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#hmm that should be my new series
brailsthesmolgurl · 3 months
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"Where's Mummy?"
A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!
Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation
Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)
RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL
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"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"
His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.
You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.
Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.
Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"
"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."
The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.
Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.
So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.
"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"
"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"
"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again
Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.
...
When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.
"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."
"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"
"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.
"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.
Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.
"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."
That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.
"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.
"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."
˚ · • . ° .
ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS
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"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."
Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.
"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.
Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.
Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.
"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"
"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.
Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.
Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.
"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.
Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.
"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.
"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.
Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"
"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.
...
Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.
Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.
"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."
"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.
"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.
The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.
The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"
"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."
"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.
"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.
"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.
You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too
˚ · • . ° .
XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON
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"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"
"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"
"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"
"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.
But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.
You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"
Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."
Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.
Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.
"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.
"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls
...
"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.
"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"
"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.
Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?
The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.
"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.
The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.
"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.
The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.
"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.
"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."
"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.
"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.
But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.
"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."
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Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!
But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3
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drvscarlett · 3 months
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Let him cook
Charles Leclerc x Masterchef contestant!reader
Series Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
A/N: Got this idea because the masterchef trophy is similar to the Australian GP trophy. This is going to be a series
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Charles_Leclerc posted a new photo
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liked by CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly, and 365,000 others.
Charles_Leclerc Add professional chef to the list
User1 aint no way you cooked this
User2 nice try Charles but we all saw that pasta video
CarlosSainz55 mate drop the # of the private chef you hired, these look delicious
Charles_Leclerc I told you that I made this myself CarlosSainz55 Lies!!!!
PierreGasly since when did you learn how to make coq au vin???
Charles_Leclerc not you too PierreGasly you should invite me sometimes so I can judge your cooking
Y/NCooks posted a photo
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YNCooks last date night before i enter masterchef australia. credits to the boyfriend for the lovely photos
Friend1 Y/N i know this is your dream for a while now. I hope you win. We will cheer for you our next masterchef australia!
YNCooks awww stop! ur making me cry
User1 OMG she is finally competing, goodluck Y/N!
User2 Y/N always talk about how its her dream to enter masterchef, I'm gonna watch it everyday and hope she wins it!
User3 Goodluck Y/N! I hope you become the next masterchef australia!!!
Mystery Box challenge episode
There was a building reputation in the kitchen that you are one of the strong homecooks of the season. After winning the past 2 mystery challenges, you were extremely determined to do well and seek for a third streak. The mystery box today was all about italian cooking, a cuisine that you have been comfortable due to the close ties of your boyfriend being signed to an Italian team.
"And what do we have here with you today Miss Y/N" Matt Preston asked as he approached the work table together with George Colambris "You seem rather comfortable and in your own zone. Its like an ordinary Tuesday date night"
You gave a small chuckle with that mention "That's actually pretty on point of you to say as Tuesday is my date night with the boyfriend"
"Ah so maybe that's why you are so inspired because you are in love"George teased.
"Well I have to admit that there is a little pressure to do well in this challenge or my boyfriend's family will get mad at me"you quipped back a reply.
The judges suddenly leaned a little interested to learn more about your personal life, "So your boyfriend is italian?"
"He is not but he might as well be. He spends a lot of time there"
"It must be hard to not see him a lot since you are here competing" Matt says
"It's a price we are willing to pay. He has been supportive of my dream as I am with him" you gave an encouraging smile as you continue to chop the sweet potatoes.
"We hope to meet that boyfriend of yours because he is one lucky man because that dish looks delicious!" George says before they left the station.
Somewhere in Bahrain, Charles Leclerc is grinning upon watching the replay of the episode. He was beyond proud of what you have achieved as a contestant in MasterChef. He wished that he could do more to express his support towards you but you have an agreement with him to keep things lowkey for the meantime. It was a reasonable decision as he didn't want to overshadow your career but it was nice to know that you two are a private thing but never a secret.
