#and man I fucking adore any scene between the two

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend

Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.

Ghost

Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.

You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.

He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.

There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.

More on this later 👀.

He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.

Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.

Expect a lot of praise in bed.

Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.

Other times, he’s not so gentle.

Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.

His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.

“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”

He’s very protective of you.

He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.

Scary dog privileges.

Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.

That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.

He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.

As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.

However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.

“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”

König

Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.

But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.

He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.

When he feels like it.

He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.

You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.

Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.

Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.

He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.

Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.

A little bit silly.

And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.

Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.

One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.

He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.

Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.

Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.

It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.

Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.

“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.

“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”

His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.

“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.

“Inch by bloody inch.”

Valeria

You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.

That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.

Sexual or otherwise.

She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.

Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.

In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.

“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.

“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”

She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.

She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.

Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.

Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.

Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.

Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.

You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”

You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.

Price

He’s so father-coded fr.

He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.

Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.

John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.

Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.

The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.

When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.

A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.

On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.

E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.

He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”

“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.

“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.

“And all mine.”

Horangi

You’re the only thing that matters to him.

At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.

Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).

His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.

In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.

You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.

You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.

Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.

Unless you push him too far.

At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.

He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.

“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”

He never fails in the aftercare department, though.

Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.

Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.

A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.

Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.

Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.

Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”

Alejandro

Pre-established passionate lover.

One who is fiercely protective over you.

If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.

You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.

He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.

A thorough lover is how you might describe him.

Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.

You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.

Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.

Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.

He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.

“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.

Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”

Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.

Rodolfo

His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.

As he should.

You want it ? You got it. 

In abundance.

You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.

That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.

He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.

Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.

Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”

Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.

It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.

“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.

“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.

“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

Graves

This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.

Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.

He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.

E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.

“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”

He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.

He never expects anything from you in return.

He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.

Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.

Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.

On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.

He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.

“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.

#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.

He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.

“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.

Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[s-awturn]

Jealousy, jealousy || F1 Dilfs

cw: jealousy, slightly possessive behavior, suggestion of obscenity, teasing, bratty behavior, public display of affection, and blah blah blah

a/n: This has been running through my mind for a few days now, thinking about these men vibrating with jealousy, I couldn't let it go. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

starring: Toto Wolff, Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Jenson Button, Mark Webber, Kimi Raikkonen.

soundtrack: baby i'm jealous — bebe rexha ft. doja cat

Baby, I'm jealous, ooh

And I know that it ain't right

But I'm jealous, jealous (haha)

TOTO WOLFF:

Who could blame him? You were beautiful, intelligent and charismatic, even if you were a little shy, Toto understood why people orbited around you. But damn, that didn't stop Toto from being jealous of you, how could someone as smart as you not see that the McLaren kid was flirting with you?

It was clear how interested Lando was in you, very interested in fact. And that made jealousy bubble dangerously inside him and Toto didn't like that, he was confident, he knew you were in love with him, but fuck it, he couldn't help it.

It was time for him to make it clear who you were with.

He rolled up his sleeves to his elbow and walked over to where you were talking to Norris, who was too distracted to notice Wolff's approach.

Lando took a step back when he finally noticed Toto, the older man wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed his temple, keeping his dark eyes on Lando, making his message very clear.

"Norris" he said, making you even more attached to him. "Schatzi, shall we go? The car is waiting for us."

Lando swallowed, Toto's gaze was a subtle threat and he wasn't about to provoke one of the fiercest crew chiefs on the grid. You were forbidden ground. The British pilot said a quick goodbye to you and left.

“I know what you did, Toto” you hummed, feeling him kiss your neck, oblivious to who might be watching.

“That’s great, I hope everyone knows and stops flirting with you,” he said, making you turn to him. “I don’t want any boy who’s barely out of diapers trying to win over my girl.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

“You look cute when you’re jealous, honey.”

“Just for you, schatzi”

SEBASTIAN VETTEL:

He was watching the news when he was attacked by a five-year-old girl with two missing teeth. “I got you, monster!”

He pretended to be in pain as he writhed on the couch, making the little girl laugh. “Oh no, she managed to hit me!”

Sebastian pulled the girl onto his lap, tickling her belly, Eva laughed loudly trying to dodge the tickles until she was surprised by kisses.

“How was school today, princess? Did you learn a lot today?”

You watched the scene leaning against the door, Eva and Sebastian spent hours there playing after school, the girl told you everything, from when they had finished and reached the letter F in the alphabet until the time who arrived home.

“Make her wash her hands, Seb, I’ll go to the kitchen to see if lunch is ready.

“You can leave it to me, Süße, This little pig is going to wash her hands very well” and with that, he threw the girl over his shoulder and took her to the bathroom.

Eva and Sebastian were extremely close, Eva was the apple of her father's eye and Sebastian was Eva's master idol, she adored her father more than anything.

“Daddy? Can I tell you something?” Eva asked softly.

“Sure love, whatever you want.” He poured some soap on her little hands. “What’s wrong?”

“One of the teachers at school seems to like Mommy.”

Sebastian didn't stop rubbing Eva's hands, but the crease between his blond eyebrows made it clear that he had listened and didn't like what he heard.

“Is that so, dear?” He asked

“I think so, Daddy. He always gives her a rose, but Mommy throws it away.”

Maybe it was time for Sebastian to start picking up Eva from school.

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll talk to him and he’ll stop giving Mommy flowers.”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Eva said, swinging her little feet as Sebastian washed his hands.

And the next day he was there, he respected the teachers a lot, but he needed to put that little teacher in his place. Sebastian smiled politely, asking Eva to stay in the car, playing with the Rubik's cube after the girl pointed out who the inconvenient teacher was.

“Mr Vettel, it’s a pleasure to see you in our school” The professor greeted him and Sebastian gave a tight smile, before standing two steps away from the professor.

“I’ll be brief, my daughter is in the car and my wife is waiting for us at home, so stop giving my wife flowers, or you’ll get flowers too” Sebastian’s smile widened “on All Souls' Day,” he added, giving the teacher a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I hope I was clear.”

“Like water,” he replied stammeringly.

“Great, you're a smart guy, so I won't have to report you for harassment, I'm glad we understood each other." He said and left, whistling as he walked to his car. Eva didn't even take her eyes off the cube, obsessed with the toy ever since Kimi gave it to her.

“Will he stop falling in love with Mommy, Daddy?”

“Yes, baby, let’s go home?”

FERNANDO ALONSO:

Fernando was the most expressive person you knew, he couldn't keep his emotions hidden, everyone could tell when he was angry, happy or frustrated. This was sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse.

And at that moment, anger and frustration were very present on the Spaniard's face. It was your first time in the paddock since you started dating, you never had so much time to travel with him and follow the races, so everything was new to you. He was happy to have taken you and couldn't deny that he hoped you would stay close to him, knowing everything. He didn't think another pilot would take his attention.

But apparently, Jenson Button and Michael Schumacher had your full attention, you were so excited to get their autographs, you were smiling so excitedly that you could barely sit still. Fernando didn't want to be rude, didn't want to ruin his first experience on that side of the racetrack, but damn, he was jealous.

He didn't remember seeing you act so excitedly towards him like that. Still biting the cap of a pen, Fernando returned to the Renault pit, he knew that Michael or Jenson could accompany you if you wanted to return to the garage. Fernando wouldn't let his jealousy make your visit to the paddock a bad thing, he might be jealous but he still wanted you happy.

In the garage, he engaged in conversation with his mechanics and engineers, preparing for the free practice session that would take place in a few hours. But his mind was still focused on you, happily bouncing around your “favorite pilots,” he mentally sneered, his mouth twisting in spite.

“Do you understand?” one of the engineers asked and Fernando nodded stiffly.

“Of course I understand, I’m not an idiot,” he replied, putting his hands in the pockets of his overalls before being hugged by you.

“I looked for you like crazy, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back to the garage?” You kissed his shoulder, leaving a light pink lipstick mark on the flame retardant.

“I didn't want to interrupt your very interesting conversation with Button and Schumacher” he couldn't help the bitterness in his voice, making you frown in confusion.

“Whoa, why are you like that, baby?”

“Mhmm? You’re imagining things, corazón” Fernando said, avoiding your eyes, so he didn't see your mischievous smile. He often forgot that you knew him better than anyone else.

“Am I really? Then why did you leave me alone with Michael and Jenson?” You questioned, circling him until you were facing him, watching the pilot look away as he ruffled his unruly hair. “Oh, you’re jealous.”

“Me? Jealous of Jenson and Michael? You’re going crazy, honey.” He laughed mockingly.

You weren't affected by his sarcasm, you just hugged him again and pressed your lips to his chin, listening to his breathing hitch. Fernando finally released the tension that held his shoulders and hugged you tightly, drawing a smug smile from you.

"I see right through you, Nando, and I can tell when my man is jealous, don't try to fool me," you said sincerely. "I really like Jenson and Michael, but it's you I love, now go out there and kick all their asses.”

Fernando smiled and kissed you warmly. “If I bring you the trophy, will you give me a son?” he asked as he walked away from you.

“Maybe, who knows?” you smiled mischievously and walked away, going to his team to watch the training, giving the pilot a little peck while stealing his cap.

JENSON BUTTON:

Jenson was not a jealous man, he loved to show you off, to let everyone know that you, a beautiful girl a few years younger than him, had chosen him. He tried not to be arrogant, but he loved you being the center of attention, and the fact that you always wanted to go unnoticed made everything better.

“I'm going to get myself some coconut water, do you want it?” you asked, lifting the brim of Jenson's cap to get his attention. “Jen, are you listening to me?”

“I'm always listening to you, peach” He said, crossing his fingers over his abdomen as he looked at you, smiling cheekily. “I’d love to, if you could bring it...” he said pulling out his wallet and taking out the card for you.

“Nah, don’t even think about it Button! I can afford a coconut water for me and my boyfriend!” you said and marched to the kiosk by the beach. Jenson pulled down the brim of his cap, watching you walk away.

Jenson watched as a few men looked at you as you walked by, admiring your curves. Some even tried to get your attention, but Jenson saw you ignore them all, going to get your coconut water.

It's not like any of those idiots could have you.

He lifted his cap, keeping his eyes on you, ready to avoid any bad situation you might face. But you walked back to where he was, holding two green coconuts, you were blushing and had a cute pout on your lips.

“What’s wrong, peach?” he asked, pulling you to sit on his thighs, he kept his hand on your hip, playing with the bikini string that escaped your jean shorts. “Did some idiot say something stupid to you?”

“Nothing much, don’t worry,” you said before he kissed you so hard that it made you blush. “Jen! We’re in public!”

“I couldn't help it, peach, your mouth was calling me for a kiss, I couldn't be rude”

You slapped him on the chest, making him laugh. Jenson noticed that no one else was looking in your direction. Just because he wasn't jealous didn't mean he wouldn't make it clear that you already had someone.

He.

MARK WEBBER:

It was supposed to be just a family dinner, his family already knew Mark, they were used to him being present at family events and it was always a surprise when he didn't show up.

It was supposed to be just dinner, but what would family gatherings be without a little drama? The entire table was engaged in a conversation about Formula One's return after the summer holidays and you were laughing at the silly argument between your father and Mark, your father was a big supporter of Lando Norris and Mark made no secret of his preference for Oscar Piastri when the door opened, revealing his older brother and best friend, Ben.

Well, it had been your ex-boyfriend in high school and you had a bad breakup and he hadn't gotten over it, even after years.

“Wow Y/N, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you” he said after greeting everyone, he came to you with a nostalgic smile that didn’t affect you. “You look beautiful”

You gave a polite nod, even though you had gotten over it, continuing to keep in touch with Ben was never an option for you.

“It's kind of you, Ben... This is my husband, Mark” you introduced them, seeing Ben give a dry greeting, Mark responded in the same way and continued talking to his father as if no one had interrupted. You hid your smile behind your wine glass, Mark acted exactly as you expected.

The conversation continued and you ignored Ben's indiscreet glances at you, it wasn't like Mark wasn't there for Ben to try to gain his attention so blatantly. Everything got worse with his comments, sometimes flirting with you, sometimes trying to get a reaction out of Mark.

Those attempts were turning dinner, which was supposed to be light and fun, into a cold war zone. You were tense and Mark noticed this, placing his thick hand on your thigh, gently caressing your skin to calm you down; a sign that he would take control of the situation and put his ex-boyfriend in his place.

You smiled, grateful and proud that Mark was your husband.

“Out of respect for my in-laws, Benjamin, I ask that you stop trying to flirt with my wife, or I will knock your teeth out.” Mark spoke calmly before swallowing his shot of whiskey, you heard your brothers cough nervously and your cousins giggle.

You knew Ben would give a bad answer, he was a provocative jerk and would try to push Mark over the edge. Not that it was the wisest move, not when on the other side of the fight was a former Formula One driver who was driving a car weighing over a ton at three hundred kilometers per hour.

“Maybe I’m trying to make her see that she made some bad choices, but everything can be fixed if she wants it to be.”

Mark laughed.

“Breaking up with you wasn’t a mistake, Benjamin, it was a deliverance,” Mark retorted and your eyes widened. “Don’t think for a moment that you have any chance with my wife, I can't speak for Y/N, but I guarantee she doesn't miss you at all.”

Benjamin stammered like an idiot until he managed to form a sentence.

“You don’t know that”

Mark laughed more and shook the glass, playing with the ice “of course I do, I work hard to make sure there’s only room for me in her heart… so don’t be stupid and stop embarrassing yourself in front of everyone”

Mark's hand squeezed your thigh and you smiled, resting yours on top of his.

