#Game Master Round Table

[icewindandboringhorror]

Various recent pictures of things

[badathumanemotions]

Hey, would you be able to write a nsfw fic with spencer but maybe where a few of the team members decide to play poker at Rossi’s and it turns into strip poker with like a bit of truth or dare and you end up sat on Spencer’s lap with like barely any clothes on or smt. And then like later they end up having to share a room at rossi’s and then yk..

High Stakes

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Strip Poker, Half Naked Lap Sitting, Grinding, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Face Fucking, Dirty Talk. WC: 5,799 I have no idea how to play poker. (Not Proof Read)

"Alright, who's up for a round of poker?" Derek Morgan announced, his eyes scanning the table.

You looked around at the weary but smiling faces of your teammates. After a long, successful case, dinner at Rossi's had been the perfect way to unwind. The aroma of his homemade lasagna still lingered in the air, mingling with the sweetness of their dessert.

"I think I'll pass," Aaron said, pushing back his chair with a stretch. "It's been a long day. I'd love to join you all, but I better get home to Haley and Jack." His eyes crinkled at the mention of his wife and son.

Rossi nodded, understanding. "Alright, I'll walk you out." They disappeared into the hallway, leaving the rest of the team to rearrange the furniture in the den.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. "You in?" Emily Prentiss asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You nodded, trying to hide your nerves. "Sure, I'm in. It's been a while since I played, but I'll give it a shot."

The table was soon set up with cards, chips, and drinks. You took a seat next to Spencer, who was already shuffling the deck with a focused intensity that was a little unnerving.

"Okay, everyone," Rossi called out as he re-entered the room. "Let's get this game started." He took his place at the table, his eyes showing a hint of fatigue. "But remember, I'm only playing a couple of hands. It's been a long day and I need my beauty sleep." His comment was met with laughter from the others.

The first hand of poker began, with Spencer dealing the cards with a swiftness that spoke of his years of experience playing the game. His eyes darted around the table, reading the subtle tells of his teammates. You took a deep breath and picked up your cards, feeling the smooth edges against your fingertips.

As the hand unfolded, the banter grew more playful, the stakes rising with each round of betting. You watched as Derek Morgan's face remained unreadable, his poker face firmly in place. Meanwhile, JJ's occasional glances at her cards betrayed her excitement, while Garcia's fidgeting with her chips was a clear sign she was bluffing.

Spencer's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his cards, his mind racing through probabilities and possible outcomes. When it came down to the showdown, he laid out a full house with a smug smile. "Well, well, well," he said, collecting his winnings. "It seems like Lady Luck is on my side tonight."

The room buzzed with good-natured groans and teasing. "How does he do it?" JJ jokes, shaking her head.

A couple more rounds went by, the tension rising as the pot grew. Each of you played strategically, the air filled with anticipation and the clinking of chips. Prentiss leaned back in her chair, her arms folded as she studied the table.

Finally, after one particularly intense round, Rossi rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Alright, I think I've had enough fun for one night. I'm going to call it quits and head upstairs." He glanced around the table. "If anyone wants to crash here tonight, the guest rooms are all yours. No need to drive home if you're feeling too tired."

The team bid him good night, their eyes lingering on the chips and cards as they continued to play. With Rossi's departure, the atmosphere grew slightly more competitive. You felt a thrill as the game went on, the camaraderie of the team mixing with the cutthroat nature of poker.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a devilish grin spread across his face. "You know what would make this night even better?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"What's that?" Prentiss asked, her interest piqued.

Morgan's grin widened. "How about we spice things up a bit?" He suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Strip poker, anyone?"

The room fell silent for a beat before bursting into laughter. You felt your cheeks heat up, surprised by the proposal. Prentiss's smile grew wicked. "Now that's a twist," she said, her gaze flickering to JJ.

JJ caught your eye and noticed your hesitance. She leaned forward, placing a reassuring hand on the table. "You know, we can always play truth or dare instead," she suggested, her voice low and soothing. "It's less… risky."

Morgan's smile grew. "How about both?" he proposed, raising the stakes. "You can opt to either take a piece of clothing off or complete a truth or dare from the group." The room buzzed with excitement and a little trepidation. You swallowed hard, trying to decide if you were ready for this.

Garcia squealed with delight. "I'm in!" she exclaimed, her cheeks already pink.

You took a deep breath, the adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. The thought of playing strip poker was a bit intimidating, but the alternative rule of truth or dare had its own thrill. You found yourself nodding in agreement. "Alright, why not? Strip poker with a twist it is."

The game continued, the stakes now higher in more ways than one. Garcia was the first to go, losing a shoe to a bad bluff. She giggled, tossing it aside and taking a shot of tequila.

JJ's eyes widened slightly as she had to remove her sweater, revealing a tight tank top underneath. The room was getting warmer, and not just from the heat of the game. The tension grew palpable as each player weighed their options: fold and risk embarrassment, or push on and hope for the win.

You felt your heart race as the game continued. With each round, the pile of clothing on the floor grew. Before you knew it, you were down to your last few pieces of clothing.

The next hand was dealt, and you picked up your cards with trembling hands. You had a good hand, but the idea of losing was now more than just about the game. You studied the faces around the table, looking for signs of who might be bluffing.

Morgan leaned in, his gaze intense. "You're looking a little flushed, Y/N," he teased. "Is it the game or the thought of what's next?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your cheeks spread down your neck. The game had indeed taken a turn, and you found yourself in a situation you never would have imagined when you accepted the dinner invitation. You had continued playing, the excitement and the thrill of the game keeping you in your seat until you were down to just your bra, skirt, and panties.

The hand began, and you focused on your cards. You had a decent hand, but not a sure win. The betting went around the table, each person raising the stakes. You looked around, trying to read their faces, their body language, looking for any hint of what they might be hiding.

As the final round of bets were placed, you felt the weight of the moment. If you won this hand, you could keep your skirt on. If not, well, the thought sent a shiver down your spine. You placed your bet, trying to keep your voice steady.

Morgan called, his smile never wavering. Prentiss folded, a knowing look in her eye. Spencer studied you closely, his cards held tight to his chest. Garcia bobbed in her chair, her curiosity and excitement palpable.

As the tension grew, so did the distraction of your state of undress. You noticed Spencer's eyes darting to your chest every few seconds, the effort he was making not to stare becoming more and more obvious. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of power at the sight of him so flustered. The others had also caught on. They knew Spencer's intense focus was split, and they hoped to use his distraction to their advantage.

The final card was flipped, and you watched in horror as Morgan revealed his winning hand. The room erupted in cheers and whistles, your heart sinking as you realized you had lost your last piece of lower body clothing. With a dramatic flourish, you stood and dropped your skirt to the floor.

Spencer's eyes traced down your legs, his cheeks reddening when he realized he'd been caught staring. He quickly looked away. The room fell silent for a moment before the laughter and clapping began again.

Others had invoked the truth or dare clause here and there, but you hadn't yet. Each time someone chose dare, it seemed to push the boundaries a little further. Garcia had to sing a karaoke song, JJ had to do a sexy dance, and Prentiss had to tell a steamy secret from her past. Each moment had been met with laughter and cheers, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the real fun was just getting started.

The next hand was dealt, and your heart pounded in your chest as you realized you had nothing. You didn't want to remove your bra, so you knew what you had to do. You took a deep breath and announced, "Dare." The room grew quiet, all eyes on you.

Morgan's grin grew wicked. "I dare Y/N to sit on Spencer's lap for the rest of the night." A chorus of laughter and cheers erupted around the table. Spencer's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks burning.

You felt your own cheeks rouge at the suggestion, your heart skipping a beat. Being that close to Spencer, especially in your current state of half-dress, was both thrilling and terrifying. But the excitement of the game and the desire to keep playing overrode your nerves. You nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Fine."

Spencer's body moved back before he even had time to process the words. His chair scraped against the wooden floor, creating a sharp sound that echoed in the tension-filled room. He looked up at you, his eyes wide, his expression a mix of surprise and something else that you couldn't quite decipher.

You took a deep breath and slid onto his lap with more confidence than you felt. His body was tense beneath you, his muscles rigid as he held himself perfectly still. You could feel the heat from his body, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt and into you. Your heart was racing so fast it felt like it might leap out of your chest.

The others smirked as they shuffled the cards for the next round. They could see the electric tension between you and Spencer, and it only added to the excitement of the game. Prentiss began to deal, her eyes glinting with amusement as she took in the situation.

The next few rounds, Spencer's focus was undeniably scattered. His usual poker face was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a constant battle to not look at you sitting on his lap. His hands fumbled with his cards, and his bets were erratic. It didn't take long before the team noticed and capitalized on his distraction.

"Looks like someone's lost their mojo," Prentiss teased, placing her cards on the table with a smirk. You tried to ignore the smug looks from the others, focusing instead on the way Spencer's breath hitched every time you shifted slightly.

The next hand was dealt, and you could see the determination in Spencer's eyes as he picked up his cards. This time, you noticed the way his thumb brushed against your bare skin as he held his cards, and the electricity that shot through you was anything but calming.

You tried to keep your focus on the cards in your hand, but Spencer's proximity was making it near impossible. His breath was warm against your neck, and you could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath you. You thought you had been careful hiding your cards, but apparently, not that careful.

"You're holding your cards too tight," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and gentle. "It's giving you away." You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into him slightly. His scent filled your nose and it made your head swim.

You took a deep breath and tried to loosen your grip, his words sinking in. The whispers continued, his breath warm against your neck as he pointed out small tells from the others at the table. His voice was a comforting rumble, guiding you through the game.

Slowly, the closeness didn't feel so awkward. In fact, there was a strange sense of comfort in having him so near. You found yourself leaning into him slightly, his arm wrapping around your waist in a protective embrace.

As the game went on, Spencer's whispers grew more frequent. He noticed every little detail about the others' playing styles, sharing his insights with you in hushed tones. "Look at how Garcia's thumb is pressing down on her chips," he murmured. "She's bluffing." His voice was low and calming, his words of advice a secret shared between the two of you.

You followed his lead, and slowly, you saw your luck begin to change. You won a couple hands, the pile of chips in front of you growing. The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and the gentle guidance of his whispers had a surprising effect on you. You felt more relaxed, more confident. The daring glances and smiles you exchanged with him grew more frequent, hinting at the thrill you both felt.

Then it happened. As you readjusted yourself higher on his lap for better comfort, you felt it. The unmistakable pressure of Spencer's erection against your backside. A blush crept up your neck, and you froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. His breath hitched, and you knew he was just as aware of it as you were. The room's temperature seemed to rise a few degrees.

You wondered how long he had been like that and how you hadn't noticed it before. His arm tightened around your waist, and you felt a low groan in his chest. You felt yourself start to get wet, the heat and the thrill of the moment making your body react despite the situation. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

Without realizing it, your hips had begun to slightly rock against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel his cock growing harder with every movement. The others at the table were too engrossed in the game to notice, but you were acutely aware of every little sound and sensation.

Spencer's breathing grew shallower. His hips made the tiniest of movements, pushing back into you in a silent bid for more. You bit your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but it was getting harder by the second.

The game continued around you, but the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Each time his hips rocked against yours, it sent a jolt of desire through your body. You could feel your own breath quickening, your chest rising and falling more noticeably with every shallow breath.

You tried to keep your poker face, focusing on the cards in your hand, but it was difficult when you could feel his hardness pressing into you. Spencer's whispers grew softer, his voice a gentle rumble that made your skin tingle.

Suddenly, Garcia broke the spell, standing up from the table with a dramatic yawn. "Alright, I think I've had enough for tonight," she announced, her cheeks still flushed from the alcohol. "I'm going to crash in one of the guest rooms."

Her declaration created a domino effect. One by one, the others began to nod in agreement. The energy of the game dissipated as they all started to collect their scattered clothing. You felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment as Spencer's arm loosened around your waist.

Reluctantly, you slid off Spencer's lap and began to gather your clothes from the floor. The fabric felt cold against your skin, which was now sensitive from his warmth. You couldn't help but feel the loss of his touch as you dressed, the excitement of the moment fading into a confusing mix of arousal and awkwardness.

"Thank you for a… memorable game," Spencer said, his voice strained as he stood up. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding yours.

You tried to ignore the wetness between your legs as you helped the others clean up, focusing on the mundane task of gathering the cards and chips. Your body was still humming with the tension that had built up during the daring rounds of poker. The room felt too small, too hot, as you tried to act like nothing had changed.

The group chattered about who would take which guest room, the conversation light and easy. Yet, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment lingering in the air. The way Spencer's arm had felt around your waist, his erection pressing into you, was etched into your mind.

"Dibs on Morgan!" Garcia exclaimed, slapping a hand on Derek's arm playfully.

You laughed along with everyone else, trying to shake off the lingering tension.

"Alright, let's all head upstairs," Prentiss suggested, breaking the spell. "Three guest rooms, and we're all adults here."

You nodded, eager to escape the charged atmosphere, and followed the group up the stairs. You felt Spencer's gaze on you, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking the same things you were.

Without a word, Emily and JJ claimed the first room they saw. Garcia and Morgan didn't waste any time either, disappearing into the room across the hall. That left you and Spencer, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension as you both stared at the last guest room at the end of the hallway.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Spencer's eyes darted to the room before meeting yours. "Looks like we're sharing," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of something that was definitely not disappointment.

With a sudden burst of courage, you grabbed his hand, your pulse quickening. He looked surprised but didn't resist as you led him to the last open guest room.

Once you closed the door, you pushed Spencer to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes widening as you straddled his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you in place.

"Do you want this?" you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all he saw was the same hunger reflected in his own.

"God yes," he replied, crashing his lips against yours with a fervour that stole your breath. The heat between you was undeniable as your bodies collided, his hands gripping your hips tightly. The kiss was deep and hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could devour you whole.

You grind against his lap, happy to feel that he was still semi-hard. His grip on you tightened, and you could feel his cock growing harder with every movement of your hips. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, panting heavily. Spencer's eyes followed your every move as you stood up and began to strip away your clothing, until you were left in your underwear.

You sat back down onto his lap, this time with a sense of purpose, your legs straddling his. He groaned into your neck, his hands roaming over your bare skin as you kissed along his jawline. His touch was gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of heat wherever he went.

Spencer's fingers slid up the outside of your thighs, his touch feather-light, sending shivers of anticipation through you. His grip tightened as they reached your ass, cupping you firmly. He pulled you closer, aligning your hips with his, and you gasped as his erection pressed against you.

You rocked back and forth, the friction building between your bodies. His breath was hot against your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone. You wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pressure grew.

Suddenly, the angle was just right. Your clit rubbed against his erection with just the right amount of friction, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. The sensation was intense, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bit back a moan.

With every grind, you grew closer to the edge, your breath coming in short gasps. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body trembling with the effort to stay in control. Then, with a final, desperate thrust, you climaxed, your body shuddering in his embrace.

Spencer watched you, his eyes hooded with lust. He could feel your wetness soaking through the fabric of your panties, and it was all he could do to keep from tearing them off.

With a surprising show of strength, Spencer picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You gasped as he laid you gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was desire mirrored back at him.

His hands traced the line of your underwear, his thumbs hooking under the waistband. Slowly, so painfully slow, he began to lower your panties. You watched as he pulled them down, revealing your wetness to the cool air of the room. Instead of tossing them aside, he folded the damp fabric and tucked it into his back pocket with a smirk.

He spread your legs wide, taking in the sight of you with a hunger that made you blush even deeper. His eyes roamed over your bare skin, lingering on your most sensitive spots. He leaned in, his breath hot against your folds, and you shivered.

Without further teasing, Spencer's tongue darted out, licking a slow path up your slit. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily. He took his time, savouring the taste of you. His tongue was soft and insistent, lapping at your clit and dipping into your entrance.

You grabbed fistfuls of the bed sheets, your back arching off the mattress as he worked you into a frenzy. The feeling of his mouth on you was heavenly, his skilled tongue flicking and pressing in just the right places. You were so close, your body tightening in anticipation of another orgasm.

But just as you were about to tip over the edge again, Spencer paused, leaving you panting and desperate. He slid a finger into your wetness, and you could feel him smiling against your skin as he found your g-spot with ease. The addition of his fingers sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your legs quiver.

As his tongue danced over your clit, his fingers began to move inside you in a rhythm that was both torturous and heavenly. He knew exactly how to hit that spot, his movements measured and precise, as if he had studied your body's every response. You moaned, your body begging for more as he continued to explore you with his mouth.

Spencer's mouth grew more urgent, his tongue lapping and sucking on your clit messily. He was too desperate to care about the wet sounds he was making, too lost in the taste of you to be self-conscious. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, and you gasped, your nails digging into his scalp as you held him in place.

He could feel your orgasm building, the way your muscles tightened around his fingers. With one final, deliberate thrust, he pushed you over the edge, his tongue never leaving your clit as you came hard against his mouth.

As your body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, you felt a surge of energy rather than exhaustion. The orgasm had been so intense that it seemed to have recharged you. Without warning, you sprang up from the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you turned to face Spencer.

You reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Spencer's eyes widened, his gaze drinking in the sight of your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air.

Standing before him, you began to strip Spencer of his clothes. Once down to his last article of clothing you knelt before Spencer, your eyes never leaving his as you gripped the waistband of his boxers. His eyes darkened with anticipation as you began to pull them down his legs, revealing his cock, which stood at full attention. Your heart raced as you took in the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making your own body respond in kind.

You reached out and gently touched his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of it. Spencer's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you explored his length with curious fingers. The tip was wet with pre-cum, and you couldn't resist leaning in to taste him. Your tongue flicked out, a soft and tentative touch that made him jerk in surprise.

Encouraged, you took him fully into your mouth, his length stretching your lips wide. You could feel his hands tighten in your hair as you began to suck, your mouth moving in a steady rhythm. Spencer moaned, his hips forward to meet your eager mouth. You took him deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

You paused for a moment to adjust, then took him as far as you could, holding yourself there and swallowing around his tip. The sensation was overwhelming for Spencer, his eyes rolling back in his head. His hips bucked slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and you could feel his muscles tightening beneath your fingertips.

Finally, you pulled off of him, licking your lips to catch the last drops of his arousal. Looking him in the eye, you whispered, "Use me." It was a simple request, but it held a world of meaning. You wanted him to take control, to show you the full extent of his power over you.

Without hesitation, Spencer grabbed the hair at the back of your head and guided his cock back into your mouth. You moaned around him. He began to move his hips, fucking into your mouth with a gentle rhythm that grew more urgent with every passing stroke. His grip on your hair tightened.

Your eyes peered up at him, watering slightly from the effort to keep up with his pace. You could see the desire in his gaze, the way his pupils had blown wide with lust. It was a heady feeling, knowing you had this powerful, intelligent man at your mercy, reduced to a trembling mess by your touch.

But Spencer had other plans. He pulled out of your mouth with a soft groan, his hand still tangled in your hair. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky. "I want to feel you first."

With surprising strength, he offered you a hand and pulled you up from the floor. Your legs were shaky, but he held you steady. You climbed onto the bed, feeling the cool sheets beneath your knees. You positioned yourself on all fours, the soft mattress sinking slightly with your weight.

