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xxbimbobunnyxx · 8 months

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Everlasting Sweetheart

(Older!Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Fem!Reader)

Summary: Ever since you presented there’s never been an alpha that smelled alluring to you. But when you move to Hawkins to be closer to your family you catch the scent of your next door neighbor, who just so happens to be the most handsome older man you’ve ever seen, and he smells phenomenal. It’s just your luck that he’d end up being your dad’s best friend, right? WK:15.3k(Oopsie)

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors (scenting, knotting, marking), age gap (Eddie is 41, reader is 27) breeding kink, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving), some angst (with a happy ending), mutual pining, pregnancy mentions, it’s the mid 00s (around 2007), fluff, Eddie and reader are both so down bad. 18+MDNI!!

A/N: Okay, I truly put my heart and soul into this one. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written and I honestly feel like Dr. Frankenstein and this is my monster. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch for always being amazing and hyping me up. And a special thank you to my omegaverse Jedi master @lesservillain, thank you for brainstorming with me and gassing me up throughout this entire process, this one’s for you, shawty. (older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple) Masterlist.

You smelled it the minute you entered the building and it hasn’t left your nose since. That musky, woodsy smell that had hints of something spicy sweet, like cinnamon. It’s been a week since you moved in and you can smell it in every crevice of your apartment. It’s intoxicating. You’ve never been attracted to the smell of an alpha in this way. But there was only one problem, you’ve yet to lay eyes on the owner of the scent. Not for lack of trying either, you took extra long pulling your keys out, put some cute decorations on your front door, you even resorted to peeking out the window every time you heard someone walk by. To no avail.

It was starting to drive you insane, other alphas had smelled good to you before but nothing like this. It was like every time you so much as breathed in your panties got just a little bit more damp. Your hands have been wandering between your legs and reaching for the drawer in your nightstand more often than they have in your entire life and you don’t even have a face to blame. Just the scent that you can’t even seem to escape even when you leave the house, it’s like it’s sunken into your pores. You sometimes wonder if they can smell you too.

At the almost two week mark you can’t take it anymore. Deciding to take matters into your own hands you get out all the ingredients you will need to make your homemade cream pie. Baking for your new neighbors was a completely normal, neighborly, thing to do. You would just make the pie and go knock on the door. Easy.

You spent half the day baking and doing chores between steps, purposefully waiting until the evening time when most people would be home from work to deliver your sugary treat. You were also hyping yourself up. You had no idea who this scent that had been plaguing you belonged to. Was it a man? A woman? Did they already have a mate? If they did you don’t think you would be able to smell them this strongly, so you’re banking on them being single.

When 6 o’clock rolls around you decide it’s time to put your plan into motion. You put the finishing touches in the pie before going into your room to find the perfect outfit. Were you just walking ten feet to your neighbors door? Yes. Did you still want to look your best without looking like you tried to look your best? Also yes.

You decide on a little cream dress that has tiny cherries printed all over it and little red bows on the straps, paired with your Mary Jane’s. You put your hair in two braids and do your everyday make up before giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked good. The dress fit your figure and accentuated your curves perfectly while also showing off just the right amount of cleavage.

“Alright, you can do this.” You take a deep breath, which doesn’t really help because your nose is just invaded with the scent that you’re hoping to put a face to in the next few minutes. You grab the pie and walk out the door before you can talk yourself out of it.

Eddie lets out an annoyed groan at the sound of a knock on his door, he had just got home from a long day of work and was toweling off after his post work shower. He wasn’t expecting anyone, who the hell is at his door at 7PM on a Wednesday night unannounced? The only people that come here are his friends, and they always call before.

There’s a second round of soft knocks so he quickly finishes drying off his hair before wrapping the dampened cloth around his waist. He pulls the bathroom door open and is immediately hit with the scent. The bathroom filled with steam and the smell of his own shower products seemed to be the only place he could escape it nowadays. But he’s never smelled it this strongly. He knows a new omega moved in next door, he’s been able to smell them since the day they walked into the complex. But he’s yet to catch a glimpse of them. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Eddie gave up on the hope of finding a mate years ago. Every time he tried to be with an omega they either smelled off to him or he smelled off to them.

But ever since he caught a whiff of this scent it’s been plaguing his senses. A scent has never smelled sweeter, or stronger. It’s like someone turned his house into the best bakery in town. It smelled like whoever lived next door was baking the most delicious cookies anyone’s ever tasted. When he got home today the sweetness was at an all time high, especially when he walked past his new neighbors door. He couldn’t help himself when he stopped outside of it to inhale deeply. It was so delicious it made his head spin. And now? The smell was getting stronger with every step he took towards the door. It made his heart rate speed up and his cock stir under the thin material of the towel around his waist.

He approaches the door and his hand hovers over the knob for a second. He needed to get himself under control. If the owner of the scent that’s been possessing him for the last two weeks is on the other side he needs to try and keep it together. He sighs, shaking his head so his hair falls off his shoulders before grabbing onto the knob and pulling the door open. The swing of the door kicks up wind, sending the smell wafting directly towards him. It nearly knocks him on his ass, his ears start to ring, his eyes land on a pair of shiny black Mary Jane’s before traveling up a pair of bare legs, hungrily drinking in curves covered by the thin material of a pretty little dress, until they land on the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. Your face. Your eyes are wide, your pupils blown, your dainty ring covered fingers are clutching what looks like a pie tin. The way you’re looking at him like a little deer caught in the headlights is making him want to tackle you to the ground and-

“Uh - hi… I’m your new neighbor. I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself, and I uh - I made you this.” You raise the baked good in your hands up between the two of you with a nervous smile.

“Oh - um - yeah, thank you, that’s really nice of you.” He anxiously scratches the back of his neck, returning your smile with a nervous one of his own. “Do you bake a lot? I swear ever since you moved in it smells like someone opened a bakery next door.”

“Usually yes, this is the first time I’ve gotten my baking stuff out since the move though.” He watches as your eyes roam over his bare inked chest, down to his hips where the towel is resting lowly, almost showing off the patch of hair above his cock. Were you checking him out? You had to be almost half his age. What would you want with an old unwanted alpha like him? He needs to get it together. You're just being nice, neighborly. “But I uh - just wanted to say hello, I won’t keep you. You seem busy.”

“Wait!” He didn’t even realize how desperate it sounded until it left his lips. God Eddie, snap out of it. “You didn’t even tell me your name, sweetheart.”

“Oh! I guess that’s kind of part of introducing yourself, huh?” You giggle and tell him your name and it goes off like a mantra in his head. “And you are?”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Eddie.” He offers you a friendly smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. You take it and the minute your skin grazes his it’s like a shockwave is sent through his body. His entire body was on fire. Especially where he was still holding your soft hand in his larger rough one. Oh shit he was still holding onto your hand. “Shit, sorry, I just got this towel out of the dryer, must be staticky.”

“Huh? Oh! That’s okay, might’ve been me too, I just did some laundry and I’m out of dryer sheets.” You shrug, pulling your hand from his. He immediately feels cold, and misses the feeling of your touch. What is going on with him? No one has ever had this kind of effect on him. He doesn’t even know you. But god he wants to. Your sweet voice, your otherworldly scent, your curves in that little dress you were wearing. Your hair was off your neck and he could see your mating gland so clearly. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. A shiver runs through him at the thought.

“Oh I’m sorry! You must be so cold standing here, I won’t keep you. Here! I hope you like it, it’s my signature cream pie!” You hold the pie out to him with the sweetest smile on your face. God was everything about you sweet? And you baked for him? A cream pie? No omega has ever made anything for him and it was doing things to him he wished it wasn’t. He needs to get away from you before he pops a very noticeable boner through his towel.

“Thank you om- sweetheart, that was very sweet of you.” He takes the pie from you, giving you the most casual smile he can muster.

“No problem, baking relaxes me, so it was my pleasure.” You clasp your hands together in front of you, rocking back and forth in your heels a few times. “Well I’ll uh - see you around, Eddie. It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you too, thanks again for the pie. Have a good night.” He offers you a small smile and a nod before he’s rushing back inside, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck.”

It’s been a few days since you finally put a face to the scent that feels like it has been clogging your every pore. But it was like somehow the encounter enhanced it by tenfold. You don’t know who you were expecting to be on the other side of that door but that man is something straight out of your fantasies. He was gorgeous. His curly chestnut hair was slightly dripping from the shower, droplets sliding down his broad tattooed chest. The muscles in his abs and arms, which were also covered in tattoos, made it seem like he definitely spent some of his time working out. His face was gorgeous, the way he smiled at you and the shine of his brown doe eyes made you feel like your insides were melting. But most of all? Smelling him that close made your head spin. You’d never smelled anything or anyone like him. You wanted to bottle it up and snort it like your new favorite drug.

Just because you haven’t seen him, it doesn’t mean you haven’t tried. You find yourself peeking out your window when you hear footsteps in the hallway an embarrassing amount, you linger in your doorway when you’re coming and going more often than not, and you even started spending more time on your balcony in hope that he might decide to use his at the same time as you. To no avail. But the walls were thin, so you could hear him, and even though the building was supposed to be a secondary gender coed complex with insulated walls, you could still smell him. Constantly.

Sometimes you’d hear him playing 80s metal while slight grunts floated through the walls. You couldn’t tell if he was working out or jerking off but you honestly hoped for the ladder. You’d hear him clanking around in his kitchen, singing along to dorky dad rock, the kind of shit your dad listens to. Sometimes you’d hear him playing guitar and you aren’t even ashamed to admit that you’ve pleasured yourself to the sound once or twice, wrapped in a veil of his scent as it travels through your shared bedroom wall.

He was driving you insane, you needed to see him again. So when you were baking your dads favorite chocolate cupcakes you decided it wouldn’t hurt to make a few extra for Eddie. It gave you a chance to see him again, and baking also genuinely calmed you. You knew it was definitely mostly your biological instinct but you genuinely enjoyed caring for others. Cooking for them, helping them with self care, offering comforting touches, it all soothed something and scratched an itch inside you that could only be described as primal.

You frosted the cupcakes, putting a few of them in a separate container for Eddie before going to get dressed. You noticed he usually got home around 5:30PM and judging by your last visit he usually showered immediately so you had some time to figure out your outfit and fix your hair and make up to your liking. You decided to go with a little black mini skirt, a cropped black cardigan with nothing underneath, your white ruffle socks, and your Mary Jane’s. You put your hair in two low pigtails and tie white ribbons around each one. You grab the cupcakes off the counter and walk out the door a little after 6:45PM.

You take a deep breath, which literally does nothing to help you while you’re standing right outside his front door, his scent invading your nostrils, making your head spin. You knock on the door lightly before taking a step back, adjusting your already straight skirt out of nervousness. You hear footsteps on the other side of the door and as the knob turns your heart rate quickens.

“Oh, hi.” Eddie’s eyes are wide, and he scratches the back of his neck in a way that makes you think he’s almost nervous. But he couldn’t be, could he? This man was gorgeous, and he smelled phenomenal, he had to be popular with women, right? There’s no way he wasn’t. He was wearing fucking grey sweatpants this time, and an old band tee that he cut the neck and hem off of. He also cut off the sleeves, exposing his toned arms and his tattooed ribs.

“Hey! I was baking cupcakes for my dad and I made more than him or I will ever need to eat, so I figured I’d bring you some of the extras!” You smile at him sweetly as you hold up the container.

“That’s… really sweet, thanks.” Is he blushing? Cute. He takes the container from you, your fingers brush and send that same shockwave through your entire body, causing you to let out a small gasp. It was so small that if you weren’t in the worlds most echo prone hallway he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all. Did you uh - enjoy the pie?” You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself.

“Yeah, fuck, it was delicious, sweetheart. Thank you. I’ve never had a pie that good before. You some kind of professional baker or something?” He gives you a lopsided grin and it relieves some of the tension in the air. But the nickname and the glint in his eye pick up your heart rate in a different way and you have to stop yourself from clenching your

thighs at the combination of the sight and smell of him.

“Oh nothing like that, I mean, I just opened a little bakery downtown and I went to culinary school but I wouldn’t call myself a professional or anything.” You giggle, twirling a strand of your hair around your fingers.

“That’s a professional in my book, you’re like a certified dealer of baked goods.” He chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully and it makes butterflies erupt in your tummy.

“If you say so.” You giggle again, rocking back and forth on your feet. “But I’m glad you liked the pie, I hope you like these too. If you ever have any requests I’d love to make you something you’re actually craving sometime.”

You didn’t realize how suggestive that sounded until Eddie started going into a coughing fit, choking on air at your words.

“Sorry I - didn’t mean - “

“Hey, I’d love for you to give me something I’m craving sometime, sugar.” He smirks, his eyes momentarily unashamedly roaming your figure. “I’m a big fan of peach cobbler, if you ever want to go to all the trouble for an old man like me.”

“Psh! You’re not even that old! How old are you, like 35?” You playfully roll your eyes at him, feeling calmed by his demeanor yet again.

“Try 41, sweets.” He chuckles, his hand coming up to rub the well trimmed stubble on his chin. Now that his hair is dry you can see a few grays throughout and if anything it just makes him sexier. “And what about you, huh? Bet I’m like twice your age.”

“Not even! I’ll have you know I’m 27.” You tell him matter of factly.

“Alright, you got me there, bet you still get carded at all the bars, huh? Pretty little thing like you.” Oh god, he’s fully flirting with you now.

“Hey I could say the same for you, handsome. I thought you were younger. You look good.” You wink at him, taking an opportunity to let your eyes roam him for a moment. “You should taste them, the cupcakes.”

“Alright, as you wish.” He pops open the container, taking one of the chocolatey treats in his ring adorned tattooed hand. He pulls back the shiny red paper, and takes a large bite. His eyes roll back and a moan leaves the back of his throat. You have to hold in one of your own at the sound. You can’t help but imagine what he looks like when he cums in that moment. “Fuuuuck this is so goddamn good, thank you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, sure Eddie, anytime. I’ll uh, see you around?” You smile at him hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll be around. If you ever need anything, let me know, alright?” He returns your smile, using his thumb to push some frosting on the corner of his mouth between his lips, sucking it off. Alright, time to go, before you say or do something stupid.

“Cool, same to you. Have a good night.” You offer him a small wave.

“Yeah, have a good night, sugar.”

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Eddie was starting to think you put a spell on him, he had only spoken to you twice and you were all he could think about it. He found his mind wandering when he was at work, almost tattooing his clients on autopilot. His coworkers all called him out, asking who the “special lady” who had his head in the clouds was. He brushed them off, of course. You weren’t really anything to him other than his neighbor, but that didn’t mean you weren’t necessarily special. There was just something about you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but it was like part of him was missing when you weren’t around. Which sounded ridiculous, but it didn’t help that he could smell you constantly. Even when he wasn’t at home it was like your scent was embedded in his fucking bones.

The fact that you kept baking for him didn’t help, it was doing something to the alpha in him that he’s never experienced. He’s never had an omega fuss over him in any way, so you were really pulling on his heart strings. It didn’t hurt that you were a knockout. You were absolutely the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. He didn’t think you’d be interested in him, due to his age, but you were definitely flirting with him when you brought him those cupcakes yesterday. Eddie’s dating game might be rusty, but he wasn’t blind. He still had his doubts, you could just be having some fun with your new neighbor. Omegas were never interested in him for more than a quick fuck, the amount of times he’s been told that something about his scent was just “off” has left him insecure and rough around the edges.

He’s deep in his thoughts about you when he exits the elevator to your shared floor, where he’s immediately flooded with your scent like he always is. But something about it today was off, and not in the way those omegas meant about his being off, you were distressed. He could tell from the way you smelled just a little sour, but still so so good. It immediately sent him into a panic, were you okay? Did someone hurt you? Did you need help?

He swiftly turns the corner to your hall and he sees you standing in front of your door with your cell phone held to your ear. You’re anxiously tapping your foot while you chew on the nails of your free hand. Whoever you’re calling clearly doesn’t answer because you throw your head back, slamming the flip phone shut with a groan.

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The sound of heavy footsteps has you whipping your head in the direction of your intruder. Something inside you softens at the sight of Eddie approaching you with a concerned look on his face. You had been trying to call the property company for the last hour. After you took a shower you tried to turn it off but no matter how hard you turn it the hot water knob won't budge. So your shower had been running for the last hour and a half at least.

“Hey, are you alright?” The concern in his voice matched the furrow in his brow, it was almost like you could even smell his concern dripping into his scent. You wonder if maybe his alpha nose caught a whiff of your distress. You’ve been told by other alphas you smell awful when you’re upset.

“Yeah, no, kind of? I don’t know. My shower won’t shut off and the stupid fucking property management isn’t picking up their emergency phone.” You huff, clutching your little hot pink razor in your hand.

“Yeah, they basically never answer that damn phone, they might as well just stop giving it out at this point. These faucets are old and finicky, mine gets stuck from corrosion all the time. I can check it out, if you want?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother, but I’d really appreciate the help. I can cook up a storm but I don’t know a damn thing when it comes to things like this.” Your lips form into a pout and Eddie wants to kiss it off so badly. It was becoming increasingly harder each time he sees you to control himself around you.

“It’s not a bother, sugar. I told you to tell me if you needed anything, remember? I think this qualifies. Let me just grab my tools, alright?” He shoots you a wink that has you almost forgetting why you were even upset a few seconds ago.

It only took him a few minutes to come back out of his apartment with his tools in hand. If he was being honest he spent a little extra time trying to calm himself down before going inside your home. Surrounded by your scent and all things you. You smile sweetly at him, opening your front door to let him inside.

Eddie feels like the wind got knocked out of him the minute he steps into your apartment. If he thought your smell was overpowering in his house it was mind altering inside your own. His knees felt like they were going to give out and he had to will himself to not get hard. He took a quick look around while you led him towards the bathroom. Your decor was cute, it had an almost vintage witchy kind of feel to it and it was extremely cozy. Your purple velvet couch and the framed horror movie posters give him a tiny bit of insight on who you are. You had candles lit, and your radio was quietly playing some kind of whiny emo sounding music he’s heard in passing but couldn’t name. It was all so unique, just like your scent.

“Okay so, the cold knob and the shower knob work just fine but the hot won’t turn off. It’s like stuck or something.” You walk into the bathroom and he follows, pushing back your black and purple moonphase curtain. You take advantage of the opportunity to ogle him while his back is turned to you. He looks good today. A plain black tee shirt is tight on his broad shoulders, black jeans that are ripped at the knees and hug his ass just right, and black doc martens on his feet. His hair is tied back in a low bun and he has his usual rings on his fingers, a studded belt and a pants chain complete the look. He was so fucking hot. Damn.

“Yeah, it’s just a little bit of corrosion. Easy fix.” He looks over his shoulder at you and you try to avert your gaze, or at least close your fucking mouth but you can tell by the smirk he gives you that he caught you gawking.

“Sweet. Thanks, Eddie.” You give him the most composed smile you can. Having him in your home was making you dizzy. You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve been around plenty of and even slept with a few other alphas but something about Eddie was different. It’s like someone made him in a factory, just for you. You wanted to climb him like a tree and shove your nose in his scent gland if you were being honest.

“Sure thing, sugar.” He leans over to grab a few tools from his toolbox and his tee shirt rides up, revealing a delicious silver of tattooed skin. The way his hands looked gripping the tools and the grunts he was letting out as he started to loosen the knob had you clenching your thighs. Not only did he look absolutely delicious, he was also taking care of you, and the omega inside warmed at the thought. His neck muscles flexed and the veins on his hands were bulging. His musky scent filled the room, and it was starting to make you dizzy. You felt a layer of sweat starting to build on your skin underneath your hoodie and you suddenly felt like how you feel the days leading up to your heat.

“I’m thirsty, do you want anything to drink?” Your voice comes out as a little shaky, despite your best efforts to center yourself. “I have umm… water, fresh squeezed lemonade, milk, tea, I could make coffee, I think I have some red wine.”

“I’ll take some of that lemonade, if you don’t mind.” He turns his body to look at you, a boyish grin plastered on his face.

“One lemonade, coming right up.” You give him a thumbs up you immediately decide was probably as awkward as the smile on your face. You just need to get away from him for a second. You turn and rush out of the bathroom, your knees buckling as you grasp onto the kitchen counter for support. “Jesus Christ, get it together.”

Your heat wasn’t due for another two weeks but you felt like it was going to happen any second. Your head was spinning, you felt feverish, the warmth of your skin causing you to rip your hoodie over your head, leaving you in just your small cropped tank and your sleep shorts. But it still felt like too much. A stabbing pain shoots through your core and causes you to cry out.

Eddie tightens the wrench tight, turning the knob off and on a few times to make sure it’s working right. When it works both times he smiles triumphantly. His smile drops immediately when he hears you cry out in what sounds like pain. He drops the wrench on the ground and runs out of the room in a panic. The minute he enters the kitchen he starts to feel dizzy. Your scent is stronger and sweeter than ever before, your hoodie is discarded on the ground next to you leaving your curves exposed to him in your little pajamas. But that’s not even the worst part. Your body is folded over the kitchen counter and covered in a shein layer of sweat, you’re panting while little whimpers escape from your lips. But worst of all? There’s saccharine sweet slick dripping down your thighs. Fuck.

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie wants to kick himself for asking, obviously you’re not. You tense at the sound of his voice, but you don’t turn to look at him. A whine louder than the others leaves your lips and your body shakes slightly.

“No - I - yeah, I’ll be fine. This is embarrassing, I’m sorry. I wasn’t due for my heat for a few weeks I wouldn’t have invited you in if-“

“Hey.” His large hand on your shoulder makes you jump at first but then it sends a feeling of relief washing through you. His scent is still overwhelming but it’s also so soothing. You want to throw yourself into his arms and inhale his scent gland until you can’t breathe anymore. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s totally natural, I’m not judging you or anything. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Your shower is fixed. I should uh - I should go.”

A whine involuntary wracks through you at the thought of him leaving, but if you asked him to stay and help you, would he? He hardly knew you. You don’t even know if you smell good to him or not. But the primal part of your brain doesn’t care, the primal part of you just wants him to make it all go away.

“I’m sorry, I just know if I stay here I’m not going to be able to control myself and I don’t want to do anything to take advantage of you or make you uncomfortable.” He pats your shoulder awkwardly, it’s taking everything in him not to rip those shorts in half and shove his cock balls deep inside you in one thrust. He knows he could, your little omega pussy is dripping and ready for his knot. Every single instinct in his body is screaming at him to help you. The thought of leaving you here alone makes him want to puke, but he also doesn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerable state. He doesn’t want you to do anything you’d regret later because he doesn’t know if he can handle being one of your regrets.

“Please.” It comes out a broken whisper but Eddie could hear you loud and clear. He was pretty sure he knew what you were asking, but he needed you to tell him.

“Please what, sugar?” His large calloused hand runs up and down your arm and you try to hold in the moan that escapes you but it slips past your lips anyways. His touch is like what you imagine taking a hit of hard drugs feels like.

“Please, help me Eddie.” You turn your head towards him, your cheek squished up against the cool countertop. You look up at him through your lashes, your lips forced into a pout. “Make it go away.”

“Sweetheart… are you sure? I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret once you have a clear head…” He pushes your hair out of your face, his thumb running along the apple of your cheek. You subconsciously nuzzle into his palm and you’re just so sweet he wants to devour you.

“Won’t regret it. Want you so bad. I can smell you all the time, you smell so good. You make me crazy. Please, I need you.” Eddie lets out an exasperated breath. So you could smell him too, and he smelled good to you. He’s never had an omega tell him that and it filled him with pride. He’s never felt truly needed by someone in the way his body biologically desired, he’s never spent a heat with an omega before. Now this pretty little thing was practically begging for him. How could he refuse?

“I can smell you too, ya know? The day you moved in I caught your scent. I’ve never smelled anything like you before, and you’re so beautiful. If we do this I don’t know how I’m going to let you go afterwards.”

“Then don’t.” You say it so matter of fact, and he can tell your awareness was slipping, soon all you’d be able to think about was his knot.

“Are you positive about this? I mean it, I’m already addicted to you and I haven’t even tasted you yet.” His thick thumb runs over your pouty bottom lip and you dart your tongue across the pad of it. You moan, the taste of his sweat sending another wave of slick down your legs.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything, alpha.” Eddie fucking growls at that, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder. He carries you to your room and tosses you on the bed. He leans over you, his ink adorned forearms on either side of your head. His face is inches from yours and you can’t take it anymore, you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth down to connect his lips to your own.

