#Mr. Steal Your Brain

[keeksandgigz]

somewhere we can be alone

stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader

a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3

summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.

word count: 7.7k words

warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot

This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.

“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”

He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.

“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.

The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.

He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.

“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”

And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.

“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.

“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.

The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.

Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.

He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.

Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.

“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.

A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”

Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.

He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.

He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.

“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?

Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.

The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.

“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.

Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.

“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.

“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”

With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.

Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”

His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.

Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.

Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.

He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.

And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.

Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.

So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.

Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX

Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.

So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.

“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.

“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.

He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.

Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.

Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.

“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.

“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.

“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.

Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.

“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.

“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.

Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.

“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.

So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.

Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.

But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.

So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.

By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.

You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.

“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.

Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.

You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.

“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.

“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.

“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.

“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.

“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.

“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.

“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.

“N-No,” you whimper.

“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.

“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.

“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”

You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.

You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”

You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”

Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”

His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.

Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.

He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.

From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.

“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.

“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.

“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.

“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”

“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.

“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.

His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.

“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.

“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.

So close, so close–

He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.

“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.

The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.

You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.

His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.

You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.

And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.

If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.

Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.

You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.

“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.

“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.

“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”

You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?

“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.

A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.

“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.

“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.

“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.

He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.

“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”

And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.

That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”

Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.

His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.

He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.

“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.

“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”

He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.

“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”

You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.

“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.

And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.

You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.

“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.

So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?

He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.

Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.

You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.

Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.

He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.

“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.

“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.

Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.

“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.

“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.

“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.

“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.

“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.

“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.

“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.

Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.

“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”

You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.

It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.

But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.

“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.

“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.

You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.

“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.

You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.

As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.

Just you and him. In his van.

You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.

Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.

Opening night. It’s finally here.

You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?

Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.

Break a leg Juliet xx.

You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.

You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.

You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.

“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.

“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.

“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.

“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.

“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.

“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.

You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”

“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.

“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.

“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.

“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.

You seem unconvinced, still.

“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.

Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.

“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.

“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.

His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.

A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.

He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.

He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.

A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.

A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.

“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.

You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.

“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.

“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.

You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.

“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.

A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.

Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.

“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.

Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.

You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.

You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.

The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.

You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.

“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.

“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.

“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

“So, how about that date?”

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski

[astonmartinii]

hi!! i really love your blog: i usually stay silent and only like the posts but i thought today should be the day i request something!

would you be open to write a social media au with lando Norris x y/n where the reader is a marine biologist? or a surfer? or something ocean-related lmao

feel free to disregard this request if you don’t like it or don’t have time!! xx

just add water | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem reader

first fish ruined his appetite, now they steal his girlfriend?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 103,451 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: perks of the job but back on shore i clock in to my full time job of missing lando

view all comments

user1: can we have the hair routine cause miss ma'am is in the sea every damn day and her hair is still healthier than mine

user2: REAL

landonorris: f1 is just my day job, talking about you is my passion and career

yourusername: babe even the whales in monterey bay know about you

landonorris: they better be mclaren fans

yourusername: eh i think i heard super max (whale edition) the other day

maxverstappen1: conquered all of f1 and the seven seas so real of me

landonorris: THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING THE RISING OCEAN TEMPERATURES ARE FRYING THEIR BRAINS

yourusername: babe don't joke about that :(

landonorris: sorry :(

oscarpiastri: can you please come to the next race i may put my head through a wall if i have to watch this man go through his camera roll again RETELLING me all of the stories

yourusername: didn't realise we were so annoying 🧐

oscarpiastri: don't get me wrong you guys are cute but sometimes i wanna nap after practice in peace and not hear about whale shit

landonorris: i SEE HOW IT IS

alexalbon: no oscar is right i've heard about when had a baby seal on her surfboard about seven billion times

yourusername: HEY that was cute

user3: okay but lando could talk to ME about y/n's adventures

user4: i want to hear ALL of it for real

user5: lando and y/n podcast when?

alexalbon: do not give them ideas they’re already number one and two yappers in the international waffling championship

yourusername: yapper and proud 😤

landonorris: healthy relationship communications and boundaries? no. yappers? yes!

alexalbon: has anyone ever told you guys you’re annoying?

yourusername: yes 😃

user6: they’re so annoying i love them

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,451 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: does this girl own a pair of trousers? real question.

view all comments

user8: i actually don't think i've ever seen a man this down bad

user9: ALL men should aspire to be this whipped

yourusername: i wish you would join the no trouser revolution, give the girlies something to look at

user10: i agree

yourusername: okay back up babe that ass is all mine

landonorris: it's okay babe you can admire your (my) ass all the time if you come home PLS

yourusername: sorry babe the ocean doesn't sleep and the whales need me

landonorris: but i need you too :(

maxverstappen1: WAH WAH I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING WHINING

alexalbon: THANK YOU FINALLY

landonorris: erm why am i being victimised in my own comment section

maxverstappen1: you are doing my fucking nut in mate yeha i get you miss her but kinda your fault for having a cool gf with a cool job

yourusername: omg thanks 😊

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: babe no offence but he's a three time world champ i'm gonna take the compliment

landonorris: i guess so :(

user10: just one normal comment section, please that is all i ask for

oscarpiastri: maybe i should get on this whole j.peg business cause my photography is doing some heavy lifting here

yourusername: i didn't take you for a stunt queen miss rookie

landonorris: where is the peace, love and positivity ?? you guys are such haters

oscarpiastri: proudly

yourusername: no cool shells for you mr piastri

oscarpiastri: I TAKE IT BACK

landonorris: you people are such flip flops

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 112,872 others

yourusername: i promise we do actually do work

view all comments

user14: why am i now considering a marine biology degree for a sick ass instagram feed

user15: and protecting the sanctity of ocean life?

user14: yeah sure throw that in there too?

landonorris: i hope you slapped the FUCK out of that stingray for steve irwin

yourusername: babe we all know violence is not the answer

landonorris: you said you'd break the knee caps of any driver that took me out?

yourusername: i do not recall this

landonorris: steve irwin is a national treasure, you should've done it for oscar

oscarpiastri: i'm sure it wasn't that exact stingray mate

landonorris: you don't know that

danielricciardo: i see you've forgotten about the other aussie you were teammates with ???

yourusername: i wouldn't have that if i were you daniel

landonorris: y/n??? you're meant to be on my side

yourusername: say sorry to larry and maybe i'll gang up on daniel with you

danielricciardo: Y/N???

landonorris: i'm sorry larry ... and daniel i guess ?

danielricciardo: if my hand weren't broken right now...

user16: okay i think lando is having y/n withdrawals

yourusername: his bitchiness is a symptom of separation anxiety

landonorris: sorry not sorry

user17: mclaren pr praying for y/n to come to a race soon

maxverstappen1: p says pretty please can she bagsy the pink shells?

yourusername: most definitely she can !! i'll even be on the look out for more

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n you're my favourite - p

yourusername: that's it i'm coming home rn

landonorris: am i a joke to you?

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,322,099 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good oh and a double podium, pretty sweet

view all comments

user21: obsessed with how lando said that y/n is clearly his lucky charm and the "dumbass" ocean won't be getting his girlfriend back

user22: there's levels to hating and lando's level of hating on the ocean??

user23: his hatred of fish makes so much more sense right now

user24: either he hates anything to do with the ocean or y/n convinced him they deserve to live 😭

landonorris: i'll say it's number one but realistically it's two greatly helped by the fact that it tastes gross anyway

yourusername: I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

landonorris: i know hhehehehehehehe

yourusername: i love you stupid

landonorris: i love you too dummy

yourusername: as much as i enjoyed this race i am ready for home time (after karaoke, you promised me karaoke with yuki)

landonorris: AHAHAHAAH TAKE THAT OCEAN Y/N COMING HOME

alexalbon: bro has beef with the ocean 😭

georgerussell63: bro had to share his gf with WATER 😭

maxverstappen1: bro is being ... torn apart here KEEP GOING LOL

oscarpiastri: no keep going cause i just want a nap before debrief and some people are being WAY TOO LOUD

carlossainz55: i think that's probably why you guys are getting away with bullying the little goblin

user25: oscar out here just confirming that lando and y/n are ... for lack of a better word up to no good?

user26: y/n didn't lie when she called him a stunt queen

landonorris: i can't hear y'all LALALALALALA

yourusername: they hate us because they ain't us

landonorris: period 💅

user27: i hate (love) them your honour

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 419,034 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: so he had the whole proposal planned out but got a bit too excited at suzuka ... if anyone asks we got engaged on a boat in the mediterranean not in his driver's room. aside from that, HOLY FUCK I AM ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU LANDO I CAN'T WAIT FOR FOREVER

view all comments

user30: HOLY 😭 FUCKING 😭 SHIT 😭

landonorris: can we agree on no more like three month placements pretty please?

yourusername: baby the whales need me

landonorris: i need you more FIANCE :(

yourusername: gosh you are convincing, no more retreats for more than a month

landonorris: yay !!

yourusername: you need to put up more shelves for our shells though

landonorris: on it, i love you (i'm calling my dad to do it)

yourusername: i love you too baby

danielricciardo: enchante tease on the engagement post and for free ??? love you two

yourusername: at least you have the prettiest model ever for it

landonorris: I'M BLUSHING

danielricciardo: i'll deal with this because i'm happy for you two

mclarenf1: double podium and an engagement, suzuka really delivered this year

oscarpiastri: i guess i take back my comments about being loud in the drivers room... i'm so happy for you guys you deserve it

landonorris: ahaha i knew you were a softy really pastry boy

yourusername: i always knew you loved us really oscar, you're just sassy and we respect that

landonorris: .... sure

maxverstappen1: did he propose at sea in one final power move over his arch nemesis the ocean?

yourusername: have you considered he did it at sea because i'm a marine biologist and i love it out there and he loves me?

maxverstappen1: well now i look like an asshole

landonorris: the sea 0 - 1 lando

yourusername: lando 😭

user31: well this has all been a rollercoaster

fin.

note: i've been kinda mia on here and i'm super sorry this request has taken so long lol. wanted to get this out now though cause lando had a horrid day today but i'm glad he's okay !! enjoy, i'm in my second week of a job so might get less busy xx

[diordeer]

౨ৎ TV IN BLACK AND WHITE

“nothing to be feared when you're in my heart, troubles come in threes but in your case they came in millions and trillions, but that's all right” - lana del rey (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x fem!reader, who plays priscilla and gets a bit of hate but its a tom blyth, rachel zegler kinda sitch

description: ok so i originally put this off bc i wasnt sure how to do it but then i did some brain storming and i looovee it i hope u do too 🤭

requested by: @tomblythsslut

Liked by sofiacoppola, iamcharliebushnell and others

yn.ln had so much fun on priscilla, miss u all 💔

View all comments.

user1 On my way! to make this movie my whole personality!

user2 Oh great! Another man hating movie!

↳ yn.ln thats not the point of the film? 😄

↳ user6 HELLO?

sofiacoppola 🩷🩷

user3 the behind the scene photos are giving me LIFE

user4 yn and jacob’s height difference might just put me in a coma

user5 yn casually dating and being best friends with the two white boys of the month

user6 i want all of her outfits NOW

↳ yn.ln this is exactly how i felt when i put the outfits on… wish i coulve taken them home!

user7 what a biased movie

↳ user8 the movie shows the ups and downs of the relationship from priscilla’s perspective, yes, but it would be more relatable to whoever’s side ur watching it from. Not biased, just true 😃

↳ user7 oh my god stfu

user9 MAN THIS COMMENT SECTION IS CRAZY

↳ user10 half is obsessing and the other half is hating 🤨

Liked by yn.ln, walker.scobell and others

iamcharliebushnell you are so so incredible!! love you 🩷

tagged yn.ln

yn.ln awhh love u more

user3 ur gf acted in one film that went well and thinks she’s the shit, for the love of god please humble her

↳ iamcharliebushnell why don’t u do me a favour and get a fucking life

↳ user2 WOAHHH

↳ user4 she IS the shit

dior.n.goodjohn shes so cute

↳ yn.ln we can leave, ill run away with u, just us!!

↳ iamcharliebushnell ⁉️

↳ yn.ln jokes!

↳ dior.n.goodjohn watch out mr, im stealing your girl 😉

user1 THE PUPPPYYY

user5 i hate the hate towards yn, but im kind of loving the drama i cant lie…

user6 charlie and yn are SO cute

↳ user7 THE WAY HE DEFENDS HER 😍

↳ user8 kinda feel like thats bare minimum tho like if ur gf was getting attacked would u not defend her?

↳ user7 stilll!!!! I think its rly cute

Liked by jacobelordi, iamcharliebushnell and others

yn.ln us looking for where u saw me say i thought i was the shit for acting in “one successful film”

tagged iamcharliebushnell

View all comments.

user1 YES TELL EM

user2 where did that even come from like? i swear that was out of nowhere

↳ user3 yeah! and they are REAL quiet now

iamcharliebushnell spoiler alert! We couldnt find it! Strange right?

↳ yn.ln super strange!

↳ user4 they are so iconic

user9 “im not angry, im just disappointed” is SCREAMING from the first pic

user5 men 🤷‍♀️

↳ yn.ln i want to agree with this but i also dont want to get cancelled again ! #notallmen 😊

user6 ALSO what is “one successful film” even mean?! this girl has an INSANELY successful career

↳ user7 they were too busy watching their film bro films

user8 love me a supportive AND hot boyfriend

↳ yn.ln really the whole package

user10 ive had crimson and clover stuck in my head ALL WEEK since seeing the film

↳ user11 the soundtrack is SOOO GOOD

taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover @vamplyle

[messrmoonyy]

- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold. 

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place. 

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid. 

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party. 

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more. 

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery. 

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “ 

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back. 

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl. 

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress. 

Always the gentleman. 

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too. 

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued. 

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “ 

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “ 

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you. 

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly. 

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did 

“ distinguished my ass “ 

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways. 

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow. 

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like. 

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates 

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over. 

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire. 

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course. 

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “ 

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear. 

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment. 

“ that’s my girl “ 

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had. 

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money. 

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham. 

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on. 

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over. 

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you. 

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats. 

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again. 

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t. 

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices. 

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night. 

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it. 

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates. 

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod 

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you. 

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs. 

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party. 

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be. 

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy. 

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people. 

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them. 

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help. 

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days. 

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering. 

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one. 

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest. 

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished. 

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds. 

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house. 

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other. 

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition. 

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about. 

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you. 

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice. 

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels. 

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming. 

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed. 

“ good girl “ 

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had. 

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them. 

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little. 

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “ 

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head. 

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused. 

“ yeah? About what? “ 

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “ 

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head 

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again. 

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair 

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “ 

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you. 

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were. 

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you. 

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth. 

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face. 

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you. 

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face 

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband. 

He’d ask you one day. 

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return. 

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.  

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again. 

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain. 

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.  

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt. 

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch 

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan. 

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “ 

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music. 

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house. 

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along. 

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters. 

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that. 

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist. 

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “ 

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “ 

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head. 

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “ 

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons. 

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “ 

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck 

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “ 

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening. 

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “ 

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins. 

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel. 

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp. 

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room. 

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him. 

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him. 

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist. 

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away. 

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head. 

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location. 

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well. 

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking. 

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy. 

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on. 

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him. 

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs. 

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine. 

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm. 

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“ 

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure. 

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him. 

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit. 

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper. 

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already. 

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings. 

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle. 

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too. 

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted. 

And wouldn’t that be a tale. 

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants. 

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt. 

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins. 

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin. 

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too. 

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too. 

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch. 

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could. 

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches. 

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard. 

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you. 

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice. 

“ y’think so? “ 

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too. 

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him. 

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath. 

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him. 

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired. 

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait. 

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did. 

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing. 

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “ 

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall. 

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush. 

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “ 

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you” 

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless. 

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect. 

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer. 

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter. 

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock. 

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up. 

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days. 

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose. 

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed. 

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself. 

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure. 

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it. 

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek 

“ mhm sure “ 

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too 

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

[boiohboii]

Noble prize winner wife (Toto Wolff x reader)

It's no secret that Toto Wolff is married, but no one ever saw his wife, for a while people doubted he actually had a wife as very few were invited to the wedding and she doesn't attend any races, but when they finally decide to go to an event together they break the Internet

or

in which they're the IT couple; with money, beauty and brains.

N.B: WARNING: not proof read, so there might be some spelling mistakes, like 2 or 4 swear words, f word. If I missed anything please let me know.