KIMI RAIKKONEN:

He hated parties, crowds, loud noise, people smelling of alcohol and cigarettes, urgh, he hated. But Kimi's karma was to be in love with a girl in her early twenties, enjoying the last moments of her college life before her obligations of adult life become part of your daily life. So there he was, leaning against a wall in a nightclub, looking away from the dancing crowd, his rigid posture and disinterested expression keeping the curious away.

He shook the glass, making the ice cubes collide with each other as he watched his girlfriend dance happily on the dance floor, surrounded by a few friends.The Finn's icy eyes roamed over her body relentlessly, appreciating how happy she seemed to be as she moved to the pop music, that made it worth going to that hellish nightclub, he would do whatever he could to ensure your happiness, even being there, outside of his natural habitat.

The ice surrounding Kimi cracked a little when he saw you smile at him, your bright eyes and happy aura made that torment worth it. You walked towards the ex-pilot and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Honey, come dance with me,” you invited, pouting slightly to help convince him. “Just one song.”

“You know I'm terrible at this, lumihiutale, I'd rather watch you” he said and nibbled on your lip, making you whimper.

“You’re a bad guy, Kimi.”

He gave a smile, very rare for other people, but routine for you.

“I suspect you like it, princess.”

“You’ll never hear that from me.” You closed your mouth with an imaginary zipper and joined your friends. Kimi left the glass on the table and looked around, seeing a strange man staring at you. The Finn knew then that his evening, so pleasant, would encounter an irritating obstacle.

You were completely distracted by your friends, dancing and singing happily, you looked beautiful under the neon lights of the club, fucking beautiful.

He trusted that you would be okay for a few moments while he went to the bar to get you some water; when he came back, he found a boy surrounding you, trying to ask you to dance, even if you denied it and raised your hand, showing the promise ring. Not that this had dampened the boy's spirits. Kimi felt a strange spark ignite inside him, that boy — who didn't even have a beard — seemed to be close to his age and wasn't as ugly. What if you preferred someone your own age? Someone who would go to clubs and parties with you without complaining? Someone who would dance with you?

He growled lowly and walked over to where you and the boy were, and was present, seeing the boy's eyes widen, recognizing him.

“Get lost, kid,” he said simply, putting his arm around your shoulders, making you press your back against his chest. “She doesn’t need a brat like you.”

The boy stuttered and stumbled away, making you laugh.

You turned to Kimi, your cheeks were flushed and you were smiling.

“You being jealous is a new scenario for me, I think I like it” she stood on her tiptoes, sealing a quick kiss on his lips, Kimi slid her hands down to your hips, bringing the two of you closer together.

“Jealousy? I have no idea what that is, sweetie...” he said. “Shall we go home? I need to prove to you that you really don’t need inexperienced boys.”

His eyes lit up with mischief and expectation. “Not that any other guy besides you interests me, but I accept your proposal.”

In the end, his questions were ignored, you were Kimi Raikkonen's girl and no stupid boy was going to change that.

[bohemianblasphemy]

things sam winchester would do bc i said so✨

N/SFW

SFW

- sam would be the best boyfriend. he is just such a sweet man and he’s so big n tall n cuddly HES SO BOYFRIEND. such a gentleman.

- remembers the small things about you - he knows your coffee order by heart and your favourite things. he will get something that relates to it to see that beautiful smile on your face - it makes him happy to see you happy.

- he says I love you first.

- gives the best hugs.

- mornings with sam are perfection. he gets up before you, wanting to cook a breakfast for the both of you. when you walk into the kitchen he’s at the stove cooking up, you wrap your arms around him and he smiles as his love embraces him.

- he’d be very protective of you. with his past experiences with jess he is scared of losing you and he will do anything in his power to keep you safe. it took him a while to pursue you due to his fear, but after dean convincing him to (bc he was getting sick of the pining between you two) he was all in, nothing could seperate you both.

- cuddles, cuddles and even more cuddles. yes he is a big spoon but you know what??? some days he wants to be held. he will put his head on your chest, letting his hands roam your torso and feel your warm skin against his fingers. bonus points for playing with his hair whilst he’s like that, he loves it and will make lil sighs and content noises.

-oh he is king of kissing. its just so gentle and sweet, he can never get enough of you. its cute as fuck when he kisses your forehead, cheeks, the tip of your nose and then pecks your lips. he’s also a fan of giving and receiving neck kisses.

a passionate man.

speaking of passionate…

NSFW

- he is a dom ( i mean did we not see the scene with Ruby???). he definitely uses his height to his advantage - knowing that it gets you hot and bothered seeing his lust filled eyes looking down at you, teasing you ever so slightly with his long fingers.

- he can be very rough and passionate, but he also makes love like there’s no tomorrow. one minute he can be absolutely pounding into you and smacking your ass, the next minute he will be gentle and soft- kissing all over you and praising the fuck outta you.

- praise kink. enough said.

- he l o v e s dirty talk.

“you’re such a good girl for me, i can’t get enough of you…”

“ fuck baby your mouth feels amazing, i need more…”

- you cannot convince me this man does not live to eat pussy. don’t get me wrong, he absolutely loves when receives oral but MAN he will not stop at anything to get a taste of you. (extra points for pulling his hair, he loves that too). he also leave hickeys behind on your inner thighs…

- he loves missionary. his need to look at you whilst he fucks you senseless - it makes him hard. he needs you to looks at him, watching you come undone makes him cum harder inside you. he is also a fan of you on top, adores seeing your tits bounce whilst you ride his cock. (defs a boob man)

- aftercare is so important to him. he will sing sweet praises to you, meets any needs that you may wish for and follows through.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

i hope you enjoyed!!! please do send in requests if you would like!!! ✨✨

[alexiroflife]

being married to gojo as an actress while playing the role of a villain...

au, fluff, some suggestive themes, cheating themes

🌟🌟🌟

both you, satoru, and probably the rest of the world can confidently say that satoru is your biggest fan. while he is fully successful within his own career, he can not help but fawn over your achievements like a ten year old boy with one of your movie posters hung up in his room

the world does not associate either of you without the other. yes, you have individually made an outstanding name for yourself within the television and theater industry, but your fans find the two of you so adorable, so iconic that it’s impossible to imagine you without satoru gojo and satoru gojo without you

viewers are starstruck when you arrive to your film premiers with satoru on your arm, beaming pridefully as though it’s his first time walking the red carpet when that’s hardly true. you’re beautiful, and everyone knows it. the second your eyes meet a camera along with satoru’s striking blue ones, his hand wrapped snugly around your waist and your faces adorned with dazzling smiles, photographers go wild. even more so when satoru blatantly grabs your face and kisses you all over, feeding your fan pages’ content as well as his desire to constantly shower you in affection

and when it’s not at premieres, satoru’s supporting you during tours, press conferences, galas, meet and greets, sitting backstage or in the front row of the crowd or at times by your side as though he can’t bear to be away from you. when you’re being showered in appreciation, he’s flicking thousands of pictures, capturing the way you interact with your adoring admirers

satoru's grown rather used to the array of roles you have played. he's seen you in rom-coms, dramas, thrillers, actions, you name it, and though he doesn't necessarily get jealous when you have to kiss someone on screen anymore, he doesn't always appreciate some of the intimate scenes you do. despite so, he trusts you. he knows it's your job and that none of it is real, and above all, he knows the faces you make when you're truly experiencing pleasure. while you're an amazing actor, those faces you make on screen could never begin to compare to the ones he draws out of you

ever the arrogant man, however, satoru always makes it a point to remind you of who makes you feel good- who has you crossing your legs under the table as you meet with colleagues over the computer, his fingers working their way in and out of your sopping cunt off camera as you try your damndest to keep a straight face while your entire lower half is squirming- who makes a point to fuck you over the dresser of your trailer in between shoots after having brought you some coffee to help keep your energy high, rambling on about how one of the tech assistants had been looking at you for too long- who, at any event possible, will never fail to lay you back on the seat of your limo before even stepping outside, scrunching up your obscenely priced gown to eat you out as he gazes up at you over your legs

"you're so gorgeous, pretty. my pretty girl," "how lucky am i to be the only one who gets to see you like this, hm?" "fuck, baby, they have no fuckin' idea how good you feel"

even with his habits, satoru will never turn his nose up at any role you play simply because you're far too talented and simultaneously devoted to him for him to ever feel put off by your occupation. besides, he's managed to bag one of the most famous actors in the world. he truly does not think he has anything to worry about when it comes to you

satoru finds himself rather surprised, yet excited nonetheless, when he hears that you are to be playing a dislikable character in the upcoming film of the summer. you warn him that it's drastically different, that you'll be tapping into a morally poor side of yourself for this role that you have never delved into, nor really favored before

"pretty, you'll do amazing. trust me. do i get to watch you be mean to other guys? do you get to beat anyone's ass? honestly, that sounds like a dream come true" "i mean, yeah, but toru it's more than that. my character is actually a bitch. an unfaithful, abusive one. i don't know how i'm gonna do that..."

satoru knows that behind all the glitz, glamor, and fame, the occupation of an actor can be incredibly emotionally and physically taxing. you don't tell him much more about the role before rehearsals and filming starts, but he can tell over time that you're struggling with this particular film. simply because you're just too kind of a person despite how large your presence is

well into the filming process, he decides to visit you on set to serve as some extra emotional support. he's watching from behind the cameras intently as you go through a scene that's way more intense than he had previously expected, and his jaw practically drops as he watches the scene play out before him

your character is being confronted by her husband about her infidelity, and all the while as your acting partner screams at you in tears to beg you for some remorse, you lay back on a sofa with a cigarette pinched between your fingers, face completely dull and apathetic

"how could you do this to me?! to us? why won't you look at me! I say something!"

"whatever i say won't change the fact that i fucked someone else."

"...do you even care? do you care that you've ruined our relationship?"

"let's be real, there was no relationship to begin with."

"w-what do you mean?"

you stand, stubbing your cigarette into a mug, and walk over to your sniveling scene partner. the camera zooms on your face, your dead eyes, your angled brows. "i never loved you. don't you get it? you're just a pet, and you know it. so don't go crying to me about breaking something that was never promised"

satoru's eyes are wide, completely enraptured as though this scene is a real moment he is witnessing from afar. your fake husband he breaks down, dropping to his knees and clinging to you, but you curl your lips in disgust.

"get the fuck off me," you hiss, shoving him rather aggressively away. he falls, sobbing. "pathetic piece of shit."

you go to turn away, but stop and stumble. immediately you break, and gone is the merciless woman that was acting before the crew seconds ago. the light returns to your eyes as you cover your mouth in embarrassment, looking up.

"sorry, i forgot my next block," you say sweetly, timidly. "how was that?"

"perfect! let's pick up from when you turn away. once you say that last line, you-"

satoru is baffled, the director's notes falling into muffled white noise as he stares at you. he's never seen you in such a position before, one that has him questioning everything about you. and though you claimed to have a hard time with it, you were doing fucking phenomenal

he sees now what you mean about your character being... well, a horrible person for lack of a better term. he doesn't even recognize you, and he's sure your fans are going to have a field day when this film comes out. you're being shown in a drastically different light from your heroine and emotionally relatable love interest positions, and it will surely be a sight for the world to see.

during your break, you walk up to satoru tiredly and burrow your face into his chest. he wraps you up immediately, babbling about how insane you were in your scene. you look up at him with those big (e/c) eyes as he runs his hand over the back of your head.

"you think so?"

"baby, my jaw was dropped the entire time. i don't even know how you did that. you played that a little too well."

he's joking, but you still make a face of slight fear, as though you're scared of offending him. "you think it's too much?"

"no- it's a lot, but no- it's perfect. it's bold, and you do it so well."

"it doesn't make you uncomfortable?"

"why would it make me uncomfortable, pretty? i know you're acting, and it's not like you'd ever cheat on me let alone act like that," he tilts his head as a remorseful look flashes through your eyes. "are you uncomfortable?"

"i don't know... i'm just scared of how people will react... mostly because i could never picture saying this stuff to you, and i've had to do a lot of exercises to get into this toxic mindset that just... eugh. trust me, you haven't even seen the half of it."

"have you been able to take long enough breaks?"

"kinda..."

"alright, let's go chill in your trailer 'til your next call. i don't want you stressing your pretty little head about this, princess. you're doing amazing and remember, it's just a movie."

and yes, it's just a movie. a movie that has satoru twitching in his seat during the premiere at how uncomfortably awful you're acting the entire time in the film. by now, you've eased into the feel of things and are rather proud of the work you''ve done, but also happy that it's all over. you hold satoru's hand tight during some of the worst scenes, sneaking glances at him as the screen flickers intensely over his glassy eyes. you can tell he's rather moved by it all, by seeing you in such a position, and you chew harshly on the inside of your lip

when the lights come up, you're given a standing ovation initiated of course by your rather emotional husband, but in his defense, the entire room has tears in their eyes as well. satoru's clapping harshly, and you try to hide your face as grateful tears spring in your eyes, grateful for this opportunity, for your accomplishments, for the support that surrounds you

satoru wraps you in a huge hug and whispers in your ear "don't ever do what you just did in that movie to me," he whimpers, and you laugh loudly because both of you know the thought is inconceivable. "you did so so good, baby. m'so proud of how far you've come"

that night, you shower each other with love. you're wrapped up in each other's limbs, your lips meeting every part of his skin to remind him that you are still you despite the realism of the character you played, and that satoru will always be your one and only you devote yourself faithfully to for the rest of your life. when the two of you have spent yourselves, satoru holds you in the moonlit darkness of your bedroom, arms wrapped around you from behind with your back to his chest. he kisses your shoulder softly, then your cheek

"you really liked the movie, toru?" you whisper. "i loved it," he mumbles into your skin. "but, god, i thought i was gonna have a heart attack almost fifty times and that one scene with you at the bar didn't help." "i knew you were gonna say something about that!" "i can't help it, baby, you were just so heartless and scary," he pouts

[the-writer-arrived]

Voice lines and habits that give me unholy thoughts

Synopsis: it doesn't need much for your cute little brain to go haywire with desire for him... (un)fortunately for you, he's quick to catch on the signs and use them against you.