When your lips connect both of your bodies feel like they’re on fire, Eddie suddenly feels the overpowering need to protect you from anything and everything for the rest of his life, to sink his teeth into the juncture of your neck, and stuff you full of his cum. Plugging it with his knot so none escapes, and he doesn’t want to stop until you have his baby inside you. He’s not even in his rut and he’s never felt like this before in his life. Your tongues intertwine and he’s never tasted anything so sweet. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, savoring your taste, drinking up your moans.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet, just like sugar.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat, leaving open mouth kisses on your scent gland. He stops there to shove his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply. His eyes roll in the back of his head and he lets out a feral moan. “Never smelled anything sweeter either, most omegas smell a little off to me, but you? You smell divine, sweet thing.”

“Mmm Eddie, you smell so good too, never smelled anyone as good as you.” Your mind is clouded with lust, the fever rising in your body and the pain in your abdomen due to your heat making you dizzy. He pushes the front of your tank top down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Your back arches off the bed and your hands find purchase in his hair again. He reaches back to pull it free from the hair tie, his mouth switching to your other nipple.

“Glad I smell good to you, most alphas say I smell weird.” He pulls your tank top down to your hips before pushing it down with your shorts in one swift motion, leaving you in just your soaked cotton thong.

“Funny, you’re the first omega to ever tell me I smell good to them too. Maybe we were meant to be baby.” He jokes, sending you a wink before latching his mouth onto your clothed core. A growl rips through him, if he thought your spit tasted good the taste of your slick had to be the most divine cuisine known to man. His tongue flicks out to lick your sensitive clit through the material of your panties and you buck against his mouth.

“More.” If you weren’t so far gone you’d be embarrassed at how broken and desperate your voice sounds but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. All you could think about was Eddie Eddie Eddie.

“I’ll give you anything you want, baby girl, don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you.” He rips your panties down your legs and hooks your thighs over his shoulders. His face finds your now bare dripping core and he licks a stripe through your slick folds. You moan in unison, you at the feeling, and him at your intoxicating taste. He starts to tongue fuck you as deep as he can, swirling his tongue around inside your walls, collecting your nector on his tongue.

He plunges his tongue into you a few more times, savoring your taste, before dragging it up to circle your clit. The minute he wraps his lips around the sensitive bud an orgasm rips through your body. Your thighs try to clamp shut around his head and your hips raise off the bed. Eddie uses one of his hands to hold you down by the hips while two of his thick fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting them inside you. He continues to suck on your clit and you don’t even have time to come down from your first orgasm before another one is being ripped from you. Feral moans leave your lips as you rock your hips against him.

“FUCK EDDIE! Shit! Is too much, too much, sensitive.” You whine, pushing your hands against his head. He growls, his tongue licking every inch of your slick covered core before finally pulling away.

“Sorry baby, you just taste so fucking good, and those little moans are my new favorite song. Shit.” He sits up, his stubble covered chin is coated in your slick and he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You’d let him if he asked. He kisses his way up your torso, stopping to pay your tits and scent gland a little extra attention. When his lips meet your own they taste like you and him combined and you whine into his mouth.

“Eddie, please? Please fuck me? I need to feel you please please please.” You’re begging even though you know he’s going to give you what you want, but all you can think about is him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up with his knot and his cum, making all the pain go away.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay, sweet thing. Your alpha is gonna make it all go away, okay? Gonna take care of you little omega.” Your alpha, you like the sound of that.

“You’re wearing too much, take it off.” You whine, pulling at the hem of his shirt. The materials of his clothes feel suffocating against your already hot skin, and you want to feel him. He obliges, standing up to pull his shirt over his head. Your eyes roam his figure, your tongue darting out to lick your bottom lip at the sight of his ink covered muscular form. He kicks off his shoes and his hands make quick work of his belt, he undoes his pants, pushing them down with his boxers. His cock springs free, slapping against his bare stomach and a bit of drool actually dribbles down your chin. He’s perfect. Every inch of him.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re beautiful.”

“Coming from you, sugar? That’s a high honor.” He smirks, leaning over you. He takes your chin in his hand, using the grip to place a bruising kiss on your lips. He uses one hand to prop himself up on the bed while he grabs onto his thick cock in the other, running it through your folds. He taps it against your clit a few times, the combination of your slick and his precum causing it to make a sticky wet sound.

He pushes the tip of his cock into your entrance, pulling it out and pushing it back in a few times. You wiggle your hips impatiently, trying to shove him deeper inside you. He finally takes the hint, shoving his cock halfway inside you before pulling it almost all the way out again. When he pushes into you again he doesn’t stop until his balls are flush against your ass.

“Oh my god, shit!” Your hands clutch onto his back, your nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin.

“Oh fuuuuuck, your pussy is sucking me in baby. You feel so fucking good.” Almost too good, if he was being honest with himself. He’s fucked a few omegas, but never on their heat, and nobody has ever made him feel like this. It just felt so fucking right. All of it. Your scent, your touch, your kiss. It really was like you were made for him. And even though his mind was clouded with lust, as he snapped his hips into yours, burying himself deep inside you over and over again it all started to make sense to him.

He had learned a little bit about soul bounds back in highschool and he knew a few people in his life that had them but they’re so rare nowadays he had never given them much thought. But the way his ears rang when he first saw you, the electric shockwave that went through the both of you when you shook hands, how he can smell you everywhere. The fact that you’re the first omega to truly smell good to him, and he’s the first alpha to smell good to you. It all clicks into place. You were his fated mate. You really were meant for him.

“Eddieeee, you feel so good, you’re filling me up so good, I’ve never - fuck - I’ve never felt like this before.” Your nails run down his back and your walls clench around his cock as another orgasm takes you by surprise, a rush of slick coating his cock and both of your thighs. He decides while you’re fucked out like this isn’t the time to tell you about his realization, he doesn’t think you know. He’s not even sure if they still educate kids on these kinds of bonds given their rarity.

“That’s a good girl sugar, taking me so well, you gonna let me fill this little pussy up?” He grunts as he thrusts into you deep and hard. His nose finds your scent gland and he sharply inhales. “God baby, you smell so good, my sweet little omega, my sugar.”

His tongue laves out over the juncture of your throat, his teeth lightly brushing over it. God it would be so easy to just sink his teeth into your neck and mark you as his for the rest of your lives. He can tell you want him to, by the way you turn your head to bare your neck to him.

“Do it, I want it.” It’s like you read his mind.

“Baby, no. Not right now, if you still want it when you’re more clear headed we can talk about it, okay?” It was taking everything in him not to do what you were asking, he was fighting against every single instinct in his body.

“Eddie, I don't think I’ve ever thought more clearly about anything in my entire life, please? I want to be yours.” You mean it. You’ve thought about it before now, laid in bed at night as you listen to him strum his guitar. You’ve thought about more than just fucking him, you’ve fantasized about a life with him. Even if you barely knew him, you knew you wanted him.

His thrusts falter at that, he doesn’t know how long he can resist your begging. Especially when you’re begging for this. He doesn’t respond, just starts fucking you harder. His thumb finds your clit and he starts to circle it in time with his thrusts. His lips latch onto your neck and suck, if he can’t give you what you truly want right now, he hopes you’ll at least take this temporary mark. “Please alpha? Please just do it? I want it so bad, want your mark. Want your knot.”

“I know sugar, I know.” He mumbles against your neck before latching back onto it, continuing to suck bruising marks into your skin. “Why don’t you cum for me? Cum for your alpha.”

He angles his hips so the head of his cock is brushing against your sweet spot, picking up the speed of the circles on your clit. He runs his teeth along your throat, not quite biting down but nipping at it. It’s all so good, and it sends you hurtling into another mind altering orgasm.

“Oh fuck! Ohmyfuckinggod, Eddie! I’m cumming!” You wrap your legs around his waist, more slick gushes from you and your nails are digging so deep into his back he’s sure you’re starting to draw blood. He hopes you leave him some little marks of his own. He wouldn’t mind, if you bit down on his neck too. He knows it’s taboo for omegas to mark alphas but he wants to be connected to you, owned by you, in every way possible.

“That’s a good girl, good fucking girl, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful when you cum on my cock.” His hands grasp onto your hips and he leans up onto his knees as he continues to fuck into you. Your hands clutch onto his forearms and your tits bounce deliciously with every thrust.

“Want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum, put a pup inside me.” You’re cock drunk off your ass, your eyes rolled back and brimmed with tears, drool dripping from your mouth and your words are slurred as you babble things you’d never dream of saying in a normal state of mind. But Eddie hears you loud and clear, and he knows you probably don’t really mean that. But hearing it? It makes him feral.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck a baby into you, is that it? Want me to mark you and knot you and plug you full of my cum?”

“Yes! Fuck! Please fill me up, let me give you a baby, alpha!!” Eddie lets out an animalistic growl, a few more harsh thrusts and he’s spilling inside you. He shoves his hips flush against yours as ropes of his cum paint your walls.

“Oh fuuuuckkk, oh my god, shit.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vice grip, the feeling of him filling you up sending you over the edge with him. You milk him for all he’s worth, the head of his cock starts to flare and you whimper when his knot pops inside of you. “Jesus Christ.”

You both pant as he grabs onto your thighs so he can flip over with you on top of him. You lay your head on his chest and nuzzle into it, feeling safe and warm, and for the moment satisfied. You’re both quiet for a while, catching your breath and coming down from your highs.

“Eddie I-“

“Hey.” He shushes you, comfortingly running his hand down your back. “It’s okay, don’t stress, alright sugar? We can talk about all of this once you’re more clear headed. Let’s just relax for now.”

“Will you… stay?” Your voice is small, but hopeful.

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere darlin’, we are kind of connected right now.” He chuckles and it makes you laugh. “Even longer if you keep laughing like that, clenching around me and shit.”

“Sorry.” You giggle. “Will you stay… till it’s over?” You really hope he knows what you mean, because you already feel awkward enough asking as it is.

“You want me to stay with you through your heat?” His heart rate picks up, and the alpha in him sings with pride. He really hopes that’s what’s you’re asking.

“Yeah, only if you want, no pressure or anything I-“

“Baby, I’d be honored.” His hand cups your face, tilting it towards him so he can look you in the eyes. He smiles at you sweetly, his mate. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, which you return with glee. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

Would it be crazy if you said you wanted him to stay forever? Probably. Maybe not, since you were just begging him to mark you and knock you up a few minutes ago. You decide against it though, laying your head back on his chest. You shove your nose into his scent gland, inhaling him. You’ve never felt this safe with an alpha, or anyone who wasn’t your family, really. You could get used to this. You only hoped he would still want to be around you when your heat was over.

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Eddie kept true to his word, staying with you through your heat for a full week. He only left once, on the second day to go to the store for some groceries and to get things from his apartment for himself. It was a good thing he did because later that night he went into his rut and it just made the entire experience more intimate and feral. He fucked you more times and in more ways than you could count. But you didn’t just have sex, you also spent a lot of time talking, and getting to know each other.

He told you about his time growing up here, and how it wasn’t the best for him. You found out that he’s a tattoo artist, and he rides and works on motorcycles. He used to be in a band when he was younger, they still jam together sometimes but they don’t play bar shows anymore. He’s never had an omega before, not even an unofficial mate, and he explained to you that it’s because he’s never felt connected to anyone until he met you. You told him it was about the same for you. When you first presented your boyfriend at the time was an alpha and he smelled awful to you the minute his pheromones hit your nose, so you ended up breaking it off.

The morning you both woke up feeling like yourselves again you were both a bit timid. You still had another day off but he had clients today. He left to get ready for work, departing with a kiss and a promise to talk later tonight. You were hopeful. For the first time in a very long time, or maybe ever, you felt truly connected to someone.

Since you had the day off you decided you’d go visit your dad at work, you haven’t seen him since you took him those chocolate cupcakes last week and you figured you’d surprise him. He was the reason you moved here after all. He helped you open the bakery. You and him have always been close, your mom wasn’t really around when you were growing up so it was just you and him. He lived in Hawkins but he owned a tattoo shop in the next town over, only about a thirty five minute drive if there wasn’t traffic.

You went for a more simple look today, flare leggings and a cropped zip up with your doc martens. Perfect for the mid September Indiana weather. The drive went smoothly, you’ve been to your dads shop a few times, years ago when you were in your early 20s. But you haven’t seen it in a long time, usually when you visit him you just go to his house.

You push open the art covered door to the shop, the bell on the handle hits against the glass on the door and Tami, your dads wife, greets you with a surprised smile from behind the front desk.

“Well look what the cat dragged in, to what do we owe the pleasure, little lady?” You’ve always liked Tami, she and your dad got married when you were nineteen, after you had already moved out. But she was like the cool cigarette mom you never had growing up. She was probably Eddie’s age or a little younger, your dad was in his mid fifties. But she was beautiful, she looked like she stepped right out of an 80s rock music video. With her teased blonde hair and blue eyeshadow, her body adorned with almost as many tats as your dads.

“I had the day off, just figured I’d come say hey.” Your smile falters for a moment when you catch a strong whiff of Eddie’s scent, you didn’t think it would still be so strong after you showered. You knew your dad was going to ask questions, especially with the crime scene you had on your neck that you didn’t bother to cover up. You weren’t ashamed of them, you wanted people to know you were taken.

“Hey Tami do you have the reference photo for my five o'clock? I need to start drawing it up.” Your eyes shot in the direction of his voice, your heart rate immediately picking up. Okay so, you had definitely caught his scent, and it wasn’t on you. Why was he here? Oh god. He works for your fucking dad? Shit. Why didn’t you think of that? The motorcycles, tattoos, it all makes sense now. Your dad has told you about Eddie, you just didn’t think it was going to be this Eddie.

He smells you before he sees you, for a second he thought it was just your scent lingering on him like it has been for weeks now but then he saw you. He wasn’t mad you were here, just surprised. He was about to ask you how you knew where he worked when your dad came bounding out the back.

“Honey! What’re you doing here? Did you bring sweets?” Eddie has never seen your dad smile like that at anyone besides Tami, was he cheating on Tami? Did they have a side piece he didn’t know about?

“Hey dad, yeah I uh - I brought you some cookies!” Dad!? Holy fuck. That’s when your name goes off like an alarm in Eddie’s head, he didn’t think to make that connection until now. He’s seen pictures of you as a kid, and even a few of you as a teenager but you looked so different now he never would’ve recognized you from those. You were Dale’s fucking daughter? Jesus Christ. He was so fucking fucked.

“You’re too good to me, the best daughter ever, I swear.” Your dad walks over to you and engulfs you in a hug, taking the container filled with cookies from your hands when he pulls away. “Although, what’s going on with this crime scene on your neck? You have a little boyfriend here already?”

“Ha! Thanks dad, you’re the best too. Its uh - there’s not really a label on it yet or anything, if there’s anything to tell, I’ll let you know.” You smile at him, clearing your throat. You avoid making eye contact with Eddie, knowing you’ll probably lose your cool if you do. Especially when your dad is talking about what he did to your neck. You’re trying really hard to keep calm but you’re practically screaming on the inside. Eddie worked for your dad, and had for almost a decade now. He’s told you about Eddie, they’re close friends, and your dad was his tattoo mentor. He probably wouldn’t want to see you now. You felt like your heart was breaking already. You were definitely going to have to find a new apartment.

“Angel, this is Eddie, Eddie this is my daughter.” Your dad says your name so proudly it makes you internally cringe. You fucked his friend. Not just fucked, you spent your heat and his rut with him. You asked him to mark you, he knotted you, and if you were being honest? You hadn’t been clear headed enough to think about it until today but you weren’t on birth control.

“We know each other actually!” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to burst out of his head, and he coughs, choking on his spit. “He’s my neighbor! You’d know that if you came to see my place already, dad.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, trying to start up your usual banter, hoping you’re pulling it off.

“Oh, yeah! She moved into Chris’ old place, she baked for me and I helped her with her shower. You raised a good one, Dale.” Eddie smiles at his old friend, his heart feeling like it was going to fall out of his ass. He knew how protective your dad was of you, he remembers how he used to talk shit about your old beta boyfriend. Not only that but Dale was one of the big alphas in the area, if he casted Eddie out, everyone would.

“Aww! Good man Ed, thanks for helping my girl out. And you! How’s the bakery? Things good?” Your dad takes a large bite of one of the cookies, his other hand lovingly shaking your shoulder.

“It’s good, yeah, things are good. You were right about putting it close to the highschool, tons of kids come in on their lunches and even some teachers too. I’m working on perfecting this new pie recipe right now, I’ll have to bring you a few different slices to try out.”

“Well duh, I’m always right, and I swear you’re trying to fatten me up.” Your dad laughs his signature laugh, it’s deep, bellowy, and contagious. You loved him so much. But that didn’t change how you felt about Eddie, if he still wanted to see you, you wouldn’t turn him down.

You made small talk with your dad and Tami for a bit longer, Eddie had excused himself to the back and it honestly made you want to cry right then and there. You wish your dad and step mom a goodbye without seeing him again and walk out of the shop with a heavy heart. You drive home on autopilot, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.

When you get home you flop yourself down on the couch in defeat. You would finally meet a guy and he’d end up being one of your dads oldest friends. Would he ever even talk to you again? He probably regretted the entire thing. But if you could go back in time, you’d do it all again.

A few minutes into your wallowing your phone goes off and when Eddie’s name pops up on that tiny front screen you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“I’ll come see you after work so we can talk, hope you’re okay.”

You let out a deep breath, at least he was talking to you, right? That text he sent you this morning about already missing you sitting above the new one was like a slap in the face in comparison. Hours ago he was texting you “Miss you already, can’t wait to see you tonight, sugar. Have a good day ;)” and now it seemed like he was about to tell you he couldn’t see you anymore. You had around three hours until Eddie would be home from work, and you have no idea what to do with yourself. You wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear if you were being honest. So you did the next best thing, you took a nap.

The sound of banging on your door had you shooting straight up in bed. When you look around it’s already dark out and when you gaze at the clock on your nightstand you realize it’s already past six thirty. Had you napped that long?

“Sweetheart, I know you’re home, I saw your car outside. Can we please just talk?” Shit. You throw your covers off and dash out of your room to the front door. You open it to reveal a very distressed looking Eddie and it cracks your heart a little.

“Hi Eddie…”

“Hey, can we talk?” The look on his face is hard to read, you can’t gauge how he’s feeling at all and it only peaks your anxiety.

“Yeah, sure.” You step aside to let him in and take a seat on the far end of the couch. You try not to take it personally when he sits all the way across from you but it stings just a little.

“So uh - your dad is… my boss.” Eddie clears his throat awkwardly while his knee bounces up and down. His eyes search your face and he can tell you’re upset. Not just by that but from your scent too. He can smell how anxious you are and he hates that he’s the cause of it.

“Ha! That’s putting it lightly, Eddie…” You laugh dryly.

“Yeah, so, he’s one of my closest friends, the alpha of my pack, annnnd I kind of owe him everything for giving me a chance at the shop.” Eddie sighs, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Yeah I know, I knew he had a friend named Eddie, I just didn’t know it would be you. So I get it, if you don’t want to see me anymore. It’s not like we are actually anything to each other anyways, just because you spent my heat with me doesn’t mean you owe me anything. I can find a new apartment and I won’t come into the shop anymore it’ll be fine I can-“

“That’s the problem though, I can’t stay away from you, sweetheart.” He looks you straight in the eye as he says it, and his voice sounds so sure.

“What do you mean? Eddie, you hardly know me, it’s really okay, I wouldn’t want you to risk everything for me.” You sigh, your head falling between your shoulders. “If my dad knew, he would lose it. I know that, and you know that. I don’t want you to lose your job, or be an outcast.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want those things either. But, that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t stay away from you. Darlin’, do you know what soul bounds are?”

“Oh.” He watches your eyes widen and your jaw drop open in realization.

“Yeah, I think we uh - I think we might have one. So when I say I can’t stay away from you, I mean it’ll fucking kill me to.” The look on Eddie’s face has you on the brink of tears, you want to throw yourself into his arms and rub your face all along his scent gland to comfort him.

“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense, actually. It kind of feels like my whole entire life since I presented makes sense, now that I think about it.” You let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for years. You never thought you’d find a mate, but here he was, made just for you. “Well, my dad can’t really do shit then. He can’t keep us apart, and if he tries to do anything to you I’ll tell him that I’m going with you wherever you go.”

“Sweetheart.” He takes your hands in his and a feeling of relief instantly washes over you. “I can’t ask you to do that… I know how close you and your dad are from the way he talks about you.”

“Okay, well you didn’t ask me to, I want to. I never thought I’d find a mate, I genuinely thought there was something wrong with me because of my scent. But now, I find you? My soulmate? I can’t lose you Eddie.” You squeeze his hands and run your thumbs over the backs of them reassuringly.

“I feel the same, I spent my whole life being an outcast, and then when I presented as an alpha I thought maybe I’d finally get some form of respect. But instead every single person that was supposed to be biologically attracted to me told me there was something ‘off’ about my scent. Not that they necessarily smelled good to me either, but it was still a blow to my ego. But then you show up? This sweet little thing bringing me a pie in her tiny little dress? You’ve made me feel more wanted in a few weeks than I have my entire life.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst at his speech, you can’t believe hours ago you thought you were disposable to him. You grab his face in your hands, kissing him with fever. He groans into your mouth, his hands finding your hips as he returns your kiss with equal enthusiasm. He pulls you into his lap and you kiss each other until you both feel like your lungs are going to burst and you have to pull away for air.

“Can we maybe wait a bit, to tell my dad? I just want to enjoy this for a bit, before shit hits the fan.” You rest your forehead against his, your hands still holding his face tenderly.

“Absolutely, I think I’d like to live a little longer.” Eddie chuckles and you laugh along with him.

“Shut up! I’m not going to let him kill you, I swear. I’ll be like, your knight in shining armor.”

“Oh yeah? Sugars going spicy on me? Is that it?” He nuzzles his nose against yours before dragging it down your cheek, jaw, and then down your scent gland. He inhales before placing a gentle kiss there.

“Oh, you have noooo idea.” He tickles your sides and you laugh, wiggling around in his lap.

“Hmm, I think I wanna find out, you wanna show me this spicy side?” He kisses your neck again, gently nipping at it.

“Absolutely. Think you can take the heat?” You lean back and wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“Ooohh you’re in for it now!!” He laughs, tackling you down on the couch. Sending you both into a fit of giggles.

He climbs on top of you, his arms bracketing either side of your head, his hair like a halo around his head with the way your lamp light was glowing behind him.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You smile up at him sweetly, he doesn’t think he will ever get tired of hearing you say that.

“Yeah? You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He sends you a wink that has butterflies fluttering in your belly. The flutters quickly turn into an eruption when he connects his lips with yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan at the taste of him. The kisses turn heated when you roll your hips up against his, a low groan rumbling through him.

“I want you, Eddie.” You mumble against his mouth, your tongue darting out to lick across his plump, kiss swollen bottom lip.

“I’m all yours, sweetheart.” He places another hungry kiss on your lips before littering open mouth kisses along your jaw and throat. He laves his tongue out along your collar bones, kissing down your chest. He mouths at your nipples through the thin material of your tank top, swirling his tongue around them until they are both peaked. He grabs the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. “Perfect tits. Perfect body. Perfect little omega.”

“Mmm, just for you, alpha, all for you.” Your hands greedily pull at the hem of his faded band tee and he obliges you, using one hand to pull it over his head. “Wanna taste you, alpha, can I?”

“If you keep looking at me like that? Sugar, I’ll give you anything you want.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

You look up at him with big round eyes as you moan at the taste of him. He stands in front of the couch and you push yourself up onto your knees, perfectly eye level with the very prominent bulge in his pants. You make quick work of his belt, undoing his pants so you can push them down over his hips with his boxers. His cock springs free, a bead of pearly white precum drips from his slit and you can’t resist leaning forward to lick it off.

“Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” Baby. Chills run through his entire body. You’ve never called him that before, and it was doing things to him he didn’t think were possible.

You suck his tip, swirling your tongue around it like you did with his thumb. You take him all the way in your mouth, gagging when he hits the back of your throat. Drool fills your mouth and you pull off to him to spit into your palm without breaking eye contact with him. You bring your hand to his shaft, jerking him off with your lubed up palm a few times before taking half of him in your mouth again. Your mouth works in tandem with your hand at the base of his cock, your tongue caressing that thick vein that runs along the bottom of his shaft.

“Oh fuuuuck.” Eddie throws his head back, his thick neck adorned with veins, his Adam’s Apple bobs as he groans at the feeling of you swallowing him down. “That’s so good, your mouth is so good.”

