#I had a whole very smutty part planned for the very end here but instead there is just a teaser for it

[sabraeal]

Just a Second Away from Being In Love (Or Alone)

[Read on AO3]

Written for @another-miracle, who asked for any Obi POV in Wide Florida Bay-- but hopefully an obiyuki one 🤣. It actually took me a while to circle in on which one to pick; there's a few that I had my eye on earlier in the timeline, but when it came to obiyuki bits...I knew it had to be this one, which starts off a small mini-arc in the established relationship part of this fic!

It takes him two hours and two pounds of eggplant, but after five minutes of this newest crisis of morale, Obi finally gives in: he going have to use his Phone A Friend for this one. Or at least someone friendly. Ish.

“Tell me this is gonna be worth it,” he huffs, contorted into nature’s worst pretzel shape; his newest attempt to locate anything that could pass for another pie plate in this place. No way Doc’s lived here for three years without putting at least five of the most grandma-worthy vessels for piping-hot fruit somewhere in the cabinets. “Tell me this is gonna be the best thing I’ve put in my mouth my whole life. A fucking paradigm shift when it comes to food.”

“It’s eggplant parmesan. You’re gonna wish it was chicken.” Kelly Ann clucks her tongue, and god, she can be a thousand miles away, but he knows she’s got a knee balanced up on her desk, head tipped back because her eyes can’t roll far enough. “But you just spend half an afternoon drying the most finicky vegetable known to man, so you can’t turn back now. You’re committed.”

That’s the sort of talk that would have given him a life-threatening case of the hives years ago, limping around Atlanta’s unforgiving streets looking for an Urgent Care more quickly than taking a jab to the gut. But now he just asks, “But she’ll like it though, right?”

Kelly Ann sighs, already sick of him. “Yes. The poor innocent you’ve tricked into thinking you’re boyfriend material will think it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten. Even Cal’s officer buddies eat it, and they’re more picky than the four-year-old.”

“I dunno,” he hums, hand-pulverized breadcrumb scattering over sea foam ceramic. “She cooks really good. Have I told you about the Cornish hens? They—”

“I have heard all about the Cornish hens. I am sick of hearing about the Cornish hens.” Obi’s mouth twitches. Gotta be hard for her, having to share the pedestal for Gayle’s Favorite Child. At least with someone who isn’t her own kid. “What kind of guarantees are you look for here? That it’s going to get you laid? It will definitely get you laid.”

“Kelly Ann.” If his hands weren’t covered in egg, he’d be pressing one to his chest, scandalized. “I wasn’t— I’m not doing this for sex.”

She snorts. Which, frankly, he’s earned. But he’s turned over a new leaf. Become a new, better man. One who knows that the most important part of a relationship isn’t what happens between the sheets.

But it certainly helps hedge your bets, especially when you’re as much of a fuck up as he is. Hell, if sex was an option, he wouldn’t be here, debating which hand he’d used for the wet ingredients and which was for the dry. Oh no, he would have been far too busy making her see shrimp colors to worry about whether eggplants stayed crispier fried or baked. But since he’d had fallen for her absolutely genius— though, as Yuzuri warned, biologically inadvisable— beach-dinner-sex seduction strategy, Doc’s on the bench for the next quarter, sexy-time wise, and he’s—

Well, he’s got to show her he’s got talents out of the bedroom too. Or, er, off the couch. And shower. Sometimes even—

Ah, well, non-flat surface based talents. Cooking’s supposed to be one of them.

At least, it would be, if his eggplant slices weren’t eating floor. “How are you supposed to even get these slippery bastards over to the tray? They just keep— fuck.”

“Just go slow,” Kelly Ann informs him with an aggravating amount of patience. “It’s not a race.”

“I am going slow,” he snaps, gingerly transferring his next slice to the rack. “There is no possible way I could be going slower. I’m going to be here for days just doing this. Years from now, archaeologists will find my body and wonder why I’m only halfway through—”

“If there was an Olympic event for complaining, you’d take gold five years running.” She can tease him as much as she like, but there’s no bite to it anymore, no sharp teeth waiting to take a nibble. No, he’s pretty sure that the stretch on her vowels means she’s smirking; the closest thing to a smile when she’s aimed in his direction. “Maybe you should be doing this for sex, it sounds like you might need—”

“You keep this up and I’ll ask Gayle when you’re thinking you’ll have round two.” His mouth is all teeth as he adds, “After all, Laila would make such a cute big sister.”

He can’t see her, but he can hear her seething on the other end of the line. “I know where you live.”

“It’s a fourteen hour drive at best and I’ve got Mom on speed dial.”

Her scowl radiates from the speaker. “Fine,” she grits out. “Guess I’ll just have to tell her we’re waiting until number two could have a playmate.”

Obi blinks down at her picture. “Huh, Toddy’s found some girl? That’s fast. He was single at—”

“I’m not talking about Toddy.”

There’s enough silence in the kitchen to make his ears ring. “…What?”

“Oh, come on, Obi,” Kelly Ann sighs, as if he’s the one being obtuse. “The only people you two were fooling at Christmas were yourselves. And now you’re spending a whole day pampering eggplant to impress her?”

“I had a day off,” he murmurs, knees suddenly as solid as his egg dredge. “And I don’t think battering and frying count as a spa day.”

Kelly Ann grunt, unconvinced. “Sure, sure, we can sit here and have you deflect all day. But when it comes down to it…you’re serious about her aren’t you?”

As a heart attack. Which would be fine, if they weren’t barely two months in to the longest relationship of his life. “I think it’s a little soon to say that, uh…”

“That you love her?” His heart beats so loud in his ears he can hardly hear her ask, “You do, don’t you? Love her?”

“Yeah.” It’s a miracle he can even speak with his mouth this dry. “Of course I do.”

“Have you said that? With your Big Boy words?”

He has to press his hands against the counter to keep them from shaking. A strategy that would go better if both of them weren’t covered in egg gunk.

“Ah, gotta go,” he gasps, already reaching for a towel. “Making a real mess of all this.”

“Obi—”

The first finger clean shoots out, cutting off the call.

“There,” he sighs. “That’s enough of that existential crisis.”

*

The eggplant’s fresh out of the oven and sauce just off the heat when the door opens with a shush, his own personal problem stumbling out into the living room, trying to toe her sandals into the tray. If he weren’t elbow deep with this casserole dish, he’d saunter out to appreciate her attempts; there’s a lot on TV nowadays, but none of it can compete with Doc nearly giving herself a concussion trying to unlatch one of those little buckles. TLC used to say you learned something new every day, and listening to her grumble approach swears without ever intersecting, Obi agrees.

“Oh, really.” Most people might be happy just to hurl abuse at inanimate objects, but not Doc. Oh no, she’s got to reason with them.  “This sort of…of…tomfoolery is very…rude. I think you should just…stop…if you would…”

He waits until the first tell-tale clatter and clunk, to call out, “Welcome home.”

“Obi!” she yelps, and oh, he might not be able to see it, but he knows that shocked look: mouth as round as her eyes, skin flushed down to where it meets the swoop of her collar. Extremely kissable, is what he’s saying. “You’re here?”

A tap of the sauce spool sends a chunk of it skittering across the stove, but he grins anyway. “Am I not supposed to be? Did you have plans? Maybe even naughty—?”

“No!” It’s more of a croak than a gasp. “No, I mean…you’re supposed to be here. I’m happy your here. You” —her voice drops, soft, like her pillows— “belong here.”

He thought he’d known all the ways a heart could ache these past few years, but when she talks like that, ah, he’d never thought it could feel this good. Or this terrifying. “You’re not denying the naughty plans thing.”

And she still doesn’t, going so quiet a guy might get suspicious, if he didn’t know— keenly— that she was still in the shop. Taking her nice places and making delicious, boyfriend-worthy dinners has been great; a bigger rush than sex in a bathroom stall. But still, when most of their nights involve staying in, settling into the couch the way they always did, just with the new, heady knowledge that they both are wanting the same things…

Well, there’s been a few inadvisable make out sessions. Exciting ones, the kind that involve hands going under shirts and down pants and wearing hoodies in eighty degree weather the next day. But every time they wandered beneath her shorts— or, more than a few personally exhilarating times, skirts— the mood swerved off the rails, ending things before they— or well, she could get anywhere. After a three-year dry spell, Obi thought a few weeks would be a breeze, a quick breather between rounds, but after a month of having her moan his name at just the simplest touch—

It’s a special kind of torture, he thinks as the other shoe drops. Especially when Doc’s never been one to behave.

“You are home early.” Doc doesn’t often get the jump on him— in shitty childhood vs playful girlfriend, there’s a clear winner every time— but this time, when her sweet voice pipes up from his elbow rather than the galley window, he does. “And cooking dinner?”

“Yeah, I, ah…” She’s always been a curious little squirrel, skittering hither and yon, but when she leans around him to catch a peek of his hard work, her breasts brush against his arm, and, well— like he said. It’s been a long time. “Haah…just needed to let some data compile for a diagram. Thought it might do better on my laptop on our internet.”

He should be playing Tetris with these eggplant pieces right now, but Doc doesn’t make it easy, not with the way she tucks herself against him, her front pressed to his side, a burning line from shoulder to hip. “Are those eggplant?”

One small hand traces a path across his belly, just below his navel, and— and Obi can read a room. Really he can. It’s just not possible that she’s putting down what he’s picking up. “Y-yeah.” He clears his throat, willing it back into an actual, grown adult’s register. “I, uh, got the recipe from Kelly Ann. She…”

Her wrist twists, just enough to dip the tip of her finger beneath his waistband, and oh god, okay, he can’t take it. “Can we talk?” he asks, desperate, one hand gripped around her wrist. “Just for a second here. Because I…I need some clarification, I think.”

Doc flusters, every visible inch of her skin red as she tries to slip from his grasp. Which is absolutely not happening, not if she’s barking up the tree he thinks she is. “S-sorry! I just…I thought…”

One tug sends her careening back into him, every inch of her pressed against every inch of him. Or well, most of them. He's got ten or so that don't quite match up “I’m not complaining about the thinking here. I’m confused about the doing, because I thought we weren’t supposed to, er…”

Do the doing isn’t really where he wants to take this sentence. “I thought,” he starts again, a shade more collected, “that you were in the shop.”

“No.” Her cheeks flush so pink he’s half tempted to bite them, just to see what she’d taste like against his tongue. “I-I mean, I was. But I went to my doctor today, and um…?”

Every muscle in his body stiffens, tense like a cat ready to pounce. “And…?”

Doc might be bold enough to throw herself out windows and into swamps full of at least three of his most deadly fears, but at the twitch of his dick against her hip, her eyes skitter back toward the counter. “A-are you at a good place to stop?”

The eggplant’s going to get floppy in the sauce, and none of it will be as good as it would be if he finished getting this in the oven now, but he can hardly care, not when she lets out a delicious little gasp as she bumps into the counter.

“What exactly did the doc clear you for?” he rumbles, leaning in to give her parted lips the barest brush. “This?”

Her fingers clench at his shoulders, as frustrated as the moan that slips from her throat. “Obi…”

There’s a warning in that, a promise for what will wait for him if he keeps up his teasing, and it only makes his next taste all the sweeter.

“This?” It’s a whisper against her lips, one lost when she swallows it whole. Those fingers yank him down, trapping him in this endless drag of lips and tongue, each one teasing out another moan, another shiver, until he’s nearly drunk from it.

One of his palms scrapes up her side; the silky material of her dress catches on his calluses before he dips beneath it, her nipple already pebbled against his palm. “This?”

His mouth drops to catch it, and oh, if he thought she’d been close before, there’s nothing but cloth between them now, her body arched to fill the curve of his. “Obi!”

She’s trembling in his grip, only the arm at her back keeping her upright, and oh, it’s nothing to trace his fingers up her thigh, to trace the edge of her panties. “This?”

His only answer is a whimper and the bite of nails at his shoulder. It’s enough; he shoves them to the side, the small hairs there tickling his palms. And when the tip of his finger slips between her folds—

“Jesus. Fuck.” His forehead rests against her shoulder. “You’re…?”

Wet. Soaked. His mouth is too dry to get out the words. He doesn’t need to, not when she nods, wiggling against his hand. “Uh-huh.”

“Hah.” He licks his lips, hoping she can’t feel how he trembles now, every part of him drawn as tight as a bowstring. “How about this?”

His fingers dip inside, two sinking straight to the last knuckle. God, he nearly cums right there, from the noise she makes. “Is this what the doc cleared you for, Shirayuki?”

She whines, a pathetic, frustrated sound. One he’d be happy to tease out of her again, if she didn’t reach down and pump his fingers into her again, like he might need the help.

“Haah,” he breathes, hard. “Yeah, I think I can help with that.”

By the way she’s moving, it won’t be enough. Not nearly enough for either of them, not with his cock straining his jeans, soaking them where it’s trapped up against the band. He grinds against her hip, trying to get some relief, pulling her even tighter against him as his fingers work, and—

“Obi,” she gasps, pushing his shoulders away. “We eat on these counters.”

He’d argue that, if they weren’t already sharing space with dinner. Instead he leans in, giving her one, long kiss as he drags his fingers out of her. “Your room or mine?”

“Whichever,” she sighs, hopping up into his arms, “is closer.”

[yourmidnightlover]

truth or dare... don't lie

pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: during a game of truth or dare, a secret about reader is revealed that xavier offers to help her out with.

warnings: SMUT LMAO, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (F receiving), virgin!reader, kinda soft sex tbh, reader loses her v-card bc i'm projecting, kent, bianca, and yoko are kinda mean in this i'm not gonna lie, theres a bit of angst at first but then it gets really smutty and comforting

a/n: THIS IS NOT EDITED! i AM working on a part two to my series, but i have finals this week and can't focus enough to develop the plot how i planned so you're getting this instead to tide you over... wooo! enjoy horn-dogs :)

"it's your turn, y/n!" bianca started giggling as she took another sip of whatever alcoholic mixture she decided to deliver this time.

somehow you, enid, wednesday, ajax, xavier, bianca, kent, and yoko were playing a skewed version of truth or dare in xaviers single room. basically, it was the same premise of you choose a truth or a dare, but if you didn't complete the task or answer the truth then you had to strip. so... strip truth or dare.

it's not like anyone really cared, it was a week before winter break, and everyone had already finished their exams for the semester. luckily you were even able to have thing sneak into the teachers' lounge and bag some extra goodies, which was mostly only alcohol and little debbie snacks.

"what'll it be, y/l/n?" bianca continued to ask you. "truth or dare... or strip?"

you see, there was one MORE issue at hand...

you were down to your dress.

having already taken off your jacket, socks, and even your necklace, you were desperate to remain in the game with your integrity intact, although you were sure most of them wouldn't remember a thing because they had drank so much. except for wednesday, something about making sure enid got back to the dorm safely... blah blah blah.

well, and xavier, but you weren't sure why he wasn't drinking much on his end. maybe he was simply uncomfortable with it, or wanted to be the designated walk-er, helping everyone to their respective dorms. that's part of why you like him so much. he's so sweet and thoughtful, even when people choose to inebriate themselves beyond belief with alcohol. it wouldn't happen, and you know that. but a little schoolgirl crush never hurt anyone, right?

regardless, you needed something easy, so you remained covered and not embarrassed, "truth."

"boring!" enid rang out, hands cupping around her mouth to symbolize a megaphone.

"she is down to just her dress and whatever is underneath," wednesday pointed out with a nod. you turned to see xavier simply looking down at his phone, more than uninterested in the game.

"fine," you sighed. "i choose dare," you said smugly, noticing xaviers eyebrows raise as he made eye contact with you before you abruptly looked the other direction.

"there we go!" bianca clapped as the others cheered with her. "that's what i'm talking about y/n," she put her finger to her chin as if she were in deep thought with a quiet 'hmmm,' "i dare you to sit in xavier's lap for the rest of the game!"

"really?" your surprise was practically impossible to hide. "i don't think he'd be very comfortable with that, b."

"i'm cool with it if you are, y/n/n," he gave you a smile, one that you didn't recognize. it wasn't his 'i'm proud of you smile' or his 'you fucked up again' smile, no. this was a new one. this one seemed darker. mysterious. enticing.

you liked it.

"i-i'm cool with it," and with that, you got up and walked in his direction.

he had been sitting at his desk the whole time, in his comfy little chair. he pat his lap three times before you rolled your eyes at him and sat down on his lap, facing the same way as him. you tried not to put much weight on him, so you opted to sit on the very edge of his knees and let your tiptoes hold most of your weight.

"okay that can't be comfortable," xavier pointed out. "here," he carefully lifted you just enough to maneuver you over his lap, now sideways with your back against one armrest and your feet dangling over the other. "better?"

"mhmm, thanks," you smiled as you clasped your hands in your lap, one of xavier's arms still wrapped around your waist comfortably. it felt nice, like it belonged there.

from there on the game got a bit more... risqué. now there were kisses dared on cheeks, first time stories being drawn out, and so much more.

"xavier," ajax pointed at him, slurring his words with a big grin decorating his face. "truth or dare!"

"hmm..." he acted deep in thought. "dare."

"i dare you..." he clearly hadn't thought that far in advance, which is when enid leaned over and whispered something you couldn't make out to him. "oh that's good!," ajax whisper yelled, not being able to properly sense his own volume. "i dare you, xavier, to kiss y/n on the neck until your next turn!"

you turned to face him, your lips pressed into a thin line, praying that he couldn't see the rosy red blush that was surely adorning your cheeks by now.

"are you okay with that?" he asked, whispering in your ear so the others couldn't hear. once he got your quiet, but detectable 'mhmm,' he accepted the dare. "alright," with that, he got to work.

he pressed a feather-light kiss to your neck at first, and you thought you would be fine if this is what he would be doing the entire time. that was, until he began to press slightly open-mouthed kisses to your neck, occasionally gently nipping the area before soothing over it with his tongue.

there was no doubt in your mind that he could tell your heartbeat was racing. between feeling his hair brushing on the sensitive skin, and his tongue soothing his love-bites, you were about to explode. your hips were practically moving on their own at this point, trying to get whatever friction you could.

"hey," you felt xavier's hands grab your hips firmly. "if you don't stop moving your hips like that there's gonna be a mess between us that i really don't wanna clean up."

"what do you-" he shifted your hips up a bit more, hitting something a bit harder than his thighs were. "oh-is-is that...?"

"yea," he got closer to your ear, beginning to suck on the lobe and continuing his ministrations.

"in the school bathroom!" bianca rang out, laughing at whatever story kent was telling this time.

"i think it's y/n's turn again," kent diverted everyone's attention to you, so you tried to ignore xavier sucking on your neck like a leech, albeit a really hot one, to get through this.

"oh, and it's my turn," yoko cheered. "truth or dare, y/n?"

you really didn't think you'd be able to survive whatever dare they would throw your way, not in the slightest, which is why you chose: "truth."

"alright," yoko looked towards bianca and kent before asking, "what was your first time like?"

ajax might as well have ripped his beenie off then and there because you froze. you hadn't done it. you haven't gotten past giving a guy a handjob, let alone sex.

you didn't know how long you were quiet for, but you did notice when xavier stopped his kissing. you could practically feel his stare right on your face. you wanted it to go away. you wanted to disappear. it was humiliating, really. at least you thought it was until...

"you haven't, have you?" kent chuckled as bianca stifled a laugh.

"are you serious?" yoko asked incredulously. "well, i guess it makes sense to me," she shrugged as you tore yourself off of xavier's body, having to pry his hand away from your waist.

"hey," he held onto your hand softly and looked at you with what you thought to be puppy-dog eyes, you didn't have the best view due to the tears blocking your eyes.

"just..." you sighed as you took your hand out of his and ran out of his room, dorm, and the building as a whole. you just wanted to walk around, feel comfortable. then it hit you that there was always one place where you felt comfortable.

after around 15 minutes of walking around to clear your head, you got to xavier's paint shed. you had gone there nearly every time you needed help with homework, needed some advice, or if you simply missed him. it's amazing that even though he wasn't there, you could still smell his presence, the mahogany and woods scent that felt like home to you now.

you had made several forts in the place before, having secret sleepovers with each other countless times just because you wanted to. so, you brought out the mattress that was set up against the wall, put the fitted sheet on it and set up the bed as usual before plopping down on it.

you didn't even want to cry anymore. you just wanted to disappear. you felt like such a loser. i mean, why is that such a big deal anyway? it's just sex. but then again, if it's 'just sex' then why haven't you just done it?

"y/n/n?" xaviers voice called out as he knocked on the door of the shed. "look, i know you're in there. just wanted you to know that i kicked everyone out, okay?" you stayed quiet. "y/n," he sighed. "you know that just because you haven't... yknow, doesn't mean anything right? what yoko was saying... she doesn't make sense. because anyone would be so lucky to have you. you're unbelievably kind, and generous, witty, hilarious... and beautiful. you're beautiful, y/n. please just let me in? i wanna talk to your face, not some door."

you sniffled with a laugh, "it's been unlocked the whole time, idiot."

"hey, now," he called as he walked through the door, ducking down a little as to not hit his head on the low hanging fixtures. "why'd you run like that?" he as beside you on the bed, placing your long-forgotten items of clothing on one of the tables.

"why wouldn't i?" you turned the question on him. "i was humiliated," you began to pick at your nails. "i mean, you saw what happened. i was already flustered because you were kissing my neck and then i felt your boner because i couldn't just sit fucking still, which was embarrassing enough, but then the guy i like finds out i'm a virgin too! it was just too much. and then they were laughing at me and.... yea," you took a deep breath once you were done rambling.

"the guy you like?"

"you can't tell me you still don't know," you rolled your eyes once more before xavier grabbed onto your hands to stop you from picking at them like he normally does. "you. you know. it's you."

he didn't even say anything. it wasn't until you mustered up the courage to look at him that you saw a smile gracing his face.

"then you should know why ajax and enid dared me to do that to you in the first place," xavier scooted closer to you on the bed. placing one of his hands on your thigh. "i told them a couple weeks ago that i was starting to really, really like you-as more than friends. they went crazy, telling me you felt the same and everything, but i couldn't believe it. i mean, you're just... you're everything, y'know?

"i meant everything i said when i was outside. you're so sweet, and smart, and god, it takes everything in me not to kiss you when you look at me. because when you look at me, you really see me," xavier finished.

"kiss me," you told him in a soft tone.

"what?" his brows furrowed before you, with a shocking wave of confidence, swung one leg over his lap, now facing him and straddling his lap. his hands went to your waist

"i said kiss me," you leaned in closer to him. "please."

it didn't take anything else for him to bring one hand up to cup your face before finally connecting your lips. it wasn't like fireworks went off, or cannons bursted. it was more like a sense of belonging, welcomeness, and home. your lips had been craving him for so long, it was a sweet, cold treat in the summer as your tongues began to glide with one another.

once again, your hips couldn't contain themselves as they began to rock back and forth on his lap, this time successfully getting the desired friction exactly where you wanted it. you sighed into his mouth, your hands dragging through his hair as he began to nurse the same neck he was kissing nearly 45 minutes ago.

"i thought that would be the only time i'd have you to myself," xavier droned on. "i might've gone a bit overboard..." he laughed as he traced circles on your neck.

"what...?" you backed away from him before he picked up his phone, showing you with the selfie side of the camera how he had littered your neck with deep hickeys. "xavier!" you playfully shoved his shoulder.

"you better get used to it," he shrugged with a sly grin. "i can be territorial at times."

"god, as if you couldn't get any hotter," you began to peel off your dress, reaching for the hem before xavier swatted your hands away.

"let me," he ordered, you listened immediately, retracting your hands and placing them on his shoulders as he helped you rid yourself of your dress. "i don't even understand why you wore this since it's freezing outside."

"hmm," you mockingly acted like you were thinking. "well, when the guy i like is going to be in a place with booze, there might be certain possibilities and i wanted to look nice."

"you look better than nice," he pressed your lips together once more. "i was hard long before you even sat on my lap, y/n/n."

"please fuck me?" your voice was soft and whiny. "please? i want you, i just need you to-to y'know... please, xay?"

"you sound so pretty when you beg for me," he let his hand trace your neck before he buried his hand in your hair, gently tugging it back before admiring you in your nearly naked state.

"xay, please?" you were holding onto the hem of his t-shirt, nearly stretching it out with your begging.

"okay, love," he chuckled before swiftly tossing his shirt over his head, letting it land somewhere he wasn't concerned with. "now we're a bit more even, yea?"

"i just... i need you..." you were a squirming mess in his lap, to think an hour and a half ago you were pleading with yourself to keep your dignity and now you were begging for xavier...

"what do you need from me?" he teased, letting one of his hands trail down your front, hovering over your center. "i need to hear you say it for me. tell me."

"i need you," you sighed as you buried your head in his neck. "i need you to make me... make me cum?"

he chuckled maniacally, "is that a question? i thought i told you to tell me what you want?"

"please just make me cum xavier!" your frustration showed as you began to lazily press kisses to his neck. "please?"

he swiftly turned over so you were laying on the pillow at the top of the bed, him hovering over you with his hair falling to your face. he began pressing kisses down your body, gently squeezing your breasts and sucking on your nipples. eventually, after a few minutes of teasing, he reached your center. he moved your panties down your legs and began pressing kisses to your thighs, alternating between each one.

"has anyone ever done this for you before?" you shook your head 'no.' "is it alright if i do?"

"anything, xay, anything, please," you nodded as your hands tangled into his hair.

he pressed gentle kisses around your clit before licking one line through your slit, lapping up your juices like a man starved. you heard him moan into your pussy, the vibrations shooting through your core shocking you more than you thought possible. you reactively tugged on his hair, tossing your head back as he continued, now sucking gently, very softly, on your clit.

"oh my fuck," you breathed out, looking down at xavier to find his eyes fixated on you and your reaction. "god, you look so pretty, xay."

you felt him smile against your pussy, not letting himself get distracted by little compliments that he was sure melted his heart completely. one of his hands was gripping your thigh so hard you were sure there would be marks the next morning, the other hand was placed on your lower stomach, pressing down just slightly. he used the hand that was rasping your thigh and gently pushed a single finger in.

your mouth formed in an 'o' shape at the intrusion. his fingers were much longer than your own, and when he curled it inside of you, you swore you could see stars in his eyes as he continued to suck and kiss your clit. he gently thrusted his finger in and out a few times before adding a second finger.

"please don't stop," you were gripping his hair so tight you were surprised it hadn't ripped out. "'m so close, xay."

he stopped sucking your clit momentarily to say: "be sure to look at me when you cum."

you nodded dumbly as he got back to work, and it wasn't long until you were at that edge that no other man has ever been successful in bringing you to. at first you threw your head back before you remembered what you had promised him. with a few more thrusts of his fingers, you saw the look of pride on his face when he felt you squeezing his fingers in a vice grip, your mouth dropped open completely as pornographic moans left your mouth.

"fuck, yes, xavier!" you ground against his mouth as he worked you down from your high. "holy shit," your chest was heaving as he kissed his way back up your body.

he hovered over you as he sucked on the same two fingers that were just inside you, groaning, "did i tell you how amazing you taste?"

"will you fuck me now?" you reached down between the two of you to palm him through his sweatpants. "i really, really want you."

"i don't want you to just want to do this because you want to get it over with," you could sense the sincerity in his tone. "i want this to be more than just a hookup."

"it's not, xavier," you cupped his face with one hand. "i assure you, it's not," you smiled as he pressed your foreheads together. "you mean so much more to me than just one amazing night, xay."

"are you sure you want to do this?"

"yes."

"wait, i don't have anything..." xavier hinted with a worried look on his face.

"well, i'm obviously clean, and i've been on the pill since the eighth grade," you shrugged. "if you want..."

"really?" his eyes widened at the thought, you nodded. "i've never... shit. this'll be a new experience for the both of us."

after a bit of shuffling, xavier lined himself up at your entrance, looking at you one more time for confirmation. as he entered you, it was like the wind was knocked out of you. your arms wrapped around his neck as he continued to push himself into you. at a certain point, you thought it was never-ending.

"god, you're so tight," he breathed into your neck, pressing a kiss to one of your hickeys as he continued.

your head was thrown back as he finally bottomed out in you, one of your arms wrapped around his waist while the other was around his neck with your hand buried in his hair.

"so deep," you closed your eyes at the sensation. "'s like you're in my stomach, holy fuck."

he pressed down on that same spot he had earlier, very gentle, but you felt it so, so much. "is that where?" you nodded fervently.

"please move, xay, please," your hand was practically clawing at his back.

"i'm gonna go slow, okay?" you nodded at his words. "if you change your mind about anything at all, say the word and i'll stop, alright?"

"okay," you agreed with a smile as he slowly pulled back out before reentering at the exact same pace.

with each thrust, his pace increased. your moans' volume increased too. it was as if each whimper, moan, and plea was simply egging him on and bringing him to the end of that wonderful precipice of pleasure.

"you look fucking perfect," his own groans and huffs of pleasure rang out. "such pretty tits," he messily grabbed one of them. when he brought his hand down to play with your clit, you knew you weren't going to last much longer. "and such a pretty pussy for me. all mine, y/n/n. all mine."

"god, it's-i'm..." you were cut off by a guttural moan. "i need to cum. i'm gonna cum! xavier, please don't stop! please!"

"where do you want it?"

"inside, please!" you huffed out, clawing at his back as you whimpered in his ear. "need it so bad."

"say you're mine," he ordered. you could feel his dick pulsing inside of you.

"i'm-oh god," you cried out once more, tears forming at your lash line. "i'm yours! i've always been yours, xay, please! fuck!" for the second time, xavier was able to bring you off that cliff, this time he followed suit.

"so fucking pretty when you cum," xavier added before with a few more thrusts, his thick cum coated your walls. "oh fuck."

"oh my god," you sighed out as xavier slumped against your body, laying completely on top of you.

"you got that right," you could feel his smile against your shoulder before he began to press kisses against your warm skin. "here," he reluctantly got up from his position after carefully pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his sweats, and reached for one of his recently cleaned towels (he had a rotation for them, alright?). he began to wipe up your thighs, being very gentle at your center.

"xavier?" you called before he laid back down.

"yea?" he looked at your worriedly before you smiled, simply asking: "can i wear your shirt to sleep?"

a bright smile made its way to his face, "of course, yea," he helped you poke your arms and head through the shirt before he stepped back, admiring you in it. "i almost like this on you more than nothing on you. almost."

"xavier!" you called before shoving him to the side. "you perv."

"you like this 'perv,' as you call it," he rolled his eyes as he began to cuddle with you on the mattress.

"i wanna lay on you," you tried to get onto your knees to maneuver your way on top before he had to catch your arm.

"let me help you a bit," he tried to hide his smug smile while he rolled the two of you over.

"i'm never gonna live this down," you shook your head as he raked his fingers through your hair.

"nope," you laid in the most comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again: "y/n?"

"mhmm?"

"i might've lied earlier when i said that i told ajax and enid that i liked you," you could sense a bit of restriction in his tone.

"what do you mean?" you held your breath.

"i told them the truth," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, getting your attention so you were looking in his eyes. "that i'm in love with you."

[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

[papercorgiworld]

Not into you

A Regulus Black imagine

This is part two to Lily’s Potion. Read it here.

Regulus is taunting you, hoping you will confess that you’re into him. When you try to get your revenge things get very interesting.

Warning: slightly suggestive, but also just sweet

I was super excited about this one when I wrote it, but I just reread and meh. But I really hope you like it. It's less smutty than part one and more fluffy, I think... Feedback is always welcome. Sending you all lots of love and of course happy readings!

– The request –

NEED a part two for Lilys Potion pleaseeee 🙏🙏

– The writing –

When Lily and Marlene had told you that avoiding Regulus wasn’t that difficult they clearly forgot that you’re both in the same year and that he can be an obnoxious ass if he wants to be. You feel your whole body tense when you notice he’s taking the seat behind you. You hear a little shuffling but try to focus on your book, checking today’s subject before class. Regulus gets up from his seat slightly leaning over his desk to get closer to you. “I did some research and there’s no way that the things you said and did… or at least tried to do, were all induced by that potion. You wanted it.” His raspy whisper and words make you forget to breathe for a second. There’s a silence and Regulus’ smile grows smug, convinced that you’ll admit you like him, but you regain composure. “Don’t flatter yourself, Regulus. You’re my best friend’s baby brother.” Merlin, he hated it when you referred to him as just his brother's ‘baby’ brother, but his scowl was mostly caused by your ridiculous argument. “What does that have to do with you being horny for me?” Regulus asks bluntly, eyes taunting and smug. You’re absolutely baffled by his choice of words. Horny? Who does this brat think he is! You turn slightly but don’t face him and protest with an annoyed but hushed voice. “I’m not horny for you!” Far from convinced, Regulus' eyes turn even more cocky than they usually are with a filthy smile tugging on his lips. He’s about to open his mouth when the professor walks in, bringing an end to the conversation.