Face claim: Song Hye-kyo

Liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 967,187 others.

mercedesamgf1: Boss, you are too cruel for keeping your genius of a wife away from the paddock. Please welcome Dr. YN LN, 2 time Nobel Prize winner, to our page and hopefully the paddock soon (boss please let us invite her).

username: Holy fuck, she's serving 2 different looks

username: Mrs. LN , I am nothing but a speck of dust on your heels

username: SHE IS SO UUGGGHHH

username: she looks so dreamy

username: CAN TOTO WOLFF FIGHT

username: oh girlie, you gonna have your ass handed to you

username: you better hide

username: oh man, you prepared for a KO? cause Toto ain't letting no body touch her

username: at first I was all like, why won't he show his wife, but after seeing her and reading about her in the Nobel Prize Winners book, it's understandable

username: not me calculating my chances of winning against Toto Wolff

username: you know damn well you losing

username: I'd start begging before the fight even begins

Liked by Lewishamilton, Pierregasly, Charles_Leclerc and 890,517 others

mercedesamgf1: congratulations to our Mr & Mrs Boss on 15 years of marriage 🖤🖤 wishing for a baby boss soon

username: I am loving all the Wolff family content we are getting

username: they have 15 years to make up for

username: tbh I don't care about Toto, I just want to see YN

username: Toto didn't let people know that YN is his wife cause he knew she'd be stealing his fans

username: everyone switching to the YN LN lane

Liked by Lewishamilton, Charles_Leclerc, carlossainz55 and 917,621 others

Mercedesamgf1: The Mercedes team would like to congratulate Dr. YN LN on her hard work throughout the years and her leadership in such an important medical field. Her research has been helpful to many doctors and her website is extremely useful to our future doctors. Thank you Dr. LN for your work and dedication.

username: I love how this turned into her fan page

username: I would like to be adopted by the wolff family

username: the sunglasses are such a look

username: with every photo of her i get more and more obsessed

username: I love my mother

username: ever since they decided to go public about each other I have been feeling more and more single

username: her going to a race, toto going with her to receive her award can you all stop making us feel lonely as hell

username: wishing for her to join toto to the FIA awards ceremony

username: she will serve

username: will eat everyone up with her style and leave no crumbs

username: I am buying some crystals

username: no one will give a f about the drivers if she goes

username: bet toto took the third picture

username: for research purposes, I would like to know where the second picture was taken

Liked by Mickschumacher, formula1, maxverstappen and 918,369 others

mercedesamgf1: we would like to thank Dr. YN LN for joining us this evening, it had been a pleasure to have you with the Mercedes team. The Mercedes admin would like to ask our boss's Boss if you can please convince Mr. Wolff to give us a vacation a few days till he can find his way back from your eyes (can't blame him, I want to get lost in there too)

username: NOT THE ADMIN OUTING WHO'S THE BOSS IN THEIR MARRIAGE

username: BOSS'S BOSS!

username: well, now we know who ears the pants in this marriage

username: THE GLASSES MADE A COMBACK

username: THEY HAVE A DOG!!

username: I would not be surprised if the next photo is of them with a 14 year old kid

username: milf yn and dilf toto

username: don't mess with me rn

username: listen, I thought black is her color, but that pink dress is doing something to me

username: her doing her hair up is so sexy of her

username: fuck the kardashians, she is the only one I want to keep up with

username: you can't just make me die with a photo then to resurrect me with a cute one only to have my heartbeat crazy with the third

username: what cute one? The dog is doing nothing to distract us from her look

username: all I see is mommy

Liked by Lewishamilton, Pierregasly, Georgerussel and 826,179 others

mercedesamgf1: The boss is a bit busy, no better time for some team bonding.... the admin is so happy, thank you universe for giving Mr. Wolff some work

Lewishamilton: where are you guys? I want to join

mercedesamgf1: @.lewishamilton get in line, we have 5 other drivers on the waiting list

danielricciardo: @.mercedesamgf1 does that mean you will send me the location now?

mercedesamgf1: @.danielricciardo you are the third buddy, you have 1 British boy and 1 Spanish man in front of you

Charles_leclerc: @.mercedesamgf1 I thought I was before Carlos!

Carlossainz55: @.Charles_leclerc I told you I'm meeting her first

Georgerussell: @.mercedesamgf1 is that why everyone is coming to out paddock?

Danielricciardo: @.mercedesamgf1 wait, I was forth, who was first on the list

Mickschumacher: @.Danielricciardo hey man ✌🏼

Landonorris: tell Mrs. LN to check her phone please, I am standing in the cafe and her order isn't available

Mercedesamgf1: it's fine, you can just come to the location I sent you -Boss's boss.

Pierregasly: YOU HAVE HER NUMBER!

Maxversteppen: this is so unfair

Landonorris: go cry about it somewhere else

Mercedesamgf1: @.danielricciardo one British boy had been removed from the list

username: not everyone and their mothers wanting to meet YN

username: they are all down so bad and I understand

username: I would not be surprised if every single driver shows up next week with a swollen face

username: toto really had a point in keeping his wife hidden from these HOOLIGANS!

username: lando having her number is the most unexpected thing

username: how do you think Lewis and George are feeling?

username: they are crying in the club rn

username: not Mick being the first one on the waiting list

username: he's like a duckling following its mother whenever she comes to the paddock

username: the fact that she went twice and in both times Mick was seen just following her around

username: toto having to literally grab Mick by the back of his neck to be able to have a moment with his wife was the best thing to happen in 2023

mercedesamgf1: unfortunately all drivers that aren't with our team are banned from the paddock, Boss's order

username: toto really fighting for his wife's attention

[pix3lplays]

I just had MASSIVE brain worms with anon’s thoughts on aventurine and sunday— OK SO

The whole jealous/possessive trope? Yeah, how about that with those two :) you meet aventurine at one of penacony’s bars or clubs and bond over some cards after he teaches you. What becomes a regular, friendly match turns into cute meetings and he ventures to take you out into town. Now I see aventurine as the teasing and touchy type. If you’re comfy with it, he’s 1000% slinging an arm around your waist, shoulder, stuff like that.

Sunday is someone you meet naturally as he’s like one of the major heads of the Family on all of Penacony. Maybe your job has you bond with him during social or political meetings but his smile and kind mannerisms seem a little less forced with you: one of Sunday’s signals that he is fond of you.

Well BOTH of these men scream (a lil manipulative) and VERY observant so naturally they’d absolutely know it if the other is harboring feelings or stealing longing glances.

Sunday showering you in gifts, some anonymous with poetic letters, some personally handed to you. Aventurine showing you off around town while he carries your shopping bags for you, letting you do anything your cute heart desires. He’d make eye contact with Sunday from across the street and just fucking SMIRK. I know he would. But because both men are powerful and supposed to be diplomatic to one another between the IPC and Family, they can’t exactly eliminate competition :(

Ahhhhhhh no thoughts head empty, just THIS

Oh my word your brain is so big I could listen to you talk about this all day.

@fire-lizard-ro for helping me out!

Cw! Manipulation

But oh my gosh what I’d do to be stuck in between AVENTURINE and Mr. SUNDAY PLEASE but also WOAH that’s terrifying~

Mr. Aventurine. Real dangerous. Manipulative. Hard to read. But he’ll buy you whatever your eyes land on, and his arm feels so nice wrapped loosely around your waist…

Mr. Sunday won’t indulge you quite as much. He doesn’t believe in buying affections, like Aventurine does. But that doesn’t mean he won’t give you attention. He’s full of pretty little words and pretty little presents, and of course any time spent with Sunday lives in your head for a long, long time.

They’re both So manipulative. Aventurine likes the classic: look at all I’ve given you. You can’t live without me. While Sunday doesn’t Say it but he definitely makes you think it.

Imagine just…being with Aventurine in the casino. You’re sitting on his lap, kissing his jaw, kissing his tattoo, helping him cheat at cards…

It looks like the night is about to end on a high note, until one more challenger appears. Mr. Sunday himself.

Neither of them say it, but you know it too. The final prize, Aventurine’s last gamble…

You.

Aventurine and Sunday were going to play one last round for you.

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

Eddie had called out of work the next day. Steve could hear him making his apologies to Mrs. Henderson who'd taken over the running of the shop when her husband passed.

Steve knew she'd probably tell him to stay home for the rest of the week, probably longer if she could get away with it, but Eddie loved every second he spent working there. Adored Dustin. Adored the other kids, Steve's kids, who used the back room for their dice game after closing on Thursday evenings.

Eddie would have to be beaten away from the premises with a bat. A bat with nails.

Steve might just have to give it a try if the idiot refused to rest properly.

He wasn't mothering him.

He was like… distant cousining him.

When he heard Eddie retreat back to his room after the call and when a light rumbling of snores came through the wall maybe a half an hour later, Steve finally made his exit from his room.

He hadn’t wanted Eddie to think he needed to put on a brave face or act like he was okay if Steve was out in the public spaces while he made the call. 

Not because he cared.

Just so Eddie wouldn’t have to pretend.

And so he himself didn’t have to deal with the tension.

Yeah, right.

Also, it was the least he could do to complete Eddie's designated chores off the whiteboard that there had been war over. 

Robin and Eddie’s friend Chrissy had been forced to come in and mediate the whiteboard before one of them set the other's hair on fire. Though by the end of the day the two best friends had been too busy making eyes at each other to be of any help.

Steve was taking a risk; messing with the delicate whiteboard balance that stayed the same, week in, week out, lest another war start. But if Eddie wasn’t up for going to work, he certainly wouldn’t be up for sweeping, mopping, countertops and garbage.

And like, Steve could hardly blame him, he’d been through a lot yesterday, he’d been betrayed by the guy he’d cared most about. He was attacked and had his heart broken all in one night.

So it was whatever.

Just a few chores. 

Whatever.

At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping the noise down. Eddie could sleep through the apartment being ripped up by a cyclone then dropped into Oz.

He’d probably sleep through any and all musical numbers to follow, too.

Though he’d be bummed about missing them.

A few hours had passed by that point and Steve was just about to sit his lovely bottom on the couch to enjoy some good old fashioned thoughtless tv when there was a knock at the door.

He half expected Mrs. Henderson to be on the other side with half a hospital in tow behind her as well as, like, fifteen gallons of her famous chicken noodle soup. Which Steve would not turn down for love nor money and would steal a minimum 50% share.

As was his right.

But it wasn’t Claudia.

It was some guy. 

Some guy who had a bandage over his nose, a harsh purple colour blooming underneath, sitting a little off as though broken. Some guy who had cuts and scratch marks all over his face and neck.

Some guy who seemed to be affronted at the very sight of him.

But as he stood there Steve could see the clogged up gears working in his brain before the guy opened his mouth and said "You're Steve, the roommate."

Steve pursed his lips. 

Well, this interaction was off to a great start. 

Though if this was who Steve thought he was, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

"I'm Steve. Eddie's the roommate.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “What was with the look?"

The guy blinked at him. "What look?"

"The look you gave me, when I opened the door. Like I'd shit on your shoe." He answered with a cocked eyebrow and a cocked hip.

"Oh, uh… I just thought Eddie had shacked up with someone already.” The guy laughed. “Bit soon.” He shrugged and smiled at Steve as though looking for some kind of commiseration for a good joke, two men giving each other nudges about how silly their wives were or whatever other shit straight people did.

But Steve had no commiseration to give.

So this was definitely the shithead, then. Rick.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, practically acting like a barricade, blocking off access to the apartment with his arms crossed. "Don’t like the idea of him having someone at home?” He asked in a light tone. “Bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

Rick’s face immediately soured. "That wasn't his business to tell."

“I think you lose the privilege to that kind of privacy when you fuck around on people you’re supposed to love.” Steve shrugged. “Or just people in general.”

“Who the hell are you to judge me?” Rick puffed his chest out. “You don’t know me.”

“And thank god for that. I don’t need to know you. I know you’re a cheater, that’s enough.”

Rick scoffed. “Whatever, man. I’m not here to debate morality or some shit with you. I’m here to see Eddie.”

“No.” Steve answered as simply as he could. 

The guy seemed to need things to be concise.

Rick looked bewildered. “Ex- excuse me?”

“You got cotton in your ears or something? I said no.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? His keeper? You know he hates you right?”

Steve pulled his mouth down into a mocking pout. “Oh no.” He sighed, deadpan. “I’m so heartbroken.”

“Listen, I’m not getting into it with you right now, man. So call Eddie out or move.”

“Or what?” Steve leaned forward a little, feeling his blood light on fire. 

There would be nothing more he’d love at this moment than Rick trying to square up to fight. 

The guy was a little taller than him, but Steve was much broader, much stronger and though it wasn’t something he liked to do, he knew he could throw a decent punch if it was for someone else.

That much was obvious. 

Thinking back on the things Eddie had said last night, the things Rick had tried, the way he’d cried into Steve’s shoulder, Steve would break Rick’s nose all over again if given half a chance.

“Steve.”

Eddie appeared next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from the door.

Rick looked between the two of them before his eyes landed back on Steve, snapping at him “You can fuck off now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh, can I?’, but even so, he looked at Eddie, waiting for some sign of what he wanted, whether he wanted him to stay or go.

But Eddie gave no indication of what he wanted, wedging himself in between the two and pulling the door tighter to himself, his expression thunderous through the blooming bruises and angry cuts.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve took that as his cue to go. Even through all the bluster and posturing and how much the two of them still didn’t like each other-

We barely tolerate each other, Steve insisted to himself, we don’t like each other. I don’t like him.

-he wasn’t going to force himself into this drama and if Eddie needed to tear this guy to shreds on his own, Steve would let him.

But he had barely taken a step back before Eddie’s hand shot out, grasping at what he could until he had a fistful of Steve’s shirt, white knuckling it and stopping him in his tracks.

The movement was hidden by the door, Rick wouldn’t have been able to see it and Eddie didn’t acknowledge that he’d done anything, still staring his ex down.

Steve stopped dead where he was and when Eddie seemed to realise that he wouldn’t be moving, his hand loosened, coming back up to rest against the door.

“I’m here to sort things out between us. Try to fix it.” Rick said, his voice going soft.

Eddie exhaled a derisive laugh through his nose. “Why don’t you go and ‘fix’ your wife?”

Steve crossed his arms, standing guard in the back but still mostly out of sight.

“C’mon babe…” Rick reached out, attempting to grasp at Eddie’s fingers but Eddie snatched his hand back. “I think you’re just… making a big deal out of this when you don’t need to.”

“A big deal?” Eddie snapped, leaning forward. “Not only have you been cheating on your wife but you’ve been cheating on me too.”

“You?” Rick sputtered, incredulous.

He exhaled with an eye roll and only then noticed that Steve was still standing there.

“Are you serious?” Rick almost shrieked. “What the hell are you still here for? Show’s over, normie!” He waved his hand in Steve’s direction as though dismissing him.

Steve raised his eyebrows and smiled back, not moving an inch.

Rick looked back to Eddie. “Are you not going to do anything about him? We’re in the middle-”

“Oh my god.” Steve injected as much sarcasm as he could. “Is this a private conversation? I had no idea.”

Rick’s face was turning red with frustration. “You got a real attitude problem, man.”

Steve turned his mouth down in a pout. “Oh no.”

“That’s it.” Rick slammed against the door all of a sudden, wrenching it from Eddie’s grip and almost blowing it open if it wasn’t for Steve’s hands stopping it in its tracks.

The sudden stop jostled Rick, sending him slightly off balance and Eddie took the opportunity to kick out hard, swinging his leg up until it landed in between Rick’s legs. 

Eddie retracted his foot for just a second as Rick crumpled with a scream of pain before kicking out again, catching him in the hip and shoving him back into the hallway, sending him sprawling.

“Lose my fucking number, asshole.” 

Eddie spat down at Rick before turning back inside and slamming the door behind him.

His eyes were still narrowed and furious as he glared at Steve who could do nothing but stand there.

The sound of Rick’s groans were still echoing beyond the door as the two of them looked at each other.

The silence stretched on as Eddie heaved heavy breaths in and out and Steve stared dumbfounded.

There was a glossy sheen to Eddie’s eyes by the time Steve opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say.

But it didn’t matter.

Eddie stormed past him without a backwards glance, his hair just disappearing behind the door before he slammed it closed and the wailing of a guitar and the crashing of drums started to scream out of the speakers in his room.

He didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day. Didn’t knock on his door to try to pull him out and didn’t try to get him to talk.

Steve was only just waking up the day after when he heard Eddie’s bedroom door open and shuffling coming down the hall towards the phone.

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting in his room while he heard Eddie’s muttered conversation. 

He didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to have to force his presence on Eddie before it was necessary but he really had to pee and he’d have to walk past the phone to get to the bathroom.

Thankfully the conversation didn’t last long but then Eddie shuffled away from his own room towards the bathroom and Steve had to take some very deep breaths.

He couldn’t really be mad at him for it, the guy hadn’t come out of his room at all yesterday after the confrontation, he deserved to pee but Steve felt like his kidneys were gonna start failing at any second.

When he heard Eddie shuffle back into his room Steve nearly cracked the wall with how hard he threw the door open, rushing down the hallway and into the bathroom before he exploded.

Eddie hadn’t made another appearance by the time Steve was grabbing his keys for work and as much as it irritated him, he was feeling a little wary about leaving him all alone for most of the day.

Turned out he didn’t really need to worry about it.

Just as he had turned back towards Eddie’s room, there was a knock on the front door.

He swung it open to find bouncing blonde curls and a bright perky smile.

“Hi Steve.”

“Oh, hey Chrissy.” He stepped aside, allowing her to sweep inside. Her sweater was very unusual. Dark blue and baggy and tucked into her light wash jeans. Steve could have sworn he’d seen it before. There was a large plastic bag in her hand that a glance inside told him was filled with every tooth rottingly sweet thing she could have scooped off the shelves at their local store.