His fingers thread through your hair and he looks back down at you. He has to close his eyes again seconds later to keep himself from exploding down your throat right then and there. Your eyes were rimmed with tears, your mascara that was already smudged from your nap running down your cheeks, drool was dripping down the sides of your mouth and the way you were looking at him like he hung the stars with his dick down your throat made him insane. You move your hand so you can take him all the way in your mouth again. Your throat flexes around him when you gag and he has to use his grip on your hair to pull you off. You whine, trying to take him back into your mouth.

“Baby girl, I’m sorry, but you gotta stop or I’m going to fucking lose it, and I really want to fill you with my cum and just keep fucking you until your body is limp.” He grabs your chin in his hand, his thumb spreading the drool on your mouth all around your lips. “Turn around, all fours.”

You position yourself on your hands and knees on top of the couch cushions, arching your back and wiggling your ass in the air. Eddie groans at the sight, walking up behind you, he hooks his fingers in the band of your tiny sleep shorts, pulling them down with your panties where they pool at the bottom of your bent knees. His hands roughly grab onto your ass cheeks, spreading them so he can see your messy cunt. You clench around nothing and a little yelp escapes you when you feel his spit drip down onto your already wet cunt.

“Fuuuuck Eddie, please, touch me.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m always going to give you what you want, sweet thing.” He runs his fingers through your slit, gathering your wetness and rubbing it around. He circles your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. Two fingers circle your entrance and push inside you. He curves them just right, rubbing them against that sweet spot inside you before he starts to thrust them in and out of you.

“Oh shit! Yes, yes, yes, Eddie, fuck.” His thumb finds your clit while he continues to fuck his fingers into you and you’re already embarrassingly close to cumming.

“You gonna cum already, baby? I can feel your pussy sucking my fingers in.” He curves his fingers against your g-spot again and it’s the final straw. A feral moan rips through you and your pussy spasms around his fingers. “Oh that’s it, good girl, cum for me, cum for your alpha.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from inside you, bringing them to his mouth, moaning at your sweet taste. You hear him kicking off his jeans the rest of the way before the couch dips behind you. He positions himself on his knees, taking his cock in his hand. He runs it through your wet lips, the tip of it bumping against your clit with each stroke.

“Baby, don’t tease me.” You whine, pushing your hips back against him. “Need your cock.”

He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes inside with one thrust. You’re so wet the stretch barely burns, almost immediately turning into immense pleasure. He doesn’t waste any time starting up at a brutal pace. His hips slap against your ass, his balls bumping your clit whenever he thrusts at a certain angle.

“Fuck, this pussy really was fucking made for me. She’s sucking me in like a vice grip.” His hand pushes down on your lower back and you take the hint, resting your cheek on the couch cushion so your back is arched further, your ass as far in the air as it can go. This new angle has him hitting deeper than before, his hand snakes around your front to rub your clit and it sends you over the edge again.

“Oh god - oh fuck, Eddie!!!” Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, you push your hips back against him, fucking him deeper into you as you ride out your high.

He wraps his forearm around the front of your shoulders, using his grip to pull your back flush against his chest. He’s deeper than ever before, practically abusing your g-spot in the best way. The slight pressure on your throat from the way his arm is pinning you to his body is delicious, and when his fingers resume their ministrations on your clit it already has you close to the edge again. His mouth latches onto your scent gland, sucking a bruise into it.

“Mark me alpha, please please, I want to be yours. Please do it, I want it so bad.” Your hands reach behind you, lacing your fingers in his curls. You arch your back so you can bare your neck to him. Eddie thinks about telling you no again, he considers telling you he’d like to wait until you tell your dad.

But the primal part of him quickly erases those thoughts. He wants to please you, in every way possible. He wants to claim you. He doesn’t want to tell you no. So he doesn’t. He runs his nose along your scent gland, inhaling your otherworldly scent. He runs his teeth along the juncture of your throat before sinking them into your soft flesh.

The feeling sends you both over the edge. His teeth are still clamped down on your neck. Your cunt is squeezing him tight while ropes of his cum spill inside you. Everything felt so right, and it wasn’t just the fact that it was the best orgasm of your life. Your entire body felt warm, your heart felt full, you felt so connected to Eddie. It was everything. His knot swells inside you, popping out to connect you in every way possible. He pulls away from your neck, soothing the bloody teeth marks with his warm tongue.

“Wow.” He breaths out, carefully leaning back towards the arm of the couch and pulling you with him. He circles his arms around you, caging you in his embrace.

“Yeah, wow is right.” You chuckle, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” He runs his hands through your hair, down your chest, his fingers stop to trace the bloodied mark on your throat. “Are you okay with everything?”

“I’m fantastic. I’ve never been happier than I am at this moment, Eddie Munson. If you’re lucky, I’m lucky as hell. I’m glad it’s you, I’m glad you’re my mate.” You tilt your head to the side so you can look up at him.

“Me too, Sugar, me too.” He looks down at your adoringly, taking your face in his hand and leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️

You’ve been seeing Eddie in mostly secret for the last few months. You told your best friend back home over the phone and he told his friends Steve and Robin. Things were fantastic, for the most part. He’s taken you on a few dates, either out of town or somewhere people wouldn’t see you. He made you happier than you’ve ever been in your entire life but sneaking around was getting old fast.

Eddie was for lack of better words, paranoid. You’ve spent every night together since he mated you. Either at his place or at your own. But every morning after he showered for work he would put clothes on directly from the dryer, then immediately douse himself with cologne. He always kisses you before his shower because he refuses to come within three feet of you afterwards. He was absolutely terrified of showing up to your dad’s shop for work smelling like his daughter that he was seeing in secret. After a few weeks of that you both decided it was easier if you went your separate ways when you woke up and did your morning routines on your own. Which you hated, you loved the domesticity of waking up and going about your morning with him.

You also hadn’t seen your dad since the day Eddie mated you, always making up excuses when he invited you for dinner or asked to come see your place finally. You lucked out on your day off when he decided to come into the bakery for a surprise visit. You hated it, if you were being honest. You’ve never hid anything from him, especially not something this big. He was a pretty laid back parent when you were growing up, so you never really felt the need to lie to him.

It was Sunday evening, you and Eddie both had the day off so he took you out on his bike. He drove a few towns over to take you to this vintage book store he thought you’d like, he showed you the oldest cemetery in Indiana, which you adored, and then he took you out to lunch.

When you got back to his apartment you wanted to show him how grateful you really were for how thoughtful the dates he took you on always were. You rode him till he came and his knot was buried deep inside you, then you just kept riding him until he came again. You both dozed off cozy in each other's arms not long after that.

You wake up before Eddie, feeling sick to your stomach. You climb out of bed, carefully untangling yourself from him so you don’t wake him up and throw on one of his shirts and your panties from earlier so you can go into the kitchen for a glass of water. You chug it greedily, trying to will the nausea away. You might have one other, not so little secret. Last week you were at the bakery running numbers and planning for the weeks ahead when the calendar on the wall caught your eye. You started doing some math in your head and immediately told your employee Brooke that you needed to run to the store. You bought three different pregnancy tests and every single one screamed back at you with two lines, pregnant, or a little pink plus sign.

You hadn’t told Eddie yet, and you were surprised he hadn’t realized it since omegas scents usually change when they’re pregnant. Either he hadn’t noticed, or he was waiting for you to tell him on your own terms. If he hadn’t though? It was only a matter of time before he did. You had no idea how he would react, sure things were said in the heat of the moment during sex but you and him have never actually talked about having kids. That, and he was already afraid to tell your dad that you were mates, now you were going to have to tell him you were knocked up with his best friend’s kid too. Despite all that, you want this baby, you want a life and a family with Eddie. He would be a good dad, kind, goofy, attentive. Would your baby have his eyes? His hair? The sound of a knock on the door rips you from your daydreams.

Who the hell was here? You weren’t expecting anyone. Should you wake Eddie? It’s his door, after all.

“Hey Ed, you home? Wanted to talk to you about something!” The sound of your dads voice makes your blood run cold. Shit. You dash down the hall towards Eddie’s room where he’s stumbling out of the doorway while slipping on gray sweatpants. He already has a tee shirt on and his eyes meet yours in a panic.

“It’s my fucking dad, does he fucking know?” You whisper-yell at him. Eddie shrugs at you with panicked eyes.

“Go in the room, in case it’s about something else, maybe I can get him to leave.” He grabs your shoulders, directing you towards the room. You go inside, shutting the door behind you. You feel like a fucking teenager sneaking around with her boyfriend instead of a grown ass woman with her mate, and you hated it. You almost want to just go open the door yourself and get it over with.

Eddie knows damn well that if your dad is here for a different reason, it won’t make a difference. His place definitely smells like you, there’s absolutely no way it doesn’t. He takes a deep breath before pulling the door open.

“Hey Dale, what’s up man?” Eddie feels like he’s going to shit his pants, your dad is taller than him by a few inches but bigger than him in mass by a lot. He could absolutely kick his ass if he wanted to. He also really didn’t want to disappoint him. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tired of sneaking around.

“Hey brother, you got a minute to talk? I wanted to run something by you.” Oh fuck, does he fucking know? Is he playing it cool and any second he’s going to choke Eddie to death?

“Yeah, sure man. What’s up?”

“You gonna let me in?” The older man chuckles, raising an eyebrow at his younger mentee.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, come in.” Eddie steps aside to let him in and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. This was it, this is where he dies.

“Whoa! It fucking reeks in here, you got an omega you’re keeping a secret, Ed?” You hear your dad chuckle through the door and internally cringe.

“Uh - I mean - “

“Hold on…” Your dad audibly sniffs the air and Eddie watches his expression harden, his eyebrows furrow and the look in his eyes is the one Eddie has been terrified of. He looks like he wants to kill him. “Eddie… What the fuck is going on here man? Why the hell does your apartment reek like my daughter?”

You take that as your queue to enter, pulling Eddie’s door open and walking out to face the music.

“Hey dad…” You wave awkwardly, trying to use your other hand to make the shirt you’re wearing longer, suddenly very aware of your lack of pants.

Your dad takes in your appearance. Your disheveled hair, Eddie’s shirt, the mark on your neck. His nostrils flare and a growl rips through him. He darts at Eddie, grabbing him by the collar of his tee shirt and shoving him against the nearest wall. A stack of empty mixing bowls knock off the counter in the commotion and your dad shoves his forearm against Eddie’s throat.

“I can’t fucking believe you!! After all I’ve done for you!?” His voice drops to an authoritative alpha tone and growls continue to rumble in his chest. You’ve never seen your dad this pissed before.

“Dale, I’m sorry, I - I didn’t mean for this to happen! It’s not what you’re thinking if you just let me explain-“

“EXPLAIN!? Explain how you mated my only child!? I don’t think there’s much to explain here, Ed! It’s pretty fucking clear what happened here!!!” Your dad bellows, shoving his arm tighter against Eddie’s throat, causing him to gasp.

“Dad!!! Fucking stop!!!” You run over and grab onto your dads forearm to try and rip it off of Eddie. To no avail, he was strong as hell. “It’s not his fault! We couldn’t help it! He’s my mate! We have a bond! You can’t hurt him without hurting me! He’s mine! Get the fuck off of him!!”

“A bond? What? Like a trauma bond? Because this situation is fucked.” Your dad turns his head to look at you, his lips set to a snarl, his arm still locking Eddie in place.

“No, a soul bound, dumb ass! He’s my mate, my fated mate! Get the fuck off of him!!!” A growl of your own rumbles through your chest, your hands trying and failing yet again to pull your dad from your alpha.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he should’ve come to me like a man and told me the minute he found out! You’re a fucking coward and you don’t deserve someone like my daughter!” He was clearly irrational, his scent nearly suffocating you with how thickly it was permeating the air.

“IM PREGNANT!!!” Two pairs of wide eyes snap toward you, Eddie’s mouth is dropped open in shock, your dad looks like he’s going to puke.

“YOU’RE WHAT!?” Your dad shouts, his grip on Eddie subconsciously loosens and he takes the opportunity to slip free from his grasp. He rushes to your side, taking your face in his hands.

“Are you really? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you okay?”

“I was going to, I was just - I was nervous about how you’d react.” You avert your gaze from his, afraid to look him in the eyes when you hear his response.

“Hey.” His hands thumbs run across the apples of your cheeks and he lowers his face so you're forced to make eye contact with him. “If you ever thought I’d be anything less than stoked to have a baby with you, you’re crazy.”

“Really?” Your eyes well with tears and your bottom lip trembles. As your dad watches this entire exchange his face starts to soften. He looks between you and Eddie, taking in the way you look at each other and your body language. He also doesn’t miss the way that the panic in your scent is now nonexistent.

“Of course, Sugar. I want everything with you, I love you.”

“I - I love you too, Eddie.” The tears that were threatening to escape before are now cascading down your cheeks. He uses his thumbs to wipe them away, placing a gentle kiss on your nose.

“Dale.” Eddie turns towards your dad, putting his arm around your shoulders. “I love your daughter, and I know it’s not ideal, but she’s my mate, my fated mate, and the mother of my child. You can fire me, cast me out, do your absolute worst. But I won’t leave their side unless I’m dead and gone.”

“If you cast Eddie out, I’m going with him.” You nuzzle into your alphas side, putting your hand on his chest.

“Hold on now, nobody’s casting anybody out, or firing anybody. I’m sorry for ya know, kinda choking you out there, Ed. This was just… a shock.”

“I know dad.” You step away from Eddie to rest a hand on your dads shoulder. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you right away, but that was on me, not Eddie. I told him I wanted to wait to tell you, and it’s not like we planned this. We didn’t even realize you knew each other until that day I came into the shop.”

“He still should’ve told me, or you should’ve. I know I’m protective of you but if you told me all of this, yeah I would’ve been mad, but I would’ve heard you out. It’s not so bad, now that I think about it. You guys make a lot of sense actually.” Your dads hand comes to rest on top of yours on his shoulder. “I always wanted you to find a good man, and I know Eddie is a good man. I know he will take care of you. Plus, I’ve never seen him like this, I’m uh - I’m happy for you guys.”

“And notttt to call you out or anything dad, but Tami is like 12 years younger than you and you met her when she was in her 20s, just saying.” You roll your eyes and playfully squeeze his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I get it, I reacted poorly. So… I’m gonna be a pop pop?” Your dads now tear brimmed eyes search yours.

“Yeah dad, you’re gonna be a pop pop.” Tears flow from your eyes and he pulls you into one of his signature bear hugs. You sob into his chest, finally feeling whole again. You really missed him. “I hated lying to you, I’m sorry.”

“Hey honey, what’s done is done, we’re okay now, alright?” He rubs your back lovingly, pushing you back so he can look at your face. “I’m happy for you. Come here, Ed, get your dumb ass over here.”

Eddie chuckles, wiping a tear from underneath his eye, your dad pulls him into a hug, that he happily returns.

“You gonna take good care of my girl?” Your dad pulls back, one hand gripping Eddie’s shoulder, the other pointed at his chest. A joking glare set on his features.

“Yeah Dale, I’m gonna do everything I can for the rest of my life to make sure that woman, and our child are safe and happy.” That only makes you cry more, which has Eddie rushing to your side to take him into his arms.

“Okay, I came here to talk to you about some work shit but that can wait, I’ll leave you two to talk and celebrate amongst yourselves.” Your dad walks over to you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m proud of you, pumpkin, in everything you do. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Yeah dad, of course not, never. You’re going to be the best pop pop, you know that?”

“Alright, alright, stop making me cry. I love you.” He ruffles your hair, turning to Eddie. “Have a good night, Ed. I’ll see ya at work tomorrow, congratulations.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As soon as your dad shuts the door behind him Eddie is taking you in his arms, spinning you around.

“Whoa, Eddie, motion sickness.” You giggle and he sets you gently back down on your feet.

“We’re really having a baby?” His chocolate eyes shine as his hands come to rest on your abdomen, staring at it adoringly.

“Yeah, we’re really having a baby.” The tears that you can’t seem to get to stop stream down your cheeks and you rest your hands on top of his.

“There’s no one in the world I’d rather start a family with, I love you, sugar.” Eddie rests his forehead against yours, nuzzling your noses together.

“Me either, I love you so much, baby.” One of Eddie’s hands laces through your hair while the other cups your neck, his thumb caressing the mark he left there all those weeks ago. He connects his lips with yours and everything in the world just feels right.

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milky-aeons · 7 months

Text

— 'TIL DEATH DO US PART

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.

warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k

ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.

Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"

: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.

: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.

: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;

"You — are absolutely breath-taking."

: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.

"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."

: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.

𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .

"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"

Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.

"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.

And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.

ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎

: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.

: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!

: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.

: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."

: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.

: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.

"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."

: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .

"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.

Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.

But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;

"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"

Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.

"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.

He grunted. "Same... thing."

ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.

: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!

Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?

: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.

: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.

: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .

"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.

"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"

"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.

And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.

"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."

ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.

: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.

: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.

: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;

"There you are, my wife."

: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.

: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.

: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .

"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."

"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."

Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.

He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.

"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."

ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.

: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.

"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.

: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;

"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."

: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.

: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

"Fyodor?"

"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.

"Why did you ask to marry me?"

Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.

Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."

requested by the lovely [ @cocodrilofeliz! ]

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maxlarens · 1 month

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saw that your requests are open! currently moving flats and cities and wow this is utterly exhausting and scary to do alone - would love to read a lil something with Lando where reader is moving and maybe it's pre relationship but they've known each other a long time and he somehow shows up to help reader out, in between races / on break whatever. Tysm!

omg good luck! genuinely moving is the worst and good on you for doing it all on your own that must be so difficult. i hope you enjoy this💝 i did it with best friend!reader, felt very perfect. and apparently i had some personal insecurities to address?

You’re starting to regret listening to Lando.

This isn’t a new feeling— you often regret listening to Lando. When he begs you to come out only to inevitably disappear with a girl. When he says that you look fine, only for you to look in a mirror and find your hair at weird angles or your makeup smudged. When he invites you to a race just for you to have to spend an awkward three hours around one of his flings; inevitably ending in disaster when he hops out of the car and hugs you first.

Lando’s not an idiot. Lando just doesn’t always know how to plan ahead.

Move to Monaco, he’d said. And you had. At the very least you’d had professional movers and your family then. It was hard work but you’d had help. Still, it had been such a nightmare that you’d sworn off moving again, deciding that the next time you did it’d be somewhere more permanent. That had been a nice dream— perhaps unattainable with Lando around.

It had been great, perfect even, or at least until Lando had found out about the vacant flat in his building. Then you’d been subject to a month of pointed sighs and wouldn’t it be awesome if we lived in the same building and we could work out at the same gym and we’d see each other all the time! Wouldn’t that be great?

You’d tried to tell him that you already see each other all the time, and if it really mattered to him you’d come all the way to his gym to work out. But Lando’s Lando and doesn’t know how to let a thing that he wants go. It quickly becomes a point of contention, a reason for him to whinge at dinner and direct his green puppy dog eyes at you. So, y’know, of course you fold.

Of course you do.

You don’t want him to feel unwanted. And you really do like the idea of living in the same building as him, even if moving is the last fucking thing you want to do.

You hire people to move the big things. The couch, the fridge, the bed. But you’re left with everything else and only your hatchback to move it with. You’ve collected truly an insurmountable amount of things— dishware, linens, random trinkets, clothes and books and decorative stuffed animals. You don’t realise how much it is until you’re packing it into cardboard boxes all on your own and nearly crying at how long it’s taking you.

By some cruel twist of fate there’s no one available to help you. All your friends in Monaco are Lando-adjacent, either his friends or people you’ve met through F1. You’ve got a few work buddies, but no one you feel like you can ask to give you a hand. Besides, Lando’s racing at Spa over the same weekend you’ve got to be out of your old flat— so you can’t rope him and his friends into your mess. Even Fewtrell, who would help, is on holiday.

By Monday morning you’re at your wits end. You’d slept on a thin little futon for three hours last night, and are up bubble wrapping dishes before the sun rises. You’ve got noise cancelling headphones on, blasting some house music playlist that Oscar had recommended you and you’re trying to be okay— trying to let the jumpy beat lift the panic in your heart. But you can feel yourself hiccuping, crying rather. You wipe salty tears off the bubble wrap to make sure the sticky tape stays.

It’s fine. You’re fine.

It’s just overwhelming. Doing this all alone, in Monaco, without your Mum, your Dad, without your best friend. It’s not anyone’s fault, not even Lando’s. Just you and this feeling of inadequacy that you harbour. This sense that you’re not grown up enough, that you’re not accomplished enough. Lando’s out there driving a Formula One car, flying in a private jet and partially running a business and you’re here crying over the amount of shit that you’ve accumulated.

It’s just—

You hear a faint thud, muffled by your headphones. Heart racing, thinking something might have fallen or broken, you rip them off and clamber up off the carpeted floor. You’re ready to run into the hallway, your bedroom, every room that’s still got things in it to find the inevitable wreckage.

But it’s just Lando—

Standing at your front door in an old t-shirt and shorts, with cardboard boxes tucked under his arm. He’s frowning at you. You’re not sure why until you remember that you’re still in yesterday’s clothes and there are dark circles carved out under your eyes. Tear tracks down your face as well, probably.

“What’s wrong?”

He drops the cardboard, it goes sliding onto the floor and he has to dodge out of its way as he steps towards you.

You shake your head, sniffing, “I’m fine, Lan.”

You don’t quite reject his attempt at a hug, just dodge it slightly. Force him to give you a one-armed, half-hearted thing, instead of the squeezing, reassuring hug you’re sure he meant to give you. He grumbles something into your hair that you can’t hear then says,

“Well, clearly you’re not fine.”

You sigh, push him away in your anger at yourself, “I’m fine, Lando. I just— I just can’t do anything on my own as per usual.”

You watch his shoulders drop, his eyebrows press into the bridge of his scarred nose, concern flooding his face. He shakes his head minutely, pink lips parting slightly.

“What are you saying?”

You shrug, looking away and feeling shame fill the cavity in your chest at your admittance of weakness, “You know what I’m saying.”

“That’s absolute shit and you know it,” he cuts back, “You’ve done all this by yourself haven’t you?”

He gestures around you and admittedly the room is rather empty of things. The whole flat in fact. You’ve got just the little things left pretty much, and a bunch of cardboard boxes that are ready to be ferried over to your new building. It’s not nothing that you’ve managed to do over the weekend. You sniff again.

“Don’t say that crap,” he manhandles you into a hug, winding an arm around the back of your shoulders, pulling you to him, “I’d have to pay movers a couple grand to move all my shit, you know that. I wouldn’t be able to get any of this done.”

“Yes you would,” you mutter into his chest, “You’re capable of things.”

He shakes you, just a little, like trying to knock some sense into you, like trying to make you hear your own words, “Okay. Then so are you.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I guess.”

After a moment, he brings a hand up to your face, uses his thumb to tenderly wipe the tears that pool in your tear duct. You don’t think anything of it then— but you do later—

When the sun is setting over the water and you and Lando are watching it and eating takeaway burgers on your new balcony, in your new flat, that has every single bit of your stuff in it. And you’re thinking about the feeling of pad of his finger on your cheek and how he’s just spent his first day of a very well-deserved summer break helping his friend move—

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for Ibiza?”, you cut him a bit of an admonishing look, and scold yourself for not remembering sooner, not urging him to go pack.

He shrugs, turning his green gaze to you, the light of the sunset making him glow, “‘S fine. I can join later.”

You bite your lip, resisting the urge to tell him to go start packing straight away. You won’t change his mind, once he’s got his heart set on something he doesn’t know how to let it go.

“Will you come with me?”, he asks suddenly eager, as your heart skips several beats, “I know you said you had this to deal with. But.”

“But?”

“But. I want you to come. It’ll be no fun without you.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Ibiza will be no fun without me?”

He nods, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You’re going to say no. It’s on the tip of your tongue, on the verge of slipping out. You’ve got a million boxes to unpack, all your clothes are in suitcases, this is what your holiday leave is meant to be used for. Not the trip to Ibiza that you’d already said no to—

But, it’s Lando.

Of course you fold.

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #💫drabbles #drabbles:ln4 #best friend!reader

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puckinghischier · 3 months

Text

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wonder what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.

609 notes · View notes

metalmonki · 5 months

Text

50 Ways To Say Goodbye

911 x fem!reader

5k word count

Summary The 911 helps you escape your abusive ex but in true 118 dumb, dumb stile they create a bigger problem that Athena has to fix.

fluff, idiots

Warnings mention and description of death, domestic abuse and self-harm.