***

You join your friends at the gryffindor table, but do so with a scowl on your face. “What’s gotten you in such a pissy mood?” Peter asks, making everyone look at you. “Them.” You say, making all eyes move to the slytherin table, not needing any further reference to who you were talking about. Regulus and his friends were snickering about something but Regulus’ eyes were focussed on you. When he sees half the gryffindor table look at him, he just smirks and looks away. “Yeah… what’s up with that?” Sirius asks you and you frown. “What happened at the party? I mean Regulus pulled you away from me and next we find you both in your room?” You feel your cheeks heat up and avert your eyes to the food instead of your friends’ questioning looks. “Nothing happened.” You say, sounding annoyed and anything but convincing. Lily tactfully changes the subject and most of the table follows her lead, except for James who keeps his eyes focused on you. “You know there’s such a thing as revenge.” He whispers just loud enough to get your attention and avoid the rest from picking up on what he’s saying. “What do you mean?” You ask confused but also genuinely interested in whatever James’ brain had cooked up. “Put him through the same and see if he’s still laughing at you then.” 

Your smile slowly mirrors James’ grin as you see the whole plot work out, but at the slytherin table a very wary Regulus senses trouble. 

***

James had come up with a plan. You had to distract Lily so he could steal the last dose of her crappy potion. You didn’t like going behind your friend’s back but James had convinced you that it was best to avoid Lily since she had somewhat of a moral compass and purposely drugging a guy to get some petty revenge was a bit ‘morally grey’ as James put it. The second step of the two step plan was to convince Sirius to join in so he could slip Regulus the potion. After some judgmental frowning Sirius quickly decided to pick James’ plan of mischief over his own flesh and blood. 

***

So now here you were, casually hanging at a party with Marlene and Remus by your side discussing the immense workload the professors had hit you with over the past few weeks. You occasionally scan the room to see if you could spot Regulus. When an hour had passed and you still hadn’t seen him you began to worry. You clearly hadn’t thought this through at all, what if you had caused Regulus to end up with someone. You and James had agreed to not let things escalate but James had clearly forgotten about that since he was more than a little wasted already. 

You leave your friends in search of Regulus, but he’s nowhere to be found at the party. So you decide to be brave and approach a drunk and wickedly smiling Barty. Who’s smile turns filthy as soon as he notices you walking over to him. “Well, look at that, pretty girl looking for some entertainment? Come to the right place.” He winks and leans a little closer to you. You roll your eyes and just ignore his words. “I’m looking for Regulus.” You state and Barty rolls his eyes. “Really that's the guy you want to go for?” Barty teases with wiggling eyebrows. “You could have me. I’m better looking, funnier and slightly less emo.” You raise your eyebrows and feel saved when Evan shouts from a nearby couch. “Sit your drunk ass down Barty.” Barty complies without a single word of protest, his eyes suggestively looking at Evan now. “I’m afraid you missed him, pretty sure Regulus left for his dorm about half an hour ago.” Evan says and you quickly thank him rushing out to find Regulus.

You fling the door of Regulus’ room open to find him pacing around in his room. His tie was undone, shirt wrinkly and hair messy. There was a cauldron and a mess of ingredients surrounding it. As your eyes focus on whatever he was brewing, Regulus spots you and turns red. When you meet his eyes he spins around, away from you. “You! What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.” A stressed hand moves through his hair and you observe him carefully. “You alright?” You ask, closing the door behind you and taking a step towards him. “No! I’m not alright. I know what you did! You gave me that potion and now my mind’s running wild!” He turns around, but takes a step back to keep some distance between you two. For the past hour his mind and body had been craving you. He had done his best to keep himself in check and work on a cure rather than run to you, confessing his secret crush on you. You feel guilty, seeing him this distressed. 

“I’m so sorry, Regulus. James and I just didn’t think this one through at all, but you were being a bit of  a dick and we thought it was funny.” As you apologise and explain yourself, Regulus’ mind wanders. His eyes lustfully move over your figure, taking in every beautiful detail. He feels his whole body heat up and his member twitches in his pants. Her lips are so kissable. Fuck, I need her in my bed, underneath me. Or she could just hold me and kiss me. She’s wearing that perfume again. It’s killing me. I bet she tastes even better than she smells. - What the hell am I thinking? She’s just a stupid girl. - Merlin, I want her, need her. Damn potion. She’s the one. So fuckable. She would be such a sweet and beautiful mom to our children. “Regulus? Did you even hear a thing I said?” You snap your fingers in front of the dreamy slytherin.

“Just help me make a cure before I confess my feelings for you.” Regulus snaps, turning to the cauldron on the table. Your eyes widen and it takes a second before his eyes fill with horror. “Feelings?” You ask, feeling your cheeks heat up and your heart swell with joy. “It’s the potion talking.” Regulus quickly argues, but a cheeky smile tugs on your lips as you remember what he had told you just a few days earlier. “No, Reg, I clearly remember you telling me that the potion doesn’t induce any feelings of any sort.” 

“Shit.” Regulus curses, looking down. He had been so eager to have you confess your feelings and now it was blowing up in his face. “Well since I’ve already embarrassed myself today, I might as well do this while I'm still high on this potion.” He takes two big steps towards you and brings a hand to the back of your head, pulling you into an intensely deep and passionate kiss. He pulls away and takes a deep breath, calling up on all his self control to ignore you and focus on the potion. Meanwhile you’re still on cloud nine due to that amazing kiss. “Hey, twinkle eyes, you gonna help me or just stand there being beautiful and distracting me.” Though he was giving a compliment there was clear annoyance in his voice. He hated being so vulnerable and was still embarrassed about confessing. 

You eventually snap out of it and tell Regulus to take a seat on his bed and relax so you can work properly without his mess of hormones interfering. When you finally finish the potion he swallows it down eagerly. You watch him carefully to see if it worked. Regulus lets himself fall onto his bed again, relieved that the horny hunger inside of him had somewhat calmed down to a normal amount. However, now that the effects of the potion had worn out you were still on his mind, as always. He runs a hand over his face. “Fine. Laugh all you want.” Regulus finally says, throwing his arms wide in surrender and you chuckle at his dramatics, but you don’t laugh to Regulus’ surprise. Instead you move closer to him and straddle him. He’s confused for a second, but more than happy to welcome you on his lap. 

“You’re kinda hot when you’re all bothered like this.” You whisper as you comb through his hair with your fingers, making him smirk, satisfied to have you. He pulls you closer and pushes himself up so his lips brush yours. “I thought you weren’t into me?” Regulus whispers teasingly. “I lied.” You say with a cheeky smile and Regulus, squeeze your side making you yelp before kissing you lovingly. I knew it. 

Word count: 1728

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

even as a shadow, even as a dream pt.5

Pairing: Vamp!Eddie Munson/Fem Reader; Vamp!Eddie Munson/You

Summary: You go to check on Wayne, but things don't go as planned. (Reader’s POV)

Rating: M(ature)

WC: 17k (i know, i know, im sorry lol)

Warnings: vague mentions of suicidal thoughts (nothing graphic, wayne's just going through it for a hot minute, but its a happy ending, i swear,) adult language, brief violence

A/N: sorry for the delay (and once again the length lmao) i just want all the eddie/wayne interactions because the duffer bros ROBBED us of their relationship :'( but i know i went really, overly self indulgent with this chap lol. i might be obsessed with eddie munson. you might say that. (i say that, since im currently posting this on my birthday instead of going to idk brunch like a normal person lmaooo)

anyway, thank you to everyone who's read, commented, and/or reblogged! ❤️ it really means a lot to me. hope you enjoy this next installment! and stay tuned for the smutty finale of this series ;)

Ao3 Link: Here | Pt. 1: Here | Pt. 2: Here | Pt. 3 : Here | Pt. 4 : Here | Pt. 6 : Here

Taglist: @sushihousebread @localdepressedvampire @alienthewolf @frozenhuntress67 @honeycovered-bandaids @sashaphantomhive

Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

It took you a little over fifteen minutes to reach the high school where it should have taken you five, but you’d been forced to weave through back roads due to the gates bisecting most of Hawkins. By the time you parked your car, your good mood and the lingering sensation of Eddie’s kiss had dissipated, and you sat staring out your windshield with the steering wheel gripped in white-knuckled fists.

The parking lot was chaos. You’d found one of the only open spots between the dozens of other cars, the government Jeeps, and the tents for handing out supplies like food and water. The people who could leave Hawkins were already gone, so this was what was left. Some were here because their houses were destroyed, and they had nowhere else to go. Others still had their homes but resided in parts of Hawkins where the power or water was out.

And spaced out between all the people of your hometown were relief aid workers and soldiers.

The sight of the soldiers made you nervous. You had this irrational fear that one would look at your face and just see all your secrets. Like Eddie. Like Eleven. You knew it was unlikely, improbable, but seeing as you had several impossibilities hanging out back in your living room, you couldn’t discount your unease entirely.

You would just have to be quick. Get in, find Wayne, talk to him for a minute, and leave. You could do that. It was simple enough. Absently, you wished you had a cigarette for your nerves, but since you didn’t, you took a deep breath, wiped your sweaty fingers on your shirt, and picked up the plate you’d set on the passenger seat. It was lukewarm now, but you knew there were microwaves in the school, so hopefully Wayne could still have a hot breakfast.

As you got out of your car, you kept your head down and tried to blend into the crowd. No one spared you a second glance as you made your way to the gym, but your body still tensed up every time you passed the soldiers in their green uniforms.

Thankfully, you made it to the gymnasium without incident, and you breathed a sigh in relief when you saw there were no soldiers here. Just downtrodden townsfolk and aid workers.

A tendril of guilt snaked through you since you only had one plate to give, but you reminded yourself that there was only so much you could do. You couldn’t give people back their homes, their livelihoods… their loved ones. You couldn’t feed the whole town. But you could do a small kindness for Wayne Munson, and though it seemed inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, you hoped it would at least give Eddie’s uncle some comfort to know people were thinking about him.

It was the very least you could do.

Still, guilt was thick in the back of your throat as you slowly started winding your way through the rows of cots that now took up the gymnasium floor. Most people barely seemed to notice you, their eyes sliding away like rain on glass, but a few frowned in your direction. You wondered if it was something about your appearance— your clothes, your cast, the scabs on your knees— or if some of the people knew who you were. It had been five days since the gate opened, four days since you spoke to the police and pinned Vecna’s murders on Jason. You knew rumors had to be flying around by now, and although you didn’t think you’d been specifically named in any reports, Hawkins was small. Information leaked out faster than the Titanic took on water.

And the angry mob Jason riled up never got their “justice.”

You really didn’t want to be the target of the town’s next inquisition, so you ducked your head and continued searching for Wayne out of the corner of your eyes.

But after doing several laps around the gym, you came to the realization that he wasn’t here. He should have been. It was a little past ten in the morning, and you knew the older Munson had continued working night shifts at the plant since the town still needed power. He always got off at dawn, and should have returned to the high school since the trailer was gone.

So, where was he?

A prickle of unease made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, but you refused to let it bloom into panic. Wayne was fine. If something happened to him at the plant— Oh, fuck, would you even know? With Eddie “gone,” the older Munson didn’t have any next of kin that you knew of. If something else crawled out of the gates and got him, the police were under no obligation to notify anyone.

Now, your breathing became a little shallow, more rapid, and you couldn’t help casting one last frantic glance around the gym.

“Lookin’ for someone?”

The deep, male voice made you jump, and you nearly dropped the plate you were holding as you whirled around, sneakers squealing against the gymnasium floor.

“Careful now,” the man said. He was middle-aged, with graying blond hair and a thick mustache. You didn’t recognize him, but the way he dragged his pale eyes down your body made you uncomfortable.

You didn’t know what his gaze lingered on longer: the Judas Priest shirt you were wearing and the breasts underneath, or your cotton shorts and bare legs.

“Sorry, you, uh, startled me,” you muttered, setting the plate of food down on a table beside you so the man couldn’t see how you were trembling.

“Didn’t mean to,” the man grunted before he cocked his head at you. “Just seemed like you were looking for someone. Are ya?”

You reflexively opened your mouth to say no, but then paused. It had already been more than twenty minutes since you left the house. Eddie and the others would expect you back soon. But you didn’t want to tell them Wayne was missing, and you didn’t have a lot of time to search before you would have to call them and let them know why you were running late. Best case scenario, Wayne was maybe in the bathroom or something, and this blond man saw him walk out a few minutes ago. Worst case scenario, something had happened to Wayne at the plant, but with the way gossip spread through Hawkins, this man might have heard something.

Either way, a single question couldn’t hurt. Right?

The man was starting to stare at you strangely, so you decided to bite the bullet.

“Um, yes, actually,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’m looking for Wayne Munson. Have you seen him?”

Instantly, the man’s face changed. Where he had been curious and slightly lecherous before, now he was angry. His blue eyes turned into chips of glass, and you could hear how he gritted his teeth, the line of his mouth twisting into a snarl.

“Munson?” He practically spat the name. “What’s a girl like you looking for—”

The blond cut himself off, his gaze falling to your chest again, but this time you knew he was reading the faded Judas Priest logo instead of just staring at your tits.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Ain’t that one of them Satanic bands? What, you part of Munson’s little cult?”

Rage immediately ignited in your gut, spreading molten through your veins, and you bit down on your tongue to stop yourself from spewing lava. You couldn’t afford to lose your temper.

But you also couldn’t bear to hear Eddie’s name dragged through the mud.

“There was no cult,” you gritted out as you clenched and unclenched your right fist. “The police cleared Eddie Munson. Jason Carver was the one who—”

“Jason Carver was a good kid,” the man cut you off, narrowing his cold blue eyes into a glare. “The police don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. That freak Munson boy murdered the Cunningham girl, and I bet he made ole’ Wayne watch. Sick bastards, the both of them. At least one of them is dead. Woulda been two if the cops weren’t such pussies.”

The blood was roaring through your ears now, the heat in your gut filling the rest of your body until it felt like the top of your head was going to pop off from the pressure. But then the man’s last words finally filtered through your boiling thoughts, and you felt the breath catch in your lungs.

“Where is Wayne?” you demanded, taking a step forward until you were nearly toe to toe with the blond man. “What the fuck did you do to him?”

The man seemed surprised by the strength behind your words, behind your glare, but he pulled himself up to his full height, which was more than a head taller than you. He also puffed out his chest as he stared down at you, like he was waiting for you to back down, to cower.

But you had faced evils beyond this pea-brained fucker’s limited imagination. He would have to do more than that to intimidate you.

“So I was right,” the blond sneered down at you. “You must have been the Munson boy’s whore before hell swallowed him up, and with him gone, you’ve turned to wrinkled Wayne to help with that ache between your slutty legs. Well, Jezebel, he ain’t here no more. This morning, some of the boys and I gave him the righteous punishment the Lord demanded. And now you also need to repent for your sinful ways, witch.”

He reached out and grabbed your left arm, right above your elbow, twisting until it hurt.

That small flare of pain burned away the last strand of your self-restraint, and you saw red.

Reacting on instinct, you hauled back you right fist and then drove it into the man’s fleshy throat. He choked and staggered, blue eyes bulging out of his face in surprise, but you were already moving, pressing forward, wrenching your arm out of his grasp and tripping him at the same time. He crashed to the gym floor, toppling a cot, and you dove forward, landing on his soft gut and driving the air from his lungs.

Before he could even catch his breath, you slammed your knee into his balls so hard that he let out an involuntary shout and immediately gagged, turning his head as saliva dribbled from his lips.

But you were not done, flames still licking through your veins, turning all your good sense to ash.

You dug the fingers of your right hand into his chin, jerking his head around to face you, and then you slammed the cast on your left wrist against his gaping, gasping mouth. The blond man cried out again, gurgling on blood as his lip split right down the middle, and when he turned his head again, red-tinged saliva and a tooth splattered across the gym floor.

Without thinking, you snatched up the tooth in your left hand, forcing the man’s glassy blue eyes to look at it as you held it up between your faces.

“If you ever,” you snarled, “try to touch me or anyone named Munson ever again, I will use this tooth to curse you and your whole fucking family until kingdom come. Because you’re right, I am a witch. The worst fucking kind. Satan knows my name personally, and I fuck him every full moon. So if you try me again, the cops will find your entrails scattered across Hawkins, and not even your pitiful God will recognize you when I’m done. Do you fucking understand me?”

The man whimpered and gurgled, fear stark on his bloody face, but he managed a weak nod.

The blood was still pounding through your ears, but you could hear a distant murmur beneath it, and when you look up, you saw a small crowd of people staring at you with wide eyes. Suddenly, you were all too aware of the blood of your hands, the way you were straddling the blond man pinned beneath you, his whimpering moans.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You shoved yourself to your feet, and the crowd of spectators stumbled back, pale and fearful. You meet none of their eyes, instead glancing back down at the man still moaning on the ground. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were bruised and scabbed over, and you suddenly remembered what the bastard had said.

Some of the boys and I gave him the righteous punishment the Lord demanded.

The realization that they had hurt Wayne rekindled the dying inferno inside you, and you didn’t even think about it as you hauled back your foot and kicked the blond fucker straight in the nuts with all your strength.

This time, he rolled completely onto his side and vomited, curling into a fetal position to ward off any more blows.

But you didn’t have time to kick him again. You heard the gym doors bang open, and when you glanced up, a pair of soldiers were talking to someone who was pointing in your direction.

Time to go.

Your brain was working on auto pilot as you snatched up your forgotten plate of cold breakfast, and then you were whirling around, hoping over cots and darting through tables. Thankfully, everyone parted for you like the Red Sea, and you hit the gym’s side door just as someone shouted for you to stop.

You burst outside and started sprinting around the building. The chaos worked in your favor this time, because everyone was shouting about everything, so no one heard the soldiers yelling after you. Skidding up to the door of your car, you wretched it open and collapsed onto the driver’s seat, throwing the plate into the passenger’s side as you cranked the engine. Within seconds, you were squealing out of the parking lot sans seatbelt, and by some miracle, you didn’t crash the car or run anyone over.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered over and over as you drove down the road, glancing in the rearview for any pursuers.

But no other cars or Jeeps turned out of the school, and soon you were winding your way through residential Hawkins. You took several overlapping turns in case someone tried to follow you, but after five minutes, there was nothing, so you were pretty sure you were in the clear.

Besides, the cops and soldiers definitely had more pressing matters than a brawl between townsfolk. Hopefully.

A sudden sting of pain in your left palm made you wince, bringing your hand up from where it was curled in your lap. You couldn’t close your fist fully because of the cast, but you fingers were clenched around something, and when you extended them, you realized you were still clutching that man’s bloody tooth.

“Ugh.” You made a face and dropped the tooth into your cup holder, not knowing what else to do with it. The adrenaline was starting to fade now, letting the aches in your body take center stage. Your knees were sore since you’d slammed them into the gym floor, and your wrist ached beneath the cast. You were also splattered in a fine mist of blood, and you winced again when you realized you would have to return to Eddie like this.

Like your thoughts summoned him, the walkie on the floorboard of your passenger seat suddenly crackled to life.

“Come in, Mrs. Munson,” Dustin’s voice snickered. “Come in— ow!”

There was the sound of a scuffle, followed by more static, and then Eddie’s voice filled the car.

“Ignore him, Obi. We just wanted to check in and see where you are. Over.”

You sighed as you pulled over to the side of the road. You were far enough from the school now that pausing a moment shouldn’t hurt, so you leaned over the center console, hissing at the strain in your ribs. Finally, your fingers brushed the walkie, and you reeled it back into your lap with a gasp.

“I’m here,” you said, trying not to sound pained and breathless.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “You on your way home?”

“Uhhh…” You flinched, mind scrambling for an excuse. “A-Actually, I just got to the high school. A lot of the, um, roads were blocked off, so it was a bitch and a half to get here. And don’t even get me started on parking.”

You absolutely hated lying to Eddie, but you didn’t want to worry him just yet. You needed to find Wayne first, figure out how hurt he was. When you had that info, you would apologize profusely and tell Eddie the truth, but not a moment sooner.

“Oh,” Eddie said, and he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his tone. “So you’ll be, what, another thirty, forty-five minutes?”

“A-Around there,” you replied, clearing your throat and willing your voice to stop shaking. But then a thought occurred to you, and you frowned as you pressed the button on the walkie again. “Why? Are you… hungry? Should I come home now?”

It had been a few hours since Eddie fed, and with so many people at the house, he might be struggling.

Before you could start to panic, Eddie’s voice cut through the static again.

“No, no,” he hurried out. “I’m fine. I just… miss you.”

He said the last part quietly, but you suddenly hear Dustin, Mike, and Lucas “ooooohhhh” in unison.

“Shut up, you damn brats,” Eddie huffed before their voices were replaced with static.

The admission and light hearted teasing made you smile faintly, but it faded when your eyes fell to the blood speckled across your cast. You took a deep breath before you clicked the walkie again.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I’ll just be a little while longer,” you said, hoping that you weren’t lying.

“Okay,” Eddie responded easily. “Harrington and Buckley are gonna go break into the Family Video—”

“It’s not a break-in if we have the key!” Robin interjected.

“Right,” Eddie snorted before he addressed you again. “So, any requests, Obi?”

“I’m fine with whatever,” you muttered a little distractedly, tensing up as you saw a car approaching in your rearview, but it passed you a moment later without incident, so you focused on Eddie again. “You know I’m not picky.”

“You say that now, but have you seen Harrington’s movie tastes?”

“Hey—” Steve began to protest before he was cut off by static.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, even if your whole body was still tense and achy. “Can’t be any worse than that animated Lord of the Rings movie you made me watch.”

“The execution was flawed, but the vision, sweetheart, the vision!” Eddie argued like he always did, and you could tell he was about to launch into a familiar rant, but you didn’t have the time right now.

“As much as I would like to talk about ‘the vision,’ people are starting to stare at me funny, so I gotta go. I’ll, uh, call you when I’m on my way home.”

“Finnnne,” Eddie sighed dramatically, but then he grew serious again. “But, um, stay safe, alright?”

You could hear the thinly veiled concern in his words, and it twisted your heart.

“I promise,” you murmured into the walkie, and even though you knew it would only cause more heckling, you added, “Love you, Munson.”

Sure enough, when Eddie responded, the laughter and cooing in the background almost drowned him out.

“Love you, too, Obi,” he said before you heard what sounded like his wings flapping. “Alright, you annoying gremlins, back! Get back, I say!”

The chaos faded into static as Eddie clicked off the walkie, and you shook your head as you tossed the device into your passenger seat. It clinked off the plate of cold breakfast, and you frowned down at the foil, your temporary good mood fading with Eddie’s voice.

“Fuck,” you sighed as you dragged a hand down your face.

You needed to find Wayne, and fast. From what that blond fucker back at the school had said, you were pretty sure the older Munson was injured. How badly, you didn’t know. But he’d been run out of the school, so you tried to figure out where he would most likely be hiding.

The hospital was your first thought, but after some consideration, you didn’t think Wayne would go there unless he was really hurt. God, you hoped that wasn’t the case. But if he didn’t go to the hospital, where else could he possibly go?

You could only think of one place.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you tugged your seatbelt on and put the car in drive.

As you pulled back onto the road, you hoped your hunch panned out. If it didn’t, then you would haul ass to the hospital, and if Wayne wasn’t there either, you would go home and tell Eddie. Dustin could stay with him while you and Harrington combed Hawkins, but fuck, you really hoped it didn’t come to that.

The drive to your destination was relatively fast, and before you knew it, you were approaching Forest Hills trailer park.

Since it was one of the origin points for the gates, you expected to encounter more trouble, like having to sneak past some guards and a few Jeeps. But only a few wooden barricades barred the entrance to the park, and there wasn’t a guard or patrol in sight. You guessed that with the gates now taking up several square miles, it just wasn’t feasible for them to be guarded at all hours of the day, but the fact that there was no one made you uneasy.

If Eddie had so easily crawled out of the gate, what else could do the same when no one was watching?

You glanced in your rearview, at the machete that was just lying in the backseat, a leftover gift from your trip to the WarZone. Then you tried to calm yourself down, reminded yourself that Will or Eleven would have said something if they felt Vecna making a move again. Things from the Upside Down also abhorred light and heat, and it was almost eleven in the morning, the sun bright and warm overhead. You should be fine. You would just drive up real quick, and if you didn’t see Wayne or his truck, you would turn right back around and head for the hospital.

With this plan in mind, you carefully maneuvered around the barricades, wincing as your car, and therefore your body, jolted over grass and then gravel while you made your way deeper into the park.

You didn’t know if you actually wanted to find Wayne here or not, but unfortunately it didn’t matter, because you immediately spotted Wayne’s truck.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, slowing your speed as you approached the Munson trailer.

Or what was left of it.

The gate had torn it to pieces, and your stomach churned when you caught sight of the bloody-looking gash that was carved into the ground. Last night, Eddie had told you that this was where he came back through, and you wondered if the membrane was still ripped.

Shit. You couldn’t stay here.

But you couldn’t leave, either, so you pulled up beside Wayne’s truck and killed the engine. Your heart was in your throat as your eyes darted around, looking for Demogorgons, dogs, bats, vines, whatever, but the trailer park was still and empty around you.

Except for Wayne. Who was kneeling in the dead grass before the ruined trailer, about twenty feet from where you were parked in your car.

The sight of him instantly made your heart skip a beat. He was upright at least, but hunched over, and there seemed to be a cut or wound on the back of his head, like he’d been struck from behind.

Again, anger bubbled up inside you, volatile and strong. You hoped you had popped that blond bastard’s scrotum.

But you couldn’t think about that fucker anymore. You needed to check on Wayne, make sure he was okay. With this in mind, you fumbled with your seatbelt and then the door handle, wincing when your shoes made a loud crunch against the gravel.

Wayne seemed to hear it, too, and he curled further into himself, like he was bracing for a blow.

Something in the cowed line of his shoulders made you think of Eddie cowering in your bathtub, and you started speaking before you even knew what you were going to say.

“M-Mr. Munson,” you started as you tentatively stepped forward, which just made Wayne flinch again. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m not— I’m not here to hurt you. I don’t um, know if you remember me, but I’m E-Eddie’s friend.”

You told him your name as you slowly approached him, but Wayne gave no reaction, and you suddenly couldn’t remember if you’d ever properly introduced yourself to him.

“Eddie, he, uhh— you might know me as Obi,” you added with a faint blush.

Now, you were only a few feet behind the older Munson, and he finally seemed to relax a fraction, the line of his shoulders not so taut and trembling. You took this as a good sign and fully closed the distance, but once you were standing directly behind him and could see over his shoulder, an involuntary gasp ejected out of your throat.

“S-Shit,” you breathed, and everything in you froze.

Because while you still couldn’t see Wayne’s face, you could see that his hands were cradled, palm up, in his lap. And lying across those hands was a revolver made of silver metal and wood. The older Munson wasn’t even gripping it, his finger nowhere near the trigger, but your body broke out in a cold sweat as your heart started tripping over itself.

“M-Mr. Munson,” you said, your voice hitched and cracking while your eyes stayed glued to the pistol. “What are… what are you doing?”

For a long moment, Wayne didn’t respond. The trailer park was quiet and still around you save the wind in the trees, and you started to inch your way to the side as slowly and quietly as possible until the older man’s profile came into view. His face was covered in fresh bruises, his right eye nearly swollen shut. He seemed to be staring at the gun in his lap, or maybe just the dirt beneath him. He wasn’t blinking.

After another silent moment, you opened your mouth to prompt him again, but he finally spoke.

“Can’t find any bullets,” he muttered, so softly you had to lean forward to hear him, and you still weren’t sure you heard him correctly.

“What?” you asked, keeping your tone quiet and soothing, like you were speaking to a skittish animal.

Wayne’s fingers twitched around the revolver, but he still didn’t grip it.

“Bullets,” he repeated, a little more strongly this time. “Found the gun, but couldn’t find the bullets. Ain’t that funny?”

Your throat tightened, like it was wrapped in a fist, a vise. Heart pounding, you struggled to think of a response, but apparently Wayne didn’t need one, because he kept going.

“I just… wanted to see if there was anything left,” he said as he finally lifted his head, staring at where his trailer used to reside. “You know, I don’t even have any pictures of Ed. Was never any extra money lying around for film and cameras. I had to use his yearbook pictures for the… for the posters. I just wanted one picture. One of them notebooks he was always scribbling in. Maybe one of his tapes. But there’s just… nothing left.”

One hand lifted halfheartedly to gesture at the ruined trailer, the gaping gash in the earth that was mere feet away. Wayne took a deep, shuddering breath, and his voice was thick with tears when he continued.

“I got nothin’ left,” he choked out, tears trickling out of his swollen eye and down his battered cheek. “Brother’s in prison probably until he dies. I never married. And Ed— he wasn’t my son, but he was my boy, and h-he’s gone. And everyone says the world’s better off, but that’s not true. Ed was a good kid. He was kind. No one understood him, but he wasn’t the monster they’re painting him as on the news. He was… he was a good boy.”

The older Munson broke off into sobs, and tears immediately blurred your vision, burning down your cheeks.

“I know,” you murmured as you slowly and carefully dropped to your knees beside Wayne. Your fingers itched to yank the gun out of his hands, but you refrained for now, instead clutching at your knees. “I know, Mr. Munson. I see— saw the good in Eddie. He was the kindest, brightest person I ever met. The room seemed to always light up when he walked in. Probably because he flicked the switch on for a dramatic entrance.”

Wayne choked out the ghost of a laugh, sniffling as he turned to fully look at you. Head-on, his face looked much worse. His right eye was swollen and purple, and his left cheekbone bore the distinct impression of several knuckles. His lips were cracked and split, and blood had soaked into the collar of the white undershirt he was wearing beneath his flannel.

Your heart ached for the older man, and a part of you wanted to go back to the high school and stomp on that guy’s nuts yet again. But you tamped down your anger, making sure it wasn’t visible on your face as Wayne continued to look at you.

The two of you stared at each other for a long, silent moment before Wayne finally broke it.

“Ed was always talkin’ bout you, ya know?” he rasped as he studied your face. “Always going on about ‘Obi this,’ and ‘Obi that.’ I think… I think you were the first person to ever really see him. He was always happy when he talked about you, couldn’t wait to see you again even if you’d just left. He… god, he really loved you. So thank you. For seeing the good in him. For makin’ my boy happy.”

You could barely see the older man through your tears now, and you drew in a great, gasping breath. The grief rolling off Wayne was suffocating, clogging your throat, but guilt built up like a rising tide inside you, threatening to drag you out to sea.

“I… I loved him, too,” you said, hating that you were using the past tense. “And… and he made me just as happy. But he loved you, too, Mr. Munson. He told me so many times how grateful he was that you took him. That you were the only reason he turned out to be such a good guy.”

“Nah,” Wayne scoffed and dropped his eyes to his lap— and the gun— again. “All I did was put a roof over Ed’s head, and a shitty one at that. No, he… he was always good, ever since he was a baby. He wasn’t like the rest of us Munson men. He was… better. He deserved better. Better than I or the rest of this godforsaken town ever gave him.”

His last words took on an edge of anger, and suddenly he was tightly clutching the revolver, making your heart leap into your throat.

“You deserve better, too,” you blurted out desperately, your eyes never leaving the pistol. If Wayne so much as twitched, you were tackling him into the dirt. “I-I know what happened at the high school this morning. I had my own altercation with that blond bastard, the one with the mustache. He was gloating about what he did to you until I knocked his damn teeth out.”

Wayne looked up with a frown then, his anger momentarily displaced by confusion. “Why? They were right. I shoulda left this town years ago. Taken Ed with me. But I was a damn coward. Didn’t want to start somewhere new. And look what happened. Ed’s… dead. Because of me and my cowardice. Larry and the other fellas were right. The world would be a better place without me in it.”

He glanced down at the pistol again, fingers tightening around the metal, and even though he said he hadn’t found any bullets, you panicked.

“Eddie’s alive,” you blurted out, and then cursed yourself in a million different ways.