You dropped from your hands to your elbows, arching your back and sticking your ass up in the air. You couldn't help but wiggle your hips back and forth, a silent invitation to Spencer.

He moaned at the sight, his eyes glazed over with desire. He scrambled onto the bed behind you. His hand reached out to cup your ass cheeks, the heat of his palms searing into your skin.

Spencer spread your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the glistening wetness that leaked from your swollen entrance. His groan was low and guttural, a sound that sent a thrill of pleasure through your body. His thumbs traced slow circles around your opening, teasing your sensitive flesh.

With agonizing slowness, you felt the tip of his cock nudge against you. He pushed in gently, the head of his erection parting your folds. You gasped, your muscles clenching around the unyielding intrusion. Spencer waited, giving you a moment to adjust.

Inch by inch, he filled you up, his cock stretching you deliciously. You could feel every ridge and vein, his length sliding deep within you until you were fully impaled. He didn't move for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of being so completely filled.

Then, once he felt you relax, Spencer set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming against your ass. The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, the rhythmic slapping echoing off the walls.

You whimpered, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to process the sensation. It was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't want it to stop. Spencer's hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you back onto him with each thrust.

The scent of sex and desire filled the room as he claimed you, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the wetness of your pussy. Each time he pushed into you, your nipples scraped against the soft cotton of the bed sheets. The friction was maddening, making your already sensitive breasts feel like they were on fire.

Spencer's hands moved to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he adjusted his angle. He threw his weight into each thrust, the force of his hips pushing you further into the bed with every movement.

Then he slid one hand down your body, his fingertips skimming over your stomach and pausing when they reached the apex of your thighs. He found your clit, swollen and sensitive from his earlier attention, and began to rub it in gentle circles.

The combination of his deep strokes and the pressure on your clit was too much. You felt yourself climbing again, the pleasure building to a crescendo. You began to moan, the sound muffled by the pillow you had buried your face in.

Spencer leaned over, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you like that?" he whispered. "Do you like it when I fuck you like this?" He grunts out.

You nodded, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form coherent words. His whispers grew more explicit, describing every little sensation he felt, every way your body was responding to his. "You're so tight, so wet for me," he continues. "Your pussy is squeezing my cock so tight."

With each thrust, he whispered about his desire for you, how long he had fantasized about this moment. "I've wanted to fuck you like this for so long," he groaned. "To feel you this way, to hear you like this." His words were like a drug, leaving you craving more.

"Remember when you were on my lap downstairs?" Spencer panted, his hips never slowing. "How badly I wanted to rip your panties off and bury my cock inside you?"

You moaned, his words painting a vivid picture in your mind. The thought of him wanting you that badly, of him fighting his urges while everyone else played the game, was an aphrodisiac.

As Spencer whispered about how he had imagined watching you bounce on his cock in the middle of the poker game, your orgasm crashed over you. You couldn't hold back the moan that tore from your throat as your pussy clenched around him, the muscles spasming with pleasure.

It was wet and messy, your juices coating his cock with each withdrawal, only to be pushed back in with a slick sound on his next thrust. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal, and the scent of sex grew stronger.

You felt your body tightening around him, your pussy pulsing with each stroke. Your orgasm was still fresh, but the relentless pace Spencer had set had you spiraling towards another peak. His breath was hot and ragged against your ear, his whispers of filthy confessions only fuelling the fire within you.

As Spencer spoke of his fantasies, his hand never ceased its torment of your clit. The pleasure grew unbearable, your body a live wire. Then, as if on cue, another orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake uncontrollably. You cry out, your voice a high-pitched whine.

His thrusts grew erratic, his own need for release becoming apparent. You felt your pussy flutter around his cock, the walls tightening and releasing in time with your racing heartbeat. It was this feeling, the tightness and the warmth of you, that pushed Spencer over the edge.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could go. You felt his cock twitching, and then the warm flood of his cum filled your pussy. He groaned your name, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into you, his orgasm intense and uncontrollable. The sensation was intoxicating.

Panting, you both collapsed onto the bed, your bodies entangled in a mess of limbs. You clung to him, your chest rising and falling in time with his, your breaths mingling in the quiet room. Spencer's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as if afraid to let go. You felt his heart racing beneath your cheek. You were both thoroughly exhausted, the passionate frenzy leaving you drained yet content.

After a moment, you lifted your head and met his gaze. His eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a silent question hanging in the air. You offered a soft smile, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. The tension dissipated, replaced by a gentle warmth.

As your breathing evened out, you leaned in to capture his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. The taste of yourself still lingered on his lips. Spencer's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands roamed his body, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders, the feel of his skin smooth and warm beneath your fingertips. He mirrored your movements, his touch gentle and exploratory, as if committing every inch of you to memory.

Spencer's lips trailed down your neck, peppering kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You nuzzled closer to him, your breathing slowing as the weight of sleep began to claim you. "With how loud we were, we're definitely sneaking out before the others wake up, right?" you whispered against his skin.

He chuckled, the vibration running through you. "Right," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. You could feel his smile against your shoulder. His hand traced lazy circles on your back, the gentle pressure lulling you closer to slumber.

[simpforrooster]

nothing but a gentleman.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader

summary: jake is obsessed with you. you eat it up. you’re obsessed with his obsession. but also with him.

t/w: soft!jake, some cursing

"Get out of here, Bagman. You're giving me a headache."

The blonde aviator grabs at his chest. "God, I love it when you're mean to me." Those green eyes sparkle with mischief under the lights of the Hard Deck.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin has been pining after you for months.

& you have been loving every second of it. Miramar's resident playboy has only had eyes for you. You haven't seen him spare a glance at any of the other ladies in the bar.

Believe me, they've been looking at him.

"Y/n, how long are you going to keep my boy at arm's length?" Coyote asks from the other side of the pool table. Jake saddles up next to him and feeds you the saddest pout he can muster.

"Yeah, y/n, how long?" Jake asks.

Your intention wasn't to drag this hard-to-get play out for so long. Truthfully, it's becoming hard not to give in to those strong arms. To not lean in when he invades your personal space, feeding you a smart ass comment.

Your shoulder comes up to your ear and falls back down. "Hard to say, Bagman."

"Let's play for it," he tells you. Jake saunters over to you, and leans against the pool table. Crossing his arms over his fit chest, he situates his mouth just outside your ear. "If I win, you've gotta give me a kiss, darlin'."

The way his hot breath falls across your ear causes goosebumps to appear down your arms. Jake notices, and a blonde brow raises.

"What are you? Twelve?" you antagonize.

"Oh, honey. I'm willing to try anything at this point."

"Rack 'em. Honey." You lightly shove him back, your hands reacting to the small second they were on his chest.

"If I win, you give it up," you send the man a sad look.

"Give what up?" he asks.

"All this pining'." Your hand gestures wildly around in the air.

For a moment, despair crosses over that handsome face. He recovers quickly. "Oh, I'm not worried."

Jake lets you break. Two stripes fall into the pocket. Jake comes up behind you before your next shot. His hand slides across your waist and he pulls you into his side.

Right as you pull back, Jake leans down. "Don't scratch."

The cueball follows your striped ball into the pocket.

"Damn," he murmurs. It takes a full 45 seconds to get your heart rate under control.

The jig is up once Jake get in control of the pool table. Not only is he the dagger squad's best dart player, he's got the best pool table on lock, too. There is no way he's going to take it easy on you.

Naturally, he doesn't.

"One more and Hangman gets a kiss," he smirks. He doesn't take his eyes off your as he pulls back and send the cue ball sailing.

The eight ball falls into it's intended pocket effortlessly. Followed right by the cue ball.

Shock falls across all your faces. Jake has never lost a game of pool. Ever.

Jake sets the cue stick down, and rounds the table. Standing toe-to-toe with you, he feeds you a delicious smirk.

"Darlin', I ain't gonna make you kiss me if you don't want to. Furthermore, I only want your kiss if its of your own volition." He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear.

Your eyes lock with his and the world stops. What a fucking gentleman.

Fisting the front of his shirt, you yank him down to your mouth. Jake relaxes into the kiss immediately and allows his hands to slide around your waist.

Jake takes control, changing the direction and deepening the kiss. Your hands move from his shirt to the nap of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair. His hair that’s gotten just a bit long.

Jake pulls back just a hair, his lips a breath away from yours. “Damn,” he mumbles, again.

“My own volition, huh?”

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he winks. “A gentleman who is dying to kiss you again.”

You guide his lips back to yours.

“Kiss me, Hangman.”

master list.

a/n: been a little while since i wrote for ole jakey. i hope y'all like it!

[iluvmattsbeard]

so high school (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: nothing but fluff

preview: Matt and his friends were seniors in high school, they decided to play a game of kiss, marry, kill in class. when it was Matt’s turn, his friend adds you in the mix. he never quite noticed you before and when he did, he was intrigued. you were two opposites. he ended up passing notes to you in class. you never expected the outcome from all of this.

a/n: this is a long one but, I loved writing it. I saw someone on here ask to write a fic based off so high school. which, I attempted to do! this is my take of how I pictured it in my head. I forgot who it was who posted about it but if you’re the person, here’s my version!

it was almost the end of the school day, Matt was sat down at a table full of his friends. it was technically a free period since testing was held today. "let's play a game." his close friend Nate suggests. "what kind of game?" Chris asks curiously. "kiss marry kill." Nate responds with a grin. it caught Matt's attention, speaking up, "that's a childish game." the group laughs before Nate speaks up again, "well we have nothing better to do." the group looks at Matt, "what do you say? you in?" Nate adds on. "I guess i'll participate." Matt says fixing his posture. "okay who will start?" Nick joins in.

after a few rounds, the boys were laughing from the answers that had passed. it was finally Matt's turn, Chris ended up giving him the options, "okay let's see..." he says looking around the class, "Chloe, Madison, and..." he continues looking and lands his eyes on a girl resting her head on her palm as she read a book, "her I guess." Chris adds on. Matt looks at the girl and tilts his head a bit, "what's her name?" he asks.

"I think it's Y/n." Nick responds looking at you. you lift your head a bit from the sound of your name being said, "Nick, you're too loud." Chris whispers. you just ignored it and continued to read the book in front of you. Matt starts to play the game as he chose you to kill, "I only put her in that spot because I don't know her." he explains. the bell rings and everyone started to get up, including you. you shut your book and placed it in your back pack. Matt got up taking glances at you. you were wearing a white cardigan with jeans. your hair was half way up and half way down. you zipped up your back pack and put it on one of your shoulders only.

before you walk out, you catch a glimpse of Matt's gaze and you smile a bit at him, which he does back, then you walk out. Matt then picked up his back pack and put it on heading out as well. he walked to his car with his brothers and got in buckling up. "you guys don't know anything else about that Y/n girl?" Matt asks causing Nick to raise an eyebrow, "no, why?" he questions while Chris looks at Matt curious as well. "nothing I was just wondering. I thought I knew everyone in that class." he says starting the car. "she just keeps to herself that's why. no one wants to bother her I guess." Nick says. Matt just nods and drives out from the school parking lot.

the next day, your eyes were focused on your computer as you did the assignment for today. Matt was still curious about you, from yesterday's small smiles at each other, he wanted to take the opportunity to get to know you. he took out his notebook and a pencil as he started to write. after he was done, he ripped it out from the notebook and folded it. "hey." he says tapping the girl in front of him, "can you pass it to her?" Matt says looking at you. the girl he asked was behind you. she nods and takes the note, tapping your shoulder. you turn around and look at the folded paper. "it's from Matt." she whispers using her thumb to point behind her. you take the note and turn back around to open it.

'hey, I know you don't know me but, I also don't know you so, I was wondering if you wanted to get to know each other? I found it odd that I know everyone else in here except for you.' - Matt

you smile a bit from the note and pick up your pencil writing back. you handed it back to the girl and she passed it back to Matt.

'hi i'm Y/n. that's really out of the blue but, sure. i'd like to get to know you. also, yeah I get that a lot.' - Y/n

Matt smiles and writes back explaining how he even found out about you. you guys were passing notes the whole class which, the girl in between you ended up switching seats with Matt so he could pass the notes himself.

'so I was apart of your kiss marry kill?' - Y/n

'yeah but don't worry, my choice for you was not personal.' - Matt

you giggle softly to yourself. the bell ended up ringing and you guys left it off at that. you packed your stuff and turned around to give him the same soft smile from yesterday before walking out. for the rest of the day, Matt could not stop thinking about you. "what's on your mind?" Nick asks him. "oh nothing." Matt responds smiling. Chris and Nick just look at each other in a weird way.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

the weekend was finally over and Matt couldn't already wait to get to his last class. when the time comes, he was about to sit down behind you but the teacher stops him. "Matt." Mrs. Dean speaks up causing the boy to stop in his tracks and turn around, "yes?" he asks. "we need to talk about your grade in this class. I heard you aren't doing so well in other classes as well?" she says pulling up his grades. you couldn't help but have the conversation catch your attention as you unzipped your back pack. "Matt, you have to raise these grades or else you'll be suspended from the lacrosse game in a month." the teacher says making Matt's eyes widen, "what? how could I raise my grades that quickly?" he asks. "I don't know Matt but it's possible. you have to really put in the work." she says. Matt just sighs and nods, going to sit at his desk. as time goes by, you turn around and place a note in front of him which makes him look at you and smile a bit.

'I can help you raise your grades if you'd like.' - Y/n

he smiles even more reading it. he immediately writes back taking you on the offer.

'if it's not too much of a hassle, i'd gladly accept your help.' - Matt

'well I did come up with the idea so, it wont be a hassle.' - Y/n

'can I get your number?' - Matt

you ended up writing down your phone number and he thanks you in his actual voice. he started to realize, he hasn't heard your voice, so when you spoke up to say 'you're welcome', he felt his heart start to race a bit. your voice was soft and comforting in a way. even though you only said two words to him.

the next day, you and Matt meet up at one of the picnic tables in the courtyard. "hey." Matt says with a smile walking up to sit in front of you. you smile back, "hi Matt." you greet him. "I'm going to warn you right now, I have a bunch of missing assignments." he says opening his back pack. you let out a soft laugh, "that's fine. you have a month to get it all done. plus, you have extra hands to help you." you reassure him. he smiles and nods, "thank you again." he says pulling out the pile of papers he had inside his back pack. your eyes widen a bit and laugh a bit, "don't thank me yet. we haven't started." you respond while looking at the stack. you both laugh at the same time.

you two have been tackling his missing work for a few days now until one day, he tells you something, "Y/n?" you look up at him and respond, "yes?" "I still want to get to know you better." he says making you look at him with a smile, "well..." you start off, putting your pencil down, "what do you want to know?" he puts down his pencil as well before he speaks, "just tell me stuff that makes you, well you." you laugh a bit before nodding, "well I barely moved to Massachusetts the beginning of senior year, i'm an only child, I enjoy reading in my free time, and let's see..." you pause for a bit. Matt was just sitting there, very drawn to you as you speak. "I don't really know what else I could say." you say with a soft laugh. Matt joins in laughing before he speaks, "I guess I just have to spend more time with you to get more from you." you smile nervously and look away, "well, let's focus on getting this work done." Matt adds on which you agree to.

since you began to help Matt, his friends have been wondering why he's been distant. he was constantly with you and he never told his friends about you. as you guys sat there, his group of friends walk over and tease him, "what is this?" Nate asks with a foolish smile. Matt rolls his eyes and looks at the group, "what are you guys doing here?" he asks. "the question is, what are you doing here? with..." Nate looks at you, "Y/n right?" Nate asks. you nod in silence feeling awkward, "Y/n is helping me complete my missing assignments so I could raise my grades. if I don't raise them, I won't be able to play the lacrosse game coming up." Matt says. Chris widens his eyes, "what? why didn't you tell us?" he asks. "you guys weren't going to be able to help me so Y/n offered." Matt responds looking at you.

"you still could've told us." Nick says before looking at you, "I'm Nick by the way." you smile and greet him back, "nice to meet you." "are you sure you guys are only studying? I mean Matt talks about y-." Chris was cut off by Matt, "okay guys. me and Y/n still have lots to do." the group of boys nod and say their goodbyes, walking away. Matt shakes his head and focuses his eyes on the text book in front of him. you look at him and laugh, "you talk about me?" you ask. he looks up and takes a tiny gulp, "he was just teasing us." Matt tries to cover up from the truth. you just nod, "okay I believe you." you say looking back down with a smile.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you and Matt were at the usual picnic table at school as you both stood in front of the computer. it's been two weeks since you started to help him. you both stood there waiting for his grades to update. it took a lot of work but, hopefully it was worth it. you and Matt stare at the screen as he clicked refresh one more time. "Y/n!" he says standing up straight. you looked at the screen to see his grades now passing with A's and B's. you turn to look at him and your mouth was open a bit from shock, "you did it Matt!" you exclaim happily. "no, we did it Y/n." he says with a smile hugging you suddenly. your eyes widen a bit but you hugged back slowly, "thank you Y/n." he whispers still embracing you. "you're welcome Matt." you reply as you both pull away. you both stand there now nervously laughing. "let's go show Mrs. Dean." you suggest. the boy nods and you both pack your stuff and walk to her classroom.

the next day, Matt kept bugging you in class with the notes he's been writing.

'Y/n tell me how I can repay you. seriously!' - Matt

'I don't need to be repaid Matt. it was me who offered to help in the first place. i'm just glad I helped you.' - Y/n

'how about I take you to the drive in?' - Matt

your eyes widen a bit from the question. you’ve never been asked to go anywhere especially with a boy. alone. you hover your pencil over the paper as you think about what to say.

‘i’ve never been to the drive in.’ - Y/n

‘well then you’re about to :)’ - Matt

you look back at him and he smiles making you smile as well.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Y/n’s POV

“dad i’ll be back before 9 pm I promise.” I say putting on small hoop earrings. my dad has never been in this situation before, well neither have I, so this was all new for the both of us. “honey, let her finish getting ready.” my mom joins in with a small laugh. “who even is this boy Y/n?” my dad asks curiously. “he’s just a boy from school that I helped out. now, he said he wants to repay me that’s all.” I say putting on chapstick. “do you like this boy?” my mom asks. “yes.” I say bluntly but realize it came off the other way, “as a friend!” I add on. my mom laughs and nods, “okay sweet heart. I’ll get your dad out of your hair.” she says dragging my dad out the room with her.

I look at myself in the mirror and touch up anything that doesn’t look right. my phone suddenly buzzes. I pick it up to see a text from Matt. it was him letting me know he was outside. I get up and put on my shoes, heading out my bedroom and to the front door until I got stopped by my dad. “hold on Y/n.” he says getting up from the couch. “dad please. I have to go.” I say but he walks up to me and opens the door. he takes a look at Matt through his car window. Matt gets out the car and walks up to the door. “hello sir.” Matt says with a smile. “what’s up kid. where are you taking my daughter?” my dad asks. “i’m just taking her to the drive in. it’s to repay her for helping me play this weekend’s game.” Matt says. “you play a sport?” my dad asks now intrigued.