Note: I've been working on the next part of The Dating Oddessey while listening to some music. 50 Ways To Say Goodbye by Train came on and gave me this idea. Didn't quite turn out how I wanted but its still pretty funny. Also you could take this to mean either Eddie or Buck has feelings for you. Not how I intended it but it's how it came out.

...

Today you had finally done it. You had finally worked up the courage to break up with your horrible excuse for a human ex Bradley. You made sure to break up with him while he was working so you had witnesses. The last thing you needed was him gaslighting you back into the relationship like last time. With witnesses, it was harder for him to say the breakup never happened.

Today had been planned out for weeks. Your best friends, Eddie and Buck, had been helping you slowly remove your stuff from his house for the last month and taking it to your Dad's place. You did have much, after all, Bradley didn’t allow you to have much. He had to control everything from the furniture to the decorations and even the food kept in the house.

Outside Bradley's workplace Buck and Eddie were waiting for you in Eddie's truck. Your Dad, Bobby, was their boss and had given them the day off to play bodyguard for you. When you walked out the front door with Bradley storming after you both boys were fast to jump out of the truck and jog towards you. Eddie wasn’t going to let him hurt you anymore and Buck didn’t want what happened to his sister Maddie to happen to you for that reason Eddie had hidden a lot of what Bradley had done to you from all your friends and even your Dad. Eddies had been the house you would hide in for days at a time while waiting for bruises to heal. Eddie had been the person to give you that final push you needed to leave.

“What if next time he kills you y/n? Did you think of that?” Eddie slammed his fist onto his kitchen counter as you held a bag of frozen peas to your soon-to-be black eye. “Do you have any idea what that would do to me? To Chris? Hell, think about your father and Athena. The rest of our friends. We all love you y/n and yet you keep allowing yourself to be treated like shit. You know what if you're going to go back to him this time then I don’t want you in my house, take your things and leave” Eddie had left the kitchen, leaving you standing there shocked to your core. It scared you. More than the beatings. You didn’t want to lose Eddie as your friend, you didn’t want to hurt him or Chris, your family, your friends. Eddie was right enough was enough.

After that night you had come clean with everyone about what was happening. Athena was quick to offer up their spare room for you and Bobby wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eddie and Maddie had to keep Buck distracted at all times until your items were moved out of Bradley's house because he threatened to kill the guy if he laid eyes on him. So when Buck and Eddie saw him coming up fast behind you screaming at you Eddie made sure to direct Buck to get you out of the way. Buck was quick to slide an arm around your waist and guide you quickly to Eddie's truck. Eddie blocked Bradley from coming any closer to you. You couldn’t hear what was said between the two of them but whatever Eddie said had Bradley ducking back into his building quickly. Eddie waited until the building doors closed behind Bradley before walking back to the truck. He didn’t speak once he started the truck nor did he speak for the entire trip to your Dads. His white knuckles gripped the steering wheel the whole drive there. Their conversation was something that had pissed him off. Once at your Dad's, you excused yourself to go lay down. The day had left you physically and mentally exhausted.

“It’s okay baby you go rest, your Dad wants to cook you something special for dinner so I’ll come get you when his home and cooking, okay” Athena gave you a loving smile.

You made your way to the spare room and quickly made yourself comfortable on the bed. As you lay there you could hear Athena talking with Buck and Eddie.

“She’ll be safe here, trust me if that guy comes anywhere near this house he can consider himself arrested” Athena said

“How long does it take for someone like him to just leave a person alone?” Buck asked

“Some give up after a few days, some a few weeks, months, years, some never quit” Athena sighed “But this guy I’d say as soon as he has a new target he’ll leave her alone”

“Athena…” Eddie was cut off by someone banging on the front door. Before anyone could move to open the door what could only be described as a stampede echoed through the house. Heavy boots took staircase steps 2 at a time until the fanfare came to an end in the kitchen where Athena, Eddie and Buck still stood in shock at the interruption. Stood before them in full uniform fresh from a call were Bobby, Chimney, Hen and Ravi.

“What in the world are you lot doing in my kitchen?” Athena asked frustration lacing her voice

“Did you get y/n?” Chimney ignored Athena looking straight at Eddie and Buck

“y/n is trying to rest which she won’t be able to do with you lot acting like a bunch of zoo animals” Athena crossed her arms over her chest looking at them all like a disappointed mother.

“So what's the plan from here how do we keep her ex from intimidating her back into a relationship with him” Hen asked keeping her voice just above a whisper partly to keep from disturbing y/n but mostly to appease Athena.

“Well, to start Maddie and I are going to take her out for the day tomorrow, take her mind off all this” Athena motioned around the room.

“Then starting the day after I’ve adjusted our rosters so someone can be here with her around the clock in case he shows up here” Bobby spoke up

“Unfortunately, someone here invited him over for dinner so he knows exactly where we live” Athena threw an accusatory look at Bobby.

“Maybe she should come to stay with me he has no idea where I live” Eddie offered up.

“No she’s safer here with Athena” Bobby said “Any sign of trouble and Athena can have the entire LAPD on our doorstep” Bobby smiled at Athena.

“A Mumma has to protect her babies” Athena smiled back at Bobby. “And besides, he knows all of us and he will likely stalk all of us to get to her”

“So what are we supposed to do just wait for him to lose interest” Buck spoke up frustrated with the situation “I mean you said it yourself Athena it could take years”

“Or days or weeks or months, the only guaranteed way to get rid of him quick is if y/n died, it’s the only way I’ve seen his type leave their victim alone for good” Athena said. The 118 shared a look, a look of mischief, of a united thought on how to get rid of this threat to their family. Athena knew immediately what they were thinking and quickly began shaking her head and looking between them.

“Don’t you even think about it” Athena pointed a stern finger at each person standing in her kitchen. “You’ll be causing more problems than what you’ll solve”

…

Despite Athena's warning the 118 decided as a family that if ‘the asshole’ as they affectionately dubbed him showed his face to any of them they would warn him to back off and if he wouldn’t listen they would tell him y/n was dead. It seemed like the perfect plan until it wasn’t.

The first person to meet him face to face was Chimney. It was 4 days after Eddie and Buck had taken you to live with Bobby and Athena. It was Eddie's day off. He had taken you out for lunch, then you picked Christopher up from school before heading back to Eddies to hang out. Eddie asked if you wanted to stay for dinner and a movie. Christopher who overheard the offer from where he sat in the dining room doing his homework practically begged you to stay. You called Athena to let her know you were going to be out late with Eddie and that he was going to drive you back when the movie ended. Christopher was old enough after all to stay home alone for the 20 minutes it would take Eddie to drop you home.

Because of this, it was Chimney who got stuck working late at the firehouse. He was the last to leave after finishing off all the small boring end-of-shift jobs like making sure all the dinner dishes were done and the ambulance restocked for the next shift. Bradley had been parked across the road from the station all day watching the team come and go. Your little stunt at his office had cost him his job. He was going to make you pay and he had all the time in the world to make it happen. He waited and counted off your friends as they left. He wanted to make sure that he followed the last person to leave because he knew if he risked following anyone else the rest of your friends would know and his plan would be ruined. He noticed after the first three calls of the shift that one of the guys he had seen you out the front of his office with wasn’t on shift today. He decided it was likely that guy's fault you left him. You’d probably been seeing him behind his back all along. He’d make him pay too. He counted them out one by one as they left the firehouse, first, it was the other guy he’d seen at his office and some Middle Eastern-looking dude. Then that black woman he’d seen you hang out with left. Next was your father. He almost forgot to wait to see him. He wanted to chase him down and run him over with his car but he held it together. He knew there was one more person left. The little Asian guy. When he hadn’t come out after 30 minutes he almost thought he went home earlier and he’d missed him. That was until Chimney walked out of the 118 firehouse almost 45 minutes after his shift had finished. He was talking away on his phone not paying attention to his surroundings creating the perfect situation for a stalker.

He followed Chimney from the firehouse to one of those 24-hour corner stores. He followed him in close behind, waiting until Chimney was alone in the back of the store. As luck would also have it there were no security cameras in sight. While Chimney was distracted looking at the small selection of diapers the store carried, he took his chance. Before Chimney could respond, he had grabbed him by the shoulder and had him pinned against the diaper shelves he was just looking at.

“Where is she?” He asked aggressively.

“Who?” Chimney asked shocked but trying to remain calm. He knew exactly who he wanted.

“Y/n” He held back from yelling in Chimney's face.

“Y/n? You…you mean you haven’t heard?” Chimney tried his best at putting on a distraught face even willing a few tears to fall.

“Heard what?” He loosed his grip on Chimney.

“I’m sorry man, she… she's dead” Chimney said softly trying to lace his voice with sadness.

“What no! What happened?” He aggressively slammed Chimney back against the shelves.

“The night Eddie and Buck picked her up from your place she slit her wrists in Bobby and Athena's bathroom” Chimney made himself sob.

Bradley shook his head in disbelief and ran from the shop. Once out of sight, Chimney let a massive grin break out on his face and he let out a proud chuckle. He grabbed diapers and practically skipped to the counter with them. He was so proud of himself and his lie. He knew if Bradley went looking to see if it was true he would see there had been a call out to Bobby and Athenas that night. It hadn’t been for you thought. Buck being the massive cluts that he is had managed to get his foot stuck in the bin beside the toilet while changing out a light bulb in the sconce above the sink which had stopped working while he was using the toilet. While trying to get the bin off his foot he slipped on the bath mat and fell smacking the back of his head with a loud yet hollow-sounding thunk on the sink, Luckly for Buck he has a thick skull and came out of it with a sore bum, ankle and head and a bruised ego. They still had him taken to the hospital because even though the injuries weren’t that bad he still needed to be cleared of any major head injury before returning to work.

…

2 days later by chance, he ran into Hen. It was her day off and she was about to come pick you up to go out to the movies but first, she had to run some errands. Bobby wanted to have a barbecue at his place to celebrate family and new beginnings. She was grabbing a few things to take with her when he spotted her. She was about to walk into the supermarket when he walked out. Seeing Hen he decided to take the chance to confirm what Chimney had told him. He grabbed Hen who was distracted by the shopping list on her phone and pulled her to the side of the door.

“What do you think you're doing? Get your hands off me!” Hen snapped.

“I’m sorry I just want to talk” He sighed.

“What do you want?” Hen asked crossing her arms over her chest,

“Is it true?” He asked.

“Is what true?” Hen asked.

“Is she dead?”

“I’m afraid so” Hen dropped her head.

“No, no it can’t be” He looked at the ground.

“If it means anything she didn’t suffer” Hen put a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at her confused Hen was quick to drop her hand back by her side. “There was nothing anybody could do for her. I can assure you she died the second the car made contact with the semi, she wasn’t even aware of the fire”

“A car accident?” He stumbled backwards. He ran away from Hen and made his way into the parking lot. The groceries he had brought were abandoned on the ground. Hen passed a confused look to the parking lot, shrugged and continued with her day. She knew if he went looking he would find a two-vehicle collision between a truck and a car. Y/n was nowhere near the accident but the 118 had responded to the accident so if he looked it up he wouldn’t be able to accuse them of lying.

…

The very next day Ravi saw Bradley hanging out across the street watching the fire house. Ravi would have run off and grabbed Bobby but he was at home spending time with you. Ravi took a quick look around but couldn’t spot any other members of the 118 to alert. Ravi decided that he was going to have to do something about it himself. He jogged across the road and stood beside Bradley's car. He positioned himself in such a way that if anything should happen anyone watching on in the firehouse would be able to see both Ravi and Bradley in the car. Ravi through a look back at the firehouse and then turned his attention back to Bradley.

“Any reason you're watching the firehouse?” Ravi asked faking a smile trying to pretend that he didn’t know who the man in the car was. “Are you interested in working for the LAFD? I could get you some information if you want to come inside” Ravi motioned towards the firehouse with an outstretched hand.

“Oh no, I was just hoping someone could help me get some information on a friend” Bradley put a fake smile on his face.

“No problem sir if you want to come inside I can set you up in the captain's office and we can all have a couple of officers down to help you” Ravi never once let the smile on his face falter.

“I don’t want to be a bother” If he stepped foot in the firehouse he knew he would be recognised by the other members of the 118. “My friends' name is Y/n Nash I believe you know her, she’s the fire captain's daughter”

“Oh y/n, yeah I knew her, um the captain is actually off today, I guess you’re here for the funeral?” Ravi let his smile drop. He tucked his hands into his pockets, rocked back on his heels and looked at the ground. “I could get you the funeral details if you want”

“No, no it’s fine, when did she die? How did she die? I mean last time I saw her she was healthy, she seemed happy” Bradley knew he was baiting Ravi. He’d already been told two different things. Either your whole team was messing with him or you were messing with them. Either way, he was going to figure it out and track you down. And when he found you he was going to make you pay.

“Uh she…she was involved in a hit and run, Cap had to decide to turn off her life support. The doctors said she had almost no chance of recovery any way” Ravi looked up to the sky knowing if he looked Bradley in the eyes he might break and smile.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, I was just in town and thought I would stop in for a minute but I wouldn’t want to be a burden, pass my condolences on to Bobby” Bradley gave Ravi a small smile and pulled away from the firehouse. When he was out of sight Ravi fist-bumped the air and jogged back into the firehouse. As far as Ravi was concerned that was the last time he thought any of you would hear from him. Bradley on the other hand had only gathered more evidence that the 118 was potentially lying to him.

…

Early the next morning Bradley stalked Eddie to his usual running path. He waited until Eddie was on a particularly quiet portion of the track, hidden from the eyes of the public by bushes and trees. He blocked Eddie's path not allowing him to step around him. Eddie the second he laid eyes on Bradley wanted to punch his lights out but he held his composure. Eddie placed some distance between himself and Bradley before speaking up.

“What the hell do you want?” Eddie said voice laced with anger.

“I just want to know what happened to y/n” Bradley put his hands up in surrender.

“You have no right to ask about her” Eddie snapped “She was so happy until you came along, you broke her down, you isolated her from us, you’re the reason…” Eddie choked on his words. A mixture of real and fake emotions was flowing through Eddie. He was so upset and caught off guard that he almost went off the script. “You’re the reason shes dead”

“Now Edmundo I don’t believe that for a second” Bradley smirked at Eddie

“Look in my eyes and tell me I’m lying” Eddie growled, “I carried her lifeless body out of her parent's house after she blew her brains out with her mother's gun, I begged and pleaded with god and anyone who would listen to bring her back to me, to us.”

“No, no… you're lying!” Bradley yelled backing away from Eddie.

“She killed herself because we wouldn’t let her go back to you, maybe we should have, maybe if we did she’d still be here” Eddie's gaze dropped to the ground. The next thing Eddie heard was the sound of someone running away from him. He looked up to see himself once again alone. A smile broke out on his face as he continued with his run. He couldn’t wait to finish up his run, get home, shower and get to work. The only thing that was going to top this was having dinner with you, Buck and Chris tonight. Bradley on the other hand was not so sure what was going on. He found himself confused. Everything Eddie said seemed so genuine. Maybe Bobby and Eddie had told the rest of the team different things to keep them from knowing what happened. He hadn’t seen you around since that day in the office not even with Eddie and Buck even though he knew you’d always run off to them in the past. Still, he had two more people to ask and he wasn’t going to stop until he got the truth.

…

That afternoon he followed Bobby into a butcher as he looked for the perfect cuts of steak and his favourite burger patties for the weekend during some downtime between calls. He wanted this BBQ to be reminiscent of the BBQs that you had when you were a kid even though, Mum, Robbie and Brook weren’t here anymore and you’d felt like he had tried to replace them with Athena, May and Harry. You’d grown to love them like Bobby did and accepted them as your family. Bobbys plans came to a halt when Bradley grabbed him by the arm and spun him to look at him. Bobby went from shocked to furious in seconds. Bradley could tell immediately that Bobby was not impressed to see him.

“I’m not trying to start anything” Bradley puts his hands up in defence “I just need to know…”

“Need to know what?” Bobby snaps crossing his arms across his chest making himself larger and more intimidating.

“Is she dead?” He asked.

“My daughter? My child who you destroyed so completely that she couldn’t see her self-worth. Yes, she’s dead and it's all your fault” Bobby was now shaking with anger, his arms hung limp at his side and his gaze had met the floor. “I had to scrape her brains off every surface of my guest room, all my children are now gone, I couldn’t save any of them, what kind of father can’t protect his children?” Bobby looked up to where Bradley had been standing to find that he at some point had run off. Bobby looked around the empty store and shrugged. Had he been a little overdramatic sure but he didn’t think he’d been that bad. With a smile plastered on his face, he went back to picking out the steaks for the weekend and hoped that would be the last time he would have to see Bradley.

…

The next morning Buck found himself running late for his shift. Chris insisted on watching a movie with everyone the night before but fell asleep not 15 minutes into the film despite insisting to Eddie that he was not sleepy at all. Eddie carried Chris to bed and decided that since the movie had started you might as well watch it. It was one of your and Chris's favourites. Eddie was sick of watching the movie on repeat and Buck had somehow had the blessing of not being subject to FernGully until now. After the movie, Buck drove you home. This meant he didn’t get home until almost 11 pm and he had to be at the station at 7 am. Bradley had spotted Buck on his drive home and decided to camp out the front of Buck's apartment building for the night. When Buck stumbled out the front door in a rushed mess the next morning Bradley was there to greet him.

“I’m not here to start a fight, I just need answers” He held his hands up in defence.

“What the hell do you need answers for?” If looks could kill Bradley would be dead with how Buck looked at him.

“I just want to know if y/n is dead” Bradley moved further back from Buck out of fear of getting hit.

“Dead” Buck yelled and got so close to Bradley that their chests were almost touching “Why do think it’s any of your business to know what’s happening with y/n?”

“I just heard rumours and wanted to know” Bradley flinched away from Buck.

“You wanted to know? You wanted to know?” Buck looked away and scoffed “Yes she’s dead alright, she killed herself, you have no idea what it’s like to be called out to a scene where someone you love has killed themselves, to see their blood all over and know that nothing you can do will save them. To see them choking on their blood as it spills out of their open throat”

Bradley had gone pale, so pale that Buck thought he was going to faint. For a split moment, Buck felt bad, made be he had been too harsh and taken things too far. Bradley quickly crossed back across the road to his car and took off before any more words could be exchanged. Buck shrugged and quickly made his way to work running even more late now. But that was normal for Buck so he knew no one would question him and he wouldn’t have to tell anyone about running into Bradley.

…

Finally, Saturday rolled around 2 days later. You had been kept busy all morning by Athena who had you help put out her good wine glasses, set the table for lunch, and do other small tasks. Eddie, Christopher and Buck had shown up around 10 am because Chris was too impatient and excited to hang out with his favourite person. You were so distracted with Chris that before you knew it, the rest of the 118 had arrived. Bobby and Buck were manning the BBQ, Chris was off playing with Danny and Mara, Hen, Chimney, Ravi, Karen and Maddie were busy talking among themselves. Athena was busy drifting around the kitchen while Eddie stood outside next to you watching the kids play.

“I’m glad you left him” Eddie broke the silence.

“Me too” You smiled up at him “Thank you for knocking some sense into me”.

“Okay everyone lunch is ready!” Bobby called bringing a tray of meat into the dining room.

Everyone sat around the table. Athena had set the kids up at their table out in the yard which made them think they were the coolest kids ever. She even gave them their plastic wine glasses to drink juice from. You were in the middle of one of the greatest lunches you’d ever had when there was an overly aggressive knock on the door. Before Athena or Bobby could move to answer the door someone yelled through the front door.

“I know you're all in there, I want answers and I want them now!” Bradley screamed through the door.

“What in the world?” Athena looked towards the landing where the front door was.

“What’s he doing here?” Buck looked around the table.

“I guess this means the plan didn’t work” Chimney looked between everyone.

“What plan?” Athena looked at Chimney.

“Uh, well, uh, Bobby do you want to explain it” Chimney looked to Bobby.

“You brought it up” Bobby motioned back to Athena.

“What plan?” Athena stood up, crossed her arms and started tapping her foot.

The 118 shared panicked glances while you, Maddie and Karen looked around the table confused.

“Robert Wade Nash you better start speaking or so help me god you’ll be sleeping at the firehouse tonight” Athena levelled her attention on Bobby.

“We might have told him y/n was dead” Bobby said

“Dead” Athena looked around the table “After I told you not to tell him that you went and did it anyway”

“Well in all fairness Athena I was the one who told him she was dead” Buck admitted looking at his plate.

“You? No, I told him” Chimney jumped in.

“Wait but I told him she was dead like a week ago” Hen added. “Oh god what have we done”

“One at a time, how did you all say she died” Athena asked the table.

“Slit her wrists,” Chimney said

“Hit and Run,” Ravi said

“Car accident,” Hen said

“Shot herself with your gun,” Bobby said

“Slit her throat,” Buck said

“Same as Bobby,” Eddie said

You, Maddie and Karen, were trying to hold it together despite all having a bad case of the giggles. Athena was done with the entire 118 at this point and it was clear from the look on Bobbys face he was already trying to decide who would let him crash on their lounge tonight.

“If you weren’t going to listen couldn’t you all have at least agreed on how she died” Athena sighed.

“I’ll go deal with” Bobby went to stand up.

“No you’ve done enough damage” Athena left the table.

Athena went to open the door while everyone else quietly got up from the table and came to peak around the corner. Bradley was still furiously banging on the door when Athena answered it.

“What do you want?” Athena asked angrily.

“I need the truth, I’ve been told so many different things over the last week,” Bradley said “Tell me the truth and I’ll leave you alone”

“Yes y/n is dead, yes she killed herself with my gun, no we haven’t told everyone, now if you don’t mind we’re currently having her wake” Athena crossed her arms.

“I’m so sorry” Bradley quickly turned on his heels and ran off up the driveway out of sight.

Athena took a deep breath and closed the door.

“When I turn around you all best be at that table eating”

#buddie x reader #bobby nash x reader #athena grant x reader #bobby x athena #evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz x reader #chimney han x reader #Ravi pannikar x reader #911 x reader #118 x reader #hen wilson x reader #911

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uglypastels · 5 months

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Ridlington Park | I | Eddie Munson regency!au

Author's Note: It has been a long, long time, but I am back with another obnoxious AU. I hope you enjoy as we embark on this new adventure in Regency England. This story has been in the works for almost 2 years and is still far from finished, but I am having too much fun with this and have way too many ideas on where to take it, so suggestions are very much appreciated.

Word Count: 10k

Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story in its entirety may contain:

female!reader. slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies.

Due to the adult nature of the story, this author also kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works.

The Ridlington Park Collection | Correspondence | Join the Taglist

Chapter One: A Game of Perseverance

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them.”

– Jane Austen, Letter to her sister Cassandra, 1798

Three stories high, full of balconied windows, the house stood tall and overlooked the entire street. Ridlington Park, they called it, and situated at the centre of life–that is, London–the front door of the building was enveloped in flowers matching the seasons all year long. Currently, it was bright peonies that caught the onlooker’s eye. The perfectly trimmed bushes and trees were planted symmetrically, leading up to the front doors, giving visitors the right impression of what they could await once they stepped inside.

The residing family had spent a good fortune and effort ensuring the house represented them perfectly: clean, fortunate, and grand, but all done so in the utmost respectable and modest fashion as they were never the ones to boast. The walls had a light, warm tone reminiscent of early mornings in Spring, and the interior was decorated with portraits, new and old, beautiful oil sceneries of lands near and far, and busts and vases.

The evening was slowly approaching, the sun setting over the windows of the drawing room, enwrapping everything in a golden glow. The family sat silently around the room, giving each other the peace and quiet required for an uneventful afternoon followed by a slow night of fortunate sleep. The only sound appreciated was the pianoforte siding against the window, gracefully played by Mother. Four children sat around the separate corners of their world, enjoying the music while focusing on their own activities. Like most nights, these consisted of either reading or needlework, engaging in small conversations with one another occasionally.

As typical as any evening at Ridlington Park, it was highly unusual for the rest of London– a city which runs on scandals and gossip. Outside, the streets were bustling with lords and ladies of the Ton making their way back home from the markets, gardens and their fellows’ tea parties, gossiping about the latest impropriety to have occurred. After all, such topics, no more than nonsense really, were simply inescapable. And no matter how hard they tried to ignore it all, one way or another, it would always find its way up to the Byrnwick family. Most of the time, you, Gentle Reader, could hold yourself accountable for introducing the rumours proudly, much to your brother’s annoyance, who did his best to turn the pages of his novel as loud as possible as you talked with your mother from across the room.

‘Have you heard what happened at Lady Faulkner’s ball?’