But what were you supposed to do? Even if you talked Wayne off the proverbial ledge now with some empty platitudes, you were then supposed to… what? Send the older Munson on his way thinking he was to blame for his nephew’s death? By Wayne’s tone, you knew he wouldn’t even make it out of Hawkins. The cops would probably find his truck flipped over on the side of the road in the morning. He wouldn’t see another sunrise if you did nothing.

And you refused— refused— to let Eddie lose the only family he had left.

Your words echoed around the trailer park like a gunshot, and you heard Wayne inhale sharply before he glanced back up at you. At first, his eyes were wide with surprise, but as the seconds ticked by, they narrowed with suspicion, then anger.

“Young lady, Ed might have loved you, but don’t you lie--”

“I’m not lying,” you said, your mind putting together sentences as you went. “I’m not… saying this out of pity or to hurt you. It’s the truth. A very crazy, impossible, miraculous truth, but it’s still the truth. I swear it on… on my love for Eddie.”

Some of the anger faded from Wayne’s blue eyes, but not the skepticism, and it was soon joined by a hint of concern.

“Sweetheart,” the older Munson said, sounding so much like Eddie that it almost hurt. His eyes skipped over you, taking in your cast, your skinned knees, the clothes that you wore to bed. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Last night,” you responded truthfully. “Nearly eight hours. And I ate a full breakfast not even an hour ago. I’m not sleep deprived, Mr. Munson. I’m not hallucinating or crazy or delirious from hunger. Eddie is alive. He’s currently at my house with some friends. Do you remember Dustin Henderson? Curly-haired boy who approached you in the gym a few days ago?”

“Yes…” Wayne said with a frown.

“Well, he’s one of the people with Eddie right now.”

Wayne’s frown only deepened. “No, that boy— he said Ed was…”

“I know,” you cut in, wincing. “Dustin wasn’t lying. At the time. He— we all thought Eddie was… gone. But then he came back. He was injured and… different, but alive. I— he’s the reason I came looking for you. He wanted me to check in on you.”

That part wasn’t entirely true— you were the one to suggest bringing Wayne breakfast— but it sounded plausible, and you hoped it would be enough to convince the older man of your sincerity.

Wayne continued to stare at you for what felt like an endless stretch of time. He didn’t blink, barely seemed to breathe, and as the seconds dragged by, the skepticism in his battered face began to fade. Finally, he dragged his tongue over his split and cracked lips and sucked in a deep breath.

“Ed…” Wayne started, paused, took another deep breath. “Ed is… alive? You’re saying he’s actually alive?”

“Yes.” You nodded and braced yourself as the older Munson began to breathe more heavily, until he was almost panting.

“No,” he muttered as he shook his head. “No, no, he’s— if he’s alive, why wouldn’t he come find me? Why— why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“Well,” you said with another wince, “it’s complicated. Very complicated actually. But the short version is… he was scared. There are some things we don’t understand yet, about how he… came back, and Eddie didn’t want to put you in any danger. Besides, the townsfolk obviously haven’t moved on yet, so Eddie can’t just go walking through Hawkins.”

For a lot of reasons, but Eddie being a wanted man was an easier pill to swallow than him being some kind of vampire/demo-bat hybrid. You were going to have to drop that bomb gently. If that was even possible.

Wayne continued to stare at you as his breathing devolved into gasping, and before you could try and calm him down, the older man was rocketing to his feet.

“Take— take me to him,” he gasped, still clutching the pistol in white-knuckled fists. “I-If Ed is alive, you need to take me to him. Right now. I need— need to see him. I—”

Wayne suddenly swayed and went a little cross-eyed, and you leapt up just in time to catch him. He sagged against your shoulder, barely able to keep upright, and you inhaled sharply and held it when you felt the cold barrel of the revolver press into your belly.

“Whoa there, it’s okay, take a deep breath,” you muttered as you tried to hold the older man up while arching your lower half away from him. “I’ll… I’ll take you to him. Alright, Mr. Munson? I’ll take you to see Eddie. But first, you have to give me the gun. Okay?”

Wayne panted raggedly into your shoulder, but he took some of his weight off you, and when you stepped back half a step, he remained standing on his own. He was staring down at the pistol he was still clutching in his shaking hands, and you angled your body away from the barrel. When he didn’t say anything, you hesitantly reached for the gun, and Wayne didn’t stop you as you gently extracted it from his suddenly lax fingers.

Once you had the gun in your possession, relief nearly made your knees buckle, but you still took a moment to pop open the cylinder and double check that the revolver was in fact not loaded. It wasn’t, and you sent out a prayer of gratitude to the universe.

“Okay,” you breathed, snapping the cylinder back into place and then shoving the gun into the waistband of your shorts, the metal cold against the small of your back.

Then you looked up to find Wayne staring at you with an achingly familiar lost expression. He and Eddie might not share the same color eyes, but something in the set of them— or the pain in their depths— was similar. You tried for a reassuring smile, but now that the immediate danger had faded, your heart began to race for a different reason altogether.

Because, fuck, what were you supposed to do now?

“Okay,” you said again in an effort to kick start your brain into thinking of solutions, of your next course of action. Wayne was still staring at you, but your eyes clicked over his bruises, the blood on his shirt, and you just started thinking out loud. “W-Well, first thing’s first, we need to clean you up a little bit. I, um, have a first aid kit and a new shirt in the car.”

“I-I don’t need a new shirt.” Wayne frowned. “I need to see Ed.”

“I know,” you sighed as you dragged a hand through your hair. “I know, and I promise to take you to him. But I need to clean you up first. You can’t see him while you’re actively bleeding. And this isn’t just for your own good. It’s for Eddie’s, too.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Wayne asked, and you could see he was getting frustrated with you now, but also what could you say?

Oh, sorry, your nephew is a blood thirsty vampire now.

“It’s… complicated,” you said instead, repeating your earlier words. “And I know that word seems meaningless, but to explain the whole story, I’d need about an hour and a bottle of whiskey. Since neither of us want to be here that long, give me five minutes to clean you up, and I’ll give you the abridged version on the drive back to my house. Deal?”

Wayne pursed his lips and glanced at the car like he was considering just hopping in the driver’s seat, but after a moment, he turned back to you.

“Whatever gets me to Ed faster,” he grunted.

“Thank you.” You smiled gratefully before leading him back to your car and popping the trunk.

Given all the shit that routinely went down in Hawkins, you’d taken to keeping a ‘go-bag’ in the trunk of your car. It contained several outfits, a first aid kit, a flare gun, a water canteen, compass, and a rather large hunting knife. Wayne didn’t say anything as you dug around for the first aid kit, and he obediently sat on your bumper as you quickly wiped alcohol pads across his face and the back of his head. The older man winced in pain but didn’t make any noises while you bandaged him to the best of your abilities, and when you were done, he silently accepted the pullover sweatshirt you handed to him.

“I think my friend Steve is around your size, so this should fit,” you told Wayne as he inspected the baby-blue colored sweater.

“It’s fine… thank you,” he muttered before he stood, turned his back to you, and stripped off his blood-stained flannel and undershirt. He tossed them into the trunk and then slowly pulled the sweater on, but he suddenly hissed in pain.

“Are you okay?” you asked, starting to walk around him, but he spun to face you and tugged the sweater down in the same movement.

“Fine,” Wayne said through gritted teeth, but you saw the way he was favoring his right side. You’d adopted the same hunched posture when Jason Carver kicked your ribs in, and you narrowed your eyes at the older man.

“Mr. Munson—”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, his tone sharper, but then regret immediately flickered across his face. “I’m sorry, I… I just need to see Ed. I’m fine, honest to god. It’s just some bruises. No blood.”

You pursed your lips, biting back the urge to make him lift the sweater again. But desperation was clear under the bruises on Wayne’s face, and you knew if he didn’t see Eddie soon, he was going to have an aneurysm or heart attack.

“Alright,” you relented as you reached up to shut the trunk, wincing at the twinge in your own ribs. “I’ll, um, drive you. We can come back for your truck later, if that’s okay.”

Wayne nodded mutely before he turned and made his way to the passenger side of your vehicle, and you took a deep breath as you looked up at the midday sky, praying for strength.

When you finally slid into the driver’s seat, Wayne was sitting awkwardly to your right, staring down at the foil covered plate he’d set in his lap.

“Oh, that’s, uh, your breakfast,” you said lamely. “It’s cold now, but we can, um, warm it up when we get to my house.”

“After I see Ed.” Wayne cut a sharp glance at you, and you could see the doubt in his eyes, see that he still didn’t truly believe you. But he was desperate and grieving, and a flicker of false hope was better than no hope at all.

“After you see Eddie.” You nodded, reaching for the ignition to restart the car. As the engine rumbled to life, an idea occurred to you. It would hopefully erase any of Wayne’s doubts and also give some forewarning to the people hanging out in your living room. Gathering your courage, you cleared your throat and pointed to the walkie on the floorboards between Wayne’s feet. “Actually, could you hand me that?”

Wayne hissed again as he bent over and picked the device up, and you frowned in sympathy as he handed it to you.

“Thanks,” you murmured before you took a deep breath and clicked the talk button. “Hey, guys. Just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back. Leaving Forest Hills now. We should be there in about five minutes.”

Static was your only response for a moment, then…

“Roger that, sweetheart,” Eddie’s chipper voice said, ripping a ragged gasp from Wayne, but Eddie was speaking again before his uncle could catch his breath. “Can’t wait to see you, these goblins are driving me up the damn wall, I— wait. Why were you at the trailer park? And… did you say, ‘we?’”

The minor spike of fear in his tone made you flinch, but then Wayne was suddenly lunging toward you.

“Ed!” he gasped and tried to rip the walkie from your hands, but you leaned back against your window, switching the device off and shoving it into the pocket on the driver’s side door.

“Wait, Mr. Munson—”

“That was Ed!” the older man cut you off, his eyes wild, and he looked like he was going to climb over you regardless to reach the walkie. “T-That was him, he—”

“I know,” you interjected, raising your hands to halfheartedly ward him off. “I know, but he… like I said, it’s complicated. Eddie is going to be upset that I told you the truth, and I don’t want him freaking out and trying to run before we get there.”

“Run?” Wayne echoed incredulously. “Why would he run from me? And why would Ed be upset that you told me he’s alive? Isn’t that why you came to find me?”

You flinched guiltily and averted your eyes. “Not… exactly. Look, I’ll really explain everything, I promise, but let’s get back to the house first. Okay?”

Wayne gritted his teeth, his desire for answers raging war with his desire to see his nephew. In the end, his nephew won.

“Fine, start drivin’,” the older Munson grunted, yanking on his seatbelt.

You nodded shakily, taking the steering wheel in your sweaty palms and putting the car in reverse. Silence enveloped the vehicle as you backed up and slowly drove out of the trailer park, but Wayne’s leg started bouncing, making the foil-covered plate crinkle in his lap.

As you pulled out on the main road, you knew you only had a few minutes to get the older man prepared for what he was about to witness, so you took a deep breath before you began.

“Okay, there are a few important things we need to discuss before we get there,” you said as you stared resolutely out the windshield. “I— by now, I’m sure you noticed Hawkins is not like any other small towns. There’s something different here, something—”

“Cursed,” Wayne cut in, and when you glanced at him, you saw his expression was dark.

“Yes, cursed is a good way to put it,” you agreed. “There’s a lot of backstory that goes into this, and I know how crazy it sounds, but basically, there is a shadow world that exists adjacent to Hawkins. It looks like a dark reflection of our town. Dilapidated buildings, cracked roads, never-ending night. That kind of thing.”

“Sounds like one of Ed’s make believe games,” Wayne said with a furrowed brow and a heavy dose of skepticism.

“Yeah, it does,” you laughed, the sound edged with hysteria. “It’s fucking bonkers, if you’ll pardon the language. But it’s true. The shadow world exists. We’ve been calling it the Upside Down. And while the place itself is mildly terrifying, the monsters that live there are far worse.”

“Monsters?” Wayne echoed, and in your peripherals, you could see him turn to look at you. “Wait… is that what’s been killing kids the last few years?”

“Yes.” You nodded, tightening your grip on the steering wheel as you thought of the Mind Flayer and all the demo-creatures you’d faced. “My friends and I… we’ve managed to stop them before, but they keep coming back. When things got really bad this time, we decided to go into the Upside Down, try to take out the monsters before they could swallow Hawkins. We only partially succeeded, as you can see.”

As you made a turn, you gestured out the window to the jagged gash bisecting the road you’d just turned off of.

“The… lead monster,” you went on, “he was stronger than we anticipated. We weren’t able to fully stop him. He opened gates between our world and the Upside Down— that’s what all the sinkholes are. He also… nearly killed one of our friends. She hasn’t woken up yet.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Wayne said, and while he did sound sorry, there was a hint of impatience to his words. “But what’s any of this got to do with Ed?”

“A lot, actually,” you sighed as you propped your left hand against the window and rubbed at your temple. “He… he was with us when we were trying to stop the bad guy. The head monster was the one who killed that Cunningham girl in your trailer. Eddie saw it happen, so he wanted to help us get justice. But he got… hurt in the Upside Down. I wasn’t with him, but he was attacked by monsters, and Dustin said he saw Eddie… die.”

“But he didn’t,” Wayne corrected, flinging out an arm and pointing at your door. “I-I heard him on the walkie. He’s alive.”

“Yes,” you confirmed and felt your heartrate increase as you turned into your neighborhood. “He showed up at my house last night, and I thought I was dreaming at first, but I wasn’t. Eddie is alive, but he looks… different. I-It might scare you at first.”

“Ed doesn’t have a scary bone in his body,” Wayne said and frowned at you in your peripherals. “But… what? You’re trying to tell me he’s a monster? Town’s been saying that for days. Nothing new.”

“I agree the town’s full of shit. Eddie’s not a monster… but he does look a little like the creatures that attacked him in the Upside Down. He’s got… wings. And claws. And sharpened teeth. But he’s still Eddie! I promise, he might not look the same, but he is on the inside. He’s the same kind, golden-hearted boy I fell in love with, the same boy you raised.”

Wayne was silent for so long after your declaration that you couldn’t help but look over at him. He was staring out the windshield with a furrowed brow, the plate of food clutched in his lap. All this information was definitely a lot to process, but you were quickly approaching your street, so you needed to say one last thing.

“It’ll be a shock at first,” you began tentatively, “but… I need you to try and be as calm as possible when you see Eddie. Don’t rush him, or yell at him, or try and hurt him—”

“I would never hurt Ed,” Wayne cut you off, his words sharp and strong. “I… I could never raise a hand against him.”

Something in his tone made you dart another glance in his direction. The guilt in his expression surprised you, but then you suddenly remembered Eddie’s dad had not been a good guy. You were still shocked by the revelation that Eddie was the boy from your favorite childhood memory, but you could still recall in startling clarity the shiner marring his young, pale face that day in the woods.

But Wayne wasn’t his brother. Of that, you were sure of.

“I know,” you murmured reassuringly, absently flicking on your blinker as you turned onto your street. “And thank you, Mr. Munson.”

The older man was quiet as you slowly coasted up to the curb in front of your house, but when you put the car in park, he spoke up again.

“Wayne. You can… you can call me Wayne.”

“Okay, Wayne,” you said and turned to him with a faint smile. He looked a little nauseous, his leg bouncing anxiously once again, and you could sympathize. Your whole body was slick with a cold sweat, and it felt like your heart was going to crawl up your throat. “Are you ready?”

The question was for both yourself and the older Munson.

Wayne took a deep breath and nodded. “Take me to Ed.”

You nodded in return, and then the two of you exited the vehicle. Wayne was still carrying the plate of food like he didn’t know what to do with it, so you gently took it before gesturing for him to follow you up the sidewalk.

“Please don’t hate me, Eddie,” you whispered under your breath, knowing he could hear you from inside the house. “I had no choice. But it’ll be okay. I promise.”

As if in response, the front door opened just as you reached the bottom of the porch steps, and then Nancy was staring down at you with wide, wild eyes, Jonathan hovering nervously behind her shoulder.

“Heyyyy,” Nancy said with a plastic smile, and her gaze bounced from you to Wayne and back at again. “We were, um, just starting to wonder where you were. Is… everything okay?”

“Hopefully.” Your own smile was shaky as you gestured to Wayne behind you. “Nancy, this is Eddie’s uncle. Wayne, this is one of my friends, Nancy Wheeler.”

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Munson,” Nancy muttered, but she was still staring at you with that forced, happy expression. “Will he be, um… joining us?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Wayne beat you to it.

“I’m here to see Ed,” he said as he stepped up beside you. “I’ve been told he’s alive, and I wanna see him. So if you would kindly move aside, young lady, I’d appreciate it.”

“Oh,” Nancy breathed, glancing at you with a panicked glint in her eyes. “I don’t—”

“Nancy, it’s okay,” you interrupted and hoped you weren’t lying. “I already… explained some things to Wayne. He knows the situation.”

That did nothing to lessen the panicked look on Nancy’s face. In fact, now she was staring at you with an expression that silently demanded to know why Wayne knew the situation, but you didn’t have the time or patience for this right now. You knew Eddie was probably freaking out, most likely hiding in the bathroom, and the urge to go to him was so great it almost hurt. You weren’t about to spend the next ten minutes arguing with Nancy Wheeler on your porch.

So, you climbed up the few steps, and when you reached the front door and gave Nancy a pointed look, she sighed and shifted back into the house.

You stepped into the living room with Wayne close on your heels, and the kids all flashed wide, forced grins from where they were seated on the couch. Nancy quietly shut the door behind Wayne before she went to stand next to Jonathan near the kitchen, and for a moment, the house was deafeningly silent.

“Heyyy, Obi!” Dustin was the first to speak, his voice high-pitched and overly excited, but his face was pale, and his eyes kept darting toward the hallway.

Mike, El, Lucas, and Will all muttered their own greetings, still with those creepy smiles affixed to their faces, but they were also very blatantly staring at Wayne over your shoulder.

“Hey, guys,” you sighed, walking forward to set the plate of cold food on the coffee table. “So… where is he? The bedroom?”

“He who?” Dustin squeaked. “You mean S-Steve? He and Robin went to get some movies—”

“I’m not talking about Steve. I’m talking about Eddie.”

Everyone in the room tensed in unison, and Dustin shot another quick glance at the hallway before he turned back to you and barked out a noise that was half laugh, half gasp.

“E-Eddie?” he echoed as he stared at you with a bewildered, pleading expression. “Obi, you know he’s—”

“I don’t have time for this,” Wayne grunted and stepped forward. He pinned the kids on the couch with a hard stare, and Dustin gulped as they all leaned back into the cushions. “Where is Ed?”

“I think I know,” you murmured, gently placing your hand on Wayne’s arm and making him look at you. “I’ll, um, go get him. Could you just… stay here for a moment?”

Wayne frowned, the livid bruises on his face shifting like mercury, and you knew he was going to argue.

“Please,” you added with a hint of desperation. “Just one minute. I swear to you this is not a joke or a trick. You’ll see Eddie. I just need a minute to talk with him. Alone.”

It felt like the whole room held its breath as Wayne stared at you unblinkingly, but finally, he pursed his lips and jerked his chin down in a singular nod.

“One minute,” he repeated as his pale eyes bored into yours.

“One minute.” You nodded shakily, moving toward the hallway, but you only made it several feet from the living room before footsteps pounded after you.

“Obi!” Dustin hissed, latched onto your arm, and jerked you to a stop, forcing you to face him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I would also like to know the answer to this,” Nancy added in an undertone as she came up behind Dustin.

Over her shoulder, you could see Jonathan smiling painfully at Wayne— who you couldn’t see from this angle— and you knew the other kids were probably doing the same from the couch.

“Look, my minute’s running out, I don’t have time to explain,” you muttered as you reached behind your back. “You just have to trust me. Also, Wheeler, I need you to hide this somewhere. Don’t worry, it’s not loaded.”

Nancy blinked as you slapped the empty pistol into her hands. “I— what?”

“What the shittttt?” Dustin gaped at the gun, but you had already wasted enough time, so you pivoted on heel and strode the rest of the way down the hall.

Your own bedroom door was open, which meant Eddie was in the master. You paused momentarily to knock but didn’t wait for a response before slipping into the room.

“Eddie?” you murmured, but unlike last time, you didn’t have to go looking for him.

A looming shadow stood at the foot of the bed, and black eyes glinted in the light that crept in from the hallway. Eddie was standing there stiff as a board, his breathing ragged, his wings flared out. His expression was confused and hurt and scared, and he made a quiet whimpering sound as you closed the door behind you.

“Obi,” he choked out. “What’re doing? He can’t—”

“I know, I know,” you said as you rushed forward without thinking.

When you were only a few feet away from him, he flinched, his nostrils flaring, and the veins around his eyes became a little more prominent.

“Shit, sorry,” you gasped and skidded to a stop. Eddie was staring at you with a mixture of hunger and betrayal, and you wanted to throw yourself at his feet and beg for forgiveness, but there was no time. “I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I-I had to tell him the truth. I had to.”

Eddie blinked and furrowed his brow like he was having trouble concentrating on what you were saying. His wings trembled behind him, and when he took his next breath, it was through his mouth.

“Why…” he started and then had to swallow thickly, his eyes darkening further in the shadowed bedroom. “Why the hell do you smell like blood, Obi? W-Why can I smell Uncle Wayne’s?”

“A lot of things happened, but I’ll explain them later, because Wayne’s going to come barging in here any second,” you said quickly, nearly panting from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. “Do you need to e-eat before you see him?”

You offered out your arm thoughtlessly, but now Eddie took a step back, shaking his head as he glanced from you to the bedroom door. The hunger in his face was quickly giving way to fear, and his wings curled around him like a shield.

“N-No,” he muttered, still shaking his head. “No, I can’t see him. I-It’s not like with Dustin, Wayne won’t understand. Obi, you have to make him leave—”

“I can’t,” you said desperately, and tears welled up in your eyes. “He’s… he’s in bad shape, and he needs to see you. I explained the important parts to him: that you look different but are still you. It’ll be okay. He just wants to see you, Eddie. Please.”

Eddie stared at you as he continued to pant for breath, but then he flinched, eyes darting to the bedroom door again. You could hear the low murmur of voices from the living room, knew Nancy and the others were trying to keep Wayne back, and the panicked look on Eddie’s face only confirmed it.

“Fuck!” he cursed, then with more feeling as his wide, terrified eyes snapped back to yours. “Fuck. S-Shit, I need—”

“Take whatever you need,” you said as you shoved your arm at him again.

Eddie looked conflicted for a split second, but then he dove forward, clawed fingers wrapping around your bicep and wrist as he brought your forearm to his mouth. His cool breath washed over your skin, followed by the hot press of his fangs, and you hissed as the initial burn lanced up your arm. It faded just as quickly as it appeared, and Eddie groaned before he started to pull your blood into his mouth. Your brain went a little fuzzy, a dull, throbbing pleasure pulsing up your arm and through your body, and Eddie seemed to be in a similar trance, sighing and whimpering and slurping against you.

You were both so enthralled that neither of you heard the shouts coming down the hallway until the bedroom door slammed open behind you.

“Ed!” Wayne’s voice ricocheted around the small room like a bullet, and Eddie ripped himself away from you, whirling around and flaring out his wings to hide.

“Wayne!” you gasped and spun to face him, keeping your right arm tucked behind you and smearing Eddie’s saliva into the back of your shirt. “I told you to—”

“Jesus,” the older man cut you off, the word no louder than a breath. He wasn’t even looking at you. His wide eyes were trained over your shoulder, locked on Eddie, and he looked a little green beneath his bruises. “Is… is that you, Ed?”

You stood protectively between the two Munsons, glancing from the older to the younger. Eddie’s back was to you as he tried to press himself into the corner, and you could tell by the way his wings were trembling that he was holding back tears.

“Y-You shouldn’t be here, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie choked out from within the shroud of his wings. “You don’t… don’t want to see me like this.”

At the sound of Eddie’s voice, Wayne made a strangled sound, tears immediately coursing down his cheeks. He took a stumbling step forward, then another, but you slid into his path, making him stop at the foot of the bed. The older man looked angry for a brief moment, but you made a placating gesture, motioning to where Eddie was still cowering in the corner. Wayne seemed to recompose himself then, taking a deep breath as he swiped at the tears dripping through his scruffy beard.

“Ed,” he rasped, but when his nephew just flinched and ducked more under his wings, Wayne raised his voice. “Ed, look at me.”

Still, nothing, but through a gap in his wings, you could see Eddie shake his head.

Wayne’s face hardened slightly. “Edward Munson, I saw you the minute you slid out of your mama, God rest her soul. And I… I’ve loved you like you were my own every minute since. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you look like. Just… let me see ya. Please.”

Silence enveloped the bedroom for a moment. Over Wayne’s shoulder, you could see Nancy, Jonathan, and the kids hovering in the hallway, their anxious expressions mirror images of each other. Dustin caught your eye with a desperate look, asking you what to do without words, but you didn’t have an answer for him.

Instead, you glanced back at Eddie, and you held your breath as you watched his wings slowly start to lower. First, his mane of hair was revealed, then his shoulders, and finally his arms as the leathery appendages collapsed against his spine. He seemed to take a deep breath before he turned around, but it still took him another moment to lift his head. Thankfully, he’d wiped your blood from his lips, but his fangs were put on display as his jaw fell open in shock.

“Fuck,” Eddie gasped when he caught sight of his uncle, who inhaled sharply as he finally saw his nephew in full. “W-Wayne, what the hell happened to your face?”

The older Munson barked out an incredulous laugh, his eyes wide but only slightly terrified as they skipped over Eddie’s imposing figure.

“I-I could ask you the same thing,” Wayne said, and Eddie flinched, his wings rising up again to curl over his shoulders.

“Shit, yeah, I know, i-it’s a lot,” Eddie muttered and dropped his gaze. “Sor—”

“I don’t care,” Wayne cut his nephew off, which made Eddie glance back up at him. The older man swallowed audibly, and tears started to well in his eyes again. “It doesn’t matter what you look like— it’s never mattered to me. You’re my boy, and I love you. I-I’m sorry if I never said it enough, but I do. Raising you was the best thing I ever did, and I’m just so goddamn grateful you’re al— alive.”

His voice cracked like porcelain around the last word, and he pressed a hand to his mouth like he could shove down the sobs that were rattling in the back of his throat. Then Wayne drew in a shuddering breath, which Eddie copied, and the Munsons began to lean towards each other like they were drawn by magnets.

“I’m… gonna hug you now, Ed,” Wayne said haltingly before he shot you a hesitant glance. “If you’ll call off your guard dog.”

Eddie snorted, and you smiled in what you hoped was a friendly manner, but you still shot a questioning glance at the younger Munson for confirmation.

“It’s okay, Obi,” Eddie said with a small smile of his own.

That smile snipped the last threads of tension in your body, and you sighed as you moved out of the way, heading for the door. When you reached it, you looked back just in time to see Wayne lunge at Eddie and envelop him in a tight embrace. Eddie clutched his uncle just as tightly, burying his face in the older man’s shoulder, and another crack in your heart stitched itself together as you softly closed the bedroom door to give the two men some privacy.

You turned around to see all of your friends smiling tentatively, and you returned the gesture right before your stomach gave a sudden lurch. Saliva abruptly pooled in your mouth, so you scrambled past everyone and stumbled into the hall bathroom, falling to your knees on the cold tile seconds before your stomach emptied it contents.

Not wanting to disturb the Munsons, you tried to keep quiet, and thankfully the spell seemed to pass relatively quickly. When you were done, you flushed with shaking fingers, stood up, and turned to the sink. Dustin hovered nervously in the doorway while you rinsed out your mouth, and you caught his eye in the mirror as you spat out a mixture of mouthwash and toothpaste.

“I’m okay, kiddo,” you said, trying to reassure Dustin as much as yourself. “I’ve just had an… exciting morning. Probably just need to sit down.”

“I’ll help you,” the boy offered and extended his arm. “Come on.”

Part of you wanted to refuse, say you could walk on your own, but you could see the desperation to do something in Dustin’s gaze, so you relented.

“Thank you.” You smiled tiredly, took his arm, and let him lead you back to the living room, where everyone else was already waiting.

You collapsed on the couch and closed your eyes, tilting your head back to face the ceiling, but you could feel everyone staring at you intently. After nearly a full minute, the sensation and silence grew grating, and you sighed.

“If someone could bring me a glass of water and like some toast or something, I’ll answer your questions,” you said without opening your eyes.

There was a quick whispered argument, followed by the sound of people shoving each other, and when you finally lifted your head, you saw Nancy pushing Mike to get up, even though Dustin was already halfway to the kitchen.

“I got it,” the curly-haired boy called over his shoulder, and a few moments later, he returned with the water and a sleeve of saltine crackers you didn’t even know you had.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you accepted the items. You drank the water first, draining half the glass before you set it on the coffee table and pulled out a cracker to nibble on.

But everyone was still staring at you expectantly, so you decided to just bite the bullet.

“Okay, to make things simpler, let me give you the main points first. I went to the high school to find Wayne, but some of the resident fucking assholes had… run him off.”

“Is that what happened to his…” Dustin trailed off, gesturing to his face.

You nodded, and everyone’s expression grew tight with anger, even though only Nancy and Dustin had previously met the older Munson.

“How did you get blood on your cast?” Eleven suddenly interjected, which drew everyone’s gaze to your arm. The white plaster was speckled with dried blood, but there was also a sizable red stain where you had slammed it into the blond bastard’s mouth. “Did you beat up the… resident assholes?”

You didn’t exactly feel guilty about what you’d done, but you also didn’t want to confess how satisfactory it had been to put that fucker in his place. You were probably a bad enough influence on these kids as it was.

“Yeah, I had a small… altercation with someone at the high school,” you said carefully, tucking your cast between your legs. You could see more questions building up in your friends’ faces, so you tried to preemptively answer them. “But I’m okay. I wasn’t even hurt. I actually just sucker punched the guy and then got the hell out of there. Some people did see me, though, sooo we might have a visit from the police, but I doubt it since they have enough on their plates as it is.”

“Damn,” Lucas muttered with wide eyes.

“Bitchin’.” Eleven smiled, which made Nancy frown at you.

“Anyway…” You cleared your throat. “After I left the school, I went looking for Wayne and found him at the trailer park. He was… very upset. About the trailer, about Eddie. I-I couldn’t just leave him like that. I was afraid he might do something… drastic.”

You met Nancy’s eyes and saw the understanding in them. She also saw the question in yours— was the gun safe?— and she nodded subtly.

Thank fucking Christ.  

“Sooo, uh, what exactly did you tell Mr. Munson?” Mike asked, and you saw him glance nervously at El. “Like… everything?”

“Not everything.” You shook your head. “I just told him that the Upside Down exists, monsters live there, and we’ve been trying to stop them. That’s about all I had time for. And I’m sorry I sprang this on all you guys. I know we should have talked about it beforehand, about bringing someone else into all this bullshit. But…”

“There wasn’t time, we understand,” Will finished for you, and you sent him a soft, grateful smile.  

“Yeah, it’s okay, Obi,” Dustin added from where he was sitting beside you on the couch. “We’re just… happy things turned out alright.”

“God, me too,” you groaned and spent a minute finishing off your water and scarfing down a couple crackers.

“You know, to his credit, Mr. Munson is handling things much better than some other people have,” Nancy abruptly said with a faint smirk.

“Do you mean Steve?” Dustin snickered. “He did yelp when he saw Eddie. He also fell on his ass.”

“Seriously?” Lucas snorted. “Mike and I at least stayed upright.”

“I do remember Steve’s voice going particularly high-pitched that night at your house,” Nancy said as she looked at Jonathan. “When we set the traps for the Demogorgon.”

“To be fair, he did stick around and help us kick its ass,” Jonathan laughed. “That definitely gives him some points.”

“It does,” Nancy said, her smile going a little fond, but that wasn’t any of your business.

“But Eddie’s not even half as scary as a Demogorgon,” Mike scoffed and rolled his eyes, to which El nodded seriously. “So Steve loses a few points there.”

“Hey, I heard that, Wheeler Junior.”

You looked up to see Eddie standing at the end of the hall, with Wayne hovering just behind him.

The younger Munson narrowed his eyes at Mike and bared his fangs, and he did look rather intimidating for a moment. But then he glanced at you, and the faux snarl melted into a familiar goofy grin that still managed to steal your breath away.