“I play lacrosse.” Matt says with a soft laugh. “that’s awesome. well, you two enjoy the movie. be safe most importantly.” my dad says patting Matt’s shoulder. “thank you dad. bye.” I say walking to Matt’s car. we both get inside and I look at him, “i’m so sorry about him.” I apologize. he laughs softly and starts the car, “why are you saying sorry? it went great.” he reassures me. “I just didn’t think you guys would meet. I mean, he’s never met anyone else before.” I say. he looks at me, “wait, i’m the first guy he’s ever met?” he asks with a slight shocked expression. “yeah…” I say quietly. “is that a problem?” I add on. he smiles and chuckles, “no! i’m just surprised.” he says as he starts to drive off. “what’s so surprising?” I question keeping my eyes on the road.

“I thought a bunch of guys would’ve taken you out by now.” he says. I stay silent for a bit, what is that supposed to mean? “I don’t talk to guys like that.” I utter. “looks like i’m special.” Matt smiles from his words. I just shake my head playfully, “I guess so.” I laugh a bit.

End of Y/n’s POV

later on, you both were sitting there in the car as the movie played on the big screen. Matt wasn’t paying attention that much because all he could focus on was how nervous he was being right next to you. to be completely honest, he hasn’t taken out a girl before. he only cared about his friends and sports so he didn’t think he would have anytime for a relationship but, he just shook off the thoughts. he was just repaying you right? towards the end of the movie, you notice him glancing at you and you caught his eyes. you both sat there as you stared at each other while the movie played through the radio. Matt started to move his eyes to your lips, making you gulp. you two started to lean in slowly but stopped once you guys heard the car next to you start its engine.

you both move away from each other and laugh nervously. the drive home was painfully awkward. when you got home, you laid in bed and buried your face in your pillow. all you could think about now was, what if you guys kissed?

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

a few days pass, you could not get Matt off your mind. you knew he was the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. you just didn’t know what to do with these feelings. besides that near kiss, nothing else happened after. he did invite you to his lacrosse practice later after school.

‘come on. you can watch me practice and try to understand the game.’ - Matt

you stared at the note and thought about what to say. you had the same hesitation from when he asked you to go to the drive in. you gulp and start to write a response.

‘okay fine. i’ll come.’ - Y/n

the bell rings and he stands up grabbing his stuff, shortly after he grabs your hand walking out the classroom. you follow him as you look at the way your fingers entwined. you felt your cheeks turn pink from the gesture. you soon made it out to the grass field. he lets go of your hand and looks at you, “I got to put on my uniform but look out for number four okay?” he says smiling. you nod and smile back as he walks away.

you make your way up onto the bleachers as you sit down away from some people. when all the boys head out on the field, you immediately spot Matt in his number four jersey. you smile and see him point his stick at you which makes you giggle quietly. “hey Y/n.” you turn to see Nick join right next to you. “hi. you don’t play?” you ask. he shakes his head, “absolutely not. I cried and quit the first time I played.” you both laugh at his words.

as the boys started to practice, Nick started to explain the game to you. you were starting to understand the concept and how points work. by the time they finished, Nick claimed you as a pro. “you learn quickly!” he exclaims with a smile. “well, I did help him study. only fair for me to study the game.” you say laughing.

when you arrived home that day, you couldn’t stop thinking about him still. you sat on your bed as you started to think of ways to support him at the game tomorrow. you had the perfect idea.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you look at yourself in the school bathroom mirror as you smile. today was the day Matt has been anticipating. he was still thanking you all day that he gets to play today. which you kept repeatedly telling him to stop.

Matt

wish me luck today! I hope to hear you in the stands.

you smile at the text and reply.

Y/n

good luck Matt. also, I don’t know about that.

you head out the bathroom and make your way out to the bleachers. you wanted to be close to the front so Nick saved you a seat. “thank you for giving me one of his jerseys.” you say to Nick. “of course! he’s going to love seeing you in it.” he responds. you and Nick engage in conversation as he tells you child hood stories about the three of them. you two were laughing and getting along. “i’m so glad Matt started talking to you. I feel like none of us wanted to reach out to you because we thought you didn’t want anybody bothering you.” Nick lets out making you laugh softly.

you hear a person through the speakers introduce the team and you instantly switch your attention towards the field. the team runs out onto the field and everybody starts to cheer, including you.

Matt’s POV

when me and my team run out onto the field, I instantly search for Y/n in the stands. when I finally see her, I couldn’t help but notice her shirt. it was my jersey. it looked a little big on her and I laughed to myself. she looked amazing. I pointed my lacrosse stick at her and she just gave thumbs up with a smile. I definitely need to do good for her.

End of Matt’s POV

during the game, you were so focused on Matt that you started to realize how good he was. he was absolutely crushing everyone on the opposite team. it was down to the final countdown. you were at the edge of your seat with Nick as you guys watch Matt with the ball, he starts to run and push past the opponents as he throws the ball straight to the net, making the final goal. everybody stands up and cheer as you and Nick jump up and down. “let’s go Matt!” you yell out. you were so caught up in the moment you didn’t realize you really put yourself out there cheering for him. Matt takes off his helmet and runs towards the stands. you walk down the bleachers as he drops the stick and helmet onto the ground. you embrace him in a hug as he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up slightly.

“good job Matt!” you exclaim happily. “I couldn’t do it without you.” he says. it made your heart melt but you were also confused, “what do you mean?” you say pulling away smiling. “I was thinking about you the whole time. it was my motivation.” he says smiling. your heart started to beat fast. “Matt… that’s so sweet…” you say. he scratches the back of his neck shyly, “yeah…” he says. it was the same awkward feeling from the car ride home back from the drive in. “let me go change into my actual clothes and i’ll meet up with you in the parking lot okay?” he says. you nod and smile.

later on, you were standing in the parking lot as you waited. he eventually came out from the school building and greets you with a smile. you just stood there still feeling awkward. your feelings for him were growing stronger and you couldn’t take it anymore. “nice jersey by the way.” he says opening his trunk with a smile. “thank you very much.” you smile a bit. you watched him put his equipment in his trunk as he noticed your body language. “is something bothering you?” he asks shutting the trunk.

Y/n’s POV

my heart was racing. how do I tell him how I feel? “Y/n?” he speaks up looking at me with concern. “Matt… I don’t know how to put this into words.” I say quietly. he leans back on the car as he responds, “it’s okay. take your time.” I stand there and look away with a nervous laugh before looking back at him, “well… i’ve been feeling a certain way lately. ever since I met you, I knew there was something different about you. I mean you went out of your way to talk to me when no one else would.” I pause for a moment, I can’t believe i’m doing this, “remember when you said you’re special and I said I guess? well, it’s not I guess. it’s yes, you are special. i’m sorry if this is too much.” I stop myself. “no keep going.” he says with a reassuring smile. I let out a breath, “what i’m trying to say is…” I stop looking at my feet nervously before looking back up at him, “no one’s ever had me… not like you. like today, I didn’t even know I could cheer that loud. when we aren’t together, I constantly think about you and when I lay there, I can’t help but wonder if you feel the same.” I say.

he stands up straight getting off the car. “that’s actually crazy.” he says catching me off guard. “what?” I ask stunned. he laughs nervously before talking, “i’ve been feeling the same way Y/n. like I said earlier, you were my motivation the whole game. when we first started talking, I already felt like my heart was going to beat out my chest. when we went to the drive in, I should’ve just told you then. I was having these thoughts ever since. every day, I look forward to seeing you. that has never happened to me before. I feel the same way Y/n.” he says making me feel much more at ease. “you really mean that?” I ask with a slight smile. “of course I do Y/n.” he says grabbing my hands softly, interlocking them.

End of Y/n’s POV

“so what now Matt?” you ask looking into his eyes. “what do you think?” he asks with a smile. you stayed quiet for a bit before asking him a question, “are you gonna marry kiss or kill me?” he smiles at the familiar question, “for now, I think i’ll go with kiss.” he says pulling you in by your intertwined hands, unlocking them, placing his hands on your face kissing you softly. you place your arms around his neck as you tip toe yourself up to reach him better. he moves his hands down, wrapping his arms around your lower waist as he picks you up slightly, without breaking the kiss. you never would’ve imagined high school being like this. finally finding a boy who you knew you could give yourself to. you both continue to kiss, smiling in between kisses and eventually pulling away. you both had your foreheads touching as you both laughed softly in each other’s arms.

a/n: sorry if this is so long! likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated.

[reysdriver]

A Grandmaster of Sorts | J.P

Your husband James falls victim to Harry's new obsession around the game rock, paper, scissors — dad!james x mom!reader fluff

warnings: none :)

words: 0.9k

a/n: this is based on something that actually happened at a family reunion last week, I just HAD to write about it because it was maybe the cutest thing ever, so enjoy!!

Harry strode into the kitchen with a goal. You weren’t sure what that goal was, but you were excited to find out. He stopped next to the table where you and James were enjoying some tea and he tugged gently on the knee of your husband’s trousers.

“Can we play rock, paper, scissors?” Harry asked his dad. 

That was his new obsession. You taught your son how to play the other day when he told you he was bored when there was nothing to do during a heavy thunderstorm. Ever since, he’s been asking you to play his new favourite game with him.

James put down his teacup and turned to look at his son. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, eh?” James said with cartoonish condescension. “I’m down for a few rounds, but you should be warned, Haz, that I’m the master of that game.” 

James moved around in his chair to face your son, cracking his knuckles obnoxiously to make Harry laugh. 

“You’re on, son.”

They held out their hands, but paused before actually playing. They put on their best game faces and tried analysing each other to guess what their first move would be. 

They both nodded, feeling confident enough to start a game. They lifted their hands and repeated the name of the game, then made their moves. 

A draw. Both hands were positioned with open palms facing the ground. Since paper and paper means a tie, they went again. 

Another draw. Both hands in rock position this time. 

Harry laughed at the situation even though James kept his stoic expression. 

“Where’d you learn all this? The skills must be in the genes, I bet.”

The little boy shook his head happily and pointed at you. “No, Mummy taught me!”

“Well, she must have taught you all my tricks. That’s definitely how you got to my exact skill level.” James proclaimed. “Let’s keep going, I’m gonna win this time.”

Your husband held out his hand, ready to start another match, but your son held out his hands, asking James to pause. 

Harry was doing a poor job at hiding a mischievous grin, so you paid attention to what he had to say. 

“We should try to tie again.” The boy suggested. “We should both do paper.”

James obviously knew what his little boy was plotting, but he didn’t dare show it. He just nodded along as he pretended to mull over the idea. 

“Yeah, we should do that. Then we can match, and you can be just like the great James Potter. I like the sound of that, Haz.”

They agreed on that little plan and then started the next round. Big shocker, Harry betrayed James and threw up scissors, defeating your husband’s move of paper. 

Harry burst out into a fit of adorable giggles as James looked at him with a pretend expression of shock. His jaw practically on the floor and his eyes were full of pain over what just happened. 

“I win, Daddy!” Harry exclaimed after his laughter subsided. 

“Good job, baby!” You congratulated your boy. 

“You tricked me! I demand a rematch.” 

Harry held out his hand for another game, but he wasn’t starting just yet. 

“What if we tied again? We could both do paper.” He suggested, that grin making a reappearance. 

“Are you going to trick me again?” James asked, eyes wide as he looked at Harry. 

“I promise I won’t. I just want it to be another tie.”

James nodded, pretending he trusted his son even after that first double-cross. He agreed to one more round under the pretence that it would be a draw once more. 

But lo and behold, Harry put up another pair of scissors, defeating James. Somehow, James looked even more flummoxed this time, but Harry was just as happy.

“It seems like you aren’t really the king of this game, my love.” You told your husband with a shrug.

James told you that he’d win next time, and the pair resumed their battle. 

You sat and watched Harry pull the same tricks on his father for several more rounds, James keeping up the charade of being shocked at his son’s plays, and Harry finding it absolutely hilarious every single time. 

Eventually, Harry proclaimed that he had simply won too many games to keep going, so he wanted to play by himself in his room. Before he walked off, you kissed him on the forehead and told him you’d bring him a special snack as a prize for winning so much. 

“Harry’s got winning in his blood.” You said to James, standing up from your seat. “Unfortunately, it seems like it comes from my side.”

James stood up right after you. He walked over to the counter where you were preparing the ingredients for Harry’s snack and wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“I know, he’s a champion.” James sighed. “I don’t even think I can break his heart by playing to my full potential.”

There was a quiet moment where the only sound in the room was the small knife slicing through the fruit and against the cutting board. 

With his free hand, James nicked a piece and tossed it in his mouth before you could say anything. Then your husband spoke again. 

“I think I’ll have to start teaching him chess and then have Remus avenge me.”

[redwinterroses]

It's not like it's hard to get Tango taking about Decked Out, but buy him a couple of potions in the museum speakeasy and he gets downright confessional.

Grian leans across the stat poker table, his wings rustling eagerly. "Truth or dare, Tango," he says. "Is Decked Out... alive?"

“Aren’t I supposed to pick truth or dare before you ask the question?” Tango tosses back another potion and gives the group a half-smirk.

“We all know you’re going to pick truth because you’re too particled to get up.” Etho’s face is obscured, but they can hear the laugh in his voice and see his fox ears twitch with amusement. “So spill.”

Tango shrugs. "Well," he says, "It's not exactly not NOT alive, if you know what I mean."

Grian glances at Doc on his right and Etho on his left. They shrug at him.

"Yeah, no," he says, looking back at Tango. "I don't think we know what that means."

"Is it like that Grumbot robot that Mumbo and Grian built?" Doc asks, scratching thoughtfully at his chin, his blunt black claws scritching loudly against the stubble of his beard. Grian tries to catch a peek at his stat tokens and gives a sheepish grin when Doc notices and quickly angles them away.

"Hey, now," Doc starts to say, but Tango interrupts.

"Nah, no -- I mean, Grumbot was pretty... Simple. No offense."

"None taken." Grian pulls a token from his stack. "Number of villagers traded with," he offers. "And I'll up the ante to three diamond blocks, gentlemen."

Tango lays down his own token, and taps a finger on it in an aimless rhythm. “The dungeon is… aware,” he says. “Not alive, I guess, but it knows things. It recognizes people.”

“I’ve noticed,” Etho says dryly. “That place hates me.”

They all laugh, but Tango shakes his head. “Does it hate you?” he asks and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Or does it want to impress you?”

“Oh, I’m impressed enough.” Etho drops his stat token on the table with a soft click. “So it can stop glitching and trying to kill me now.”

“Aww, you’re just playing hard to get.”

Doc lays his tokens down on the table and stands. “I will sit out this round, I think,” he says. “I have done almost nothing with villagers this season. Will anyone have more to drink?”

“I’m not playing hard to get!” Etho protested, ears lying flat. “If anything, I’m playing easy to get – I just walk right in there!”

“You heard it first here, folks,” Tango says. “Etho’s easy.”

He ducks, but not in time to dodge the rolled-up napkin Etho chucks at his face. It lands in his hair and goes up in a miniature whump of flame.

Grian snickers, waving away smoke.

“So if the dungeon’s not alive, but it’s not quite not alive,” he says. “How does one maybe go about… making friends with it?”

“That,” Doc says, thunking a fresh bottle of Cub’s custom-mixed potion onto the table. “Is cheating, you pesky bird. No flirting with the possibly-not-not-alive dungeon.”

“You’re telling me you’re above flirting for a few extra keys and crowns, Doc?” Tango asks with teasing skepticism.

Doc sniffs, flipping the cork from his bottle with his thumb. “I don’t need flirting,” he says dismissively. “I have skills. Game strategies, man.”

“He’s already planning how to get the dungeon’s attention.” Etho flips his token over, exposing the total. “Aren’t’cha, Doc.”

Doc tips back his drink and shrugged. “Eh… that is for me to know, and you to worry about.” He winks.

“Tango, what’s your total there?” Grian fiddles with his token.

“Well, I know it’s higher than old three-digit Minecraft master over here.” Tango holds up his token and pinches it between his fingers. “Under three hundred, Etho? What’ve you been doing all season?”

“Not hiding out in a hole for thirteen months,” Etho grumbles good-naturedly, pushing his diamonds into the center of the table.

“Yeah, well, that’s what I have been doing and look at that stat.” Tango displays the count. “Seven k, baby – read ‘em and weep.”

Grian makes an exaggerated sad face that immediately morphs into a triumphant grin. “Rookie numbers, fellas,” he crows. “Try over twelve thousand.”

Tango groans and rolls his diamonds toward Grian with a grimace. “Yeah,” he says. “Definitely not telling you how to flimflam my dungeon, you shyster.”

“Tango, I’m hurt.” Grian, entirely unbothered and very un-hurt looking, scoops the pile of diamonds into his pouch. “My stats are all ethically earned.”

“And that’s how your dungeon runs will be too.” Tango stashes his tokens and stands. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. Mostly.”

“Back to your cave, Tango?” Etho doesn’t stand, but his bushy white tail wags a little in barely-contained excitement. “So, Decked Out will be open again… soon?”

“You bet your foxy good looks,” Tango says. “Or… maybe don’t. Not with those stats.”

This time he does duck the thrown napkin.

He exits through the museum, the laughter of his friends fading behind him as he steps out into the cool afternoon air. For a moment, he stretches, shaking out his elytra and clearing his head a bit of the potion particles.

Is Decked Out alive?

Tango grins, sharp teeth glinting. Of course the dungeon’s alive, who’s he kidding? And she’s hungry, too, he can feel it even from here. His friends should just be grateful he’s only ever built friendly monsters that want to devour them.

“On my way,” he mutters to himself. Or the dungeon. “And Etho’ll be coming over soon too.”

He feels the dungeon’s excitement.

“Oh…you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Tango launches himself in the air and spirals over the shopping district, angling toward Decked Out and laughing so loudly the sound bounces off the buildings below.

His dungeon totally has a crush on Etho.

[lesservillain]

v. i want to hold the hand inside you

summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.

Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.

When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.

“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.

“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?” 

“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”

Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.

“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.

“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”

“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”

You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside. 

“Wha—I, uh—”

Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling. 

“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”

“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”

“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.

“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.” 

Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.

“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.

“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her. 

“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”

You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”

Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.

“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”

“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically. 

“What does that even mean?!”

“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”

“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”

“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”

Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.

“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.

“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.

“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”

“Sure,” you say suspiciously.

“Is Sam real?”

“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”

You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.

“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.

“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”

“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”

“But…?”

“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”

Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.

“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.

“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”

Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.

“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”

Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”

“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.

“Why’d she tell him that?”

“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”

“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn’t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately. 

He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot. 

But, of course you didn’t.

You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.

In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around. 

And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games. 

Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.

Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that. 

“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over. 

It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.

Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between. 

It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.

Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.

“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.

It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’

“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.” 

“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you. 

What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.

‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’

“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.

“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.

“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”

“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.” 

Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”

The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.

You flip the picture over to read the back.

‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’

Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time. 

They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam. 

“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”

“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.

“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”

Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours. 

“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”

“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you. 

“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.

“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door. 

While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.

It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do. 

Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.