Characters: wriothesley, alhaitham.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; a bit of plot since i like the build up to the horny part; use of handcuffs, oral f!receiving, fingering & overstimulation (wriothesley); semi-public/office sex & oral m!receiving (alhaitham).

A/N: wrio's teaser and web event messed with my brain :D hoyoverse def knew what they were doing when they created him.

This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.

"...Sweetheart, did you hear me or were you too busy staring intensely at my hand?"

"...Oh! I, uh... was just thinking about an answer to your question!"

"Does my question of whether you want more tea or not need that much pondering over?"

Wriothesley rests his cheek on his hand, not even trying to hold back a smirk as he watches the redness of your cheeks becoming more proeminent.

Shit. So much for thinking you were being discreet about it.

You decide to exercise your right to remain silent, taking the teapot and filling your own cup, promptly ignoring the chuckle coming from the man before you.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the handsome bastard has the audacity to return twirling and moving that dastard pen again, as if to taunt you.

...Is feeling jealous of an object too concerning of a sign?

----------

Wriothesley was seeing you out of his office, a stack of documents in your arms that needed to be delivered to Neuvillette about the recent happenings of the Fortress, a task that you were more than happy to do for him.

As you were finishing your conversation, you hear a commotion coming from the Coupon Cafeteria. With a shared glance between you two, the warden walks towards the scene to investigate, you following a few steps behind.

There, you see a group of inmates-- no, it's more like one inmate is causing a ruckus while the others are trying to cool him off... without much success apparently. In fact, things are quickly getting out of control when the riled up man begins to fight anyone opposing him.

Your boyfriend is known to be level-headed, always trying to resolve internal conflicts by talking things out to reach an agreement. Cases like this one, however, require a more... on hands approach.

It all happens too fast. The prisoner turns around to hit the next person that dared to touch him so casually, only for his sloppy attack to be dodged with ease by none other than the Duke himself. One could easily see the color draining from man's face, any trace of his anger disappearing in a flash.

You gasp at the scene ahead of you, having to lean on the large pipe next to you as your legs suddenly feel weak.

Make no mistake, your reaction isn't fear by the violence you witness, far from it. Rather, it is because of the sudden wave of arousal you feel as you watch Wriothesley pin the troublemaker underneath him, pulling his arms behind his back to cuff him.

Fuck. For a split second, you wish you could trade places with the inmate.

'...What in the world. Get a hold of yourself!'

You shake your head in an attempt to clear the indecent thoughts... Which proves to be futile at the way the stern and cold look of your lover melts into a soft and warm one when his eyes turn to you. All while 'adjusting' his loose tie, aka pulling it lower and revealing a bit more of his scarred skin that you adore kissing it.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Sorry, did that scare you?"

His duality makes you crazy horny-- t-that is, deeply in love with him!

"No! No, no, I wasn't scared! I was just, um... feeling a little faint due to the heat, yes!"

You wave a hand in front of you make it more believable... which don't seem to be working very we'll, seeing the frown on Wriothesley's face. So you start your plan B: run away.

"Ah, I-I better go deliever this documents to Monsieur Neuvillette then. Seeyouathomeloveyoubye!"

Wriothesley watches as you scurry off to the elevator, clutching the files in your arms like a lifeline. He shakes his head, a hand covering the grin.

"Oh darling, you're too easy to read."

----------

"Y-You mean-- ahh, that you k-knew all along?!"

"How could I not, when your eyes were almost begging me to fuck you? You should reward me for my self control, sweetheart."

Any retort you had dissolve into a shaky moan when Wriothesley curls his two fingers inside your core, hitting that deep spot that turns your brain into mush.

You want grasp the sheets, you want to scratch his back, you want to cover your face, ANYTHING. But you can't, not with your hands locked with his handcuffs to the bedpost. You hate it and you love it.

"Wrioooo..."

"Now, now princess, don't tug the handcuffs so hard, it'll hurt you and we can't have that." His free hand trails up your arms, lightly dragging his nails to make you shiver at the ticklish feeling, until he holds your wrists in place. "Be a good girl and focus on me, yeah?"

Jokes on him, that's what you've been doing the whole day. Thinking about your dear boyfriend, his sweet personality, his cute adoration for tea, his godly body, his great strength and how you wished for nothing more than to be bent over his desk and--

"C-Close, close... Gonna-!" Your babbles are interrupted by a gasp, Wriothesley's fingers speeding up and his palm brushing against your clit over and over that it takes just a few seconds for you to see white, body taut, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure washes over you.

The Duke slows down his movement until his hand stops completely, kissing your temple and cooing at you when you whine at his fingers leaving you empty.

You sigh when his mouth meets yours in a languid kiss, helping your heartbeat return to normal... until it races again when you realize his lips going down, down and down your body...

"W-Wrio... what are you-- Ahh!" You squeal at the sudden cold sensation in your sensitive pussy, attempting to wiggle your hips away. Your very mean lover just chuckles, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs and drags you back to his face, the asshole shooting you a smirk after he uses cold tongue to lick your folds again.

"Surely you didn't think I'd stop at one round, after you used your bedroom eyes at me the whole day, right? So..."

"Don't run away now, sweetheart."

"W-What did you say?!"

"...I said, don't let any of it, the treasure, roll away now."

Your lover looks at you with a quizzical look, not comprehending your unusual reaction to his words. You, on the other hand, are silent praying to all the Seven archons for your face to not be as red as you think it is.

In any case, you decide to turn your back to Alhaitham to get the rest of the treasure inside the chest, while he keeps on look out for any other hilichurl or abyss monsters lurking around.

You see, it's not common for you two to go adventure together around Sumeru, much less to see the scribe in action with your own eyes. So, you can't be blamed when you've been too distracted by the way his toned arms flex as he swings his sword(s), his cape gracefully flowing at each movement, the focused expression as the Chisel-Light Mirrors cut down the enemies...

Anyway, you were far too busy gawking over your boyfriend and how unfairly hot he is to actually notice the chest spawning right in front of you. And those words that he had said? It's no surprise your mind went to the gutter.

You just hope you weren't acting so obviously down bad for him as you fear...

----------

"So good... Always so good to me. Fuck, I'm getting close...!"

You really don't know how you got here. The memories from returning to Sumeru City from adventuring in the wilderness to being on your knees, sucking on Alhaitham's cock while in his office are a blur.

But, honestly? You can't bring yourself to care about these minor details.

You drag your head back slowly, torturously forcing the man above you to feel every inch of your mouth until only the tip, angry red and drooling pre cum, remains inside.

The harsh suck you give at the sensitive area earns you a groan, a growl almost, that leaves you rubbing your thighs together. Looking up at your beloved, you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly, a pretty flush on his cheeks and eyes sending you a glare.

A side of you wants to be mean, to give him a taste of paradise before taking it away, just like he so adores to do with you. You want him to be frustrated, to beg you for release, a taste of his own medicine...

But you can't. You shouldn't.

Regardless of the locked door, anyone might come knocking, requiring the presence of the scribe for some unimportant business and, archons forbid, hear what is happening inside the office.

You try not to acknowledge the dampness of your panties from this thought.

And then you feel it, three taps of his fingers on the back of your head, the sign you two came up with to tell the other when you're about to cum.

You release his shaft with a "pop" and Alhaitham is ready to question your cruel actions, but whatever words he had wanted to say get thrown out of the window when you swallow him again without warning, taking as much of his cock as you can.

With one, two shallow thrusts of his hips, he paints your throat white with his release, head thrown back, eyes tightly shut and a moan that most certainly would be heard by everyone in the Akademiya halls had the scribe not covered his mouth.

You try, you swear to Celestia that you try your hardest to swallow every single drop of cum, but there's too much and you can control your breathing only for so long. With much dismay, your mouth lets go of the slowly softening member, covered with a mix of his seeds and your saliva.

Chuckling at your dejected look, Alhaitham raises your chin to make you look at him, thumb gathering the very same mix that has escaped from your mouth to smear it over your lips, his next words making you shiver in arousal but also embarrasment of the knowledge that he had known all along what had gone through your mind during your adventure earlier.

"Don't let any of it roll away now, my love."

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red wriothesley and alhaitham banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[kp-alice]

Romantic greed (the best kind). | sub!Yeosang smut

Word count: 1 191

Warnings: pegging, sub!yeosang x condescending!dom!reader (they're both into it, it's okay), the slightest bit of what could be considered a corruption kink (nothing creepy, though, obv), begging, slightly fluffy during some parts.

A/N: So, uh... this fic was not planned at all, lol. I'm currently working on a few longer fics which aren't anywhere near finished, but today I had the displeasure of listening to two insanely racist, homophobic and just generally ignorant people talking loudly on the train for two hours straight, and somehow my annoyance turned into this. Don't ask me how, the frustration just made me want to fuck a man, okay,?? Yeah, that's pretty much it. Hope you enjoy!!

A/N 2: Btw, this is part of a small event I did on both this blog and my other, more sfw one, @seohwang! Go check it out if you're interested in some Jongho fluff ♥

The bed rocked back and forth with your powerful thrusts, the bed frame grazing against the wall every now and then. Accompanying the squeaking of the cheap wood were Yeosang's breathy moans, sounding like absolute heaven to your ears. He was clutching the pillow in front of him as tightly as he could, occasionally burying his face into it to muffle any wanton whimpers. His back was arched just the way you liked it, showcasing his beautiful broad back with muscle rippling all over. You would have taken a picture if you could, the scene was so pretty. Oh well. For now, all you could do was burn the image in front of you into your memory and grip his hips even tighter.

Yeosang keened as you leaned over his back to whisper into his ear, the change in angle hitting all the right spots in him.

"Roll over for me, handsome."

He bit his lip at your words, feeling the blush already tinting his cheeks get even deeper. He'd never admit it, but he loved it when you treated him like eye candy. Just a little boy toy for you to indulge in. Not that you needed him to admit anything, his reactions to the pet names you'd throw his way were more than enough.

Feeling you pull out of him, Yeosang shuddered, forcing his limbs to cooperate. With weak arms and legs, he flipped over, instinctively spreading his legs for you to slot your body between them. And when you did so, he couldn't help but let out a calm, content sigh. The sight of you like this, leaned over his sluggish yet excited body with your equally as tired but aroused one, buzzing with love and eagerness to make the both of you feel as good as possible, was nothing short of breath-taking. He didn't care about what society deemed the right, conventional way of lovemaking. Because in this moment, and even afterwards as he'd likely be recalling this over and over in his head, everything just felt so right. He was yours and you were his, inside and out.

His hazy thoughts of adoration were halted, however, as he felt something prod at him again. His excitement quickly turned to confusion, though, as he realized it wasn't your strap this time. Though initially similar in shape, he noticed it was much thinner yet warmer. Looking down, he caught a glimpse of your two fingers just as they began slipping inside of him.

Yeosang let out a teary, malcontent whine, feeling the slowly building orgasm in him stagnate. "Wait, no! I want- I need your cock in me, please!" he begged, grinding down on your hand to chase after the dwindling pleasure. "I was getting so close, please please please, I need more than this!"

Your core ached hearing him beg, and his thrusts against your palm certainly weren't helping. Despite his hole already being prepped and fucked loose, you could still feel every clench of him around your fingers, only adding to your unending arousal. Leaning over him even more, you looked down at him in faux remorse, contrasting the way your hand started pushing even harder into him. "But I want to feel you some more, hun," you explained with a fake, patronizing pout, "the strap is fun and all, but I can't feel you squeezing me with it nearly as much as I can like this. I need to know I'm making my boy feel good, right?"

Yeosang whimpered at your explanation, knowing you weren't going to budge until he'd give in to your game. With one hand clutching the pillow under his head again, he brought the other down to his twitching, neglected cock. He tentatively wrapped his fingers around it, looking up to gauge your reaction. When you didn't say anything, he slowly began stroking himself, huffing a strained breath from finally getting at least a fraction of the pleasure he so craved.

But even then, his hand and your fingers curling inside of him just weren't enough.

"Y/N, please," he began again, suppressing all shame churning his stomach as he conceded at last. "Please, I really- fuck! I need it! Please fuck me again, I promise you can use your fingers on me later but I-" a suppressed cry slipped past his lips and his hips bucked up as you hit his prostate dead-on, "I really need to cum right now."

The moment he saw your smirk, he knew he was done for.

"Aww, you need to cum?" You asked condescendingly, to which he nodded abashedly. "And my fingers just aren't doing it anymore, are they? You need something more, huh," you adjusted your hand, fingers reaching just a little deeper now, "something bigger," scissoring the two digits, you felt Yeosang shiver again, "my cock."

Closing his eyes and clenching his jaw, he nodded vehemently, already getting excited again just at the thought of it. You chuckled at his response, unable to hide your genuine, giddy smile. Luckily, Yeosang couldn't see your facade breaking, too busy willing the blazing hot blush off his face and chest.