It had been about ten minutes since you’d last seen the Munsons, but already they looked much better. Eddie was smiling, and Wayne seemed happy if confused. The bruises and cuts on his face were also gone, and Dustin seemed to notice at the same time you did.

“I see Magic Spit has come to the rescue yet again,” the kid said with a grin.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but his grayish cheeks darkened slightly, and Wayne looked a little uncomfortable as he shifted from foot to foot behind his nephew.

“Shut up, Henderson,” Eddie muttered before a familiar, excited smirk tugged at his mouth. “You know, I was gonna tell you about the cool new thing I learned, but never mind now.”

“No, wait, what did you learn?” Dustin asked as he leaned forward eagerly, and Mike and Lucas seemed similarly intrigued.

Eddie tapped a single claw against his lips and narrowed his eyes in consideration, and after he dragged out the moment to his satisfaction, he finally sighed.

“Ohhh, nothing,” he said with a shrug. “Just that Magic Spit works even if I put it on a towel first.”

“Whoaaa, so transfer doesn’t weaken it?” Dustin mused. “Do you think we could bottle it? Would the healing properties be preserved?”

“That could be useful,” Mike said, his eyes gleaming excitedly. “Like a potion of healing.”

“That is something from Dungeons and Dragons, yes?” Eleven asked as she cocked her head.

“Yeah,” Will answered her since the other boys were caught up in their own discussion.

“This Magic Spit stuff seems pretty powerful,” Lucas said, and he stared at Wayne for a moment before he glanced back at Mike and Dustin. “We could stock up, each have our own jars. It could definitely come in handy.”

You wondered if he was thinking about Max but quickly shoved the thought away.

“Hmm, that’s a lot of spit.” Eddie frowned contemplatively and rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Buttttttt I think I can do it. Obi, you got any jars?”

“Uhhhh, is this stuff… normal for you kids?” Wayne spoke up from behind Eddie.

“Yes,” everyone said in unison, and the older Munson’s bewildered expression almost made you laugh.

Eddie snickered and walked over to sit beside you on the couch, the kids scootching down or shifting to the floor to make room. After a moment of hesitation, Wayne approached David’s recliner, and you nodded at him encouragingly until he sat down with a sigh. Seeing the older man relax into the plush seat made you smile, but then Eddie shifted into your line of vision with a mischievous smirk.

“So, Obi?” he asked, leaning into your personal space until his cold breath brushed your cheek. “Do you have some jars or not?”  

“I’m not letting you fill all of my Tupperware with your spit, Munson,” you said with a roll of your eyes, and you pushed his face away until he was leaning back onto the sofa’s armrest, only a foot or so away from his uncle, who was staring at Eddie with a misty smile.

“Awww, come on, Obi,” Dustin cajoled from your other side. “It’s for science!”

“Yeah, sweetheart, for science.” Eddie grinned, but then he blinked and glanced at the front door.

“What?” you asked, heart stuttering with alarm.

Before Eddie could answer, Steve’s muffled voice filtered into your living room from outside.

“Robin, slow down, you’re going to drop everything!”

You heard Robin laugh just before she pounded up the porch steps, flinging open the door with a triumphant smile and nearly dropping the multiple pizza boxes she was holding.

“I win!” she declared over her shoulder. “Take that for uncoordinated, Steve.”

Then she turned back to the living room and stepped inside, but she and the smile on her face immediately froze at the sight of Wayne in the recliner.

“Uhhhh,” Robin said with wide eyes, but she was interrupted as Steve came up behind her.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, you win, could you move now?” he grumbled, juggling what looked like several movies and a case of beer. He shoved into Robin’s shoulder, but when she still didn’t move, he looked up with a scowl. Then he also saw Wayne and stilled like a deer caught in headlights. “Uhhhhhh…”

“You’re letting the cold air out, guys,” you teased but made a face when you realized you sounded like your mother.

Robin blinked and then stuttered into motion again, nearly dropping the pizzas. “S-Shit, yeah, okay, let me just— I’ll, uh, just put these down right… here.”

She stumbled over to the coffee table and unceremoniously dumped the pizza onto the wooden surface. Her eyes flickered to Wayne again before she snapped upright and moved back toward Steve, who was still gaping from the doorway.

“Need a hand there, Harrington?” Eddie asked with a smirk.

Eddie’s voice seemed to snap Steve out of it, and he shook his head as he slowly kicked the door shut behind him. His gaze kept jumping from Eddie, to Wayne, then to you, and his mouth opened and closed several times as he searched for something to say.

Surprisingly, Wayne beat him to it.

“Is that beer?” the older Munson grunted from the recliner.

Steve jumped, and his wide eyes fell to the case of beer that was tucked under his arm. You thought he looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Which, technically, you guessed he was, because no one in the room except Wayne was over the drinking age.

“Uhh, n-no, well, yes,” Steve stuttered. “I mean, I wasn’t— we weren’t— I can… get rid of it?”

A moment of tense silence passed, but when you looked at Eddie, he just winked and settled his clawed hand over your knee. You immediately relaxed under his touch before you glanced back at his uncle, who was staring at a rapidly paling Steve.

Finally, Wayne scoffed. “Not before you give me one. It’s been a hell of a damn morning.”

Steve blinked and then fumbled to set the movies and beer down, ripping open the cardboard and pulling out a can with shaking fingers.

“Yeah, sure, um, here,” he muttered as he walked the can over to Wayne, who nodded in gratitude.

“Thank you,” he said and cracked open the beer, but he paused, squinting up at Steve before taking a sip. “Ain’t you the Harrington boy?”

“Y-Yes, sir.” Steve swallowed and shifted uncomfortably.

“And you’ve been helping Ed out with all this… shadow world shit?”

If possible, Steve’s eyes widened even further, flicking over the rest of the group. “Uh… yes?”

“Hmm,” Wayne said as he took another sip of beer. “Interesting.”

“Right?” Eddie snickered from beside you, breaking the tension in the room like a balloon being popped. “That was the most surprising thing to me, too. Evil monsters and alternate dimensions? Okay, sure. Steve Harrington being the epic hero keeping back the darkness while not being a douchebag? When pigs fucking fly, I thought. But Stevie here is full of surprises, ain’t ya, Stevie?”

“Shut the hell up, Munson,” Steve muttered as his whole face flared red, but then his wide eyes shot to Wayne. “I-I mean Eddie… Munson, sir, not, uh, you.”  

“Aww, you made him blush,” Robin cooed, walking up behind Steve and pinching his cheeks until he batted her away.

“You’re all gonna make my hair go gray,” he huffed, which made everyone laugh.

With that, the remaining tension in the room— which mainly came from Steve— dissipated, and the kids dove for the pizza like you hadn’t fed them a breakfast buffet merely hours ago. As everyone settled around the coffee table, Eddie introduced Wayne to the group, and the older Munson nodded, asking questions here and there about how they all met his nephew. No one particularly wanted to talk about the Upside Down or Vecna, but Wayne had some general questions, which you and the others answered to the best of your abilities. In the end, Wayne kind of just shrugged and opened another beer, saying he didn’t care about the rest of the details as long as Eddie was alive.

From there, the conversation moved on to lighter topics, and Robin even shoved a movie into your TV to play in the background. You couldn’t for the life of you figure out what the plot was because you were paying more attention to the people gathered in your living room. The kids were all happy and smiling, tearing through the pizza, and the older teens lounged on the floor, casually chatting and occasionally making fun of Steve or Robin when they inevitably spilled something on themselves.

To your left, Eddie was half draped over the arm rest as he spoke quietly to Wayne, but the edge of his right wing was curled around you. The appendage was leathery and cool against your skin, but you didn’t mind. You just leaned further into Eddie, sighing softly, and he glanced at you with a smile, his wing curling down over your shoulder until the tip trailed across your lap like a throw blanket.

Suddenly, Wayne let out a stifled snort, which drew Eddie’s attention.

“What’s so funny?” he asked his uncle, who was now hiding half a smile behind his beer.

“Nothin’.” The older Munson shook his head, but Eddie wasn’t letting go that easily.

“Come onnnnn,” he wheedled with a grin. “Share with the class, Uncle Wayne.”

“It’s really nothin’,” the older man said, but a fondness entered his pale eyes as they trailed over you and Eddie. “I was just… do you remember when you were about eight? You found that injured bat outside the trailer. You cried at first, thinking it was dead, but when you realized it wasn’t, you were adamant about nursing it back to health. And damn if you didn’t do just that.”

“Awwww,” you and Dustin— who’d apparently been listening from your other side— chorused, which made Eddie flush and duck his head.

“Okay, maybe you didn’t have to share allll that with the class, Uncle,” he muttered. “Definitely could have left out the crying bit.”

“Sorry,” Wayne said, but his smile said he wasn’t. “The part I was laughing at, though, was the night you released that scrappy son of a bitch. You watched him fly off into the dark, chirpin’ all the while, and you smiled and said you wished you could fly like him.”

“Be careful what you wish for, huh?” Eddie scoffed.

“Well, we technically don’t even know if you can fly yet,” Dustin interjected and shot a pleading glance in your direction.

You narrowed your eyes. “No, Henderson. I already told you. No one is allowed to jump off my roof.”

“Fineeeeee,” the boy sighed before Mike called his name and drew his attention.

You turned back to Eddie to find a dangerous, contemplative look on his face, and you immediately poked your finger into his side.

“I know that look, Munson. There will be no jumping off any roofs. Not mine, not the neighbors’, and not Harrington’s. No roofs.”

A sheepish, guilty smile immediately spread across Eddie’s face, which made Wayne snort into his beer again.

“You’re obviously not gonna pull a fast one over on her, son, so I wouldn’t even try,” he warned his nephew.

“I know,” Eddie said while still smiling at you. “Obi keeps me honest.”

“Definitely a full time job,” you scoffed, turning away from him, but you didn’t think you were quick enough to hide your own smile.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and by the time the sun started to set, the kids were yawning and full of pizza. It took some corralling, but eventually, Steve got Dustin and Robin loaded into his car. He hadn’t even opened any of the beer he’d bought— for some reason too nervous with Wayne sitting in the recliner— so he was sober if a little tired when he slid behind the wheel. Robin, on the other hand, was definitely drunk, and she hung out of the passenger side window waving goodbye as Steve pulled away from the curb. Nancy and Jonathan were both sober as well, so Nancy took Mike and Lucas home, while Jonathan drove Will and El back to their house.

You waved goodbye until their cars turned off your street, and then you slipped back into the living room where the Munsons were waiting. Wayne was standing in front of the recliner, looking awkward in his borrowed blue sweater as he rocked back on his heels. He glanced from his nephew— who was standing equally awkwardly in front of the couch— to you, and back again, and then he cleared his throat.

“Well… guess it’s getting late,” he grunted, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you said with a wince. “If you give me five minutes, I’ll get everything ready for you.”

“You… what?” Wayne frowned, which made you frown in return.

“I’ll get everything ready for you? I just need to put some new sheets on the bed, and I can also find you something to sleep in. I, uh, hope you don’t mind staying in my room. Eddie needs the bigger bed, for his, you know, wings.”

Wayne just blinked at you for what felt like a solid thirty seconds, confusion carved into every line of his face. “You… want me to stay?”

Okay, now you were the one confused.

“Of… course?” you said, brow furrowing. “I just thought— the trailer’s gone, and I really don’t think you should return to the high school, given what those assholes did to you. Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a few days off from the plant, too. But either way, I, uh, just… assumed that Eddie was going to stay here—”

“I am,” Eddie interjected immediately, easily, which made you smile at him.

“Right.” You nodded and turned back to his uncle. “So if Eddie’s staying, the offer obviously extends to you, too, Mr. Mu— Wayne.”

Despite your words, Wayne still looked bewildered. “But what— what about your folks? I’m sure they wouldn’t want us just moving in unannounced-- Oh. Uhhh, or are they, um…”

“They’re alive,” you said when he trailed off with an uncomfortable look. “But they skipped town the day after the earthquake. I… don’t know if they’ll be back, but they definitely won’t be back anytime soon, so you and Eddie are welcome to stay as long as you like. I’d actually really enjoy the company, if I’m being honest, so you’d be doing me a favor.���

That last part was true, but you also said it because you knew Wayne wouldn’t accept charity. He was too proud, a trait he passed down to Eddie, who never let you buy his food when the two of you went out. You never saw it as charity, and you didn’t see this as charity either, but the Munson men were different.

After almost a full minute, Wayne exhaled shakily, and you thought you saw the glint of tears in his eyes. Then he cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over his face.

“I don’t know what to say,” he grunted after a moment. “Other than… thank you. For everything you’ve done. I’ll— I don’t know how yet, but I’ll find some way to pay you back.”

“For what?” you asked with a soft smile. “I have an empty room, it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m not just talkin’ about the room,” Wayne said as he met your gaze. “Ed told me some of what you did for him. And… and you gave me back my boy. I don’t think that’s a debt I can ever repay, but I sure as hell am gonna try.”

“There are no debts with family,” you said without thinking, but when Eddie snapped his head around to look at you with wide eyes, you immediately flushed. “I-I mean, we’ve all kinda become this big crazy family— us, the kids, Harrington, some others. Saving the world together creates a bond, you know, so… we all have each other’s backs. What I’m, uh, trying to say is you really don’t owe me anything, Wayne.”

Your face was still burning with embarrassment, and Eddie was still staring at you, and you suddenly couldn’t sit still anymore.

“A-Anyway…” You started to slowly inch your way around the Munsons, heading for the hallway. “I’ll, uh, go change the sheets on my bed now.”

“No, wait,” Wayne stopped you. “I don’t want to take your bed. The couch is fine with me.”

“That’s… really not necessary,” you said as you squirmed with discomfort and avoided his eyes.

“Yes, it is. You said Ed’s already taking the bigger bed, and I can’t in good conscious have you sleeping on the couch in your own home.”

Your face was fire engine red now, you were sure of it, and you shot Eddie a helpless glance. He looked similarly embarrassed, but after a moment, he cleared his throat.

“She, uh, won’t be sleeping on the couch, Uncle Wayne,” he said while also avoiding the older man’s gaze.

“What do you mean— oh.”

Was it bad luck to wish for a gate to open up directly beneath your feet and swallow you whole?

Wayne considered the two of you for a silent moment, but now Eddie was squirming, too, and he suddenly whirled to face you.

“Actually, uh, Obi, w-why don’t you go take a shower? Wayne and I can get the sheets changed, and you deserve a break after your hectic day.”

A part of you wanted to argue, but Wayne was still studying you closely, and you were a coward.

“Alright.” You flashed Eddie a bright, fake smile. “Sheets are in the hall closet, next to the bathroom. The blue ones with like a wave pattern are the ones that fit my bed. I’ll, um, only be about ten or fifteen minutes, so if you need anything else, I’ll grab it when I’m done.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart,” Eddie said with his own forced smile, but then flinched when his uncle raised an eyebrow at the pet name.

Before Wayne could add anything else, you nodded and quickly scurried around him and into the hall bathroom. Once the door was closed, you leaned against it, sighing.

Well… that was awkward. A hot shower would definitely help you unwind right about now.

First, though, you took a moment to go to the bathroom, realizing that you hadn’t peed since you ate five slices of pizza (and maybe drank one or two beers.) When you were done, you also decided to brush your teeth, hoping that once you got out of the shower, you could just tiptoe into the master bedroom, avoid seeing Wayne for tonight, and go right to sleep.

Unfortunately, as you went to start undressing, you realized there was a flaw in your plan.

You forgot a change of clothes. And you definitely didn’t want to walk out into the hall wrapped only in a thin towel.

Cursing yourself under your breath, you quietly opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. Your bedroom was almost directly across from the bathroom, with its own door standing only partially ajar. You could hear what sounded like the flapping and rustling of sheets, and when you peeked through the crack in the door, Wayne and Eddie were standing on either side of your stripped bed. Wayne’s back was to you, and Eddie was half crouched over the mattress, trying to tuck the clean fitted sheet over a corner.

You were about to raise your hand and knock— even though it was your room— but Wayne’s voice stopped you.

“So… I see you finally bucked up the courage to tell that girl how you feel.”

The fitted sheet immediately slipped from Eddie’s grasp, snapping out of place, and he cursed as he chased after it. You flushed and wanted to step back, feeling like you were eavesdropping— because you were— but now you were worried Eddie might hear you if you moved.

Did he know you were there already, or was the three feet distance from the bathroom to where you were now standing not enough for him to tell the difference?

Damn it, you should have just taken the shower and come out in a towel.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie suddenly said, drawing your attention back into the room. Eddie still wasn’t looking up at his uncle, effectively hiding in his long hair as he fixed the corner he’d messed up. “Near death experiences kinda put things in perspective, you know? But, uh, truthfully, Obi’s the courageous one. She told me how she felt first.”

“And how many times did I tell you that she was just as smitten with you as you were with her?” Wayne asked, and though you couldn’t see his face, his voice was decidedly smug. “She was at the trailer more than I was, Ed. She called you every morning to make sure you got up for school.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, you told me so,” Eddie muttered as he moved down to the next corner of the bed, and through a gap in his hair you could see his flushed and embarrassed face. “I’ll be sure to listen to you the next time I fall head over heels in love.” 

“You think there’s gonna be a next time? I’ve seen the way you look at her, Ed.”

The question made both Eddie and your heart pause. Eddie stuttered into motion first, followed by your racing pulse, but he still didn’t look at his uncle as they finished putting on the fitted sheet.

You didn’t know if Eddie was going to answer the question. You didn’t know if you wanted him to.

“I dunno,” the younger Munson finally said after what felt like an eternity. “I mean, it’s not like that shit’s important right now. The world’s ending, I’ve got goddamn wings…”

“From the sound of it, this ain’t your friends’ first rodeo,” Wayne pointed out. “If they’ve done half the stuff you’ve said, getting you back to normal should be a walk in the park.” 

“Hopefully,” Eddie sighed as he started working on the pillow cases. He was maybe punching the pillows a little more roughly than necessary. “But even if I do get back to ‘normal,’ it’s… I mean, we’re young. Young and stupid. Well, I’m stupid, but Obi’s smart. So damn smart. She’s gonna go to college and do something amazing, I’m sure of it. And I don’t think she’ll want to be tied down to a drug dealing, ex-cult leader from a trailer park.”

Immediately, a thousand arguments jumped to your lips, and you were seconds away from shoving open the door and telling Eddie he was so wrong when Wayne suddenly grabbed one of the pillows and chucked it at Eddie’s head.

“Ow!” Eddie finally looked up with a frown, his hair a little frizzy from the pillow’s impact. “That hurt.”

“Good, maybe it’ll knock some sense into ya,” Wayne grunted, and even though you still couldn’t see his face, you could imagine his stern expression. “Because that’s about the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard, and I’ve been listening to the whole town call you an ‘evil mastermind’ for a week.”

“Okay, I could totally be an evil mastermind if I wanted, though—”

“Ed,” Wayne cut in, which made his nephew shut up. “I might not be the best person to be giving relationship advice, but that girl looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. You heard her in there. She called us— you— family. And if she didn’t run screaming at your wings and claws, I doubt she gives a crap about your past. She loves you, Ed. Anyone with eyes can see it. And you should give yourself some credit. If you can survive the damn apocalypse, I know you’ll make something of yourself one day, son. But… just know I’m already proud of you, and I always will be.”

Eddie’s face rippled, and he looked on the verge of tears for a moment before he ducked his head again and picked up the pillow Wayne had thrown at him.

“Thanks,” he whispered as he started pulling on the pillowcase.

“You’re welcome.” Wayne nodded, and it was quiet for a moment as they started straightening the comforter. Then… “So, you gonna ask her to marry you?”

The breath hitched in your lungs, and your heart skipped like a rock over water.

“Wha— shit, fuck!” Eddie gasped as he snapped upright, stumbled back into the nightstand beside your bed, and almost knocked the lamp to the floor with his flailing wings. “I… you… Uncle Wayne! You can’t just say shit like that! It’s— that’s crazy. Absolutely insane. D-Did you not hear the part where I said we’re young? And I haven’t— fuck, I haven’t even taken her out on a date yet, and I’ve been planning our first date for-goddamn-ever. It was either going to be a fancy dinner at Enzo’s— which, actually, the gate might have swallowed Enzo’s now that I think about it, so never mind that— or a very romantic picnic out by the lake… which is also a portal to hell, Jesus H. Christ! See, I can’t even take Obi on a date because it’s Dante’s Inferno outside, so… so it’s s-stupid to think about marriage at this point. Definitely not thinking about it right now. Nope.”

The silence following that rambling rant was deafening, broken only by Eddie’s jagged panting and the sound of your heart sinking into the depths inside you. Your throat was tight with disappointment— even though you knew that was stupid— and you were just about to turn around and shuffle back into the bathroom when Wayne spoke up again.

“‘Definitely not thinking about it right now,’” the older Munson repeated, again in that smug tone. “So you’ve thought about it before. And presumably will in the future?”

Eddie groaned, long and suffering, as he dragged his clawed fingers down his face. He took a deep breath while hiding behind his palms, but then he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Fuck, okay, yes, alright?” he grumbled. He sounded miserable. “I’ve thought about it. And despite all the crazy shit I just mentioned, I would ask her in a heartbeat if I thought she would say yes. Happy?”

You didn’t know if Wayne was happy at this knowledge, but you certainly were. It felt like your heart was moments away from taking flight, made buoyant by the elation pumping through your veins like the world’s best drug. Eddie had been semi-right before. It definitely was not logical to be thinking of marriage at a time like this, with the fate of the world tittering on the edge of a knife.

But just the very idea was enough to make you feel like you were levitating off the floor, rebelling against gravity and all the laws of physics.

Fuck, you wanted to run into the bedroom and kiss the ever-living shit out of Eddie.

But once again, before you could move, Wayne started speaking.

“I’m happy as long as you’re happy, Ed, and I know that… Obi makes you happy.”

Eddie sighed again and looked up at his uncle, but then a small smile— fond and beautiful— stretched across his lips.  

“Yeah,” he murmured, making your heart soar. “She does.”

“Good.” Wayne nodded and bent over to smooth out the last wrinkles in the comforter. “But, uh, just for my own peace of mind, I hope you’re being… safe. I’m too young to be a grandpa, and a toddler with wings would definitely send me to an early grave.”

Eddie squawked with mortification as your whole body simultaneously flushed with heat, and you decided that you could just borrow some of your mom’s clothes, actually.

Pivoting on heel, you scurried over to the master bedroom, but not before you heard Eddie stutter out a response.

“You— we— I, ummm, actually haven’t done… that yet, b-but I know the rules, don’t worry. Wrap it before you tap it, no means no, only enthusiastic consent counts—”

“Alright, alright, that’s, uh, enough, Ed. Glad we had this talk.” 

[cinnamonest]

Y’all are too nice to me I swear… here I am being horny and nasty on main and I’m getting encouraged, damn. But for real  ( ´ ω ` ) thank you so much!!

I’m gaining more confidence to post more smutty stuff and the kind of dark shit I like, so I might go back and make more nasty Childe content later on too… After Albedo, I got Razor and Zhongli coming up, and a few ones I just worked on for fun. But yeah, just in case it wasn’t clear for anyone who followed me, I’m going to be writing almost entirely dark content and some really nasty stuff, so just be aware of that, and don’t consume my writing if that’s something that may be harmful to you.

Albedo is so pretty… and such good dark content material… He treats you like a science experiment but has the audacity to make it hot smh

I haven’t seen a whole lot of him outside the cutscenes, so potentially ooc (as if yandere content isn’t already ooc, lmao)

Albedo - Yandere Profile

tw: general yandere content, obsessive behavior, stalking

tw (below cut): smut, noncon (seriously, you’ve been warned)

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Very much aware. In the beginning, it frustrates him. He’s never been particularly attached to anyone, outside of his former instructor. He’s always enjoyed being out on his own, spending extended amounts of time by himself – the desire to be around someone is a foreign feeling for him. He immediately notices how bizarre the emotion is for him, how it changes his behaviors. His self awareness combined with perceptiveness makes him able to acutely recognize not only how unusual this emotion is for him, but also how the extent of his feelings, the types of desires they ignite in him, is unusual even for “normal” people who aren’t social recluses.

He’s frustrated by his own actions, feels embarrassed at how attached he is to you, how easily you make him flustered and trip over his words. As he is a very aware yandere, he’s definitely afraid of rejection to some degree. He has no idea how to navigate feelings and interactions with other people, he’s never really had the desire to form a particularly strong bond with anyone before. As such, he’ll come across as very awkward, and he will interact with you less than most yanderes – he knows he’s just going to embarrass himself if he talks to you, right? He’ll just mess up and say something strange, so instead, he opts to watch you from the shadows, go to places where you are, but keep a distance from you, just being able to watch you makes him feel fluttery and overwhelmed. 

He will definitely be one to collect things from you. He collects plenty of things for the sake of science, this is no different. Or so he tries to tell himself, but he can’t delude himself even if he tries. He knows its weird, he knows its wrong, but the overwhelming urge to have things of yours is too great to resist. He’ll start off with more innocent things, but it will gradually progress to not-so-innocent… items of yours.

It may not be obvious, but he’s actually a fairly sensitive person, at least regarding you. He places a lot of value in what you think of him, and wants to ensure you’ll respond positively to him. He views it like a science – there should be some formula by which he can put in the correct actions, and produce a specific result. Unfortunately, unlike real science, there’s not much room for trial and error – he feels he only has once chance.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It will take some time, as he’s got to get over his own nerves first. He’s torn between the fear of you hating him for such a thing, it would be the end of the world for him, but also the desire to pull you away from the world, to keep you hidden from others, to have you all to himself, to be the only person that gets to look at you. If you start showing positive signs, reacting positively to his gifts, expressing interest in conversation with him and going out of your way to see him, he’ll start to get more confident, think that he can afford to do something that might sour your opinion of him, hoping it will merely be temporary.

He’ll probably start to do so several times and back out. He’ll set out at night, make it all the way to your room and stand over your sleeping form, and he’ll start to worry, wonder if someone saw him, see holes in his plans, he gets too nervous and bolts. He’ll persuade you into being alone with him, and although its the chance he’s looking for, again, he’ll get nervous, worry about being caught, run through all the what-ifs, and miss the chance. Honestly, when he does finally take you, it will probably be not planned, but in the heat of the moment, a rash decision from desperation. Something like you coming to visit him to tell him you’re leaving the area, came to say goodbye, and he’ll panic, ultimately grabbing you by the arm as you try to leave and dragging you back inside, silently, but forcefully.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Moderately difficult. Your best bet is to take advantage of his tendency to be absent minded when he’s absorbed in his work. He gets very lost in his thoughts, to a point where he’ll completely zone out and be oblivious to the world around him. On the downside, this means you won’t have much time to cover distance, he’ll be close behind the moment he realizes you’re gone.

The route he’ll probably take is actually one where you won’t need to be too restrained, because you’ll be taking… a little research trip. Out to the most freezing, desolate areas of the mountains. He’s convinced the knights he needs to stay there for his research, but in reality, he’s internally panicking, as he tries to figure out how to make this work – after all, you two can’t stay here forever. You’d be foolish to run out of the little cabin he’s bought, out into the perilous freezing cold and jagged, high slopes. At first, he thinks there’s no way you’d try it, so he’s content letting you have free reign to walk around as you please. If he has to leave for whatever reason, he’ll probably lock you into a single room, but he won’t chain you up, as again, he's really trying to avoid making you hate him.

If you prove to be determined to leave, he’ll be hurt, but mostly concerned for you. He’s actually not one to get too mad over an escape attempt – he’ll blame himself, or theorize it’s just a natural response your brain triggered. Against his first choice, he’ll end up having to get more strict with your restraints. If you get too whiny, though… you might trigger one of his more frustrated moments.

“I didn’t want to have to do this… I’m sorry. I can’t risk anything bad happening to you. Tell me if it’s too tight… I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t blame you. I know you’re probably panicking over all this, but you’ll get adjusted to it, I promise. Just… just give it some time… it’s not so bad, living with me, I promise.”

“Don’t be like that. You’re only tied up because you tried to leave. You should understand why you have to be kept like this… If you don’t want to be restrained, you shouldn’t have run out, trying to get yourself killed.”

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

For all his academic intelligence, he’s not highly skilled with people and socialization. He’s not too good at being able to tell when he’s being lied to, and he definitely won’t pick up on subtle manipulation. It’ll be pretty easy to wrap him around your finger, he’ll do what he can to make you happy.

Once he finds out you’ve lied to him, though, he’ll get pretty upset. He likely won’t trust you again, and will require proof of anything you say, or set out to find out if you’re telling him the truth or not.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’ll try to accommodate you, giving you things you ask for, but he has limits. He’s too paranoid to let you have any contact with the outside world. You do have him wrapped around your finger to an extent, though. Whatever he’s doing at the moment, he’ll drop it in a heartbeat if you want to spend time with him in any way, even if its just you asking for food or to take a walk. He’ll be willing to take you for very short trips outside, no further than a few yards from the lodging, if only because he knows sunlight is vital to your health.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

The basics will be there – don’t try to leave, don’t be difficult with him, try to cooperate, be obedient. However, he’s also particularly overprotective of anything that can hurt you – even yourself. Under no circumstances can you handle anything that can hurt you – that means no cooking, no knives, no lifting anything heavy, no going outside without him. If you’re determined to cook something, he’ll have to stand right behind you, and watch while you do it. If you get so much as a little cut or burn, he’ll take over, insisting you go sit down after he tends to your “wounds.”

At the very beginning, he’ll be hesitant to punish you too much, as part of his plan to get you to like him. However, he can be a little easily frustrated, and your safety and well-being comes first, even if it means he has to make you upset. He will have to restrain you, take away what little privileges you had. If you try to bolt while you’re outside, no more going outside. If you try something foolish like attacking him with a knife when he gives you cooking privileges, you will lose said privileges. Really, the worst part of it all is the humiliation, being treated like a dumb, incapable baby that can’t do anything for yourself. He insists on doing everything for you, even down to bathing you and dressing you, even feeding you if you can’t convince him to take restraints off your hands. He’ll talk down to you in that way, too, talking to you as if you were a child.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

It’s a situation he’s not prepared to handle, and he’s unsure of what to do. It strikes fear in him that you might have someone else interested, so he has to get rid of them as quickly as possible. He’s not opposed to killing, if it comes down to that, but initially, he’ll try to work behind the scenes – expose something that will ruin their reputation, get them accused of a crime. This would also be one of the possible aforementioned situations that might cause him to kidnap you a bit earlier than he normally would, as well. If he can’t get rid of them easily, he’ll just take you away from them.

He will absolutely try to make you hate them, try to ruin your image of them, and he’s rather good at falsifying evidence for his claims of their behavior. With his alchemic skills, that sort of thing is easily possible.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He gets more frustrated than anything, when you’re being difficult. This is mostly just him sighing quite a bit, speaking a bit harshly, even pouting and sulking a bit if you’ve offended him. But true anger in him is not pretty, and almost never happens. It’s a buildup, a slow rise that has a boiling point. If he reaches that point, he can definitely get mad enough to hurt you, it’s actually kind of terrifying in how sharp of a contrast it is to how he normally is. It’s a side of him that’s very difficult to draw out. He’s not one to yell or shout, no, his anger is a suffocating silence, he slams down whatever he’s holding as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the arms hard enough to bruise, and dragging you by the hair to whatever he has planned.

With mild frustration outbursts, he will feel justified, but if it reaches that intense anger, he’ll usually give at least a little apology, tell you he didn’t mean to go that far. He hates to think of you fearing him, but ultimately, if that’s what’s necessary to keep you safe, then he can live with it.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It’s an odd mix. On one hand, he sees you as utterly fascinating, the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, more than any landscape or art he’s seen or made, an invaluable treasure to be kept on a high pedestal. Simultaneously, however, he will treat you like a child, thinks you can’t do anything for yourself. It’s a bizarre duality, but one he is consistent on. You’re precious, so very precious, and he’s undeserving of you, but at the same time, you need him to be safe and sound.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Of the genshin boys, he’s one of the most determined. He’s not good with people, and he doesn’t really have anyone particularly close to him left anymore. He tends to keep people at a distance. You sort of fill an space inside him that he never knew was empty, a void he wasn’t aware he had until it was consumed by thoughts of you. He doesn’t need anyone or anything else, so long as he has you with him, but he really, really wants it to be true that you love him. He doesn’t need you to even love him as much as he loves you – he doesn’t even know if that’s possible – but he just wants to know that, even if only in the slightest, his feelings are returned. He’s so distant from everyone else, but you wormed your way into his heart, even if you didn’t intend to, with your smiles and softness and kindness towards him. For the first time, he feels weak around someone, but in a way, it’s a good feeling. He wants to be able to be vulnerable, be weak, and not have anything to fear by doing so.