“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”

You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open. 

He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.

Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.

“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.

Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off. 

He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head. 

All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.

Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.

But you didn’t.

Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.

And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.

“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?

Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before. 

After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him. 

Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden. 

You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…

Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world. 

The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.

“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone. 

Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”

“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”

Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.

“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation. 

You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.

“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”

“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”

“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”

All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?

“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.

Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it. 

But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.

The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.

Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.

But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.

Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road. 

Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.

After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.

You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them. 

Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.

The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.

Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.

“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.

The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.

“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.

“Wayne, it’s me.”

You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.

When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.

“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you. 

“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.

Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.

“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement. 

The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”

“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.” 

“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again. 

The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.

As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow. 

A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter. 

“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”

Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel. 

“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”

“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”

Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”

“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.

“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”

“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.

“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”

Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath. 

“I, um, we…”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”

“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”

“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”

The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.

“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”

“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.

“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”

“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”

“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.

“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”

“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.

“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.” 

“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.” 

Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you. 

“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs. 

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.

“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.

“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.

“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.

“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips. 

“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.

“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall. 

Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.

The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.

Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster. 

Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.

Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.

You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…

Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.

Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.

“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.

“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.

“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.

“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.

“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”

After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain. 

With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping. 

You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts. 

But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.

That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment. 

“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian. 

“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances. 

“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park. 

After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags. 

Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours. 

“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.

To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.

Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.

Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.

“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.

“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”

“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie. 

The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.

 It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?

“Look mommy! What is that?”

The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.

“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you. 

“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral. 

Sure enough he was looking at it, too. 

“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.

Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.

Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.

“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.

“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”

“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.

“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”

Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”

“Do you want one?”

Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.

“Do I want a kiss?”

You nod.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”

Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie. 

When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.

“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”

“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”

Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him. 

Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.

“—Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.

“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”

Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.

When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier. 

Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.

Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.

The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.

With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave. 

Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.

You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.

“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.

“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.” 

“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”

“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”

“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.

“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”

You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him. 

“Can I tell you something…”

You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.

“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.

“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”

“But?”

“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”

You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s. 

“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”

“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”

The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours. 

“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”

“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”

“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”

“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”

“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”

“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside. 

“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”

“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room. 

 Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.

“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.

“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace. 

“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”

“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.

“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.

“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.

“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”

“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”

“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”

Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.

For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.

Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.

But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.

“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.

But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered. 

And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move. 

You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.

At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.

Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.

“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.

“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.

“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”

“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”

You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.

You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.

“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.

You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him

“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”

“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—” 

Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you��re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.

“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.

“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”

Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.

“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.

“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”

“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”

“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”

Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”

You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”

“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.

“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door. 

“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”

Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.

“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.

“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”

That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.

“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.

“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”

“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.

She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.

“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.

“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”

“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.

“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”

“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.

The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”

“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”

“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”

The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. 

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986. 

The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so. 

But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max. 

Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long. 

As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in. 

But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips. 

And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening. 

Then it hits you. 

You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.

thank you for reading!

a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.

Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3

[stylespresleyhearted]

🍻 PUB NIGHT W/ CALLUM TURNER HEAD-CANONS

Warnings: nsfw (minor) but still beware. mentions of callum turner’s wonderful penis, quickies, hickies, and giving him head in a bar bathroom.

This is for all my Callum girlies 🫡 This man has become what I yearn for the past month. I find him absolutely perfect and his accent is sexy and he’s so normal and down to earth and funny and I’m in love. Honestly. Special thanks to all the ladies in my Callum Turner discord chat who talked about how amazing it’d be to be his girlfriend and go to a pub with him. I hope you all enjoy & feel free to come into my ask box to yell about Callum if you feel like doing so.

Masterlist can be found here.

| photo collage created by me.

-

• See, Callum’s been so busy doing promo for Masters of the Air and he’s been traveling to different cities and landing new roles. You can’t tag along everywhere; you have school or work or both but he makes sure to call you at least every morning and night and in between he’s texting you silly selfies of what he’s doing throughout the day and keeping you updated. Letting you know he’s still thinking of you even when you aren’t with him.

• He leaves Golo, his dog, with you and demands many videos of him on walks and him playing in the park. Talks to him over FaceTime and makes sure to tell him to “listen to your mum.” He’s also jealous he isn’t home to cuddle with the both of you and he tells you so.

• And when he finally comes home? Everyone is eager to catch up and see him and congratulate him on everything he’s been doing so as much as you wanna drag this man to your bedroom and keep him there, he’s an extrovert and he’s got friends and family to catch up with and projects lined up so he’s dragging you to a pub that isn’t too far from where you live.

• Not before you guys sneak in a quickie though. He takes you from the back, bending you over your make up table and blaming you for getting ready in your bra and panties. This man totally thinks you purposely shape your mouth into an ‘o’ shape to tease him when you’re doing your mascara no matter how many times you tell him it’s a universal girl thing.

• Callum hates when you wear matte lipstick because it stains his mouth and no amount of washing off in the loo will get it off. He also doesn’t like when you wear matte lipstick because you only give him pecks as you don’t want it on your teeth or staining your face.

• He doesn’t mind later in the night when you drag him to the restroom and stain his cock with your lipstick though. He loves it when you’re messy while giving him head. He loves an eager girl.

• You two are the last to arrive even though you arranged the time. There’s some goading from your friends who were all waiting for you but honestly they’re used to your tardiness, especially when Callum’s been gone for more than a couple of days.

• During your tryst he left a hickey on your collarbone and you didn’t bother covering it. Not because he’s possessive but because you loved to feel claimed by him. You don’t care if people think you look “dirty.”

• After greeting everyone he leads you over to the bar and while you wait for the bartender to approach you, leaning on the bar top, he’s got one of his large hands cupping your ass. The. Entire. Time.

• He orders a round of shots for everyone to start the night. There’s a football (soccer) game on and he makes sure to score a seat facing the television with you sat right beside him. He’s got his hand on your thigh or when his elbows are on the table and he’s gesticulating during conversation, you wrap your arms around his bicep and lean your chin on his shoulder.

• You love listening to him talk. Love how his accent thickens when he’s around his mates and it only gets worse the more drinks he has. Sometimes you have trouble understanding him but you nod along and pucker your lips for pecks when he looks to you to confirm some part of his story.

• Callum doesn’t care how many kisses you ask for or if others deem you clingy. This man enjoys all the affection and attention you give him, he loves being loved on.

• Honestly it doesn’t take long for him to say ‘fuck it’ and just pull you onto his lap. Hand on your ass/thigh to keep you close to him.

• Him and his friends talk shit to each other, rooting for opposite teams and your content just being in his presence and watching him relax because you know how much work he puts into his craft.

• The more he drinks, the redder his face gets and his chest begins to get splotchy and he starts to get sweaty but he never tries to detach himself from you no matter how hot it gets. You don’t mind the smell of his sweat or if it gets on you and you have a thing for gently nibbling on the tip of his wonderful dumbo ears as his blushed skin progresses. The first time you nibbled on his ear he thought he had to head to the loo to “take care of you”, he thought it was a sign but he soon realized it’s an affection you bestow on him when you’re drinking.

• Callum presses kisses to the hickey he left against your collarbone. Nonchalantly too, not even to draw attention to it just mid listening to a mate talk he’ll lean over to press his lips against it. You think it’s his way of letting you know he’s still attuned to you, even if he’s in conversation with someone else.

• When your friends finally manage to pull you off his lap and onto the dance floor, he stays in his seat but his attention is split between the conversation he’s in and watching you to make sure you’re okay. He trusts you and he’s confident in himself enough to not be overly possessive he just genuinely wants to make sure you’re okay throughout the night. Doesn’t want anyone spilling their drinks on you or assholes who can’t take no getting too close.

• He holds your clutch/your purse for you to make sure you don’t lose any of your items. And he never complains about keeping it safe for you.

• And you appreciate that he trusts you and lets you handle issues on your own, he truly only steps in when the person isn’t accepting ‘no’ as an answer or being a complete creep.

• You’re the opposite. You trust him but as soon as a female gets to close you make sure to stake your claim. Wrapping an arm around him or asking for a kiss, pulling him towards you and saying “come dance with me, babe.”

• He politely excuses himself from whoever was hitting on him and gives you a knowing chuckle.

• As soon as you’re beckoning him over to the dance floor he doesn’t hesitate to join you. He isn’t shy, doesn’t mind two stepping or grabbing a tight hold on your hips when you throw it back on him to a particularly raunchy song.

• He does blush a bit, but it’s hard to tell because he’s already red from the alcohol.

• You can feel the length and the girth of him against your ass when you press against him. His cock is large and thick and you get wet remembering he didn’t wipe your combined come off before he tucked it back into his jeans after your quickie.

• I will not do this man’s cock justice but we know he’s large. Everything about him is big and his penis head is probably fat, and the tip of it a bit crooked because it’s long and for more mouth watering details read Marina’s cock-versation here.

• When you turn to face him his hands immediately fall to your ass, cupping both your cheeks in his large, warm palms. Your arms around his neck, both smiling at one another all dopey and tipsy and in love.

• If there’s karaoke at the bar you both take turns dedicating a song to each other.

• Maybe even perform a duet.

• You don’t smoke so you don’t join him for any of his cigarette breaks but he only heads out after asking if you’ll be okay or if you need anything from him before he heads out.

• He comes back and wraps himself around you, smelling of cigarette obviously, but you tuck your nose into his neck and breathe deep where the smell of pure him still lies. Sweat and musky and the cologne he sprayed on.

• Callum always asks if he can kiss you after smoking because he knows the taste of cigarettes is overwhelming sometimes and you don’t smoke. Sometimes you cringe your face afterwards and it always makes him laugh. He’ll throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you in and say “sorry, love.”

• He doesn’t mind that you take loads of selfies of the two of you or photos of him or videos to keep in your camera roll. He’s always ready with a funny face or a kiss. (Or he flips off the camera - his go to pose.)

• Throughout the night, he continuously tells you how sexy you are, how pretty you look and that he knows he’s a lucky bastard to have you.

• You’re the one always making sure to order glasses of water at the end of the night. He doesn’t get drunk often and he’ll mostly stick to his Guinness, but you’re prone to waking up with hangovers after one beer.

• If you’re refusing water, he has the bar tender pour them in shot glasses and has you thinking it’s liquor. He finds you cute as hell and is watching you with a huge smile the entire time.

• There’s always a detour on the way home - a stop at your favorite pizza spot a block away from your house. If you have any of your friends with you, Callum makes sure to herd all of you like sheep and get food and water in all of you. He listens to the drunk girl conversation and goes along with anything you say.

• Once your home he helps you take off your lashes and your make up. He knows you always complain and feel bad the next morning when you sleep with it on because you break out. If you’re sober enough to do it on your own he’ll just watch you. Not wanting to get in bed until you’re in bed too.

• He makes sure there’s water on your nightstand.

• Throughout the night he’ll end up detaching from you (even though you always follow) but your first sleeping position of the night is always him curled around you as you back into him. He goes to sleep cupping your boobs because he says they keep his hand warm and he likes the feel of them. He’s a man and boobs are fun okay?

-

[callsigns-haze]

Moody Booty

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin sulks after losing a bowling game to his girlfriend, Y/N, but she quickly cheers him up by challenging him to pool, knowing he'll win and lighten up.

Word count: 1.1k

Warning: Mild competitiveness, brief sulking, and playful teasing.

Jake Seresin was a man who loved a challenge. Whether in the cockpit, in a bar, or in a game, he hated to lose. His call sign, Hangman, wasn’t just a name—it was a promise that he’d never leave anyone hanging. But tonight, under the fluorescent lights of the bowling alley, he was losing. And that, for Jake, was the worst possible outcome.

The bowling alley was buzzing with the hum of casual competition. Lanes filled with the clatter of rolling balls and crashing pins, and the sharp bursts of laughter from groups around them. Y/N, standing beside Jake, was holding a bright, neon-coloured ball in her hands. She smirked at him as she lined up for her shot.

“You ready for this, Seresin?” she teased, knowing full well that she was beating him by at least 30 points.

Jake leaned back against the scoring table, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with that sharp, cocky grin he wore like a second skin. But there was something beneath it—something tense. The way his jaw clenched when she knocked over another strike wasn’t subtle. Y/N knew him too well.

“I’m always ready, darlin’,” he drawled, even though the score didn’t lie. He was down—way down.

Y/N turned and flashed him a grin, eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and triumph. She knew she was good at bowling, but Jake? Jake always thought he could master anything. And tonight, he was realizing that wasn’t always the case.

By the time the tenth frame rolled around, it was clear. Y/N had won. She threw her hands up in mock celebration, twirling around to face Jake, who hadn’t said much after her last couple of strikes.

“That’s game!” she announced, but Jake’s expression didn’t change. He was still grinning, but it wasn’t reaching his eyes anymore.

Y/N bit back a smile.

She knew that look.

Jake hated losing—hated it more than anything. And when he did lose, he tended to sulk. Not openly, never making a scene, but he’d go quiet, his confidence dented just enough to affect his mood. Tonight was no different.

He didn’t say a word as they walked out of the alley, his hand firmly in hers, but she could feel the tension radiating from him like a storm brewing. He didn’t pout, didn’t snap—but he didn’t talk either. The air between them was thick with the unspoken truth that Y/N had, against all odds, beaten the unbeatable Jake Seresin.

“Jake?” Y/N asked as they slid into his truck.

“Hmm?” he grunted, eyes fixed straight ahead as he turned the key in the ignition.

“You’re not mad, are you?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

Y/N rolled her eyes. She’d been through this enough times to know how Jake worked. When it came to anything competitive, especially when she was involved, he always took it hard if he didn’t come out on top. It was something that could have been frustrating if it weren’t for how endearing it was. For someone who was usually so self-assured, Jake’s moments of vulnerability, even when they were over something as silly as a bowling game, were rare and almost charming.

“I beat you, Jake,” she teased, knowing it would only needle him further. “I kicked your butt. Admit it.”

“Congrats,” he muttered, still not looking at her.

She grinned, biting her lip to keep from laughing. It was too easy. She reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“You know what?” she said, her tone light and playful. “How about we head to the bar? We’ll play a couple of rounds of pool.”

At that, Jake finally looked at her, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. He knew what she was doing—pool was his game. She was offering him a way to restore his pride, to get back to what he was good at.

Y/N smiled sweetly, knowing she had him hooked. “Come on, I’ll let you win.”

Jake’s grin finally returned in full force, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark. “You’ll let me win?” he repeated, the arrogance creeping back into his voice.

“Well,” she drawled, “I figure you could use a little victory after that brutal defeat.”

Jake snorted and shook his head, but some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

Y/N gave him a wink. “Only because I am.”

He chuckled, the sound finally breaking the silence that had settled over him after his loss. He reached over, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Alright, darlin’. You’re on.”

They drove toward the local dive bar, where the pool tables were always free and the beer cheap. When they walked inside, the low murmur of conversation greeted them, along with the familiar clinking of billiard balls. Jake immediately moved to one of the tables, grabbing a cue and twirling it between his fingers with practiced ease.

Y/N knew he was back in his element. Pool was Jake’s game, and he was damn good at it. She let him break, watching as he effortlessly sank two balls on the first shot. He straightened up, flashing her a look that was pure Hangman—smug, confident, completely in control.

“You’re gonna regret bringing me here,” he said, lining up his next shot.

Y/N laughed, leaning against the edge of the table, her arms crossed over her chest. “I just want to see you happy, babe. And if it takes letting you destroy me in pool, then so be it.”

He shot her a smirk, sinking another ball. “I’m not letting you do anything. I’m gonna win this fair and square.”

And just like that, the mood between them shifted. The competitiveness was still there, but it was lighter now, wrapped in the comfort of familiarity. Jake was winning, yes, but Y/N didn’t care. Seeing him relaxed, the tension from earlier completely gone, made the game worth it.

As Jake lined up for the final shot, he glanced at her, his eyes softening. “You know I hate losing, right?”

Y/N smiled. “I know.”

He sank the eight-ball with a satisfying crack and then stood, giving her a triumphant look. “But I don’t mind as much when I’m with you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, moving toward him. “You’re such a sap, Jake.”

“Only for you, darlin’,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

And with that, the loss at the bowling alley was forgotten, replaced by the easy comfort of a victory Jake was more than happy to enjoy—with her by his side.

[yeoldecorprusarium]

Recolours: 3t2 Roaring Heights and misc. Jazz Age objects in Cluedo's palette.

Here's a bunch of recolours I made of @veranka's and @crispsandkerosene's conversions of RH objects and Ladysimplayer8 Jazz Age stuff so it would match the Cluedo defaults I have in my game.

What's included?

17 recolored masters from RH: bookcases and shelves, curtains, round wall pieces, lamps, picnic table and bench, park benches, mailbox cover, a table umbrella, wall column, two decorative architecture pieces, a potted palm and two paintings (in art deco themes, featuring Tamara de Lempicka's art, random uncredited stuff I grabbed on Pinterest and screenshots from @alexbgd, @enable--llamas and @unsimspirational).

6 recolored masters from the Jazz Age set from the store: a bar and barstool, curtains, coffee table, living chair and sofa.

DOWNLOAD (SFS)

If you would rather have beautiful blue flashing textures (great for nightclubs!) instead of my ugly, sad recolors for the Jazz Age objects, just don't grab the required meshes from here and you'll get 'em.

Most of the file size is due to the swatches, the recolors themselves are pretty small.

All files compressed and clearly named.

I didn't think I would share this when I recolored the stuff, so I renamed the meshes. Check manually for duplicates.

Credits: @shastakiss/cluedo, Ladysimplayer8, Veranka, Crisps&Kerosene, EAxis, Alexbgd, enable llamas, unsimspirational and Tamara de Lempicka.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 🂱

synopsis: you meet an especially annoying gambler at your table and as the game master, it’s your job to shut him up.

tags: dom!reader, sub!aventurine, semi-public, bickering, explicit, vulgar

wrd cnt: 800+

art cred: yue_chan077 (insta)

“Hey-! What are you doing?”

“Games over?” You reply to the blonde man.

“But I was gonna win….” He pouts.

You click the buzzing timer off and collect all the chips off the table, scooping up stacks of cards in the process.

“Everyone says they’ll win until they don’t” You taunt, yanking the cards out of his hand with a smile.

He scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair as people come and go, some collecting their winnings and others digging an even deeper hole with their debts.

As the dealer, it was up to you when to kick people out, and it seemed like the man to your left should be heading out now.

“Excuse me-? I don’t think your judgment is exactly expert. I’ll be playing a few more rounds”

You look at him with furrowed brows. “Sir, I have-“

He cuts you off, “Aventurine.”

“What?”

“I have a name darling. Use it.”

“You’re keeping up everyone waiting to play, Aventurine. I’d appreciate if you complied.”

You say with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“You’re not my boss, darling. And I’ll play for as long as I want, understood?” He challenges, eyes locked in a heated stare. You narrow your eyes and stand your ground, not backing down. “Actually, I am the boss here. Now get out of here before I call security.”

He lets out a laugh, standing up from his chair and walking towards you. “I’d like to see you try.”