‘Yes, sordid, really.’ Your mother sighed, turning around. ‘I am sure her family is in quite the uproar.’

‘Please,’ Christopher, your brother, shut his book down in frustration, clearly incapable of making any progress amidst the conversation. ‘If she had not wanted to get caught, she should have maybe ought to think twice about being out with a man in the middle of the gardens for everyone to see.’

You glared up at him. ‘Well, it is absurd that a woman cannot even stand in a public space with a man without bringing disgrace onto her entire family.’

‘Believe me; she did much more than just standing.’ Christopher scoffed, quickly receiving a cold stare from your mother.

‘Still, it is unjust.’ You ignored his insinuations. ‘Think of how men are free to go out at any time of day or night with whomever they please.’ You stabbed your needle through the cloth a bit harsher than intended.

‘My, you sure seem to be giving all this much thought. Have you any plans we should know about, sister?’ Your brother smirked.

‘Christopher!’ Your mother scowled. ‘That is quite enough.’

‘I was only joking, Mother,’ Christopher sighed, ‘we all know she is not going anywhere anytime soon.’

You were ready to retort angrily, or at least throw your needle at him, when the doors to the drawing room opened, catching everyone’s attention by storm. Five pairs of identical eyes directly aimed at the door frame, only softening when recognising the intruders. A welcoming of surprised gasps greeted the Lord and his eldest, Nicholas, as they entered the room. Not one foot in the room, and all activities were being put to a halt as the rest of the family gathered around the men—a loving reunion after a months-long journey from the Americas.

It was a surprising return, for father and son had yet to write of their plans in recent times. The last letter was received at Ridlington Park over three weeks ago, stating that the weather was amiable, if not a bit too humid, and that the family missed each other deeply. The lack of correspondence, therefore, was also an immediate subject.

‘But why did you not write, dear?’ asked Mother, after embracing her son. Nicholas was too occupied by his youngest sibling to answer; airways tightened in the arms of his 11-year-old sister, Marjorie. His father responded instead:

‘How could we write at sea, my love? The message would not have gotten here any faster than we did,’ the lord chuckled to his wife. He was correct, too, of course. His eyes seemed to surpass the gaze of his present family members in search of the one missing piece. ‘Where is Annabelle? I thought she would be home by now.’

‘She is home, with her husband,’ you explained carefully. Your father blinked slowly, coming to terms with this fact he had tried to avoid for so long. Annabelle had married last season and was very well off, to a Duke, no less, but it was still a big adjustment for the family seeing her gone and out of the house. Even with her frequent visits, it was strange to have one head less at the dinner table; one less chair occupied each evening, one less song played on the pianoforte.

‘Ah, well then,’ Father cleared his throat, ‘then we are complete.’ He looked at his wife and five children. One day, there would be even fewer of them. They will all be leaving the nest one by one. For some, marriage was long overdue, and as a man of high society, he could not wish his children a suitor or a lady soon enough, but as a father, he dreaded the day that the following proposals would take place.

Marjorie, becoming impatient and not as sentimental about her family’s reunion, tugged at Nicholas’ sleeve. ‘Come, you must tell us everything about your journey!’ She kept pulling until the eldest brother had no choice but to follow her and sit on the couch. Soon, everyone else joined on the chaises.

‘I am afraid there is very little to tell,’ Nicholas said, taking a chocolate biscuit off the tray beside the sofa. ‘It was all rather dull.’

‘Do not be ridiculous, brother,’ Fitzwilliam, the second-youngest and still hungry for adventure and the world outside of the Ton, looked at his older brother with high expectations. ‘I do not believe you and Father had been gone this long and did not experience anything worthy of a tale.’

You listened on as your siblings bickered, arguing over the value of a story, and its worth of being told and heard. Finally, after listening to it for about a quarter of an hour, you had to agree with Nicholas; it was all rather dull. No wonder neither he nor father did not bother to mention anything but the weather in their correspondence. Their days quickly grew into a pattern one is used to in travel and business. A pattern you might have understood if you cared to pay attention.

This attention only returned to the room when you heard your name being spoken. The conversation had shifted from the events that had been missed overseas to the town's happenings. Just as dull and irrelevant, some might say, the most interesting thus far was the staff changes at the house, and even these held very little consequence to you, but to this, some may disagree wholeheartedly.

‘So, the season has begun, has it not, sister?’ Nicholas asked.

‘Some weeks ago, yes.’ You did your best pretending not to feel an effect from this, occupying yourself with your needlework that was turning out far below the usual standard. ‘But do not worry; you have not missed much. In fact, I think things will finally begin to get a bit interesting with you back home.’ Nicholas had always had a taste for dramatics and had been known for having a very… loving nature. In the past years, you must have witnessed him falling in love at least a dozen times, preparing a proposal to half of these women, going through with it twice now, with one nearly making it to the alter if not for the bride getting caught in quite a compromising position with a footman.

For the next few weeks, Nicholas was known as the heartbroken gentleman, and you would have felt bad for him… if it was not for the fact that women from all over town came around to console him, day after day, of course not knowing that when his bride-to-be had been making arrangements with other men, your brother had been too busy charming ladies himself. It took a month for him to proclaim his love to another woman again.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ Nicholas deflected your comment, quickly looking over to your mother and second oldest brother, Christopher, ‘any fitting suitors I should be aware of?’ As the eldest brother, Nicholas made it his duty to ensure his sisters found good husbands. That meant status and wealth but, above anything else, a good and genteel nature. You remembered how picky he was when Annabelle had been searching for a husband, even more so than your parents. Still, it was something you appreciated about your brother. His protectiveness showed the little heart he still held for you and the rest of your family, as much as he tried to hide it away.

Your mother bit her cheek, holding in the many thoughts and opinions she must have kept for herself. So did Christopher, who shared a very knowledgeable look of many words with Nicholas, one he understood clearly but you could not decipher just yet. However, you assumed the general message had been sent and received.

‘If you had seen the choices, brother, you would understand my predicament and situation all too well, believe me.’ Pretending to seem unbothered by the encrypted messages being sent around the room, you preoccupied yourself once more with the needlework.

‘I believe it is what you believe, sister,’ Nicholas turned back to your mother, ‘do you have a list of names? I shall go through them in the morning, see if it really is as bad as we are being told.’

You had wanted to reply, most likely in a dishonourable way, but you held your tongue and fell back in your seat, letting the rest of your family plan out the rest of your life, just like they had always done.

Unbelievable, Nicholas was home for all of five minutes, and he was already making lists. And knowing him, which you would like to think you did, it was merely a formality for your sake. He would already have a dozen names at the top of his head, ready to send out invitations to men for an audience with you.

Therefore, you were not surprised when, only a few days later, at the breakfast table, Nicholas told you about all the guests Ridlngton Park would soon be welcoming.

‘There is Mr Elton, and Mr Brookes will be coming over for tea; I also heard Lord Frankworth is interested in a visit, so is Mr Campbell, and—’ he kept on giving you names, with all of them entering one ear and immediately leaving through your other. You could not care less who wanted to see you, not after spending the last month trying your hardest to escape all of their attempts at promenading, lunching, and chatting of sheer nonsense.

‘I must ask you to be ready for your first audience before 10; a dress is already prepared in your room.’ Of course, there was a dress. All you could do was smile as you bit into a forkful of egg.

‘Oh, and there is one gentleman I would particularly like you to meet,’ your father chimed in, almost as if with an afterthought that he recollected at the last minute. You looked up at him apprehensively. ‘I had made a nice acquaintance of his father on our travel. What was his name– Harrolds, no…’ ‘Harrington, father. It was Mr Harrington.’ Nicholas corrected before looking over to you as he shared more. ‘He is a tradesman, quite successful. His only son had joined us on the ship back to England.’ The emphasis on his lineage was made with an apparent inclination. There were no more heirs, meaning the son would inherit the man’s entire wealth. ‘Certainly seems like a reasonable young man, clever too. The two of you will have lots to speak of.’

Well, I certainly cannot wait to meet him,’ you forced out a smile before quickly getting on with your meal despite losing all your appetite. At that moment, your stomach felt like a hollow pit, eating away at you, ironically.

‘You know, if you gave this all a chance, you might find yourself to actually enjoy it in the end,’ your mother commented with a tight lip.

‘I am sure I shall enjoy it then, as it means that it has all, in fact, ended.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I simply do not understand why this is a must in my life? Why must I marry this instant?’

‘Do not worry, dear. You are still young; you still have plenty of time, ' your father said, missing your point entirely and making you roll your eyes. ‘But your mother is right, too, a more agreeable attitude towards this will make things much easier.’

‘For whom, exactly? Is it for me to enjoy myself, or for everyone else as you will not have to endure me any longer?’

‘Can you really blame us?’ Nicholas mumbled, receiving a kick in the shin in return. He spent the rest of the discussion rubbing the targetted spot on his leg with a pained crease between his brows. You, besides gaining the small victory of maiming your brother, found yourself yet again on the losing side of another family dispute. Like all its predecessors, this battle ended with you pushing back your chair with a harsh scrape of the panelled floor and slugging back to your room where a dress awaited.

It was beautiful; you could not deny that. Elegant and straightforward, it accented all your finest assets for interested suitors. It was comfortable: not too heavy or too textured in its pattern, it was made of soft material that slipped right on, with the fit of a well-tailored glove. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, leaving nothing to hide behind.

‘You look lovely, miss,’ your maid said with a kind smile as she put the final pin in your hair.

‘Thank you, Claire.’ You muttered, noticing the saddened sympathy enveloping her features as she knew like no other how much you detested everything about what you were about to go through. ‘Have you got any advice? On how to endure it all?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she shrugged, brushing something off your shoulder. ‘I suppose you could try making them uninterested in you, so they will want to leave sooner.’

‘That thought has crossed my mind,’ you admitted, ‘but I also do not want to put my entire family to shame.’

‘Of course, miss.’ Claire nodded. As she finished working on your presentation, you pondered over your possibilities. Indeed, presenting yourself as improper had been your first idea, and its appeal remained, but you were too afraid of the repercussions. If the gentlemen were to think of you as a lady without any manners, all it would do was put your upbringing up for question, something your parents did not deserve whatsoever.

You also considered spreading gossip about the men coming to introduce themselves, which would scare your mother off them immediately, ensuring they were never to return by your parents’ preference. But it felt cruel to make up such lies. You were sure that in other circumstances, these were perfectly fine men. At this particular moment, you just happened to despise them and everything they stood for.

Perhaps the most appealing option was to simply not attend the audience. To run away and never to return… at least until the afternoon, once all the men had lost all their patience. But that would only cause you more trouble.

The ideas rolled around your head for the rest of the day, even once the suitors sat opposite you in the room. It was all incredibly dull, if not just mortifyingly humiliating, with your mother sitting only across the room, occupying herself with a book, or so it seemed because she most definitely was listening to the conversations attempted on your part.

‘So,’ as most of the dialogues began, the Lord whose name you already forgot spoke, clearing his throat, ‘I hear you read.’

‘Yes, ' you said, blinking to avoid staring too blankly at the wall behind the man, ignoring the balding patch atop his head.

‘Grand,’ he smiled, somehow satisfied with your response already.

‘Do you… ride?’ you asked, hoping that at the least your mother heard your attempts at making a connection and would release you from this torment soon enough on the principle of your good sportsmanship.

‘No, God no, horses are far too beastly for my liking, unless we are speaking of the track, of course.’ The man scoffed, ‘However, I prefer more dignified activities, such as hunting.’

‘Of course, you do,’ you smiled, but the expression never reached your eyes. ‘What about chess? Do you play?’

‘I do not have the patience to commit to such silly games.’

Patience, you thought, or intelligence? And how ironic of him to speak of perseverance. You watched him take another small sandwich from the tea tray provided on a side table, which you were taught to ignore so as not to be observed as “gluttonous”. After all, no one wanted to marry a lady that ate all day.

Considering that, you grabbed a plate and a piece of cake from the top of the tray and bit into it. The soft sponge melted on your tongue. In the meantime, you were asked a question, but you could not possibly answer with a mouthful of cake, could you? Once you had finished, you considered grabbing a second portion, but you could feel the judgmental look of your mother digging into the back of your head.

You put the plate back down and your hands on your lap.

‘I’m sorry, my lord, could you repeat the question, please. I fear I may have lost myself for a moment.’ And so, it continued. Thankfully, the man excused himself not long after, thanking you and your mama for the time, just for his seat to be replaced with someone else almost immediately. This time, the gentleman was significantly younger, with thick hair atop his head and charming eyes, but the second he spoke, you knew this would not reach much further than the comfort of this room. At the least, you did not see this relationship going any further than any of the other acquaintances you had made that day.

By lunchtime, you felt your eyes burning with fatigue, possibly caused by a constant suppression of tears. How much more could you possibly take of this torture?

‘Mr Elton was quite a charmer, was he not?’ Your mother commented as she sipped her tea.

You suppressed your initial thought, rephrasing it to cause less offence, ‘He is too stubborn and self-centred. He barely let me speak a single word, too occupied by his own achievements to expect me to have any.’

‘Well, Lord Frankworth seemed to care very much for what you had to say.’

‘Only because he barely managed to string any thoughts together himself,’ you sighed.

Your mother tightened her grip on the teacup before smiling. ‘Soon enough, we will find you a perfectly fine young man, dear. You just have to remain open-minded.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Speaking of, your next suitor should be here shortly.’

You did everything in your power not to groan at the announcement and instead nodded politely. ‘Who is it?’

‘Mr Harrington, the one your father was so keen on you meeting.’

‘Ah,’ yes, the American. The only thing that gave you some slight hope in the situation was that Mr Harrington had already spent plenty of time in the company of your father and brother Nicholas and had seemingly gained their blessing. But nothing could help you gain the energy to entertain yet another man with polite conversation. The sun had been beaming into the room since the early morning, only growing warmer and warmer, making the hairs at the small of your neck stick.

‘Will you just excuse me for a moment, mother.’ You got up.

‘Is something wrong?’ She looked suspicious but with a glint of worry in her eye.

‘I am quite fine, just require some fresh air, I think,’ which was not entirely a lie.

‘Alright then, just make haste, child.’ Mr Harrington was on his way, after all. ‘We do not want to keep the man waiting.’

‘Of course not,’ you smiled, heading towards the door. When the large panels closed behind you, you picked up your skirt and ran toward the gardens. Your footsteps echoed through the corridors, and you caught several members of the house staff glancing your way with inquisitive looks.

Ever since you could remember, the grounds around Ridlington Park had a fantastical power about them. It had been the turf on which you would spend countless childhood summer days playing games with your siblings, whether the competitive or imaginary type. But no matter what the six of you could think of, your favourite game would always remain Hide and Go Seek. The gardens were a perfect place for it, with endless nooks and crannies one could disappear into. It was nearly a giant maze, and you had mastered it from a very young age. Whilst most got lost between the shrubbery and flowers, you knew exactly where you had found yourself.

There were plenty of hiding spots you enjoyed over the years, some that to this day remain a mystery to the rest of your family, but nonetheless, it was the stables you adored the most. It was a safe haven for you on many days, to the point that you had nearly become invisible to the staff working there.

The stables were located in the far east corner of the grounds, and the walk towards it already cost more time than you had if you had ever planned on returning that quickly. Undeniably, there was a pinch of shame and guilt nipping at your heart towards the strange Mr Harrington, but that soon dissolved when you heard the neighing of Barley Sugar, a golden-brown mare you proudly called yours. A gift and result of a successful business trade made by your father years ago, the horse technically belonged to all of the Byrnwick children, as much as any of the other horses under the family’s possession, but the bond between you and that particular horse just turned out to be that much stronger.

This was visible as soon as you entered the stable. Barley Sugar went wild at your presence, happily swinging her head from side to side.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ you grinned, petting the horse, who leaned into your touch immediately. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’

But your plans were quickly interrupted by a voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’

❀❀❀

An average sea voyage from the Americas to England should take approximately 16 days, considering the weather corresponds with the sails of the ship. During this journey, passengers would most likely endure days upon days of heavy and tall waves bashing across the ship’s sides, and that is to be expected in favourable conditions.

As Lord Byrnwick and his eldest had boarded the ship headed to London, the sky had been bright blue, and it did not change far beyond that. There was, of course, a risk for the two of them to sail across the world as they did, them being head of the family and its heir. A journey such as this one can go awry in many ways, and if it were not for the dangers of seafaring, there were the Anglo-American tensions to consider. After all, the previous year's war was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and one could not be careful enough when entertaining both sides. Luckily for the Byrnwicks, they were not of the superstitious kind, and good fortune had always seemed to be in the family’s favour up until the very moment they stepped on the boat to return home, many years beyond that.

Ever the convivial one, the most considerable success of the trip, according to Lord Byrnwick, was not the business or diplomatic aspects of their ventures but the social. The man immensely enjoyed meeting other like-minded spirits from across the pond, and there had been plenty of fine nights at gentleman’s clubs spent over fine spirits and betting games, discussing all sorts of topics and exchanging information on all subjects. Promises were made to keep in touch whilst arrangements were made for more future meetings. It was only the polite thing to do.

But aside from acquaintances and business partners, an addition to the household had also been made. Of some sort, that is, for it seemed that the two had found a new groom in America.

Now, Gentle Reader, do not conclude of the worst, as the groom we speak of is not the sort one is meant to meet at an altar but the kind who spends his days tending the horses and carriages. The young man, Mr Munson, had been doing precisely that when the Byrnwick heir stumbled upon his conveyance services in town, in dire need of transport for his regular means, which had already been occupied by his father for the day. It was an encounter by utter chance but certainly one with greater consequences.

Several days later, coincidentally, a letter from London had arrived. Five pages long, each written by a member of the family recounting their most notable memories of the week. The children spoke of the ton's gossip and anecdotes of what occurred at home. Mother, however, took it upon herself to write of more important matters regarding the household. Many topics had to be discussed, but in the middle of her letter, there was mention of the unfortunate passing of the family’s barn manager, Mr Falstipp. It was an unexpected death, leaving the entire house in shock as the man had been working for the family for longer than the children had been alive. But it also resulted in the question of what was to be done now?

It was likely only because the interaction had been so fresh in his mind that Nicholas suggested finding a replacement for Mr Falstipp here in America. This was an unusual offer, as his father commented, especially since they would not leave for home until another few days, but that was to be resolved by having the footmen take care of the horses for the time being. Besides, Nicholas was sure his siblings would be more than happy to help with the chores.

The next day, he returned to the public stables and immediately noted how much cleaner they seemed than any other in town. The horses also looked exceptionally well taken care of and content.

Mr Munson had just been feeding a colt when Nicholas eagerly announced, ‘Mr Munson, may I offer you a proposition?’

This, to no surprise, startled the other man for various reasons. ‘Sir?’

‘This must be a peculiar request, but you see, as of recently, my family has found itself in need of a new stablehand and from what I have seen you do, you, sir, would be the perfect candidate.’ Nicholas had the smile of a man losing his sanity, but his words could not be more genuine.

‘Your family—’ Munson blinked, ‘you mean in London.’

‘Yes, and I understand that this might be a problem, but trust me when I say that you will most certainly find England to your liking, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’

‘As you wish,’ Nicholas agreed.

Eddie pondered over the offer for a short moment. It would have taken him no time to decide if it was not for what he was to leave behind, but he knew that his current employer would be able to find his replacement in no time, as jobs in town were hard to come by.

But what must have been even more challenging to obtain was a ticket out of the wasteland he called home. For years, he had dreamt of an escape, never imagining it to be possible, and suddenly, here comes this stranger offering it to him on a silver platter.

It would be terrifying to move so far away, he knew that, with many risks, but the further away he could manage to go from where he was now, the better.

Eventually, after a minute of silence that left Nicholas restless and on the verge of embarrassment, Eddie smiled: ‘It would be my pleasure to work for you, sir.’ And he had meant that wholeheartedly. While it had only been a short few interactions that he had had with the man, the young Mr Byrnwick had already shown Eddie far more kindness than any of his prior employers, or any other man in his life, for a fact. Most importantly, the man knew nothing about Eddie’s past, which must have been the biggest selling point in the life-changing choice.

‘Marvelous. You will not regret this, Eddie.’ Nicholas leaned in to shake his hand, only to realise that Eddie was still carrying the giant bucket of feed. ‘Well, we shall finalise everything on the boat, shall we?’ And so they did.

A week later, Eddie found himself still in shock at his circumstances. He could not believe he was really to be leaving for England until the moment he set foot on the boat, and even once the sails had set and the American coast was nothing but a grim line on the horizon, the fact did not seem to settle in his mind just yet.

Over the next 16 days, he had encountered the Byrnwicks only a handful of times. First, to meet Lord Byrnwick who, as head of the household, wanted a final say on the matter. A bit late, thought Eddie, as the boat had long departed the harbour by then, but his ticket had already been paid for, and thus, he had little else to complain about. He had quickly made peace with the idea that he could make his new life across the ocean work no matter the circumstances. He had done it before, so what is one more homeless night under a new sky?

But the lord seemed all too happy to have found his staff replacement. Overall, the man was nothing like Eddie had expected a gentleman of English high society to be. From his previous experiences, the type often was rather conceited and arrogant, with a transparent opinion of anyone below their class. His new employer and his son, while undoubtedly lordly, had a modest nature about them. Quickly, Eddie had also gathered that the spontaneity with which Nicholas Byrnwick had called upon him for a job opportunity was not uncharacteristic of him, as the young man was rather energetic in his step and impulsive in his actions.

But no matter how unassuming the men were, they did belong to a different rank of man and, therefore, stayed on the boat to the upper decks, engaging with the rest of their kind.

The travel moved on slowly, but in the end, it was also a mere blink of an eye moment, and before he had realised it, Eddie had reached the shores of England. It was another day or two of travel to be done by horse. A carriage had been acquired for Nicholas and his father, but Eddie and the rest of the staff that travelled with the family for their adventure rode on horseback. No matter how much Eddie enjoyed the form of transportation, it was a tiring experience after several hours, but it also allowed him to meet the people he was to work with and, through that, those he would work for.

‘So, what is the rest of the family like,’ he asked Mr Trowbridge, the lord’s valet. If there was anyone who could tell Eddie something, it would be this man.

‘Well,’ Mr Trowbridge had a particularly nasal tone about his voice that especially came forward at the beginning of his sentences, ‘I do not believe there is much to tell. They are as any other family, really.’

‘My good man, you can hardly expect me to believe there is nothing worth telling about these people,’ Eddie laughed. ‘If it puts your mind at ease, I am only asking for the simplest facts—nothing to interest my fancy.’

The valet pondered over this for a moment. ‘Very well. You have, of course, met the Viscount and his eldest.’ He took a moment for Eddie to respond with a nod in agreement. He then took another moment to consider his following words. The longer he took, the more keen Eddie felt to suggest what to speak of.

‘What about Lady Byrnwick?’

‘Lady Byrnwick is most amiable and has a very caring character, but you will not find her in the stables often unless she is searching for her children.’

‘Not fond of horses, is she?’

‘Rather the outside—-’ Trowbridge cleared his hair vigorously. ‘In the sense that the sun and pollen often leave her poorly. But the children…’ he punctuated his half-sentence with a heavy sigh.

‘They are a handful?’ Eddie assumed. To this, Trowbridge searched for another description but found himself lacking the vocabulary, leading to a confirmation.

‘I have worked for this family for nearly three decades, and I will assure you that each member is as proper a member of society as the next. While boisterous, they have been taught to be independent individuals.’ The valet's tone made Eddie consider how much of their good decorum was in gratitude for the man’s own intervention and guidance.

‘At 27 years, Nicholas is the eldest, and the responsibilities of this role are one of the few aspects of his life which he takes seriously, I cannot put any doubt behind that.’ Indeed, whilst extremely impetuous, the heir’s son also understood the duties of his position and towards his family.

‘Then there is Christopher. The boy has immense athletic abilities but not much beyond that. For a young man of his age of five and twenty, one would assume he would be able to compose himself with a bit more propriety, but it is very difficult for him. He is adventurous and rarely can sit still for an extended period of time, including his mouth. It is suggested that people be careful of what they say around the man.

‘The eldest daughter, Annabelle, married just before we had departed for America, thus is now the lady of her own house.’ Something in his tone suggested he was sad to see the young woman leave home. This possibly has to do with the fact that Miss Annabelle (Now known as Duchess Annabelle Ramsbury) was the most dutiful and respectful of the six children. ‘The marriage had been long overdue as she had just turned 22 on the day of the ceremony, but a love match was found nonetheless.’ The valet guffawed with pride. It was clear to Eddie that, while considering them a nuisance, the man cared deeply for the family he served.