He’s lucid, though, so he doesn’t expect you to love him immediately. As he’s not good with words or displays of affection, he’ll get you all sorts of gifts. Rare items that you wonder how the hell he obtained them, beautifully crafted little trinkets from all his searching and time traveling, more clothes than you could ever wear. You’ll start to feel a little guilty, it’s so much, and you’re certain he doesn’t have that much money. He’ll blow it off, say it’s no big deal, but if you insist, he’ll have to start finding new ways to convey his affection. In captivity, he won’t stop trying, but he’ll understand why you might be angry. In that case, he will utilize what he’s learned from research in books he’s read. He knows that eventually, with him being the only one you have, the only company, the only one to talk to, the only source of touch, you’ll eventually have to cave. You’ll become attached to him, bond with him, whether you like it or not. He knows how powerful the affect of touch can be, and will make sure to hold you in his arms, keep you on his lap, make you crave the only source of human touch you can get. Dependency, he thinks, is the gateway to you loving him.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Drawings. So many of them. Much like his drawings he uses in notes, he’s found he tends to start scribbling a familiar face when his mind drifts off. He’s memorized every little detail of your face, every curve on your body. If you’re ever snooping around, you’ll eventually uncover a book of sketches he has solely dedicated to drawings of you. Drawings of you laughing, smiling, sleeping, drawings that you’re certain were of real events you were at, that you didn’t remember him being at. Every bit in perfect detail. If you confront him about it, he’ll be horrifically embarrassed, insisting they’re no good, or, if you’re upset, trying to reassure you it was all from his mind and totally not him lurking in the shadows as he watches you.

Also, if you want to make him happy, get him on one of his spiels about his work, his interests, anything that he can catch onto and go on and on about. He’ll catch himself rambling and apologize for being “annoying,” but if you reassure him, and express interest, that will make him feel particularly appreciated. It would be a primary way to get on his good side and manipulate him, or lull him into false security to make your escape, if that’s what you’re looking to do. But be warned, it will only work once, and he’ll be far too hurt to let himself indulge in sharing these things with you again.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Publicly, definitely highly reserved. He’s easily flustered, and thinks of sex in a very scientific way, for the purpose of procreation. For fun? He knows it’s enjoyable, but can’t separate it from his very analytic, scientific way of viewing things. It’s a formula, you touch this here and pull that there, and the result is supposed to be orgasmic bliss. He just isn’t very familiar with pleasure – he doesn’t drag out masturbation, even, as that would be a waste of time. He gets it over with quickly, taking short breaks during his work. He is a fairly high drive, though, and gets the urge fairly frequently, about once or twice a day.

He’ll be hornier with your presence, having to leave more frequently to get off to the little things you do, quickly getting himself off while recalling the mental image of you holding a pen in your mouth, the little moan when you stretch, the way your clothes fit to your frame.

Prior to abduction, he’s not particularly touchy at all, in fact, he’s very jumpy if you touch him. Once he’s gotten you alone with him for the foreseeable future, isolated, dependent, he’ll gain more confidence, be willing to give into his cravings to touch you, hold you, eventually progressing to groping you, moving his hands up and down your body, under your clothes, slowly peeling them off.

He’s initially a bit ashamed of his urges towards you, feels guilty every time he gets off to you, but will likewise gain more confidence once you're his.

A guy can only fight off the urge for so long before he cracks, before he can’t continue to care about the consequences. For him, that point is when he knows he finally has you all to himself – his worries fade, and while the guilt is still there, it’s far outweighed by desire.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He does care, but as stated previously, it’s hard to fight the urge for so long. It will be torture, but for the first few days, he wants you to “adjust” to your new “home,” and not add to your panic. After that, though, he’ll try to assess your reactions. If you’re extremely resistant, he’ll give you more “adjustment” time. He can’t really hold off forever, though, and eventually, maybe a few weeks in, comes to the conclusion that if he just does what he wants, so long as he’s gentle and reminds you he loves you, it will help you get past the mental barrier in your mind. He’s convinced there’s simply a psychological issue, and that sometimes, people need a push. It’s like having a friend who can’t swim – sometimes, you just have to throw them into the water, help them get over that mental hurdle, and they’ll be grateful in the end. That’s what he tells himself to justify it, anyway. He has enough… anatomical prerequisite knowledge to know what’s good and what’s bad, and will take your body’s positive reactions as a sign of what you really want. Is definitely the kind to use that against you, holding up his fingers to your face after you cum on them, as if to prove a point.

“See? I told you, you just have to let go and give in to what you want… if you didn’t, my fingers wouldn’t be dripping like this, now would they?”

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

He wants to experiment on you. This manifests as him being something of a service top without really intending to be, even if you’re not exactly happy about it. He likes to watch your reactions, watch the way your body moves, test the pleasure you get from different things, discover what it is that you like, even if you weren’t aware of it. In particular, he’s fascinated by the fact that girls have so many types of orgasms. He’ll want to try them all, watch and see which ones are more intense than others, which ones make you convulse, makes your toes curl, your eyes roll back. Which erogenous zones make your breath hitch, make you twitch and whimper. Probably the type to be determined that he can make you cum just from something like sucking on your nipples, and he won’t stop until he achieves it. He’ll also want to try everything. At least anything that he thinks has some potential to appeal to him, mentally. He’s a busy man and hasn’t really taken the time to explore his own sexuality, and has virtually zero experience.

Edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms

Experimentation also means testing limits and thresholds. He’ll bring you up to the edge, learn to watch for the slightest of signs that you’re close, listen to your breath, watch your face, wait until you’re just so close and then draw back, stopping just short of letting you catch that high. Then he’ll let you drift back down, and bring you back up again. No amount of begging will make him show you any mercy, you’ll only cum when he’s decided he’s observed enough. He wants to push the limit, see just how close to the edge of orgasm you can get without spilling over, just how much it takes to drive you insane. He’ll also want to see how far you can go after it as well. Orgasm won’t be the end of his ministrations, no, he wants to see how much stimulation you can take. You won’t be able to get away from his tongue, he’ll grab you by the hips and slam you back down, continuing to lap at you even if you’re so sensitive it’s painful. Watching you cum will just make him rut into you harder, bruising and abusing your insides to a point that they’re so sore you can feel it long after it’s over. At first, he might feel a little guilty, and may very well after it’s over, but in the heat of the moment, he can’t fight the insatiable urge to listen to you squeal, feel you convulse, watch the tears from overwhelming pleasure run down your face.

He’ll make it his personal mission to see how many orgasms the female body is capable of within a given amount of time - per day, per hour, how quickly you can have them in succession. For scientific purposes, of course. Anatomy and human biology isn’t really his main field of focus, but he likes to expand his research horizons.

“Just one more… cum one more time for me, then we’ll be done. Come on… I know you can, just one more.”

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’s actually good with children, usually. He has a calming effect on kids. He isn’t sure how he feels, though. To some degree, he fears his capabilities to parent, thinks he would be too cold to be a good father. But he also likes the idea of a protege, an heir to his title, one he can teach everything he knows. If he does end up having one, this fucking nerd man will read every book on pregnancy, birthing, and parenting that he can get his hands on.

Also, he’ll absolutely be one to track your cycles, even better than you can. He’s researched enough to know exactly when you’re most or least likely to get pregnant, and you can’t help but notice how much more he seems to cum in you when you’re at your most fertile. Nor can he deny how satisfying it is to watch his cum slowly drip out of you, watching you twitch with aftershock and slowly drift off in exhaustion.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Unfortunately for you, since overstimulation and edging are already normal and everyday for you, he’ll have to amp it up a bit if he’s trying to make you regret something. He might get rougher, abusing more pleasure spots on your body, keeping his hands, mouth, and cock occupied all at once with driving you over the edge until it’s painful. But if you’re exceptionally misbehaved, you might not ever get a release to his edging, instead left to suffer from being so close, tied up so you can’t finish yourself off.

In moments when he’s really, truly angry, the peak of it, and that blends with arousal, he’ll really, really throatfuck you. Grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock down as deep as he can, holding you there as you gag and choke, feeling your throat convulse around him, desperately trying to pull back for air. The movements are harsh and brutal, pulling harshly on your hair, moving at a pace so fast you barely have a second to breathe. Thankfully, when it gets like that, he won’t last long, emptying out into your throat, holding your jaw shut and demanding you swallow. If any spills off on your chin, he’ll gather it up on his fingers, hold it to your face, and command you to open your mouth, suck it off, and swallow again. That’s at the peak of his anger, though, and you’ll have to substantially piss him off to reach that point. He’ll apologize later, holding you close, but his guilt doesn’t change the fact that it’s one of the most intense orgasms that he’ll have, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes think of doing it again, even without provocation. He’s restrained enough not to, but the thought is there… and deep down, he’ll entertain the idea.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

The curves of your body, no matter how defined or faint they are, no matter the general shape of your body, to him it’s the most beautiful thing. He’ll definitely want to draw you, even if you’re not too keen on posing. He’ll run his hands up and down your body, squeezing every little bit of flesh he can, moving his palms over every little curve, every inch of your skin.

[shoutogepi]

My Number One Hero

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 4.6k

[ ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰!), ☀︎ ]  smut with a sweet, savory aftertaste

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : dom!shouto, temperature play, edging, dirty talk, choking, begging, light degradation, cock/body worship, creampie

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : After months of careful planning and preparation, you finally get the chance to make your move on your favorite Pro Hero, Shouto. Upon learning you’re his biggest fan, he decides to give you the VIP experience by offering to accompany you to your hotel room for the night.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i said a smut, smut, smutty smut. smut smut smutitty smut. feels like it’s been a while since i’ve written porn without plot! i guess this has a little story, though, so it’s not just complete sin ;)

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  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂irens echo in the distance, faraway blaring interrupting the otherwise serene, chilly night. You can hear them through the open window as soon as you slip inside the room, having left it open hours ago when you made your way to the hotel bar; the very place that you would lay in wait for the target of your affection to arrive.

Lady Luck has smiled fortunately upon you tonight— it's all you could really ask for, at this point. You had done your research— you’d flown in for the Hero conference, booked your room in the same hotel that hosted the event, and even figured out his itinerary for the weekend. How you had managed to actually convince him to return to your room with you, you aren’t exactly sure, but you also don't really give a damn for logistics. Not when the telltale click of the lock turning sounds, and it’s just the two of you, finally alone.

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Then he’s pressing your body into the back of the door. Strong hands seize your waist and thread into the hair at the base of your neck, pulling your head back so he can lean down and smother your lips with his. You let out a moan, receptive of his sudden onslaught of kisses. His tongue runs across your bottom lip before it parts the seam of your mouth, stroking yours in greeting. Your head is clouded with lust, everything about the man simply addictive. You’ve idolized him for so long, fantasized about him endlessly. And now that you’re given the chance, you’re going to absolutely worship him.

Before you know it, the kiss becomes frantic. His grip on you tightens, crushing your body between his powerful, slender frame and the solid wood of the door. A lean, muscled thigh splits your legs as he presses himself against you, like he’s desperate for every inch of your bodies to touch, to grind against each other. Your tongue tangles with his, your fingers coiled in his silky, dual-colored hair.

As he lets out a particularly throaty groan, your hips buck and your core brushes against the sinews of his sturdy quad, your head falling back to thump against the door while you moan out his name in response. “S-Shouto— mmph~”

His lips claim yours again, leaning down so he can force your mouths together harder as he flexes the muscle and rubs it between your legs a few more times before pulling back. You gasp as his hands unlatch from their rough grasp on you and instead grab onto the back of your thighs, long fingers curling into your plush flesh as he yanks you into the air. Your legs wrap around his waist automatically, your arms tightening around his neck and fingers fisting his hair roughly. You share a moan between kisses, mouths slotting to move in sync with one another as his feet begin to navigate toward the bed.

Somehow in the dark of your hotel room, he manages to stumble his way to his destination. The mattress creaks under your shared weight, your breath escaping you as your back hits the comforter, hair flying to fan out around your face. The moonlight illuminates his face, your heart rate picking up as you take in his strikingly handsome features. Without thinking, you reach out and run your fingertips along the edge of his jaw, eyes focused on the way your thumb catches over his lip. When you look back into his eyes, you find yourself pinned with his ardent gaze— the stray beams from the moon’s glow making his two-toned eyes look like galaxies with the sole intent to devour you whole. You can barely contain the wanton moan that dares to sound when he pulls the zip down the front of his hero suit, shrugging the material off and then tearing his undershirt over his head to reveal his chiseled torso to your wide, appreciative eyes. He allows a moment for your gaze to flit over every inch of shredded muscle, making sure you trace down his adonis belt and bite your lip before he speaks, confidence clear as day and ever-growing.

“Enjoying the view, my little fan?” Shouto rumbles, the hand that’s not supporting himself moving to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, then sliding down to rest threateningly on the column of your throat when you don’t respond.

You nod, unable to speak, tongue poking out to wet your lips as your hips wiggle underneath his narrow ones. Your legs are still locked around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours without any room for argument.  

He sighs and ducks his head into your neck, releasing his grip and allowing you to breathe as his lips start to plant wet kisses over the skin his fingers had just dug into. “As am I,” he groans when he rips your blouse open, the buttons flying from the seams and tinkling all across the hardwood floor. His eyes light up at the sight before him, not even acknowledging the intricate white brasserie that hides your tits from his gaze, eyes purely wandering across the swell of your cleavage and the soft skin of your stomach. It takes him a moment to realize your choice of undergarments, the white lace accented with a deep scarlet on the trim. He chuckles lowly, cocking a brow as a smirk lifts his lips. “Well you came prepared, didn’t you?”

“Just for you,” you manage to squeak out, still battling your shock that the Pro Hero is even here in your hotel room with you, let alone the fact that you can feel his hard cock pressing against your cunt through your clothes.

He ruts his hips experimentally against yours as a reward, savoring the whimper that slithers out of you and the way your legs squeeze around his waist, back arching off the bed. “That’s right, love,” the pet name sends shivers through your body, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones as you pant, “you did say you’re my number one fan, didn’t you?”

Your fingers dig into the sheets when he begins to kiss your neck again, warm lips trailing down to the tops of your breasts. “Yes,” you gasp, his teeth peeling the rim of your bra down, nose rubbing over the sensitive skin of your areola. “And you’re my— my number one h-hero, Shouto, ahh~” His hot tongue rolls over your nipple, taking the perked bud into his mouth and swirling it around playfully. The sensation makes your head spin, his hands coming to knead at your soft breasts. His thumb swipes back and forth across your other nipple, stimulating you further. Despite the generous attention he gives to your chest, your core itches for the delicious friction his hips provided again, trembling and leaking into your panties.

As if he’s reading your mind, he shuffles back onto his knees, making you feel small and prey-like under his sizzling stare while he tears your pants down your legs. You can feel his eyes taking in every inch of skin revealed, especially when he zeroes in on the wet line staining the middle of your panties, which match your bra and also sport his distinct red and white. Once the offensive material is rid of your body, he pauses as his eyes linger on your covered cunt, licking his lips. But then he gets off the bed, choosing to stand next to the edge of the mattress. “Get up, then,” he instructs, “Come show me I’m your number one with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Your body is up and following his command within seconds, eager to please. Your knees hit the floor as you settle yourself so you’re hovering over his foot, face just a short distance from the part of him that’s entertained your late-night thoughts for months on end now. Tentatively, you place a kiss to the front of his pants, just underneath his belt buckle. Heat floods your cheeks when your lips touch the length of his hard cock through his clothing and it twitches in response, your hands drifting up the inside of his thighs on their own accord. Then they’re undoing his belt and zipper, restlessly tugging the cloth down his pale, solid thighs. You leave his pants at his knees, impatient to have him in your mouth already while you slide his briefs down to meet his pants.

Shouto chuckles darkly when his cock springs out of its confines, your expression revealing your shock and intimidation as you eye his impressive member. But lust dominates your hesitance almost immediately, your eyelids falling to half mast as you open your mouth and lick a long stripe along the underside of his cock, from balls to tip. His hand flies to your head, digits gripping your hair when you take the swollen, leaking head into your mouth.

Your tongue washes at the bitter pre-cum that’s pearled at his tip, sucking gently as you start to sink deeper onto his cock. If you could, you would smile at the choked sputter that Shouto makes. Settling yourself into position, your hips rock forward and your panties drag across the smooth rubber of the white boots he dons with his hero suit. You moan, his cock halfway lodged into your throat and vibrating with your noise of pleasure.

“Fuck,” Shouto moans, pulling you off his cock just to rub his wet cockhead across your lips. You open your mouth, tongue extending out to chase his heavy length and slip it back inside. He taps the tip against your outstretched tongue a few times, sliding the hard shaft up and down. “How’s it taste, baby? Does it taste like you’d imagined, hmm? You like having my cock in your mouth?”

You whine, just wanting to swallow him whole at this point, hips still gyrating back and forth to rub your slickening cunt against the top of his foot. “Tastes so good, my hero’s cock tastes so good, so big… please, lemme taste it, make you feel good.”

He bites his bottom lip, letting you take his cock back into your hot, wet mouth. He groans loudly when you ram his length deeper into your throat, nearly taking the whole thing into your mouth in one go. An elongated expletive hisses out of his mouth as he throws his head back, your head beginning to bob up and down his throbbing member. “There you go… just like that, love… that’s right, you look so pretty drooling for me.”

The fingers in your hair slacken their hold, allowing you to work his cock even faster, eagerness more apparent than ever. You’re sucking his dick with vigor, like your only goal in life is to make him cum down your throat. No matter how hard he tries not to show you how affected he is, he can’t help but let out the varied range of moans and sounds of bliss that your blowjob triggers.

Each noise makes your pussy twitch in your panties, the slow grinding against his footwear not doing much to satiate your growing hunger for the hero. Shouto clicks his tongue at the action, and although he tries to sound cool, his voice comes out heavy, affected. “Fuck, you’re even humping my boot, so desperate my little slut…”

His praise only makes you purr on his cock, sucking against his thickness with a smile. Just as you’re getting into a rhythm, Shouto pulls you back by the scalp abruptly, a string of split stretching to connect your lips to his thick cock. He only gives you a second before you’re in his arms again, and then you’re back on the bed, back flat against the comforter and legs peeled apart.

Your heart starts to beat faster, Shouto moving to sit between your legs. He’s naked now, white moonlight cast across his hips and making his erect cock glisten and catch your eye, your legs spreading wider in welcome of the sight. But he only laughs at you, shaking his head as his big palms come to coast up the backs of your legs. “Not yet, my little fan…” he murmurs, “gotta return the favor first.”

One hand wraps around your ankle and he closes his eyes, lips brushing along the front of your shin. Then he looks at you again, casting you a predatory gaze while his fingers creep up your thighs, eventually coming to tug at the soaked material of your panties. Once they’re off from around your ankles, he hums as he inspects the mess inside of them, thumbing over the wet patch whose existence is his complete fault.

“Seems only right for my number one fan to get this sloppy from merely sucking me off..” he comments while toying with your slick, eyes shooting over to yours momentarily. “Wonder how easy it would be to just slip my cock inside of you right now,” he continues, fingers resting on your thigh as his thumb parts your slit, calloused finger pad bumping over your clit and just barely dipping into your drenched hole. It makes you moan and shiver, and he smirks in response. “I think a real hero could get you just a little bit sloppier, though.”

You cry out when his mouth descends on you, warm tongue running up and down your slit. Your hips buck up but Shouto already expects that, his hands slamming them down before they can even lift off the sheets fully. Then he’s sucking at your clit, flicking his tongue against you, and finally diving into your cunt. His forearms cross over your hips as he pulls your hips into his arms, nesting himself between your legs so he can plunge his tongue deep inside of you.

He plays with you til you’re completely soaked, dripping for him and edged to the verge of cumming just from him fingering you one knuckle deep while his tongue flicks across your clit. “Shit, you’re wet for me,” he pants, breath ragged from going down on you for so long he’s starved himself of oxygen, “You fantasize about this or something?”

You give him a look. He only smirks and slides his fingers in deeper, all the way to the knuckles, rough finger pads rubbing along your gummy walls. “Yes,” you purr, pleased with the stimulation, “I only think of you when I touch myself, Shouto. You’re my hero, after all— the only one I want.”

He clicks his tongue and groans at that, leaning down to press a kiss onto your clit. “Just your hero?”

The sheets shuffle as you shake your head quickly, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation. “M-My number one hero,” you correct yourself breathlessly.

Shouto hums. Then, his tongue dips into the pool of excess slick dripping around his knuckles, dragging the wetness across your bundle of nerves. He teases you and brings you back to the edge once more, this time much quicker than the last as his fingers dig into your insides, curling into you mercilessly. “Don’t even know if you deserve to have my cock in you, baby,” he sighs, eyeing how your hips tremble and follow his hand when he pulls it away. “You’re already about to cum from just this, huh?”

“No,” you deny, moving to unclasp your bra and fling it off to the side. Shouto eyes your naked chest, gaze directing to the jiggle of your soft tits as you gasp for air. “I’ll be so good, Shouto, please— whatever you want.”

He tilts his head, considering your offer. All the while, his slender fingers pump inside you, curving to press against your spongy walls and tickle someplace deep inside of you.

At his silence, you pipe up. Offer an olive branch, so to speak. “I won’t cum until you say so,” you promise, still panting from your latest, denied climax and desperate for more of his touch. “I won’t, just— you can’t touch my clit, please, otherwise I’m gonna— o-ooohh, fuck Shouto~”

He cuts you off by thrusting his fingers inside you knuckle-deep, reaching his long digits and scraping at your velvet insides with tidy fingernails. “You won’t cum,” he parrots amusedly at your determined indignation, “Mmm, baby… you shouldn’t make such promises so lightly… I think you’ve forgotten who exactly is here between your trembling legs.”

You whimper at his response, eyes shutting and nails tearing at the blanket beneath your straining body. “I won’t,” you repeat, sounding almost like you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. “I— I won’t cum, not til you let me, fuck, please Shouto. Need it— anything for your cock inside me, please. Pleaseee.”

“Hmm,” Shouto feigns thought, his digits still pressing into your pussy earnestly. The stimulation has you clenching on him, fluttering around him. But just like you say, you don’t cum on his fingers. Not even when he rocks his hand flush against your mound, long fingers reaching deep, deep inside you and making saccharine-sweet mewls pour from your lips. You take it like a champ, not allowing yourself to climax even when he begins to thrust his fingers rougher inside of you. He relishes your screams when he activates his quirk, digits becoming cold and contrasting against your heated, quivering walls.

“Aha— hnnggg, a-aHAaa Shouto! Oh my god!” You nearly cum when his hot tongue laps at your clit, his fingers still digging just as far into your soaking cunt. It feels so good that you don’t even admonish him for breaking the one rule you’d set; your brain too foggy from the building pleasure in your abdomen. The temperature is a stark contrast to the fingers squelching inside of you, sending you nearly straight off the edge he’s brought you to many times already. You’re much too close, but he wont stop, won’t give you a second to breathe. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease put it in, fuck, please fuck me Sho, please be my hero and stretch me with your fat hero cock, pleaseineeditsofuckingbadddd.”

Then everything stops. His hand retreats, as does his face, and you wail at the loss. You’re hurtling back to earth, feeling like you’re falling through the clouds and the atmosphere as the orgasm you were so close to experiencing fades away. But the bitter comedown only lasts for a second, because then Shouto’s tugging your hips down the sheets so the pink head of his cock presses flush against your dripping entrance. His hips jerk forward and you’re so wet that he enters you effortlessly.

A strangled groan rings the air in the hotel room, and you’re unsure if it was from you, him, or the both of you. His cock is hot and thick, filling your pussy to the brim and stretching you so deliciously. His length spears past the point of comfort, but the ache of penetration feels so terribly good that when you try to find your voice to complain, all that comes out is a long, erotic moan.

Shouto drops onto his elbows, trapping your open legs against the mattress as he begins to fuck you. He growls at the way your cunt suffocates his cock, squeezing and hugging him so well. Placing sloppy kisses on your throat, his thrusts begin to pick up. “Gonna fuck you stupid, love,” he swears as his hot breath fans your neck glistening with his saliva. “Fuck you so good that I’m the only one who can satisfy you— make you mine, my little fan.”

Your reply is a babbling of yeses strung together, eyes rolled back and legs pulling his hips as close to yours as they can. His promise sounds so good, his cock feels even better, and your pussy tightens around him— he’s bringing you to the edge yet again.

He can feel your impending climax, and it only stokes the flames of his ego. He smiles down at your fucked-out expression, but it turns out as more of a snarl. It doesn’t matter— you’re not even looking at him, trying your hardest not to cum right then and there from his ruthless assault on your g-spot. Moving his weight to one arm, he reaches down and starts to rub your clit, taking your nipple between his teeth at the same time and ravishing it with his quirk-cooled tongue.

“That’s cheating!” you sob but it turns into a moan, fingers clenching around his bicep in warning, your body thrumming with waves of building pleasure. Your pussy’s clenching onto him, trying to suck him back inside and milk him for all his worth, your mind too clouded with lust to really do anything in retaliation.

“But you seem to like it when I break your rules,” Shouto replies cooly as he lets your chilled nipple fall from his mouth, continuing to thrust into you, and having the gall to stare daggers directly into your crumbling glare. Each slick, powerful slap of your fronts coming together has your legs wrapping around him, your toes curling in preparation, heels digging into his firm behind. He can tell you’re teetering on the edge— honestly he's surprised you even managed to last this long.

There are tears of pleasure dotting along your lashes. Your hips are widening with every crash of Shouto’s hips against them, your body arching to welcome the ripples of pleasure each rough push against your g-spot produces. Then his fingers pull away from your clit again without warning, and you whine at the loss, orgasm stunted and sliding toward the drain.

“I do,” you gasp, hips jumping to chase his receding ones, and slamming his long length balls-deep inside of you. Shouto groans, pauses, and then grinds his hips and stirs his cock inside of you, teeth seizing his bottom lip hostage and eyes glinting down at you, daring you to say it. You’re so fucking close to just creaming all over his cock that you’re desperate, you don’t care if that’s how you come off in this moment. You need to cum. “I like it— Fuck, I love it, please— please be my hero, Shouto. Please, want you to fuck me and let me milk all the cum out your big hero cock please, I need it, Shouto— pleaseeee, ple—aHHA!”

Shouto savors the way you cry out when he pins the backs of your knees into the comforter, pulling himself up to sheathe his cock inside of you completely, then flattening you with his torso and crushing your hips with his. It’s so deep that it hurts, but the burn of your walls stretching around him makes tremors flutter through your pussy. You look at him through barely-open eyes, arms thrown up and hands digging into the blanket as you share a look of mutual understanding.

You’re absolutely done for.

One. Two. Three strokes of his fat cock inside of you and your cunt is throbbing around him, velvet walls hugging tight as your body shivers in euphoria. Shouto moans as you squeeze him ruthlessly, your body begging for his seed. You’re having an out-of-body experience, writhing with mind-numbing, brain melting ecstasy as Shouto manages to slip out of you partly, then shoves himself back into your soaking pussy just as deep. He swears as your body presses against him as close as possible, your hips hooking to nestle his cock deep inside your pulsing cunt. As if you’re not breathless enough, his rough fingers come to latch around your throat, squeezing the sides so you’re almost choking. Then he’s drilling into you without restraint, fucking you so hard you can feel your ass making an indent in the cheap hotel mattress. It’s everything you’ve dreamed of and more.

“Fuck, should I cum in my number one fan’s tight little cunt?” he taunts, watching how the desperation in your teary eyes shines brightly. “Would you like that, cutie? Want me to fill your slutty little hole with my seed, hmm?” Sweat runs down his chest and gleams in the moonlight, the crevices between his sculpted muscles shining as he exerts himself. “A-Agh— Bet you’d like your hero’s cum inside of you, huh? Dripping… fuck— dripping into you and filling you up nice and good, yeah?”

You nod wildly, jaw unhinged but unable to speak, his hand on your throat still just as tight. Your orgasm is just starting to fade, overstimulated tears glittering down the sides of your face. Shouto’s broken pants transform into a crescendo of moans, his hips slapping the backs of your thighs harsher than ever as he chases his own release. You whimper when a wild, savage growl tears out of his chest, movements stalling as his cock twitches balls-deep inside you, sticky ribbons of white spurting and volcanoing out of him. His hulking biceps pull your chest flush against his heaving one, the hand around your throat sliding to hold the back of your neck up so he can kiss you deeply through the throes of his orgasm.

Your tongues caress each other slowly, passion peaking as he holds you in his arms like you’re a delicate, glass figurine about to shatter under his weight. He’s panting, chest rising and falling swiftly in between kisses. When you’re satisfied with his affection, he lays your body down onto the comforter, removing himself from you with gentle precision. Then he comes to lay beside you, pulling you close so that your head lays on his broad chest.

“Thank you for playing along, baby,” Shouto whispers, scattering kisses across your warm cheeks. “You did so well, my love. That was a thousand times better than I ever imagined.”

You laugh wearily, hand coming up to trace his sharp jawline with your thumb. He leans into your caress, a hand covering the back of yours and squeezing gently. “My pleasure,” you respond cheekily, closing your eyes and attempting to calm your racing heart. “You were kinda hot, though— all dominant like that. You’ve got a surprisingly dirty mouth, mister.”

“Really?” he hums, seemingly pleased with your praise. “I thought you were the hot one, begging for your hero’s cock like that all cute and desperate.” He nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing lightly.

You smile and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Mmm, well you are my hero, Sho. My number one hero… always.”

Shouto sighs happily at your confession, a shy smile spreading on his lips. “Aw, baby… now I’m hard again.”

That earns him a smack in the chest as you giggle at his revelation. Curious, you glance down at his cock, and sure enough, there’s a telltale shadow standing upright in between his hips.

“I wouldn’t mind a round two,” you suggest, turning to wink at him.

“Ready for some good ‘ole married people sex, then, love?” he suggests, a brow raising as his hand glides over your propped-up hip.

“So ready, my sexual-deviant husband.”

“Good, my naughty little wife. This time, you can call me the usual, then.”

You bite your lip, batting your lashes and looking up at him with a glint in your eye. “Yes, Sir.”

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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make sure to let me know if you enjoyed!! thank you sm for reading my sho-hoes hehehe :) <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[everlarkficexchange]

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW. 

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed. 

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it. 

Thank you all! 

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting. 

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet. 

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest. 

 “I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug. 

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles. 

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!” 

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place. 

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music. 

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.” 

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!” 

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze. 

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club. 

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.” 

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?” 

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,” 

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye. 

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?” 

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence. 

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams. 

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!” 

“Am I that transparent?” 

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!” 

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat. 

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful. 

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle. 

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether. 

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh! 

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures. 

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily. 

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead. 

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme. 

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray. 

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch. 

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat. 

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life! 

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it  again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt. 

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on. 

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise. 

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly. 

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply. 

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together. 

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it! 

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have. 

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door. 

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me. 

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth. 

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly. 

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?” 

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim! 

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs. 

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own. 

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up. 

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants. 

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak. 

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter! 

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door. 

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates. 

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve. 

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor. 

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it. 

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress. 

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle. 

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again. 

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine. 

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine. 

He moans. 

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans. 

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob. 

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him. 

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet. 

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!” 

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head. 

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep. 

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me. 

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more… 

When was the last time I had sex? 

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,” 

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive! 

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling. 

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off. 

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust. 

I squeak; he grunts.. 

Peeta holds me by the waist,  “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts. 

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe. 

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body. 

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still. 

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath. 

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs. 

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean. 

“Yeah,” 

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully. 

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today? 

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.” 

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?” 

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—” 

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely. 

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine. 

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips. 

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time. 

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…” 

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed. 

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door. 

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is. 

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep. 

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily. 

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave. 

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking. 

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!” 

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.  

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself. 

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!” 

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint. 

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?” 

Ugh! 

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with? 

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit! 

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?! 

Oh shit! 

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours… 

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach. 

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims! 

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading. 

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!” 

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place. 

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.” 

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps. 