You stare at him, not backing down but not stepping away either. You can feel the tension between you both, but you refuse to back down.

You whisper to him quietly, everyone at the table now focusing on the quarrel between the two of you, “I’m not some toy for you to play with, Aventurine.

“Well of course not, you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He says, trailing a hand down your back.

You try to push him away but he only grabs your arm. “Wanna bet?.”

Without hesitation, you lead him to a nearby storage closet, where you push him inside and lock the door. He raises an eyebrow in surprise, but the smirk on his face shows that he’s up for it.

You turn him around, and aggressively push him against the wall, pressing your body against his. “Do you know why I can handle it? Because I’m in control, and you’ll do whatever I say.”

He chuckles, “Is that so? How about we really make a bet then?”

You smirk back at him, “Sure, but you’re going to regret it.” Without another word, you grab his belt and start undoing it, watching as his expression changes to shock and excitement, mixed with a fuckton of arousal.

As you pull down his pants, his erection springs free, hard and ready for you.

“Oh- Well this isn’t exactly what I was-“

“Shut up. This is exactly what you were thinking about. I saw the way you kept staring at me during each game.”

“Well yeah but- Fuck…be a little gentle will you?…”

You began to stroke him, gripping his dick harder and slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, watching his head falls back against the door in pleasure.

He lets out a low moan, and you can feel him getting closer and closer to his release.

“That’s it…you’re so close aren’t you? Cum in my hand.” You whisper in his ear, cupping his face and giving him one deep, tongue filled kiss.

But you stop, leaving him gasping for air and begging for more.

“Oh no, darling. You haven’t earned it yet.” He looks at you with pleading eyes, but you only smirk and continue to tease him. You stroke him again, this time faster and harder, making sure to give him just enough pleasure to make him desperate for release. He bites his lip, trying to hold back his moans, but it only makes you go faster.

“Don’t do that. Let me hear your pathetic little voice.”

You can feel him getting closer and closer, and you know he won’t be able to hold on much longer.

With one final stroke, he lets out a loud moan as he reaches his climax, his body shaking against yours.

“Fuck- Please! I’m sorry…I apologize for earlier- just please make me cum..”.

You smirk in satisfaction, knowing you’ve won the bet and made him truly submit to you.

He stands there, panting and trying to catch his breath, as you pull away and fix your clothes.

He slowly falls to the floor with his back still against the wall, sleeking down with legs still wide open and his cock still sprung up and spurting cum all over his thigh and stomach.

With a victorious smirk, you squate down to wipe away one side of his face covered in tears before you unlock the door and exit it, leaving him a mess in the closet and shutting the door behind you without a single word.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[haikyu-mp4]

it’s a rainy day at summer camp. one of the few evenings that greeted you with bad weather instead of the setting sun, and the result was Fukurodani’s volleyball team gathered around a small tv and taking turns in a Mario Kart tournament.

you walked into the room with an order from the coach to tell everyone to quiet down, and was intrigued by the choice of game and their lack of talent in it. “you guys suck.”

everyone who wasn't playing at the moment turned abruptly, some squinting suspiciously and some laughing. “think you could do better?”

and so you were thrown into the tournament, and oh boy did you knock them off their pedestals. they didn’t stand a chance.

it earned you almost everyone’s desserts from dinner the day after, and you happily munched on pudding cup after pudding cup while they pouted about it. you shared plenty of them with the other girls as well, and you all enjoyed their defeat thoroughly.

fast forward one year later, Bokuto has made friends with Nekoma’s captain, making Fukurodani and Nekoma closer than they were with the other teams.

when Bokuto is particularly annoyed with Kuroo’s taunting after he missed some spikes in a practice game, he challenges him to a round of Mario Kart after dinner. Fukurodani vs Nekoma, choose your fighter style.

Kuroo walks into Fukurodani’s room that evening, carrying Kenma along while the setter is still playing on his console and not even paying attention. the captain looks smug, confident in his best friend’s ability to win. until he sees Bokuto standing with his arms crossed and shielding their chosen fighter.

a couple of the others from Nekoma’s team had joined, curious as to why Bokuto would challenge them in video games when he knew Kenma was there. “why do you look so smug?” Kuroo asks suspiciously.

“because we brought our secret weapon,” he answered, dramatically moving to the side and gesturing towards you. you sat patiently on a pillow, waving at the other team and smiling brightly.

“hi, guys!”

Kuroo laughed, letting go of Kenma and waving back at you. “y/n, fancy seeing you here.”

Bokuto rudely pressed his hand into Kuroo’s face. “none of that, don’t distract our player before the match!”

and while they fought, Kenma sat down beside you, finally turning off his console as you held out the other controller for him. “making me second player, hm?” you laughed at his remark, nodding.

“home base is always first player,” you teased. Konoha patted you on the back and smirked at Kenma.

“you don’t stand a chance.”

he did stand a chance. it was a close race, and you must admit you broke a sweat using every little trick you could think of.

however, it was just a chance. one he didn’t master, and you ended up with a clear victory after a mystery box gifted you with three glorious red shells on the second round, ruining any head start he might have gained.

the whole of Fukurodani’s team got up and cheered, many shaking your shoulders or ruffling your hair to praise your efforts. you looked to the side, ready to taunt Kenma a bit, but he was already staring at you. his catlike eyes made you flustered, and you quickly looked away. “I’m going to bed. good game, Kenma!”

Kenma watched the highlight reel after you left, and Kuroo had to practically drag him out of there as he could barely accept his loss. red shells don’t always mean you win. how you use them matters, and you use them perfectly. the way you drifted as well was beyond any technique he had seen before in real life.

the day after, Kenma comes over to you table with his dessert as a peace offering, and sits down across from you with his head down. “so you’re a gamer, what else do you play?”

“not really a gamer, my cousin just always brought Mario Kart for family holidays.”

Kenma stared at the table for two minutes in silence as you continued eating your lunch and chatting with your team’s other managers until he finally broke out of his trance. “can you teach me?”

“sure, catboy.” you were already eating the pudding cup, giving him a teasing wink now that he seemed so shy. this was the start of a blooming friendship.

masterlist

/when me n @cottonlemonade start brainstorming, great things happen

/this is a drabble in my head but it’s way too long for that… also, what do you think nekoma owes fukurodani after losing??

[olsenmyolsen]

You Got A Star!

master list

dark master list

No Powers AU (Female Reader X Yelena Belova)

Summary: You and your roommate, Yelena Belova, invite some friends over for Mario Party; however, Yelena has no idea about your feelings for her.

Word Count: 4K

Content: Feelings, Crushes, Mario Party, Friendship, Comfort/Hurt

Your roommate, Yelena Belova, was one of a kind.

Truly, you had never meant anyone like her. From the way she talked to how she made babies cry with one look. Or how the one thing she knew how to cook was Mac and Cheese.

You knew there would never be anyone else like her.

Which is maybe why you started to feel different around here... what began as two strangers needing a place to live slowly morphed into something else.

At least for you.

Yelena's asexual identification didn't make it impossible for her to find someone she could share a life with. It was just that you had never seen her with anyone since knowing her. So, IF Yelena were attracted to you, you would have no idea.

Regardless, your tiny crush was making itself known tonight as you waited for a few friends to come over. It was Saturday night, and after a shit week at work, you, Yelena, and your friends decided to have an impromptu game night.

"So what is it?" Yelena asked you again as you set an assortment of snacks on the hardwood coffee table. "It's called Mario Party. Each person chooses a character, and then you hit dice, play minigames, get coins, and you have to purchase stars." You looked up from the candies and savory snacks to a confused-looking blonde. "Whoever has the most wins." You said.

"Is it easy?" She asked after staring at you. You shrugged. "It can be a little challenging sometimes." Yelena hummed. "So it's not like that animal island game?" She asked with her eyes precious and wide.

A fluttering was happening in your stomach.

You cleared your throat with a smile. "No, Lena, it's not like Animal Crossing." Yelena pouted. She loved Animal Crossing no matter how much she hated Tom Crook, as she called him. Yelena opened her mouth to ask if the two of you could practice a round of this Mario Party, but a knock on the apartment door followed by its slowly opening stopped her.

"I got pizza!" Kate Bishop yelled as she entered through the small hallway. You walked past Yelena after your eyes fell to her lips without noticing. She was too busy looking at the game icon on the switch home screen. "You didn't bring Lucky?" You asked as you took the pizza boxes from your childhood friend.

Kate shook her head. "Figured it might get hectic." You nodded to her reasoning. Kate had followed you into the kitchen as you set the pizzas down. Pulling out some plates and dipping sauces.

Ranch and hot sauce for you and Yelena.

You turned around to find your friend eyeing Yelena. You looked between the two and raised an eyebrow to yourself.

"So..." You started pulling Kate's attention to you. You could see Yelena grab her special Joy-Con from the corner of your eye.

It was just the plain blue one, but she loved it.

Yelena clicked on the game as she pulled up a Let's Play on her phone of the game. You hide a laugh.

"How's your mom and her new man." Kate rolled her eyes. "He's so annoying, and he's doing things where he wants us to be like a family. It's just weird..." She shook her body as if she had a cold chill. "Plus, he has one of those old man smiles that could be threatening when all he's doing is asking for ice cream." Her voice was unhappy. She did not like this Jack guy at all.

"Y/n!" Yelena called out from the couch, making you and Kate leave the kitchen. "Yes?" You smiled and kept your voice level as you approached Yelena's side. Standing as she sat.

Yelena lifted her eyes to you before doing a double take at Kate. "Kate Bishop!? When did you get here?" Kate smiled awkwardly before licking her lips and speaking. "About five minutes ago." Yelena tilted her head. "Hmm. I did not know. You're sometimes too quiet." Kate did what she did best and chuckled lightly with a nervous laugh. "Yeah, like a mouse."

Yelena nodded before looking back at you and her phone. "Who is this?" She pointed to a Mario Party character on her tiny screen. "Oh, that's Wario." You replied. Yelena looked at you with all the seriousness in her voice. "Can I play as them?"

You nodded. "If you want."

"I want to." With one look into her eyes, you would go through hell to make sure she played as that little idiot.

"Okay, then you will." You smiled, and her face morphed into pure happiness. Like a puppy in the sun. "He reminds me of that fat short guy from that one show with the horrible people." She said as her attention moved back to the phone. You thought for a few seconds. "Are you talking about Danny Devito?!" Yelena smiled wide and bright. "Yeah, from the Sunny show!"

You couldn't help but laugh.

"That's a great character, Yelena!" Kate spoke up from behind you before not so subtly moving past you to sit next to Yelena on the couch. Her gaze was on Yelena's phone as well.

Were her cheeks pink?

"That character is like best friends with my character," Kate said, raising Yelena's eyebrows. "Really?!" You couldn't recall a time when Kate played as Walugi, but her favorite color was purple, so it probably happened at some point, and you just didn't remember.

Seconds later, a knock came to the door before YOU could explain how different Wario's dice block was from the other characters.

"Wanda! Pietro! Nice of you to join!" The twins were too busy bickering with one another to return your niceties. But Wanda did make sure to place the wine bottle in your arms.

"Y/n, did we have to knock, or could we have just let ourselves in?!" Pietro turned and looked at you with intensity. Wanda was doing the same. "Uhhh..." You looked between the siblings. "You could have just come in." You said with caution. "See!" Pietro threw his arms up while Wanda rolled her eyes. "But that's not how Mama raised us!" Wanda yelled as the two of them stormed into the kitchen.

Pietro had his nose leading him to the pizza. Wanda followed to grab glasses for the wine.

"But it's like the sitcoms you love so much. We're the friends that can come right into the apartment and join the shenanigans!"

Wanda groaned because her brother was right, and she hated it.

"Shut up!" Wanda replied before joining you in the living room, taking the wine from your hand. "Sorry. I need this NOW."

Wanda would be two and a half glasses in by the end of the night. All because of her lovely, annoying brother.

"Hey, Wanda! Hi Pietro!" Kate waved to the twins, who sent smiles and waves back. Yelena looked up and to them and gave them a nod. "Okay, so now if you land on a red monster face, you get in trouble?" Yelena asked Kate. Kate nodded and briefly explained who Boswer was.

Your eyes caught Yelena's briefly when she glanced your way. You could've sworn you saw her lip twitch upwards before she looked back to Kate.

"Here, Kate, it'll be easier to explain some of the mini-games once we're actually in the game." Kate looked up to you and your regent words sheepishly. She nodded after fumbling with her words. "Okay."

A moment later, when Kate left to grab the three of you slices of pizza, you took her spot next to Yelena. "I'll help you out if you need it." You said, which Yelena appreciated greatly but shook her head. "I shall win this game on my own!"

Your lips curled upwards with a laugh. "Oh, is that right, Lena!?" Yelena smirked and took a big sip of the wine Wanda dropped off. "Prepare to lose Y/n Y/l/n."

You took a sip of your wine as well. "We'll see Lena. We'll see."

About fifteen minutes later, You, Yelena, Kate, and Wanda were ready to start the night's first game. The disappointed look of Kate having to sit in her own chair was missed by you.

"How come there's five of us for a four-person game!" Pietro whined as you let Wanda select the level. "I asked Sam to come by, but he's busy with his test and all that." You said while waving your hand. Your friend Sam Wilson was training to become a pilot. Pietro huffed. "Fine."

"Also you fairly lost at rock papart scissors so sorry dude." You added on like rubbing salt in the wound. Wanda turned around and stuck her tongue out to her brother. Pietro angrily bit into his third slice of pizza and flipped her off.

The game was underway, and the order was set. Kate went first, followed by you and then Wanda. Yelena rolled a 3 and had to go last.

"Hey, that might be good; you can make your moves based on where other people are. Not where they might be." You said, cheering Yelena up slightly.

Kate and Wanda dominated the first few turns and minigames as you and Yelena struggled to move more than 4 per turn. You knew it was bad luck, but Yelena was about one more 1 v 3 mini-game from switching her joy-con until Kate got the first star.

"Who is that again?" Yelena asked as Toad started moving to a new spot on the map. "Toad. He's like a mushroom guy." Kate answered before you could. "Fuck! It's farther from me!" Wanda exclaimed as you turned towards the TV. Your eyes moving away from Yelena's side profile.

Toad landed seven spots in front of Yelena.

She could make it to him but she didn't have enough coins.

Luckily, when it was Yelena's turn, she rolled a five and landed on a blue space. Yet she was still short in terms of payment.

"Oh great, it's this one!" Wanda groaned. "Y/n's the be-" "Who wants to practice!?" You cut Wanda off and gave her a quiet glare; the other two people playing didn't seem to notice.

When everyone loaded into the practice mode, Wanda just gave you a confused look before forgetting about it.

Surprisingly, Yelena was just as good as you at rapidly clicking the button to send the little shy guy flying. But still, you won the practice mode. "Oh, come on, Y/n!" Yelena whined. "How did you do that?"

"What happened to winning the game on your own?" You said with your teasing voice dripping. Yelena loved that attitude and smirked. "Okay, Y/l/n, watch this." You turned towards the TV just before the mini-game started properly.

But not before you saw Kate's eyes on your blonde roommate.

"Come on!" Wanda yelled as her fingers smashed the button repeatedly. Kate groaned and held her breath as she did the same. You kept your technique unchanged, and Yelena did her best to copy you.

However, you knew from the practice round and every other game prior that you could do this with one with your eyes closed. But you had a crush on the blonde sitting next to you who cursed at her little yellow piece of shit character. Her words. So, without anyone realizing it, you stop mashing your button a few seconds before the timer ran out.

"Fuck that hurts!" Kate waved her hand around as the four shuguys began to take off.

Wanda's was the first to hit the ground. A laugh from her brother earned him a slap on the arm. Kate's followed the same destiny not long after, and to everyone's surprise, yours was the next to fail.

Wanda turned to you, shocked, but once Yelena realized she had won, Wanda put the pieces together and joined in the celebration of your defeat.

You were more than fine with it. Because now Yelena had enough coins to get her first-ever star.

She would never know it was really because of you.

"I'm taking a picture of this moment," Pietro said, making everyone laugh as Yelena hit the button to accept the Star from Toad.

"You Got A Star!" The game applauded! "I did it!" Yelena cheered and clapped to herself before you wrapped an arm around her and smiled at Pietro's dad's pose with the camera.

You thought Pietro had taken the picture when you shifted your face to take in Yelena's happiness.

Except, that was the picture that was taken.

Wanda made sure to show the one that followed where it looked like you were looking at the corner of the room.

After that, Yelena's luck turned for the better. She was on a roll. A few turns later, she earned another shiny star from a hidden block that left Kate flummoxed. "All I ever get is coins from those! Are you serious?!" Yelena laughed loudly at Kate.

Yelens then landed on Toad's space again after using a triple dice, and not even the prediction that you would win the game could stop Yelena.

Which left you, Kate, and Wanda struggling to do as much damage as possible to each other in the final turns of the first game.

"Yes!" Kate cheered when she got the last star next, making her and Yelena tied going into the Bonus Stars.

"Well, this sucks." Wanda sighed as she fell back against the couch. "There's no way I'm going to catch up!"

"What's happening?" Yelena asked no one in particular, but you still spoke up. "Bonus Stars. So once the game ends, it will still award additional stars to people. It makes it more exciting. Usually, it's like whoever landed on the most green spaces or landed on Bowser the most. Stuff like that." You explained, and you smiled when the blonde shifted her face to look at you.

However, your smile faltered a bit when you saw her eyes and the pout she wore. "So I might not win?"

"You can still win." You said with your voice soft. Yelena looked over your face as the moment became more intimate.

At least to you. You felt Wanda's gaze on you but moved your eyes to the TV.

"Yelena, look!" Kate pulled Yelena's attention away as the bonus star for the most distance traveled was being awarded.

It went to Wario.

And so did the next Bonus Star, which left Yelena jumping off the couch and into your arms when you stood up. "You did it!" You exclaimed loudly.

"I won the Mario Party!"

Your eyes shined as you looked at the way Yelena, how she couldn't control her excitement. It reminded you of the time you had won $200 on a lottery ticket, and you and Yelena went shopping. She bought a fur coat and wears it every time it hits below 45 degrees. (Fahrenheit)

You would always wanted her to be happy.

With the first round of Mario Party over, Wanda switched out with Pietro, and you did your best not to get competitive over the next game on the map in space. Yelena tried her hardest but found herself struggling. Pietro was just as fast in the game as he was in real life. Zooming from star to star, leaving you and Kate reeling.

"Y/l/n third place again!" Yelena teased as she landed herself in a solid second place behind Pietro. You went to jokingly retaliate, but Kate stole Yelena's attention and challenged her to a different Mario game.

Mario Kart.

Yelena's eyes went wide with fear before you slowly watched how they shifted.

Determined Yelena would be.

However, that would have to wait for another night as you looked at your phone, seeing how late it had gotten. Everyone agreed and helped you and the blonde clean up.

Pietro helped by eating two more slices.

"Oh hey, Y/n, before I leave, do you still have that red jacket? I wanted to borrow it for a party Lorna is throwing next week. It would fit the theme." Wanda said, shrugging her arms. You nodded and let her follow you to your bedroom.