She placed the bag on the kitchen counter with a light clink of glass against glass coming from inside.

Maybe it was also a day-drunk type of visit.

“How is he?” Chrissy asked, blinking up at him with her big earnest eyes.

“I’m… not sure?” Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

“I think I’m probably going to call over to Robin’s after work.” He muttered, trying to keep his burning blush down. “Hang out for a little bit.”

He didn’t think he needed to say he was doing it to give Chrissy and Eddie their space, to do their ice-cream and chocolate and alcohol and talk about how terrible men were without him hovering. But thankfully she got it, smiling at him so bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Could you…?” She hesitated, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. “Could you ask Robin- never mind.”

Steve opened his mouth to assure her it was okay to continue but she barrelled on.

“The boys are coming over later too. Is that okay?”

“The boys?” Did she mean the kids?

“From the band.”

“Oh! Yeah I mean why wouldn’t that be okay? Eddie lives here too.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to check in case-”

“In case I complained about it later?” He tried to ask in his kindest tone. Maybe he’d been guilty of bitching about them in the past but he would never deny Eddie his support system, not at s time like this.

Even if he did… dislike him?

Did he still dislike him?

What was he talking about, of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” Chrissy looked incredibly guilty and Steve couldn’t stand it.

“No, you were right to ask. I haven’t- I’ve been a bit rude in the past.”

She looked like she wanted to apologise again so he shot her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “I have to get to work, but take care of him, yeah?”

She gave him a curious look but nodded, sending him out the door with a wave of her hand, her sleeve following loosely where it was still pulled over her fingers.

Steve was halfway through his shift by the time Robin came in. She worked shorter hours ever since she’d taken that part time internship as a translator.

They’d just gotten past their mid-day coffee rush by the time they had a chance to talk.

“Are you doing anything after this?” He asked her, leaning back against the counter.

“Is this your way of asking me out?” Robin was rifling through the under counter refrigerator next to him, throwing out any old stock that had gone out of date.

“Yes.” Steve nodded. “I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years and I thought now was the best time to confess.”

“You could have picked a more romantic location.” She sniffed at a container of strawberries, considering before shaking her head and dumping them.

“But my heart told me it had to be now, Birdie.”

Robin just rolled her eyes at him.

“So?” He nudged her with his foot, very nearly sending her off balance. “You, me, two of the best subs this city has and your couch. It’s my best offer.”

She shut the refrigerator door, pushing herself to stand, using the counter for balance. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Steve absentmindedly snapped his fingers at her, remembering.

“Oh! You have a date tonight, right?” 

“I did have a date tonight but sh- he cancelled.”

“He cancelled, did he?” Steve smirked, trying not to enjoy the poorly masked revulsion on Robin’s face at having to pretend to be dating a man.

“Yes. He did. Rain check for another time.”

“Bummer.” 

Robin hadn’t told him much about the girl she was seeing and Steve hadn’t pushed for any more information than she was willing to give. When she wanted him to know, he’d know.

“But-” he continued “-that leaves your schedule wide open for a date with me.” He spread his arms wide open and smiled at her.

“Well, aren't I just the luckiest girl in the world?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“The luckiest. Any reason for the rain check?”

Robin nodded. “Friend emergency.”

“Oh. That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s a very sweet…” her nose scrunched up, “boy.”

“Very sweet boy.” He repeated with a smile. “So can I steal your keys? Have everything all spread out for you when you get home?” He dragged his hand down his chest, wiggling his hips.

“God, Steven.” Robin shuddered. “You’re repulsive.”

“Wrong. I am a dish.”

“Ugh. Gag.”

Steve pouted at her. “I’ll get you a milkshake too, how about that?”

She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. “Fine.”

She could only hold for so long before she started to break, cracking a smile.

“If you two don’t mind,” a voice next to them said and they both jumped, seeing Mark their manager standing there, “could you stop flirting and get back to work?”

Neither of them even bothered arguing that they were not flirting anymore. They both knew the rest of the staff had a betting pool going on when they would get together.

They would be waiting a very long time.

By the time Robin got home, Steve had himself swaddled in her blankets and had stolen her best hot water bottle.

Why did she live somewhere so cold?

His toasty warmth didn’t last very long, however. 

She wrestled the hot water bottle from his grip by resorting to dirty tactics, pulling at his hair until he let it go. 

“How many times have I told you the hair is off limits?” He hissed at her, trying to fix it. His hair was his fucking signature, how could she be so rude?

“That is exactly why I go for it every time. It’s your weak spot.” She grinned, smug in her win and attempting to pull the throw off of him as well.

“Go get one of my sweaters if you’re gonna be such a big bitch baby about it. I just got off work.” She pouted, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m tired.”

“I brought you subs and milkshakes!”

Robin heaved out a heavy, put upon sigh. “Fine.” She heaved herself up from the couch, still clutching at the hot water bottle and disappeared inside her room.

Steve took the opportunity to swaddle himself again, just getting cosy when he heard Robin call out, “Evie, did you steal my sweater?”

“Which one?” He shouted back. He probably had five or more of hers at home and he wasn’t even sure if all of those had started out as hers or his.

“The blue one!”

“Which blue one?”

“The new blue one!”

“What does it look like?”

“What do you think it looks like, it’s fucking blue!”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to remember any blue sweaters that existed within his own apartment. 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have it. I don’t even remember you getting a new blue sweater.”

“Well where the hell is it then?”

“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t even know it existed!”

“You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Maybe the sweater fairy stole it.” He snickered to himself until a dark red sweater that had definitely belonged to him first hit him in the face.

“You are the sweater fairy.” She pouted, sitting back down and stealing the throw from his lap.

“Don’t hate crime me. It’s rude.” He tugged the throw back over his legs, leaving her enough slack to cover herself as well.

Robin reached over to snatch her sub from the coffee table. “So.”

“So.”

“Something’s going on with Eddie.”

“What?” Steve ran through the entire day in his head. He didn’t think he’d mentioned Eddie once. “When did I say there was something going on with Eddie?”

“You didn’t.” Robin’s mouth went slack in the way it usually did whenever she was hiding something but she covered it up with a large bite, speaking through a full mouth. “But you’re here and not at home so…”

“That’s not that unusual.”

“No, but what is unusual is that you asked if you could steal my keys instead of just taking them.”

“Oh.” Yeah. That was not the norm. “Um, well it’s not really my place to say-”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Tell me.” She jabbed him with a sharp elbow.

“I don’t know if I can.” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“I mean, nothing too personal, if you don’t wanna.” She backtracked with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. The thing is it’s not my business, it’s Eddie’s.” He shrugged. “But there was some… relationship drama the other night.”

“Ooh. Juicy drama?”

Steve winced. “Not exactly. More like… red flag drama.”

“Oh shit. Chr- I didn’t know that.”

Steve looked at her, bewildered. “I wouldn’t expect you to, how would you know?”

Robin just shrugged, shoving another large bite into her mouth. 

“I don’t really… I’m not comfortable talking about the things Eddie and I talked about but I do need you to help me… figure myself out.”

“Okay, that I can do. I’m an expert at it. I helped you find your sexuality.”

“Find it? It wasn’t fucking lost Birdie.”

“Yeah, but I brought it out into the sunlight.”

“Jesus, you’re acting like you released it from captivity. I knew. I’ve always known. Just because you didn’t know that I know, doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

She shoved his arm. “I unlocked it.”

He shoved her back. “You didn’t unlock shit.”

She shoved him again. “I unlocked it. You’re welcome.” 

He gave her a final shove with a huff to go right along with it. “Whatever.”

“Okay, no more side tracking. Tell me your scrambly brain thoughts.”

“Alright. Um. Okay. So.” Shit. How much could he tell her without either breaking Eddie’s trust or revealing too much. “So there was drama the other night, between Eddie and the boyfriend, you know that much. I won’t say what happened but he didn’t get home until like four in the morning and he called out of work yesterday and today-”

“He called out?!” Robin shrieked, open mouthed. She’d lived with Eddie long enough and been through enough of Steve’s bitching to know just how much Eddie loved that job.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was… it wasn’t good, Birdie, what happened. It was actually really fucking fucked up.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“So then yesterday he’s trying to sleep it off pretty much and there’s a knock at the door.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah and I go get it because I had assumed it would be Mrs. Henderson with some chicken noodle soup and you know I’d kill my own mother for some of that soup-”

“-I’d kill your mother for some too, yes.”

“-yeah. But it wasn’t Mrs. Henderson, it was Rick, the boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, I don’t know and he was trying to like, bully his way into the apartment to see Eddie and I don’t know what happened with me but-”

“-you went full guard dog protector mode didn’t you?”

“I…” Steve sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, I did. Why did I do that? It’s none of my business. I don’t even like the guy. Why would I care?”

“Because you always care, Evie. You saw someone who needed help and you helped, it’s what you do.”

Steve scoffed. “Hardly. It’s not like I’m some fucking selfless hero for doing it.”

“Nah, you kinda are.”

“It was just some guy!”

“And you’re just some guy too!”

Steve glared at her, offended. “You take that back.”

Robin looked at him for a moment. “Okay, fair, retracted.”

He gave her a small grin and dragged the sleeves of the sweater over his fingers.

“Hey! Stop, you’ll stretch it!”

“What does it matter if I stretch it, it’s mine.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” He jabbed her in the side, knowing full well that if they continued the way they were this could go on all night. It had gone on all night more than once.

Robin squawked and immediately lunged, her hands grabbing at the top of his head. 

“No, no! I told you not the hair!”

“And I told you it’s your weakness.” She hissed, her eyes flashing as he scrambled at her wrists before she could get her fingers buried deep enough.

“Boobies!” He shouted, as loud as possible. The effect was immediate, Robin tried to cringe away from him with a look of disgust. “Boobies, boobies, boobies!”

“Oh my god are you five fucking years old? Can you not say tits or breasts or fucking mammary glands or something like a damn adult?” She wrenched her wrists away from him. “I’m so embarrassed for you.”

“I’m embarrassed of your face.”

“I’m embarrassed of your weird man hair.” She scowled, patting at his chest. 

“You shouldn’t be. Everyone loves the chest hair. Even the lesbians. It’s like a respect thing.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Steve pouted to himself.

He just wanted to help. He wanted to make sure Eddie was okay, that he would continue to be okay and there was this horrible little part in the back of his head that also wanted to make sure that no one would put their hands on Eddie ever like that again.

It was weird and possessive in a way he really shouldn’t have been feeling about his irritating as shit roommate who didn’t even have the courtesy to play guitar with headphones on half the time.

No matter how good his playing was.

“I can smell your hair burning.”

“What do I do now, Birdie?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I want to help, I guess. But I don’t know how. We don’t even like each other, why would he accept my help?”

“Well… how did he react when you did what you did?”

“He… I guess he… I was going to leave when Rick came to the door and he stopped me. He didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t even look at me but he grabbed onto me and… I think he was scared, Rob. I’ve never seen him scared.”

“Well Steve, I think you’re gonna do what you always do. Help. Whether you know you’re doing it or not, whether you even really mean to, you always help.”

"You're making me out to be some sort of saint."

“I’m really not.” She shook her head. “You’re just… you.”

“Wow, incredible observation there, Birdie.”

“Oh, fuck off and finish this for me.” She shoved the rest of her sub into his hands.

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

[dmercer91]

hooked, jh86

in which jack is quite literally sleeping with the enemy.

most of the rangers give me egregious vibes so there are hardly any in here and i used their ig handles for twitter i didn't feel like finding the correct ones - set in 2023-24 season

jackhughes

liked by yourusername, nicohischier and 147,122 others

jackhughes: drives me mad

view 1,239 comments..

yourusername: in ny we hard launch like grownups

→ jackhughes: oh yeah?

→ yourusername: once you fuck this one up i’ll swoop in and prove it to u hughesy ;)

trevorzegras: admitting that you’re easily rizzed is crazy

→ jackhughes: easily 🤨

→ trevorzegras: ‘the hit could’ve been harder maybe she likes me 🤭’

→ user: did she hit him with her car or????

user: hit? as in like hockey hit? y/n??????

→ user: she just threatened to mr steal your girl him tho so idk

yourusername: jhugh big foot guy eh?

→ jackhughes: what the fuck y/n

_quinnhughes: luke?

→ lhughes_06: i can’t even explain without giving myself a migraine

dawson1417: i’m telling nico

→ jackhughes: there’s nothing to tell nico 🤨

→ nicohischier: nico uses context clues to deduce things

elblue6: ❤️

view more comments..

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes and 129,483 others

yourusername: van @ nyr except i adopted the sad one

jack was there too, unfortunately

load 1,612 comments..

jackhughes: now what is this

→ yourusername: i’m already planning on adding z to my collection when the ducks are up here

→ trevorzegras: did u just say collection

→ jackhughes: so you wanna be friends with all my friends but i try and be friends w u and i’m gross? ouch

→ yourusername: have u ever considered that you’re my teams rival

→ jackhughes: i’ve considered it and also decided it won’t stop me

→ yourusername: have you considered that you’re icky

→ jackhughes: wtf

_quinnhughes: ankle biter

→ yourusername: it was his shoulder and i can bite him whenever i want

nyrangers: traitor :(

→ yourusername: no admin it’s ok it’s the good hughesy

→ lhughes_06: i’ve done nothing to you

→ yourusername: you get in my way a lot

shesterkinigor: funny

→ yourusername: i try

view more comments..

njdevils

liked by yourusername, dougieham and 17,444 others

njdevils: we guess this one’s not so bad 😉 @yourusername

view 592 comments..

user: this is.. unsettling

user: him patting her after every connection was top tier i need her in a devs jersey

yourusername: don’t let this fool you i still like quinn better

→ jackhughes: will you let me have this one

→ yourusername: you’re lucky i didn’t throw the game just so you’d lose

→ lhughes_06: there’s always next year

nyrangers: we can admit that this one (1) thing is cute

→ yourusername: enemies to lovers??????

→ nyrangers: no, y/n.

→ yourusername: ok attitude

jackhughes: thanks for the passes or whatever @yourusername

→ yourusername: shut up

user: they’re sleeping in the same hotel room??

→ yourusername: no j just commits some light b&e in his free time

→ jackhughes: did you just call me j

→ yourusername: i also called you a felon

→ trevorzegras: i think he’s just gonna look right past that

user: loving the full blown conversations happening in comment sections lately

view more comments..

yourusername

liked by elblue6, dougieham and 179,537 others

yourusername: ⛽️

view 2,029 comments..

jackhughes: i thought nyers hard launched 🤨

→ yourusername: do you have my notifs on??

→ jackhughes: no comment

user: those are jacks hands

→ user: why do you… know that, even?

user: this is why the nhl is all men lmao they aren’t focused on fucking their opponents

→ yourusername: oh babe.. i have some news for you

→ user: ITS A PLAYER?????????

dougieham: gross

→ yourusername: behave douglas

lhughes_06: what pro hockey player has another man tie her skates for her

→ yourusername: the kind that knows your address and will take your ligaments away

nyrangers: our girl

→ user: can i have your girl

→ njdevils: ^

→ nyrangers: no

_quinnhughes: you hurt my brain

→ yourusername: ok

user: THE TYING THE SKATES!!! JACKS SOFT LAUNCH

view more comments..

twitterhockeybropodcast

y/n y/ln has allegedly requested a trade out of new york 👀

722 ❤ 312 ↳ 147 💬

view comments..

dawson1417: you know @/yourusername i’ve heard jerseys pretty nice

→ dawson1417: you wouldn’t even have to move!

→ yourusername: oh boy

trevorzegras: y/n/n y/ln YOU are an anaheim duck

→ _quinnhughes: step back off my teammate

→ yourusername: you’re both delusional

user: awh the guys wanting her on their teams 🥹

colecaufield: i’ll teach you french @/yourusername

→ yourusername: i only want to know the bad words

→ colecaufield: that’s doable

→ yourusername: sold

user: quinn and the honorary hughes’ is cute but WHERE IS JACK??

→ user: right like he hasn’t even liked it

→ user: he took down his soft launch?

edwards.73: you will eventually get to play with me if you go to jersey @/yourusername

→ yourusername: it's really cute that you though this would help build your case ed

→ edwards.73: can't blame a guy for trying

jackhughes: does this mean we can be friends now?