‘I must admit, Trowbridge,’ Eddie chuckled in this horse’s trot pattern over the uneven paths. ‘When you began speaking of the family, I had imagined the children to be… well, children.’

‘How old are you, Munson?’ Trowbridge asked, somewhat bluntly.

‘Twenty, sir.’ Perhaps closer to his next birthday than the last.

‘Ah, just the age of the second daughter then,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘She may perhaps be the most… rebellious of the kin. It is all in good spirit, as you must imagine, and I am sure the interest in such nonsense will dwindle as she matures. She is also the most fond of the family horses; thus, you will see her quite often, I expect. But as her sibling, she has mastered the care for the animals as well as the equipment.’

As he spoke of your skills, something about Trowbridge's expression communicated particular dismay to Eddie. ‘Is that bad? For a young woman to know how to carry herself around a horse?’ He, for one, certainly did not see a problem in it. On the contrary, it was an instrumental skill to develop for anyone.

‘It is not exactly lady-like, is it?’ Trowbridge spoke as if that was the only relevant argument on the matter. Eddie had learned from a very young age that some opinions were better left unsaid, and seeing him as the senior in age and position, Eddie thought it unwise to argue with the valet on his first official day of employment. He instead simply nodded in understanding. Instead, he opted to continue the civil interrogation—

‘What of the youngest two? What are they like?’

‘Fitzwilliam is a dapper fellow. He is but seventeen, but very accomplished, though I cannot say he knows how to put his acquired skills to good use. He has ambitions that cannot be denied; it is just a question of whether these ambitions can ever be met.

‘And lastly, we have Miss Marjorie. A darling girl, I assure you,’ Trowbridge stated. I can only suggest not letting her size fool you, Munson. She has managed to wrap her family around her little fingers the moment she learned to mumble a word, leaving her to cause quite the ruckus for the past eleven years.’

‘I do not see how that involves me, Sir,’ Eddie said. By this time, the sun had begun to set over the fields they passed, and soon, the company would break for their overnight travels at a nearby inn.

‘It had come to my attention over the years that Mr Falstipp–the previous groom, that is— had been quite lenient on the children and their usage of the horses. This has caused a number of incidents that I would rather not see a repetition of.’

‘Understood.’

‘I am unaware of your er– American customs,’ the valet began his lecture, ‘but you must also know that here, ladies are not to ride unaccompanied—something that has been protested in the family to no avail, but it is simply the procedure. There must always be a chaperone nearby to supervise, whether that is a senior member of the family or an entrusted member of the household.’

‘I do not expect to have gained that trust just yet,’ Eddie said earnestly.

‘But let us hope you will.’ The smile Trowbridge gave Eddie was kind at first glance, but the movement of his eyes that inspected him told an entirely different story. He knew he still had much to learn about navigating himself around the kinds of people that were the Byrnwicks, even those who worked for them. The moment he set foot on English soil, he knew it would be challenging to fit in if he ever planned to do so.

The truth is that he did not plan such a change. For you see, Dear Reader, Mr Eddie Munson was also a radical. He did not believe in adapting to society, which was visible in his entire being. One can also imagine the struggle he had to endure when given a uniform to wear. Frankly, the ensemble did not differ much from how the man dressed himself before, but the simple fact that he was told to wear this particular set of clothing upset him severely.

On the first day after his arrival at Ridlington Park, he had managed to justify himself out of dressing in the required clothing by claiming that the trousers were a smidgen too tight. Without another size available, he was told to wear the clothes on his back until the new, fitted attire arrived.

But the clothes did not even begin to reach the problem of the horses he was meant to care for.

Turned out, while he had been given all sorts of warnings against the family, what Eddie should have been preparing for was the beasts that homed the stables. The stubborn animals would not let him touch them, and any attempts were met with angry stares and stomping of the hooves.

‘Easy, there,’ Eddie spoke as softly as he could, taking small steps in any direction that would not enrage the stallion whom he was currently attempting to feed. White Liquorice, a white Arabian, was undoubtedly an animal worthy of a viscount, and from the moment he had stepped into the Ridlington Park stables, Eddie knew that the Kentucky Saddlers and Quarter Horses he grew up with were no match for these and he would quickly have to learn to get on with them if he was to stay here.

Yes, the first days were hard, but not even one week later, he had gotten used to the rhythm of operations. It helped that, working as the barn manager, he was the one in charge and mostly left alone. Mr Trowbridge had visited him to ensure he was adjusting to the new working conditions, which was kind, but besides that, Eddie rarely saw anyone but footmen requesting the carriage to be prepared for the family.

That is until one afternoon when he heard the doors open and someone walking inside. He had been around the corner of the stables, cleaning some grooming tools.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ he heard the intruder speak. It was soft and gentle, most likely referring to one of the horses. Immediately, Eddie was reminded of one of the conversations shared with Lord Byrnwick’s valet. He swiftly got up from his seat and immediately found the culprit.

He watched you pet one of the horses—Barley Sugar, was it—-petting her in a way he had not yet managed to do confidently. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’ These words triggered him to jump into action.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ He stepped forward, but his words startled you, causing you to turn around. As you did so, your foot got caught in an old set of bridles Eddie had still planned on detangling and putting away. The surprise coming with the unexpected presence of someone else, combined with the awkward position of your foot, led you to fall over with a shriek.

Eddie cursed under his breath as he watched you huff on the ground. ‘Let me help you,’ he extended his hand to you, ‘and my apologies, it was not my intent to—’

‘Who are you?’ you said in a tone that could only be deemed skittish, if not directly fearful, but not enough to deny his offer to help you stand. Your reaction was validated as you had never met the man standing before you. You eyed him up and down, and the more details you noticed, the more you were sure that you had just stumbled upon a robbery, nay, a kidnapping.

The man's presentation spoke for itself, truly. His long hair was dark and unkept, well over his shoulders. His clothes were nothing like the workers around your house were meant to dress like, making him stick out like a very sore thumb. The trousers were old and worn, and the shirt was loose over his upper body, revealing—oh god, was that a tattoo?

It was clear this is how you were to die.

‘Are you here to steal my horses?’ you blurted out before you could think.

‘What?’ He blinked. ‘No, please, listen—’ but you did no such thing. Instead, you did the only thing a lady in distress could do.

You screamed bloody murder.

‘Help! Anyone! Help—’ you would have kept on going, shouting over his attempt at reason until he finally shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth, his other hand sturdily over your upper arm. The two of you stood there for a moment, chests both heaving in all forms of panic, listening for footsteps or any other presence, but the only sound was the soft breathing of the animals around you.

‘I will let go now, miss,’ Eddie said slowly. Both your eyes were wide from the uncultivated situation that had just occurred. ‘And I will explain everything to you, just, please—and I beg you— do not scream.’ You nodded your head beneath his palm in agreement. Eddie counted to three as he stepped back and finally let go of you. Despite him never blocking your airways, you inhaled deeply.

‘There is absolutely no reason to panic, ma’am.’ His accent was distant, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. His eyes, large and dark, locked you in, almost making you lose count of the lingering feeling of his hands on your body. He had given you a moment before he continued speaking, ensuring that you would not resume your screaming or make a run for it.

‘What is your reason of being here?’ You inquired.

‘I work here. Have been, for the past week. I think it was your brother, in fact, that gave me the position. We met on his travels.’

Now, come to think of it, you remembered your family's conversation on the day your father and brother returned. There had been talk of new staff—a young man they had brought along with them from America as an official replacement for the late Mr Falstipp. But that did not explain his attire.

‘You could be fired for breaking the dress code alone, you know. Not to mention for the, uhm, actions you had just performed.’ You commented.

‘Well, you can always report me, miss.’ Eddie, against all his better judgement, smiled.

‘Maybe I should.’ Your heart was still pounding, and you felt so disoriented that even a simple smile made your head spin. ‘What is your name?’

‘Eddie.’

‘Well, Mr Eddie—’ you began, just to be quickly interrupted.

‘No, just Eddie.’ Eddie shook his head.

‘What do you mean? Do you have no family name?’ You had heard of men bringing in street urchins to work for them, but surely, this man was too old for such charity. And you could not imagine your brother to perform such acts of kindness anyway.

‘I do.’ His smile only widened in amusement at the conversation. ‘Eddie Munson.’

‘My, is it usual in America to introduce oneself like that?’ Never had you heard of a man introducing himself by only his first name, let alone a byname.

‘It is usual to me,’ he quipped, ‘And it is more common than not introducing yourself at all.’ The way in which he looked up at you from under his lashes felt accusatory, but you could not find it within you to be upset at the critique, so you gave him your name instead.

‘Pleasure to meet you, Miss Byrnwick.’ He gave you a small, polite bow that reminded you more of how children play Lord and Lady rather than a gentlemanly act. Next thing you knew, a smile was pulling at the corner of your lips, and a small giggle was ready to escape.

For some reason, you hesitated to say your following words: ‘It is a pleasure, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ While always respecting the titles of others, Eddie never saw himself as one to follow such formalities.

‘That is most improper.’ You held back the urge to scoff.

‘But I insist.’ There was something in the corner of his eye that you managed to catch a glimpse of—this spark that no sunlight or fire could match. It was pure mischief, a spirit of chaos. But still, to call a man you barely knew by his first name was simply not right. Your family may jest as they please about your rebelling attitude to primitive customs, but you had to admit that some things ought to be done in a proper manner. And this was certainly not it.

However, Mr Munson saw it in another light but did not find enough of an interest in the subject enough to argue it further. Rather, he cleared his throat briefly and observed you for a moment.

How silly you must look in your fancy dress! Your hair was done up to match, and your shoes were most likely covered in mud. There was also no doubt that he had overheard you talking to your horse about running away. You had good faith that he could connect the pieces to form the complete picture.

A bird flew past a window, making you glance past Eddie’s shoulder in haste.

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any other plans, miss?’ He finally asked. Could you be so bold as to admit that he was saving you from other commitments by conversing with you?

‘No, of course, not Mr Munson,’ you persisted. ‘I am simply cautious.’ Come to think of it, your screams must have been heard all around the grounds. If those who heard, in turn, had an ounce of common sense amongst them, they would have called for someone in the house. If that was the case, your mother would be here momentarily, and then it was back to the house for you. All you could do now was hide.

‘May I ask what are you being cautious of?’ Eddie followed you with his eyes as you walked through the stables, looking for a hiding spot.

‘If you must know, I am currently on the run,’ you stated while looking over a haystack in the far corner.

‘Ah, so whilst you had accused me of being a criminal, it was you who had been committing the crimes then? Should I now scream for help?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, ' you said, attempting to climb the hay to get past it. ‘I have already brought much too much attention to myself.’ Your foot slipped, making you tumble back down to the ground. The accident made you stop for a moment before attempting to climb again, looking over your shoulder at the man. ‘Are you not going to even try and stop me?’

‘Oh,’ it was as if he had awakened from a deep thought or had just realised that what you suggested was exactly what he ought to do. ‘Well, would you listen if I told you not to climb up there?’

You pondered his question for a short moment. ‘No, I highly doubt it.’ Thus, you resumed your climbing. As you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet behind you. The next time you slipped up, this time from a far higher distance, he had been in precisely the right place to catch you in his arms.

‘I cannot assure you I will be able to catch you once more, so it is in good conscience that I suggest you stop, ma’am,’ he said as you got back to your feet.

‘You are right,’ you admitted. Then you realised just how close the two of you stood and quickly occupied yourself by looking for another hiding place. That is when you noticed it. You had spent years in this stable and knew every inch of the space, yet… ‘Have you moved things around?’ You looked back at Eddie.

‘Only a little. I’m afraid my predecessor did not have a flair for organisation,’ he explained.

‘That may be so, but I would prefer you would put things back as they were.’

‘Excuse me?’ Eddie could not help but laugh at the demand.

‘Your new floor plan has completely disoriented me, ' you admitted. ‘It is unbecoming.’

‘My apologies. I will be sure to put things back as they were, then.’ His laugh still echoed his words.

You had not expected him to actually agree to this request. ‘You will?’ But quickly, you regained your composure and tried to hide the surprise in your voice. ‘Very well, thank you. Then, since you have discarded all of my possible hiding locations, what do you suggest I should do?’

‘I suggest you run.’ But it was not Eddie who had answered you.

‘Mother, ' you gasped. What was it, in God’s good name, with everyone sneaking up on you today? Lady Byrnwick stood at the threshold of the stables with her arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she took a step inside. You prepared yourself for a disciplinary outburst, but instead, your mother focused on the man standing next to you.

‘You must be Mr Munson.’ The kindness in her voice was laughable. The overcompensation of her kindness threw both you and Eddie off.

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ You noticed that he bowed his head in a much more orderly fashion than he had done to you.

‘I hope my daughter has not been too much of a nuisance.’

‘Not at all.’ Eddie politely replied.

‘Good, good. Well, I can already see that my son did a good job in finding you,’ she stated as she looked around the retouched interior. ‘And I hope that you will grow to enjoy England.’

‘I’ve had nothing to complain of yet.’ Eddie proudly said with that smile of his, and for a moment, you thought to have caught his eyes on you for just a second. Your mother nodded along with his words in satisfaction, but this cheeriness dissipated as soon as she directed herself to you.

‘Has your headache cleared, dear?’ Her eyes were spitting fire.

‘Yes, mother.’

‘Then we will be on our way.’ She stepped aside, giving you room to walk outside. ‘Goodbye, Mr Munson.’ Eddie had become the unintentional victim of the venom that perferred your mother's words.

He was polite enough to look away as you made your shameful walk through the aisle between the horses’ stalls, but you couldn’t help but look behind you one final time as you left and catch his favourable grin. What a peculiar man he was, indeed—one whose presence you immediately began to miss.

Perhaps that was because of the company you were in at the time.

‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Your mother scowled. ‘Mr Harrington has been waiting for well over half an hour.’

‘He is still here?’ You stopped in your tracks. This day could not have gone any worse. It seemed like everything you had been doing was working in your favour.

‘Yes, so you better come up with a clever excuse for your tardiness as I will not be embarrassed any longer. I swear, have you no shame?’

‘I am truly sorry mother, I had lost track of the time.’

‘Doing what exactly? What were you doing in the stables, exactly? Considering you had told me you were going out for some fresh air.’ Yes, the air around the horses was not exactly to be called “fresh.”

Unfortunately, you had no satisfying answer to any of your mother’s questions. Come to it, you yourself were unsure what exactly had brought you there in the first place, not to mention what made you stay. It must have been a sense of child-like naivete to think you could hide from your problems the way you attempted.

Problems that were coming closer as Mr Harrington walked towards you through the aisle of hyacinths that grew all around you in various colours.

‘What is he doing here?’ you mumbled towards your mother.

‘Considering the lovely weather, I had offered for us to sit out in the gardens.’ Your mother spoke out loud. That is when you noticed the set table and chairs under a large parasol on the patio.

‘I hope you do not mind. I took the initiative of taking a stroll in your absence.’ Mr Harrington spoke in a cadence that would have been new to you if not for the fact that you had spent the last hour in the presence of a very similar tone.

‘Of course, not,’ your mother had regained her ability to smile. ‘May I introduce my daughter.’ And so she did.

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. I completely lost track of time.’ You apologised and were ready to offer your hand to Mr Harrington when you noticed how filthy your gloves had become. In a panic, you pushed both your hands behind your back, trying to distract the man with a wide grin.

‘The important thing is that we are all here now,’ he manoeuvred, which you could not help but agree with, then led you to the patio.

The next hour went by faster than you had ever imagined it would. Mr Steve Harrington turned out to be not only a great conversationalist but a rather fascinating one at that. It was only a fault of your own that you were distracted for a larger part of the conversation. There was simply something about the man’s brown eyes that constantly reminded you of somewhere else. He was very charming and, abiding by your brother’s promises, had a great, though perhaps somewhat awkward, wit. It seemed that his confidence, once clearly overt, had been lowered, causing him to stumble over his words at times and laugh at his own mistakes in a deprecating manner, but never enough to make it a bother in your eyes. Truly, it was all rather endearing.

But you could not, for the life of you, figure out what exactly caused these fumblings in his character, as nothing seemed to be particularly wrong with the man. Though you did not see him as an academic or scholar of any sort, from the way he spoke, you could tell he was one of the more clever men you had the fortune of meeting. And his looks were certainly no topic of discussion either. He was tall and lean, with a wonderful smile and soft brown hair that apparently was more common than imagined, as were those dark eyes and the way he held you in his arms—

You took a sip of the cold water as Mr Harrington expressed his gratitude to your mother for the audience and made sure the message would be conveyed to Lord Byrnwick, too. You nodded and smiled along. Even when he bid you farewell and bowed his head, your mind was elsewhere. As if expecting something to emerge from behind the hyacinths, you could not help but glance in the Eastern direction of the gardens.

‘See, it was not all that bad, was it?’ your mother immediately said, pulling you back to the patio. By then, Mr Harrington had excused himself and was crossing the patio to the exit from the grounds but had turned briefly for a final goodbye, which you met with a polite wave.

‘No, I suppose you are right, mother.’ You had persevered against all odds. As you watched the gentleman leave, you felt quite content with the meeting—happy, some would even say. The only problem was that you could not make quite clear what, or rather, who brought on this particular mood.

Chapter 2

Thank you so much for reading!! I really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Remember the best way to support writers is to reblog and share. I love to hear what people think of my stories so feel free to leave a comment or an ask or message.

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delirious-donna · 6 months

Text

Dawn Chorus [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I woke up with Higuruma on the brain (I love him your honour). It was only going to be a few hundred words, but here we are… the man needs to sleep so he can love you thoroughly.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: some somno, established relationship, pussy drunk Hiromi, oral sex, creampie

Masterlist

Higuruma Hiromi is a passionate man. He cares about his work, about his contribution to society, and about his relationship with you. Higuruma is also a tired man, often awake at ungodly hours to meet deadlines or review cases that he is working on pro bono. You love your husband and the dedication he tries to infuse into every day, but sometimes he just needs to sleep.

On the evenings where you are able to tempt him into just another glass of red wine, another piece of creamy Gorgonzola atop a cracker and just one more kiss, you feel like you’re winning against all the odds. It’s always far more enjoyable to go to bed together rather than having Hiromi kiss you goodnight on his way to the study.

Cuddled up against his back, you laugh at his faux resignation at being the little spoon… again. In truth, he likes it. He adores being held and the little kisses you pepper across his cheeks when you lean over to wish him sweet dreams. He toys with your fingers, pulling your palm so it lays flush over his heart until slumber drags you both under its warmth.

Of course, you were right.

Higuruma needed sleep and after a full eight hours, his eyes spring apart rather than sluggishly creak open like broken shutters. For once, he can appreciate the warmth of the sun and the tangle of the sheets instead of cursing his need to get up and go. Most of all, he can appreciate you, his beautiful wife, still fast asleep and no longer clinging to him like a koala.

So pretty, he thinks whilst his lips caress the sleep-soaked crook of your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent with gusto. Patient and honest, he admits when he peels back the thin cotton sheet to nose at your breasts. He continues to nuzzle until your nipples peak, a slow smile curving his lips and he can’t help but lower your top so he can taste you. Utterly perfect, he assures in silence, you are the salve to all of his wounds.

The morning dose of testosterone, that he would usually either quickly dispel by hand or with the aid of a cold shower, has him impatient and aching. His cock twitches inside his loose pyjama pants, but he ignores it in favour of taking his time. Flicking his tongue across your pert bud, he whines in his throat when you arch in sleep, straining to press yourself further into his mouth and he takes the invitation to suckle until you wake with a gasp.

Your eyes snap wide, belly aching with some unknown pressure that continues to build without faltering. A head of black hair decorates your chest, wet little suckling noises matched by the sensation of pulling tugged deliciously behind your navel.

“Hiro… mm, someone’s hungry this morning.”

Hiromi’s eyes roll over at the sleep affecting your voice, arms stretching overhead before lacing through his hair to tug at the roots. Instead of replying, he presses his pelvis against your hip, the hard length of his cock evidence enough that you are absolutely correct.

“Take what you want, love, I’m yours,” you coo softly, wriggling your hips in suggestion.

It’s one he doesn’t need clarifying, Higuruma has you bare and spread within seconds of your invitation. Amazed at the sheen of arousal already decorating your folds, he laps eagerly at the residue until all he can taste is you. He thumbs at your clit, using those slender fingers to peel you open like a flower in bloom only for his tongue to wet along your pussy.

You keen for him, driven on by his enthusiasm and the telltale rut of his hips into the mattress below. The hook of his nose replaces his thumb, dragging side to side over your pearl as it hardens from the friction and arousal. Grabbing great tufts of his hair, you grind yourself against his face and in turn his hold on your thighs shift to the meat of your backside. Hiromi palms your cheeks, pulling them apart until you feel more exposed than you thought possible.

“Fuck… Hiro!”

He can’t hear you through the muffle of your thighs by his ears and the wild beating pulse inside his head. With feverish need he bathes you in his spit, not content until your dripping down to the sheets. The tip of his tongue digs into your entrance, giving a strangled grunt at the squeeze you give around the wet muscle, and he pulls back to look up at you.

“Sweeter than ambrosia. I swear you would be more divine than any God,” he mumbles breathlessly, eyes hooded but not with fatigue for once.

Words fail you, becoming stuck in your throat at such conviction in his praise. All you can do is reach out and cup his cheek, skin soaked in your essence and his saliva but you hardly care. You watch as he fumbles with the drawstring of his pants, lowering the band to reveal his cock, purple and angry from lack of attention. Oozing pearls of translucent precum leak from his slit, and you’re ready to be filled but he lays flat once more.

Hiromi tongues at your sweet clit, teeth gently biting and tugging at your puffy folds while he wets his fingers and pushes two into you, right to the knuckle. You cry out at the sensation, more than ready for the stretch but not expecting this. His wrist rotates, fingers curling in a come-hither motion and when his fingertips pass over that deep mass of engorged tissue, your thighs tremble.

“Sing for me, darling. Be my morning chorus.”

If this was going to be the result of Higuruma getting better sleep, then you would drag his ass to bed every night if you had to. He humps the bed, strangled noises mingled with sharp little whimpers when you push his face deeper into the apex of your thighs. You could feel the wetness pooling between your cheeks and dripping to the sheets, Hiromi’s mouth making out with your pussy in a rhythm that matches his adventuring digits.

He was breaking you apart, masterfully unpicking every thread that made you whole and waiting with endless patience until you unravel into his palm. The heat between your hips grows too much all at once, the friction on your clit and the relentless thrumming of his fingers against your sweet spot blinding you without warning.

“Oh, I’m… fuck! Hiro—I can’t h-hold back!” Your voice warbles like a songbird, crescendoing into a shriek of bliss that could shatter glass.

Higuruma delights in your orgasm—revelling in it—stilling his fingers to feel your velvet walls clench and spasm around him and slowing the lap of his tongue to soft kitten licks. He massages your waist lovingly, stroking featherlight fingers across your quivering and soft stomach until you float back to earth.

It was all he could do to stave off his own release, his balls heavy with need and drawn tight to the base of his cock. He knew the moment he sat on his haunches there would precum staining the sheets, but he cared little considering the mess he’d already made from loving you so thoroughly.

Gingerly, he sits back and hisses at the slap of his cock against his stomach. You moan, squirming on the bed and he catches your eye. Your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, pupils blown wide and that’s all he needs to pump himself with wild abandon. His wife wants him. His wife is attracted to him. His wife always does the best by him.

His strokes were long but frantic, the slick sound of his foreskin rolling back to reveal his cockhead so sinful that he punctures his lip with his teeth. White hot heat drips from the small of his back, hips and backside tightening with the impending release.

“W-where?” He asks with a stutter, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Inside, Hiromi, please?”

“Shit, shit, shit.”

He lunges forward, bracing on one forearm whilst he notches at your still softly pulsing entrance and pushes inside. Your arms wind around his neck in urgency, kissing his face, his neck, his shoulder and anchoring your legs around his lean waist.

No sooner was he buried to the hilt, than his orgasm hit like a force of nature. His arms tremble, spine bowing and flexing under the pressure whilst he paints your most inner walls with thick, creamy seed. He collapses into your loving embrace, settling his warm cheek at your collarbone and damn near purring at the gentle stroke of your fingers through his hair and down his back, smiling dazedly.

Higuruma Hiromi is a passionate man, especially when he’s had a full night's sleep.