"I've really spoiled you, haven't I?" You asked rhetorically, curling your fingers inside of him a few more times before finally sliding out. "You used to get all sensitive and shy whenever you'd ask me to finger you, and look at you now."

Yeosang let out a small sniffle at your words, which quickly turned to a gasp as he finally felt the blunt tip of your strap press up against his clenching hole again.

"Now you're begging me to fuck you with my bigger strap because not even the other one can satisfy you anymore."

Yeosang whimpered as you finally slid back home, hands flying up and around your neck to hold on for dear life as you quickly returned to your original, rough pace.

Noticing he was too distracted by you inside of him to keep stroking himself, you decided to help him out with your free hand, the other holding tightly onto his hip.

Yeosang cried out weakly at the added stimulation, brain starting to fog over from the onslaught of pleasure. His nails dug into your back as you jostled him up on the bed with your thrusts, leaving pretty marks he knew you both would be marveling at in the mirror later.

"...but guess what, Sangie," you suddenly spoke up again, bringing your boyfriend out of his thoughts just as his mind was starting to get a little too hazy.

Taking a few shallow breaths, he dared his voice to answer, "w-what?"

Yeosang squealed the moment you fully leaned over him, resting your chest against his as you drove your strap right into his g-spot. His eyes squeezed shut at the electrifying feeling and he buried his face into your neck to breathe you in while his legs wrapped around your torso. His hands were still clutching onto you tightly, the tremble in them worsening the closer he got to his long-awaited orgasm of the night.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Thank you so much for reading! And remember, feedback is always appreciated!! <3

[forsworned]

I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY'S WATCHING ME ft. LOGAN WALKER

Warning(s): Sexual Content, Solo Sex (f.), Usage of Sex Toys, Voyeurism, AFAB!reader,

Author's note: @keegansshark because you inspired me!!!!

Being the Walker brother's third roommate is awfully quiet. In fact, half of your time here is spent apologizing about any ruckus you might be causing them whether it be your music, the loud clattering in the kitchen, or having a friend or two over. But they insist that it's fine. Giving you grand, boyish, heartthrob smiles that make you melt like a popsicle on a hot pavement.

Unlike Logan, Hesh is more outgoing, and talkative, and not staring you down from across the room when you're attempting to complete your work. He's asking you about your day, telling you to tag along with him and his brother when they go gyming and somehow is always sitting on the opposite end of the table when you're going out to eat, leaving you next to Logan every time.

And sometimes there's a sneaky, mischievous glance sent Logan's way followed by a pained expression that's stifled with laughter on his older's brother face.

But that was neither here nor there. However, upon finding out that the Walker brothers were going to spend the weekend out camping, you took it as an opportunity to be as noisy as you wanted. As much as you adored them, you felt relieved not having to walk on eggshells around them when it came to your sonorousness.

A deep exhale leaves your chest as your body hits your mattress. It had been a long week and you wanted nothing more than to unwind. Unfortunately, you didn't have a boyfriend to fuck your brains out so you settle for the vibrator in your locked drawer. You fish out the keys from your pocket and unlatch it. It wasn't a stellar collection of sex toys, more like just the essentials.

You decide upon your favorite, old reliable, first Eve's thruster and tug off your shorts and panties, tossing them carelessly to the side of your bed. It's a little depressing that you have to resort to such methods, but it was going to be a long weekend, so what better way to start it off then with some solo sex?

You turn it in and slowly work yourself up and the image of Logan flits into your mind. How good he would feel between your legs right now, filling you up with his cock and gazing down at you with those pretty hazel eyes of his. It's hardly been a few minutes before you feel yourself sopping at the mere notion of him touching you, and you're sliding the vibrator past your folds imagining that it's him inside of you.

His name spills from your lips over and over again, so sticky sweet, and delectable to the ears of any man if they had the pleasure of listening in on you.

So luckily for Logan, he's back at the apartment complex, fumbling with his keys to unlock the door after Hesh had forgotten to pack propane fuel. It isn't a huge deal, certainly not enough to sour his mood. An earnest mistake that Logan is more than willing to make up for for his older brother.

Too entranced by your own euphoria, you don't hear the door unlocking, nor it opening and the footsteps that follow, but Logan certainly hears your wanton breathy moans, reverberating into the hallways leading to the living room. He halts dead in his tracks and he's pondering about how he should approach the situation. He's thinking that maybe you happen to be watching a movie with a sex scene and it will pass at any moment. But it's past five minutes now and he's thinking otherwise.

His heart thuds against his chest as he stands there completely paralyzed, but his body isn't the only rigid thing. If it weren't obvious to you yet, Logan had a raging crush on you, and Hesh would be happy to take any opportunity to tease him about it. So the sound of you moaning is definitely getting him riled up. His eyes dart to the propane that sat on the kitchen island where stupid Hesh had left it and he's quietly making his way over to grab it and leave without alerting you, but then he hears you calling out his name. And then, again, and again and again.

As each passing second ticks by, the urgency in your whimpers intensifies, and Logan's legs seem to act autonomously, losing sight of their original purpose. He silently stalks to the ajar door of your bedroom and his eyes ream at your sopping, wet pussy out for display, hammering away at it with your hot pink, dildo that's thrusting into you. You're throwing your head back in pure rapture and his dick fully bricked up on sight. His Adam's apple bobs up and down, swallowing thickly as he absentmindedly palms at his dick.

It's so fucking wrong. And he's so aware of that, but it doesn't stop him from burning the image of you getting yourself off to him in his mind. His desire to step into the room is magnifying by the minute, but he holds himself back. The way your mouth is parting as you reach your climax is so, so, so delicious. The salacious sighs that escape you drive him wild and honestly, he could cum right now. It wouldn't even take long. One touch from that pretty mouth of yours and he would be coloring you a pretty, ivory white.

And just when you're about to orgasm, the creak of your door jostles you, stopping you mid-thrust and you could almost die when you see Logan's form leaning against the doorway. The blood drains from your face as you take in his unbuttoned jeans, undone zipper, and his hand slipping into his boxers. His hazel eyes might just be as wide as yours and the embarrassing sound of your machine is still going off and you practically rip it out of you, but your unexpected orgasm reels you in for a moment. It halts you as your bach archs and you gasp out in a fervent daze. It's humiliating as you gawk at your pulsating, drenched pussy in horror and you're scrambling to get up and somehow apologize??? But by the time you can even catch your breath to pull on your shorts, you hear the front door slam.

You make a dash for the window to see, Logan climb into Hesh's truck and they seem to be having a brief conversation before they're back on the road. The blood is rushing to your face as you watch them pull away. Oh God. What were you going to do!?

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

-

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

-

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at  the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

-

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.  

-

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

-

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

-

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety.  “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

-

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

-

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

-

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.” He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

-

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.  

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

 “Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @names-were-taken @bl4ckt00thgr1n

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Only Boo!

*kicks down the door* I'm a few weeks late but I have arrived and I am here to yell about this fucking adorable show. Have you heard that it's the cutest shit you've ever seen in a fresh new package of all your favorite silly old romance tropes? Besties, this is truly the Sunday Serotonin we need. Here are the top 10 things I love about it:

The main romance is between a confident sunshine protagonist and a kind older boy working through his grief and an artistic block. Mok (Moo) and Kang are such nice boys, two cinnamon rolls too sweet and pure for this world, and I loved them instantly. They have a nice crackly chemistry between them and really solid communication right from the start.

The setting is rural and refreshing. Moo moves to Nakhom Pathom to attend school for a semester because his mom wants him to focus on his studies before she will allow him to pursue a career as an idol. Little did she know she was delivering him to a cute boy who would become the new distraction.

The crushing and flirting starts immediately, and it's mutual. They just like each other, man. Kang is (slightly) older and trying to be responsible about keeping Moo focused on his studies so he's putting up some token resistance, but it's very very token. They both find excuses to keep seeing each other after they meet.

There's a side couple with a long-term pining friends to lovers arc. The way I squealed when they revealed that photo wall. I support you, Payos, you will get your boo. These two also have a lovely, easy chemistry and seem so comfortable around each other. Their characterization also gets a fun twist in the beginning of the story.

The writing is strong and assured. This was written by the same screenwriting team as Cooking Crush, aka the best written original Thai bl of last season. These folks know their way around a smart romcom. They know how to deploy classic tropes so they feel fresh, build authentic character arcs, and make all the beats of the story feel confident. We are in good hands and don't need to worry about any out of left field conflicts or weird plot turns with this one.

A fresh new cast brings a ton of energy. I really love all four of the main actors for this show. They're young and bright and breathing some new life into an old formula. And both pairs have solid chemistry and seem comfortable in their scenes together.

Some of our old favorites are here too. They've made the smart decision to bolster the young main cast by surrounding them with more experienced seniors like our lady Milk, here playing Kang's friend and neighbor who is all up in his crush on Moo. Louis and Book are also going to show up at some point.

The show incorporates music and dancing in such a charming way. Moo is one of those kids who just has to dance, and the show mines a lot of comedy around his efforts to stifle the impulse as his mom ordered. I don't think he'll hold out for long, though, because Payos and Tae are on him to train with them. And of course the music supervisor is having a great time working in some classic GMMTV music gags (yes, Love Score and Too Cute To Handle both make memorable appearances).

It's a high school story brimming with youthful energy without being mired in immaturity. The tone of this show reminds me of My School President in the best way, in that it has all the sweetness and innocence of a high school romance without making the characters so immature and bad at communication that it's annoying to watch. As expected from the CC writers, these characters may be inexperienced but they are going to talk to each other and honesty will prevail every time.

We are only three episodes in and the romance is already well underway. This is the kind of show where we will see the main pair flirt and date and face obstacles together. The swoony moments started immediately and Moo is already throwing around the faen title. We know from the synopsis that the core conflict will come when Moo is forced to choose between his relationship with Kang and his dream of being an idol, and I expect he will be finding a way around that choice. I'll be strapped in for the ride because I already believe in these two.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

୨୧ ｓｔｒａｗｂｅｒｒｙ ｊｕｌｉｕｓ ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x chubby!fem!reader x boyfriend!namjoon

୨୧ Genre: fluff, smut, rocker au/crime au combo

୨୧ Summary: The night of an event you've been stressing out about for weeks, you find stress relief in an unexpected but welcome place.

୨୧ Word Count: 2.4k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: unprotected sex, double penetration, double creampie, anal, light choking, dirty talk, pet names, strong language (I can be a potty mouth, sry), pet names (love, baby), dom vibes if you squint, & that's all I think.

୨୧ A/N: I really wanted to mix two of my favorite au's with two of my favorite people so here we are. There's definitely gonna be a part two because my brain won't shut up about this. Anyway, I hope you like it my loves 🖤

Punk music blares from the speakers in your living room, the distorted strumming of guitars and brutal drumming enough to shake the walls of your two story home. Playing your music as loud as you want whenever you want. One of the few perks that come with living on the edge of the city where your nearest neighbor's an elderly woman a mile down the road who never uses her hearing aid.

A hearing aid. You’ll need one any day now if you keep this up but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re having the time of your life fresh out of the shower, dancing around in your towel while you tear your closet apart to find an outfit for the party tonight. Everything has to be perfect. Your hair. Your outfit. Your makeup. Jungkook says you’re perfect already. That everything else is just decoration.

With all the effort he put into getting your band invited to this party, your “decoration” needs to be more memorable than ever. Everyone who’s anyone on the punk scene will be there tonight. From journalists to producers to some of the women who inspired you to start a band to begin with. The pressure to make a lasting impression is insane and the precise reason you’re running on 4 hours of sleep right now. You’ve been moving non-stop since this morning, trying to outrun your doubts and insecurities.

“Love, slow down. Let me help you” Jungkook whispered in those moments he caught you burning yourself out. You don't know what you'd do without the sweetheart that he is. Digging through your top drawer you pull out a pair of fishnets, the ones he can't get enough of, and you're instantly reminded of the other side of him. Thoughts of all the filthy things you’ve done in these fishnets bring a tingle to your cheeks that spreads between your thighs like wildfire. 

“Not tonight” you say to yourself, tossing them back in, “I’ll never be able to focus.” Shaking off vivid memories of being fucked against the questionably clean mirror of a dive bar last weekend, you continue to raid your closet, carelessly making a mess that’ll be a problem for future you to deal with.

“Baby!” Jungkook shouts, stepping through the front door twirling his keys around his fingers. His heavy black combat boots hit the hardwood like the steps of a giant as he marches over to the speaker and turns the music down. “Baby! Where are you?” There’s an adorable pitter patter of feet from above before your voice sounds from the top of the stairs. “I’m here! Get everything you needed from the store?” 

His brain glitches. The store? Oh, yeah. That lie he told you about needing to run to the store for something. You never pressed him for specifics. A testament to the level of trust you have in him. Trust that hopefully won’t be shattered by the fact that he lied his ass off. He cuts his eyes at the tall man looming by the door, knowing that his presence is the only thing that’ll redeem him. 

“Uh, yeah, I did” he lies, appearing at the bottom of the stairs, “Could you come here for a second?” Without bothering to answer, you skip down the stairs, only hitting the second to last step before he has his arms around your plush figure. The towel bunches up around your waist, raising your towel just enough to allow your ass to poke out the bottom. He can’t resist brushing his fingers along the softness of your ass.

A move that reignites that tingling you felt earlier and has your lips latching onto his before he can say another word. Jungkook dives right in, shoving his hands beneath your towel to hungrily grip handfuls of your curves. There’s no time for this but he’ll make it. He has to. Something about you drowns out his reason. He’d postpone his own funeral if it meant he got to touch you one last time. 