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night… 

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead. 

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta? 

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?” 

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor. 

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings. 

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening. 

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me. 

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met. 

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember. 

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly. 

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl. 

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally. 

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket. 

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master? 

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain. 

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first. 

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention. 

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?” 

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago. 

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly. 

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!” 

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder. 

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful. 

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles. 

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly. 

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?” 

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests. 

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time. 

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,” 

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?” 

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse. 

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly. 

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.” 

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says. 

“How old are you?” 

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him. 

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?” 

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently. 

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me. 

“Please… stay with me…” 

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly. 

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me. 

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow. 

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?” 

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really. 

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk. 

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole. 

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.” 

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together. 

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally. 

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?” 

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically. 

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced. 

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes. 

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?” 

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?” 

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit! 

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern. 

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all. 

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle. 

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out. 

[ana-benn]

I seriously want Jamie to just come and grab me, whipser in my ear that I'm his, that he owns me and always will. FUCK.

Holy FUCK...

I need a minute.....

Okay. This turned into a whole ass smutty, possessive, domineering fic. This totally messed up my planned fics too, but you know what? I don't even care. You send something like this you jump the line 🥵 So.... You're welcome?

Stupid Possessive Man

It's been well established that Jamie doesn't play nicely with others. But sometimes you have to remember that can translate off ice too. It all started because of stupid ego-centric male jealousy too. Which was both hot, and slightly annoying if you were honest. You loved seeing Jamie this worked up, but also hated feeling like a piece of meat. It was a strange place to be.

It had started innocently enough you'd shown up with Jamie to Tyler's BBQ, and immediately gotten swept up in his charisma. Tyler had shown you where you could stick your overnight bag, as he didn't want any of the team leaving afterwards, since everyone knew how much alcohol was involved in a Seguin party. He'd left you and Jamie to change into swimwear and went downstairs. You'd taken your suit into the bathroom to change, it didn't matter how many times he'd seen you naked if it wasn't sexual you just felt uncomfortable. Jamie knew this and gave you your space, while he changed in the bedroom.

You'd chosen a flattering bikini that was also actually functional for swimming, wanting to actually have fun, and a bright orange cover up.

(because olive and orange is hott, you can't change my mind... Also I bought this so yeah)

When you stepped out you felt Jamie give you a once over before he asked, "You didn't happen to pack something else did you? I'm going to have to fight my own teammates," you laughed, and handed him the sunscreen.

"Here, you'll be the lucky one who gets to touch first," you smirked at his little scowl. He took his time, and ran his fingers over your body, long after the lotion was absorbed.

"I'd better be the only one who gets to touch," he growled out in your ear.

You have him a cheeky wink, as you threw on your coverup, "Guess we'll see."

With that you walked downstairs towards the party, chuckling as Jamie grabbed the towels and headed down after you. It was so easy to rile him up at times. You made it downstairs and staked out a couple of tanning chairs for you and Jamie, although you knew at most he'd sit there for a little while with you before one of the guys pulled him somewhere for a man-contest Tyler's parties were known for.

Exactly as predicted you'd just flipped onto your stomach when Jamie was called over to have a ping pong contest. You rolled your eyes playfully and swatted him away. He gave you a big grin and jogged over to play. It wasn't long before several other guys and their wives or girlfriends showed up. You got to talking with them, comparing notes on what they'd been doing since the season ended. A few of the guys inevitably would wander over and check in, but for the most part the party was easily divided between guys and girls. It was almost comical how like highschool it felt.

Eventually you and a few of the other ladies got into the pool, which brought a few guys in. You noticed Jamie had disappeared, but quickly were pulling into a game. Tyler had the bright idea to play chicken, and Joe and Sarah were onboard. As the reigning champs from last summer, they felt confident.

Tyler came over to you as everyone started pairing off, "Come on, let's partner up. Jamie's inside kicking everyone's ass at Mario Kart." You smirked at that. He really was ruthless at any competition, and he definitely loved beating his teammates.

So you agreed, and climbed up on Tyler's shoulders. The next twenty minutes or so were spent with splashing and laughter as those of you who decided to play fought tooth and nail to stay up. You didn't even notice Jamie coming back outside, fresh off a Mario Kart ultimate victory. A particularly hard shove had you lock your ankles around Tyler, just as you noticed Jamie. The hard look in his eyes sent a very clear message though, he was jealous.

Now a good wife would've probably gone over and reassured him, a better wife probably wouldn't have even played the game with Tyler, but you weren't that kind of wife. You craved his raw power and dominance, and it sent a chill up your spine to know that the worse you made this the better it would be. If he was smarter you knew that he would've figured out by now when you were purposely pushing his buttons, but if he had one blind spot it was definitely in his ability to control the possessive jealousy that ran white hot in his veins. So you made it your mission to be a touchy feely as possible with anyone you could.

Tyler needs someone to help him with the grill? You were right there getting platters or whatever for him as you placed a gentle hand on his arm. Ben needed a new beer? All of a sudden you're feeling super hospitable and you jump up to grab him one, making sure to put a hand on his shoulder and bend down to hand it to him. Anton decided to do a cannon ball off the side of the pool? Obviously the splash would be bigger if you held hands and jumped together.

As it was right now you were laughing with Andrea, and sipping your most recent glass of sangria as she was telling you about their trip. You felt hands wrap around your waist, and startled slightly before you recognized the strong hands on your hips. You vaguely recognized Andrea smirk as she left you two alone.

Jamie stood like that for a moment, before leaning into your ear, "You're mine little girl, and I'm not letting you go. So here's what's going to happen, you're going to put my shirt on, and then we're going to sit with our friends around the fire pit. You're going to put your cute little ass in my lap, and I'm going to stuff you with my cock. If you're good, when we get upstairs I'm going to fuck you. Got it?"

You couldn't breathe, let alone speak, so you did exactly what he said. Grabbing your coverup as well to drape over your legs. When you made it back over to the group Jamie was already there, you did exactly what he's asked and sat on his lap. He manhandled you into the position he wanted, and once he'd stoped you placed the coverup over your legs.

"You cold?" Tyler asked.

Jamie took that moment to enter you, causing you to choke a little as you attempted to answer Tyler, "N-no just a little over exposed from the sun is all."

Jamie chuckled lowly, as you fought the urge to elbow him. He started easily conversing with his teammates, and you just quivered around him. You tried just leaning back into Jamie's body, but being enveloped in the smell of chlorine, beer, and campfire along with the musk that was just Jamie was too intense with his buried deep inside of you. You could feel the wetness dripping as you sat there and squirmed, trying to find a way to get comfortable in the situation.

Jamie leaned into your ear creating what looked like a sweet moment, though his words were anything but sweet, "Do you you think they know you're sitting here quivering on my cock? That your quivering and clenching around me like a desperate, needy whore?"

You almost whined, as Jamie pulled from you. A seamless movement that looked like a basic adjustment, "We're going to head up guys, see you in the morning." Jamie said pulling you up, and along with him. Those around you waved, and you noticed a couple gathering their things to follow you.

Jamie pulled you into the room, and as soon as the door closed he was on you. Lips attacking your skin as he peeled your clothes from your body. Possessive nips followed by soft kisses, as he backed you towards the bed. No foreplay needed after you'd spend the last half-hour on his cock, and you'd teased him all day.

As soon as he had you naked he was over you, thrusting up into you. He settled his lips over your jugular, and set to work marking your neck while he pounded into your soaked pussy. He was intense, and his hands alternated between caressing your body and coming back to your his where he would grab rough as he delivered random hard thrusts. It was animalistic and deliciously rough, so all you could do it was wrap your arms around his shoulders and spread your legs.

"Tell me who owns this tight little cunt," Jamie demanded harshly.

"You do," you whimpered, Jamie rewarded you with a harsh thrust.

"Again," he growled.

"God, Jamie please. I'm yours I'm all yours," you cried.

He smirked then as he doubled his efforts, "Then cum with me." You couldn't help but follow then, as Jamie trapped your cries in a searing kiss.

--------------------

The next morning when you got up you appraised yourself in the mirror "Jamie!" You gasped out, causing him to stick his head in the door.

"What's up?" He asked concerned.

"You left a purple hickey on my neck," you admonished.

"Guess you'll just have to wear my shirt instead of that tank top," he grinned.

"Stupid, possessive man," you groaned, causing Jamie to laugh as he tossed you his shirt.

[imaginedhaven]

At the Rendezvous

a smutty Rowaelin oneshot

Link to Hot Professors Collection Masterlist

Summary: The end of the semester means the psychology department’s end of semester party, and Aelin knows exactly how she’d like to celebrate.

Rating: E for Explicit- not intended for readers under 18!

Contents/Warnings: College Professors AU, Enemies with Benefits, Semi-Public Sex

As always, while the collection is linked above this is intended to be able to stand alone. I hope you enjoy!

~*~*~

Aelin smiled to herself as she slipped into her uncle’s house without knocking and hung her coat in the closet rather than whatever room Gavriel had devoted to housing the rest of the department’s coats. She did her best to treat him as her boss rather than as family while they were on campus, of course, but this was the end-of-semester party and she felt she was entitled to take a few small liberties in this informal setting.

“Well, look who decided to come after all!” A warm arm slid around her shoulders, and Aelin fought the urge to jump at the sudden contact. A glance to her left revealed it was Fenrys, and she relaxed with a smile.

“Only because I knew you would bully me relentlessly, Fen.” It was partially true; she had originally decided to skip the party and relax on her own, but in addition to her youngest colleague’s mockery she knew she would have someone else to answer to.

Assuming Whitethorn even showed his stupid, smirking face. She figured it was just as likely that he would avoid any unnecessary social interaction. Still, it was best to at least pretend to be the bigger person, and so she had changed her mind at the last minute.

If she had shown up wearing a short red dress and black lace panties, well, that was her own business. It had nothing to do with anyone else.

Belatedly, she realized Fenrys was still talking and tuned back into his words. “And you didn’t even bring anything! What will your dear uncle say?”

Aelin smirked. “Considering that he’s the one who begged me not to subject the department to my poor attempts at cooking, I think he’ll thank me.”

“It’s true,” came a voice from the kitchen. “It’s absolutely terrible.”

“Aedion, you’re not supposed to agree with me!” she shouted as she rushed into the kitchen to defend her honor. “What are you even doing here, anyway? You’re not part of the department.”

He tousled her hair in retaliation, ignoring her growl. “Did you forget that I live here? Plus, someone has to pick up your slack when it comes to food.”

As she rolled her eyes, Fenrys glanced around the room. “That’s everyone except Rowan, now.”

“Does he even come to things like this?” she asked, pretending for all the world that she didn’t care in the slightest about the answer.

Fenrys nodded, a wicked gleam in his onyx eyes. “I may or may not have convinced him that it looks better when he’s being reviewed for tenure if he actually participates in department events. He didn’t before then.”

Aelin laughed despite herself. “Devious of you.”

“Isn’t it?” He continued to ramble on about it, but Aelin couldn’t pay attention to save her life, not when the door opened to reveal the man she’d both hoped and feared would show up.

Rowan Whitethorn had been a pain in her ass from the moment she’d joined the psychology department at Doranelle University. A stupidly attractive pain in her ass, no less. Ever since her very first day they’d been at each other’s throats, to the extent that they had each been formally reprimanded by her uncle and removed from authority over decisions regarding the other’s tenure within two months of the start of the semester. After that, they had largely stopped sniping at each other in meetings, but the animosity between the two was still well-known to the rest of the professors.

Less well-known was the fact that they had also been fucking the entire semester. She wondered if she should feel guiltier about that, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to stop whatever game they were playing.

For what it was worth, despite his obvious dislike of her as a person Whitethorn seemed equally unable or unwilling to be the one who brought them both to their senses about the whole thing, and so their frequent arguments in each other’s offices led to equally-frequent tearing off of clothes and desecration of desks. He was also unfairly good at what he did, to the point that she had more than once initiated an argument just to feel him pressing her into his desk. She was reasonably certain he had done the same to her.

Fuck, in the time she had been thinking about him he had crossed the distance between the front door and the kitchen, and now he was close enough to touch. Even worse, he had rolled up the sleeves of his ever-present button-up shirt once he’d removed his coat, exposing both his forearms and the tantalizing swirls of the tattoo she’d only caught the occasional glimpse of.

This had been a bad plan. She had proven nothing, and he was already smirking at her attire.

He took advantage of her shocked silence to greet both of them. “Fenrys. Galathynius.”

Aelin couldn’t stop herself from bristling. Even in this informal setting, and even after all they had done, she didn’t merit the courtesy of being called by her first name by this man? “Whitethorn,” she replied coolly.

It didn’t take an idiot to read the tension in the room, and despite the affable persona Fenrys liked to adopt she knew he was far smarter than he let on. With a quick excuse he was across the room, and she was alone with her rival.

Rather than say anything to him, she glanced around and then jerked her head in the direction of the hallway and walked away. She’d seen the way his gaze had lingered on her bare legs; he would follow.

Sure enough, a few minutes later he joined her in the deserted hallway, and she opened the door to Gavriel’s linen closet and tugged him inside. He glanced around at their surroundings before she closed the door and threw the space into darkness. “A linen closet? Really?”

“I don’t see you coming up with anything better,” she retorted, already irritated.

“I can think of far more convenient locations than a closet in your uncle’s—”

She didn’t give Whitethorn a chance to finish his sentence. Instead, she tugged him close and crushed her lips to his to silence him.

They hadn’t kissed like this in a long time—not since their very first time, if Aelin recalled correctly. It was every bit as overwhelming now as it had been then, the pine scent he was perpetually tinged with flooding her nose and heat slamming into her as he bit her lip. It was a good thing Aedion had already mussed her hair, for his fingers found their way into it and tugged somewhat gently.

Aelin gasped in response, and his lips and teeth began to travel down her neck. Gods, they didn’t have long, a few minutes at most, but it didn’t even matter with the way he was already working her up.

His hand slid out of her hair and down her front, cupping her breast briefly before sliding down and under the short skirt of her dress. Rather than shoving her panties aside like she expected him to, though, he caressed her over the fabric with the lightest pressure possible. She hissed in response. “We don’t have time for teasing. Get on with it.”

“And whose fault is that?” Gods, was he slowing down? She was going to kill him.

Then his fingertips finally, finally brushed over her clit and she decided he could live for now.

She bit her lip to muffle the moan that threatened to escape her, knowing that any noise could lead to their discovery. Instead, she reached for him and began to work his belt open, grinning when her fingers finally reached their destination and brushed his already-hardened cock.

He hissed in reply and finally sank two of his fingers into her, causing her to arch into the touch with a gasp. It wasn’t enough, though; it couldn’t possibly be enough, not when what she really needed was quite literally within her grasp.

Aelin let go of him in order to brace herself against his shoulder and wrap one leg around his hip. When he seemed to support them well enough, she carefully raised the other as well, hooking her ankles together behind him as he pulled his fingers out of her in order to brace himself better. Task complete, she moved to seat herself on his cock, only to hiss in irritation when it brushed along her instead. A second attempt yielded no better results, and when she tried for a third his hands settled at her waist to still her.

He then had the audacity to laugh at her, though she was somewhat gratified to hear how strained the sound was. “I told you I could think of far better places,” he reminded her.

“Shut up and help me figure this out,” she snarled, as quietly as she could.

“Hop down.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Get off of me and I’ll help you.”

“How does getting off of you get me off?” she demanded.

He sighed. “Just shut up and do it.”

She glared at him, trying to read his face for any signs he was being less than honest with her, but she could barely even make out the outline of him in the darkened closet. Scowling, she slid herself back down him until both of her feet were on the ground, only to gasp as his hands found her waist again and roughly turned her around.

He lifted her hips and she carefully balanced herself on the balls of her feet to aid him, hands gripping the nearest shelf for additional support. A few moments later she felt him press against her, and she sighed in relief as she finally got exactly what she’d been looking for when she’d put this outfit on what felt like forever ago.

His hands roughly grabbed her hips again as he immediately started to move, and as he slammed into her again and again he leaned forward until his lips were by her ear. “Touch yourself,” he hissed.

She obediently let her hand fall from the shelf and slid it down between her legs, gasping as she brushed over her clit. Gods, this wasn’t going to take long at all. It was probably for the best, though; surely it would only be a minute or two at most more before someone started to wonder where they had gone.

She came only moments later, gritting her teeth and fighting against the urge to press her thighs together in a move that would only serve to destabilize her already-precarious balance. She nearly did fall over, though, when he pulled away from her entirely.

As she stumbled and turned, she heard the sound of the zipper of his pants and the buckle of his belt, and she frowned. “I didn’t think you finished.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then why—?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Aelin, we’re out of time. You want more, you can find me after.”

She barely had time to straighten her skirt before he threw the door open and stalked away, and she blinked against the sudden light. Knowing she would need a minute for the heat in her cheeks and the wobbliness in her knees to dissipate, she slid down to sit on the closet floor and took a deep breath.

Suddenly, she went still as cold shock overtook her. He had said her name, her first name. He’d only ever done it once before, and she’d demanded he do so that time. What…?

Aelin shook her head. She didn’t have time to figure out whatever game he was playing now. She had a party to get back to, and if she played her cards right she might even get a second round out of it.

She would only be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want that, and she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Not right now. Not when there was still so much heat lingering between them.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests @stardelia @anidealiveson

[alinastracker]

malina week day 5 — free choice

false saint

a smutty one-shot inspired by taylor swift’s “false god” (ao3)

Alina Starkov had been one of the most powerful Grisha alive once, a saint —though a false one — to most of Ravka.

Maybe it was time to step into a different kind of power.

ruin and rising spoilers!

For the first time since they opened Keramzin up to Ravka’s orphaned children six months ago, the halls were quiet. Gone were the sounds of running feet and squealing laughter. Even though they only had four children, not including Misha, currently staying at the orphanage, happy children were often loud children, and it was the young couple’s top priority that the kids they took in were happy — as happy as any child who’s lost everything could be. 

The quiet was oddly startling, even though Alina knew that the children were perfectly fine, out on a trip into town with their teacher, Karine, and the orphanage’s gruff cook, Stasia. 

“Children should learn about their food early,” the woman had insisted, and so the little field trip into town had been planned. Karine went with, partly because five children were a handful for one woman, and partly because some of the children were still rather intimidated by Stasia. 

The children were safe, and Alina was enjoying the quiet. But every now and then, caught off guard by the stillness, came a flicker of panic, and she had to remind herself once more. The children are safe. The Darkling is dead. 

And though the home was quiet, she was not alone.

Alina pressed her forehead against one of the full length windows of the upstairs reading nook. They had wanted this room to be comfy and bright, and the large windows that faced the back of the property certainly assured that. She could see Mal down there, tending to the garden, his hands deep inside of the dirt. For a moment, she let all of her worries float away and pictured his fingers deep inside of her instead. She had to squeeze her thighs together as heat rushed to her center, demanding friction. 

The sun was shining brightly through the window, and so she angled herself to stand fully in its rays. Alina brought her hand up, letting her fingers play in the light, forcing her sinful thoughts away. She couldn’t say how long she stayed that way, lost in her longing, but it was long enough that Mal had finished in the garden and had come to sneak up behind her. 

“Playing with the light again?” he murmured as his arms wrapped around her. 

Alina nodded, leaning back against his chest.

Mal pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

It was what they always asked each other when they got into these moods, when she became entranced with the sunlight, and he found himself stuck silent and still in the woods. Sometimes the longing hurt, and sometimes it was just the pull to be in the element again — welcoming an old friend, rather than feeling the hole left in its absence. 

“I was just thinking that I miss the feeling sometimes,” Alina sighed. “When I summoned, it was like every inch of my skin was brushed with the softest warmth. I can feel something close to it sometimes, standing in the light like this. Just not as . . . wholly.” 

Mal was quiet for a moment, and she knew if she looked over her shoulder, she’d find the small pinch between his brows that indicated he was thinking. She knew the exact moment when his mind had come to a conclusion, feeling the way his body relaxed. 

“Perhaps,” he murmured, angling himself so his lips just brushed her ear as his hands moved to grip her hips, “it would help if the sun could hit every inch of you.” 

Desire returned thick between her thighs, if it had ever truly gone away. “What are you implying?”

“I think you know.”

He was right, she knew exactly what he meant. But they were out in the open, standing right in front of a window. The children were gone, though. The staff, too. There would always be the chance that someone came stumbling into their backyard and looked up, but maybe the risk made it all the better. 

She had been one of the most powerful Grisha alive once, a saint —though a false one — to most of Ravka.

Maybe it was time to step into a different kind of power.

She took one slow, steady breath, channeling her confidence. 

“Then undress me, Malyen.” 

Mal tensed for a singular breath, then brought his hands around her again, feeling his way up her chest until his fingers found the first button of her shirt. He took his time undoing each one, letting their skin brush each time more of her was bared. When he had the last button undone, the shirt was tossed lazily away. Mal’s hands continued their journey down her body, though her skirt took considerably less time to remove. 

Standing in nothing but her under clothes, Alina closed her eyes, soaking in the feeling of the sunlight brushing new parts of her. She thought for a moment that Mal might stop here. It could be enough, even if she still craved more. 

But he didn’t stop.

Mal hooked his fingers into the band of her underwear, and when she didn’t object, tugged them down. Alina stepped carefully out of the fabric, brushing it away with her foot. His fingers crawled up her backside then, and a moment later, her bra fell to the floor, letting the light consume her whole. 

Alina let her head fall back against Mal’s shoulder, bringing her hands up just as she used to when using her power. It wasn’t quite the same warmth that summoning had brought her, but it was something. 

Mal pressed his lips to the side of her neck and whispered, “Sankta.” 

Encompassed in the light, she almost felt like one. Mal had always had blind faith in her, had died for her. But saints had to prove they were worth the title. 

Alina turned, meeting his eyes. Mal could’ve sworn some of the light had stayed twinkling in her brown orbs. 

“Let me give you something to worship,” she said, and dropped to her knees.

Mal sucked in a sharp breath, but made no move to stop her as she worked to undo his trousers, dragging them down. His underwear came next, his half-hard cock happy to spring free. 

“You don’t have to—” he started. Alina shushed him. She spit into her hand — rather unceremonious for a saint, but alas — and gripped him. Any lingering words of Mal’s fell to the wayside as he moaned. 

It took very little time for him to harden fully with her stroking him. Still, she waited until he couldn’t possibly throb more for her, his cock hard as steel and bulging, before she brought him to her lips and sucked the tip of him into her mouth. 

Mal cursed fervently, his hand forming a fist in the tangles of her silky, pale hair.

Alina swirled her tongue around him, dipping into the place where his desire gathered for her, only encouraged by his curses and the almost painful pull on her scalp. His words were like a prayer, and he only got louder as she took in more of him, swallowing him down her throat even as her body protested. 

She still didn’t know if his size was a blessing or a curse. 

Mal was on the edge from the sight of her alone, those pretty lips he had spent years dreaming about perfectly parted around his cock. He saw the tears in her eyes, though, and so he began to pull back, only for Alina to grip his ass, nails digging into the skin of his backside. Let me, her eyes said, determined. And fuck if it didn’t make his hips thrust against her mouth. 

“Alina,” he moaned.

Her response was a brief, but not gentle, scrape of her teeth against him. Mal hissed, but he didn’t need to look at her to know where he had gone wrong

“Sankta,” he moaned instead, and it felt right. 

Even if she was a false saint, their love — and everything that came with it — was like their own personal religion, blind and eternal. Though the moan that ripped from Mal’s throat as his release hit was anything but holy. 

And this was what Alina had wanted more than anything — to bring him to the edge and push him over. It was a different kind of power, and she let the evidence of it dribble down her chin, droplets landing on her breasts and chest. Different than the blood a saint usually ended up covered in. Different, and much better. 

When she finished milking his release out of him, Alina stood. Backlit by the sun, she looked as saintly as she ever had. Mal licked his lips as he greedily took in the sight of her. She had, undoubtedly, given him something to worship. 

As any righteous man of faith would do before his saint, Mal dropped to his knees. It was not the first time Alina had driven men to kneel before her, and it would not be the last.

“Sankta Alina,” he whispered, bringing his lips to the altar between her thighs, his tongue forming a prayer that felt better than Alina thought possible. 

But it wasn��t just a prayer, it was a whole sermon — every lick, suck, and plunge a promise of his allegiance. He had her mewling and trembling above him in minutes, barely able to keep herself standing as he pushed her past her limits. And she thought, as he rose with his lips glistening from her cunt, that service was over. But Mal only turned her over and pressed her naked body against the window. The glass chilled her bare skin even as the sunlight warmed it.

Mal had his lips at her ear again. “I’m not done worshipping you yet,” he murmured, and smoothly thrust his hard-again cock inside of her. 

If anyone walked by outside or came into the reading nook, there would be no hiding their heavenly sinful act. To her surprise, Alina found the slightest thrill at a stranger discovering such a display. And as Mal fucked her with relentless devotion, she sent a prayer to the true saints that the glass held true. 

This time, they jumped over the edge together, in the way that only the faithful could. Screams on their lips, sweat dripping down their necks, pleasure so intense that it could only be called a religious experience. 

After, Mal scooped her into his arms and brought them to their room. He sat Alina on the bed, leaving briefly to gather wet rags for them. With a gentleness quite opposite from their frantic fucking, Mal cleaned the spend from her body, then his own, before taking the spot beside her, curling his body around hers. 

Though she may be a false saint, Alina could still feel the warmth of the sun on her skin as the peaceful call of sleep pulled her under, a smile on her face.

[elysianightsss]

It’s Just Business - one

Werewolf Steve Rodgers x reader series

Warnings for the series: fluffness, Bucky and Sam bickering like five year olds, smutty smut, bad language.

Part two

“Buck, I can feel her here.” Steve spoke, his figure frozen as his wolf tried clawing his way out. Fighting to find it’s mate.

“The only people here are the servants.” His beta replied patting his shoulder. “She’ll reveal herself soon enough.”

“Dinner is served.” An old man dressed in a penguin suit said poshly dragging out each syllable. Everyone gathered around the table taking their seats.

The woman of the house whispered something to the older looking maid, though to everyone else except her husband, they all heard it as though she shouted it.

“Get my daughter down here.” The maid scurried off and the woman plastered a fake smile upon her face. A few moments of waiting later, a sweet scent of vanilla, old books and rain filled Steve’s nostrils.

I walked into the dining room my hair swaying behind me, my outfit was too revealing for my mother’s taste, I could see it in her eyes when I walked in, but I suppose that’s why I wore it. Just to see her pissed off expression, it gave me a giddy feeling inside. Flashing a smile to the participants of tonight’s show. I couldn’t wait to see how my parent’s had planned to brag today.

“I apologise for being late.” I spoke clearly, sitting down at the end of the table, opposite to my father who gave me a small nod. I returned the gesture. Food was placed in front of me and my stomach lurched at the fancy pancy sustenance.

“Would so kill for a burger.” I grumbled quietly, but a muffled snort had me looking at a brunette. He wore his hair in a low man bun, his blue eyes deep. His black shirt suited the dark demeanour he held. Blinking away from our locked gazes, I tuned into the shrill sound of my mother’s voice as she conversed with their wonderful benefactors.

That’s who this meal was for. My father, the Mayor, had only a small handful of people he trusted his affairs to. The three people sat at this dining table were some of them. They gave my father his protection against politisions that might try and weave their way into his office. The three men lead an organisation that I wanted to stay far away from, one that snuck inside other organisations and gained power from knowing their secrets.

The other two groups of people gave my father his money and his immunity to do whatever he wanted to people and get away with it. It wasn’t that my father was a bad man, he had just done certain things to get where he was now. Certain things that gave him his status as Mayor, that gave him his money, that gave him all the secrets that filled his pockets.

My parent’s invite their benefactors over for dinner frequently but I always avoided them, with the excuse of studying or extra curricular activities. However this one I couldn’t get out of, I didn’t think of an excuse quick enough. Was too tired that day and now I had to munch on leafy soup instead of my usual burger and fries from my favourite diner.

I took the chance to look around at the other two men. One was a man who I’d actually met before, once at my Father’s office. His name was Sam, he was kind and funny. Made the meeting we had to sit through bearable with his jokes and the gift of sharing my sarcastic language. His dark purple shirt made him look some what posh, though the bored look in his eyes could of made me laugh until my stomach hurt.

The third man was absolutely gorgeous. He was the kind of man I wanted. All rugged and lumberjack like. His dirty blonde hair slightly overgrown, but not enough to be able to tie it back like the brunette. His beard had me clenching my legs together at the thought of beard burn on my thighs. Damn. How can someone be so hot? I didn’t know it was physically possible for a shirt to stretch that much. The dark blue material was clinging to his body for dear life, trying desperately not to break as he moved his arm up and down gulping down the green soup.

It seemed he was trying to eat it quickly, almost getting it over and done with. Better than having to endure the rath of my mother for refusing her ‘finest’ chef’s qu’usine. He seemed to noticed me staring at him but ignored it. His eyes were blue, they reminded me of the ocean. There was something reassuring about it.

“Miss Alexandra,” I looked to my left to see Martha my personal maid, “there’s a very important call for you.” She could hardly contain her excitement, too loud that everyone heard what she said. I glanced towards my mother who nodded, instantly I was out of my seat practically jogging to answer the phone.

“Hello?” I spoke, cringing at the eagerness in my tone.

“Miss. Culling?”

“Yes this is she.”

“This is Townsend University calling about your application for a scholarship. We wanted to let you know personally that we are declining your application. We’re very sorry.” The woman sounded as if she could care less.

“Can I ask the reason why?” My lip quivered making me bite down on it hard.

“You simply have too much money Miss. Culling. I’m sure your parents can help you in securing a place here. Other than that we have no other way to help you, I apologise. Have a good evening.” She hung up after spouting her bitter train of thought.

My breath came out shaky matching my unsteady hand as I placed the phone down. Covering my mouth to stop any sobs from escaping.

“Oh my dear.” Martha wrapped her arms around my shoulders stroking a wrinkled hand through my straightened hair. “Maybe you should call your brother. Not the silly whipper snapper but the golden troublemaker.” She chuckled at the thought of the boys she basically raised. She was right.

“Little sister to what do I owe the honour?”

“Townsend University rejected me.” I fought the tears that wanted nothing more but to ruin the mascara I’d put on earlier this evening.

“Oh Alexandra. I’m so sorry. Did they say why?”

“Our parent’s money. Same as the others. How did you do it Bash?” My foot tapped against the hard wood floor waiting impatiently for some kind of way to fix my problem.

“Back when I was completing mother and father’s task, colleges only cared about having someone of title on their campus to get a higher status. Now all they care about is money.” He scoffed.

“I don’t have any other options left. Bash what do I do?” I begged him to tell me.

“Why don’t you come here for a few days? You can relax while I think of a plan. Get you out of that retched house.” I heard him flipping through a book and I knew it was his calendar.

“Are you sure Lara won’t mind?” I inquired after his pregnant wife.

“Never she adores you, you know that. Just get through the evening little sister and I’ll have a car come pick you up.” He hummed through the phone.

“Thankyou brother.” I hung up and took a series of deep breaths. I sighed making my way back inside the room.

“Who was it my dear?” Mother asked with a slight glare that if anyone else saw it, they’d assume it was motherly concern. I was not anyone else.

“Bash called.” I replied sitting down next to the lumberjack who’s eyes burned a whole in my head.

“Oh our eldest son, he is a delight.” My mother chirped.

“Isn’t he just.” I quipped under my breath. I loved my brother dearly but I couldn’t help but be slightly jealous of the affection he gained from both my parents when I had none.

“I’m staying there for a few days before finals start.” I smiled at her. She seemed to think it over for a moment before glancing at my father.

“I think it’s a good idea.” He shrugged and went back to whatever they were talking about before I came back in.

Soon dinner was over, it took far too long for my liking. My father and his benefactors retired to his office for a while. My mother on the phone to one of her stupid friends bitching about something I didn’t care to listen to. I just wanted this evening to be over.

“Miss, your father would like a word.” Omg did he know already? Did he find out I had failed? No! He couldn’t! He promised to stay out of it until the end of the year. Wiping my sweating hands on my jumpsuit, I knocked on the office door and went in.

My Father’s office wasn’t too big or too small. The double doors I stepped through were made from a dark wood like everything else. There were books covering every inch of the right wall and a window on the left one. In the middle was a big desk my stoic parent sat at. The three men scattered around the room. The brunette sat at the windowsill. The blonde stood leaning against the bookshelf. And Sam sat in the left of the two chairs sitting opposite my fathers desk. I took the right and waited expectantly.