"Here." You said, pulling the jacket off the hanger and holding your arm back. "Oh, thanks!" Wanda said as she grabbed it, and you turned around. Your eyes immediately noticed how your door had been shut.

"Wanda?" Sure, the two of you kissed when the clock struck midnight on New Year two years ago, but Wanda didn't have feelings. Did she? "Okay, spill!" Wanda said as she was closer than before—her voice above a whisper.

"Spill?"

"You and Yelena! What's going on there?" Ah! "Did you need this?" You said, picking up the arm of the jacket. Wanda shook her head. "I saw how you were looking at her! I take it she doesn't know?" You sighed. If there was anyone, you could count on sharing your newfound crush with, it was Wanda. "No, she doesn't know." You sighed again as you sat on your bed.

"Are you gonna tell her? Tonight?" Wanda asked, joining you by your side with her arms clutching the jacket. "I don't know... I want to... But."

"But it's Yelena." You nodded to Wanda's words. "I would also just hate to ruin our friendship." Wanda could understand. "Well, sometimes the biggest risks have the best rewards." You hated her cat poster-like words of wisdom, but she wasn't necessarily wrong. "Plus." You lifted your head to Wanda's green eyes before she continued. "At the end of the day, it's Yelena. Even if she didn't reciprocate those feelings with you, you know she wouldn't want anything to change between the two of you. You're best friends. She'll always be in your life. I'm sure it might be hard if she doesn't like you like you. But-"

"But I'd want her around." You finished Wanda's sentence. Wanda nodded, put her arm around you before her hand moved, and rubbed your back. "You're a big girl. You got this."

"You had to ruin it."

Wanda laughed loudly and let you rise from the bed. Before you helped her up. You definitely needed a new box spring.

Opening the door to your bedroom, your eyes caught Yelena's as she exited a hug from Kate. Her eyes quickly moved away from you and Wanda as she confirmed her plans to practice Mario Kart for the next game night, whenever that would be.

"Got the jacket. Let's go!" Wanda yelled to her brother, who was helping out and putting the leftover pizza in foil for you. Oh, no, wait. He was grabbing some to go.

Kate noticed where your eyesight had gone and laughed at Pietro's actions before giving you a tight hug. "Tonight was so much fun, thank you!" You hugged your childhood friend just as tight. "Thanks for coming."

Kate then moved to Yelena and was awkward as she accidentally punched Yelena in the boob as she lifted her arm to hug the blonde. Again. Yelena laughed loudly as Kate blushed before they hugged. Kate left with a cloud of smoke after that.

"Bye, Y/n. Bye, Yelena!" Pietro said his goodbye first with a quick wave to you and a side hug to Yelena. Wanda turned around and hugged you before turning and doing the same to the blonde. You smiled as you walked closer to the door at the end of the apartment hallway. "Bye, guys!" You waved as you shut the door to Wanda, mouthing, "Talk to her."

With a click, the door was locked, and it was just you and Yelena. "That was a good time, Y/n!" Your cheeks wore a light pink as you moved away from the door. Following Yelena in the living room area. "I'm glad you had fun, Lena."

Yelena moved to the couch and grabbed the remote as you entered the kitchen to grab some water. Your mind racing with a way to bring up you're feelings. "I'm not tired yet. Do you want to watch a movie?" Yelena called out from the living room. "Uh, sure! Just pick whatever!" You called out with your voice jumping from your nerves.

You took longer than one would need to fill out their water bottle. Thankfully, Yelena didn't seem to notice as she swiped through hundreds of different options.

She was trying to find something specifically tailored to you.

"You like this one, no?" Yelena asked as you finally sat down. The movie was Legally Blonde, and Yelena knew you loved it, so why was she questioning it? One look and you could see her mind had been racing too.

And for some reason, that calmed your nerves just a bit. What if she felt the same way you did?

You hid a smile and scooted closer to Yelena, who tensed up slightly before pulling you in and dropping an arm around you. "Should I have made popcorn?" You asked. Yelena shook her head. "Still full."

You were, too.

As Elle Woods began to wake up on the screen, you bit your lip. Would during or after the movie be an appropriate time to talk to Yelena?

"Y/n?" Yelena's voice broke you from your thoughts as you lifted your eyes to her. Yelena was chewing on her lip. "Yeah?"

"I have something to say, and I don't know how you're going to take it." Your heart started beating faster than you ever thought possible. "Okay." You said as the movie fell into a black hole behind you. Your body lifts off Yelena to give her your entire attention.

Could this be it?

Yelena sighed before her eyes fell on you. They were gentle. "Tonight, I discovered something... and I'm unsure how to move forward."

You knew the feeling.

"Okay..." Yelena moved her leg below her and turned more towards you. "I... I-" You had never seen Yelena so nervous and flustered. Not even when she booked a trip to Paris, Texas, and not Paris, France. "Yelena." You reached for her hand and took it. "Whatever it is. I'm here for you. I can help."

Yelena knew this, yet she was anxious. "I think I might have a crush on-" "Oh wow! Okay! Tha-"

"On Kate," Yelena said with the words flying out of her. She needed to get this off her chest. She needed you to know. She didn't like this feeling inside of her as she was keeping this to herself. Plus, Kate Bishop was your childhood best friend. Yelena didn't want to make that uncomfortable for you.

"Now! I know this might be weird! But I-" Yelena stopped and quickly gathered her words—enough time for you to process what just happened and to hear your heart become shattered glass.

"There is just something about her. I'm drawn in. She's clumsy but beautiful. Funny!" Yelena laughed to herself as a fake smile finally appeared on your face. "But!" Yelena gripped your hand, and you still felt butterflies in your stomach due to the touch of her soft fingers. "If you have a problem with this or feel uncomfortable, let me know!"

Yelena was dead serious. If you told her that it would make things... unbearable she wouldn't pursue any bit of this with Kate. But you couldn't do that to her. You wouldn't put her own happiness in jeopardy. "It's okay." You said with a smile—another fake one.

You had to fake it now. You could cry later.

"Are you sure?" You nodded. "Absolutely!" You said. Yelena nodded a tad. "It's just she's your childhood friend, and I'm your best friend-"

"Yeah. You're my best friend, Yelena, so of course I want you to be happy."

You said with an enthusiasm you didn't know you could muster. But it finally convinced Yelena, who pulled you in for a hug. "Oh, thank you, Y/n Y/l/n!" She said into your neck. You closed your eyes and let the moment happen. "I love you, Y/n!" Yelena said with a loud cheeriness in her voice.

"I love you too, Yelena!" You whispered back.

By the time the next game night rolled around, Yelena and Kate were dating.

You hated Mario Kart after that.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 4.2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: banter, bad pick-up lines

words: 3.6k

Summary: After Penny allowed you to open the bar for the few navy pilots, you hang with your group at the pool table since you weren't actually working and you challenge Hangman to a game of pool...

a/n: I hope you have as much fun reading this chapter as I had writing it. It's probably one of my favorites. All the pick-up lines used in this chapter are courtesy of the instagram page of jimmyandnath. Check them out, they're really funny.

Link to my masterlist

“Who’s ready for the first round?”, you called out and everybody basically ran towards the counter. By now, you were used to those kinds of rushes, they didn’t scare you anymore. You collected their credit cards and opened the tabs before you placed a few bottles of beer on the counter and opened them in a row. Then you filled the glasses with the beer from the tap and handed out a few tumblers with Whiskey, Bourbon or Jack Daniels. Everybody spread out across the bar, someone put some money in the jukebox and filled the room with music. Counting yourself, there were 13 people in the bar but they managed to make it sound like thrice the amount.

Since you weren’t actually working tonight, you grabbed a beer and walked over to the pool table where your typical group of people had settled for now. It was nice to get the chance to sit down with them for a change. Normally you were working and didn’t have time for a real chat, only some small talk or, in Hangman’s case, a little back and forth of jokes and banter.

“Hey Y/N, up for a round of pool? We’re playing two against two”, Fanboy asked you. You found Hangman and Coyote on the other side of the table, revealing who your opponents were going to be. You always wanted to play against Hangman and this was your chance. “Sure”, you simply said and hopped off the bar stool at the wall. Bob handed you his cue as he walked past you and took your seat.

“I always see you play every time you’re in here. Let’s see how good you really are”, you challenged Hangman when you stepped up to the table. “Oh, I am good, I’m very good”, Hangman assured you.

You put the end of the cue down on the floor and it slipped from your hand. “Whoops”, you said in surprise and picked it back up. When you stood straight again, you caught Hangman and Coyote exchanging a look like it would be the easiest thing in the world to beat you at this game.

“How we’re gonna do this, Fanboy?”, you asked and tried again to lean on your cue. “Uhm, okay, we’re playing team against team, meaning every time it’s our turn we take turns playing the ball”, he explained to you and didn’t look so excited about forming a team with you anymore.

“And do we play with the fully colored ones or do we play all and just see who’s quicker?”, you asked and had trouble holding down your giggle. Even to your own ears you sounded stupid. “That is determined by the break”, he answered. “Who’s taking a break?”, you asked bluntly. “I mean when we shoot the first shot, we’ll see which we sink first and we play the rest of that color”, he explained and almost looked pained.

“Okay, then let’s go”, you said enthusiastically. Hangman had a wide smile on his face. He couldn’t wait to start playing and wipe the floor with you.

“Wanna make it interesting? How about a little bet?”, Payback stepped forward. You looked at Hangman and he looked at you, challenging you with his eyes. “I don’t think we need to put a bet on it”, Fanboy chimed in, sounding nervous. “Alright. What do you suggest?”, you asked but looked at Hangman.

“When I win, you have to serve me every drink with a bow and a ‘here’s your drink, my master’ for a week”, Hangman suggested, his look dead on you. The fact that he used when and not if didn’t go unnoticed by you. You let your tongue run along the inside of your bottom lip as you contemplated.

“Okay. And if I win you have to work a shift at the Hard Deck, call me boss all night and literally do anything I tell you to. You’ll be pretty much my bitch”, you countered his bet.

You saw how his jaw stiffened, his teeth grinding and you had to bite down on the inside corners of your mouth to keep them from curling upwards.

He extended his hand and you took it. “The bet is on”, he almost grunted. His grip tightened around your hand. “Nervous?”, he asked, not letting go just yet. “Only about the many glasses you’re gonna drop during your shift”, you threw back at him with an equally low voice.

Coyote and Fanboy stood off to the side, exchanging looks and already regretting being your team mates.

“Alright, let’s do this”, you said, walked back to where you were first sitting, pushed your cue into Bob’s hands and took a sip of your beer. You used the hairband you had on your wrist to tie your hair back up into a ponytail. Meanwhile, Coyote set up the balls in the triangle on the other side of the table and after doing so, placed the plastic triangle on the little table behind him.

You took your cue back from Bob’s hands and walked back to the table. “Who’s starting us off?”, you asked in the round, looking at Fanboy, Coyote and then Hangman, who was smiling, confident of victory. “Ladies first”, he said and placed the cue ball on the marked spot on the table.

“I can take the first shot”, Fanboy came a step closer, whispering, looking as concerned as can be. “I got this, don’t worry”, you whispered back and winked at him.

“Gentlemen”, you announced with a loud voice, focusing everybody’s attention on you and you took the two steps to stand directly in front of the cue ball. “We’re playing 8-ball on a 9-foot-regulation table. I will start us off with the break”, you said, bent forward, aligned your cue with the cue ball and took the first shot.

You watched as the balls spread out on the table, a solid and a striped one disappeared in the pockets. “Table is open”, you announced and walked around the table to where the cue ball had landed and aimed your next shot. “Solids, number 2, right side pocket”, you announced your shot and after a second of aiming, you sank your next ball.

“Fanboy, you’re up”, you told him and looked up from the table. You found everybody looking at you with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. Your face lit up with a confident smile.

“Wait, what?”, Fanboy called out and said what everybody was thinking. “What the hell just happened?”, Payback asked. “I played a lot of pool in my twenties”, you simply said and shrugged your shoulders.

“Why did you act like you haven’t seen a pool table from up close before?”, Coyote asked. “And miss out on the stupid looks on your faces? No way!”, you told him and shot a big smile at Hangman, who was suspiciously silent.

“Come on, Fanboy”, you called him again, nodding at the table to take his shot. He walked to where the cue ball had landed and started to aim at the number 5. “Take the 7, over the head rail”, you advised him and motioned the way the cue ball had to travel with your finger in the air. He breathed out loudly, indicating that that wasn’t an easy shot for him. “You got this”, you patted his back.

Fanboy took a beat to think about the shot. “Number 7, left side pocket”, he announced, aligned his cue and took the shot over the head rail like you had told him. The ball came a bit slow but he managed to sink it. “Yes!”, he called out and you high-fived.

It was your turn again. You grabbed the chalk and gently wiped it over the tip of your cue, holding the eye contact with Hangman, a sugary sweet smile on your face. You blew the dust off the cue tip, still looking at him. Only after that, you took a look at the table and decided on your next shot.

“Number 1, bottom right corner, over the long rail”, you announced the shot and executed it perfectly which earned you a few Ohs and Ahs from your little audience.

Fanboy was up again and despite his best efforts, he didn’t manage to sink the ball and now it was, finally, Hangman’s turn. “Okay, let’s get this over with”, he said, rolled his shoulders back and bent his neck to either side as he stepped towards the table.

“12, upper left”, he said and quickly sank the ball. You took a sip from your beer, not getting nervous. His cockiness will ultimately be his downfall, you could only hope that the time has come tonight. You did everything in your power to make that happen.

Hangman went on to immediately align his cue with the cue ball again. “Hey, it’s Coyote’s turn”, Rooster called out Hangman’s little cheat. Jake presented Rooster with a death-glare before he rose up again and took a step back. You and Fanboy exchanged a little smirk as Hangman seemed a bit nervous.

Coyote, sadly, couldn’t handle the pressure and missed his shot. “Come on, man”, Hangman called out in frustration. “Oh, is it me again?”, you asked with playful innocence and walked towards the table. You heard Rooster chuckling behind you.

The cue ball had landed on the opposite side of the table and you had to walk around to where Hangman was standing. “Excuse me”, you said and looked up at him from under your lashes. If you weren’t mistaking, you heard him growling at you before he reluctantly took a step to the side.

You scanned the table. For the solids, the numbers 4, 5 and 6 were left before you had to sink the 8-ball and would, ultimately, win the game and the bet with Hangman. But with how your balls were set on the table at the moment, every shot was tricky.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you went through the possible shots in your head, visualizing them. “Okay, number 6, left side pocket”, you announced and bent forward to place the cue on the edge of the table. “How?”, Phoenix asked confused as the cue ball was nowhere near placed for that shot to be possible in her eyes. You extended your arm and let the cue shoot forward, hitting the cue ball, which bounced off the opposite long rail from where you were standing, hitting the short rail and coming straight for the number 6, not only sinking the ball but also stopping in a perfect place for Fanboy’s next shot.

“Like this”, you said to her and stood up straight again. You turned to look at Hangman and said, “Geometry, baby!”, and shot him a sly grin. When playing pool, your cockiness could match his and you weren’t the slightest way sorry about that because you knew you were good at it. Hella good!

Fanboy sank the number 5 with ease and now only the number 4 was left. But it was an impossible shot and everybody saw it. And if you weren’t sure already, you only needed to take a look at Hangman’s face which lit up like a child’s face on Christmas morning.

“Okay, we all see it, I’m gonna say it. There’s no way I’ll sink that ball, but here goes”, you said. Since you knew it was about to be Hangman’s turn, you at least tried to place the cue ball as shitty as possible. He still had a lot of balls on the table though, so it wasn’t impossible to hit something.

“Oh, is it my turn again?”, he asked cheerful and came up to the table after taking a sip of his drink. “13, upper left”, he announced and sank it. “10, right side pocket”; Coyote stepped up and sank his ball too. Now they had finally found their flow and sank ball after ball. Your hopes of beating Hangman at something died little by little with every ball he and Coyote sank.

Hangman was about to sink his last ball before the 8-ball. “It was nice wiping the floor with you two”, he said with a slimy voice and bent forward to take his second to last shot.

He indeed sank the last ball but he also sank the cue ball and therefore immediately forfeited his turn to you.

Everybody gasped including you. The expression on Hangman’s face was a picture for the gods. “Oh my!”, you called out and hopped off your chair with big eyes. Fanboy still had to sink the number 4. It was a hard shot but not impossible. Like a real fighter pilot, he withstood the pressure and sank the ball.

Now, only the 8-ball was left on the table. They only thing you had to do was sink it and you could call sweet victory our own. You emptied your bottle of beer and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You stepped forward towards the table and stood next to Fanboy. Everybody’s eyes were glued to the table while you studied the placement of the ball and whispered to your team partner about the ways to sink it, all while swiping the chalk over the tip of your queue.

“Okay, how about you shoot the cue ball here, not too hard, have it hit the second diamond. Then it should go into the bottom right”, Fanboy suggested as he walked halfway around the table and placed his finger on the spot where he suggested for you to aim.

“Stop helping her”, Hangman called out, looking increasingly more nervous. “They’re on the same team, Bagman”, Phoenix said before she took a sip of her beer.

“Everybody shut up”, you said in a loud voice and bent over to take your shot. You aligned your cue and took a deep breath, focusing on the spot where Fanboy still had his finger placed.

You took another deep breath and when you exhaled, you pushed your cue forward and took your shot. It got really silent as everybody watched the white ball hit the spot at Fanboy’s finger than rolling back into your direction, hitting the 8-ball just enough to have it roll towards bottom right pocket. It moved slowly but consistently and your grip on your cue got tighter as you watched it for every long second until it finally fell into the pocket.

Hangman looked at the pocket in disbelief with big eyes and let his head hang in defeat.

“AHHHH!”, you screamed out in surprise that it actually worked just like the people around you. You threw the cue onto the table and ran towards Fanboy, who was coming at you equally excited and threw yourself into his arms. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we won”, you told him with big eyes as you pulled back at an arms-length. “It was all you, Y/N. That was amazing”, Fanboy congratulated you.

You felt hands on your shoulders that were squeezing and shaking you. When you looked over your shoulder you found Rooster looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He was just so happy that Hangman just got it handed to him. “That was awesome”, he congratulated you. “Thanks”, you said with a bright smile that you just couldn’t wipe off your face.

Your eyes fell on Hangman who was coming towards you. He extended his hand. “Congrats! I didn’t think you’re gonna make that shot”, he said as he shook your hand. “Are you gonna be a sore loser?”, you asked. “I don’t know, I haven’t lost until now so we’ll see”, he said and the cocky tone in his voice was back. That didn’t last long. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Well, then I’ll make sure you don’t forget this moment so you get a LOT of practice”, you said and it sounded like a promise.

“Let’s raise our drinks to Y/N, the defeater of Bagman”, Phoenix called out and everybody raised their bottles and glasses to toast to you. Even Jake managed to grab his beer and give you a little toast while you smiled in the round and bathed in your victory.