He was so engrossed to repeating the boyfriend clip that he didn't notice that Carlos snuck up beside him.
"What are you watching there?" Carlos asked his teammate
"Oh its nothing" Charles says as he immediately exited the Youtube app "I didn't notice you there, you scared me"
"If you weren't too into your phone then you would have noticed me calling you" Carlos explained "What are you watching on your phone that got you smiling like that?"
"Nothing, I just saw an ad"
"Hmm sure an ad" Carlos was pretty sure that Charles was watching MasterChef but he couldn't care anymore to ask which country because there was too many so he decided to just let it go "Cmon Fred is asking for us, were late for a meeting"
"Carlos! Why didn't you start with that?"
Cake challenge
You were exhausted because you spent the early hours of the morning watching the Jeddah GP. It was a thrilling race to see Charles bag his first podium of the season so you can say that its worth it. Besides, you were able to talk to him after the race so it sweetens the deal even more.
Filming begun for MasterChef and the judges brought out balloons for the mystery box challenge.
"Your challenge today is to make the most imaginative and creative birthday cake that you ever had" Gary explained "The pantry is filled with all the cake flavors you can ever imagine so be creative and show us what you've got"
Baking has never been your strongest suit. It was all about precision and measurements as small increments can make a huge difference. Today, you were determined to do well and you wanted to use the podium finish of Charles for the cake.
It was a struggle to bake the cake, cool it, and pipe it in under 60 minutes. You felt the pressure getting under your nerves as your hands started shaking when you were piping the cake details with 10 minutes left. There was a sigh of relief when you finished just 5 seconds away from the judges calling the time.
There were plenty of beautiful cakes in the room so it was a shocker for you that the judges called you in front to present your cake.
"Judges what I have for you today is a three layer cake with the raspberry,almond, and pistachio with chocolate to seperate the layers and a lemon buttercream frosting."
"You told us you can't bake, that seems like a lie" George says as he cuts through the cake "Look at that layers"
"The layers are actually inspired by the italian flag, its an homage to the boyfriend. Its actually a cake that I made thinking about him" you explained.
"That is simply gorgeous. The cake is very moist and the balance with the flavors is that its not too sweet or nothing overpowering. Your boyfriend is a lucky lucky lucky man to be baked a cake like this" George complimented.
"Does your boyfriend cook?"Matt asked as he took a bite
"Oh God no. I have to cook or else the kitchen will be on fire"you laughed "But I can't drive so maybe that's his payback"
"You seem to show the beautiful dynamics of your relationship when you cook something inspired by him. I wish you two the best" Matt's genuine comment was a heartwarming moment.
Its unfortunate that you didn't win this challenge but you were able to showcase your support for your boyfriend.
Melbourne GP meets MasterChef
This was another challenge as you were elected as a team captain for the second team challenge. You were extremely nervous when you were transported with your team mates from the blue kitchen to an unknown location. It was even more nerve-wracking after you've realized where you are.
"Welcome to the Albert Park where the Australian Grand Prix is underway for this weekend" Matt introduced "Your challenge is to prepare two dishes: a pasta and a fish dish to be served to the talented drivers in Formula 2"
There was a little sigh of relief as you were dealing with the Formula 2 drivers. It was a lot of weight on the shoulder if you will be serving food to your boyfriend.
"The practice sessions will be starting in a few minutes. You have 90 minutes to prepare your dish and an hour to serve them"
All you know was that you started organizing the team to put them in charge of the dishes that you will be making today. You cross your fingers that the color red brings luck to your team today.
Meanwhile, the paddock was buzzing with cameras and Charles immediately noticed that there were some new film crews around the Formula 2 drivers. His eyes did a double take after he recognized the face of three familiar judges he often sees on MasterChef Australia.