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #jjk higuruma #higuruma hiromi smut #higuruma hiromi x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw somno

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cepheustarot · 5 months

Text

Who will appear in your life soon and why?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: An optimistic and cheerful person will soon appear in your life, who is looking for the pros and positives in everything. By themself this person is calm, reacts calmly to difficulties and problems in life because he believes that everything can be overcome. This person is able to adapt to sudden changes but prefers a stable life without impulsive changes. They can also be called moderately emotional, they do not dramatize and do not react sharply to anything but they are not stingy with feelings. By the way, they are very good friends, loyal, always ready to support and help, ready to help with solving any problem. They can also be generous, constantly give gifts, can pay the bill at the store / cafe for you, can get tickets and invite you to an event, to a movie, etc. Next to this person, there is a feeling as like a stone wall, you can always rely on them, you feel calmer with them. But this person can be very picky and categorical at times as they may have a peculiar taste and therefore it is difficult to make a choice. This person can also fall into melancholy, apathy at times and at such moments becomes uncommunicative, talks little, shares something, generally closes themself in. During such a period it is important to support them the same way they do and then they will be able to return to their former state soon. This person will appear in your life as support and help in order to fulfill your goal. They can either directly participate in achieving the goal (for example, motivate, work with you on, be in the role of your coach, etc.), or morally support. To a greater extent I see that this person will play a role in realizing your desires but this does not mean that they will do everything for you, they will inspire you to take action.

Pile 2: A very emotional and sensitive person will soon appear in your life, to some extent i can say that they like to romanticize a lot around them, like to create aesthetics and a certain atmosphere, look beautiful, dress up, decorate a room or something like this. I see that they like to create something with their own hands and their activities have creative features, for example, they can draw, write, create something from clay, they can create compositions from flowers, do scrapbooking and everything like that. As I said earlier, they are very sensitive, they may have developed high emotional intelligence, their facial expressions are very emotional, they may have competent speech in which it is very rare to hear word-parasites. They deeply appreciate the connection with loved ones and if you can get closer and trust each other, then such a person will remain in your life for a long time. They also work a lot of time, they are purposeful but they need to see the result, otherwise their work will come to naught without it. They can become very attached to things because for them it is something memorable and associated with significant events in their lives. This person will come into your life as an employee, a work partner, you can work on a project with him, make a deal, you can come up with ideas for creating something (here you can also include the creative sphere, for example, you will write a song together, you will work on creating a book, a series of short stories, you will do the feat). Cooperation with him will be painstaking, very saturated, sometimes difficult, as it is difficult to get along with them or you may not agree on some nuances but the result of the work done will definitely please you two and your efforts will pay off, bear fruit.

Pile 3: A somewhat mysterious, cold, detached and introverted person will soon appear in your life. They do not really like to talk about themselves, show their intentions and attitudes to a person not through words but through actions and deeds, through their behavior. This person likes to spend time with himself, they generally may not consciously make many friends, acquaintances, like to be alone, they value their personal space very much. They are also anxious individuals, constantly immersed in their thoughts, they may have low self-esteem which they hide very much behind their behavior. It is difficult for them to make a choice, they are very indecisive and very easily give in to pressure from the outside. They probably have as many complexes and fears. But at the same time, they are very smart, hardworking and diligent, erudite, they like to act according to a plan, they have everything clearly thought out and calculated. They are also passionate about a lot of things and have a lot of knowledge, know a lot of facts, can support almost any topic with this knowledge. They are curious, inquisitive, like to learn new things, explore something. Speaking of why such a person will appear in your life... To be honest, I don't see any positive aspects here. They play the role of a person here, a third person who spoils relationships with people and they can negatively affect your relationships with friends, family or acquaintances in the company which will cause a strong quarrel between you. So for the most part, this is a warning, be careful! Perhaps these people will want to "take revenge" on you in this way or frame you because they dislike or have a personal dislike for you. They could also be offended by you because of some trifle but for them this trifle looks like a whole tragedy.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

#tarot #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #tarot reading #pac #pick a picture #pick a photo

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letorip · 5 months

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i heard your name

"i heard your name and i'll never be the same”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after a life of fleeting things, you come to tennessee, and find someone you don’t want to be “fleeting” anymore, though she may come with ulterior motives

warnings: rivalry, references to sex, hints at student-teacher relationships, reader is being used (duh)

word count: 4.8k

A/N: i really really hate the concept of miller's girl as a whole, but i can't deny that cairo sweet is a captivating character psychologically, and that jenna does an absolutely amazing job. inspired by lolita, pale fire by vladimir nabokov, and the movie hot summer nights.

===+++===

You became aware of Cairo Sweet on a hot, sunny school day, one that almost seemed to mock your lack of enthusiasm for the new school in its beauty and the light breeze.

The high school was an ugly building, one that sat in limbo between southern charm and the studious American educational experience seen in the likes of pretentious New England. The decorator had clearly not known which one to pick, but no amount of fancy classrooms or bookshelves and Turkish rugs would make you forget you were in Tennessee of all places.

It would be just as unmemorable and brief as the last, and that’s exactly what you reminded yourself while you waited dreadfully early in the front office, in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair that had one leg much shorter than the others.

The receptionist lady seemed nice enough, smiling at you all bright and wrinkly like old people did. “So sorry about the wait, dearie. Any minute now, she’ll be—”

“It’s no problem,” you shrugged. “I’m not really in a rush.”

The woman nodded, her eyes melting into little crows feet at the ends. There was a theory you had heard once, that the more wrinkles someone had, the more they had smiled in their life. It didn’t fit many of the crotchety old people you had met, who seemed to have frowns permanently stitched onto their leathery faces, but it definitely fit her. She glowed like a beacon, or twinkled like a chandelier of happiness.

“Are you excited about coming here?" She asked. "Starting the new semester has to be exciting!” The entire time the older woman kept sheepishly glancing over at the door, waiting someone to come in. Whoever was supposed to be guiding your tour was clearly very late.

You had long given up on hoping your mom would pick a spot and stay there. In two more months maybe, she would announce she 'wanted a change' again, and you wouldn't give this place a second thought when you left, just as you hadn't given the last places a second thought either. But you couldn't just say no.

You smiled back at her. "Yeah, kinda. This seems like a good school."

"Oh it's just splendid!" She assured you. "The kids love it here, it's just-" Before she could finish, the office door swung open, and a girl in crazy clothing bustled in, dropping her bag on the floor in the middle of the room and spinning to the receptionist.

“I’m so, so sorry!” She said, visibly dishevelled (though maybe that was just her nonsense outfit) and maybe sweating a bit. “I completely forgot I was supposed to do this!” She laughed. She seemed like one of those girls that were always drunk— not in a sad, alcoholic way, but like they were drunk on life (and maybe alcohol too).

“It’s alright, Winnie. They haven’t been waiting long.” Winnie spun around, noticing you where you sat, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Hi there, I’m Winnie,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile. You stood up and shook it in your own, smiling back. This would all be fleeting anyhow.

“Hi, yeah I heard. (Y/n)."

Winnie tilted her head, giving you a devilish smirk. She was absurdly energetic for it being so early. "Boy, aren’t you cute.”

“And aren’t you really forward,” you laughed.

She shrugged. “I think it’s more fun that way. You got a nickname?"

"Eh," you shrugged. You did, from your mom, but it wasn't worth mentioning when you wouldn't be here that long. "Not really."

"Nooo, you definitely should have one," she said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.

"I'm really good, I think," you said, grinning. "Not the most nickname—able name out there."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Suit yourself I guess. Now c’mon,” said Winnie, sticking her hand out to you. There was a certain glint in her eyes then. “I’m gonna show you every little place in this shitty little school.”

"Winnie, language!" The receptionist scolded her.

"Sorry," she winced.

Winnie dragged you around the halls like that, hand in hand and pointing into classrooms; she waved to the people that she passed. It was decent sized school, with a big cafeteria and gym, but not much else unique to boast except for the few sports fields outside. Your last school didn't have that, but it had been northern Alaska, so it made sense. It was probably hard, what with the snow.

“Boris!” Winnie waved over at a man in a track suit, with a whistle around his neck that all gym teachers seemed to wear. He rolled his eyes, waving back at her. "That's Coach Fillmore," she explained.

“What’ve I told you about that, Winnie?” He asked.

Winnie slipped her red-heart sunglasses over her eyes, flashing him a smile. “Still your favourite though, right?”

“Yeah yeah.” And he turned his attention back to the football field, coffee in hand. Winnie spun back to you, with an almost infectious aura.

"So, why'd you move?" she asked, grabbing your hand again and tugging you back inside. The metal door slammed shut behind you with a loud thud.

"Witness Protection Program," you shrugged as she pulled you around the corner. “On the run from the cartel." She looked at you like you were crazy for a moment, eyes all wide, then you laughed and ruined it. "I'm kidding. Not actually."

"OOooooO, I like you. Cute and unserious. I thought you were going to be all square, but it turns out you can joke," said Winnie, shaking her head at you. "What's your locker number, again?"

You handed her the paper. "She wrote it on here."

Winnie took it from your hand, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and examining it like a slide under a microscope. "Ah, damn. You're on the opposite side of the school from me. Like literally, the exact opposite side. That's good though, right? Your first block is Calc?"

"Uh, no. It's uh..." you stopped, leaning against a wall and sliding your backpack off. You pulled your schedule from the top pocket. "Creative Writing, with Mr. Miller."

Winnie's eyes lit up, and she punched you on the arm. "No, fucking way?! That's my first block too!"

You shrugged. "I'd honestly rather do that than calculus right now, so."

Winnie laughed. "Yeah, you and any normal person." She stopped for a minute. "Are you okay if I go off and get some breakfast before class? Winnie hungee," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I also kind of ditched my friend, and I told her I'd find her."

You nodded. "Go ahead. I'm just gonna find my locker."

"Okay!" She said, giving you a small salute. "See you in class."

===+++===

You found your way well enough, and after fumbling with the big metal lock and struggling to put the code in, could actually open your yellow locker and throw the heavy bag you had been carrying inside.

You could see other kids walking up and opening theirs around you. Their doors had metal magnets and small whiteboards, stickers and posters. You hadn't brought stuff to decorate your locker in four years. Instead, your backpack had everything you carried in it, ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The creative writing classroom was down a hallway that split off near the gym, and luckily seemed less ugly than the rest of the school. The room smelled of pine and paper, which was probably a good sign, and bookshelves and glass jars littered the walls with a bunch of other random things setting the scenery for the big chalkboard and wooden desk in the middle.

Most of the other students were already there when you arrived through the double doors, including Winnie. She stood at one of the front desks talking to someone. When she saw you, she waved, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree even from afar. In her past life, this girl would have been a golden retriever. You waved back then turned away, heading to one of the back desks that put you firmly away from the teacher's line of sight.

Mr. Miller seemed like an alright guy, or just enough of one. He didn't do any cheesy introductions of people, or make you do one of those stupid icebreakers that made you want to die, no�� he was straight to the point, with just a splash of drama.

"Hello everyone! This semester my main goal is to make you write. And I mean really write." He paused for dramatic effect, as if he thought it was Dead Poet's Society. "This is not like your other English classes, where you put minimal effort into a 'meh' essay and turn it in, and you're happy with a B. No, I want you to feel something."

After that, you couldn't help but tune him out. He wasn't bad, no. But he was just boring and unremarkable, and anything a high school writing teacher from Tennessee would be, in the way he stuttered or played with the lid of his plastic coffee cup.

He spent most of the class prattling off the syllabus and giving out the first assignment, due in a couple of days. You weren't especially interested in writing as a whole, and even less interested in the prompt of 'write about you,' but you shoved the paper into your backpack and figured you'd give it a shot.

"Mr. Miller?" asked a voice from the front.

"Yes, Cairo?” Mr. Miller said, and you raised your head up, looking to where he was speaking. The hand belonged to a girl with dark hair, and you immediately recognised her as the one Winnie had been talking to before class. She was clearly very smart, with a small stack of books on her desk in front of her.

“Are we talking about ourselves literally, as in our achievements, or as in our emotions and how we feel?” she asked. Cairo looked pretty when she talked, though you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. This was fleeting. It was important to remember that.

“It’s up to you, actually,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his desk. “Whatever really lets me know you.” Boy, how cliche.

When class ended, Winnie bounded over to you with a smile, her school bag tucked under her arm like it had been earlier. “Sooo, how was your first class?”

“It was pretty good, no complaints,” you said, fumbling with your folder and shoving it back into your bag.

“So, listen, do you want to sit with me at lunch? Me and Cairo sit together and you can totally join us if you want,” said Winnie, still as bubbly as ever. She gestured towards the door, and you could see the girl from earlier looking through the books on the bookshelf that stood next to it.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I got invited by a group to sit with them and I already said I would.”

Winnie frowned, pouting cartoonishly with her lower lip drooping. “No worries. If ever again though, me and Cairo would be happy to have you."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

You ate lunch that day leaning against a concrete wall underneath the football bleachers, with no one else around, a thick paperback in your one hand and a sandwich in the other, headphones over your ears.

===+++===

"Thank you all so much for your submissions," Mr. Miller said, a stack of essays sitting under his arms as he passed them back to the class. The weather of that Friday was much more relaxed, with a smattering of clouds covering up the sun, the way you liked it.

The past three days had been just as uneventful as the last, and you went home each night only to wake up the next morning and stay equally as unenthusiastic, and attempt to bury your face into the fabric of your pillow for another five minutes.

He cleared his throat. "I've decided to do something fun, and kind of crown a 'winner' for the week, if you will." He shrugged. "It's just someone I really was impressed with, and want to recognise so, uh, we'll do this after every writing piece."

From behind the class with your head propped up on your palm, you saw Cairo tensing at his words. It had become clear even through disinterested observation that she cared way more about the class than literally anyone else— maybe even Mr. Miller. She raised her hand first, offered feedback on anyone made to read aloud, and always stayed after. She was probably itching for the recognition and you figured she deserved it too.

Which was why it shocked the hell out of you when Mr. Miller walked right up to his desk, put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat like he thought it was a drum-roll moment, and announced, "this week I was incredibly impressed with (Y/n)'s writing."

There was no way. You froze, not entirely sure he was talking to you. Maybe he had just mispronounced someone else's name indistinguishably close to yours. Cairo's head whipped around, face equally as in shock. There was no way. Winnie was smiling at you, other kids were staring, and you wanted to die.

"Uh...thanks."

From the other side of the room, Winnie whooped for you, clapping a little, in an awkward way. Someone else let out a cough. Mr. Miller shook his head, and said, "No, thank you. Your writing was really impressive. It made me feel, in a way that was refreshing from some other things I've read."

Cairo whipped back around to gape at him for a moment and then back to you. Then, back to Mr. Miller as he continued. "I don't have much in terms of prizes, but there is a bowl of candy over there, and you can take one if you'd like."

You nodded, standing up and making your way over to the clear bowl. Why the hell not. Writing had never been something you thought you were fantastic at— you had never shared it with anyone since there had been no one to share it with. Your fingers went in, and out you pulled a grape lollipop, retreating back to your seat and popping it in your mouth.

From the front, you felt Cairo glancing at you from over her shoulder, but tried to ignore the raising hairs on the back of your neck with her focus on you. “Okay,” said Mr. Miller. “Turn to your textbooks.”

===+++===

The grape lollipop was still in your mouth at lunchtime, leaning against the concrete wall and feeling the hot Tennessee breeze ruffle against your soft shirt, moving it gently against your skin. It was quiet out, and you had your headphones over one ear, leaving the other one to listen to the trees and the wind.

That's how you heard the footsteps from around the corner, even through your music. You looked up from where your eyes had been tracing the cracks of the concrete and watching the ants walk by into their nearby hill, and there she was.

Cairo Sweet had found you.

She stood a bit down the way, on the path, with her arms crossed right over her chest. Her eyes were just as dark as before, and they bore into yours with a strange carnal desire. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Uh, hi?" you managed. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

"So, how long are you going to keep lying to Winnie for?" Cairo asked, her voice as smooth as butter on your ears. It was a question that caught you completely off guard in its sincerity.

"Uh— I'm not— I haven't been lying," you stammered. Cairo wasn't convinced; her eyebrows lifted a little, creasing her forehead in disbelief. She took a step, one agonisingly after the other, closing the distance between you two until she stood directly beneath you, staring up through her lashes in a near haunting way. Subconsciously you took a small step back.

"I have a question," she whispered, like it was right in your ears. You could feel your blood rushing to them quickly, and it felt as if everything was happening in an almost sinful daze, slow and burning.

"Yeah?" you murmured back, fighting against the lollipop to speak. It made it harder to swallow.

"Can you smell my perfume?" Cairo asked, and your brain hung off every word that spilled from her lips.

"Yes," You clumsily nodded, eyes shooting down to her perfect mouth as it moved, then up to the freckled apples of her cheeks. You knew you were breathing loudly. "It's lavender, and—"

"—Good," she praised, barely audible in her sickly soft whisper. You nodded again, head feeling heavy. God, this girl. "Good," Cairo said again. You didn't know what to say.

"I want to read your essay," she continued, scanning the bleachers for a moment and then eyes shifting back to you in full force. She had you right where she wanted you. Under her thumb.

"Uhhhh, why?" you trailed off, confused as all hell and letting out an awkward laugh to cover.

"It's good, isn't it?" She asked, challenging you with her stare and a smirk, as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing to you chemically. "I haven't found many I want to read."

"Essays?" You mumbled.

"Good ones," she corrected you, whispering it slowly. Your gaze lowered to her lips again, her lower one caught between her teeth. Her own eyes flew to the lollipop, the stick hanging between you both.

Your breathing hitched when her hand came up, lightly grabbing the end and oh so gently pulling it from your mouth, some of your saliva carrying with it. She twirled it, never breaking eye contact with you as she placed the purple crystalline sugar on her tongue, closing her mouth around it for a moment. Cairo smiled, then pulled it from her lips and placed it back in yours.

You blinked slowly, unsure of what this was but finding it all too addicting to know how to stop it. At the sound of voices in the distance, the spell was broken, and Cairo looked back over her shoulder. You cleared your throat, realising the situation you were in.

"What're you trying to do?" You asked. It wasn't a gentle question, but it wasn't a harsh one either. Part of you wanted her to whisper back something cheesy and romantic. Or maybe you wanted something salacious to come from her all-too-plush lips, and the moment to end with hers on yours.

But instead she just blinked at you. It was like the question had taken her power away; she faltered completely. She frowned, almost frustrated by you asking, and she didn't have an answer. "Just let me know about the essay? I'd really like to read it."

Before you could reply, she turned around and walked away, as if going back to a drawing board far off in the distance. You watched her go, turning the lollipop over in your mouth.

===+++===

I should like to think that when I am older, the places I have been will make me cry. They will not meld together, in one long train; I will not move from car to car, blazing past what it may contain and never stopping to look out the window.

I will slide into a booth or take out a folding chair if I must, and watch the world go by. I will sit atop the mountains or amongst the grains of sand on a beach, and watch my eyes begin to water in the light of the setting sun.

Your eyes scanned over the essay in your hands, flipping through it and looking at all of Mr. Miller's notes. There were only four, and two of them were 'Wow!'. Even knowing he was impressed, you were at a loss for how this could be considered impressive. It was just words on a paper. Not difficult to write them, or copy them down. You were just talking, but on a page.

My mother seems to think I can’t hear her crying through the walls at night, wishing she were different. Her tears keep me up, and I trip and drown in the puddles of her despair, falling through the surface and into the depths hidden beneath, whenever I leave my room. I love her, and she always manages to convince herself I do not. She loves me, I always must convince myself she does.

It was this paragraph that made you hesitate, standing behind your locker door and rereading it over and over in your mind. There was no way you could show this to someone- and especially not Cairo.

And right there, like Cairo was conjured up by your mind, she was walking right past you, bag over her shoulder and book under her arm. You looked at her pass, the voice in the back of your mind whispering the word fleeting into your ear. It had been a week since your uncomfortable conversation (if you could even call it that) from underneath the bleachers, and she was acting weird.

She was almost avoiding you, and it was rather noticeable. Not to anyone else, who were unaware you knew each other existed, but to you, you knew. When Winnie said good morning and Cairo happened to be there, she would glance away, fully aware of you staring at her like a big idiot.

You found your way into the classroom, and Mr. Miller was writing something on the board in big white letters. It said 'MEANING,' and 'SYMBOL' in a smaller script underneath. He turned back when he was done, smiling over at Cairo and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She always was the class favourite, and it made sense. Even if your writing was enchantingly fantastic, or some other amazing bullshit word Mr. Miller would write in blue pen that made you doubt he could actually read, Cairo was the one who actually tried. "I want everyone," he said, clearing his throat with a grunt, "to find a partner and sit down with them. This is going to be a partner activity."

You froze. Shit. These things sucked when you were the new kid who knew no one. You glanced over at Winnie, hopeful you'd find a partner in her, but she was madly gesturing towards Cairo to get her attention, and it made you smile a bit at the look on her face— until you saw who Cairo was staring at. You. Your smile went away in an instant.

Her brown eyes were staring at you again, sharp and intense. Then she picked up her bag, tucked the books she brought with her under her arm, and made due on her plan to pick you. You sent your glance away, as if to pretend you couldn't tell she was coming for you. And yet when her books landed on the table with a soft thud, you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Care to partner up?" She asked, pulling the chair back to sit down before you could even answer. From the other side of the room, you could see Winnie staring at you, looking confused as all hell.

"Uh, sure," you managed. Was she just going to pretend you two hadn't shared whatever that was? It seemed to be the case, and it seemed she knew you were uncomfortable. Cairo Sweet almost seemed to relish in doing that to people.

"So, how'd you enjoy your first week here?" She asked, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a fresh page. She leaned forward, crossing one leg over her other.

You shrugged carefully. "It was good. Boring, but good."

Cairo nodded. "This is a really boring town, so that makes sense."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. She made putting sentences together incredibly hard for you.

Mr. Miller's assignment was boring beyond belief, but Cairo sat up straight the entire time he gave out directions, eyebrows lowering a bit or head tilting after every clarification, like she was making a mental reminder to remember that later. You attempted to ignore her, looking over to the bookshelf on your other side out of boredom.

They were all leather bound, in alternating shades of brown and green, and some hardcovers in sheathes intermixed. Finnegan's Wake and Scienza Nuova, Being and Time and Infinite Jest, you recognised and had read them all. Day-long car rides would do that to you, and it was within reading you found a particular solace from your mom screaming along to the radio.

"(Y/n), are you listening?" Cairo whispered over at you, pulling your gaze back towards her. You nodded, even though you weren't. Her leaning in seemed to fill your nose with her smell. It was lavender, and it was overpowering.

She raised her eyebrows at you like she knew you were lying again. "Really? What're we doing, then?"

You blinked. Shit. "Uh...I don't know, sorry," you apologised, feeling somewhat sheepish. Cairo gave you a judging look, and you were starting to feel like maybe she was regretting choosing you as her partner. She sighed.

"It's fine. Do you want to maybe come over on Friday? We can work on the paper," she said, playing with her pencil. You frowned.

"I thought Winnie said there was a party on Friday."

Now Cairo looked confused. "Are you going to that?"

"I thought you were?" You questioned, trailing off. She laughed at that, like it was a funny suggestion.

"No, it's not really my scene. Winnie's the partier," she grinned. "A party animal, even."

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little bit. "That makes sense. You're probably writing or reading instead or something."

She seemed intrigued. "Is that what you think of me? A nerd?"

"Uh..." there was a certain heat flowing towards your cheeks, and it felt like the room was a million degrees. "A little, yeah."

"Wooow!—" Her voice rose in a mocking offence.

"—No, I don't— That's not!— I—"

"You think I'm a geek."

"Yeah, only because you're always reading and stuff, so," you argued, raising your hands up. She laughed.

"So if you read, that makes you a nerd?"

"That's obviously not what I'm saying, but the normal kids just go home and watch a show or something," you shrugged. A beat of silence passed between you, and you groaned, realising your mistake and dragging your hands down your face.

"'Normal', huh?" She asked. You sent her a glare, only to find her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she smiled at you, taking great fun in making you red. Then, within an instant, as if it had been flipped like a switch, the weightless look in her eyes shifted to something far darker.

"You know," she said, and you found your heart catching in your throat. "I don't only read in my free time. I find other things to do." She was back at a whisper, leaning in towards your ear. Each enunciation reverberated in your ear drums and filled your brain with sinful ideation.

"I actually like to do things over and over. Creature of habit, really," she continued and your eyebrows rose. The classroom felt even more humid than it had before, and some sweat was already forming on your forehead. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, and you felt hyperaware of how he kept glancing towards the both of you, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face at the almost voyeuristic display.