“You’re going to stay with Steve here until the end of summer.” He gestured to the blonde from earlier. Steve Rodgers. That was it? That’s all my father had to stay.

“Why?” I wouldn’t usually question my father but something in me pushed to ask. I had a right to know.

“I said you’d be sent somewhere this year for your survival skills and this is it. Anything could happen at any moment. You could be kidnapped or this very house could be held hostage. I have be sure I’m not worrying about you in case that happens. I need to know that I can focus of the business side of it not emotion.” He grunted. As if he had any emotions at all.

“The end of summer...starting when?” My nails dug into my palms, I started to feel so angry. I was eighteen years old for Christ sake and he was sending me away like he did when I was a child to summer camps so he didn’t have to deal with me.

“After you come back from your brother‘s house.” Suddenly I never wanted to come back from Bash’s house.

“But that’s eight months.” I sputtered, this was ridiculous. He was sending me away for almost a year give or take a few months.

“You dare question me in my own home?” He leaned forward on his desk glaring me down. I had glared back before and had faced the consequences. Not this time.

“No father. I’ll start packing the second I’m home.” I lowered my head.

“Good. Now get out.” I didn’t need to be told twice. The moment the door closed behind me I ran to my room pulling a bag out from my closet, packing what I’d need for a few days away and leaving without a goodbye. The car was already waiting for me just as Bash had promised.

“Thank. You. Bash.” I grinned getting inside the black car and telling the driver to step on it. Thoughts plagued my mind while I gazed out the window at the big trees.

Why was I being sent away? Why so long? Why didn’t my parents love me enough to want me to stay? Was it my fathers idea? How the fuck was I going to make a plan to complete my parent’s task if I’m up in the forest? Was it the forest or mountains? Or both?

But the question I didn’t expect my mind to conjure up left me slapping my hand against my head to pushed it away.

Was I going to enjoy living with the big sexy lumberjack called Steve?

[dead-end-street]

690 with Chayenzo pls and thank you ^^

Thanks for the prompt for "on an island". I had intended for this to be shorter but then my hand slipped and it accidentally got smutty lmao enjoy~~

(Read on ao3)

---

The night breeze was stronger than usual on Pagliuzza. A gust of wind blew through Vincenzo’s open window, sending a stack of papers on his nightstand fluttering to the floor. His eyes snapped open, hand immediately going for the gun tucked between the mattress and the headboard above his head. After a few moments he realized there was no intruder — not that there would be on his secluded and secure private island — but a year and a half after living here, he still found himself reverting back to old habits.

Especially now.

He walked to the window, pushing the billowing, white curtain aside to look out at the waning moon in the sky. Something caught his eye down below and he saw a figure walking towards the beach, partially obstructed by the trees. When they reached the sand, he could finally make out that it was her.

---

Hong Cha-young stood alone on the beach, the warm breeze making her oversized sleep shirt shirt, which normally reached just above her knees, ride up slightly. She had arrived that morning after what felt like days of travel, greeted by the most beautiful man in the world, whom she now could finally call her own. The whole day seemed surreal; from finally being back together with him, to touring his island and the villa he’d built with her in mind, to the way his staff already treated her like she was part of the family as if they’d known her for years. He had told her that evening after dinner to get some rest in her room — the one he’d designed specifically for her — and given her a quick kiss that made her want more. She had wanted to object but her yawns kept sabotaging her plans to sneak into his room and before she knew it, she had passed out on her four-poster bed.

A few hours later she woke up feeling much better but suddenly wide awake despite it being only 3 in the morning. After a few more attempts to sleep, she gave up and decided to get some air. She loved the feeling of the cool sand between her toes, the grains exfoliating the bottoms of her feet as she walked towards the water. The moon was getting lower in the sky, the perfect crescent shape hanging above the waves. In all the hustle and bustle of the day she hadn’t actually had a chance to touch the water yet. She started walking again towards the waves beckoning her closer when she thought she heard someone call her name.

Peering over her shoulder she saw Vincenzo in a white t-shirt and what were probably Boorlaro silk pyjama shorts. When he got closer she could finally see his face better in the dark, hair tousled by the wind and a small smile on his face.

“Jetlag?” he asked and she nodded. “It will take a few days for you to fully switch over to this timezone. The trick is lots of water, eating meals at the right time for this timezone, and vitamin D.”

She smirked at the last part and stepped closer so she was right in his space. “So will you just feed me on the beach all day while I soak up the sun like a — what do they call them? Oh, cabana boy!”

He snorted and ran his hand up and down her arm. “Sure, if it would make you happy.”

His smile seemed so carefree — a look she hadn’t seen often on him when he was in South Korea. It suited him.

She turned away and continued her trek towards the water with him quickly falling into step with her.

“I can’t go the day without having dipped my toes in the Mediterranean Ocean!”

“Sea,” he corrected her. “It’s the Mediterranean Sea.”

“Whatever.”

A few more steps and she was ankle deep in the sea, surprised at how warm it was. She walked in a bit deeper until the waves were lapping at her knees and she pulled her sleep shirt up higher so it wouldn’t get wet.

“Is it always this warm?” she called behind her.

“What?”

The strong gusts had finally stopped but the breeze was still blowing at a good rate, making her words lost in the wind.

“The water. Is it always this wam?” she shouted a bit louder this time.

“It’s the warmest now because it’s August, but in the winter it can get down to 15ºC.”

“Ooh, so I came at the perfect time then!” she said, and began to walk a bit deeper, the water now at her thighs. She had to jump a few times to avoid an oncoming swell of water and to keep her clothes dry.

“You should come back inside, it’s late.”

“Don’t you want to join me? The water is so warm and the breeze is so refreshing.”

He shook his head and remained on dry land, which only made her want to do something naughty. She pretended to give up and walk back to him but at the last second, she flung her leg up, kicking a spray of water at him, then ran away cackling. She looked back and saw his nostrils flare, his white shirt almost soaked through and probably his shorts as well. She shrieked when she saw him start walking into the water towards her — a dark, predatory look in his eyes. She tried to run faster but forgot that running in water and on sand was not an easy feat. She almost lost her balance when she looked back at him again, realizing that he was much quicker than she’d expected, and let out an undignified squeal when his hand latched onto her wrist pulling her towards him. She crashed into his damp chest and looked up in time to see him dipping his head slowly, eyes fixed on her lips. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up, waiting for his lips to meet hers when suddenly she felt herself being pushed and falling backwards into the waves.

“YA!” she sputtered, when she emerged from the water to see a huge mischievous grin on his face. He took a step back but she was faster this time and hooked her foot around his ankle, making him topple into the water next to her.

When he surfaced, he looked annoyed, probably mad about his expensive Boorlaro being ruined by saltwater. She knew the only way to take his mind off of it was to distract him, so she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Wet bangs clung to his forehead and she smiled softly. Leaning in, she finally captured his lips with her in a proper kiss. He tasted salty from the seawater but also minty from his toothpaste. She angled her head to one side and he opened his mouth wider, tongue coming out to caress hers. The waves made her lose her balance slightly but he pulled her closer to him, one arm firmly gripping her waist, while the other hooked under one of her knees, pulling her leg around him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders for support, then hopped up and wrapped both legs around him.

The water was warm, but his skin felt warmer under her skin. His shirt had floated up in the water and her bare legs were flush against his exposed torso. She realized her own shirt had floated up, his hand splayed across her back, under the shirt. She wasn’t sure if she could blame the jetlag for this light-headed feeling when there was this much bare skin pressed together, slick and smooth underwater.

He kissed her again and she forgot all about the jetlag, only focusing on the way he deepened it, then pulled back, sucking slightly on her upper lip. She couldn’t help the slight roll of her hips against him but it caught him off guard. He stumbled back a few steps, the water barely reaching his hips now. Had they been pushed closer to the shore? She looked back and the shore somehow seemed farther away.

“It’s the tide going out. It will be low tide in a few hours,” he explained between kisses pressed to the side of the throat and collarbone.

His fingers on her chin turned her head back to him. Back to his hungry mouth that kissed a path from her neck, up her jawline to the edge of her lips. Dipping her head again she kissed him back, moving one of her hands up to the back of his head, raking her fingers through his wet hair.

A gust of wind made her shiver against him, the air feeling much cooler than the water temperature. He wrapped his arm around her tighter and lowered himself so he was on his knees and the water came up to his neck and her chest. She contemplated unhooking her legs from his waist but his hand gripped her thigh and held her there. He ran his hand up and down her leg slowly, ending at her knee, then creeping back up higher and higher. She shivered again, pressing her chest into his, her nipples hard from the cool air. She needed to get lower in the water so her shoulders would be covered by the warm water, so she loosened her leg grip and shimmed down lower, relying on the buoyancy of the salt water to keep her afloat while she readjusted herself. A small wave came from behind her, knocking her into him, causing her core between her legs to rub into his pelvis.

Silk pyjamas left very little to the imagination but now there was no imagination required. He was getting hard against her and the way he broke the kiss to let out a groan gave her goosebumps that had nothing to do with the wind.

“We should probably stop before this goes too far,” he said, shakily, the lower parts of their bodies still pressed together with nothing but his shorts and her underwear separating them.

“Do you want to stop?” she asked, fingers still in his hair.

He let out a long breath and shook his head, “not really, but—”

“Then let’s not stop.”

He laughed against her lips and readjusted his grip so he held her with her left arm instead. His right hand came up to brush her now damp hair away from her face so he could see her better.

“We should go out a bit deeper, it’s getting too shallow again.”

She nodded and slipped off of him, her bottom hitting the sand sooner than she expected. The water somehow felt cool against her skin that had been flush against his warm body for so long. Instead of standing, they both swam a bit further out, with only their heads above the water. When he reached a spot where the water came to his mid-chest, he pulled her closer to him, hands sliding down her back as he kissed along her jawline. In a swift movement, he lifted her up, his hands on her ass, holding her in place against him. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him again.

Her heart was pounding after their short swim but mostly in anticipation of what was to come. She enjoyed the feeling of his large hands cupping her bottom and squirmed a little in his grip. He was harder than before and he let out a ragged breath when she ground her hips into him, at slow and steady rhythm.

She kissed him again, never tiring of the way he always met her ferocious energy, nipping at her lips and dragging his teeth across her skin. She wondered why they never gave into their desires when he was in Korea. There were more than enough chances for them to cross the line and she hadn’t been shy about her feelings, but there was always something or someone in the way or they hesitated too long and the moment had passed.

While she was sad for all the time they had wasted not getting together sooner, she couldn’t ignore the fact that this was one hell of a way to make themselves official — on a private island in the middle of the Mediterranean, half-naked under the moonlight. They never did things in half measures.

Vincenzo’s shirt floated past her and began to sink as it got heavier with water. Somewhere between making out and grinding into him, she’d missed when he removed his shirt. She looked down but could barely make anything out below the surface of the water. Instead, she ran her hands down the flat planes of his chest and stomach, revelling in the new expanse of bare skin. His palms slipped under her shirt and along her back but she wanted him closer, so she leaned back so she could tug it over her head. Her favourite sleep shirt sank to join his, somewhere in the watery depths below them.

The water lapped at her chest, the tops of her small breasts almost visible in the moonlight. He hoisted her up slightly higher so he could dip his head to kiss and lick down her chest and take one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh, fu—” she gasped. His hot tongue swirling around her nipple then trailing along her chest to kiss and suck the other one.

Using her feet she tried to push his shorts down since her hands were busy holding onto him so she didn’t sink. He quickly got the message and helped her with one hand to finally push them down over his hips and he was free.

Reaching between them, she lowered her hand down his abdomen and held him at the base, gently running her fingers up and down to prepare herself for what to expect since she couldn’t see a thing past a few inches underwater. She looked back up at his face and couldn’t help smiling at the intense gaze that stared back at her. He was trying his best to keep his breathing under control but she could tell he was struggling. She snaked her other hand around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss that felt different from the others. It tasted sweeter, somehow.

As much as she wanted to savour this moment, another more animalistic side of her wanted them to finally give in. She needed him inside her. Now. Without breaking the kiss she pulled her underwear to one side then moved closer to him. As if he read her mind, he released his grip on her slightly so she could slide down further and pressed up into her as slowly as he could bear it.

It was her turn to gasp — pressing her forehead to his, eyes squeezed shut — breaking the kiss momentarily. Gripping his shoulders and back, she began to roll her hips, sliding back slightly then dropping back down as he filled her up. The hands on her hip and ass dug into her skin as they moved together. Everything was slipperier in the water and she slid off him a couple times, resulting in giggles from both of them. She dug her heels into his thighs to anchor herself better, switching the angle slightly so she could slip her hand between them again to circle her clit. He quickened the pace incrementally, opting to continue with several quick pumps followed by a few long, deep thrusts.

Their lips met again, a little sloppy from the change in angle and the gradually frantic movements happening underwater, but still good. She would never tire of kissing him. She could feel herself getting close and could only imagine he was too. There was time later for slow, drawn out sex in an actual bed, but there was only one opportunity to have sex for the first time with your ride-or-die partner in the sea. She could truly say this was most unconventional place she’d had sex.

A flurry of Italian poured from his mouth as his nails dug into her hip and his pace slowed for a moment for him to catch his breath. She could tell he was trying to make it last longer but she was ready to go over the edge and drag him with her. She squeezed around him as she accelerated the movement of her hand around her clit and rocked her hips into him a tiny bit harder. Her breath came out in short bursts, chest heaving as she could feel her first orgasm claim her. She slowed her fingers as she clenched around him, her body jerking as she clung to him. Her hand got trapped between them when he pulled her closer to pump harder into her. She could feel another orgasm building from the friction between their joined bodies and it crashed over her unexpectedly. He finally couldn’t hold on any longer, a long moan escaping his lips, and his head falling to rest on her shoulder. He slipped out of her before he came and part of her was sad for the loss of heat between her legs. She wrapped her body around him again as they bobbed in the water, feeling heavy despite the salt water keeping them afloat.

He peppered kisses down her neck and shoulder, whispering phrases that sounded foreign to her ears but mixed with words she understood. Again, she felt light-headed but blissfully happy. She gave him a kiss and untangled herself from him to stand on her own two feet, which almost gave out at first. He slipped an arm around her waist to steady her.

“That was incredible,” he said, an air of disbelief in his voice after he pulled his shorts back up.

“I’m exhausted but I can’t wait to do that again tomorrow,” Cha-young said, with a sleepy wink as they walked back to the shore.

He chuckled, “next time, we need to do it on a surface that doesn’t move. I almost drowned us out there near the end.”

As they emerged from the water they both realized their tops were missing. Looking back into the dark sea, they knew it was a lost cause to go searching for them now. At least he had shorts but all she had on was a pair of navy blue underwear. Crossing her arms across her chest, she let him wrap his arm around her shoulder to lead her back towards the villa. He paused to turn on the outside shower for them to rinse off the salt and sand from their bodies before hurrying inside, both of them dripping on the tile floor.

---

When they’d both finally gotten dry and changed into another set of sleepwear, he knocked on her door to see if she needed anything else.

“Come in,” came her soft voice behind the door and he let himself in. She was curled up in bed, eyes closed, clutching a pillow. “Stay with me.”

He nodded and shut off the light before sliding under the covers behind her. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him so she was flush with his body.

“I’m really happy you’re finally here,” he said into her hair.

“Mm, me too,” she mumbled, already drifting into a deep sleep.

He had wanted to tell her something else but sleep claimed him too quickly. They both fell asleep soundly before the sun began to rise.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[vintagedolan]

alone (egd)

it’s not very often that you and ethan get the house to yourselves... and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of it

word count: 8k (holy shit haha)

warnings/tags: smutty smutty smut lets goooo, christening the house hehe,  ITS A WILD RIDE 

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

It was almost like watching a scene in a sappy romance movie, but instead of the typical girl in the sundress with the handsome man, it was two handsome 6 foot tall men standing outside the airport, staring at each other uncomfortably.

“Just make sure you text me when you land. You got your charger and everything?”

“Yeah E, I’ve got it. I’m gonna miss my plane man, I gotta go,” Grayson said, but he wasn’t moving, obviously unsure of what exactly to do.

“Bye Gray, have fun and be safe,” you decided to step in, giving him a goodbye hug. He squeezed you back, swaying a little bit back and forth.

“Keep him alive and fed for me, will yah?” Gray teased, ruffling your hair like he always did before letting you go.

“I think I can manage that for four days,” you teased, stepping back. There was an odd awkwardness in the air - the twins weren’t very experienced in saying goodbye.

You stood to the side, watching them hug. It was a genuine one, with just a hint of unease in it - the boys hadn’t spent this much time away from each other since they did their one week without each other video. 

When they were done, the two of you waved at Grayson until he was out of sight inside the terminal. And then you climbed back into the tesla, you in the passenger seat like usual.

And it was time for the real fun to begin.

Riding in the car with Ethan was one of your favorite little parts of your relationship. It was such a simple thing, to sit next to him in the passenger seat with the music playing. And his hand was always on you somehow - fingers intertwined, pressing kisses to the back of your hand. But it wasn’t often that you didn’t have Grayson in the back seat. This time was different.

As soon as he was merged back onto the highway, his hand was on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the bare skin left by your shorts. It was innocent enough to start, but his fingers trailed higher and higher with each mile he drove, and when you looked over he was chewing on his lip - one of his tells.

“Mind on the road,” you teased, but you opened your legs just barely anyways.

“Baby I drive a tesla. My mind can be anywhere,” he reminded you, a bit of his ego popping through.

“We’re five minutes from home,” you breathed as his hand moved further up, brushing over the zipper of your shorts. There was a nervous energy filling the car, and it reminded you of how you felt before you slept together for the first time. You felt giddy at the thought of having Ethan all to yourself, and the house empty except for the two of you, for four whole days. 

“Wanna make sure you’re ready,” he said, voice low and gruff. It sent chills across every inch of your skin. 

“Oh trust me, I am,” you sighed, squirming just barely as he rubbed over your skin. He knew exactly how to press your buttons and get you worked up in a matter of minutes.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing your thigh. He edged the speedometer up, wheels flying over payment in a desperate bid to get home even a few minutes earlier. 

“Hey, we can’t fuck if you crash before we get home,” you reminded him, messing with your nails. When you looked over at him, his pupils were blown wide, incredulous. The easiest way to get him worked up was with your words, and you used it sparingly, knowing if you always said all the dirty things in your mind that it wouldn’t hold the same effect when you decided to use it. It was the only way you could even the playing field - Ethan could have you in a puddle with one touch. 

He slowed down, but only a fraction, and you were itching to get home just as much as he was, maybe more. The gates at the end of the driveway felt like they took an eternity to open when Ethan punched in the code, and you had already undone your seatbelt before he even had smooth cat in park. 

You both jumped out of the car, giddy like unsupervised teenagers. He took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he started towards the house. To your surprise, he didn’t open the door immediately. Instead, he turned to you, catching your hips with his hands.

“I have a proposition.” 

“Oh do you now.”

“New house. All to ourselves for four days.” 

“Mhmmm.” Not sure why we’re not acting on that right about now, you wanted to say, but you held your tongue. 

“Christening.” The word hung in the night air for a moment, slowly disappearing into the song the crickets were making. Images flashed through your mind of all the furniture, the floor plan, the layout. Fuck.

“You bought a very large house, with a lot of rooms,” you started. His face fell just a fraction, and his lips parted as he started his rebuttal. You stopped him with a finger. 

“We better get started.” 

night one, 11pm, living room two

You’d never realized just how soft the purple sectional was; probably because this was the first time you were naked on it. Ethan had made quick work of everything you had on as he lead you in the door, past the small living room, through the kitchen and dining room, and into the small sunken living room two, as they called it.

“Odd first choice,” you mused, not really caring where you were. All you were worried about was the fact that Ethan was still fully clothed, which was wildly unfair in your opinion. 

“Well, we’ve already done our room and bathroom, so no need for repeats. Not gonna do Grayson’s room or bathroom, cause that’s just weird. Figured we could work our way across the house. Living room two, dining room, kitchen, living room one. Come back and get the office, guest bathroom, laundry room.” He listed off the rooms like he was reading from the floor plan as he shed his shirt and started to work on his belt.

“You’ve really got this planned out huh. Been daydreaming about having sex with me all over the house?” The smirk on your face was playful, and he just laughed, shaking his head as he shoved his Louis V pants down his legs along with his boxer briefs and stepped out of them.

“I’m always thinking about having sex with you. Duh.” He crawled over top of you, coaxing you to lay down flat on the couch. One of your favorite things about sex with Ethan was that it was always versatile, and not just in positions. You’d had every mood of sex in the book - playful, funny, dirty, kinky, angry. You were so comfortable around each other it wasn’t even funny.

So you weren’t surprised in the slightest that he nudged your hip with his knee and muttered ‘scootch’ so he could get himself comfortable above you. And you also weren’t surprised when you both realized that there was no way in hell that this position was going to work in any way, shape or form on that narrow ass couch.

“Floor?” He asked.

“Floor,” you confirmed, following him as he rolled off you and onto his back on the rug. Now you were hovering over him, straddled over his abs. His hands found the back of your thighs, pushing lightly.

“Come up here,” he grinned, and you knew exactly what he was asking for. You maneuvered your way up until you were hovering above his face. 

“Let the christening... begin,” he said in his most dramatic voice, smile wide on his face as his hands came up onto your thighs to pull you down closer to him.

“That’s the cheesiest shit you’ve eve- oh.”

“Mmmm, what was that?” He asked, pulled away from where he’d just been.

“Nothing! Nothing,” you squeaked, suddenly desperate for him to put his mouth back on you. He obliged, starting to work you over slowly. You shifted your weight onto your knees so you could get closer to him, hands going to his hair, which was finally getting just long enough for you to get a grip on. 

It didn’t take long for him to set a rhythm with his tongue that has your hips grinding, thighs shaking just barely at the tension of you holding yourself at just the right height. He’s always been so damn good with his mouth, even since the first time you slept together.

But it wasn’t until you bit down on your fist as you came that you hear him groan, and he’s tapping on your thigh, signaling you to dismount. You climbed off, catching your breath and relaxing your muscles, coming down. 

“What’d you bite your fist for?” He asked, sitting up and moving towards you like he had on the couch, coaxing you down onto your back again, his fingers ghosting over you.

“Didn’t do it on purpose.” You were still a bit breathless as he ducked down to kiss you.

“Well for once we don’t have to be quiet. Wanna hear you babe, while we can,” he said, more of a request than a demand. You nodded in response as he lifted up slightly, lining himself up. You let your legs fall open to the sides, giving him more room as he dipped down, grazing over your folds. 

You let out the breath you’d been holding as he pushed in, moving slow and easy. He held himself up on his hands, which were splayed on the floor above your shoulders to hold you in place. You bit down on your lip, a force of habit.

He grunted above you, moving down to his forearms, rolling his hips as he shifted his weight to one side so he could bring a thumb up, guiding your lip out from under your teeth.

“What’d I just say,” he groaned, a hint of dominance creeping into his tone. You just nodded, overwhelmed as he continued to stretch you out.

“Fuck E,” you moaned, hands coming up onto the skin of his back, nails dragging down. A tiny part of your brain realized it felt weird to be so loud, but the pleasure took over that as you felt everything start to tighten, an overwhelming feeling that you’d become familiar with.

“God, I can feel that,” Ethan breathed, speeding up the roll of his hips, somehow getting even deeper than he already was. “Shit baby, you feel so good.” 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you whined, pulling him as close as you could, lifting your hips up just barely to meet him. The new angle was electric, just the tiny shift making all the difference, and suddenly your thighs were shaking and you could feel him release, filling you up before he collapsed on top of you. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed, rolling off you smoothly. You were only on your back for a second before his arm wrapped around your shoulder, rolling you over onto him. 

“We’re gonna have to pace ourselves if we’re gonna make it through every room in the house,” you laughed, trying to catch your breath. He ran his fingers over your back, feather light over your spine. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna wear me out,” he laughed with you, reaching his other hand up to run through his hair.

“Your fault, you bought a big ass house,” you grinned, squishing your cheek against him, smiling when you heard the rumble of his laughter in his chest.

Eventually, he somehow mustered the energy to get the two of you to your feet and back towards your room, the unspoken agreement that you were done for the night. 

“We should shower,” you mumbled.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Ethan answered, crawling onto the sheets.

“E! We’re gross!” 

“Totally disgusting,” he agreed, curling up further into the bed. You thought for a moment about trying to drag him to the shower, but it was no use. If he didn’t wanna move, you couldn’t make him - you’d learned that lesson many times.

Instead, you gave in and crawled over to him, peppering kisses on his bare back. “You’re washing the sheets tomorrow.”

“Deal,” he sighed, twisting to wrap you up in his arms before you both fell asleep.

morning one, 9:42am, kitchen

As you did every morning, you headed into the kitchen alone. The wood was cold against your bare feet, sending goosebumps up your legs. You’d thrown on one of E’s shirts out of habit, but skipped the shorts when you remembered that the house was empty aside from a quietly snoring Ethan. 

You made yourself a cup of coffee and turned on the speakers, just loud enough that they might wake Ethan up. The playlist that was just a massive dump of every song the three of you liked started to roll through, and you danced along to it, deciding to make a more complicated breakfast than normal. If there was one thing you could cook, it was breakfast. 

The boys had started to branch out and find more vegan substitutes, so you were happy to find all the ingredients you needed to make vegan breakfast bagels - an egg substitute, vegan cheese, even veggie sausage that would work great. While everything cooked away, you cut up some fruit and sipped at your coffee, getting more and more into the music as it played, especially when your favorite Cudi song came on - the boys had gotten you hooked as soon as you moved in, said it was a ‘house rule’ that you stan Cudi.

Lost in your own little world as you scrambled the ‘eggs’, the poke to your hip made you squeal and almost drop the spatula. You turned and saw E, a goofy close lipped smile on his face.

“What’d you poke me for?” You grinned, getting up on your tiptoes to kiss him good morning. He answered by poking your cheek again, then squeezing it gently between his thumb and his index finger.

“Just makin’ sure you’re real, and that I’m not dreamin’,” he sighed, brushing some hair back from your face, proud of the blush he brought to your cheeks.

“You’re such a simp.” You turned back to the ‘eggs’, cutting off the burner, happy they were done so you could give him your full attention for a few minutes.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” you countered. “Okay maybe not a simp, but definitely a sap. Over here poking me to make sure I’m not a dream,” you teased, but you loved every second of it.

“But you are a dream,” he said in his most dramatic voice, hands going to your waist to guide you away from the stove. With one swift move he spun you around and lifted you up so you were suddenly sitting on the island, now just a hair taller than him.

“I wake up to you, cooking a damn good vegan breakfast in my kitchen, with Cudi on the speakers, in my shirt-” he reached for the hem, moving it slightly up from where it sat on your thighs, obviously expecting shorts. He groaned when he didn’t find any.

Immediately, his hand was coming around to the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair as he pulled you down towards him, lips on yours. Usually his kisses were a bit lazy in the morning, but right now he was more than awake, and you could tell. 

It wasn’t another minute before he was guiding you backwards and you were laying on the counter, cold marble setting all your nerve endings on fire as his fingers hooked into your panties and pulled them down in one swift motion.

He pressed kisses to your thighs, morning scruff tickling your skin as he made his way up, coaxing your legs to open for him. It was on odd sensation being out in the open like this, but you didn’t have the energy to care once his mouth was on you.

“Fucking shit,” you groaned, the sensitivity left from last night elevating things immediately. 

“All good?” He murmured, looking up to you for reassurance. He knew your body almost as well as you did by now, knew you’d be sensitive.

“Yeah, yeah keep going.” You were practically begging for it already and it had only been a few seconds. He started with long, flat tongue licks that he knew would have you squirming, even if he didn’t add a finger like he did.

“Jesus E, fuck,” you whimpered, fingers grasping at the smooth counter, desperate to find something to hold onto as he worked you over. He just hummed against you, satisfied that you were being vocal and adding to the sensation all at the same time. 

His tongue moved up to your clit and you gasped, sitting up slightly and grabbing at his head, fingers trying to find purchase in his short hair. It didn’t faze him in the slightest and he continued his work, knowing you were close.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” you squeaked, body tensing up and then relaxing all at once, causing you to collapse back onto the counter. You barely had enough left in you to make sure that your head didn’t hit the marble. 

“Well, kitchen can get checked off,” he breathed, pressing kisses to your skin as you tried to settle back down. After a few moments he helped you sit up, leaving you to relax while he picked up where you left off with breakfast as if nothing had just happened. That was one of your favorite things about Ethan - he was a giver, through and through, and he never did anything to get something in return.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to repay the favor.

“You are getting the best head of your life later, so prepare yourself.” You tried to stay serious, but your voice was still a bit breathless as you came up beside him. 

“Like I said. Absolute. Dream. My fuckin’ girl,” he smiled, reaching a hand around to cup your ass and pull you up against his side as he continued to cook. 

evening one, 6:33pm, the laundry room

You watched him put the blue liquid into the washer, filling up the little cap and putting it into the little container on the right side. You weren’t sure why, but watching Ethan do domestic shit was one of the hottest things to you. 

“Did you just put fabric softener in with the sheets?”

“Of course I did,” he responded with a smirk. 

“Absolute. Dream. My fuckin’ guy.” You quoted him from earlier with a smug grin, moving from where you were watching in the doorway to right beside him. The washer started to hum, filling up with water as you spun him around so his back was against it.

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow, looking at you in surprise - you weren’t usually the one to initiate things, not because you didn’t want to, but because Ethan usually beat you to the punch.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pulled on the waistband of his shorts and briefs, reaching down to find his cock, which was already rising to your attention.

“Laundry huh? That’s what does it for you?” Ethan said, trying to seem unaffected, but his breath was already catching in his throat. He always got very overwhelmed when you took care of him like this - he was so used to being the giver, sometimes he wasn’t exactly sure what to do as the receiver. 

“Shhh, just relax. I told you to prepare for this, remember?” You teased, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him while you pushed his shorts and briefs down. They pooled around his feet and you followed them, sinking to your knees.

“Fucking shit.” He breathed it out, barely audible over the machinery behind him that he started to brace on as you took him in your mouth. 

You just hummed as you worked him over, knowing exactly where to get him weak in the knees. He liked slow, long strokes at first, but you surprised him by coming up to cup his balls, rolling them in your hand.

“Oh fuckkkk,” he whined, thigh twitching and hand coming down to your hair. His fingers tangled in it and you didn’t ease up at all, knowing you were about to get him right where you wanted him. 

You backed off for just a second, just to see his reaction as you looked up at him. His eyes had been closed for a bit, knuckles white as he gripped onto the washer. But with the loss of contact they flew open, just as you wanted them to.

With his eyes on you, you grabbed onto his hips, opening wide and taking him as far down your throat as you could. You fought the urge to gag, grinning a bit when his hips stuttered and his breath hitched. He even bent over slightly, body unsure of how to handle feeling so good. 

He wasn’t even forming words anymore when you started to suck again, paying special attention to the vein that ran along the side as he practically came undone.

When your hand came back up to his balls, he was done for. He came quickly, and you let it slide down your throat, leaving him in your mouth until he guided you off. 

You stood up proudly, wiping the corner of your mouth with your shirt while you waited for him to catch his breath. 

“You are incredible,” were the words he chose, boosting your ego and making you blush all at the same time. 

But you didn’t get a chance to respond, because suddenly he was bending down, your hips colliding with his shoulder as he scooped you up, grabbing onto your legs as he stood up.

“Ethan!” You squealed, bracing your hands on his lower back to hold yourself up. “Your ass is literally in my face.”

“You love it,” he teased, reaching up to give an easy slap to yours, making you  squeak as he headed to the next room.

evening one, 7:07pm, guest bathroom

He didn’t even sit you down - he just waltzed right into the shower, opening the glass door and turning on the water. 

“Cold, cold cold cold!” You gasped as the water ran over your back, hitting your shirt and soaking the fabric through. 

He didn’t react to the water - he only squatted down so he could put you on your feet, hands immediately going to your waist to push you up against the wall. The water was starting to warm up, but the tile was so cold that it still took your breath. 

It wasn’t helping that Ethan’s touch was making you feel like your skin was on fire, flushed and warm as he bent down slightly to catch your nipple in his mouth through your shirt. You moaned at that, back arching off the tiles when he nipped at it with his teeth. 