A little later, everybody was sitting in little groups at the tables, the jukebox was playing in the background. You were sitting together with Fanboy, Payback, Rooster, Phoenix, Bob, Hangman and Coyote after handing out more drinks and somehow you had arrived on the topic of stupid pick-up lines.

“Are you my pinky toe? ‘Cause I bang you on the table seven times a day”, Fanboy said and some of the guys nodded, other’s laughed, you and Phoenix rolled your eyes.

“Is that a phone in your back pocket? ‘Cause that ass is calling me”, Coyote said. “I like that. That would work on me ‘cause my ass is great”, you said and clinked the neck of your bottle against Coyote’s. You must really be a bit drunk to just say stuff like that to everybody.

“Okay, I got one. Are you a shark? ‘Cause I’ve got some swimmers for you to swallow”, it was Paybacks turn to be gross. “Come on”, you called out, pulled a face but laughed anyway.

“My dick is so polite, it stands up so you can sit down”, Bob suddenly spoke up. The table got quiet and everybody looked at him with big eyes, seriously surprised that those words had just come out of his mouth. “Ma man”, Coyote leaned forward and patted Bob’s shoulder. The whole table erupted in laughter “Dude, you’re making me blush”, you said and in return made him blush. “That’s a good one, I gotta write that down”, Fanboy said and jokingly pulled over a napkin like he was actually taking notes. “Yeah? Let me know how that works out for ya”, Rooster commented with a chuckle and took a swig of his drink.

“Are you a washing machine? Because I have a load for you”, Hangman said and everybody groaned. “Hangman, don’t make me ring that bell. You know the rules”, you warned him and pointed at the sign hanging in the middle of the bar circle. “What did I do?”, he asked surprised. “You’re bordering on disrespecting women”, you told him. “Your whole existence is a disrespect to women”, Phoenix chimed in. “I just said what everybody else said. Why is it gross when I say it?”, he asked honestly offended. “Because everything sounds gross when you say it”, Phoenix lectured him. “Whatever”, he said and threw some empty peanut shells at her which made her laugh.

“Why is it always about banging and swallowing your stuff? What happened to ‘Hello, my name is…Can I buy you a drink?’ or ‘You look beautiful, I would like to get to know you’”, you asked into the round, honestly irritated. Phoenix nodded agreeingly while she took a sip from her drink. “Those phrases have been worn out, they don’t work anymore”, Payback waved it off. “Works when you haven’t heard it that much”, you mumbled at the rim of your beer bottle before you took a sip. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hangman looking over at you.

“You have to be clever, creative or those chicks won’t give you any attention”, Fanboy chimed in and pulled everybody’s attention on him. “And you wanna tell me that a cheesy pick-up line talking about your jizz will earn you more numbers than an honest ‘Hello, how are you’?”, Phoenix asked and shook her head. “Works on the right girls. I like ‘em freaky”, Fanboy answered her and wiggled his eyebrows.

“No wonder, you never get laid”, Rooster commented and made everybody laugh.

“You guys need a new round?”, you asked to change the topic. “I think we’re good for the night”, Rooster said and finished his beer. “We’ve got an early call tomorrow”, he added and got up from his chair.

“Hey, everybody! Pack it up”, Phoenix shouted and earned a few groans. It was already past 10 PM.

Not only did everybody collect their things, ready to go, but to your surprise, they all brought their bottles and glasses to the bar, placing them on the counter.

“Wow, thanks guys. Why don’t you do this every time?”, you jokingly asked as you closed the tabs and started handing back all the credit cards.

“Do you know how you get home? You shouldn’t drive”, Rooster asked as you handed him his card. “A bunch of you shouldn’t drive home anymore”, you countered. “We all Uber home and get our cars tomorrow”, he replied. “Oh okay, sounds reasonable”, you nodded and collected the glasses off the bar. “You should come with us, we get an Uber pool anyways”, Phoenix leaned on the counter, resting her head in her hands.

“I still have to clean up, you don’t have to wait for me”, you shook your head and smiled at her begging face. “Just come in earlier tomorrow”, Fanboy suggested. “It hurts my heart leaving you here”, Phoenix added and it made you chuckle.

“Alright, just let me put all the glasses in the baskets and wipe down the counter real quick”, you yielded your protest. “Yay”, Phoenix said and came around the bar. “I’m helping you. Come on, guys”, she waved over her colleagues.

“I’ll get us the Uber”, Payback said and got out his phone. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Coyote and Hangman leaving through the front door.

With the help of the others, it only took you a few minutes to clean up most of the bar before the Uber arrived. The six of you got in the van and got dropped off one by one at your houses and apartments. You were the last one in the car and it was 11 PM when you finally walked through your front door.

Next chapter: Part 5.1

[hellfirenacht]

Splash Zone

Summary: You and Eddie go to Gareth's Pool Party

Fluff and bullshit, no y/n, reader not described, I don't think I used any pronouns for reader actually, not beta'd, implied Eddie x Reader

1k words

Eddie knew that of all the members in Hellfire that Gareth was the most well off next to Jeff. Well, in theory he knew that since it was Gareth’s parents who allowed Corroded Coffin to play in the garage a few times a week for practice. Eddie had even been inside of the home once or twice to use the bathroom, and had only caught glimpses of the pool in the backyard. 

It was the hottest day of the year when Gareth invited everyone over to his place for his birthday. He grumbled that it was his parents that really wanted to throw him a huge bash for his 17th, but it’s not like the kid had any friends outside of Hellfire to come. So it was decided that after practice, Hellfire Club would spend the afternoon in the backyard eating cake and pizza and enjoying the freshly cleaned pool. 

You showed up an hour after practice ended, and made your way to the back yard where music was blasting out of a very nice looking boombox. You dropped your birthday present for Gereth off on the table and made your way over to where the boys were all lined up with their heels against the edge of the pool. Most of them were soaked, but Eddie was still bone dry, they all looked excited and nervous as Eddie paced the line, holding what looked like a small magazine in his hands.

“Gareth. You have entered the long corridor and there are two doors. One red, and one blue. Which door do you enter?” Eddie had a maniacal grin. 

You walked over beside Eddie, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on here?”

“We’re just playing a game.” Eddie said waving the magazine. ADVENTURELAND was written on the front with a picture of a dragon. “I’m running the game and every time they die or make a stupid decision, I push them in the pool.”

“Are you a fucking nerd or something?” you asked, stripping down to your swimsuit, and making your way to the line up. 

You had always known Eddie as a passionate DM, but seeing him now was next level. Everyone was taking the game seriously, but you just couldn’t. Normally you gave Eddie the respect he deserved as a dungeon master and rarely derailed on purpose but this was a special occasion. 

After a few rounds of staying dry, Eddie approached you with the magazine and read from it dramatically. “Adventurer, you have made it to the cavern and inside you see a sword, a golden apple, and a letter. What do you do?”

“I attack the darkness.” You said, crossing your arms. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

“Did I stutter?”

Eddie turns and sets the magazine down and the others take a step to the side away from you. You stood there with a smirk and crossed your arms as Eddie approached you. 

“Using your fire ball, you attack a dark corner of the room.” He says. “The spell lights up the walls for a brief moment, and the air grows hotter. Then.... nothing happens.” 

“Damn, I was sure that would do someth-THING!” Your response quickly turned into a squeal as he shoved you into the pool. You flailed as your back hit the cool water with an impressive splash. You stayed below the water for a moment before resurfacing with a laugh, wiping the water off your eyes. 

You darted over to the stairs and hurried back into your place in the line up, feeling better about the heat now that you were soaked as your friends laughed and rolled their eyes. 

This continued for the rest of the afternoon, as Eddie gave you all guidance and you all decided on what your shared character should do. With each misstep, one of you would be hurled into the pool by Eddie. 

By the end of the adventure about an hour later, you all were soaked to the bone but emerged victorious with the treasure and the day saved. In victory, everyone except Eddie jumped in the pool and started splashing each other. 

You looked over at Eddie with a raised eyebrow. “Not going to join them?” you asked. 

“Yeah, I don’t exactly have swim trunks.” He said, glancing down at his shirt and cut off jeans. 

“So?” you raised an eyebrow. “Oh shit, is that why you were playing? You didn’t want to get in without a swimsuit?” 

“It’s fine. No use buying one when you’re not exactly in the vicinity of any pools.” He shrugged. 

“Can you even swim?” you asked. 

He glared at you. “I can swim. I grew up swimming in Lovers Lake.” 

“Cool. Get in the pool.” you said. 

“Are you serious?” 

“It’s a pool party. Get in the pool.”

“Listen I-” He started backing up towards the pool as he saw the feral look in your eyes. 

“Can swim. You’re getting in, Munson.” You adjusted your stance, getting ready to pounce. 

“Hold on- shit I have- shit- wait!” Eddie reached into his pockets and frantically pulled out his lighter and wallet and threw them onto the table. 

You weren’t a monster, so you waited politely as Eddie removed anything that he didn’t want to get wet, including his shirt. There was no stopping the way your eyes raked over his torso and the ink on his chest. The site only made your heart beat faster. 

Once you decided it was all clear, you ran at Eddie, ready to push him into the pool. His arms wrapped around your waist and with a jump and a twist, the two of you toppled into the pool together as the rest of your friends cheered. 

Eddie’s fringe fell into his eyes as he emerged from the water with you. He shook his head like a wet dog and splashed you immediately. 

“Do you always have to make things harder on me?” he asked. 

“Only when it’s fun for me- HEY!” You sputtered as Eddie splashed you with the might of poseidon. 

You countered by jumping on his back and clinging to him like a tree. “I’ll remember this next time we’re alone.” You said quietly to him.

“Yeah? I look forward to it.” Eddie smirked and jumped backwards onto his back, taking you down with him once again. 

---

A/N: I'm trying to write more drabbles because I'm always writing and have very little to show for it. So expect more one shots and short fics between chapters <3

[xxsycamore]

KING'S GAME

╰┈➤ ❝ I just need to know in case…❞ ❝ In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips? ❞ - After a round of some silly drinking game, MC can't help but have certain thoughts about Napoleon and how easily he takes on the role of someone in power. Naturally, she wants to know his boundaries of it.

Napoleon Bonaparte/MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Drinking Games; Alcohol; Shenanigans; Humor; Sexual Tension; Massage; Kink Negotiation; Sexual Roleplay; Power Play; Dominant Napoleon; Dom/sub; Master/Servant; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Choking; Dacryphilia; Stripping; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Fingering; Begging; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Aftercare • wordcount: 6,055 • masterlist

a/n: The idea for this fic was conceived long before an event of the same theme came to Ikevamp EN... We ended up not seeing them all play together in the game so I hope this right here fixes that, maybe? I have no idea how it ended up being that long. I guess I've been looking for the right opportunity to explore this part of Napoleon's character in a smut fic, namely his feelings about being called emperor and the likes in the bedroom. Hope you enjoy!

"Oh, I know! How about we play the Ousama game? It's a popular drinking game back home, in my era!"

It's rare for MC to be the one initiating activities on game nights, so naturally, all eyes are on her. Dazai is quick to give his enthusiastic approval, wanting to know more about a game that came after his time but originates from his homeplace. Sebastian smiles in a similar fashion.

"Good pick, MC. I think our residents are going to like it. Will you please excuse me for a second?"

As Sebastian stands up from the table and dashes out of the room, someone's comment oh my god, he's totally fetching his diary, can be heard. But really, there are no hard feelings. Everyone's more than happy to welcome Sebastian at the table and see him being more open and relaxed around his masters for once. Maybe it does have to be documented.

"It's not something like Arthur's games, I assume?" Isaac directs his gaze at MC, almost pleading under the surface for an affirmative response.

She rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. As much as she hates to disappoint him…

"Erm, it's basically a game of dares… but don't worry, you can always refuse a dare!"

"That's it, if you want to take the punishment, Newt." Arthur seems ready to dance on the physicist's nerves with a complimenting chin-cupping stance, elbows rested on the table and all. Theo rolls his eyes.

"Let me guess. Refuse a dare and drink a shot."

"That's correct." MC nods before Arthur can take more liberties at orchestrating her own game, even if they happen to be thinking in the same direction. "Let me go get what we need for the game!"

By the time Sebastian is back and patting his breast pocket suspiciously, so is MC, with a handful of… chopsticks. And a fountain pen.

"So, what I'm going to do now is write a number for each one of us… Vincent, Theo, Arthur, Isaac, Mozart, Dazai, Sebastian, Napoleon, and I…so that means numbers 1 to 8, and on the ninth chopstick, I'm going to write Ousama - which means 'King' - and then we shuffle the chopsticks in a cup - Arthur, can you pass me the empty cup next to you? - then we each take one but without showing our numbers to the others. Whoever gets the Ousama chopstick becomes King and he places a dare for someone, using the numbers! Is everything clear?"

"Uh. What kind of dares are allowed?"

Napoleon nods at the direction the question originates from. "Good point. Hey, maybe tone it down with the sexual stuff. There are taken people at the table."

Arthur snaps, "Why are you looking at me? I wasn't intending to. Besides, if a dare doesn't stand right with you, you can always drink and avoid it!"

Memories of other game nights seem to flood multiple minds at once, so MC lets out a half-chuckle half-sigh and moves on. She does take a mental note of the hint of possessiveness in Napoleon's comment just now who instantly got worried about another man being prompted to touch her inappropriately. As if anyone has the balls to touch Napoleon's woman, she thinks to herself… and kind of likes the way it sounds in her head.

It's a shame that Leonardo and Comte aren't joining them tonight and are instead enjoying a more sane way of getting alcohol in their system, in some quiet corner of the mansion. And Comte is totally not smoking a cigarillo right now while talking to his old friend, claiming that he hasn't had one in forever, again. And for that matter, Jean's presence is missed as well, but sadly (although understandably) he dislikes partaking in such activities. He's a lot like Mozart in this regard, with the difference that Mozart becomes another person when he drinks some. And that person loves joining drinking games with his buddies!

"If we're all ready - here we go!"

MC gives the cup a rather unnecessary bartender-style shake, assuring the chopsticks are well shuffled and ready to make it to all the wrong hands.

Once placed on the table, a crowd of hands quickly reach into the cup and sneakily withdraw in order to hide their new secret identity, with the exception of one person who has nothing to hide.

"I'm the king. My, I wasn't prepared for this."

As Sebastian holds up the chopstick of fate high in the air for all to see, a few pairs of surprised eyes catch his own. And something like a shimmer lights up in Sebastian's ones.

For someone as unprepared as him, he surely doesn't waste time on thinking about his next move. Not at all.

"Number 6, exchange a clothing item with number 1. Number 3, take off your pants without using your hands. And number 4 must do a handstand."

"By Jove, Sebas, your fetishes are showing!" Arthur blinks, both surprised and somehow entertained by the turn of events which (in his own head) kicks him off the position of number one most perverted person around the table. Or at least for the time being. He's only smiling now because he's safe, being the lucky number 7 and out of Sebastian's fantasies.

Isaac and Theo can't say the same. They exchange a look - eyes traveling up and down each other's frames - looking for a convenient clothing item to exchange, given their different builds. Theo is done with his choice first, and he reaches over the table to undo Isaac's necktie. The smaller man averts his gaze, turning his head away as much as he can so it's not in Theo's way, or perhaps out of embarrassment, but it's over before it ever began thanks to Theo's rough but effective methods of freeing the cloth from under his collar. Using the chance coming with the shortened distance, Isaac snatches Theo's scarf in return as the most adequate thing to take.

"Aw, you two are boring." Napoleon mocks for change, drumming his fingers on the table with a smirk. Theo muses with the thin black tie in his hands, turning to Napoleon with an empty look and silently wrapping it around his forehead instead, tying it off at the side.

"Is this better?"

"Snrk. I don't know, what do we think, Sebas?"

"I approve of your new look, Master Theodorus. Or should I drop the 'Master'? I'm the King now, after all."

MC gasps, "Sebas! Oh, this game is dangerous…"

"Tell me about it. My first dare and I already have to drink. Woe is me." Dazai weeps, rising up from his seat to point at his hakama, making it impossible for him to complete the take off your pants without hands dare.

"Guess that leaves me." Napoleon sighs, pushing his chair back audibly as he stands up.

"Ooh! Go for it, Naps!"

"Good thing it went to someone who's in good shape. I bet it's a piece of cake for him."

"We'll see now." Napoleon smirks to himself, rubbing his hands together as he prepares to tackle the handstand. His eyes get serious for a second as he calculates it all, and in the next moment, his hands are flat against the floor changing the center of his weight. While he's upside down, the gravity makes his partly untucked shirt expose his abs.

Someone whistles, and MC finds herself staring. As if for the first time.

All too soon, Napoleon is back on his feet again, dusting off his palms and retaking his seat by the table. Sebastian is beaming. "I like this game. Thank you for the idea, MC."

"Thank you, MC." Mozart chimes in, for some reason, oblivious to Sebastian making history tonight as opposed to quietly observing it from the side like usual.

"Haha, you guys are welcome… so, let's do it again, shall we? Let's see who will be King this time around~!"

After the new shuffle of chopsticks, everyone seems a little more lively, a little more hopeful - some driven by revenge and some simply by the contagious evil brewing in the air.

"Who is King?"

Out of the people looking at their newly acquired chopsticks, Napoleon is the one who speaks up.

"I guess that would be me."

"It's Napoleon, huh…"

"Oh, how fitting! You were born for it, Naps."

"Haha, not really."

"My bad. You're an emperor, not a king. I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."

Napoleon snorts, not playing along - or perhaps his dismissing the extended apology is his way of playing along. MC raises an eyebrow, studying his reaction. Napoleon's attitude towards these things is… rather complicated, as he seems to both loathe his so-called days of glory and simultaneously accept them for what they are, a part of him. She's been confused more than once about what's a good way of navigating through the situation when the topic is brought up in their conversations. On one hand, she hates the change of expression on his face that makes her feel like winter has returned - even if it's never going to feel to her like how it felt to him, the cruel winter - on the other, she knows he hates it when people walk on eggshells around him.

But now they're all at least half-drunk and merely goofing around. No one's bothered to care about these things, and maybe Napoleon prefers they don't anyway.

"Number 5, hold three ice cubes in your mouth until they melt. Number 4, confess about a fetish you have in front of everyone. Number 2, crack an egg over Number 7's head. Number 1, give me a massage."

"N-Napoleon is a sadist!!"

"So cruel…"

And he's laughing too. Sadistic tendencies aside, his laughter sounds every bit as genuine (and loud) as MC always remembers it to be, and it's strangely soothing. Maybe she should refuse a dare just for the shot, just to drown her worries a little more… Taking a look at her chopstick again because she thinks she heard her number, she sees a 1.

Theo goes somewhere, for ice presumably, despite Sebastian's offer to do it in his stead, and Arthur follows. "Wait, I'll go for the eggs."

"Who got the fetish one?" Napoleon browses the faces of the ones left at the table to spot the flushed one. Vincent raises a hand.

"My fetish is, um… I don't really-"

"Come on Vincent-kun, we all have fetishes~"

"I think I could say… maybe… um.."

"Yes? Go on, say it. We won't judge."

"I'd love it if my partner would touch themselves and let me watch."