The bell rang, and just as if nothing had happened, Cairo stood up, gathered her things, and walked off like she had under the bleachers.

"Wait-" You were left frozen there, watching her go out the door and down the hall. It took another ten seconds of sitting there for the spell she had cast on you again to be broken, but when it did, you shot up.

Clumsily you threw your notebook into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and taking off as quickly as you could. You wouldn't let Cairo flee.

She was near her locker, where you found her a few halls down. From over her shoulder, Winnie saw you coming, and sent you a friendly wave. Cairo followed her eyes, turning towards you and eyes widening. She was clearly surprised, crossing her arms over her chest as you walked right up to her and stopped.

"I have a question," you said.

"Ask away," said Cairo.

You nodded, thinking for a moment. "Why'd you pick me as your partner in this?"

She scoffed at this, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes like you were missing something obvious. It hadn't mattered how loud the passing crowd around you was. You heard her loud and clear, and it filled you with a sense of warmth that you hadn't felt since "fleeting" was just another word in the dictionary and not a mantra.

"Because, I think you're special," she said, only to you in the crowd of passing kids. You couldn't see Mr. Miller watching you both intently from the far wall, one arm crossed over the other.

===+++===

okay so this may or may not be a series i'm starting, but i at least know there is a part two that's already halfway done. part of what took me so long and why i've been gone for like a month has just been me agonising over every damn word. so. enjoy this bad boy ig? not that much happens in this part, but i promise the next part will be kind of crazy.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl

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thisiscarlatrying · 5 months

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modern!ellie hcs

notes/warnings: this is my first time doing something like this.. 😭😭 i hope u like it🙏 also, ellie and reader are dating and a lil of loser!ellie... that's just the way she is 😞

not proofread i think, i'll try to make it as good gramatically as i can but no promises 🙏🙏 (english is not my first language forgive me 😭😭)

| CONGO, SUDAN, PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK | DON'T BUY TLOU |

modern!ellie who cuts her own hair.. she REFUSES to go to a hair salon, she says it's a "waste of time and money"

modern!ellie who is kind of into fashion, i think she'd dress like this or like this...

also i just know she LOVES LOVES LOVES jorts, when spring starts that's ALL she'll wear

AND you guys just share clothes, you steal all her clothes and she steals yours

modern!ellie who wears a LITTLE bit of makeup, just mascara and chapstick. highlighter for special occasions

also her lips are so dry... 😭 she applies chapstick every five minutes and is constantly losing hers so you had to get her a one of those BIG vaseline things because she wouldn't stop stealing yours

modern!ellie who is a cat girl. you guys have like three cats together and they all look like the both of you

also their names are you guys' ship names until you ran out of name combinations and the names you had to choose were something like "sardine" or "chicken nugget"

modern!ellie who just loves kids cartoons like adventure time or the amazing world of gumball

modern!ellie who is CONSTANTLY daydreaming about being spidergirl and swinging around the city (spidergirl!ellie hcs coming soon... 🤭)

modern!ellie who plays minecraft and stardew valley for eight hours straight

modern!ellie who LOVES youtube and can't have a meal without watching a video

i KNOW she loves sinjin drowning. I DON'T MAKE THE RULES 🤷‍♀️

modern!ellie who has an INSANE vinyl collection.. it's all divorced dad music but she also owns a few of your favourite albums for when you come over<3

modern!ellie who is a barista. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY. while she's studying in college or something she works part time at a cafe... picture her with her little ponytail (like 17yo ellie) and her sleeves rolled up... UGHHH😭😭 she's so fine i can't.

talking about college... modern!ellie whose major is something nerdy like physics, astronomy or engineering... or maybe even architecture since she likes drawing so much

modern!ellie who was BEGGING you to move in with her until you finally agreed.. your apartment is the cutest thing ever, i feel like ellie's decorating style would be something like this:

modern!ellie who loves cuddling SOOOO MUCH. she's so touchy, she just IS.

modern!ellie whose burps make the entire building shake. it's actually insane and they smell so bad like.. you can smell the subway meatball sandwich she had for lunch earlier that day 😭😭

modern!ellie who constantly brags about you being her girlfriend, she never shuts up about you. and all of her instagram and tiktok posts would be about you (except from her outfit checks, of course)

modern!ellie who loves those cliche robbing movies, do you know what i'm talking about?? like those about robbing a bank or a museum and there's this incredibly unrealistic plan that comes out perfectly... THOSE kinds of movies. she eats them up EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

modern!ellie who fights with people on the internet constantly 😭😭 she sees a comment on a tiktok video with an opinion different than hers? SHE'LL REPLY. and she's going to wait for HOURS for the other person to respond

modern!ellie who secretly loves laland. i said it.

modern!ellie who either sleeps for 12 hours straight or won't sleep for two days. there's no in between.

modern!ellie whose walk is so funny 😭😭 it's almost like she's jumping while she walks

modern!ellie who carries a picture of you absolutely EVERYWHERE

and your apartment is filled or pictures of both of you

modern!ellie who loves her friends. she makes those stupid tiktok slideshow trends about friends but posts them privately because she's embarrased about it 😢😢😢

modern!ellie who has a journal and writes every single thought that crosses her mind down. and when she doesn't have her journal with her she writes in her notes app

modern!ellie who secretly fucks with taylor swift's sad songs and cries to them

okay i think that's enough.. im getting a little too carried away 😭😭 lmk if you like them or if i should make a part two!!

#ellie williams #ellie headcanons #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams x reader #modern ellie #lesbian #wlw #tlou #tlou2

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sculkapologist · 22 days

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I finally finished a NEW CUSTOM MAP ART!!! "Visitor," a portrait of an enderman, is extra exciting because it's my first full-palette map painting, meaning I used block height to access all the highlight and shadow colours available!! More on the full process under the cut, but the short version of what this means is:

ITS A VERY COMPLICATED CONSTRUCTION. I created the art, then planned and built this manually, without any mods or schematics for construction. Huge props again to everyone else in the server for helping me gather all the materials to make this absurd thing possible!!!

This was the original art I made for it! I'm a huge fan of the "compressed" look of the vanilla paintings, so I've been starting with a large image and shrinking it down, though there were a lot of pixel tweaks to get it to read well. After shrinking it to 16x32 (for an art made of two maps), I convert it to a limited palette that I've set up to match the colours minecraft actually has available:

The map palette is actually tremendously limited, so figuring out a painting that will still look good with that constraint is a challenge in and of itself!

Anyway, the way minecraft maps work, a block that is Taller than the block to the north of it shows up with a slightly lighter colour, and a block that is Lower than the block north of it shows up on the map with a slightly darker colour. So when making a key for this one, I marked all the squares with a little arrow if it's the lighter or darker version:

Each "pixel" here is a full stack of blocks on the mapped area: 64 blocks, 8 rows of 8. In order to achieve the affect of every block in a given pixel being taller or shorter than the block to the north of it, dark and light shades need to staircase either up or down. Because staircasing downwards in survival sounds even worse than this madness, I did some planning to make sure each of the "downwards" staircases would touch the ground, so I could simply staircase up from south to north instead. This involved figuring out how many up and down movements were in each individual column and planning out 32 little layouts:

It's worth noting that if you look up minecraft map art on Youtube, most of what you'll find is either, the simple realisation that placing blocks allows you to make custom map art, or an explanation of how to use a generator that will let you plug in any picture and then produce a schematic for you. It's very cool that these exist, but I wanted to do full palette art myself, without an auto-generated schematic, and at the time THERE JUST WEREN'T ANY TUTORIALS FOR HOW TO DO ALL THIS?? Now, having the experience of finagling all this, i think perhaps the reason is that this is a mad undertaking.

ANYWAY: PROGRESS SHOTS!!

I actually love how the staircases look..... its like some kind of modern sculpture

Fewer shots of the second half since I did it on call with friends; the last screenshot is one Thren took of me activating the new locked map to use for the gallery.

Once these paintings are done, I lock the finished maps, make copies, and stock them in the art gallery so other friends on our server can also put these paintings in their homes! It's a lot of work, but really rewarding to see my art decorating various buildings around the server. ;u;

I have one more custom full-palette painting I've done the art for and gathered all materials for; I still need to do the full key and plan staircasing for it before I can start, but HOPEFULLY if my resolve doesn't waver there'll be at least one more of these!!

#minecraft build #minecraft screenshots #minecraft #block game liveblogging #minecraft map art #GENUINELY SO PROUD OF THIS ONE #bsl shaders #im so tempted to make some sort of tutorial on doing this by hand sometime. you shouldnt do it by hand. but a tutorial should exist!!

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lixiektty · 1 year

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the range — kinktober day one

word count: 3.5k (i got carried away lol)

warnings/kinks: harddom!heeseung, sexworker!heeseung, sub!reader, language, oral (m. receiving), protected sex, squirting, degradation, a little praise, fingering, spanking, pet names, dirty talk pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!

author's note: long time no see! i'm back for kinktober. i'm really trying to work on being active on here, after kinktober i hope i can accomplish just that. i hope you all enjoy my upcoming works for this month!!

you had heard about this place a few halloween's back— you hadn't expected it to reopen this year, giving you again another chance to go. the reviews were good but there was no way of seeing exactly what you should expect when going in.

all you friends pushed you to go, not that any of them had been before either, but they thought it'd help you let loose a little. you were just questioning yourself nonstop, mind switching between going and not going. you thought, maybe this could be a little fun...

tonight was halloween night, a ticket had to be bought within 24 hours of your arrival, so you rushed to your computer yesterday morning and bought one for yourself. you dressed up in a strapless tight leather dress, fishnets hugging your legs. it was basic, yes, but you looked hot, and your besties thought so too when you sent a picture to the groupchat.

walking into the attraction had your heart racing. the main area to scan your ticket was a small booth right before the entrance to the actual building. a lady sat there, face speaking for itself, saying she's bored and over it. you had to sign a waiver which honestly freaked you the fuck out, what happens in there other than a good fuck?

when entering, it was pretty loud. smoke filled the small hallways; lights were flashing brightly. you didn't know what you were supposed to do or where you were supposed to go.

it was a good two minutes when you finally heard footsteps right behind you. before you could even turn, a hand was placed over your mouth to mumble your screams and you were yanked through this curtain that hid a door right behind it. once you got into the room, it was decorated as if you were in a horror film. the hands on you let you go but still didn't turn you around. you felt shaky, all of this was so new—so unexpected.

"you're a pretty little thing, aren't ya'?" the man spoke, placing his cold hands on the back of your thighs, fingers running between the spaces left from your fishnets. he breathes heavily, almost like he's hungry, as he felt around your body.

you hadn't even gotten a good look at his face, wanting to know the face of the guy who was about to fuck you crazy. for a second you had hesitated to turn, but you finally did and looked up into his eyes. the only thing that had been on his face were two fake smile cuts— blooding dripping from them, he was attractive though, no kidding. you couldn't get enough of the way he looked down at you, still wearing his acting face and trying his best to continue portraying this character while you're still in front of him looking like that.

"did i tell you to turn and look at me?" he asked. no, but you wanted to.

"i— i just wanted to see what you looked like..." you replied, feeling so small with all the dominance he carried.

"does it matter? you're not gonna see it while i'm fucking you, you can barely see with these lights anyways."

"but— i saw enough," heeseung was a nice guy in real life, this character though was the complete opposite— aggressive, rough, overly dominant and so on. having to keep going on with this facade when you said things that had him blushing and instead of treating you like a princess, he'd be treating you like a slut.

"on your knees," he said through gritted teeth.

right away you were kneeling before him, face to face with his bulge and looking up. he held your chin to tilt your head up a little bit further. "what an obedient slut," he chuckled airy and let go of your face.

you watched as his hands trailed down to fiddle with his button and zipper of his black jeans. the feeling of excitement filled you and it caused a pool to form in the lace fabric you wore.

the minute heeseung pulled his cock out you didn't even get to give a reaction before he was forcing himself inside your mouth. you hummed lightly, loving the way he tasted on your tongue. he watched your head move forward without his help, watching the dirty sight and listening to your moans in satisfaction.

heeseung threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck you were so aching to mark, "fuck," he let out softly followed by a few pants.

his hands move to the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair and gripping onto it tight. the sting sent to your scalp added a whole new feel of pleasure, nothing was being done to you, yet you were making more noises than heeseung was.

your eyes had closed just a little while ago and once you opened them and look back up, you make eye contact with the man. he squints and tilts his head a bit, that being enough to intimidate you and closing your eyes yet again.

"ah— nope, look at me," heeseung says, demanding voice deep and raspy.

you hesitantly open your eyes again and look up into his eyes. heeseung pushes himself deeper down into your throat, holding you there until your nose was almost kissing his pelvis. tears filled your water line, and you let out very few choking noises before he was pulling out fully removing himself, thank god for your lack of a gag reflex.

his heavy cock hung right in front of your face, your black lipstick leaving one single ring around the base, "look at how good you take it, so messy— just how i like it."

heeseung rubbed his tip between your lips, glossing the precum all over them. the aching between your legs just seemed to grow and it wasn't like you could tell him to hurry up, that'll just piss him off. he didn't like being rushed, plus he was control right now.

everything had happened so quick, one minute you were on the floor and the next you were being thrown onto the bed— fishnets ripped and underwear at your knees. the leather hugging your body had barely moved and heeseung just needed to see more, see how your ass moved against him and your hips rocking back and forth.

"you're so wet darling, who's got you all worked up?" he asked, a evil chuckle following.

you hadn't answered, too afraid to speak if you were being honest and heeseung didn't appreciate that. a sharp slap was sent to your ass, and you jumped, gasping but enjoyed the sting.

"i asked a question, don't start acting up now," he sounded hot every time he spoke, if only you could see his face right now.

hands gripped onto your hips, eyes trailing down your body and falling in love with the view. with the amount of shifts he's worked here and all the people he has fucked he had never been so into a customer like he was into you.

"you, you did—" you finally say.

"good, you speak," he says, "now keep going with that pretty mouth of yours."

two of his long slender fingers plunged into you, curling and sending this new shockwave throughout your body. an exaggerated moan left your mouth, you hadn't remembered the last time you felt someone else's fingers but yours and it feel amazing.

"you're sucking them right in, doll," heeseung comments. his fingers moved steadily, a twist of his wrist every now and then.

his digits were nearly soaked from you, not like he really minded anyways. if anything, he thought it was hot you were this wet for him, dripping from his fingers and making all these noises.

screams, moans, and the faint sound of the spooky music they had playing could be heard— along with the smoke machines and buzzing of lights, yet your moans were all heeseung could focus on.

"shi— more, please more," you begged.

heeseung couldn't resist, making enough space to add another one of his fingers and move faster. each thrust of them became rougher and had you clawing at the sheets. he did so well, and of course he knew what he was doing, he worked here for a reason.

"good god, you're so tight," heeseung bent down to press a kiss to the back of your thigh, licking up the arousal that had dripped down and groaning from the satisfying taste, "and you taste so good."

all he could think about now was how he wanted to go raw on you and feel the way you clench around his cock tight, barely allowing him to move, but it was a requirement that the workers use protection in order not to catch nor spread anything. it made him grow this irritation because he really just wanted to know how you felt— and even filling you up with him cum and watching it leak from you, though he knew he couldn't do that, the thought just didn't go away.

"wish i could fill you up, but i'm afraid i can't doll," he says, disappoint heard in his voice.

you wondered why, then remembered what you had read on the contract about the protection rules. to feel his load was only something you could imagine, now you wondered if you would see him again, run into him and flashback to this night. he'd take you back to his place, or even yours and you could finally see his face clearly, clear of the fake scars and being able to actually see it in the light.

"you'd probably take it so well, huh?" he asked. you hum and wiggle your hips, moving them side to side to add to the pleasure, "what a proud cumslut."

that familiar knot tightened up in your stomach and your bud throbbing, aching for the attention. if you would have reached back what if heeseung slapped your hand away and denied you of any contact? which is exactly what he did when you tried.

you tighten around his fingers and feeling your mind getting fuzzy, heeseung pushing you closer and closer to your high.

"i— i'm close," you moan out.

"so quick?" again, you moan out but in embarrassment.

it just felt so good, how could he blame you? with each thrust of his fingers and jerk of his hand, it was only a matter of time before you soaked the both of you. heeseung watched as you squirted, twisting and turning his fingers roughly inside you as you did.

"didn't know you could do that," he said, smirk plaster on his face.

his fingers were out of you after being trapped in for so long, your hips collapsing trying to get some rest but heeseung wasn't done. and he wasn't giving breaks.

your hips were soon propped back up, heeseung placing your knees on the bed. he needed to fuck you now, feel every part of you. he nearly forgot to get protection due to how distracted he got watching you drench his fingers and clothing like that— your cum running down the back of your thighs, oh was it a sight.

heeseung grabbed the condom that usually was left on the nightstands, grabbing and removing it from the package. he stripped himself from his jacket and his shirt that was wet because of you, rolling the latex slowly onto the head and down his shaft.

"hurry and fuck me," you say, with a wiggle of your hips just barely hitting the head of his cock with your heat.

"you're an impatient little bitch," heeseung rolls your dress up to your waist, sending an aggressive slap on your ass—making you flinch. he held onto your hips tightly before pushing himself in, the sound of him hissing behind you at the feeling made you clench tighter around him, "sucking me right in, how fuckin' pretty?"

heeseung's hips started at a slow pace, a small whimper leaving your lips as he filled you to the brim, so easily controlling you with everything he did and every word he spoke. as his pace started to grow faster, your hands clenched onto the comforter—feeling all of him, inch by inch.

"m'gonna abused this sweet pussy of yours, darling." he smacks your ass harder and began pistoning into you. each stroke went deeper and deeper, splitting you open like no one has before.

you moan loud, all the wet sounds and skin slapping overpowering the loudness of the smoke machines, other women's screams, and anything else that made noise outside of this room, "how are you so fucking big?" you struggled to ask, genuinely wondering how someone could be the size he was but fit so perfectly inside you.

"it's a blessing, i guess," he shrugged, knowing how cocky that sounded but it just played into his character.

he continued to pound into you and letting out the nastiest of groans, getting lost inside you. never in the two years he's been working here as he ever felt like this before. it was always nothing but a fuck, a paycheck, and then going home after fucking girls back-to-back, but you... he could fuck you without your money even being involved. you were a goddess in his eyes, and the slutty costume you wore didn't help him control his thoughts.

heeseung pulls out of you, manhandling you onto your back, yanking your panties down from your knees and discarding them then pulling your dress up more. your legs spread for him instinctively and his cock filled you back up immediately. heeseung watched how your body reacted to him—fucking you with sharper thrusts this time.

"pretty girl, give me another?" he hovered over you, bringing one of your legs up to your chest. you nod in response, heeseung smirking as you let out another moan, "good, i want us drenched."

as time went on, and heeseung's movements only got faster—you felt yourself being pushed further to the edge. ear splitting squeals left your throat and soon you were cumming fast and hard. heeseung pulled out, fingers immediately traveling down to your clit and rubbing harshly throughout your orgasm. heeseung's torso was now dripping, the picture of his state locked in your mind.

"fuck baby, can you do it again for me?" heeseung asked, fingers still toying with you bud gently causing you to jerk up into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut and letting out and mumbled whimper, "please?"

that made something in you snap. you felt so obedient, so needy and it was all for him. you nodded to the best of your ability, heeseung grinned the second you did. something about his sinister makeup made him so incredibly attractive in a way, so much more dominate.

he stood back up straight, positioning himself to slide back into you with ease. your back arched off the bed giving heeseung a chance to slip one of his arms under you and hold you in place. his body was pressed against yours, his hips beginning to move again.

moans spilled out of you, you were just too sensitive and already worn out—anything you did you had no control of in the moment. you felt like a toy for him to use, which wasn't a bad idea at all, infact you were hoping he'd treat you as just that.

heeseung looked at your scrunched up face and open mouth, letting out the prettiest sounds he had ever heard. he plants a kiss on your chin, trailing them down to your neck and your collarbone, leaving a few marks behind.

"i could fuck you all night until you pass out," he mumbled against your skin.

you clenched around him at the thought of him using your body until you were putty in his hands, "i-i think i will s-soon if you make me cum again," you stuttered, your sentence causing him to giggle, "and i-isn't there a ti-time limit-t?"

"am i not the worker?" heeseung asked, looking into your eyes with his dark gaze, "if i'm having a good time i can do whatever the hell i please... meaning if i wanna fuck you for hours on end and make you squirt over and over again, then i will do so." he goes on to explain.

you weren't sure if he was still in character—saying the things he'd say to any of the girls that came to the range, or if he got so lost in the moment that he forgot he was supposed to be acting for the sake of good tips and instead meant every last word he said.

heeseung thrusted up hard into you, getting closer to his orgasm. he felt so pussy drunk, he was feeling dizzy and his hips began having a mind of their own. you felt his free hand coming to toy with your clit again, rubbing like he was trying to get you to cum messy and fast again.

"f-fuck, fuck i'm gonna cum~" you cried out. heeseung chuckles devilishly, leaning down to lick across your jawline and then whisper into your ear.

"be a good slut, make me cum and i'll make you," he whispered.

you whine, clenching down onto him, your eyes snapping shut as you tried to hold on—hoping he was close. his slender fingers slide up and down along your soaked core, pounding into you until he released. you had only wished it was actually inside you. the thought itself made your hips twitch and you were cumming again—this one hitting a lot harder than the previous ones.

both you and heeseung's moans synced with one another, feeling sticky from sweat and cum. you stayed like this for a while as you tried catching your breath. heeseung's body had collapsed onto top of yours, his hips still slowly moving.

once he had finally got up, he wiped his abs clean using a folded towel left on the nightstand—tying his condom and throwing it into the trash.

"made you break character," you comment, chuckling afterwards.

heeseung laughs at you as he got dressed, kneeling down to pat your inner thighs dry. you examined your thighs as he did so, dripping from your many intense orgasms, ripped fishnets and flushed skin from the amount of harsh skin on skin contact.

"you're fucking amazing, my favorite customer by far," heeseung comments, collecting your panties as he was still on the ground and handing them to you.

"yeah?" you asked, leaning back on your hands and spreading your legs a little further, earning a smirk from the man between them, "better than all those other whores you screwed?"

heeseung stood up, throwing the towel into a different bin—an airy chuckle escaping his throat, "you're the best whore i've screwed, baby." he admits.

you hum, leaning forward and looking up at him with big eyes, "you tell all your customers that?"

heeseung upperhalf bends down, your chin ending up between his fingers, "only the pretty ones, and they don't come often," he says, forcing your head up slightly—lips so close to his, "you're different though. i like how your body reacts."

he lets go of you, holding his hand out to help you to your feet. you take it, pulling your dress back down once you did finally get up. your legs felt weak, your entire body felt weak, and your brain was still trying to process what the hell just happened.

"not to mention you know how to suck dick like no other," he adds as you were trying to fix yourself before you walked out that door, "should come back again, can't promise you'll get me next time though."

"what if i don't want anyone else next time?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

all he does is smirk before placing his hand on the doorknob, "i'll just tell my coworkers to keep their hands off of you until i find you." he says as he opens the door for you, "you have a goodnight now...i need to get back into character. you fucked me up."

you smile before saying goodbye, walking out of the door and through the curtain. you walk down the hallway you originally entered the room from and went back to the front to collect your belongings.

"how much would you like to tip?" the lady behind the booth asked.

once you got your purse back, you pulled out a 50 and gave it to her. her eyes widened when she took it into her hands, looking back up at you, "good time huh?"

you nod, giving her a soft smile before grabbing your things and walking away from the building. it was almost an internal instinct to grab your phone and call your best friend.

the phone only rung twice before yunjin answered, "hello?" she spoke.

"hey..." you said lowly. she didn't know what to make of it. either you hadn't gone, or you did, and it was a disappointment.

"oh my god, did you not go through with it?" yunjin asked, you could hear shuffling on the other side of the line.

you chuckle, still walking to the parking lot, "no...no i went through with it alright."

"well, what are you waiting for? spill!" yunjin said, urging you to share your experience.

you thought back to what had just taken place in that building behind you five minutes ago, wanting to say fuck it and start running back and pay extra just so you could see heeseung again.

"the guy i was with was so fucking hot, jen. i'm telling you right now, that is the best sex i've had in a minute." you admitted.

"see! we told you it'd be fun," she says, you could just tell she was smiling as she said that, "did you get his number?"

"unfortunately, no," you said with a frown as you approached your car, unlocking it and getting in, "but i think i'll be coming back soon."

#heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enha smut #enha imagines #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kinktober

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