“Does everyone who comes over get to watch or am I just special?” Namjoon teases, slamming the front door shut. Jungkook’s stomach sinks, suddenly remembering what he’d actually left the house to pick up. Yours sinks even lower. That voice. It hasn’t lived within these walls for years. Jungkook steps back, waving Joon over. “I, uh, got something extra from the store.” 

A half dozen emotions brew inside of you, none of them identifiable. You only know that your feet are glued to the ground. That your mouth is drier than it's ever been and your heart’s beating in your throat. Joon approaches you, his arms outstretched to welcome you into a hug. When you don’t budge, your pouty bottom lip the only part of you able to move, he pulls you into his arms anyway.

The strength of his hug, the love laced within it, heals something inside of you that has your vision going hazy with tears. Lifting you from the stairs, Joon brings you between him and Jungkook. They hug you from both sides the way they used to before Joon went away. 4 years in prison. Light work for washing dirty money but an eternity for your close knit trio. You haven’t laid eyes on him since that last day in court.

He’d only let Jungkook come visit, insisting that you shouldn’t be in a place like that. You lost count of the hours you spent in tears hating him for keeping you away but loving him too much for the feeling to ever stick. Your Joon didn’t belong locked away with killers and god knows who else. Everything he did, everything you did together, was to survive. He'd never hurt anyone and knowing he might be surrounded by people who would made being kept at a distance sting that much more.

There was no way you and Jungkook would’ve survived without each other. Him losing his best friend and you losing one of your loves. No matter how far your careers advanced, how nice this house was, or how much money you had tucked under the floorboards in the attic, nothing could change how incomplete you feel. How incomplete you felt.

“Ouch!” Joon cries, jumping when you pinch his side, “What was that for?” “What the fuck are you doing here?” you shout, wiping the tears from your eyes. Joon just laughs, “I still live here don’t I?” “Duh, you idiot! But you’re not supposed to—your release is months away—I thought—” You turn to Jungkook who grabs your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours before you pinch him too.

“Early release. I was gonna tell you, I just thought it’d be a fun surprise. Plus you were so freaked out about tonight. I just didn’t wanna psych you out. You mad at me?” Jungkook pouts, those brown puppy dog eyes pulling you in like they always do. “I’m not mad” you huff, rolling your eyes while leaning in to let him peck you on the cheek. Joon kisses you on the neck from behind, his large smooth hands massaging your tense shoulders.

You reach back, running your palm across his buzz cut hair, “I like the new hair. It’s kinda hot.” “Only kinda?” he asks, nipping at your neck, revenge for that pinch earlier. His hands slide down, patiently rounding your curves to reach your exposed thighs. “Stop” you giggle, a chill running up your spine, “I have to get ready.” Jungkook pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time. “We can always help you get ready” he grins, pushing his knee between your thighs to make enough space for Joon to run two fingers over your slit.

“It’s so wet down there” Joon hums, “Is that just from the shower or—.” Twisting free, you rush back up the stairs, stopping halfway up to glance back at them. “I still need to do my hair.” Jungkook shrugs, taking two steps toward you, “I’m pretty good with hair.” You swallow hard, wiping your sweaty palms on your towel. “And…and my makeup.” Joon tilts his head to see you better, “I can do that.”

Why are they like this? So annoyingly persistent. It’s not like you don’t want it. The thought had crossed your mind to have a quickie with Jungkook when you were standing in your bedroom zoning out with those fishnets in your hand. With Joon back you find yourself wanting it even more. Those feelings that overcame you are much clearer now. Passion. Love. Lust. Joy. All fighting for dominance and right now one in particular’s winning.

Look at them. They’re both so fucking handsome. And the closer they get the harder it is to ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in. “Just a kiss” it whispers as Jungkook catches up to you, his lips dangerously close to yours. You close your eyes as your lips meet, his tongue snaking against yours. One kiss. Just one.

Joon dreamt of being with you like this again. Him lying across the bed, pillows beneath him to keep him at the perfect angle to lower you into his lap. Fingers digging into the plush of your hips, he guides his length, coated in lube from base to tip, to that gorgeous ass he got a few nibbles of when you first took your towel off. “Joon…ah” you gasp, biting down on your bottom lip as the warm tip penetrates your tight hole.

Anal was never Jungkook’s thing. Seeing those cute heart shaped butt plugs you liked to wear when he had you bent over was the extent of his interest. Joon on the other hand had always been insatiable and time hasn’t changed that. “Fuck, still so tight for me” he groans out in pleasure, the tightness of your ass choking his dick the deeper he goes.

When he finally bottoms out, you fall back onto his bare chest moaning weakly, drool already leaking from the corners of your mouth. Earlier your body wouldn't even move. Now you can’t stop it from trembling, the fullness overwhelming you enough to turn your brain to soup.  Joon locks an arm around your waist, the other coming around so he can palm your breast. 

“Missed you” he whispers, rocking beneath you at a pace slow enough for his and your sanity. Your hand skims his forearm, nails digging in when he does a slight bounce to mess with you. He’s definitely put on some weight while he was away. Whatever they were feeding him, whatever weights he was lifting, you approve because he’s stronger than you ever knew him to be and you’re loving it.

“You sure you can take both of us?” Jungkook taunts, shifting his weight on the bed to hover between your legs. He places a hand on your knee, dipping two fingers into your core. He's achingly hard, twitching, leaking precum on the blankets at the sight of how wet you are. Your pussy glistens so beautifully, your walls clenching around his fingers while Joon fucks your other hole. Jungkook awaits your answer but he’s only met with your needy moans and cries.

“You have to say something, baby” he says, his thumb strumming your clit, “Tell me what you want.” The hand on your knee comes around your neck, his hold on you firm yet gentle. Joon slows his movements, offering you a second—and only that—to get your thoughts together. “Come on, you can do it. Tell us what you want.” Jungkook’s fingers are still working inside of you, mercilessly milking your g-spot.

“I…I can take it” you whine, forcing the words from your throat, “Fill me up. Please. Want it so bad. So bad.” “That’s my girl” Jungkook smiles, popping his fingers out of you. You watch as he strokes himself, using your arousal as lubricant. Joon’s hips begin to move again, leaving you pulsing in two places at once. Your clit stiffens as Jungkook rubs his tip between the silken folds of your warmth, sinking into you without warning. 

They take turns thrusting into you, one then the other, making sure you feel every arch and defining vein along their shafts. This perfect dance of pleasure and overstimulation has you crying out, tears leaking from watery eyes. Incoherent moans flow out into the ether and it’s not just you, it's them too. You can’t get enough of it, rotating your hips as best you can to pull the dirtiest noises out of them. Joon pulls your head back to kiss you and the moment you break for air Jungkook’s kissing you too, suspending you in a constant state of breathlessness. 

You’ve forgotten all about the party, your worries reduced to nothing by the ecstasy of this unexpected reunion. There’s nowhere else you want to be but here between the men you love, tension winding in your belly. You whine something between Joon’s lips and they just know what it is. Letting go of your throat, Jungkook slips his hand between your waist and his, rubbing your clit to push you over the edge. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” you scream, ears ringing as juices stream from your core, making the sound of your bodies snapping together even sharper. 

You feel weightless, disembodied, floating above yourself, jerked back to reality only by the pressure of Joon coming inside of you. You hold his hand, pressing down onto him as you kiss him over your shoulder. At the same time you’re tugging at Jungkook’s hair, keeping him flush against you. “Harder” he begs, his thrusts growing sloppier the harder you pull. One final tug has him unraveling, another wave of warmth filling you just as the other fades away.

The energy in the room gradually comes down, heavy panting turning to light breaths as you cuddle beside each other, your sweat slicked bodies still tangled together. “Still need help with your hair?” Jungkook asks, lovingly petting your head. Joon peeks over to find you sleeping more peacefully than you have in years. He kisses you on the forehead, pulling the blanket over you. “I don’t think so.”

[pha55ed]

Everything I Know Abt Love || JMM21

type :: fluff tw/cw :: dumbass painfully oblivious!reader (their so me-coded) summary :: reader has been crushing on pepe since they were children, but is trying to get over their crush with a different driver. but that's impossible because it's fucking josep maria marti.

request :: can you write smth with pepe marti :D was thinkin something along the lines of the song “everything i know about love” by laufey. heavy mutual pining with an eventual confession and pure fluff <3 ur page is so nice and ur writing is so so so good 🫶 (AHH thank you so much! <3 you're so sweet!)

liked by jakcrawford, christianmansell, sebastianmontoya, and 82,000 others

yourusername : Alexa, play So American by Olivia Rodrigo

yourbestfriend : YOU GOT ICECREAM WITHOUT ME???

yourbestfriend : wait a minute... 🤨

yourbestfriend : IS THAT A MAN....???

yourbestfriend : IS THAT P...?

yourbestfriend : Noooo girl i need to update you so bad

jakcrawford : Your flavor looks like charcoal dust LMAO

yourusername : it looked purple under the store's lighting 😭😭

christianmansell : where's my thank you???

sebastianmontoya : what... 😀

pepemarti : same... 😀 sebastianmontoya : im coming over christianmansell : wait why??? sebastianmontoya : YOU CAUSED THIS YOU IDIOT

The date with Jak was sweet, almost perfect. He picked you up and called you beautiful, gifting you flowers. The entire time he was respectful, listening to you, and making you laugh. He was cute too, curly brown hair and an adorable smile. Everything should led to you liking him. Yet you couldn't.

The entire time you were still stuck on Pepe. Thinking about how Pepe would have gotten you flowers, but in your favorite color. How Pepe's hair was much softer despite being shorter. Not to mention that Pepe's smile is your favorite thing ever. It's not Jak's fault, he was lovely in every way possible. But you just couldn't imagine loving anyone else beside Pepe.

You grew up with Pepe, meeting at 11 year olds from watching your brother in karting. The rest is history. You met his friends and quickly formed a quad, with Pepe, you, Sebastian, and Christian. Throughout your entire childhood, you had a fat crush on him. But you could never tell if he liked you back or not.

But to Chris and Sebastian, it was painful to watch you both. They could tell that you both liked each other, maybe even loved each other. But you both were so awkward with each other that it seemed like you were friend-zoning each other.

Like for example, Chris and Sebastian tried to set you up both up by making a fake hangout. They planned a whole day of going to the beach and eating dinner, only for them both to get "sick" last minute. So it was just you and Pepe alone for the whole day, going to the beach and a fancy dinner.

Yet you guys still managed to turn one of the most romantic scenes into the most goofy and awkward. Collecting seashells, seeing who can hold their breathe longer underwater, and making a mess at dinner like you two were just clumsy and awkward best friends. When in reality, both of you were on the verge of a heart attack every time you accidentally touched.

So now you were stuck, alone in your room. Torn between either moving on or sticking with Pepe.

You barely had any time to think to yourself, because the very next day you were forced to attend the boys' Racing Sponsor party. Although you never liked going, it was fun with your friends and the food was always amazing. The only major cons was that the party was filled with business people trying to network and get new sponsors, but they usually left you alone once you just said you were a friend of the drivers.

So now instead of being alone in your room, with your thoughts eating away at your brain - you were alone at the large dining table. Seb promised to stay by your side, but he was pulled away by his engineers to try and talk to a fancy gasoline company so they could sponsor him. Chris also promised to stay besides you, but he was also forced away to go to a special engineering company. Pepe and Jak were also busy doing a ton of interviews and connections, they were very sought after.

You sighed, unable to help but just sit in your boredom as you picked at your food. Now you were wishing that those annoying business men would try to talk to you again just so you have something to do. Using your phone wasn't an option either, 1. because it's rude to do and 2. because your dress didn't have pockets so you stupidly gave it to Seb to hold onto.

But just as you were about to count the petals dead floral centerpiece in front of you, Jak sat next to you. Fuck, you thought.

"Hey!" He said, wearing a black tux just like everyone else in the room. "You look so bored haha"

His small chuckle was charming and cute, he was so "boy-next-door" coded. Jak's curls were a bit more defined and his suit had almost no imperfections on it. He obviously paid deep attention to his suit. You watched as he started to fiddle with his tie slightly as he sat next to you. It was clear he was a bit nervous around you, trying to put up a good first impression still.

"I can't lie, I am a bit bored." You say with a smile at his attentive nature. "I'm just waiting for it to be over so we can all go out and play games at Chris's house."

"We?" He asks, quoting you before connecting the dots as to who 'we' was. "Oh! You, Pepe, Chris, and Seb, right?" Jak tilts his head slightly, like a dog.

You simply nod, taking a mental note of how much of Jak resembles a golden doodle. One of the cute golden doodles, not the ones' with ugly human eyes. You wanted so badly to like him. It wasn't like you weren't aware of how cute and sweet he was. Yet your brain just wouldn't allow yourself to feel a spark between you two.

"Well uh, would it be okay if I joined?" Jak asked nervously, looking in your eyes.

Before you could answer, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Although you hated how embarrassing it was to admit, you could already tell who was touching you just by the fingertips and vein on the back of the hand: Pepe Marti.

"NnnnooOOO!" Pepe said, making you want to laugh but you knew it would hurt Jak's feelings. It was clear he had quite a few drinks, most likely due to the businessmen always pressuring the drivers to have a few shots. Mainly so they could take advantage of their drunken state and get them to sign any deal they wanted.