“Not supposed to shower with clothes on,” you whimpered, already overwhelmed by just his hands on you.

“Not gonna shower, don’t even have soap in here. Christening, remember?” He whispered it, barely audible over the sound of the water hitting the floor. You didn’t have to ask his plans - he showed you, one hand moving to cup your core. He groaned when he felt a different kind of wet.

“All this, just from sucking my cock huh? Don’t deserve you, truly,” he grinned, hand coming up to the waist of your panties and yanking. The fabric tore, making you gasp.

Somehow, Ethan was already impossibly hard again, ready for another round. He pinned your hips back against the wall, foot pushing your legs just a little wider so he could line himself up. He pushed up in one swift stroke, stretching you out yet again. Somehow, it was even better than the day before, and you were so lost in the bliss you barely felt him pull your shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked.

“Fuck E, feels so good,” you moaned, arms going around his neck as he started his rhythm, deliciously slow yet fast enough at the same time. Only he could fuck you like this, you were sure.

“Tell me how good baby, tell me how I make you feel,” he urged, hands moving to the tiles behind your head as he thrust into you, grunts and groans falling from his lips with every move.

“So good E, so fuckin’ good baby, you’re so deep, fuck,” you let the words tumble out, not thinking twice about them. When he leaned in to kiss you it made you clench all over and he hissed against your lips at the feeling.

“So tight for me baby girl, fuck, my fuckin’ pussy.” The mixture of his groans and the filth coming out of his mouth was enough for you to get yourself right to the edge.

He felt it, felt you lift up on your tiptoes, felt your walls tighten and start to flutter. He reached between you, fingers finding your clit just in time. He rubbed quickly, causing you to stop breathing as every muscle in your body tensed and then you were shaking, so hard your teeth chattered. If his dick wasn’t still inside you you probably would have sunk to the ground. 

He pulled out of you as soon as you were done, leaving you feeling entirely empty. You watched with hazy eyes as he turned off the water. 

He came back over to you, strong arms wrapping you up and lifting you with ease, even with your skin slick from the water. You let him do whatever he wanted, just relaxing into his shoulder as he carried you out of the shower with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“We’re gonna make a mess on the floor,” you mumbled, watching the water fall off his body and drip onto the wood.

“Shhh, it’s fine,” he reassured you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he started to walk towards your room. You couldn’t help but feel that he was still hard, practically throbbing below your entrance as he carried you. 

“Where we goin’?” You asked quietly, sitting up. 

“Our room.”

“No repeats, remember?” you mumbled. “Put me down.” 

He did as you asked, but there was already concern written all over his face. He kept a hand on you as you wobbled slightly, knees still a bit weak.

“Baby, you don’t have to-”

You just took his hand.

night two, 7:30pm, living room one

“Sit down,” you instructed him, pulling him towards the couch. He plopped down on the gray fabric - you knew there would be a wet patch there when you all were done, but you didn’t care. 

Before you could say anything else, he reached out, hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the skin.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay if you’re not up for it. Really, I mean it. The whole christening thing is just for fun.” His voice was so soft - he was obviously worried that you were overdoing it. After all, you did have a history of being too sensitive for so many rounds in a row; Ethan always took it as a compliment. 

But now, you were somehow still horny, and you knew he was painfully hard, especially since it was his second go round. So, you decided to prove to him that you were perfectly fine, leaning over, hands going to his thighs as you got in his face.

“Are you trying to convince me not to sit on your dick right now?” You said it slowly, drawing out your words. “Do you not want me to ride you?”

You actually watched him swallow, and he shook his head like a school boy being scolded. 

“That’s what I thought,” you grinned, climbing onto his lap.

You wasted no time, bracing yourself on his shoulder so you could lift up and sink down onto him. There was barely a stretch this time, and you were glad, because you could immediately start up the pace you wanted. You went to your knees so he’d stay deep inside as you started to roll your hips like you knew he loved.

“Shit,” he choked out, hands moving to your ass, squeezing the flesh there as you leaned forward, adding a bit of a bounce to your movements - having your tits in his face was just a bonus.

“Not gonna last, fuck baby, just like that.” The words disappeared into your skin as he buried his face in your neck while you kept moving. Wanting to see his face, you tugged on his hair until his head came back up and you could kiss him.

His hands were desperate, wandering all over your skin as he tried to keep it together, lips rough against yours. It took so much focus for you to keep your pace as your own orgasm started to build, especially when you felt Ethan rising up to meet you, trying to get impossibly deeper.

“C’mon baby, cum for me.” You didn’t care that it had only been a few minutes - you knew he was so close, you could feel it.

He groaned at your words, and you gasped as his hands came to your hips, actually lifting you slightly just so he could pound into you harder. And just that slight shift of angle was enough to build you up in just a few strokes, and suddenly you were cumming with him, seeing stars as your body tried to process the third major orgasm of the day.

“Holy shit,” was all Ethan could say once he caught his breath. You were still speechless, body totally spent as you just sat there, exhausted. “Three in one day, that’s a lot for you,” he praised, pressing kisses to your temple. “My pretty girl is all fucked out huh?”

“Mmmm,” was your only response, and even you didn’t know what it was supposed to mean. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, moving so he could stand up. He shifted inside you, making you whimper until he was able to lift you off of him. He mumbled an apology, hands coming around to your ass to hold you up. You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he carried you back to your room. 

Ten minutes later and the bathtub was full with hot water, waiting for you as you rinsed off in the shower first, deciding your hair desperately needed washing. Ethan watched you through the glass door as he waited in the water for you, soft smile spreading across his face when you finished up and headed to join him, limbs heavy.

He sat up to help you step into the massive white tub, immediately wrapping his arms around you as you settled back against his chest.

“You remember how you said we needed to pace ourselves?” He murmured in your ear. “Well, we only have two rooms left. We’re beasts.”

“What’s gonna happen when we have our own house? We could do this every weekend,” You teased, twisting around so you could rest your cheek on his shoulder, pressing a few kisses to his neck and collarbone.

“Do you want our own place?” 

You thought on it for a moment, as much as your blissed out haze would let you. “Not for a while. I like living with Gray.”

“Wait. If we didn’t live with Gray, would you just walk around with no pants on all the time?” The seriousness of his tone made you giggle.

“Probably,” you shrugged.

“That’s it, we’re moving, I’m getting on Zillow right now-” he sat up slightly as if he was going to get out of the tub, making you laugh and cling onto him.

“Stop, you know you love living with your brother. You miss him already and it’s only been like a day.”

He sighed, chest rising below you. “You’ve kept me plenty distracted.” But you both knew that you were right.

morning three, 10am, office

Your second whole day at home alone was so... soft. There was no other way to put it. You’d woken up on your own time, thrown on some comfy clothes and went together to your favorite vegan bakery, getting lattes and the best banana bread.

E had driven you up to a lookout and you’d had breakfast together watching the waves crash on the coast. And when you got home, you spent the whole day just moseying around the house, dancing around to the music on the speakers, playing cards, cuddling on the couch and watching movies. 

“Can’t wait till this is us in our house with a few little mini you’s running around,” Ethan had said, pulling you closer to him on the couch.

“Mini me’s? Why not mini you’s?” 

“Oh god, I wouldn’t wish a mini me on anybody, just ask Li,” he’d teased back. And the night had devolved into the two of you talking about what you thought your lives would look like in the future - living either in Jersey or LA, but definitely with Grayson as a neighbor. Two or three kids running around, not too far apart in age. You could picture it all in your head so clearly, and it had even seeped into your dreams later that night when you fell asleep on Ethan’s chest.

So when you woke up on the third morning, you pouted a bit when you didn’t find Ethan beside you in bed. You climbed out from under the covers, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and going in search of him - you wanted to tell him about the little mini-him’s you’d dreamed about, and how cute they were. You checked each room as you went along, finally hearing his voice and peeking into the office. 

He was spinning slightly in the office chair, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, I think that’s fine. If we restock in July, then we should have enough time to get enough surplus built up before the holidays.” He caught sight of you then, face lighting up. He waved you in, wanting you to join him. 

You could hear the voice on the other side of the line as you got closer, and recognized it as Nathan, one of the main product managers for Wakeheart. He’d made sure not to plan any meetings for the days you had the house to yourself, giving himself a ‘mini-vacation’, but you knew he couldn’t stay away from work that long. You didn’t mind - his ambition was one of your favorite things about him.

So you simply headed over to settle onto his lap, nuzzling up into his neck as you straddled one of his thighs and cuddled up. 

He pulled the phone away from his ear for just a moment, turning his head to kiss you good morning.

“Do you think we should make a holiday line? Grayson and I were talking about it, or we could just run some specific packaging deals, with mini’s or something.” He kept talking, spinning about 45 degrees in the chair and then back again, using his foot to move him.

What he didn’t realize was that just that movement was making your core shift on his wide thigh, and your thin panties weren’t doing anything to help the situation.

You still had a bit of residual sensitivity, but it didn’t hurt - now it just made it that much easier to get turned on. You tried to ignore it for a minute - Ethan always took his work so seriously, and you really didn’t want to interrupt. 

But soon it was too obvious - you knew that if he didn’t already feel the wetness on his skin, he was going to soon. Almost against your own will your hips started to move just slightly, desperate for any type of friction across your throbbing core. 

And of course, Ethan noticed. You sat up, trying to get a new angle and his eyes were blown wide, mouth actually hanging open slightly because holy shit, you were actually riding his thigh while he was on a business call. 

With a devious grin, he bounced his leg once, and you squeaked so loud that you had no doubt that Nathan heard it. Your hands immediately went up to cover your mouth, cheeks bright red in embarrassment. 

“Just my floor, sorry. What’d you say?” He played it off, pressing a finger to your lips and still smirking at you as you started to grind again, one hand going to his shoulder, the other bracing against his right thigh to give you leverage. 

“Yeah, we could do two separate mini bundles, with one set for enterlight and the other with the signatures, maybe spruce it up with some festive packaging.” His voice was devilishly calm, and somehow that only turned you on more. The fact that he could be so unaffected by you literally getting off just using his leg had your skin flushed and hot, a mixture of embarrassment and want. 

“We’ll have to run it past Gray once he’s back. Right now it’s just me and my girl at the house, Sterling isn’t even here, so it’s just us.” His eyes were on you, but you didn’t realize how intensely he was watching you until he brought his other hand up to grab your jaw, tilting your head back until you had no option but to stare directly at him. 

You bit down on your lip hard, fighting with yourself to stay quiet as you worked yourself up, moving fast, the chair starting to creak just barely with your movements. A few whimpers still slipped past your lips and you could actually see his pupils blow wide at the sound. 

“Yeah, uh, actually Nathan I think Y/N needs me for... something. Can we finish this up later?” There was a slight gruff to his voice now, the first real sign that any of this was getting to him. “Alright, talk soon. Bye.”

His phone hit the desk hard as he practically dropped it, both hands moving to your hips as his mood turned on a dime.

“God you drive me insane baby. Don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but I love it,” he groaned, gripping onto your hips as you continued to move, so lost in the feeling that you barely even heard his words.

“Fuck Ethan, I’m close, I’m so fuckin close,” you breathed, digging your nails into his shoulder hard enough to make him suck in a breath through his teeth.

“There you go baby girl, c’mon, get yourself off on my leg, c’mon, you’re almost there,” he encouraged you, starting to barely bounce his leg to give you that extra little bit of friction you needed.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fu-” your breath caught in your throat, cutting off your words as your whole body tensed up, thighs closing together to squeeze around his as your toes came off the ground and every muscle in your legs started to shake. It rolled through you in waves, keeping you tensed up for almost 30 seconds before you were finally able to breathe. You gulped down the air you’d been missing, collapsing forward onto Ethan’s chest as his arms wove around you. 

“Woah. That was a good one huh?” His voice is soft as he rubs up and down your back as you caught your breath. “If you needed me, all you had to do was ask.”  

“Was just comin’ to tell you about my dream,” you stood up, moving to close your legs and sit on his lap sideways instead, too sensitive to stay like you had been. 

“Oh yeah? And what did my girl dream about, hmm?”

You launched into the story, talking about how the two of you had a daughter and son, both with dark curls like Ethan’s that bounced around while they played in the treehouse that Grayson had built for their kids to share. 

“It really sent the baby fever into overdrive,” you sighed, tracing over his collarbone tattoo as you finished.

“You know,” he leaned down, getting closer to your ear. “If you want a baby, you gotta at least give me a chance to get my dick in you.” 

“Stopppp,” you blushed, burying your face in his neck. He just laughed.

“Oh so now you���re gonna get bashful on me huh? Just came in here and rode my thigh into oblivion while I was on a business call, but me mentioning putting a baby in you, oh no, that crosses the line.” 

You sat up and pouted at his teasing, but he just kissed it right off your lips with a laugh. “You know I love it, don’t be embarrassed.” 

afternoon four, 3:32pm, dining room

“Babe, c’mon, if we’re late Gray’s gonna be pissed,” you called out, grabbing Grayson’s water bottle from the counter and filling it up - you were always thirsty after a long flight, and you figured he’d appreciate the gesture.

Ethan came around the corner then, taking one look at you and immediately turning around with a groan, heading back to your room.

“E!”

“You’re wearing that? You don’t even have a shred of mercy for me, do you?” He was exasperated as soon as he came back into the kitchen.

You looked down at yourself - you just had on a sundress, it was no big deal.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’m already trying to get over the fact that you’re gonna start wearing pants again all the time and you’re out here looking all... all tempty,” he pouted, and you couldn’t hold back your laugh.

“Tempty? That’s a new one. And hey, technically I still don’t have on pants,” you offered, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Is that supposed to be helpful right now?” He asked, making you realize that pointing out the fact that your were in a dress probably wasn’t helping the already growing bulge in his pants.

With devious eyes, he glanced over at the clock. You had a few minutes to spare before you absolutely had to leave to avoid being late, and he knew it too.

“Ethan... no. No,” you cautioned as he started to walk towards you, but you were laughing at the fact he looked like a cat on the prowl.

“C’mon, we never finished our christening! All we have left is the dining room! You know I hate giving up.” He was pouting again, even sticking his bottom lip out as he kept walking and you backed up until you bumped into the wooden table. 

“We’re gonna be late,” was your last possible defense, and even that was half assed. You were already wet god dammit, all he had to do was look at you.

“Please baby? We’ll be quick, I promise.” 

You answer by turning around, bending over and reaching back to flick your dress up over your ass. His knees almost give out at the sight.

“Absolute.” He leaned down and presses a kiss to your left asscheek. “Dream.” He kissed the other, making you laugh.

“Thought we were gonna be quick,” you teased, secretly loving all the attention. As excited as you were to see Grayson, you sure as hell were gonna miss this.

“So greedy,” he chuckled, moving up to catch your thong with his fingers and pull it down to your knees. You heard the rustle of him getting his shorts down, and a gentle tap at your slit with his tip was your only warning before he pushed himself in.

“Fuckin’ shit baby,” you croaked, hands balling into fists at the sensation. You weren’t sure how it felt so good to be stretched out so nicely - surely you’d get used to it eventually, but you secretly hoped you never did. 

“Hmm, feels nice huh? You feel so good every damn time,” he praised, hands squeezing at your ass as he pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in. “Always so soft for me.” He was lazily rolling his hips, giving you just enough to get you worked up but not enough to get you there.

“Fast Ethan. We’re going for fast,” you reminded him, a bit of sass creeping into your tone. You didn’t want to deal with a cranky post-travel Grayson if you were late.

He stilled his movement entirely, leaning forward to nip at your ear. 

“You asked for it.” 

And then he was moving, pulling your hips so he could slam into you fully, only letting go to reach around and rub at your clit, making your whole body tense up at the sudden change in pace.

“Fuck yes Ethan, fuck just like that, yes, yes yes yes,” you whimpered, a hand even coming to smack at the wood on the table as you tried to process all the sensation happening so quickly. 

“Already tightening up, look at you.” His breathing was already labored as he continued pounding into you, grunting with the force of it. Neither of you were going to last long, it felt too good. “C’mon baby, wanna feel it. Cum for me, I know you’re close.”

You brought one hand down over his, guiding him to just the right spot over your clit, the callouses on his finger giving you just the right friction that had you tumbling over the edge. 

You collapsed onto the table with the force of the orgasm, smiling when you felt Ethan chasing his own high and spilling into you only a few moment later, only your name falling from his lips. 

It took a few minutes for you to calm down, and then you were waddling off to the bathroom to clean yourself up quickly before pulling your panties back up. Ethan watched you with a smug smirk as you tried to walk normally, his ego bursting.

“Shut it,” you threatened, pointing a finger at him. “This is your fault.”

“I said nothing.” But his smirk was enough. “Better get that figured out before we get Grayson, or he’ll never let us live it down,” he grinned, offering you his arm as you rearranged your dress and let him lead you out to the car. 

40 minutes later and you were climbing out of the car, legs not giving too much away as you watched Ethan run around the car and engulf his twin in the biggest hug, both of them more than ecstatic to see each other.

“Missed you bro,” Grayson smiled, looking over at you. “Missed you too munch,” he said, throwing out the nickname that only he was allowed to call you. Once Ethan let him go he moved over to you, giving you the biggest bear hug and spinning you around. Ethan reacted before you did, reaching a hand out to keep your dress down in the wind.

“Woah, easy, that’s only for my eyes,” Ethan huffed, pulling you to his side once you were back on your feet.

“Righttt, I forgot. But hey, I’m home now, so you’re gonna have to start wearing pants around the house again. Sorry to ruin the no-pants party,” Grayson smirked, watching the blush spread across your cheeks as you whirled on Ethan.

“You told him?” You squeaked, embarrassment running through you from head to toe.

“Thanks bro, real fuckin’ nice,” Ethan said over your head before looking at you. “That’s the only thing I told him, I swear.” 

“You’re so dead,” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he knew he was in for it later.

“Ahh, so nice to be home,” Grayson grinned, wrapping you both up in a hug as he laughed.

-----

SORRY this took so long guys. also if u love me u should message me which room was your favorite just for fun haha thank you for reading, ily guys!

[klarolinelibrary]

Hi KC Readers, 

Happy Friday! 

We have another weekly releases for you to check out. The stories below were updated during the week of April 17 - April 23. 

Grab a snack and drink, then dive right into the new stories and reimagined characters of Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes!

FFN

Klaus POV - The Trouble with Spells (Chapter 21)

Author: ilovetf

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: I think the title is self explanatory. The Trouble with Spells as seen through Klaus's eyes and his POV. Over the years, people kept liking this story and some even asked for Klaus POV, so I decided to give it a try. Hope you enjoy it. All feedback is more than welcome. Good or bad.

Date of update: April 17 2021

SKULLS (Chapter 9)

Author: Lovely Vero

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Vampiro and El Diablo, aka: Klaus and Elijah Mikaelson, heads of the bikers SKULLS are fighting Gabriel Desperaldo, aka: El escorpión - head of the Spanish mafia - and his human trafficking in their city of Los Alamos in New Mexico. Never in a million years, did they imagine that the love of two captured women would change their life forever.

Date of update: April 17 2021

In the shelter of your light (Chapter 3)

Author: Clarity23

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Caroline expected to face some challenges when she decided to foster a teenage girl. But she did not expect that the girl's older, annoyingly handsome brother would be in the picture as well. AU

Date of update: April 17 2021

Everything and anything for you (Chapter 13)

Author: thelibrarianofalexandria

Rating: T

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: She had it all planned ahead. Graduate early, go to an Ivy League college, make her dreams come true. However, she has to change it a little when her whole life is thrown upside down and a handsome original takes an interest in her, the younger, shy, sister of Caroline Forbes.

Date of update: April 20 2021

You can't run from your past (Chapter 2)

Author: CookieDuo

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Caroline Forbes is an FBI agent with secrets. Three years ago she fell in love with a target before she helped put him behind bars, and she faked her own death. Now he's escaped from prison and he's learned the truth, about who she is and the secret she's been keeping since he got sent away. Now she has to run, but he's determined to catch her. And he always gets what he wants.

Date of update: April 20 2021

Take on the world

Author: Logan27

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Starts near the end of 4x14 (I would rewatch that episode up until Klaus comes out onto the porch just for a refresher). Caroline makes a life altering decision and takes a big chance in order to move forward, heal and discover.

Date of update: April 21 2021

A Failed Sacrifice (Chapter 4)

Author: CookieDuo

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: She ruined the sacrifice to save her own life, and in order to survive she turned to the only other vampire who'd been able to survive the wrath of Klaus Mikaelson. She gets away, and learns from the master, but when Klaus eventually catches up to her, her life will never be the same again.

Date of update: April 23 2021

AO3

Step Up Or Step Out

Author: ThrowMeAStory

Rating: E

Length: One shot

Summary: 4x16 au, Part 7. For Caroline it's been a long time coming.

Date of update: April 17 2021

no goodbyes (Chapter 9)

Author: deadofwrite (dead_of_write)

Rating: E

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: “Last night shouldn’t have happened,” Caroline whispered. Guilt. Shame. Regret.It was all the emotions he feared. And it was written all over her face. aka. a college/cheating au

Date of update: April 17 2021

Turned Off or Turned On?

Author: Anonymous

Rating: E

Length: Drabble

Summary: Caroline-that-has-flipped-the-switch seeks out one Klaus Mikaelson. Deep down Caroline knew that seeking him out was wrong on so many levels, he had been responsible for so much death and destruction, but that didn’t stop her. Truthfully, it made her want to go to him more, now that her emotions had been turned off. There was nothing from keeping her from having him. Had she had them switched on it was doubtful she even would have gone out of the door, she would have just wistfully thought about going instead. Thinking about what might have been.

Date of update: April 17 2021

One of a Kind, Two of a Kind, or the Three Musketeers (Chapter 10)

Author: Phandancee74

Rating: T

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Caroline recognizes how hard it is for Elena to be a doppelgänger, her fate predestined as well as her face. It's pretty tough being the last of your kind too though, and Caroline is determined to protect them both, with some very helpful Bennetts on their side. A fic that integrates Malivore and the larger supernatural universe into TVD from the start.

Date of update: April 17 2021

A Blonde, A Brit, and A Baby (Chapter 3)

Author: Books4eva180

Rating: T

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Caroline Forbes life is right on schedule for her Twenty-Year plan that she created at 16 years old: at 23 years old she is a junior editor at a magazine company in NYC and she has fantastic friends; one of whom is about to get to married. Life couldn't be more perfect or at least that was until she slept with a British asshole. What was only supposed to be a one night stand has turned into a life changing night because Caroline is now pregnant. Klaus Mikaelson has always enjoyed the simple things in life. Bourbon, art, and an endless stream of girls who are more than willing to fall into his bed. This all changes when he is forced to move to America to join his father's law company and he isn't even really his father. Then to make matters worse he ends up sleeping with a girl and even worse she ends up pregnant. Forced together in a situation that neither of them could have planned for will feelings blossom (yes they definitely will) Will Caroline be able to handle this life changing event? Will Klaus be able to escape the demons from his past? Will the both of them be able to provide a happy and healthy home for their baby?

Date of update: April 18 2021

Darkness Becomes Thee

Author: BelleMorte180

Rating: E

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Austria 1300s When Klaus met a young girl on a riverbank, he knew that he would one day come back for her. When he looked into her bright blue eyes, he could see a reflection of his own soul, a darkness that lingered inside both of them. When the young girl turned into a beautiful woman with a thirst for blood, his fascination with her turns into obsession. He wants not only her loyalty but her eternity, a possessiveness that is equally returned. or my "Caroline is the serial killer Elizabeth Bathory" au.

Date of update: April 18 2021

Reunited (Chapter 13)

Author: CandyCane1287

Rating: T

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Set after 5x12 TVD, where Caroline confesses what she did with Klaus to Katherine and Tyler hears. Katherine reveals that she’s dying and knows of a witch that could help her. But the witch is in New Orleans and that’s where Elijah and Klaus. Baby included but nice Hayley doesn't stick around. Also, Elena is supportive here.

Date of update: April 18 2021

A smutty anniversary (Chapter 6)

Author: kcatdino

Rating: E

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Caroline and Klaus celebrate 3 months together with a day full of smut.

Date of update: April 18 2021

american dream prom queen

Author: trashcanbarbie

Rating: T

Length: Drabble

Summary: “What would they say, if they knew you were here, on my birthday doing something almost…” she trails off, because she doesn't know the word. “Nice?” he suggests, then grins like a wolf, “They’d roll in their graves, my siblings.” “They're not dead.” He grins, and Caroline feels as if he’s laughing at a private joke when he says, “Aren't they?”

Date of update: April 19 2021

We are young (Chapter 12)

Author: kcatdino

Rating: T

Length: One shot

Summary: Basically, Klaroline flirt in front of their kids who they are barely older than, and Landon is appropriately confused.

Date of update: April 19 2021

Nowhere Else To Go (Chapter 2)

Author: NerdyNostalgia

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Summary: Klaus has an unexpected visitor while in New Orleans and is determined to show her a good time. He isn't going to let this chance pass him by, and if it means he and Caroline get closer...well, that was a bonus. But is Marcel planning something?

Date of update: April 19 2021

Part of Your World

Author: perfectpro

Rating: G

Length: One shot

Summary: After trading the loveliest thing she possessed to a sea witch in order to walk on land, Caroline realizes that she'd accidentally bargained her voice away. Human legs shouldn't always feel this sort of pain, should they? With only a week to go before the spell wears off, the bargain can be undone entirely with true love's first kiss. The only problem is... Who falls in love in less than a week?

Date of update: April 19 2021

I Don’t Want You To Die

Author: klarolinexluv

Rating: E

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary:

Date of update: April 19 2021

Sibling Rivalry (Chapter 9)

Author: kcatdino

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: In which Klaus and Rebekah are both bi, their taste in men and women overlaps infuriatingly often, and they argue over their newest shared interest. Edit: This is going to be a full series now, I love it so much. Edit 2: Oops, I dropped a whole bucket of angst on Caroline's backstory. If only there were some Mikaelsons willing to help her work through it...

Date of update: April 20 2021

What Could Have Been (Chapter 37)

Author: TNaPKI

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: My impression of what Season 6 of The Originals would have been like post 5x13 where Klaroline becomes endgame. Is Klaus really gone or is there more to the story? Find out! FINAL CHAPTER out in a month!

Date of update: April 20 2021

The Salvatore Sisters (Chapter 19)

Author: 1Jemmagirl22

Rating: T

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Caroline and Davina Salvatore are Stefan and Damon's younger sister's, and they are far more than meets the eye. When Stefan and Damon's younger sisters show up during the beginning of season 2, what could possibly go wrong. The Salvatore girls have a dark past littered with their brother's enemies, the same enemies that just so happen to be their family. With Mikaelson's as husbands, miracle powers that could crush a Bennet witch, and whole life their brothers never knew about just how much have can these sisters and their family cause.

Date of update: April 21 2021

YOU ARE NOT HERE

Author: wincefish16

Rating: T

Length: Drabble

Summary: PROMT - HUMAN. KLAROLINE LOVED EAC OTHER, HAPPY IN A RELATIONSHIP WHERE CAROLINE IS THE ARTIST AND KLAUS IS A LAWYER. THEY HAVE AN ACCIDENT AND CAROLINE SLIPS IN A COMA. SHE IS LIKE THAT FOR 1 YEAR. KLAUS , AS A TRIBUTE TO HER STARTS PAINTING. DOES HE FALL INTO NEW RELATIONSHIPS?

Date of update: April 21 2021

Compromise Coffee (Chapter 3)

Author: BelleMorte180

Rating: E

Length: One shot

Summary: Caroline Forbes has a coffee problem; or better described as a crush on the cute barista, Klaus, who knows how to make her large, non-fat latte with a caramel drizzle and two extra espresso shots just right. After years of coming to Compromise Coffee, Caroline thought he would have made a move by now, but he hasn't. Caroline has decided that it is time for her to make the move herself.

Date of update: April 22 2021

Soulmate visions (Chapter 4)

Author: kcatdino

Rating: T

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: On your soulmate's eighteenth birthday, you see through their eyes for an hour, but they don’t know. And if your soulmate turns eighteen before you are even born, you never get a vision. Klaus gets his soulmate vision right after he orders Tyler to bite Caroline on her birthday….

Date of update: April 22 2021

Give Me A Sign (Chapter 6)

Author: PumpkinDoodles

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Caroline Forbes is happy that she left founders' parties, competition over guys she'd known since elementary school, and even Mystic Falls itself behind years ago. She's not second-best to Elena anymore. Even Liz would be proud of her new life working on the side of the law. Mostly. (If you need to compel someone into giving up stolen goods, is it really a crime?) Of course he's the one person from her past who comes looking for her. Klaus does that.

Date of update: April 22 2021

Secrets Inside Us

Author: 1Jemmagirl22

Rating: T

Length: Drabble

Summary: Klaroline as actors falling in love on set.

Date of update: April 23 2021

Destination Wedding (Chapter 2)

Author: PumpkinDoodles

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: The first rule of going to your ex's wedding is 'make sure you look good,' but Caroline's seriously worried that this British Guy is going to make her late. And she cannot be late to Rebekah Mikaelson and Matt Donovan's wedding at a Virginia winery.

Date of update: April 23 2021

There Is Nothing I Would Not Do

Author: ThrowMeAStory

Rating: M

Length: Drabble

Summary: 4x16 au, Part 8. Caroline and Bonnie reconnect.

Date of update: April 23 2021

Cloud 9: A Collection of Klaroline Fusions and Crossovers (Chapter 10)

Author: klarolineagainnaturally

Rating: G

Length: One shot

Summary: Various fusions and crossovers with Klaus and Caroline including Much Ado About Nothing, Ready or Not, and Tangled!

Date of update: April 23 2021

FFN/AO3

FFN: The Traitor and the Coward (Chapter 5)

AO3: The Traitor and the Coward (Chapter 5)

Author: Uppity Bitch

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Klaroline AU supernatural multi-chap - Original!Caroline has spent lifetimes running from her lover and his family. Despite the centuries of loneliness, she regrets nothing. Soon, she'll bring an end to this madness. Or bring the madness full circle.

Date of update: April 17 2021

FFN: Heartless to Heartfelt, Redone (Chapter 10)

AO3: Heartless to Heartfelt (Chapter 13)

Author: SmallTimeWriter

Rating: T

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: Daggered and buried deep within the ocean, Klaus has spent the last 9 years in a torturous state. Haunted by memories of the past and images of a child he never got to meet. Now awakened, but not the same. He is faced with a decision, can he forgive those who wronged him when a threat larger then they could anticipate appears? They must reunited to survive. All Main Characters.

Date of update: April 18 2021

FFN: Divine Intervention (Chapter 13)

AO3: Divine Intervention (Chapter 13)

Author: Uppity Bitch

Rating: M

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: This takes place in an alternate universe after Klaus seeks assistance from a certain blonde Norse goddess after Katerina has become a vampire and foiled his attempt at breaking his curse. Later chapters will follow this spicy "power" couple as they stir up all kinds of trouble in Mystic Falls. (Dark Klaroline) *Nominated for 2016 Klaroline Award - Best Original Story Concept

Date of update: April 19 2021

FFN: A Beautiful Symmetry (Chapter 154)

AO3:  A Beautiful Symmetry (Chapter 154)

Author: Uppity Bitch

Rating: M

Length: One Shot

Summary: A collection of random AU one-shots featuring Klaroline. *2019 KC Award - Best one-shot series* Chapter 154: Dimples and Domestics. The Mikaelsons are spoiled, selfish snobs — and unfortunately are art student Caroline and her parents' main source of income. At least she only has to put up with them over her summer break...

Date of update: April 21 2021

FFN: Through his eyes (Chapter 6)

AO3: Through his eyes (Chapter 6)

Author: TheAlllureOfDarkness

Rating: T

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: The story of Klaus and Caroline, from Klaus POV.

Date of update: April 21 2021

FFN: Judgment Call (Chapter 5)

AO3: Judgment Call (Chapter 5)

Author: Eliliyah

Rating: T/G

Length: Multi Chapter

Summary: As a Federal Agent, Caroline Forbes has always lived by a strict moral code. But when new evidence comes to light that Klaus Mikaelson, the first man she helped send to death row, may not be guilty hours before his execution, she begins to question everything she's ever known. As the investigation leads to the heartbreaking truth, she's forced to choose between right and just.

Date of update: April 23 2021