→ yourusername: oh lol sure

→ user: oh this was painful to read

to, j 💥: is everything ok?? read, 6:33pm

to, j 💥: jack what the hell read, 7:12pm

to, j 💥: you can't really be moody cause i requested a trade from a team you don't even play for lmao

from, j 💥: i'm at practice. talk later

to, j 💥: i'm literally with daws and luke right now dude

to, j 💥: wtf did i do?? read, 7:44pm

to, j 💥: since when am i the one begging to make this work????

to, j 💥: you've been telling me for fucking months you didn't care what it meant as long as we could try us out

to, j 💥: you can't tell me how much you want me around one day and work so hard to make me believe you and then completely flip my world around the next that's not fair read, 8:19pm

to, j 💥: i at least deserve an explanation

from, jack: maybe i'm sick of people telling me i'm fucking up my whole life for you and that you're just gonna dump me before the playoffs so i lose focus

to, jack: hello?? lose focus against the team i'm requesting to leave?

to, jack: and who is people? all i've done is prove that i wouldn't fucking do that

to, jack: i'm literally with two of your teammates right now read, 8:25pm

to, jack: whatever, j. i asked for a trade for you lmao

from, jack: how is that for me? you're gonna be in a completely different fucking state and we'll never see each other

to, jack: that's what this is abt?? you could've just said something, j

from, jack: i don't think you can just unrequest the trade, y/n.

from, jack: what's done is done

to, jack: what would've happened if they just traded me regardless of if i asked?? would you have shut me out cause you don't like the distance when it wasn't my fault?

from, jack: that's different and u know it

to, jack: whatever jack

to, jack: see you wednesday

from jack: against the avs?? you got traded to fucking colorado?

to, jack: no. i got traded to the devils.

njdevils

ranger devil 😈 @/yourusername

2922 ❤ 456 ↳ 78 💬

view comments..

yourusername: i've always looked good in red

→ njdevils: our girl

dawson1417: FUCK YEAHHHH

→ yourusername: LEFT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR!!

→ dawson1417: RIGHT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR !!!!!!

lhughes_06: i'm gonna get bullied so much more often

→ yourusername: amen to that moosey

→ lhughes_06: no, not amen to that y/n/n

user: again i ask WHERE IS JACK

nicohischier: another one that won't listen to me

→ yourusername: not reporting for duty, cap 🫡

→ nicohischier: i'm not endeared

→ yourusername: fuck yeah you are

trevorzegras: i know i'm not meant to take personal offence to this but i am

→ yourusername: quinn is GROUCHY

→ _quinnhughes: why does jack get all the cool people i want to have a lake house adoptee on the canucks

→ yoursername: just bring petey

→ eliaspettersson_: do not volunteer me for that chaos

user: i'm kinda concerned at the lack of jack and y/n lately like what happened

jackhughes: new liney?

→ yourusername: new liney :)

→ lhughes_06: 🤨

→ user: luke don't expose your brother's weird cryptic comments as being weird and cryptic challenge

→ lhughes_06: hmm no

njdevils

liked by nicohischier, jackhughes and 34,899 others

njdevils: we think we've seen this film before and we loved the ending (bratter - jack - y/n/n line supremacy)

view 583 comments..

jackhughes: start building the statue

→ yourusername: fucking right

user: the way that she just screamed in his face on her first assist to his goal i could SOB

→ user: and his fucking SMILE BACK AT HER

→ user: and her third goal!! the jump into his arms

user: in love w them actually

→ njdevils: us too

lhughes_06: they should've smooched on centre ice with the hats falling down

→ lhughes_06: what lol who said that

dawson1417: RIGHT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR DID THAT

→ yourusername: i couldn't have done wonderwall with out your harmonizing merc

→ dawson1417: i do have the voice of an angel

trevorzegras: i love how it feels to be a hater

→ _quinnhughes: ^

→ yourusername: wonderwall concert, 5pts, and i got quinn hughes to agree with trevor zegras. i am her.

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, nicohischier and 289,111 others

yourusername: j <3

view 677 comments..

jackhughes: favourite liney?

→ yourusername: forever liney

lhughes_06: open your messages you demonic being

→ yourusername: do u know how much EFFORT that is

→ lhughes_06: i could imagine it's not a lot??

dawson1417: yucky

→ yourusername: we facetime like teenaged girls n you and ryleigh screeched in excitement when you recognized his room this morning

→ dawson1417: ok???? i screeched cause of the yuckiness

_quinnhughes: i guess you not being a canuck is tolerable if this is the outcome

→ trevorzegras: speak for yourself quintin i want her to be my liney forever 😾

→ yourusername: sorry z <3

→ jackhughes: she's not sorry

→ yourusername: i'm sort of sorry

→ trevorzegras: good enough!

user: SCREAMING AND CRYING OMG

→ user: WE'VE BEEN WAITING

user: mom n dad

dougieham: this is terrefying

→ yourusername: ok

john.marino97: new reality tv show live in the locker room except theres no drama it's just hughesy being whipped

→ yourusername: your favourite!

→ john.marino97: i hate every second

njdevils: it's not like we saw this coming or anything

→ yourusername: ADMIN

view more comments..

[adore-laur]

HOME IS A FEELING

— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃

——

"Don't turn around." 

The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.

"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around." 

"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good." 

You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country." 

It's not an exaggeration or falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.

Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero." 

You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door. 

You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave." 

"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us." 

Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up. 

A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist. 

"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream. 

The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive. 

Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you. 

Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there. 

Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those?        

A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.

Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep. 

You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own. 

Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to? 

He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of it still make your heart race.

Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.

Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth. 

"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat. 

You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to you now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last? 

Snap out of it! 

"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat. 

Finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours. 

"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry. 

"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."

"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts." 

The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight. 

"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends. 

They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated. 

"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?" 

You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak." 

"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one." 

Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring. 

Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone. 

"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again. 

You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden? 

When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response. 

He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying. 

His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me." 

"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets. 

Harry huffs and sits in his seat. 

Everything used to be so easy with him. 

                                             —— 

                                  Two Years Ago

It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door. 

"Knock knock." 

In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked." 

Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there." 

"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you." 

He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too." 

"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table." 

"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow. 

"Don't fall asleep."

"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night." 

"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."

After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway. 

Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you. 

Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful. 

—— 

You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is. 

Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair. 

This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers. 

You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner. 

When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open, and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text, only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later. 

You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks. 

"Were my hands dirty or something?" 

Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there? 

"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously. 

Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned. 

He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?" 

Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked." 

"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice. 

"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?" 

"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school." 

Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?" 

"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself." 

He asked about you? No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program." 

Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?" 

A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink? 

You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision." 

He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time." 

Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet. 

"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean." 

You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day." 

He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to." 

"You don't have a roommate?"

"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space." 

Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.

"I know. Don't know why I even asked." 

It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading. 

Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom." 

You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow." 

He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please." 

It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.

"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation. 

Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete. 

Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well. 

He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy. 

"What did we do wrong?" 

                                           —— 

                 Three Months After Graduation

The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend who's not even close to him? 

Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel. 

Your weak spot was him, and you were his. 

You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?" 

"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try." 

He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love. 

"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly." 

Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way." 

"Fine," you repeated. 

You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run? 

He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home." 

The door slammed shut, and reality sunk in. 

—— 

The open sign of the diner flickers below. 

"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him. 

"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit." 

The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on." 

He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face." 

In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other." 

He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me, you know that. The feeling never disappeared no matter how much I pushed it down." 

You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel." 

"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you." 

It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out. 

"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after." 

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other." 

He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." 

The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong. 

The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?" 

He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mum, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp." 

"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach. 

"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?" 

It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain? 

"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again." 

You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.

"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me." 

A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either." 

"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?" 

You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."

"What now? We're back to being strangers?" 

"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you." 

You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you. 

"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else." 

It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without a proper goodbye.

"You can hold me." 

And so he does for the last time. 

Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to — his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely winded around you, squeezing the sides of your body. Breathing you in like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other. 

You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you — every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him. 

"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat. 

Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same." 

You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?" 

"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles." 

Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony. 

He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway." 

You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car." 

He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.

Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on. 

"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better. 

Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters. 

"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.

"Now we're both crying."

He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks." 

"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened." 

You're only trying to convince yourself at this point. 

"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?" 

His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either? 

Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.

"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you? 

"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you." 

You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean." 

He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car. 

"Wait."

He freezes. "Yeah?"

Don't make it harder.

Leave. 

Don't hurt yourself. 

Yet the way he looks at you is enough to ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."

Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.

A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge. 

Why? 

Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away. 

You still mean so much to me. 

—— 

Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories with Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening. 

Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him. 

The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you. 

That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it. 

Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly? 

—— 

The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit. 

The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped onto it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you would steal his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you. 

- January 29th - 

Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love from the moment she walks into a room? 

Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul. 

I hope she sees the same thing. 

- June 6th - 

We graduated! We're finally done with high school!

When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms. 

College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other. 

I always have time for her. 

- August 2nd - 

I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology. 

She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it. 

If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again. 

Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later. 

Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mum's house so he could sleep better at night. 

So he can be reminded of home. 

It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. His home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you. 

Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go. 

The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart. 

——

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

hello how are you?, if you're not too busy you could do the 141 boys and konig where reader steals a kiss from them or a surprise kiss of course they are already in a relationship with the reader haha I think it's hard to catch these boys off guard but let's try love your work and your writing is wonderful. Thanks

Forgot to post this one last night! I'll be back to writing in a few days🩷🩵

Thank you for these kind words!

Catching the 141 Boys And König By Surprise With A Kiss

Warnings: fluff, swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

Simon was beyond irritated. He'd been tasked with leading a training seminar for a bunch of recruits, and nothing went right. None of the recruits were picking up on what he was teaching, and they all seemed to make a joke of it.

Later that afternoon, he found himself yearning for your prescene and set out to find you. He walked into the weapons locker, and found you sitting at one of the tables cleaning your weapon.

Simon ripped off his mask in a fit of frustration as he stormed inside the room, prompting you to look up at him.

"You okay, Si?" You asked as your brows furrowed in concern.

"Shit day." He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes, smudging the black paint all over his hands as he sat down on the chair across from you.

You gave him a knowing glance before setting down your weapon. "And you need little old me to cheer you up, that it?"

He let out an annoyed huff as he rolled his eyes at you playfully. "Never said that."

"But that's why you're here." You teased. "I'm honored, truly. I'm the great Simon Rileys muse."

You walked up to him and dropped to your knees in front of him, wiggling your way in between his legs. "Look at me."

He looked down at you and felt his cheeks burn pink at the intensity of your gaze. The two of you had done this dance for some time. Dancing the line between friendship and something more, but neither one of you had ever fully crossed that line until now.

As you stared into his deep brown eyes, you finally felt yourself grow the confidence you'd been yearning for since you'd developed feelings for Simon.

You leaned up slightly, grasping his cheeks in your hands as you placed a firm kiss to his lips.

His breath hitched in his throat as he felt your lips against his, and it took a moment for him to register what was happening. His eyes fluttered shut as he began to reciprocate the kiss, his hands flying to the small of your back to pull you closer.

He pulled back after a moment and rested his forehead on yours. "Well, that was a pleasant surprise."

"Did that cheer you up, Mr. Cranky pants?" You asked, unable to control the smile that formed on your lips.

"Not sure, I think I may need another one." His eyes flitted back down to your lips as he spoke, completely under your spell.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Have any of you seen Johnny?"

"He's in the training room, been there for hours, said he had to blow off some steam." Gaz responded, giving a knowing smile. "Think he could use a distraction."

You wandered over to the training room, and caught sight of Johnny lifting weights. The sight always had a pool of heat forming in your belly.

"Hey you." You called out, causing him to look up at you.

"Coming to join me?" He asked, setting down the weights as he walked over to you.

You found yourself oogling at your boyfriend as he approached you. He looked positively delicious. He had a thin sheen of sweat covering his body, as his muscles buldged out of his shirt, and was breathing heavily due to the over exertion. You licked your lips as your eyes raked across his figure before moving toward him briskly.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up, as you grabbed his face and smashed your lips on his, completely catching him off guard.

Johnny's eyes widened as your lips began to move against his, before wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips moved against yours in a harsh motion, leaving you breathless. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entrance, which you'd gladly granted.

His hands moved to grasp at the flesh of your ass as his tongue ran along yours, causing you to moan softly in his mouth.

The kiss lasted a few moments longer before you pulled away with a smile. "You look good."

"Do I?" He asked, his tone cocky.

"You do. Couldn't help myself."

"Well, shit, if I knew I'd be getting those kinds of kisses if you watch me workout, I'll have to do it more often." He chuckled as he leaned back down to kiss you again.

He stopped short just of your lips before pulling away once more. "So if I work out with a shirt on, I get a nice makeout session, but I don't work out with a shirt on.....think that'll get me in your pants?"

"Perv." You spoke, giggling softly at his playful tone. "But yes, yes it would."

König-

You were beyond excited. Your boyfriend, König had been away on a mission for a few days, and today was the day he and his team were returning back to base.

The two of you had been together for a few months now, and you frankly couldn't get enough of the Austrian giant. You were KorTacs head medic, and with König being as prone to injuries as he was, it didn't take long for you two to develop a strong bond.

You waited anxiously at the entrance to the base, bouncing on the heels of your feet as the team arrived.

You frantically searched through the sea of bodies that were making their way through the front door before your eyes finally fell on your boyfriend. "KÖ!"

Königs ears perked up at the sound of your voice as your frame came into his field of view.

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, as you jumped into Königs arms, nearly throwing the massive man off balance.

"Ooof!" He grunted as he caught you in his arms. "Did you miss me, Maus?"

Instead of providing him with a verbal response, you smiled at him warmly before pulling up his hood slightly and smashing your lips to his.

He gave a soft noise of surprise before his arms tightened around you to deepen the kiss. Your legs kicked gleefully behind you as you ran your tongue along his before pulling away.

"I'll take that as a yes." He said, smiling down warmly at you. He set you down gently and grabbed your hand, leading you to a corner of the room. "I thought you wanted to keep us on the down low?"

"I did. But I realized I'm not trying to hide it anymore. I want to be with you, and I don't care who knows it." You said, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles. "Plus you were gone too long, I couldn't help myself."

He let out a hearty chuckle before placing a kiss on your forehead. "I was only gone a few days, Maus."

"Any amount of time away from you is too long."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You'd been begging Kyle lately to help you with new defense techniques. You'd recently had a close call with one of the enemies, and you wanted to make sure that your skills were touched up on.

Your boyfriend had agreed almost immediately, and was keen on teaching you everything he knew on defense techniques.

"Make sure you know when to dodge, depending on the person you're engaging with, they'll usually give a telltale sign when they're about to make a move." Kyle explained as he took his position opposite of you. "It's not always going to be in your face. Always be sure to watch your opponent closely."

"Understood. I'm ready. Give me all you got, soldier." You replied, getting in your defensive stance.

Kyle gave you a firm nod before charging at you with hand aimed to strike. You dodged out of the way at the last second, sticking your leg out to throw Kyle off balance.

Kyle tripped, sending him toppling backward onto the mat behind him. "Good form." He choked out. "Don't think I taught you that one."

You gave your boyfriend a cheeky smile as you walked over and slowly dropped your weight down on top of him. You leaned down and placed your lips on his, causing him to groan out in surprise.

"Did I give a telltale sign?" You teased as you pulled away.

"I certainly wasn't expecting that, no." He chuckled. "I pray you don't use that tactic on the enemy, though. Those lips are mine, and mine alone."

John Price-

"Ghost, Soap, if you could write up a report for me on the mission, be as detailed as you can. We've got multiple eyes on this." John spoke, walking around the room. You and the 141 boys had just gotten back from a tiresome mission, and your husband was giving his usual debrief.

"Y/N, Gaz, I expect you'll be able to present the occurrences to the new general. He wants to see the team take more of a lead on stuff like this."

The team nodded collectively, murmuring their affirmations as your eyes flickered down the length of your lover's body. He was still covered in post-mission grime, and he looked delectable. "Alright, dismissed."

As everyone began to stand and make their way out of the room, you walked briskly over to your husband with a bright smile on your face. "Hey, John."

"I know that look, what are you -" John started before you cut him off by roughly placing your lips to his.

John flinched slightly by the sudden action before his eyes fluttered shut, completely forgetting that the two of you weren't alone.

"Whohoo! You go Y/N, I thought he'd never shut up." Johnny called out, causing John to pull away from you. He looked over at Johnny with a look that could kill, causing the Scot to quickly quiet his mouth.

"Alroght the lot of you, fuck off. We will reconvene later." He waived the guys off, as they walked out the door. "Not you, get over here."

You stopped in your tracks and turned to John. "Yes, sir?"

"I'd better be seeing you in my quarters later." He whispered in a husky tone as he got close to your ear. "Could use a little debriefing of my own."

"Wouldn't dream of being anywhere else, John."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading!!!🩷🩵

[space-invading-pigeon]

Steve came home from work one day pissed as hell. His coworker had made three of his little ones cry, the service dog that was supposed to visit the long-term patients was cancelled last minute, Dustin texted him to cancel their weekly phone call because he and Suzie were fighting, Hopper had to postpone his monthly check-in because El caught a stomach bug at school, and Mrs. Ryans stopped him in the lobby to tell him that she's praying his "no good devil worshipping roommate" received the damnation he supposedly deserves.

So Steve burst into his home, fuming, face flushed red in his anger, and startled poor Eddie out of his armchair. "I called Mrs. Ryans a stupid old hag and I'm not apologizing!" He announced, practically throwing his shoes into their proper place. "She's stupid and I hope she breaks her other hip."

Eddie started his usual task of making brownies (he's a firm believer that chocolate can make anything better, and he knows that Steve's got an almost pavlovian response to the smell of brownies now) while Steve changes out of his scrubs and into something more comfortable. He'd completely bypassed his own closet, instead stealing one of Eddie's prized Iron Maiden tees to go with his threadbare pajama bottoms. Eddie opened his mouth to ask what had happened that day to make Steve so upset, but Steve didn't let him.