"What's going on? Isn't that MasterChef Australia judges?" Charles quizzed
"That's MasterChef Australia, they have this team challenges and they will be feeding the Formula 2 drivers" Silvia answered as she was informed earlier that morning about the extra exposure in the paddock today.
"Why Formula 2? Why not us?" Charles whined
"If you want then you could go ask Ollie for food" Silvia suggested
That sets a lightbulb moment for Charles as he excused himself to talk to the young driver. He will not miss the opportunity to taste the cooking of his secret girlfriend and support her in doing her craft.
It puzzled Ollie Bearman to see that Charles has been looking for him once the practice session was over. He was even more confused by his request.
"So you want me to get you food?" Ollie asked "Doesn't Ferrari have a catering?"
"Its not just food, its the MasterChef Australia food" Charles explained without giving out too much information "I just love the show okay?"
"You can come along, I'm sure they don't mind" Even better.
So here is why you were genuinely surprised to see that Charles Leclerc is walking inside the MasterChef tent with a red and blue plate in his hand. He was grinning wildly as if he was a kid on a sugar rush.
"Ohmygod we are serving food to Charles Leclerc!" one of your teammates whispered.
"Hi goodafternoon! What's the dish for today?" he asked politely.
"Well we have a pan fried cod with a pea puree and then some green grapes some fennel over there and then for the pasta lemon ricotta and beet tortellini" you answered as the team captain "We hope that its up your liking"
Charles gave you that smile that seems to light up the whole room, "I look forward to it, thanks!"
Its moments like this that you wish that you could reach out for him but you understand that its not yet the time. Its nice to see the support that you have for each other even though its all in private and away from the eyes of the media.
"Goodluck on your race Charles!"
There was a smile on both of your faces as you both continued to go chase your dreams.
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screamin-abt-haikyuu · 4 months
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You're jealous but you can't do anything because you're not dating him (Part 7) - Wakatoshi Ushijima
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Pairing: Ushijima x Fem! reader
Genre: Angst to fluff
Warnings: none, really? Reader calls him Toshi.
Requested by: @ushisrever
A/N: Can't believe I posted the last update to this more than two years ago. Has it really been that long???? The incomplete series has been bothering me for two years now lmao. Didn't think I'd ever find a fitting scenario for Ushiwaka but thanks to @dira333 helping me sound off some ideas, I was able to get that perfect "snap!" you get when you fit a puzzle piece in perfectly. Gave me enough brain juice to write this out before going back into hibernation.
Serving you some fresh, hot angst and then some lol. Enjoy the burn and then the healing. For someone who was as far removed from Ushiwaka (emotionally) as one can, writing this actually made me see him in a new light. Loved writing him. Hopefully, it stays as true to his canon nature as it can. Hopefully I don't trash this before it's out💀 but if you're reading this, it's good lol.
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It feels like the entire Shiratorizawa is at the gates of the school.
"I can't believe she's coming to our school!"
"AAA I can't stop imagining how she'll look in our school uniform."
"Do you think she already has a boyfriend? Maybe I have a chance?"
"I don't know about a boyfriend but you certainly don't have a chance with her."
"Must you always be so cruel?!"
"If you think a star child actor who has made it so big in the industry is going to date a simpleton like you, you're delusional."
You sigh, annoyed, as you try to make your way through the babbling crowd. You're already late for your morning classes and you couldn't care any less about Hoshiko Nakamura. Or any celebrity for that matter.
"In fact, I don't think any boy in this school has a chance with her. Hmm... except maybe Ushiwaka? Not that he'd be interested in dating her anyway. Sometimes I feel like that guy doesn't have any emotions at all."
Your ears perk up at the Ace's name.
Wakatoshi Ushijima has become somewhat of a celebrity at school ever since he was selected for the under 19 representative for Japan in the Youth World Championship.
He was already well known as the formidable volleyball player who crushes any team that he takes on. However, his serious and stoic nature has kept most people from approaching him. Till now, at least.