"Oh uh..." Jak sat their awkwardly, looking at how close Pepe's body was to yours despite him hovering above your chair. "Hi Pepe,,,"

"Hi JAK!!!" Pepe said, quite loudly, "Or should I say JAK - ASS!!! Hahaha,,, ha..."

Pepe's entire fucking head and neck turned to you, trying to see if you laughed at his awful joke. When he sees that you didn't laugh, his smile instantly died. You could tell that he was cringing at himself.

You knew you needed to get Pepe out of the room, before he does anything stupid. So you quietly excused yourself from Jak, apologizing for Pepe's lame joke. Although Pepe was perfectly able to walk over to you and Jak, all of the sudden he began to act as if he's never walked in his life. So he clung onto your waist, using that as support while you both exited the party.

It didn't make much sense for him to hold your waist for support. Holding onto your shoulders or even your head would make much more sense - but he insisted on holding your waist. But you weren't going to complain when he hand perfectly fitted there. And you definitely weren't going to complain when he was pulling you closer to his body on instinct, as if he was a magnet attracted to you.

You struggled to get his tall body into your small car. But you did it. Now you had to struggle with getting the buckle on him. Not that he's fat, far from it, he's quite lanky and lean. The struggle came from the fact that Pepe was insisting that he should drive. That the man should always drive the woman home. He even drunkenly giggled and said, "If I driveee, then we couldd kiss at red lightssss!"

He said that while looking up at you with a shit eating grin. As if he was trying to see if you would blush at his joke, which you did. And as if his cute giggle and smile weren't enough, he did a stupid little fist bump in the air after making you giggle, as if it was an accomplishment. He has never ever been this flirty with you, making you unsure of how to handle him.

You can't help but laugh even more at his stupid acts. And from your laughter, Pepe finally sat still for once. He was stuck in his seat, staring at you, completely star struck. His big dark eyes starring up at you while you giggled, he looked as if he's seen the Northern lights. His lips were slightly parted, mainly because he was tired from fighting you away from buckling him, but also because his breathe was genuinely taken away from his lungs.

And that's when you felt something click in you.

At that exact moment, when Pepe was looking up at you with big puppy eyes and kissable kips - you realized that you would never ever be able to replace Pepe. You would never be able to settle and date Jak just to move on from Pepe. Because in one single moment of Pepe barely saying anything, he made you feel more cherished than Jak did within your entire day. Because in one single moment of Pepe's eyes staring in yours, you felt your heart pound faster than it ever did when Jak gently held your hand at night.

You knew you needed to tell Jak soon. Although you knew that you and Pepe weren't an item yet, you were determined to get him to be yours. And for the first time within almost a decade - you felt as if you had a chance with him.

As you dragged Pepe behind you, you safely managed to get him up the stairs and into his apartment. It was a cozy place, with tan and beige furniture decorating the place. There were photos hung up of his friends and family, shelves filled with comic books and gifts from fans. It felt warm, homey despite it not being your home.

Due to Pepe's strong grip on you, as if he was glued to you, you were forced to throw him roughly onto his couch. You sighed out of relief from finally getting him to settle down. You were beat, ready to go sleep asap. Meanwhile Pepe was the exact opposite. He was still giggling and giddy despite there being nothing funny happening.

His smile was permanently on his face, but you weren't complaining. As you slumped down next to him, you could still smell the alcohol in his breathe. He lazily threw his hand on your thigh, looking at you before saying "You're so farrr".

The lazy grip he had on your thigh quickly turned into an overpowering grip, as he easily pulled you all the way close to him. Even though he got what he wanted, you being right beside him, his hand didn't leave your thigh. You were left in shock, never ever seeing this side of him. He's been drunk around you before, but never this drunk. You're lost on why he felt the need to get so drunk today, especially when he knew being drunk was a huge no-no at sponsor parties.

When Pepe saw your eyes widen, he instantly copied your expression. His hand left your thigh in a flash and he scooted away from you by a foot. "I'm sorry, did you not like that???" He asked, his words not slurring as much.

"No no, it's okay." You said as you looked at him, his shoulders relaxing at your words. You wish you could say the same, your shoulders were killing you now from having to bring Pepe up a whole flight of stairs.

Rolling your shoulders didn't help the ache, making you slightly wince at the soreness. Pepe, despite still being drunk, could tell it was because of him. He looked guilty, scooting a bit closer to you.

"I'm sorry," He said softly, the most gentle you've heard him all night. "I shou' have gone home on my own."

You shook your head, "Definitelyyy not, you would have crashed your car into a family of five or something."

"Better than hurting you," He said almost in a whisper. You watched his face scrunch up. He let out a light burp and threw his head back onto the couch. "God I feel awful already."

On instinct, you were about to get off the couch and get him some pain medication. But Pepe's arm shot out, blocking you from getting up.

"Not physically." He says, "But,,, mentally."

You tilt your head slightly, confused at what he meant. He looked into your eyes, able to tell that you had zero clue at all what he meant. A sigh left his lips, as if he was tired despite him being the one that got dragged up a flight of stairs and a ride home.

"I'm sure you'll feel awful physically soon." You say, "But why do you feel hurt, mentally?"

"I just," Pepe's voice was stuck, unsure of how to word himself. He let out a few murmurs but it wasn't actual words. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol making him unable to speak or if Pepe just didn't know how to word what he was thinking. You were assume it was both.

He knew he wouldn't be able to outright state what he was feeling, so instead he opted for questions. "(Y/N), be honest with me." You nodded, shifting in your seat to face him. His tone sounded serious. "How do you feel about Jak?"

You assume he must have felt awful mentally for his rude jokes to Jak. "Oh, Jak is cool. If you're worried about your joke to him, I'm sure he'll just brush it off."

"Are you close now?" Pepe asks, completely ignoring your answer to his question. "After that date you guys had, seemed like fun." He says, his eyes not looking at yours. As if he was too scared to make eye contact with you.

"Um, it was fun. But I mean, I didn't feel a spark or anything-"

"Don't lie."

You were frozen, unsure of what to say. "I'm not lying...?"

"I see how you laugh at his jokes, how he looks at you, how you smile at him." Pepe says slowly, "Do you think you like him?"

His tone was so serious that you were caught off guard. But you knew the answer to his question now, thankfully you realized it this night. "No, I think we're just gonna be friends. He seems super sweet and nice, but not for me-"

"Then who is for you?" Pepe asks, this time looking at you. There was no smile on his face, instead a look of investigation. A look that seemed as if he was trying to put a mask on, to protect his feelings from getting hurt.

You knew the answer to this question to. But you weren't able to say. All you were able to do was stare into Pepe's eyes, watching them soften as he looked at you. You swallowed and broke the eye contact, feeling too intimate to keep staring into his dark eyes.

While you were looking away, Pepe scooted back close to you. Your knees touching. Although your head was still turned away, too flustered to look at him and unwilling to give him an answer. Pepe was staring right at you, his entire torso turned towards you to examine your whole body and features.

You didn't want to turn your head around and face him. You could tell that if you did, your faces would be only a few inches away from each other. Close enough to make your breathes touch each other faces. Although you were trying to look away from him, his hand gently reached for your face. There was no pressure in his grip, instead it was lightly guiding your head to face him.

Now your faces were close, eyes locked in, and bodies only a few inches apart. You looked at him, holding your breathe in fear that it stank from eating. His eyes and face were no longer tense, it was soft and looked as if he was pleaded. It looked as if he about to beg you for something, which he did:

"Please, please say it's me." He said in a whisper.

[finnfrei]

I would love to hear more about your bard and her dragonborn 🥺👉👈

Aww, thank you so much for asking! Tbh, I always feel shy sharing the stories of my OCs, so I really appreciate your interest🩵

Where do I even begin? (Also, English is not my first or even second language, so I apologize for my poor writing in advance).

Clio is my changeling bard from our current homebrew DnD campaign and she’s the little ray of sunshine, who’s hiding her trauma behind a cheerful innocent smile. Or at least she used to be up until the party’s current adventure in Avernus. Quite early in life she realized how easy it is to lure secrets from people, when you look cute and play dumb.

Once she set out on an adventure with the party, she had a dream. A charming stranger in a dragon mask at a ball challenged her to play a complex composition. Non of what she saw on the music sheet he gave her made sense, it couldn’t sound good. But Clio was not the one to fuck around with and she started playing, struggling at first, but getting the grip of it. As the music played, the dirty secrets of people in the room started to reveal themselves to her overflowing her mind. The man asked her to meet him in the house of upper city where the party was headed.

That was how she met him, the man in the mask wasn’t a man she saw in the dream, but an emerald Dragonborn. Hescan was a commander of Secret Police and Master of College of Whispers. This tough mountain of muscles with cold gaze and devious grin was barely showing any genuine emotions. It felt familiar, she’s so used to putting on a mask herself, different ones, but still. He played cool and unbothered. Some even might say he looked dangerous, but Clio had met dangerous, cruel men way too many times before and wasn’t so easily fooled by him. She found it adorable on him. The feeling of safety around him puzzled her. He suggested her to work for him, collecting information, dragging skeletons out of others closets. She thought it would be fun to finally get paid for something she does anyway, never taking the job too seriously though. And well, girl asked for the direction of the nearest brothel, hoping to get some intelligence from local prostitutes, knowing full well about the amount of secrets kept by all the creatures, who aren’t taken seriously by rich and powerful. However, the dragonborn jokingly suggested her his bedroom. Joke got out of control. Bards being bards, I guess.

It all started with both of them trying to get intimate, “have fun” just to let down the other’s guard to get under their skin and lure more secrets from each other. Learn each other’s weaknesses, but also trying to secure the other’s loyalty. Hescan was playing cool and distant, meanwhile Clio was taunting him any time she saw an opportunity, shamelessly trying the limits of his patience. She liked to call him “pretty boy” and only called him “chief” in jest, he knew it also turned her on.

Eventually the more they learned the more they started to genuinely care about one another. They both knew what it was like feeling your body, your boundaries violated, used for someone else’s sick whims. They found comfort, they knew they were safe with each other, even if just for the night. Although they both had a hard time admitting it. After all it would mean to admit they had lost the game.

Now with a few years passed, they still have hard time fully trusting each other, given their occupation. She still makes fun of him, he finds it cute. He knows he can rely on her, so as she does.

There were so many sweet and funny moments between these two and to be honest the scenes where they admitted their feelings to each other, letting down their guards, live rent free in my mind.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

So….anymore Hancock hc’s? NSFW or otherwise, ya girl is starved for Hancock content 🤤

Btw I adore your content and you’re a phenomenal writer!!! Thank you for teaching me things about myself that I wasn’t ready to learn 🤣🤣

John Hancock (Fallout 4) NSFW Headcanons 2

Doesn't this man seem like the type to have a cock piercing? Rhetorical question; you cannot convince me he doesn't. I'm picturing a frenum piercing, right at the base of the glans on the underside. You also cannot convince me he isn't an expert at using the thing to the point where it's a little scary. He'd really enjoy using it to tease you before he fucks you.

We all know he's into knife play (and if it hasn't occurred to you that he would obviously be into knife play, I urge you to watch the idle animation where he plays with his knife a few dozen times...it'll sink in), and I like to think it's quite the rainbow of knife play. He's willing to do quite a few things with it, from slicing your clothes off to threatening you with it. I think he'd even be willing to use it on you just a little if you ask nicely enough. Wouldn't be willing to cut you any worse than a mild cat scratch, however. What he would be willing to do, though, is fuck you with the handle.

He likes music a lot, likes to scrounge up old world stuff especially, so he's no stranger to a good "sex soundtrack". Big fan of having some music playing to help set the mood. When he gets serious about someone, he gets serious about seducing them, really trying his best to set the scene (outside of all the quickies, you know).

I said in my previous Hancock headcanons that he doesn't like to fuck when he's too fucked up, and I stand by that, but I also stand by the statement that he would greatly enjoy a small amount of shared intoxication with his partner before, during, or after sex. Do a shot or two together before you get cozy for the evening? He's down. Take a break between rounds to split a beer? Loves it. Share a joint after a good fuck? Say less.

Has a pretty serious praise kink he's not necessarily consciously aware of. He's a man of many, many regrets and insecurities, and genuine praise from someone he loves and trusts is a balm on his soul that also acts as nuclear fuel for his sex drive. Tell him how good he's making you feel, how special he is to you, how much you love him, and he'll be putty in your hands. Also not a stranger to handing out praise, especially as he gets closer and closer to finishing.

[monzamash]

unless you like that — daniel ricciardo

summary – it’s events season and the alcohol is flowing.  rating – a whole lotta smut 18+ (sex scene, course language, drinking) pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) word count – 3.8k of absolute filth a/n – bit of plot but mostly just sex because drunk, flirty danny ric makes me feral. that's it. enjoy the ride. masterlist

All you wanted to do was drag Daniel back to your hotel room, get reacquainted after a couple of torturous weeks of being apart, maybe run a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night in peace.

In your dreams.

You never really had Daniel for long during the season and because of that, you wanted to make the most of your time actually being in the same country, let alone the same city. But your handsome, social butterfly of a boyfriend had other ideas – ones that didn’t factor in your desire to have him all to yourself.

So good to see ya too, mate.

We’ve gotta catch up next time you’re in LA, man.

Maaaate, long time no see!

How’s ya mum going? Tell her I said hi.

The mum's bloody loved themselves a bit of Daniel Ricciardo.