"Seriously, why does she hate you so much? You're like the sweetest person ever. So I told her to stop talking shit about you, and she was like, 'why should I,' so I told her that my baby sister would slap the wig off her bald little head if she kept being shitty to my boyfriend, and I might have actually given her a heart attack. Should we go check on her?" Eddie froze at Steve's admission; first of all, a baby sister?? But, more pressing, boyfriend. "Oh, my god, I might have killed our elderly neighbor. El wouldn't actually slap her! Wait, yes she would. She's still learning social norms and I don't think Hop told her that hitting old people is frowned on. I don't- does Hop know not to hit old people? Eddie, my dad might abuse the elderly."

"Stevie, honey, slow down," he finally settled on. Eddie bypassed their little dining table to sit Steve on the couch. "One thing at a time. Mrs. Ryans is not dead, we'd have heard all the munchkins singing by now."

"I'm not going to prison for shocking our neighbor to death, Eddie, I'd rather be melted into a giant flesh monster," Steve piped up. Eddie didn't have time to unpack whatever that meant, so he ignored it.

"You're talking about your sister like she's not used to humans."

"She's not, really. She was ex- she was, um, bad home life. Before we met. She's Hopper's daughter now, but before, her dad fucked her up. Like, doomsday, raise the children in isolation, fucked up." Steve was marginally calmer, but his anger gave way to nerves as everything he'd said caught up with him. "I called you my boyfriend."

"Good to know you've got beauty and brains, sweetheart," Eddie cooed at him, smacking an exaggerated kiss to his cheek. "Not every day I have such a cute guy screaming at old ladies for me."

"J-just the one old lady. You're not mad I called you my boyfriend?" Eddie paused there, giving Steve the flattest stare he could manage.

"Steve. I've been flirting with you for two years. Bruce has been trying to get me to propose to you for one of those two years."

"Bruce just had a baby, he should worry about-"

"Bruce tried to explain to you that we're dating and you called him a funny guy, honey. Congrats, you're the last to know."

"We're dating?" Steve shrieked, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh. Steve's face was so incredulous, like he really had no idea, and as sad as it was to see that, it was just too funny to Eddie that they'd been dating in almost every sense for more than a year before Steve seemed to be aware of it. "Are you telling me I could have kissed you this whole time?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. Stevie, you really didn't know? I thought it was obvious how much I love you, sweetheart."

[kamaluhkhan]

BAD REPUTATION

PRIDE — part iii of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 275 summary: luke will do just about anything to keep his title as truth or dare champion. warnings: nothing other than young adult shenanigans (drinking, suggestive dialogue, impulsive decisions etc. etc.) author's note: i had this idea floating around in my brain this past week and it ended up being MUCH shorter than i expected?? anyways, the next part is probably going to be much longer and angstier (and smuttier) so.....hope u enjoy this in the meantime x

♪ "bad reputation" by joan jett & the blackhearts

when the game starts — after curfew, of course, with some contraband alcohol — stakes are relatively low. 

stealing a bottle of vintage wine from mr. d's cellar. choosing who to fuck, marry, or kill between hercules, achilles, and theseus. revealing that malcolm pace was the best kiss ever had.

"other than you," luke specifies when you mumble something about the son of athena stealing your thunder. he pulls you into his lap and wraps an arm around your waist for good measure.

a few truths and several dares later, is when things start to get interesting. 

"no way in tartarus am i doing that." 

"i think it's kinda romantic," silena swoons, batting her eyelashes.

clarisse groans. "lena, i don't care what it is, it's stupid to get a tattoo on a dare." 

"or, you're just too much of a coward to go through with it."

"ha! well, if you're such a daredevil, castellan, then why don't you do it? biting's more your couple style, anyways."

and that's how you find yourself in some dingy tattoo parlor, about to sink your teeth into your boyfriend's flesh, covered by a thin layer of plastic wrap (no infections here). your friends are all waiting outside the room, buzzing to see the results of this latest challenge, as the tattoo artist prepares their station.

"you sure about this, tiger?" 

"of course." luke smirks. "i've got a reputation to uphold."

the next day, luke, reigning champ of truth or dare, rolls up the sleeve of his camp half-blood tshirt, just to show off the bitemark on his bicep. your bitemark, engraved on his skin forever.

some campers whisper about how badass and sexy luke's new tattoo looks.

 you can't help but agree.

[teyamsatan]

High Infidelity II

Adult!Neteyam x (f)Metkayina!Reader x Aonung

Warnings: cheating, aonung being an absolute dick, cursing, 18+ minors dni

Word count: 5.6k words

Notes: besties, you ate this up and i love you for it. seems we all love neteyam mr steal-yo-girl, and i get it, i get it so much. enjoy x

previous part (x) next part (x)

Lock broken, slur spoken, wound open, game token I didn't know you were keeping count

Your picket fence is sharp as knives I was dancing around, dancing around it

“One day, you’re going to beg me to fuck you. And I’ll do it so well, you will never be able to get me out of your mind, never be able to touch yourself again without an image of my cock slipping in and out of you ingrained in your brain.” 

His words lingered in your mind as much as the aftershocks of the pleasure he took out of you lingered in and on your body. You were shaking, shaking with guilt and fear, at what you did, at what just happened, at thoughts of how you could possibly fix this, or hide this, but worst of all, at how much you wanted more. You needed more. You were shaking because it wasn’t enough. Reeling because, right now, even as fear and guilt pooled in you, they held no candle to the desire that settled deep within your soul, that seeped into every facet of your being, into every cell of your body. 

You wanted him. You needed him. You wondered briefly if there were any lengths you wouldn’t go to in order to feel this feeling again, to get him to do to you everything you knew he was capable of, everything you couldn’t even imagine, but wanted to find out. As you made your way back to your tent slowly, face flushed and weak knees, trying to adjust your disheveled figure and your wrinkled loincloth, you knew the answer was no. There were no lengths.

You were excited to be able to go to sleep tonight, excited to be able to leave your mind and soul to rest and weigh in the calamitous actions that have transpired in this fateful day, and felt anxiety fill you up as thoughts of the consequences of your actions started bearing down on you. What were you going to do? How would you ever be able to look Aonung or his family in the eye ever again? You were angry at him, so angry, so bitter and hurt at the way he has treated you for so long, at the way it felt like he almost pushed you into this scenario, pushed you to a point of breaking, a point you never thought you’d reach. You were a good girl. Kind, and happy and empathetic and understanding. That’s why you and Tsireya have always had such a strong bond - two girls with no ulterior motives, no underlying agenda, no mean spirit or facetious intentions. Just pure light, emanating and spreading around you to everyone you touched. You stood by Aonung his whole life, you allowed him to change and grow while he shrunk you into a shell of yourself, of who you were, who you could have been if he actually loved you enough, actually cared enough. 

Your tent was cold and desolate as you entered it, just like you felt. All alone. The longer Neteyam’s presence and his warmth and his words were removed from your own, the worse you felt, the worse the feelings pooling in the pit of your stomach, nagging at your mind and cursing you, admonishing you for your thoughtless actions and irredeemable mistakes.

“I fucked up again, didn’t I?”  

You jolted violently at the voice coming from deep within your tent, enveloped in a blanket of deep, unflinching darkness. You turned towards it, and as your eyes adapted slowly, you could make out Aonung’s body, and the tiny bioluminescent freckles glistening dimly and increasing in size as he moved closer to you.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the one person you didn’t want to see, the one person you couldn’t see without fumbling into a mess of broken heartedness and misery, stood in front of you, shoulders hunched and a forlorn look on his usually peppy and unencumbered face. 

“I can’t seem to be able to stop myself from hurting you, from making a mess of a good situation, a good person.”

You gulped silently at his words, trying to push the lump that formed in your throat, that didn’t allow you to speak or to acknowledge his presence, so you just watched him and waited. Waited, as he reached over and took your hand in his, his soft hands a striking difference to Neteyam’s calloused ones, and you cursed yourself for thinking of the Omatikaya boy even in this moment, when he should be pushed away from your thoughts, so far away he should be a dot on the horizon of your mind. His other hand found your cheek, that he was caressing carefully, softly, like you were a doll or a feather that would be blown away at the slightest push or breeze of the wind, which, in this moment, it felt like you were. 

“Please look at me. Please.” 

He willed your face upwards, putting pressure on your jaw as you refused to meet his gaze, and eventually you had no choice but to see his eyes, those beautiful sky blue eyes that you used to get lost in as a child, that used to shimmer and glow with childlike wonder when they looked at you, eyes that were now red and sad. You winced as you took them in, took him in, as the regret and sorrow almost rolled off of him and into you, amplifying your own pitiful emotions and your ever-growing self-loathing. 

“I’m so sorry. I know the words mean nothing coming from my mouth, I know that. I know that no words could ever make it up for the way I’ve been treating you all this time, and how much I have taken your love, your kindness, for granted. You know, you are the only one, the only person in my life that has always stood by me, that has seen me for more than I was, but who I could one day be. I’ve always felt like a failure. My whole life, I have lived in the shadow of my parents, who I have continuously let down by not being who they wanted me to be, who they thought I could be. I have lived my whole life knowing I was a disappointment to them, a stain on their immaculate track record, that was partially erased only by Tsireya’s presence, but was still there, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. But you, you’ve always seen me, you’ve always believed in me. I have loved you my whole life, but when they both ordered me, told me I had no other choice but to be your mate, that you were the only way I could redeem myself in their eyes, you became something else. A burden, another reminder of all the things I’ll never be, all the ways I’ll never be enough for my family. I blamed you for their shortcomings, and my own, and I am sorry.”

The tears were falling flawlessly down your face, like there was no other place for them to be than on your cheeks and on your chest, on his thumbs as he was brushing them away gently. 

“I’ll be better, I promise. You deserve better.” 

I don’t, you thought miserably. Not anymore. 

You barely got out of your tent in the next few days, dread filling you as the marui shook with every person who walked the common pathways that connected all the homes together, as you imagined it was Aonung or Neteyam, or Tsireya, or anyone else who you would have to look at and talk to and lie to. Your mate-to-be was busy, busier than usual with the Omatikaya, who were all getting better in time and as a result, needed more attention with more complicated matters, matters which took effort and patience, and you were glad. In a sick part of your soul, you hoped Aonung would have continued treating you like dirt, like he had for so long, as that would have diminished the guilt eating at you, guilt that now engulfed your every happy thought, every ray of light in you and replaced it with dark thoughts and heavy resentment for everyone involved. You tried so hard to stop thinking of Neteyam, of his hands and his lips and his words, and hated him for doing this, hated him for the effect he had on you, for turning you from an innocent soul into this, an adulterer, a liar, a mess of depraved thoughts and desires, pulsating through your body and settling in your core, that ached to be filled, that was dying to feel him, to be ruined by his touch, that was so powerful that it took everything in you, every ounce of focus and self-restraint to drown it, instead of letting it drown you. 

A few more days passed and you knew it was time to face the world, and face your fears. Your eyes settled on the new bracelet now adorning your arm, crafted by him with some of the most beautiful beads, pebbles and shells you have ever seen. An apology gift, he called it. As you thought about it, and about him, a revelation hit you, spreading its gleam all around you and bringing new breath in your lungs.

A new beginning. You both deserved a new beginning. You both deserved the chance to start over. You made mistakes. A big one in particular. But so did he. So many of them. You both screwed up, but you could move past. He wanted to, why shouldn’t you want to? He was your mate-to-be, he was your chosen one, your betrothed, your friend since childhood. You both deserved a second chance. You wanted to try. You had to try, you owed it to yourself and to him to try to give this a chance. 

And now was the best time to do it, as you knew from Tsireya that she was taking the Sullys to the Cove of the Ancestors today, which meant Aonung was most likely training with his father. 

“One day, you’re going to beg me to fuck you. And I’ll do it so well, you will never be able to get me out of your mind, never be able to touch yourself again without an image of my cock slipping in and out of you ingrained in your brain.” 

Neteyam was a mistake. A mistake you wouldn’t make again. You had to try. 

You had to try. 

As you suspected, Aonung was deep in training with his father, who looked up and smiled widely as his eyes fixated on your approaching form. You liked Chief Tonowari. He was kind and gentle, and he was excited about the prospect of you joining their family. You wondered briefly if he could ever understand, if he knew how much his excitement on the matter inadvertently caused you grief, and put strain in between you and his son and made the bond that much more difficult to deal with, the idea that much harder to swallow.

You greeted him, smiling in his direction and the smile faltered slightly as you and Aonung made eye-contact. He was still embarrassed about his actions, and still thought you were distant because you hadn’t forgiven him yet. You hadn’t, but your need for distance had dark undertones he could never even imagine, and you didn’t want him to. 

“Are you here to train with us?” The Olo’eyktan chuckled a little at his joke. You were no warrior and he knew that. You didn’t have the stomach for such things, preferring to keep to yourself and to help from the sidelines, the gift of the Tsahik running through your veins from a young age.

“Not quite, just here to see your son.” 

“If your parents don’t come back in time, you should join us for the celebration of the tulkun returning. We’d love to have you, and I’m sure my children would, too.”

“I’d love to. Thank you for the invitation.” 

Elation enveloped you as the horn that announced the return of the tulkun was blown, and you immediately left your tent and dove straight into the warm, clear-blue water and called for your trusty ilu, your good friend, hurrying towards your spirit sister, that you knew was waiting for you. It was a day of bliss, of celebration, of happiness in the clan, the most important day of the year, that marked the beginning of days of festivities and rituals, and you couldn’t wait. It was like the universe, like Eywa was giving you a chance, a clear sign that the tides were changing, and you could be changing with them, embracing the new and discarding the old. 

You heard her sooner than you saw her, her indistinguishable voice propelled through the water straight to your ears and through your body, filling you with relief and light. Her trills and stories allowed you to relax for the first time in so long, and you listened as she told you tales of her travels, of all the memories she’s made in the year you’ve been apart. When it was your turn, you did the same, stopping at the story you wanted most to tell, but knew you couldn’t, even to her. 

“There’s more that you want to say, isn’t there? I know you’re keeping something from me, something important, something life-altering.”

You winced and scowled in her direction, upset at how well she knew you, at how connected you were. You looked around you, trying to see if anyone would be paying attention to you, and noted all Metkayina were too busy with their own stories, their own reunions, for you to matter in the slightest. 

“I met someone. He makes me feel things I have never felt before. He makes me question my life, and everything in it. He treats me well, and says all the right things, but it’s wrong, it’s a mistake. He’s a mistake. I’m trying to fix it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.” 

“Sometimes, people come in our lives as mirrors to ourselves. Mirrors to our soul, allowing us to see the truth in who we are, the truth of what we want. To shine a light on the darkness within, on the deepest parts of us we would have never seen without them. Sometimes, that’s the only way for light to enter in places it would have never reached otherwise.”

You had no answer to that, and you hoped whichever mirror Neteyam held to your soul didn’t lead to so much darkness it would overtake you and the people you loved, the people you never wanted to hurt. 

The celebrations were as beautiful as they always were, surrounded by music and cheering, dancing and good food, love and friendship. You were happy if not a little nervous to spend this time with your soon-to-be in-laws, and that happiness quickly vanished as you realised you were to be joined by the Sullys. 

Aonung had a small smile on his face as he spotted you, and you tried your best to focus on him and not behind him, at the man staring at you with such intensity it was making you acutely aware of your own heartbeat, that now sounded painfully in your ears and against your eardrums. The whole world drowned around you, as it always seemed to when his presence was near yours, and Tsireya had to shake you, in order to bring attention to herself and back to the present, back to them. 

“Sister, are you alright?

“Yes, Tsireya. I am fine, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts.” 

She laughed a little at you, but then took your hand and guided you to the strangers who were eyeing curiously. 

“Sister, these are the Sullys. My dad invited them for the celebrations, as it is their first return of the tulkun. This is Jakesulli, the former Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and Toruk Makto, Neytiri, the former Tsakarem of the Omatikaya, and their children, Neteyam, Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk.” 

You tried your best to force a natural smile out. 

“It’s nice to meet you. I have heard a lot about you all, about some of you more than the others.” You eyed Tsireya playfully and your eyes briefly moved towards Lo’ak, who you knew Tsireya took a liking to. The entire family laughed at your joke, and at Tsireya and Lo’ak’s bashful and embarrassed looks. You felt a small twinge of jealousy for Tsireya, who was able to freely choose her mate, to freely love a Sully without contention or judgement, or pressure, and was obviously loved the same in return, as the Sully looked at her like the sun rose in her eyes. You didn’t know what that felt like, at least not until you met Neteyam, a man who you couldn’t have, a man who you couldn’t keep your thoughts from gravitating towards, a man who was eyeing you like he was undressing you with his gaze alone. You swallowed harshly, trying to contend with his presence and the wetness gathering in your beaded loincloth.