The girl was right. Wakatoshi wouldn't even think about dating anyone. You seem fairly sure of that. However, the suggestion still leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
You're wrong about him not having any emotions you think as you finally break free from the crowd and sprint towards your classroom.
You've known Wakatoshi for as long as you can remember. You remember when his family moved into the house next to yours when you were just little kids. You remember watching the reserved, determined figure of the boy practicing volleyball all by himself in the nearby park. You remember going up to him and offering to play with him. Out of all these memories, the most vivid of them all was the way his eyes subtly lit up when you said you wanted to play with him.
Time has blurred into a haze since then. Even though you both went to different schools all through junior and middle school years, you both kept alive the tradition of playing volleyball together in park.
"You should come to Shiratorizawa," he had said that fateful day. You both were in the last year of middle school. It was a beautiful evening as you both walked back home from the park, the setting sun throwing hues of red and gold across the partially cloudy sky.
"That's not in my hands. I tried in middle school, remember? I want Shiratorizawa but Shiratorizawa doesn't seem to want me," you said, kicking a pebble on the road. Funny how I could say the same about you.
"That was three years ago. You have grown," he said without pause.
"We'll see. I don't want to get my hopes too high. You know just as well as I do that they give preference to athletes over normal students like me. Casual volleyball games with you are just about as sporty as I get," you said as you reached out to open the gate to your home.
You turned to say goodbye to him and found him looking at you, his expression more serious than usual.
"It's not about athleticism."
"Shiratorizawa only accepts the best. Be it volleyball or anything else. I believe you fit into that category. You should come," he says, looking straight into your eyes.
Your stomach flutters. How could he have so much faith in you? There is no doubt that he believes in you because Wakatoshi Ushijima always means what he says. Almost 5 years of knowing him had taught you that. You still found it hard to digest, though.
"I'll try my best, I promise."
"I know you will."
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"Class, please give a warm welcome your new classmate, Hoshiko Nakamura!"
You can't help but gawk at her. Saying she is pretty would be a severe understatement. If she looks pretty on screen, it is nothing compared to what she looks like off screen. You look at your desk partner to see if he is thinking the same. Wakatoshi, however, seems to simply be listening to the teacher.
"Miss Nakamura, I'm sure you will have no problem settling in here. To kind of help you settle in this new environment, I was thinking of seating you next to Ushijima as I believe you two have met before at some of the national events."
The teacher might as well have thrown a bus at you and it would have felt just about the same as you do now.
Hoshiko's face lights up. "That would be great. Wakatoshi-kun has always been a delight to be with. Thank you for having me," she says and bows.
Did she just call him by his first name?
"Ah, Y/N, sorry for springing this on you so suddenly. I wanted to get a hold of you before morning class but couldn't. I hope it's not a problem," the teacher says.
You force a polite smile. "It's not a problem at all," you say and start packing your bag.
Hoshiko walks up to the desk and waits patiently for you to gather your stuff, thanking you again.
Your legs feel heavy as you take the empty seat diagonal to them in the adjacent row.
I'm panicking for no reason. They just know each other from an event. It makes sense to make her sit with a familiar and safe person, given her popularity. Yes, Wakatoshi is definitely the ideal choice in this scenario. He is not someone who would be creepy in any sense. He's also strong and intimidating so it would keep the creeps away. It's fine. It'll be fine. Nothing is going to happen between them... right?
"Wakatoshi-kun, I'm so glad I got to sit next to you," she says, smiling at him, speaking loud enough for people sitting nearby to hear.
"Actually, if I'm being honest, when I decided to come back to my hometown to complete my studies, I knew I wanted to go to Shiratorizawa immediately," she continues.
"Of course. Shiratorizawa is the best school in the prefecture. It's only natural to want to study here," Ushijima says, completely seriously.
Hoshiko blushes. "Ah... that is not what I meant... nevermind," she says, causing the guy behind them to burst into laughter.