"That's perfectly normal, Master Vincent. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Woah, it's both very vanilla and somehow kinky at the same time..." MC muses out loud. "Oh, but nothing to be ashamed of, certainly!"

Arthur and Theo return, with the latter immediately taking note of Vincent's beet-red face.

"What did I miss? Broer?"

"The fetish dare… Don't worry, Theo, I just had a shot instead."

"Oh, that's good. I mean, no it's not! Napoleon, how dare you make mjin broer take a punishment!"

"It wasn't really- Anyway, Theo, let's shut you up now."

Theo groans, dragging on every move as if giving the ice a chance to melt as much as possible before the inevitable contact with his mouth. At last, there's nowhere to escape and he pops the cubes in his mouth, thankfully they fit.

"Okay, I've been waiting for this. Who gets an egg in the head?"

"It's me… I hate this game…"

Isaac cards his fingers through his strawberry locks, as if for one last time while they're still egg-free. In the meantime, Theo's expression twists, less out of sympathy and more because the ice begins to torture him from the inside out.

"And the executioner?"

"Master Isaac, I'm truly sorry, it's me." Sebastian raises his gloved hand.

"Ahahaha! Haha!" Mozart laughs at the turn of events seeing a servant disserving his master. Or maybe the reason behind his laughter is nowhere that complex. One thing is certain, for some reason, he always gets out of the bunch's drinking games taking no damage in the form of nasty dares and punishments.

Sebastian stands up reluctantly, then sits down again. "Should I just drink? But I have to remind, I can't hold my liquor very well, I'm afraid."

"Just get it over with. I won't be mad at you or anything."

Sebastian sighs to show a little more reluctance before committing the deed. He looks like he's trying to miss his target, but unfortunately the raw egg still perfectly lands on Isaac's head, quickly descending down his face. Isaac's grossed-out expression mirrors Theo's current agony. As someone hands Isaac a handkerchief to wipe off the sticky mess with, another jokingly calls the sight erotic…

"Alright, I'm ready for my massage. Who shall serve the King?"

Napoleon relaxes back in his seat demonstratively in anticipation. It's a bold invitation, and everyone looks up to see the chosen one.

"My king."

MC stands up, showing her chopstick marked with the number 1. She tries to mute the sound of the others' reactions in her head as suddenly her pulse speeds up.

Napoleon flashes her a grin.

"Very well. The King is expecting you."

He lifts his glass to his lips as he hasn't touched it since the beginning of the game, probably deeming it worthless with the nature of the game. Not that he's expecting to be drinking anytime soon - he's simply not the type to back out from any dare unless it's too ridiculous even for him. Maybe that's why he started to miss the warmth at the back of his throat.

As MC makes her way to where he sits, she witnesses the singular bobbing of his Adam's apple when he gulps down the liquid, and she watches dumbstruck for a second as he motions for her to take a sip if she wants to, from the same glass. Well, yes, she finished her own drink a while ago. She accepts the glass from his hold.

"Now, what kind of massage should I request? Hmm…"

Arthur's dirty remarks fall on deaf ears as MC focuses on not choking on the liquid in her mouth.

Napoleon is a giver.

But there's something damn attractive when he allows himself to take from others.

"The king orders you to rub his shoulders."

And it's damn attractive when he's commanding like that. She sees now what the others were referring to in their provocations earlier - it rolls so, so easily off his tongue when he gives an order like this. Even if it's for a stupid game, the sharp look he gives her feels rather… real.

Not that this is anything new to her. For all Napoleon's gentleness, in the bedroom, he has this side of him that colors him rather dominant. And she'd be lying if she said she's gotten so used to it by now she doesn't feel anything between her legs right this moment. Instead of being a liar, she blames it on the alcohol.

Standing behind Napoleon, MC puts her hands on his broad shoulders… and really, it's been a while since she last gave him a massage. Usually, it's the other way around, as Napoleon added it to his ever-growing list of skills, even if initially it was something he'd never done before, given his status in his past life. Now she has his shoulders all to herself to knead and push at, and she catches herself putting selfishness in the act of service. Because she can't help but have impure thoughts.

Napoleon groans. It's quiet but she catches it over the cacophony of other noises in the room coming from the rowdy bunch. They're already setting things up for the next round, and here she's still stuck on her dare. She doesn't want to go back to her seat. Maybe Napoleon can read her thoughts like he always does and offer her his lap for the rest of the night; maybe he will go further and excuse the two of them for the night-

One hand at work, she reaches the other into the cup because they tell her to, and it appears to be Isaac's turn to be King. Good for him, but bad for everyone else. Seems like it's going to be a long night…

Later in the night and a few more rounds down the line, apples have been eaten without hands, glasses have been downed, a few mounts were the targets of unpleasant substances, either deadly spicy or deadly sweet, some clothes have been removed, some eyes filled with tears - and the collective level of soberness in the room has been drastically lowered.

It's a surprise how they even managed to put an end to it before the sun came out when naturally there's always someone who didn't get a chance to take revenge on someone else. Napoleon and Theo, being the best at holding their liquor as per usual, felt it their duty to help the others to their rooms.

MC didn't have much to drink, otherwise she'd be asleep on the pile of residents by now. Not that she intended to retain some of her soberness, it simply happened - because the bubbling feeling in her chest wasn't caused by alcohol, to begin with.

Napoleon, always the caretaker. Maybe if she throws herself at him he'll carry her to her room as well.

"Goodnight, Theo, go get some sleep." The sound of him returning after separating from Theo interrupts her daydreams.

Once he sees he's all alone with MC, he offers her a smile.

"And we're the last ones again. C'mon Nunuche, let's go to our room."

"Carry me?"

MC tries her best puppy-dog eyes at him, and he tests her for a second like it doesn't work on him. He then gawks at her laziness, hoisting her up his shoulder and giving her ass a little spank. "Let's get you to bed, naughty Nunuche. Some of those guys will be mad at you for weeks, you know? But you better not give them those eyes. Only I get to see them."

"Mm…Napoleon?"

The varnished floorboards creak under Napoleon's steps as he makes his way down the hall, holding MC's weight securely. "Yes?"

"Do you really enjoy it? You know, being treated like a majesty."

It's a short trip, and MC's perspective soon goes back to normal as the floor and the walls swap their places once more before her eyes. Not that she's interested in it, so she throws herself at the bed in the next second, sinking in the welcoming embrace of the comforter, not bothering with removing it at least for the time being.

"Pfft, where did that come from?" Napoleon says while closing the door behind him. The crickets are still singing their songs under their window, it can't be that late in the night.

"From the game. For a second I was worried it left a bad taste in your mouth."

"Hmm." Napoleon fake-muses, kicking off his shoes before sinking one knee on the bed. "I think I liked it when you were the one treating me like a majesty."

"No, don't joke, tell me seriously."

"I am serious though."

Somehow they end up in this position that doesn't help resolve the tension poisoning the air around them one bit; with him caging her with his body on the soft mattress and her having nowhere else to look at but right at his penetrating gaze. Her fingers twitch, nails catching into the fabric of the comforter, seeking a sense of stability.

"I just need to know in case…"

"In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips?"

Like a spark to the kerosene pooling low in her belly, Napoleon's words make beautiful explosions bloom behind her eyelids that have fallen shut amidst the last sentence. She takes a breath but it only feeds the fire as she can't help the way her exhale sounds raspy.

"Would you like that?"

"Would you?"

MC bites on her bottom lip. "This is not about me."

"I thought you wanted to serve your King."

She averts her gaze, because if she looks a little longer at this alluring jade gaze that reeks of sex, she'll be able to feel herself losing her composure, and she's trying to have a serious conversation here.

"I do."

"Hmm." Napoleon plays with her, trailing a hand down her modest home dress, prodding at the buttons at the front. "This is bad, I don't know what to ask for first. I've lost shape."

"Liar. You were perfect at it earlier."

"Someone's been paying attention. Were you also fucking me with your eyes? Right there, at the table?"

MC takes two sharp breaths, and it resembles panting, all too soon. It's out of irritation and not arouse, not yet. When she pictured their little game, she thought she'd just have to bow her head obediently and indulge in her desire to serve. Not enduring Napoleon's verbal teasing as any other night.

"Is it that bad? Will my King punish me now as he sees fit?"

Napoleon looks at her. For all the things that may be at the tip of his tongue, MC imagines most vividly the tone Napoleon would speak them in and how much he's cut for the role. Her soul sings at the thought, but it's nothing holy.

"Get up then. Don't you think it's a little rude to be lying down in my presence?"

That's fair. With renewed vigor, she pushes herself off the bed and waits readily by the side of it.

"Remember to not look me in the eyes. It's forbidden. You'll only look when I allow you to, if I allow you to. You'll have to earn my grace."

Instinctively, MC wants her nod to be accompanied by eye contact, but she corrects her mistake before it can even take place.

"Present yourself. Take it all off."

MC blinks surprisedly at how fast things are happening but isn't against it at all. She has the feeling that he is capable of making her do all sorts of dirty things with a mere flick of his tongue, undressing for him is nothing.

She makes a show of it, despite not having many articles of clothing on her to take off seductively - before long, she's stepping out of her dress that has pooled at her feet, and she retakes her previous position.

"I'm pleased with what I'm seeing. Come closer. Kiss me."

He doesn't have to ask twice. It's something familiar and yearned for since they crossed the threshold of their room—hell, no, since they took a seat at the table for that game. It's welcoming and fulfilling and it's just what she needed-

Or so she thought, until she terribly embarrassed herself with a rather awkward and rigid pressing of lips against lips, and no movement. In her selfishness, and out of habit, she left her mouth open for Napoleon's invasion. But she's forgetting to consider that kings get tired of their conquests too.

She summons her boldness and turns the desire in her veins into fuel for action. She shoves her tongue in Napoleon's mouth, but gently, not with the intention to dominate, but rather to serve. To kiss him until he gets enough. Her tongue swirls against his own, the movement rather clumsy, the making out of a juvenile rather than that of a skillful lover… but it's what he wants. He wants to see her seduce him, use every millimeter of her body for his pleasure, and keep going until he has his fill.

A thin string of saliva connects their lips upon her withdrawal, and her eyes are shut tight. She has to keep them shut, otherwise she'll look right at him. Napoleon chuckles.

"You may open them."

She does, and the sight is not kind on her fragile composure. Locking eyes with Napoleon has never felt like this, like a privilege, and exploring this new feeling is exciting.

"You're not half bad with your mouth. Undress me and put it to use."

Heartbeat thumping in her ears, MC finds it impossible to conduct herself in that moment; to sturdy her hands into performing the task and to break her gaze from his piercing pools of jade. She starts with the shirt, more tugging at the buttons rather than precisely undoing them, before pushing it completely off his shoulders, and finally letting it fall to the floor. He's glorious with just his trousers on and that scrutinizing, almost cold gaze. She opens the fly enough to take his hardness out, and her stomach tightens instinctively.

She wets her lips and parts them, taking in the head of his cock, letting it rest on her tongue. Even when her world narrows down to the hot pulsing flesh in her mouth, she catches herself dividing her focus between pleasuring her lover and.. the position she's doing this in. There's a little bit of getting used to it being required, and it makes her realize how unfamiliar that is - her being on her knees, on the hardwood floor, and Napoleon standing upright. When was the last time they've found themselves in that exact arrangement? It could've happened once or twice before, in the heat of the moment, or when the space had limited them. But never intentionally. Not because MC has anything against it - rather, it would be Napoleon who changes the position whether he's about to receive oral. He makes sure he's at least sitting down at the edge of the bed, where MC can rest her hands on his hips, or on the bed. Where he can see her better, to check up on her. Now she has to look up to see him, and he seems so far away, or maybe her eyes are doing tricks on her, or maybe her vision is blurring because she accidentally took his cock too deep down her throat and now tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Napoleon brings his hand over her head and collects a fistful of her hair, one unfamiliar thing after another - but before intimidation can mix into her blood, she breathes in deeply, because it's not him forcing her down his cock, it's him forcing her off it.

He holds his cock firmly by the base as he directs it at her parted lips again, but doesn't breach the gap between them. He simply rubs his cockhead on the soft cushion of them, gathering the saliva that starts to droll down and smearing it back on her lips.

"A pretty mouth indeed."

MC can only look at him. She looks at him like she's looking straight at an open flame.

"Next," Napoleon begins, cupping her chin and caressing with his thumb where his cock used to be just a second ago. "I want you to go on the bed and show me the position you want to be taken in. Can you do that for your King?"

MC finally averts her gaze; it happens involuntarily, purely as a reaction to another surge of surprise and embarrassment.

"I— Yes, my King."

Napoleon angles her chin up, a signal for her to rise to her feet. Yes, that would be a good start.

The bed is just two steps away from where she is but MC feels like she can trip thrice on the way there with how much her legs have turned to jelly. Still, she makes it. There's not much room for thinking this through, for deciding on what would work out best for both of them - normally it's him who takes these decisions, anyway - so once she leans forward on the bed, she gives way to impulsivity and the way it saves her from having to give it any more thought. If she has to name the reason, it would be that it aligns with everything that Napoleon is tonight. Of course it would be fitting if he were to take her on her hands and knees.

"Does this… please you?"

She hears the rustling of clothes behind her back, probably the sound of Napoleon getting rid of his trousers, before he approaches her. He doesn't say anything about approving the position or not, and MC can't decide if his silence is worse. He comes to stand right behind her, and she crawls a little closer to the edge of the bed to make sure their skin is touching. Napoleon lets one hand roam from the fold of her knee up to the curve of her butt, and MC jumps lightly at the touch. Needless to say, she's sensitive and oh-so neglected. Her insides throb at the mere proximity of Napoleon's slender fingers close to her sex - it's a miracle she doesn't come undone on the spot as he actually directs his touch to the apex of her thighs. Wetness catches on his fingertips and he wastes little time caressing her folds before plunging two fingers inside.

"Nnghhh…" MC tosses her head, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of finally, finally claiming some pleasure but without losing herself completely in it. Napoleon twists his fingers until his open palm is facing upwards, thrusts in and out a few times in a way that doesn't intend to bring pleasure but rather to prepare - and then his fingers audibly and briskly exit her wetness.

MC whines at the loss of his fingers but finds a new fire sparkled to life inside her, and she's more than happy she wouldn't have to wait any longer for the next dose of intoxicating pleasure.

"Good girl. Do you want my cock?" Napoleon asks, openly and greedy. He's not risking having her beat around the bush by posing a more generic question like what she wants next. They both know the answer to that already.

Not that he spares her the torturous reminder of what she'll get by saying the right thing. He rubs his flushed tip on her glistening folds, pressing it in enough to just barely catch on her entrance; to make her bite her tongue and assume he just might show mercy and put it in without her pleading for it.

"I- Yes, please, Napoleon— take me, fuck me! Please…"

She only realizes once it slips out that she used his name and not the object of their little game of pretend that is his title, but there's no going back.

Napoleon doesn't punish her for it. Instead, he rewards her, giving her what she wants most. The groan he lets out as the familiar warmth and tightness enfolds his aching cock is telling of his own desperation.

MC cries out at the intrusion, only now understanding the difference of not having him finger her for longer prior to this. It doesn't hurt - she just feels a little fuller somehow. A little on edge. He gives her time to adjust, however, and she just basks into this dangerous feeling for as long as it's there until he carefully withdraws only to give it another thrust.

"Ahh!" Her insides squeeze around Napoleon again, as he goes in deeper this time. She blames the position, trying to reason out why she feels him in her guts. Napoleon withdraws again, and then pushes in, trying to fit even more of himself inside.

"You're taking me so well. I'm so deep inside you, I bet you can feel me in your deepest parts."

She groans at his words and their truthfulness as his thrusts grow rhythmic, the place where they're connected burning with the delightful friction, and her arms soon give out. She buries her head between her hands, enduring the change of angle as her rear sticks out, and Napoleon keeps pounding at her. His own sounds of pleasure are barely masked by the sounds of skin on skin, but he's not hiding them either. He lets her know how good she's making him feel, telling her something dirty in a low voice that she can barely register over the drumming in her ears.

"You feel so good- merde- Ngh. I want to stay inside you forever."

He's always holding her tightly when he fucks her, his grip being strong enough to leave marks the following day, but there's something about the way he takes hold of her hips now. At first, MC thinks nothing of it, lost in euphoric pleasure. It's only when she feels her knees being lifted off the bed that she understands what's happening.

Napoleon rises up her bottom to meet his hips, in his standing upright position, taking full control of her body in that moment. He's so strong, making it all seem effortless; and it's not a matter of matching his thrusts anymore - she can't do anything. She's facing away, with one pair of limbs immobilized and the other grasping uselessly for purchase at the covers. Her whole body rocks back and forth, feeling like a ragdoll in Napoleon's arms. There's something primal and simultaneously embarrassing about how good it feels to give herself over to him like that; about the trust she puts in him to have her completely at his mercy.

And then Napoleon stills inside her. And he groans. And before she knows it, a warm spray of come hits her walls. Her eyes widen, only now realizing they've already been going at it for a while, for a while enough that he seemingly couldn't hold back and—

And maybe he just didn't feel like waiting for her to come before he does.

The realization makes her dizzy in an unexplainable way, and she moans so loudly she feels herself pathetically falling into that bottomless fit, just like that, just as Napoleon takes his cock out of her. It's petrifying, coming without him inside her, but strangely the pleasure never ceases. His hand finds his way between her quivering thighs and shoves them apart in a quick manner, beginning to rub at her clit; whispering praises against the skin of her nape, enveloping her smaller body with his own from behind as she presses into the bed so violently, chasing after her peak.

"Come for me. Come for me and scream my name."

And that's enough to tip her over the edge. Coming with Napoleon's load inside her intensifies the feeling; the way her insides are still remembering his shape, the way she's so full yet so empty. It makes her see stars.

"Napoleon— Ahhhhh!!"

"I'm here. I'm here, mon amour."

Napoleon holds her trembling form as he draws out the last of her high, gently moving her into a spooning position. He keeps touching her everywhere, her belly, her breasts, the curve of her shoulder, caressing all the spots that went unloved in their game.

"I felt— so good I thought I might die—"

Napoleon huffs out a breathy chuckle, and it tickles the babyhairs at the base of her neck.

"I'd be lying if I said this doesn't stroke my ego, Nunuche.", he whispers, and it's somehow more shiver-inducing than anything he's said that night. "I think you might be right. I might be enjoying myself a bit too much when I'm calling the shots."

MC turns her neck just enough to look at him from the corner of her eye. She studies him again, with his disheveled hair and boyish smile and his low tolerance of putting up a front now that he gave voice to his most basic instinct and let it rob him of the ability to give anything more thought than he needs to. She leans in for a kiss and he takes the initiative enthusiastically but ends up drawing it out to make the remaining endorphins dance slowly between their bodies.

Letting the tiredness in her limbs settle in just like the fact that the room is several shades a brighter blue than how they entered it, MC only nuzzles back onto Napoleon's chest, trying not to give voice to the heat between her legs beginning to awake again without a sense of the time.

"And I might just love to see you like that. Mon empereur."

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