After dinner, the adults dismissed you, knowing deep down you all would much rather go and enjoy your time with the rest of the Metkayina youth, who knew how to celebrate, especially on nights like this. You were young adults now, and young adults got to go off on their own, and got to have their own kind of parties that the adults could no longer prohibit you from enjoying. That’s where you were headed. It was wild, and it was hot. It was everything you were afraid of growing up, and everything you craved now, more so by the day, it seemed. Mates and prospective mates were dancing sensually with each other, cups filled with alcohol made of the plants growing in the mangrove jungles deep within the island and spilling on and around them with each undulation of their bodies. You loved it, loved your traditions that were unique within the Na’vi people, that no other clan knew about or experienced quite the same way. You smiled as Tsireya handed you a cup and watched as Rot’xo poured some of the drink into everyone’s cup, and you all signalled an I See You to each other before taking a small sip, enjoying the way the warm liquid left burning traces as it made its way down your throat. 

You watched as the rest of the your companions did the same, and chuckled a little at the way Kiri and Lo’ak and Tsireya reacted to the drink, clearly their first time trying something like this. 

“That’s all you get, youngsters. I don’t want to have to drag any of you back home in a couple of hours and have to face the wrath of either Olo’eyktan.” You heard Aonung say, as he removed the jug from Rot’xo’s hands and kept it for himself. “Now go, enjoy yourselves. Show the forest people how we, Metkayina, do things.” 

There it was again, that mischievous glint in his eyes, and you pondered how will the alcohol affect your mate-to-be this time. It was always a surprise, ranging from kind and sweet and loving, to aloof and despondent, to angry and wanting to pick fights with whomever was unfortunate enough to be close by. He took your hand and pulled on it gently, willing you away, away from sight, away from the others. You followed him, unable to stop yourself form glancing behind you one last time, and wishing it was someone else doing it instead. When your eyes met Neteyam’s, you knew he felt the same, and you tried to remove the image of the hurt flashing across his face from your memory, knowing he wasn’t yours to care for, and you weren’t his to take away. 

You and Aonung sat down on the warm, golden sand that now glowed with bioluminescent plankton whenever the water hit it, and you felt your body relax at the calming, rhythmic sound of the waves that cleared your mind and soul of the anguish that seemed to constantly plague it recently. A constant tug of war lived within you, between what you wanted, what you needed, and what you felt was the right thing to do. You didn’t know which was going to win, but you knew it was a lose-lose situation regardless. You either lost your innocence, and the trust of the people you loved, or yourself. You didn’t know which was worse. 

The Metkayina young man poured more alcohol in your cup and you welcomed it, welcome the opportunity for your mind to quiet, no matter how that was accomplished. You felt the alcohol going to your head quickly, making a mess of your thoughts and lifting your spirits. You and Aonung stayed like this, talking comfortably, just like you used to do when you were younger, and you felt grateful for the memories, and grateful that the drunk Aonung you got was this, the nice and charming version of himself you have always loved, you have always hoped for. 

“Remember when we were fifteen and I convinced you to sneak out and go outside of the reef to Three Brothers Rocks? It took forever for me to talk you into it, but I think you were happy once we arrived and you found pebbles and shells you never could on the beach. I remember looking at you admiring them, telling me how beautiful they are, and all I could think of is how beautiful you were.” 

You smiled at his words, and how slurred they were the drunker he got, and giggled when he let out a small hiccup. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. You’re still so beautiful, even more beautiful. M-more beautiful… every day.” 

Your back was laying on his chest and a warm feeling cloaked you as you lowered your head on him and looked up at the stars. Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could forget about Neteyam and allow yourself to remember what it was like to love this man you’ve known all your life, the man you may not be in love with, but you could be one day, if he continued speaking to you the way he was, the way you’ve dreamt about all your life. 

He started peppering kisses down your throat, sucking on your soft skin and licking where you could feel he left marks. Heat pooled in between your legs as he did, and so did the hatred in your soul when the only face that came to mind was not the one currently on you, and you pulled yourself away from him, trying to put some distance in between your bodies and some thought back into your head. 

“Not now, Aonung. Please. We’re so close to the Iknimaya.”

“Exactly, we’re so close. Why wait anymore? I want you. I need you, I have for so long, I need to feel your body on me, around me. Nobody has to know.” 

“Except we will know. I will know. If I am to be part of your family, to be your mate, I want to do this right. You’re drunk, very drunk, and I’m getting there, and this isn’t the way to do it, not the way I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.” 

He scoffed and pulled you by your queue back on his chest and you yelped as the action sent pain through your entire body. 

“Can you just lighten up for once in your life? You have always been such a fucking killjoy. Do you think your friends aren’t fucking their mates to be? Do you think they’re all prudes like you, waiting and waiting until you’re good enough to pass your Iknimaya?”

The pain of his actions and his words overtook your entire existence, warped itself around you until there was nothing left of you but its echoes ringing in you and out of you, in the form of sobs and cries you wish you could drown in. 

“Let me go.” 

You got up and forcefully removed your queue from his grasp, trying to ignore how badly the pain combined with the alcohol was making your head spin, and started walking away. You didn’t get very far, as he ran in front of you and put his body in between you and your path, and you hissed loudly at him, the sadness blossoming into anger so powerful, you have never felt it before in your life. 

“I’m sorry, alright? That came out wrong. Just… let’s not let this ruin this beautiful evening. I feel like I’m just getting you back, you can’t leave me.” 

“Get away from me, Aonung.” 

You watched in your hazed state as Aonung’s body twirled like an underwater current, and you struggled to understand what was happening, until a deep voice filled your ears and your senses, the way it always did, the way it always will. 

“You heard what she said. Leave her alone.” 

Neteyam’s navy blue body was barely visible in the dark of night, but his eyes gleamed with fury and intensity and so did his freckles, and it was enough to know that he was furious, and he was ready to fight. 

Aonung could barely stand up straight, but laughed mockingly in Neteyam’s direction. 

“Oh, the tree hugger is coming to the rescue. She’s my mate, she doesn’t need saving from you. Isn’t that right, yawne? Tell him you’re fine, we’re just playing around.” 

As he reached his hand over to grab you, you flinched and put even more distance in between you, getting so close to Neteyam that you felt the warmth of his body on yours, making you feel safe again. 

“Come back here, you -“ 

One finger is all it took, one finger against Aonung’s chest for him to be pushed back to his place, back away from you. 

“Back off. Now.” 

Neteyam’s voice was menacing, and you knew Aonung felt it too, as a quick look of fear flashed in his eyes and he stayed put, unable or unwilling to push the Omatikaya, who you both knew would win this fight by a landslide. 

“Smart choice.” 

His warm hand found your lower back and you shivered at the contact. “Let’s go, I’ll take you home.” 

There were no words as you walked on the beach that was still beaming with life and laughter, no words that could ever describe the feelings you felt inside, each of them stronger than the other, all of them threatening to overtake you. You saw the village come into view and knew you couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear the thought of your tent where he could find you, where even if he didn’t, you would be all alone again. 

“I don’t want to go home. I want to go to the beach.” 

The tears were rolling down your cheeks mercilessly and Neteyam’s eyes softened as he nodded and motioned for you to lead the way. You were grateful for his presence and his silence, grateful for how he was barely touching you so as to not make you more uncomfortable or remind you of the man you left behind, grateful that he knew exactly what to do and what to say, grateful that he was everything Aonung wasn’t and nothing that he was. 

You were dizzy still as you arrived to your beach and dizzier still as you fell on your ass unceremoniously. The amber of Neteyam’s eyes reminded you of the liquid the brought you here, that made you this way, and you knew you couldn’t look into them for too long without feeling nauseated. 

He sat besides you, but left space in between you, which you appreciated. 

“I’m sorry this happened. Are you alright?” 

You laughed bitterly, unable to help yourself. 

“Am I alright? Well, let’s see. I have been treated like dirt for years by the guy I thought I loved and that I am meant to give myself to forever, then I met a guy that makes my entire body convulse the second he comes close to me, I allow him to do things to me only my mate should ever be able to do, and I love it, and I can only think about more, about his words and the way I only feel the way I feel when I’m with him…” you took a deep breath and sighed, allowing every dark thought and secret, everything you’ve kept shackled within you come to light. 

“Then the first guy comes and apologises, and says all the right words, which makes me feel even worse, makes me hate myself and hate everything around me, hate that I’ve allowed two men to drive me to this point, but still, I think that I should try. I should try to do this, be the good girl I’ve always been, keep my promise and my word to him and his family, to the clan. And then this happens.” 

“So no. I am not alright. I’m so far from alright, alright isn’t even on the same planet as me.” 

“I am sorry. I’m sorry I made your life harder than it needed to be. But I want you, I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid my eyes on you. I’ve watched you in the clan. You’re always kind, and helpful. You always have a smile on your face, a real, authentic smile. You’re a good person, and you deserve better. I did what I did because I want you to be mine. I thought you should know there are options out there. That you don’t need to confine yourself to someone just because you feel like you have to, that it’s expected of you. I know all about the pressures of expectations, and while I'm forced to shoulder them, I don’t want you to have to.” 

Your breath caught in your throat and there was nothing to say in regards to the power with which this man controlled every fibre of your being, the pull that his voice and his words had on you. He so quickly managed to become the sun your soul orbited around. You felt your body slowly inching closer to his, even as whatever little conscious mind you still had available was screaming for you to stop, that this was wrong and two wrongs don’t make a right. It took everything out of you, but you eventually listened. 

“I need to go. I wanted to come here, I wanted you to take me here, but I can’t be around you. Not anymore. Aonung is an asshole, and I will deal with him tomorrow, but what we did was wrong. What I did was wrong. I should have broken up with him, I should have told him that it’s over, that he’s treated me wrong one too many times. But I didn’t. And regardless what he’s done, I’m no better, not if I do this again. Once is a mistake, twice is a choice. I’m going home.” 

Neteyam sighed and you saw there was hurt in his eyes, on his face. He didn’t say anything to you as you left him and whatever it was you had behind. 

You needed to clear your head, clear the hurt and drunk thoughts swirling in your mind. You knew of a secluded spot to which Aonung used to take you when you were younger, that you thought would be perfect to wash this night away from your body and hopefully forget it ever happened. You pushed through the tall greenery surrounding you in order to reach it and stopped in your tracks when sounds of panted breaths and mixed moans filled your ears. 

“Aonung, fuck. Right there!” 

“You feel so good, baby. So good.” 

You ran as fast as your feet could carry you, praying and hoping they didn’t hear you, and when you knew you were far enough, you stopped and curled your body forwards as you threw up on the ground in front of you, groaning as the alcohol tasted much worse on your tongue coming out than it did going in. You were having trouble breathing as this night, that was horrible to begin with, was now bordering on unbearable, as the lewd sounds floated in every corner of your mind, powering the next round of sickness that felt like it was being expelled from deeper within you than just your stomach, from the unsightly parts of your soul. 

He was fucking another girl. You told him no, you told him you wanted to wait, and so he fucked another girl. Was this the first girl? The only girl? The first time? The only time? 

So many questions, so few answers, so little time to think, so much grief to swallow. So much anger, and vindication, so much thirst for revenge, a thirst that you’ve never felt before, that consumed you until there was nothing left but it. You spent so much time feeling horrible about yourself, about what you did. And you didn’t even do the thing you wanted to do, the thing you were desperate to do. But now, there was no hesitation in you anymore as you ran towards the beach that you hoped Neteyam was still on, relief so powerful a drug it cleared your senses and focused them on the man you wanted, that you had to turn away, that you now got to have, that you hoped would claim you, would show you everything Aonung never could. 

He was there. Of course he was. His back was to you, to the forest, and he was looking at the beach, looking at how the waves crashed into the sand, and you couldn’t help take a second to admire him, admire his beauty and poise, admire his strength and character, admire the way he was everything you weren’t, everything you wished you could be. You wanted him to show you, and to teach you, you wanted him to help you see there’s more to this world than what you’ve known, there’s more to this life than what you’ve been confined to feel. And you knew he could, you knew he would. All you had to do was ask. 

“Neteyam. I’m here to beg you to fuck me.” 

three parts it is, besties x

taglist (thank you ily xoxo) : @strawberryclouds22 @yeosxxx @bewbz2110 @loaksbaby @taleiak @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @littlexscarletxwitch

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧!。◟[kinktober 2023] ɪɴᴛᴏ ɪᴛ — PGR & GI x reader [week 1]

I'm getting way too deep, I'm fucking into it

a.n. - I'm busy with midterms buT YOLO IM WRITING LMAO I just can't miss this event. I mean it's probably still October 7 somewhere hehe. updates on this might be jumpy, I am not sure if I am available all the time. TANKS and enjoy enjoy~

pairings - strike hawk [Chrome, Wanshi, Kamui, Camu]+ liyue [Zhongli, Baizhu] & sumeru [Tighnari] men x fem!reader (separate!)

word count(s) - mostly 400-1,000 words heuheue

kinktober masterlist

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW THEMES: desk sex, asphyxia (reader is wearing a collar), threesome (mmf), somnophilia, bondage, oral sex (cunnilingus), aphrodisiac, anal. Some sprinkles of degradation. Use of pet names (darling, little girl, good girl, dearest, dear) and degradation (slut). reader is implied virgin (zhongli, baizhu). sometimes bratty (tighnari). some dubcon (baizhu).

special mention: banner credits to @/rookthorneartistry, @/cafekitsune

! — Chrome: Glory [ desk sex ]

“Fuck,” the creak of the office desk is the response, a muffled whine spewing out of your lips, “you feel so good, Commandant.”

Messy but so goddamn good — a few words to describe your situation right now: paperwork, probably important, are under you but you couldn't care less, not when your beloved's cock is busy splitting your poor little pussy. His gloved hand is on your drooling mouth, desperate not to let any lewd noises be heard from the outside. Your legs are trembling, from the pressure and force Chrome had been putting since minutes ago, lazily hung on his shoulders. You can feel yourself gushing now, a frothy white crowning at the base, dripping onto the expensive wood, but when your hips flush against the captain's, you forget everything but Chrome and his name.

“Mmph-” you called out, tears escaping your eyes, “y-you feel so good, Ch-Chrome, more please, please.”

Quiet is a funny word, especially — especially — when the revered Strike Hawk captain Chrome is busy railing you on the desk of Mr. Smith.

How did this happen? You can't remember now. All you can remember is being invited to the Smit's estate, sitting prettily for Chrome as he does his father's paperwork, but now -

Chrome leaned down close to your shoulders, teeth grazing your clavicle. As the relentless pace in your pussy is hard, you felt his gloved hand rub your neglected clit, jolting you from the surge of pleasure, a louder moan from your lips. Chrome bites down on your neck, a strangled sigh escaped his own mouth.

“So naughty,” he whispered, gently licking the bite mark, “I told you to keep quiet. Do you want the maids to know that the Gray Raven Commandant is under me?”

That didn't help, blinding pleasure already fogging your brain. You can't help it, not when his cock is hitting all the right spots, his fingers rubbing slowly on your clit, your orgasm teetering dangerously close now.

“I wonder; what would be Father's reaction, hm? When his beloved son is fucking a human commandant on his own work table? While everyone is outside of this room?”

“C-Chrome-!” You cried out, and he groaned. “M-Mr. Smith will-”

“-Fuck, you're squeezing me so good.” Eyes closed, he leaned up until your foreheads touched. Stealing a quick kiss on your lips, a small smile graces Chrome's lips. “That's my commandant; I'll let you cum soon. Just...let me fuck you like this more.”

! — Kamui: Tenebrion & Camu: Crocotta [ asphyxiation + threesome ]

The collar was tight, but it felt good on your neck. No, it felt great — the pressure on your neck as dark gloves tugged on the chain, and Camu's hips harshly thrusted on your pussy.

“Hah, what a slut you are.” Camu groaned, feeling your pussy flutter around his big dick, “should've known that you like being treated like a dog, a fucking dog in heat, too.”

What an innocent tease you were, somehow turned into a dog. You moan at Camu's words, desperately grinding on his hips. Your legs shake, and your hands try to balance yourself on top of him, fingers holding onto his shoulders.

“C-Camu,” you slurred, “y-your d-dick feels so good.”

“I hope you haven't forgotten your safe word, darling,” feeling foreign hands cup your breasts, you whined at the cold pressure there.

“Fuck off, Kamui,” Camu growled, tugging on your chain (making you moan again), “I'm busy with her right now.”

“You should share her with me, Camu,” Sheepishly grinning, his fingers languidly playing with your perky nipples, his voice drops, “besides, it's not like she has one hole.”

“Isn't that right, commandant?” Kamui whispered, tongue licking below your ear, causing you to shiver.

You want to say a word, but you already felt something hard nudging at the entrance of your ass. Unconsciously complying with the man behind you, you leaned forward and closer to Camu's chest. When you felt Kamui's dick penetrate your asshole, a handful of wanton babbles left your lips, saliva dripping and onto Camu.

“Atta girl,” Kamui coons, before slapping your ass, “such a good girl.”

You felt so fucking full now — Kamui and Camu's cocks somehow filling you up to the brim, even more than you've ever felt your whole mortal life. You babbled their names now, hips grinding to wherever to chase your high.

“Kamui, Camu...please...fuck me more...”

“She's mine.” Camu scowled, “she's my fucktoy. Look how cockdrunk she is now.”

Kamui smiled, despite feeling the tightness of your ass, graciously taking the chain from Camu. Harshly, he tugged on your chain, your body weakly thrown onto his chest.