It seems like the hollow sensation growing in your stomach is here to stay.
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It has been two months since the day Hoshiko joined your school. With Ushijima going to school earlier than usual and practicing late into the night for the Inter High preliminaries, he hasn't been able to spend much time with you lately. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered you because you could see him in class everyday but with Hoshiko now taking your place, you barely get to say more than hi to him.
However, with the prelims now over and the upcoming week-long break ahead, you're hoping to get some one-on-one time with him once again. All these years with him have made him such an intrinsic part of your daily life that it feels like something big is missing when he's not around. To the world, Wakatoshi Ushijima might be a lot of things. But to you, Wakatoshi Ushijima is home. He is comfort. He is strength. He is someone that you know like the back of your own hand. He is someone that your heart always keeps coming back to. He is the only love you have ever known.
You know that he doesn't share the same feelings for you. But that doesn't stop your heart from longing for him.
The lessons for the day are over and you walk back to your class, eager to pack your bag and go home with Ushijima. You wonder if he'll want to go to the park in the evening.
"She's asking him out! She's asking him out!"
"No WAY! I am SO jealous."
A small crowd has gathered around the window and they're whispering amongst themselves as they look outside.
"Man, that Ushiwaka is so lucky! He gets to date the most beautiful girl in the entire country."
"I mean… he is in the nation's top 3 aces and an under 19 representative of Japan. Not to mention he's tall and strong and good looking. They're actually perfect for each other."
Your heart drops down to your feet.
You look out the window and find yourself looking at Hoshiko and Ushijima standing a ways away from the school building. They're in a quiet, secluded spot and Hoshiko seems to be blushing as she says something to him. You see him nod and say something in return. Hoshiko's face lights up in pure delight and even though they are at a distance, you can hear the joy in her voice.
"No way!!!! He said yes?? I thought he wasn't interested in girls!"
"Goddamn it! There goes my chance!"
You feel dizzy as you watch the two of them walk back to school together.
No. This can't be. You have always known that he doesn't like you that way. But you thought he wasn't interested in dating at all.
No. You shouldn't make any assumptions just yet. These gossip mongers are messing with your head. For all you know, he could have said yes to being in a show or something. You shouldn't despair before you hear the truth from him.
You blink back your tears and run to your class. Thankfully, it's empty. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and wait. Both of them soon appear in the hallway. The crowd surrounds them instantly, wanting to drown them in questions but Ushijima breaks away from them easily and walks towards the class. He comes up to you.
"Y/N. I'm sorry I won't be able to come to the park today."
It's true.
"Hoshiko and I are going to watch this new movie playing at the theatre-"
He's going on a date with her.
"Apparently it has a lot of volleyball in it-"
He's going on a date with h-
"You should join us."
Huh?
"What?"
"I figured you might like it since you play volleyball with me even though you don't play it otherwise."
What? What? What?? What is happening right now??
Ushijima patiently waits for your answer.
"Uh... Whose idea was it to go to the movie?"
"Nakamura's. Why?"
"And how did she bring up the idea?"
"Well, I was returning from the club and she asked to speak to me in private. And then she told me about the movie and if I wanted to watch it with her."
He didn't get it.
"Ah... Toshi... I'm pretty sure she was asking you out on a date."
His eyes widen with surprise.
"A... date? But she never said she had romantic feelings for me."
Could this mean...? Can I hope...?
"Well, her asking you out on the date was her way of saying it."
"I see. I didn't realise. Thank you for telling me. In that case, I should tell her my feelings for her as well."
He has feelings for her.
Your heart shatters.
You're glad that he walks out right away because you couldn't have stopped your tears from coming out even if you wanted to. You run out of the back door, desperate to get far away.
I guess I was the problem all this time. I just wasn't someone you could look at that way.
You had always known that. You had always known that he didn't feel for you the way you did. But that hadn't stopped you from falling for him. Hard. How could you have not? Eight years of knowing him... You didn't even realise when you fell for him. Loving him just came so naturally to you.