The long, doting line of people wanting to wish Daniel good luck for next year and praising his strength through adversity while getting a sneaky selfie was never ending. To put it plainly, it was obnoxious but you were used to it now. He was effervescent, charismatic – a big ‘ol magnet to anyone and everyone. You loved him endlessly, admired his ability to smile through the pain even more but all you wanted to do was say goodnight to everyone and leave.

Barely two words were shared before you were whisked off in a car and through the doors of this swanky restaurant – the private function room and bottomless champagne making it less excruciating.

“All I can think about is getting this over and done with so I can come back here and rip this unbelievably beautiful dress off you.”

Those ‘barely two words’ were enough ammunition to last you a couple of hours, holding onto the hope of that promise coming true. But right now you had to try and enjoy the night and put any filthy thoughts you may or may not be having aside for the sake of your own sanity. Smile and wave.

You didn’t know exactly what the party was for but you knew that the McLaren team were the ones throwing it from the obnoxious amount of orange balloons hanging from the ceiling – and that Daniel was obliged to attend. But you would never have guessed that he was there as a contractual obligation the way he floated through the room, saying hello to every last individual, bright smile adorning his face. He made each and every person feel like a million bucks. That’s why they loved him, because he made them feel at ease – like he was one of them.

Daniel didn’t think there was a whole lot for him to be celebrating but he always underestimated how loved he was by McLaren – racing problems aside, he was adored by the staff who were devastated to see him leaving.

And somehow in a room of nearly a hundred people, he knew nearly everyone by name, zeroing in long enough to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Your words, not his.

“Could you say hello to my grandson – he loves you.” An older lady asked, phone locked and loaded for the video. God help him if he said no.

“Absolutely.”

Of course he said yes. That was the kind of person Daniel was. Not a people pleaser or a push over – just a genuinely nice guy with more patience than anyone you’d ever known.

After making your way around most of the room, you finally had a second to drink in your man. The freshly steamed, light blue linen shirt was lazily buttoned over his shoulders, leaving a the tiniest bit of chest hair showing for good measure and to tease you, no doubt. He’d gone for his classic black skinny jeans sitting atop a pair of shiny black dress shoes look that you loved and those wild curls that you’d spent hours twirling between your fingers flowed onto his forehead – he looked so fucking good.

His charm and kindness always had you singing his praises and you made sure he knew how wonderful he was, how attractive he was. Your soft whispers of admiration had his heart pumping as he took a sip of his Chateau Margaux red, lips quirked in a smile. “So sexy.”

“Which part of all that was sexy? The bit where I filmed a video for that women’s grandkid? You are an absolute deviant if that’s makin’ ya feel a certain way, my girl.”

Daniel loved to tease, especially when it garnered that kind of reaction. Rolling eyes, flushed cheeks and a gentle shove in the arm. He fucking lived for it.

“No, dickhead.” You scolded under your breath, “Just… you being you. I don’t know what it is.”

You couldn’t put your finger on it but you knew how it made you feel. Seduced.

“Maybe you can figure it out in our hotel room.”

Daniel shrugged with a smirk lining his lips, nonchalantly throwing out the idea as if he hadn’t been plotting a way to leave the party early. Wishing for nothing more than to have you praising his other set of skills, if you catch my drift. Rolling your eyes with flushed cheeks but in a very different context. He was twitching at the thought as his fingertips lightly scratched at the silky material covering your ribs, dragging your body closer to his.

“Don’t tempt me, Ricciardo. All I’ve wanted since the second we got here was to leave so don’t talk a big game if you can’t deliver.” You were whispering in his ear, hoping to spur on those scheming eyes staring back at you.

“When have I not delivered? Just call me FedEx,” He joked, swaggering away from the bar and waving to Lando who had just rocked up with his crew in tow.

“Do we even know what this party’s for?” Lando asked over the loud music blasting through the speakers, taking the smallest step back after he gave us both a hug hello.

Lando looked dapper compared to his usual hoodie and track pants ensemble that he'd wear around the track. He was slightly confused by the overt extravagance he’d walked into but he was always smiling your way, making you feel welcome. You were going to miss his cheekiness and the way he brought out a different side to Daniel. Mischief always seemed to follow those two.

“Probably just a way for McLaren to swing their dick around before the end of the season,” Daniel shrugged, completely oblivious to how crude his comment was. Thankfully Lando was more than used to it now after working so closely with him so you didn’t have to apologise on Daniel’s behalf.

“The wine’s ace though.” He quickly added.

“You would say that,” Lando replied, snickering quietly as he looked over at the bar, “Might actually grab a drink and come back. Want anything?"

Lando looked between you and Daniel as you both shook your heads until he turned away and disappeared into the crowd, “Kid’s not gonna know what hit him next year – being the golden boy isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…”

You nodded and watched Daniel’s eyes following Lando, pensively taking a sip of his wine before sighing and glancing back to you, “What?”

“Nothing,” You tutted, “It’s funny how much you care about him now after how rocky the relationship was in the beginning. I love that he’s softened you a little bit, made you less of a prick.” You winked.

The insincere insult tacked onto the end made Daniel’s thick eyebrows rise with faux hurt, an exaggerated gasp masterfully added for emphasis, “Me? A prick? I wouldn’t reckon a prick snags a girl like you.”

You watched as Daniel sculled the rest of his wine, a devilish smirk hiding behind the large glass, “No chance. Unless you like that.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Daniel's laugh was dark as he took a step forward, lessening the gap between the two of you before reaching up and brushing your hair over your shoulder, “Now you’re tempting me and that’s not fair.” He whispered into your ear, carefully placing his empty glass on the table beside you.

“Nothings really fair though, is it? You having to be here instead of buried deep inside me, fucking me until I –”

“The bar line’s a fucking ‘mare,” Lando loudly interrupted and caused you to jump back from Daniel’s side. You steadied yourself on his hip for balance as you watched Lando plot his next move.

“Oh, there’s Charlotte – she’ll have an in!”

You and Daniel politely nodded again while he shot off in the other direction, and the two of you shifted away from the middle of the room, out of view of prying eyes and into a private nook. Daniel was quick to pin you up against the wall, large hand pressing into your hip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. He could see right through you.

“Don’t give me that look,” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Look at what you do to me.”

His whispered words and flickering eyes encouraged your hands that were playing with his slightly parted shirt to travel further south, fingertips tracing over his dark denim jeans that were a lot tighter than when he first got here. Almost too tight.

“You are fuckin’ cruel, sweetheart.”

The painfully hard outline pressing against your palm intoxicated your already foggy mind, mouth watering. You could feel your thighs magnetically pulling together as his thumb flicked the dimple in your chin, forcing you to look into his dark, misty eyes that were watching your every move.

"Want me to do something about it?" It was a bold question to ask, a dangerous one, even when you noticed his eyes change colour. They were blacker than the night sky now.

Daniel was exasperated, anguished by the question as he smiled and dipped his forehead onto yours. The answer was obviously “abso-fucking-lutely, get down on your knees and show me you love me” but he knew better. And so did you. Still, the warm puff of air from his laugh still sent surging chills down your arched spine, needy for his touch.

“I hate sayin’ no to you,” He rasped and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Especially when I know how fucking good you feel but no. You can't.”

You dryly chuckled and brushed your hands over his puffed out chest, “Must be absolute torture, my boy. Thankfully I can hide how I’m feeling – you? Not so much.” You replied with gritted teeth and a shrug, smirk dancing on your lips.

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ in for it later, mate.” He playfully retorted before pulling himself from your grasp and leaving you with what he thought was a threat, but what you took as a promise you hoped to God he would keep. You were soaked. to. the. core.

The expensive champagne continued to flow freely for hours and several glasses of wine later had you and Daniel fumbling around at your hotel room door, unsure whether you’d arrived at the right number and having absolutely no idea where the key card you barely remembered giving him had gone. It also didn’t help that Daniel’s lips hadn’t left the crook of your neck while you dug through your clutch, his fingers inching closer to danger with every passing second.

“Lemme see your pockets,” You huffed and shoved your hand into his jeans pocket, causing a loud shriek to slip from his lips.

“You’re just tryin’ to touch my dick!” He shouted, louder than he expected and definitely louder than you accepted as appropriate, even in your drunken stupor, "You can if ya want."

“Shuuuush!” You hissed, trying not to laugh as Daniel gazed up at the ceiling and reached into his back pocket, searching until his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah-huh!”

“Thank god – now hurry up and fuck me please!” You whisper-yelled, praying for the sweet sound of a door unlocking.

“Alright, ya horn-bag. Give me a sec- ond… Shit!” Daniel paused and looked back at you with wide eyes, “Wrong room.”

You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind the large door in front your shocked face. Before you could even muster a response to his mortifying revelation, Daniel had you in his grasp, dragging you down the hallway, panting and hoping he had a plan. He always did.

“Room 1001 – not 1011,” He coughed through his laughter, hovering the keycard over the lock and finally revealing the room we’d left nearly 5 hours ago, “Home sweet home.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his embrace. Daniel groaned at your sudden burst of energy and hoisted you up on his waist, mouths instantly attached and desperately trying to defy physics.

Your vision was blurry when you pulled away for air, lips still touching, noses knocking and your hands still roaming the expanse of Daniel’s broad shoulders. You could feel him moving you further into the room that was spinning, the ceiling fan still whirring above your head. That was the first thing you saw when you landed on the messy hotel bed and left for dead by Daniel who was chuckling at the foot, watching you lay back in defeat.

“I’m stupidly drunk.” You huffed.

Daniel nodded as you looked up at him through hooded eyes, “So, so drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

Your pointed finger and wiggling eyebrows told him exactly what you were referring to, lip bite and dark eyes forever selling you out.

“Take off your pants.” You ordered.

Daniel’s grin dropped into a smirk as you propped yourself up on your elbows, encouraging your boyfriend to give you a little show. Tipsy or not, Daniel knew what you wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to give you whatever you asked for. A heat rushed across his chest as he gazed down at you, undressing for him. The silky satin dress slipped off a lot easier than it went on, a detail not going unnoticed by Daniel who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, moaning at the sight of your white lacy thong that you knew he loved.

“Killing me.”

“You love it, baby.”

“I live for it.”

The banter was hot, if not hotter than the actual sex. Foreplay was your forte but you weren’t in a ‘building a narrative’ kind of mood. It was primitive now – the primal need for a release outweighing the desire to fuck around with each other. That was the kind of fun best saved for the morning. You were already looking forward to that.

“Look how wet I am for you, Danny.”

Daniel growled as he kicked his jeans off, boxer briefs attached as they flung across the room, discarded with his wrinkled linen shirt. He stood for a moment – naked, painfully hard and begging to be touched before crawling up onto the California king. You could feel him throbbing as he brushed up on your inner thigh, legs open and wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds. Lips attached again, frenziedly needing for more.

“Give it to me.” You pathetically pled.

“I wanna taste first.”

You resented his love for you in that moment. Resented that he wanted to indulge in what you had to offer, when all you wanted was the main course. The sharp huff that slipped from your lips made Daniel chuckle into your inner thigh, sloppy kisses followed by tiny nibbles, undeniably revving you up but also making the pout on your face that much more noticeable.

“You’re sexy even when you’re mad,” He almost slurred, closing the gap between you and his indescribably proficient tongue. Hot breath fanning over what you could only imagine was your glistening pussy. Ready for him to enjoy. Fuck.

“You are a fucking drug. A sweet, delicious drug that'll be the death of me.”

Daniel hummed before flattening his tongue against you, loving eyes locked on yours before your head tilted back, throat barely squeaking out a moan. He lapped and lapped and lapped away at you, paying close attention to the way you curled up when the tip of his nose slipped over your clit, your moan changing in pitch. He was always in heaven devouring you like this, until he was somewhat satisfied. He wasn’t selfish and he knew what you wanted, even if he could’ve stayed like that until the sun came up. Feasting.

“Daniel, please.”

“Full naming me when I just wanna make you feel good is mean, baby.”

Daniel was playing. And you were teasing. He loved hearing you moan his whole name – his mind reeling back to the time you screamed out his full name as you came, subsequently rushing him to his own finish line. Exploding.

“I wanna cum around your cock. That’s all I want,” You sighed and finally opened your eyes, clutching and admiring at the sprinkling of chest hair. Daniel was drunk, but not drunk enough to not realise how lucky he was to have you spread out beneath him, pleading for him to fuck you into another dimension.

“Your wish is my… demand? Command? Your wish is my something,” Daniel couldn’t quite find the saying in the midst of his excitement, and you couldn't hold back the fit of laughter as you threw your head into the pillows.

“Smooth, Ricciardo,” You giggled as you felt his slick tip teasing your hole, fists clenched beside your head and a smirk the size of the equator on his face.

“Well how does it go then, smarty pants?” Daniel nodded his head and gently sank into you, revelling in the feeling of you engulfing every inch he had to give while he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, waiting for your answer.

“I –” You stammered, adjusting and sucking in a sharp breath, “I have no… No idea, and I don’t… fucking care.”

Daniel chuckled as his wispy curls fell into his eyes, watching you lick your lips and gather yourself. You were blurry in his vision, the alcohol now really pumping through his veins as he gripped your hips in his large hands, palms perspiring and brows following suit. Your fingertips trailed from his chest down to his pelvis, skin hot to the touch and tattoos glistening from sheen of sweat covering his perfect body.

“Fuck me just like that… Oh my god.” You snapped open your lust filled eyes – blazing flames erupting in Daniel’s as they caught yours.

“Feels fuckin’ good, ey.”

It was a rhetorical question but you nodded anyway.