“Let's see whose name she'll be screaming after this.”

! — Wanshi: Hypnos [ somnophilia ]

There's something about sneaking into the commandant's room at night that interests him.

By him, it's Wanshi. Although you've both established that he's allowed to enter your room whenever he wants, especially now that you're sick (“I'm sick,” you told him once during your patrols, a sweet pout on your lips as you sniffled, “you should come and visit my room.”), it almost felt like a sin at this point.

He's by the edge of your bed, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. His pride may hate to admit it, but the way you're situated on the bed— sprawled out, breasts nearly spilling out of your tank top, legs wrapped tightly around a pillow — he can't help but think about something sinful.

What would your face look like under him? When are his hands playing with your breasts? Would your legs wrap around him like that when he's railing you?

The next thing he knew, he's sitting dangerously close to you. His pants feel awfully tight even. In the dark, he sees the outline of your chest better, the dip of your hips, and the sinful thoughts of somehow corrupting you are brighter than ever.

Slowly, Wanshi touched your breasts. Seeing as your nipples started to poke out, he gently massaged everywhere but there. You'd sometimes stir in your sleep, soft sounds from your lips, but Wanshi lives off the thrill;

Who knew you'd look so pretty with your guard down while he's touching you like this? Vulnerable. Sensitive. Pliant. Beautiful.

It doesn't take long before he ventures down to your nether regions. Constructs have heightened sense; Wanshi is no exception, and he could practically smell your arousal.

Dragging your shorts down, he unconsciously grinds his hard dick on the bed, as he sees some of your essence stick to your underwear. Prying your legs open, he felt like Pavlov's dog — your pussy dripping making him drool. Christmas might've come early now; without hesitation, he dips down to lick a long stripe over your slit. You stirred once more, a soft moan escaping your lips. He's relentless— kitten licks to your wet pussy, sucking on your bud. It could be driving you mad, but it's definitely making him hornier. Forget Christmas, he's the one coming soon.

Quickly unzipping his pants, he thrusted his hard cock swiftly into your aching hole. Both of you heaved a low moan, with Wanshi believing you must have woken up. But other than the tremble of your pussy, you were still sound asleep. Wanshi could feel his dick throb — this was too perfect.

He ruts his hips onto your sleeping figure, grabbing whatever skin he could reach. He could drown in this moment and regret nothing; as long as he felt your tight walls clamp on him like a vice, your face still contorting in pleasure even as you sleep through him fucking you.

Fucking into you greedily, somewhere in between, he heard you call out his name with a confused and doe-eyed look on your face. “Wanshi?”

It's too late to back down. Looking into your eyes as he grunted, a few seconds away from painting your walls white, “Good morning, Commandant. I'm just about to give you your medicine.”

! — Zhongli: Vago Mundo [ bondage + sensory deprivation ]

“Little girl,” your master coos, “You've been nothing but kind to me.”

With a butterfly kiss on your shoulder, Zhongli ties the last rope on your wrists above your head. You look at him, your master, blindingly trusting him as he steps back.

You are naked in front of him; tied wrist above your head, legs tied to the bedpost. Although shy, your willingness to please your master overtakes such behavior. Zhongli's smile never left his face. His fingers touched your chin, tipping it to meet his face.

“Mhm,” you curtly nodded, “my master takes care of me well. He's the one who is kind to me.”

“Say nothing more,” golden eyes glowed as a stray hand caressed your stomach, “After tonight, you will be mine forevermore.”

His voice only makes your tummy flutter a thousand butterflies. From his suit, he pulls out a red handkerchief, “what is your safe word again, little girl?”

“Red,” you inhaled sharply, as he started to cover your eyes with the handkerchief, “Master, will it...hurt?”

“Worry not, little one.” He kisses the shell of your ear once he's done tying the knot at the back of your head, “I will be sure to be gentle with you. If it gets overwhelming, use the safe word. Understood?”

Although blind, your trust in the man is incomparable. “Understood, master.”

“Good girl,” your mind tries to comprehend as lithe fingers start to trace from your shoulders to the dip of your chest, “let me see how much of a good girl you are for me.”

Tingles of fire in the wake of his touch. Your mind doesn't cooperate now, even as you feel his hand put a light pressure on your thighs.

“Pretty,” your master comments, inhaling your scent, “what a pliant little girl you are.”

You feel it, a long, slender finger brushing that part of you that you've never touched before. You gasped from his touch, yet unable to close your legs from the ropes he tied on you. “I-I'm sorry for being loud, master...”

“I would much rather have you be loud than be silent, dearest,” Zhongli's voice is a sultry comfort, loudly close enough that you felt the vibrations close to your throbbing pussy, “mm, archons, you are already drenched.”

“I-Is it bad, master?”

“No.” He said nothing more, only his fingers dipping experimentally and drawing slow, slow circles down there, “This is perfect.”

A surprised whine poured out of your lips, as you felt his finger slip inside your wet hole, fast and already filling the gap in between you. “M-Master Zhongli-!”

“Yes, dear, fuck,” it's the first time you've heard your master swear, that it made you throb down there, “mm, did that turn you on?”

“I-I-”

“Does your master being vulgar to his little girl turn you on?” You cried out as he started to thrust his slender fingers, “seems like you do.”

The flat of his palm rests and rubs on your clit, your tummy feeling so warm and shaking. “M-Master, i-it feels so...good...but why do I feel like s-something is coming out...!”

“That's alright, little girl,” his fingers assaulting your little pussy starts to be more ruthless, a finger slipping inside, “it means you're doing a good- fuck - job for me.”

A waterfall of moans escapes your lips, tears prickling your blindfolded eyes. “M-Master Zhongli...!”

When his fingers curved inside of you, they hit a particular soft spot that somehow made you see stars in the midst of your blindness. With a loud cry of his name, you crumbled in his fingers, something liquid squirting out of you. Zhongli fucks you through your first orgasm of the night, your squirt coating his drenched fingers, coaxing whatever you had left.

Heavy sighs and breathing filled the room. Your shaking figure, in the dimly lit room, and Zhongli thinks you're the prettiest he's ever seen in his entire lifetime.

“M-Master,”

“Good girl,” he coos, bringing his coated fingers to his mouth to taste your sweet essence, “I think you can take one more, hm?”

! — Baizhu: Beyond Mortality [ oral sex: cunnilingus ]

“Please open your legs,” said the timid doctor of Bubu Pharmacy, “I need to check what the problem is.”

Under the careful gaze of Baizhu, you shyly parted your legs. You were sitting on the patient bed of the back room of the pharmacy. You forgot to wear your underwear, seemingly noticeable as you were in a rush to your appointment with the doctor. Expecting a female doctor to attend to your needs, you were in for a surprise as the famed doctor himself was the one facing you instead.

His snake-like amber eyes carefully eyed your exposed cunt. It made you want to cover them, but his strong grip made you open your legs wider.

“Is...” you gulped, looking away as you felt his intense stare down there, “...is there a problem?”

“Hm,” it seems hard to decipher the emotions on his face. “It's quite complicated.”

Trying to take the awkwardness away, you coughed. Looking around, you somehow noticed the empty space on his shoulders, unaccustomed to the snake that always accompanied the doctor.

“Doctor Baizhu,” you spoke, voice cracking, “where is the little snake on your neck?”

“Ah, Changshang is not around yet.” He flashed a sweet smile to you, slightly calming your anxiety, “I let her sleep in for now. Worry not, fortunately your symptoms are fairly easy to fix.”

“Really?” You sighed in relief, somehow the mental counting of your expected expenses lessening, “can I ask what's it about?”

“However, I'd still like to be sure so I can give a proper diagnosis. May I...touch you?”

You nodded easily. Fairly easily, it's almost as if you were expecting so. Noticing your behavior, you shook your head and nodded slowly again. “I- um, of course, Doctor Baizhu.”

He dipped two of his fingers into a container close to him, a sticky, slime-like fluid coating his fingers. You stared at his ministration, almost as if in a trance: the way he lifted his hands, the two fingers mimicking a scissors. Slowly, they descended down to your core, and your heart skipped a beat as they lightly pressed onto your outside labia. Quickly taking your hand to suppress a sound, a muffled squeak instead made Baizhu laugh.

“My, that's cute. You don't need to hide your noises from me, dear,” he spoke softly, if he was aware that the two fingers rubbing your outside labia started, “Now, tell me: what happened and when did this happen?”

He seemed to know what he was doing. Trying to take off the distraction from down there, you try to recount what happened to you.

“Um...I was just walking around the harbor, I- uh, I saw a bunch of flowers...and ah, hah...I saw...”

The more you spoke, the more Baizhu's fingers were rubbing circles on your cunt. You try to close your legs, but Baizhu's grip was too strong.

“Dear, you were in the middle of talking,” his amber eyes were somehow entrancing you, that you never noticed you were lowering your hands to hold onto the hem of your skirt. “Please do not mind me; continue.”

“U-um...I saw,” looking away, you murmured, “you, Doctor Baizhu...”

“Mmm, and then?”

“I-I don't k-know...I started to feel all these, hah, things...l-like d-down there, I feel like I'm peeing...ah-”

You were cut off as you felt Baizhu's fingers graze your clit, a jolt of something good running through your body. A confused moan came out of your lips, embarrassment in the form of red cheeks evident as you noticed Baizhu smiling at you.

“I-I'm so sorry, Doctor! I didn't-”

“Please, darling,” he assured you with his free hand, the one on your cunt tapping happily on your nub, “don't apologize. Do not hide your voice from me, and don't feel embarrassed as well. This is just one of the ways that can help with the alleviation of your illness.”

His hand withdrew from you (a sense of disappointment scoured down there), “I think I know what this is. I have the medicine that you need. Would you like for me to administer it now?”

“Y-Yes!” You nodded, “please fix me...”

“I will. Now, will you please go on all fours?”

You followed his orders; awkward as it was, but Baizhu grabs your hips, pulling it closer to him, his hand pushing you gently onto the pillows.

“That's it, good girl.” You don't like, that praise somehow made your pussy throb, “I have an apparatus that can clean up your pussy. This may be overwhelming at first, but rest assured, you will feel better.”

You couldn't see what was happening, but you felt something long and sleek slip in between your puffy folds, causing you to moan out loud and grip the sheets. Not long after, something wet graces your sensitive nub, sucking it mercilessly.

Your jaw falls open, blinding pleasure wrecking your body into uncontrollable shaking. You could have lost yourself in it if it weren't for the grip Baizhu hand on your hips, probably enough to bruise you. But you didn't care; all you could feel was the delicious friction of something added more onto your gaping hole and your throbbing clit. Alas, it curved deep into you, a sensation that was foreign in your own innocent body.

“B-Baizhu!” you cried out, feeling something unravel on your stomach, “w-what-”

However, his answers fall deaf to your ears. You came all over the “apparatus”. Tears fall endlessly on your face, as you feel the apparatus diligently suck on your quivering hole, seemingly eager to clean it up. It felt like a long time before the shaking in your bones subsided, somehow overwhelmed with what happened earlier.

Gently guiding your hips to the bed, you heave long inhales, the world spinning from your vision.

“...ear? Dear? Are you alright?” Baizhu's voice brings you back to reality. Your eyes flutter open, still recounting the surge from earlier.

“D...doctor Baizhu?”

“Ah, I'm sorry. Are you alright?”

“Y-yes...” A dull pain paired with something leaking out from your pussy and into the sheets momentarily caused you to panic, but the assurance on Baizhu's face says otherwise. “I- is my treatment done...?”

“Yes, do not worry. You will start feeling better in no time. If you feel like that again, please do not hesitate to approach me so we can fix you up again.”

“A-alright, thank you so much, Doctor Baizhu...” You stood on wobbly legs, only to realize something on your stomach, “Although, what is this...?”

“Oh, that.” Baizhu wipes away the wetness on his chin, before looking at you with glinting amber eyes, “It's a medicine. It helps me know that you need help. If it glows, it's best you come here so I can fix you up.”

! — Tighnari: Verdant Strider [ aphrodisiacs ]

You never should have gone out on patrol.

Despite being a careful Forest Ranger, with years of experience carrying that title, you still get to be a victim of unfortunate circumstances. Sometimes, you trip over the spinocrocodiles on the lakes, or trip over large vines, or sometimes encounter a handful of Witherings all by yourself. It's all because of you and your poor excuse of mortal vision. Sometimes, you wished you were like Tighnari and his keen sense of smell and sight. But alas, you were human and not some hybrid.

But anyways, back to the problem at hand — or hands, because your body feels hot and aching all over, with the intense need to strip off and touch your now-wet pussy. Groaning and moaning as you crawled to the nearest hut, you desperately wished for some miracle to actually help you in this (unfortunate) situation.

But perhaps some archon took pity on you — the door of the hut opened even before you could knock. Plagued with an intense need, you try not to strip yourself now. The blinding yellow light caused your sight to disappear, before the outline of a familiar, pretty face and headwear shaped like a fox — wait.

“T-Tighna-”

“Y/N?” He called out, his usual hands devoid of gloves covering his nose, “I smelled you. What happened?”

You paid no mind to his use of words. Right now, his voice and himself were driving you to the point of madness. “Help,” you cried out, “I'm sorry.”

Quickly, he ushers you inside of his abode, locking it for good measure. You stumbled onto the floor, clumsily stripping out of your uniform and leaving you bare in your undershirt. You heard Tighnari call out your name, but you were too busy rolling on the rug.

“S-stop that,” he said, “what happened to you?”

“Ugh, hah, Tighnari...I feel hot all over...”

“Did you stumble on some poisonous plant?”

“No...” you slurred, a little bit of your rationality holding on to stop you from stripping off your pants, “I smelled some flowers...while on patrol...I didn't see...that they were aphrodisiacs...”

Attempting to open your eyes, you find worried verdant greens staring back at you. You've always liked Tighnari, but right now, the horny in your brain makes you want to strip him clean and make him cum-

“Help,” you cried out once more, “touch me, Tighnari, please.”

“I-”

The last of your rationality snaps. Pulling down your pants, along with your panties, you stare at the man as you start to rub your oversensitive cunt. You never broke your glance at him, even as you easily cum from your own touch.

“Tighnari, Tighnari,” you moaned his name, “need you now, want you to stuff me full of your dick, want to have you cum lots on me, please.”

Tighnari doesn't look away. Instead, he is entranced with the way your fingers dipped in and out of your drenched pussy. You see his tail puff out and somehow you remember - it's a telltale sign that he's eager.

“Mmfuck,” Tighnari cursed, trying to look away. But you were far too horny to react; raising your legs and opening them for him, you greedily chased your high as you abused your pussy.

“T-Tighnari,” you cried out his name as you orgasmed for the second time, “need you inside...”

“Don't regret this.” His vibrant green eyes turned dark in the light, lust clouding his vision as he stripped off his pants. It's so fucking hot, you admit, when he's like you, the last rationality stripping away.

Well, fucking your boss doesn't seem that bad, right?

Tighnari slipped in his hardened cock inside of you easily. You moaned out his name, feeling full as you felt his dick poke the deepest part of you. Roughly grabbing your hips, he easily manhandled you to the wall, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist.

“You just inhaled some aphrodisiacs and now you're acting like a slut.” He growled, speaking through gritted teeth. His thrusts on your pussy are driving you mad, that you unconsciously came over once more. “You probably inhaled that just so you can find an excuse to fuck me, isn't it?”

Euphoria and pleasure intertwine in your foggy mind, nails scratching his back. You whined as his dick hits that one specific spot, another orgasm clawing down there.

“What if I d-did, ah,” you bit back, but Tighnari saw through your play, mercilessly drilling onto that spot, “Ti-Tighnari-”

“No wonder you've been looking all doe-like to me. Should have known that you weren't so innocent, that you are just a slut wanting to be fucked by her own boss.”

You came from his words once more, pussy violently spasming over his cock. Tighnari seemed to follow after, feeling the rush of his seed coating your inside. Suddenly, you feel something else poking inside of you, before effortlessly slipping into you, aided by the mixture of your arousal.

“H-huh-”

“There's still aphrodisiacs in your system, no?” Tighnari ruts into you, a whine escaping your lips, “You triggered my rut, thanks to your influence. Now you'll have to suffer with me until it's over.”

please like, reblog, comment if you likey! please don't copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission!

-ˋˏ starryficsfinishwen ˎˊ

[calypsocolada]

PERCEPTIVE | o. dazai

synopsis: you don't smile around dazai and he's been wondering why. authors note: no notes just dazai. cw: suggestive, making out, flirting, fem reader, c*ckblock kunikida (plot device because i suck writing smut lol) wc: 3k

--------------------------------------------------------

Dazai liked causing mischief. He liked keeping people on their toes, and liked annoying his coworkers. You were no exception. When you were hired on as his new assistant the first thing he noticed about you was how you persevered through all his antics. 

He’d accidentally spill coffee on important documents but somehow you had copies. He’d be running late to work and expect a verbal lashing from Kunikida but when he’d get there Kunikida would be happily content and unaware of his absence. 

You were smarter than you let on. 

So Dazai started to test you. 

He’d write bad reports and make a mess of his desk and come back an hour later to find everything in tip top shape and the reports written so impeccably that even Kunikida would be impressed. After a few days of this he saw bags under your eyes and knew it was because he was stressing you out. He stopped the tests right then because you seemed like the type to suffer in silence. He felt that was on par with him. 

So from then on Dazai started to try and make things easier on you. He’d write good enough reports, keep his desk clean and often buy you lunch. He was searching for one thing in return. 

A smile. 

You smiled at everybody else and no matter the jokes or things he did for you you were always just very professional. It drove Dazai mad. He didn’t know why he wanted to make you smile so bad. Or why he wanted to hear your laugh. Let alone why he bought you lunch everyday and started trying harder at his job. These questions started popping up in his brain more often now. He’d sit at his desk and steal glances at yours. You were very elegant, that was another thing he noticed. Your handwriting was perfect, the way you ate, no matter what it was you found a neat way to eat it. Your voice was soft and you read at your desk on slow days. Dazai started writing down books that you read so that he could read them and see if he could find some part of you hidden between the lines. 

All of this was driving him crazy. 

The last straw broke when he saw you talking to Kunikida one day in the breakroom. You were at the table with him, legs crossed, hair in a loose braid. You were smiling and laughing. At Kunikida. Dazai couldn’t comprehend what could be so funny. Let alone Kunikida saying something that could make you laugh like that. 

That was the moment it hit him. Like a ton of bricks, sitting at his desk staring across the room at you. It all fell into place like leaves on a fall day. Dazai never thought it could happen, let alone to himself. He loved you. He was sick to his stomach, a love bug infecting his entire person. He’d never felt more stupid in his life. If he saw anyone else acting this way he could figure it out in seconds but since it was happening to him he had just shrugged it off. But he couldn’t do that anymore because he felt physically ill watching Kunikida make you laugh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to be happy but goddamnit he wanted to be that cause of happiness sometimes for you. 

Dazai let his head fall into his hand, sighing and groaning obnoxiously loud. He literally had a book you were reading last week on his desk, how could he have been so blind? 

“Mr. Dazai?” A pleasant voice broke through his melancholia. He slowly raised his head to see you, standing by his desk. Your braid was tucked behind your back, loose strands of hair falling in your face. For some reason his throat closed up. All this thinking had stuttered his ability to speak to you now because now he knew. He knew what you meant to him. 

“Hm?” Was all he could muster and he felt pathetic for it.

“Would you like a coffee?” You asked and he knew it was because you had caught him looking fraught. You were so perceptive. Dazai cleared his throat.

“I would,” He says pushing up from his chair, you look at him in confusion. 

“Tagging along?” You ask and he nods his head. You lead the way and Dazai can’t help but feel like an idiot. He finally had you alone and he was walking two steps behind you unable to speak. A part of him wished he never figured it out. You slowed your pace so that you two were walking side by side. “Something on your mind, Mr. Dazai?” You asked, tilting your head to catch his eyes. It works and you have him blushing. 

“Uh- nono, nothing’s-- just uh- enjoying the weather.” He says, making a show of looking at the sky. You slowly nod your head, obviously unconvinced.

“Uh huh, it’s getting chilly, do you like the fall?” You ask as Dazai clears his throat, pursing his lips. He was being so utterly uncool around you it was making him annoyed. 

“It’s preferable to summer, do you like the fall?” 

“Yes.” You answer simply. Dazai looks over at you, watches your eyes dance along a tree, the leaves changing with the season. He admires you as you admire the world. You’re so pretty, so interesting he wonders if someone has already noticed that about you, wonders if you already have someone that cares and that you love. It twists his stomach thoroughly. “Mr. Dazai?” God he wanted you to call him Osamu, he wondered how it would sound on your lips.

“Uh yes?” He stutters when he remembers you addressed him. 

“Read much?” You ask, there's a slight amusement to your voice that he picks up on immediately. His eyes devour your facial expressions. You were teasing him, which meant you had seen the book on his desk, even when he tried to hide it discreetly under a stack of papers. 

“Apparently.” He answers as you turn to face him. 

“That’s the third book you’ve read of mine, are you trying to tell me something?” You ask, your lips curving into something close to a smile. He wanted more.

“Just trying to figure you out.” He answers, a slight breeze picking up at his words. 

“Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Figured me out.” You answer, turning to look straight ahead as the sidewalk gets a bit busier. Dazai pushes through to keep close to you. 

“You read stories of tragic love. This last one nearly brought a tear to my eyes. Though from what I’ve observed it barely affects you.”

“It’s just a story.” You answer, holding the door to the cafe open for him.

“You don’t get attached to the characters?” He asks as you two stand shoulder to shoulder in a very long line. 

“I do. I just can’t cry at work, that might freak some people out.” You say wryly. Dazai chuckles warmly. 

“Might I suggest your next read?” He asks as you turn your head to meet his eyes. 

“Okay.”

“Maybe something romantic, with less tragedy.”

“I like the dramatics.” You answer with a scuff of a laugh. 

“You’re very serious.” Dazai says, watching you raise your brows. 

“Yes, is that okay?”

“More than. I need that balance.”

“Oh do you know?” You ask, there’s something in your voice, something in the way you spoke that has Dazai pausing. Unluckily for him your two are next, you put in the order and he follows you to the other side of the counter to wait for your drinks. He watched as you tucked some loose hair behind your ear and smiled gently at the barista as they handed you the drinks. So a barista could get a smile but Dazai couldn’t? You handed him his drink, his fingers brushing yours in the exchange and that’s when he saw it. Just barely after the touch your cheeks pinkened and you slyly looked away from him as you took a sip of your drink. The little moment was so quick that he thought he might’ve dreamt it. You led the way back outside and held the door for him. This time he purposefully brushed against you and this time your cheeks reddened. Dazai hid his smirk behind his cup as he started walking.

“You have a very pretty smile, you know?” He asks, carefully watching how you reacted. It took you a moment to speak. 

“I don’t think so.” You answered simply, seemingly cool but Dazai had sniffed a trail and he was going to follow it.

“You don’t?”

“It envelopes my face too much.”

“It’s perfect, it makes your face light up, but how would I know since you never smile around me…” He trails off teasingly. He doesn’t miss the quick glance you give him. As if realizing he noticed something you were keeping hidden.

“Your a menace, Mr. Dazai. What’s to smile about?”

“Call me Osamu.” Your midship as he says it, his voice all saccharine honey. You choke slightly, coughing. “Oh dear, slow sips.”

“Hush. It.” You cough out, clearing your throat. Dazai laughs wholeheartedly. Your eyes find his face, he’s so pretty when he laughs. He squints at you and you look away quickly. Guess he didn’t need those books to figure you out because now he knew all. 

“We should go out to dinner tonight.” Dazai says casually, carelessly as though he was speaking of the weather. 

“Dinner?” You echo and he looks down at you, nodding his head. “For what purpose?”

“A date.”

“A- date?” You echoed again, he didn’t take his eyes from yours. Again he nodded his head, cocking it slightly. 

“That’s what I want, I’m sure it’s what you want to.”

“You’re so sure?” You ask and his lips quirk up in a smirk as he nods his head again. “How so?”

“You don’t smile around me.” He says simply, sipping the rest of his coffee, tossing it in a trash can before slipping his hands in his pocket. You blink. 

“Okay… and?”

“And you don’t like your smile, so why would you do it around someone you fancy?” He asks so casually. Your expression drops as he holds the door open to the building the agency is located in. You pause. He caught you red handed. He purses his lips at you. Never once did you think his little sleuthing skills would sus you out. You bit at the inside of your cheek and cursed yourself for not being able to refute it in time because too many seconds had passed. You sigh, pushing past him. 

“You're annoyingly perceptive.” You say. Dazai laughs at that as you reach and press the button to the elevator. Part of you wishes you can slip on and close the doors real quick before he can but when the doors open, you're too in your head and Dazai strolls on before you can do anything. Dejectedly you walk in too and stand on the opposite side far from him as the doors slide closed. You can feel the weight of his eyes on you, you sip your cold coffee, not enough to ease the heat under your skin. “Stop looking at me.” You whisper as though someone other than Dazai could’ve possibly heard you. 

“Something wrong?” He asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice. It made you miss the moments where he seemed like the nervous one. “You’re extremely red.”

“Shut up.”

“Like the actual shade of maroon.”

“Go to hell.” You snap. 

But why would he be nervous around you if not for… oh. Gaining just the smallest bit of control over the situation you remembered what it meant to see he was reading something you were reading for the first time. Or catching him staring at you across the room multiple times over the day. Him buying you lunch and snapping at Atsushi when he lingered by your desk too long. The door to the elevator slid open and you turned to him, motioning him first.

“Such a lady.” He says, walking out first, you follow. But Dazai stops, blocking the door. “We have work to do, you know?” You sigh but he just leans in and presses a soft kiss against your lips. You let out a little gasp, your coffee splashing onto your hand. You raise your hand to push him away but you feel the warmth of his own eclipse the side of your face, stirring up something in the pit of your stomach. His fingers barely slide into your hair, surely messing up your braid but you can’t find it in you to be annoyed because he’s kissing you so expertly. Walking you back until you're pressed up against the wall just by the detective agency door and pressing himself against you. You let out a small noise that he devours. When he pulls back for a breath you speak.

“Osamu, I-” He’s back on you in seconds. Hearing his name on your pink swollen lips, your voice slightly hoarse and out of breath, he could’ve devoured you whole right there in that moment. Suddenly there’s a click, the door to the agency being pulled open. You shove Dazai off of you and turn away from whoever was walking out. Your cheeks and hair are surely a mess.

“Ah Dazai, of course I’d find you out here slacking off.” Kunikida says disapprovingly, his eyes turning to you. “And keeping Ms. L/n from her duties, shameful.” He says walking further into the hallway. You clear your throat, brushing your fingers through your hair. Kunikida looks at you. 

“Ms. L/n? Are you feeling well? Do you need something?” Kunikida asks.

“Nothing I can’t provide her.” Dazai replies, making your cheeks go even redder. 

“What? Dazai, she looks hot.”

“Yes,” He agrees. “Very hot.”

“Quite messing around!” Kunikida growls.

“I’m fine. Really, just gonna get back to work.” You say, pushing past Dazai back into the agency. You practically run to your desk, burying yourself in your work. Everybody else had left for the day, you just needed to finish one report then you could leave too. Dazai walks in a moment later and stroll to your desk. “Leave me alone.”

“We should talk about what just happened.” Dazai says as you refuse to look up at him, fuming. 

“Nothing happened, I don’t know what you're talking about.” You answer stubbornly. 

“Oh really?” He’s quick, deft fingers sliding under your chin to tilt it up. “Let me jog your memory.” He purrs just before leaning and meeting your lips with his own.You didn’t expect the kiss but that didn’t mean it wasn’t waiting there hungrily between you both for months and months. You didn’t expect his hands, covered in scars, to feel so soft against your face. But you had wanted and needed this so badly your eyes practically pleading every moment you looked at him. The world turned around you as you slowly rose to your feet, Dazai pulling you onto the top of your desk until he was standing between your knees. The grasp you had held onto so tightly was loosening. Your lips parted in a gasp and Dazai, with a growl of barely contained want. And he kissed you deeper and harder. Pressing you back against the desk, things knocking off left and right. Your lips parted in invitation and Dazai was never one to leave an opportunity unexplored. Every part of him was pressing against you, he wanted to make this special, make every touch one that you would crave and remember. He wanted you to be reading your silly books of tragedy in your desk chair and think about this moment. Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging slightly.

“Oh- my god!” Kunikida exclaimed from the door. This was like a bucket of cold water to the moment completely. Dazai pushed up slightly, shooting a glare at Kunikida. “And to think I was worried you were sick.” Kunikida sighs, looking horrified. You pushed Dazai off you, getting to your feet. You didn’t talk as you picked up things you two knocked over onto the ground. Dazai leaned and grabbed the last thing, handing it to you, you grabbed it, your fingers brushing over his. It sent a chill down your spine. You grabbed your bag and looked at your feet as you left, too embarrassed to look Kunikida in the eyes. You rode the elevator alone and when it stopped at the ground floor you slipped out into the cold, inhaling a deep deep breath, leaning against the cold brick. The door pushed open behind you. 

“There you are.” Dazai says, walking and slinging your jacket over your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.” You shook your head. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea after everything. I mean,” You sighed. “I’m probably gonna get fired anyways but-”

“No one’s firing anyone.” Dazai says as you bite your lip.

“There’s no way he won’t tell Fukuzawa.” You say as Dazai cocks his head, his brown hair falling into his eyes. 

“There is a way and I already took care of it.” He shrugs as you look up at him.

“How?”

“That’s a secret.” He says, slowly sliding his arm over your shoulders. “Come on, I’m not letting you walk, it’s too cold.”

“I like the cold.” You say, knowing if you got in that car he’d probably have you in his lap in seconds. It seems any hope of control has now been squandered. If you couldn’t control yourself in the office, his car, with dark windows and a long ride home, was going to prove to be a challenge. 

“Do you really?” He asks with a smirk.

“You better be a gentleman.” You say with a sigh, letting him lead you to his car. 

“I’ll be as gentle as you want, love.” He says and you can’t help it, after being caught red handed you start laughing, rolling your eyes. 

“You’re the worst.” You smile as he leans and presses a kiss to your lips.

[theminecraftbee]

Joel sits awkwardly at a family dinner table that isn’t for him.

It’s nice and all, he reckons, for Impulse’s family to invite him over after he leaves the hospital. Even before—everything—Joel’s family hadn’t really been the “big meal around a big table” type, so he’s getting some new experiences here too. And it’s nice and all, that they want to thank him for his role in finding Skizz.

But like. It’s not like he or Impulse or Skizz could explain how it happened, when asked. “Magic brain ghosts” and “evil butterflies” and “Joel still isn’t certain all of that was real and is trying to pretend it wasn’t” puts a damper on that. Also, adults are kind of shit at talking around the fact Joel’s whole family is dead, so he gets the sense he’s sort of harshing the vibes, you know?

Still. It’s a nice gesture. He guesses. It’s free food at least, which is decent, and as close as Impulse and Skizz are, every time one of Impulse’s family says something stupid, Skizz taps Joel’s leg with his foot or steals a roll or something, and it makes Joel feel…

He’d have been sad if Skizz had died, probably. Like, he wouldn’t know. He didn’t come here to make friends, he came here to get a degree and get out. Also, that’s stupid, because it’s not like Joel would have known he was missing a really awkward congratulatory family dinner in which Skizz kept on trying to sneakily steal beans. Probably would have just moved right on. He’s not… friendly.

But.

They stand outside afterwards, waving by to Impulse, promising to walk together so that neither of them Vanish. They’re quiet.

“Thanks, man. That meant a lot to them,” Skizz says.

“Yeah, well, I can do stupid things for free food,” Joel says.

Skizz laughs. “It was nice having you there, too. Man, they’re even worse with you! It’s like not knowing you means they’re even more awkward about family tragedy.”

“Trust me, most adults are way worse. You should see my social worker,” Joel says.

“Didn’t he ditch you, dude?”

“Haha, yeah, he did,” Joel says.

They stare up at the streetlamps together.

“I was really ready to go for a bit there,” Skizz says. Joel’s hackles raise. Oh no. Emotions. Bad. Go away. “It was like—man, it felt like the whole world was empty. But when you showed up, it’s like I remembered… I’d miss dinners, dude.”

“I have no idea why, that kinda sucked,” Joel says, baffled and sarcastic, because he’s a moron who can’t handle emotional conversations, this is why everyone avoided him at the funeral, stupid.

Skizz breaks out laughing.

“You’re great, man! I’m glad we met. Uh, my place is only a block away, and I won’t go following any stupid butterflies. See you at school?”

“Yeah man. See you,” Joel says—

I am thou.

Thou art I.

Thou hath formed a new bond.

With the power of the Chariot Arcana, you shall build the chains with which to hold on to reality.

RANK 1!

“What the hell?” Joel says, tripping over his feet. “What? What? Where did—what the fuck that wasn’t Pygmalion oh god do I have more than one voice in my head—”

“Dude, are you okay?”

Skizz’s almost frustratingly strong and comforting arms grab Joel.

“Tell me you heard that,” Joel says desperately.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I could take you back to the hospital—no?”

“I am either crazy or am going to end up in a government lab?” Joel says, voice getting high and squeaky.

“We can ask Mr. Hills about it? He came to talk to me after I woke up in the hospital, apparently he like, knows stuff,” Skizz says.

“I don’t wanna,” Joel says.

“Tough luck, buddy, you just almost fell over and cracked your head open!”

Suddenly, Joel remembers a long-nosed man and a blonde in a very blue boat. He remembers a cryptic conversation about bonds and power and their importance. He takes a deep breath. “Can you cover your ears for a moment?” he says.

“Yeah, sure thing, why—”

Joel, as loudly as he can, screams. He hears several birds fly away. He pants.

“…Joel,” Skizz says.

“Yeah thanks man don’t worry about it let’s never speak of this again I’m sure it’s nothing. I definitely didn’t have a weird dream about this and should go to bed.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say,” Skizz says cheerfully before laughing, which Joel continues grumbling about all the way back to his apartment.