Daniel was huffing and puffing as your lips tried to find his, hands cradling his slacked jaw. Drunken sloppy sex was one of your favourite genres and it’d been a hot minute since you’d found yourselves with the taste of red wine still lingering on your tongues, fucking like animals. He was thrusting hard until he noticed your hand crawl down to where your bodies met, the delicate touch slowing his movements and capturing his undivided attention.

“Oi,” Daniel breathed and sat back on his knees, still warming in your tight pussy. Your eyebrows quirked with intrigue and a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as he grabbed your hand and guided it up to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. Fanning the flames deep inside.

His tongue swiped across your soft fingertips, making sure each one was dripping wet with spit before sliding them back down between your trembling thighs, “Bet that feels better, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Much better,” You managed to moan out as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and angled your hips up to his cock, watching himself slowly slide in and out while you circled your clit, edging yourself closer with every touch.

Daniel picking up the pace meant he wasn’t far from his high, the tell tale signs were consistent and always a dead giveaway. The flush of red creeping up his neck and veins bulging under his taut skin was the first sign. Filthy words whispered into your ear was the second and grunts vibrating in his chest as his focus was pulled to you and only you were one of the final ones before he couldn’t hold on any longer.

But he never left you high and dry. Not in a million fucking years.

"Right fucking there, Danny!" You shouted, oblivious to your screams almost certainly alerting the neighbouring room. Even if you were conscious of the volume of your voice, you couldn’t have cared less. Your man was putting on a show and you’d be damned if you didn’t make sure he knew how good he was giving it to you.

"I'm right there..."

"Cum all over my cock, beautiful."

You squealed into the pillow you’d been gripping, scrunching your nose at how fucking good he felt filling you to the brim. Daniel eased your thrashing body through the shockwaves, making sure you felt every last writhe of pleasure – every nerve set alight by the fire burning in your stomach as that perfectly tied knot quickly unravelled. He was holding on for dear life, cursing how tight you felt coming around his aching cock.

"I need to see your face, baby. Look at me." 

Daniel’s raspy voice snapped you back to reality as your hips rocked violently against his. That and your blown-out pupils boring into his was enough to send him tumbling over the edge, unloading everything he had and more.

Daniel clutched your shuddering thighs with his searing fingertips as he bucked one, two, three times and placed one of his shaky palms against the hotel wall, trying to catch his breath as he filled you up. Your eyes were lazily shut, slowly regaining some semblance of consciousness and clawing at the skin on Daniel’s abdomen – attempting to soothe him through his high. Selfishly, you were too caught up in your own that you’d forgotten he was even still there. You'd make up for that later.

For now, you were in bliss. Laboured breathing filled the comfortable silence as you searched for one another, floating back down to the real world.

"Come back to me," Daniel teased quietly as a sly grin swept across your face, eyes closed and skin still tingling from his hot touch. He fell beside you and rolled off the bed in search of something, anything to clean up the mess you’d made together.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," You whispered back, earning a hoarse chuckle in return. Daniel looked like a mirage on a hot summers day when you opened your eyes and watched him exit the en suite, tissue box in hand.

"What a review."

Proudly boasting after sex was a regular occurrence with Daniel and you loved it; encouraged it even. He chucked the tissue away and practically tripped back into bed, still tipsy and feeling the full effects now that he wasn't under your intoxicating spell. At least for now, anyway.

He flicked off the lamp and sent the room into complete darkness before you felt his warm arm snaking around your naked waist, pulling you into his pounding chest. You were exhausted and almost numb from the long night but satisfied above all else. Thirst well and truly quenched.

You could always rely on Danny for that.

click for more of my writing if you're interested.

[akane171]

­­­Things about Ron Speirs that live rent free in my head

-“SPEIRS, GET YOURSELF OVER HERE!”

I don’t know what I like most about this scene. The fact Dick just furiously passed Sink and ignored his commander, because his boys were getting screwed? Speirs running to him and then without a single word sprinting to do the job? Or Nixon with his binoculars liveblogging the whole  battle? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-The change in his voice and intonation between “I’m taking over” and “First Sergeant Lipton!”.

-The church scene, when Lipton says Easy men didn’t care about the gossips… It was HILARIOUS. Like, Lip? Sweetheart? Ron scared the shit out of Christenson and some poor innocent kids in the same damned ep. I could hear Pat’s sobbing in the background during that scene, mixed with the nuns’ chorus.

-A man needs a hobby and his was trolling people. Aside of the whole “did he or did he not shot the prisoners”, he enjoyed the gossips, appearing suddenly out of nowhere, while giving creepy speeches and traumatizing people. And he did it fabulously. Legend.

-His little, millisecond pause, when we watch his back while Lipton says “Well, maybe they keep talking about it because they never heard Tercius deny it”.

-And two things about this scene. Lipton knows Speirs was trolling people and it was amusing him. And Ron’s answer “Well, maybe that’s because Tercius knew there was some value to the men thinking he was the meanest, toughest sonofabitch in the whole Roman legion” - he knows Lip knows he was trolling people and (not directly) admits it. He never did that to anyone else, what also means he really respected Lipton (gross sobbing).

-Anyway, this whole church scene is a pure love and I adore every second of it.

-He was a history nerd ;_; I’m kind of sad, we didn’t see him and Buck taking about some ancient battles in Gaul.

-He kept tabs on Easy xD how much he’s learnt from creeping in the shadows and eavesdropping – no one knows xD

-The fact real Speirs was shot in the ass on some of his solo patrols proves he was just meant to be Easy’s CO. Fucking destiny.

-His favourite sergeant was Grant (ok, ok, put the pitchforks DOWN, I said sergeant NOT lieutenant, geez).

-The fact no one called him “Sparky” in the show is a crime against humanity. But at least we got one “Ron” from Winters. Still…

-I think I read somewhere here, that he wore his helmet so low, because it was too big and… yes? Absolutely? Whoever noticed it – I bow to you.

And it reminds me all the promo pics where we have most of the characters standing together and he stands on the side, a little farer and looking awkwardly like “mom said I have to socialize more, so here I am, ugh…”.

-Also, he looks tiny compared to the other guys on many shots/pics, what is hilarious on many levels.

-I realized it after the second watch, that he not only stole cigarettes from Buck, but he offered them to the German POWs. Not his cigarettes, but the shit he stole. I don’t know why, but it’s just so super HIM xD

-I wonder when exactly Easy Company did realize that their new CO is not exactly the meanest, toughest sonofabitch in the army, but a big ass weirdo, with poor social skills, suspicious hobbies and sticky hands.

-Ep 8 look >>>>>>>>>>>>> everything else.

-The moment when Webster throws himself to the ground and Ron just stands in the background, watching the missile like it was meh (he had a personal ranking of “Things that almost killed me” and that missile was not even on the Top 10).

-“No. You don’t have any experience.” How the fuck Jones didn’t drop dead right after is beyond me. Also, A+++ acting.

-The fact is that Lipton was his social-skills-only-working-brain-cell and it’s beautiful.

-The moment Perconte asked him to give him back his lighter, I guess it was the moment Speirs knew his reputation crumbled to dust xD

-Unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Malarkey scared him on a purpose. I think it was accidentally, what for me, makes it even funnier. But the fact Don started as someone who was scared of Speirs like no one else and ended scarring him – it just warms my heart.

-And that pure annoyance on Ron’s face when Malarkey’s approaches him a second after he scared him, will never stop making me laugh. It the look could kill the bottle in Don’s hands would explode.

-On some point Lipton was sitting with his head in his hands and moaning that he was not paid enough to keep his crazy CO with suicidal tendencies alive and Luz was there-thereing him.

-All the things he's done to keep Grant alive.

-Basically, Speirs gives me a stray cat vibes and the fact he kind of, adopted Lipton and whole Easy proves it.

-And finally, the way he went from “we are all dead, just accept it” to “ok, I guess I’m going to stay in the army to keep the idiots alive (sighs)” is one of the best character developments and is so… sooo … you know? ;_;

Anyway, the thing I like the most about his character is how unexpected he is. I didn’t expect to like him so much. I didn’t expect him to change so much in such splendid way. But here I am.

We meet him in the show as  “a cold blooded soldier” stereotype and we learn in the end he was just deeply compassionate man (and a weirdo), who applied being a sociopath to be a better man of war. It just makes him very human - thanks to the fact his character was based on a real man, I guess. And that applies to all BOB’s characters.

And BIG kudos to Matthew Settle for doing such a great job and creating an iconic character. I read and watched some interviews, where he admitted he had a big problems with grasping the role, but damn, in the end he absolutely NAILED IT.

EDIT: Part II (x)

[theweirwoodfiles]

The Weirwood Files: Rhaewin (Rhaenyra x Harwin)

Subject: A defense of Harwin Strong and an analysis of his relationship with Rhaenyra.

I want my first real post to be a deep dive into the beautiful relationship that is Rhaenyra x Harwin, a relationship that team green considers shameful, while team black (mostly staunch daemyras), finds it shallow and boring. I believe both interpretations are incorrect, as even with their limited screen time together, Emma and Ryan managed to tell a beautiful love story, even in just the way they looked at one another. With a single look, so much was said without a word being spoken. 

One thing that Rhaewin has begun to get criticism for lately, is the idea that Harwin is no better than any other man in Rhaenyra’s life, that he too has groomed and taken advantage of her, that perhaps he is no “saint” as he seems to be treated by the fandom. 

The truth is, there is nothing within the canon to suggest this. The first moment we get between them is when we see Harwin giving Rhaenyra an encouraging look after she returns from killing the boar. Nothing here implies he is lusting after her. Instead, Harwin merely just stands out as being the only one at the hunt to look at her with admiration while everyone stares in confusion or judgment. 

The next two scenes we are given of them also definitely don’t have any hint of predatory behavior from Harwin. He runs into her after she snuck out with Daemon and presumably decides to keep her secret, and the one after that he carries her away out of the chaos during her wedding after being given permission by his father, the hand. 

There is no canon evidence to support Harwin groomed her. Grooming implies a pattern of behavior over time that we do not see from Harwin. He and Rhaenyra have no pre existing relationship before they conceive Jace, Harwin does not even put himself forward for her hand during her marriage tour. Harwin does not commit any predatory actions towards Rhaenyra. 

This quote by Sara Hess is the closest we have to an official canonical description of Harwin, and while granted, Hess has said her fair share of questionable things in the past, there is nothing in the canon that disputes what she said. 

“He’s one of the more unambiguous characters, he’s just a good dude. You don’t see him off doing morally questionable things, which almost everybody else is doing. They’re so flawed and human and messy. He was able to be a paragon of decency and generosity and handsome strength. He’s one of the guys you could just love and feel great about loving and then he’s ripped from you too soon, before he does anything that could fuck that up for you. He’s our perfect angel.”

With this settled, I want to move on to their actual love story. We know they did not have much time together before they conceived Jace, considering the timeline of events. What we can put together at least, is that Rhaenyra was in a vulnerable position with Laenor. After they tried several times to conceive and failed, she needed to secure her position quickly and found solace in Harwin, who proved himself to be one of the only trusted figures she had in court. 

The next time we see Rhaewin is after the time jump. They have already had two beautiful sons together and another has just been born. Despite this implied intimacy, they have to hide their affections, only able to give each other coy smiles and a playful line here and there. Harwin holds their newborn son and Rhaenyra looks at the sight with adoration, yet also a hint of sadness, as if she is thinking of a world where they could be open about their love. In the night, they are in each other’s arms and make sons, princes of the realm. Yet in the day, these stolen moments are all they can afford.

The next time we see Harwin, he points out Criston Cole’s lack of care in his son’s training. He attempts to teach Jace as distantly as he can, and it is very clear he is increasingly frustrated with only being able to go so far in his son’s teachings. In the end, Cole still provokes him, and Harwin unleashes his anger on him. All the pain and frustration of only being able to love Rhaenyra and their children from afar is let out in the form of this beatdown on Cole. 

It would not follow without consequence however. Harwin is ordered to leave his position as Commander of the City Watch and go back to Harrenhal, away from Rhaenyra, away from their sons. Ryan Corr does an amazing job in this scene and you can just feel his utter devotion when he says one of my favorite lines from the show “you have your honor, and I have mine”. 

In a world where conceiving bastards is considered sinful and shameful, Harwin sees their union as one of love and honor. His sons are not treacherous reminders of sin and lust, but worthy princes born of love.

Rhaenyra and Harwin’s final scene together is one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the show. Rhaenyra is losing one of the only trusted figures she has in court, the man she sought comfort in and who fathered her three sons, and Harwin is losing everything that means the most to him. And once again, despite the privacy, despite the fact that this is their last moment together, they still cannot be open about their love. There is no final kiss goodbye, not even a hug. There is only a single look between them that says all we need to know, and a hopeful promise that Harwin will return. 

One of the most tragic things about this scene is that Jacaerys picks up on everything between them. He sees the looks shared between them, the desire for a hug or a kiss, he sees it all and he knows what it means. His mother and father have a love story that they can never tell anyone about, not even their own son. 

TL;DR: Rhaewin is a beautiful yet tragic twist on the knight and princess love story trope. Those that see this relationship as shameful have had their brains rotted by team discourse who buy into the “bastardphobia” present in universe (despite the fact that that is constantly criticized by the narrative itself), and wave it away as a “mistake”. There is nothing at all shameful about their relationship, and their sons were not made of sin, but of love. Rhaewin is also far from boring or shallow, to say this is to insult the work done by Emma and Ryan. There is a very beautiful, and rich love story between these two characters for those that have eyes to see it.