Logically, it makes sense. They make sense. She is beautiful and tall and smart. And so is he. They are the type of couple who would be featured on the cover of a magazine. Which, given their career trajectories, is bound to happen sooner or later.
But the heart doesn't care for logic and at this moment you feel like it will actually burst from the amount of pain you're feeling.
You spend the rest of the evening and the entire night crying in your room.
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Morning comes and you feel worse than ever. Your head is throbbing, your nose is stuffy and your eyes are swollen. You decide to skip school. It's the last day before break anyway. Maybe this break will be good for you. It will give you some time to adjust to everything and compose yourself.
You go back to bed and sleep through the entire day.
You thought you'd feel better after getting some rest but you still feel like shit.
You drag yourself out of bed. Your entire body feels like it weighs ten times more.
Maybe a shower and some fresh air will do you good.
You head out.
No matter how much you try to think of something else, your mind keeps coming back to him. Your eyes keep searching for him. You look in the direction of his room. The curtains are open and you can see it is empty.
Of course he's not home yet. He's probably out with her again.
Even though it's barely a minute away, you feel exhausted by the time you reach the park. Thankfully, it is empty.
You sit on one of the swings and look around. Most of your memories with Ushijima are tied to this park. This is where you both have spent the majority of your last eight years together.
All the sweet memories make you tear up again.
"You didn't come to school today."
You were so lost in your head that you didn't realise when he walked up to you. You blink back your tears.
"Oh... hi. Yeah, I - I wasn't feeling very well today," you say, not meeting his eye.
"You seem upset."
He noticed.
"Oh... I'm fine. Really. It's just been a rough day. It's nothing to worry about," you say, still evading his gaze.
He sits on the swing next to you. You look to the side and see he has a volleyball in his lap.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
You quickly avert your gaze again.
"No."
"I see. Well, would you like me to distract you? Talk about something else?"
It is getting harder to keep your tears in check. You're sure your voice will crack if you speak. You just nod.
"You would've liked the movie. It wasn't as focused on volleyball as Nakamura said it would-"
Great. He's chosen the worst topic he could have talked about. You don't want to hear about his date. You need to change the topic. Quickly.
"What are you doing here?" you blurt out the one question that has been weighing on your mind ever since he came here.
"What do you mean? I came here to play volleyball with you."
"I- I mean... I thought you would spend your free time with Ho-Hoshiko from now."
"Why would I do that?"
"B- because you're d-dating her?" Your voice cracks.
"I am not dating Nakamura."
What?
"What do you mean you're not dating her? I thought you liked her. Didn't you go on a date with her yesterday?"
"I do like her. Just not romantically. And no, I went to watch the movie with Tendou. She had already bought the tickets so I bought them from her. I wanted to watch it with you but you went home. "
"But... you left to tell her your feelings for her..."
"I did. I wanted to clarify that I only feel for her as a friend. It was only thanks to you that I was able to tell her in time before I ended up hurting her unintentionally."
"I...see..."
Relief floods your heart. You suddenly feel a hundred pounds lighter. You finally gather the courage to look at him. He is looking right back at you.
"Can I ask you something?" you say, your lower lip trembling.
"Of course."
"Do you have romantic feelings for anyone?"
You instantly regret speaking up as soon as the question leaves your mouth. You know he never lies. And if he doesn't feel the same w-
"Yes. You."
You stare at him blankly.
It's subtle but his expression has changed from completely serious to something a little softer. You can't quite place what it is. Is it concern? nervousness? Adoration?
"R-really? You like me? Romantically?"
"Yes."
"Since when?"
"Ah," he rubs his chin, "I'm not sure..."
You're still having difficulty believing that any of this is real.
"You know," he continues, "After my father, you were the first person who ever wanted to play with me."
He points towards the corner of the park. "I was practicing against that wall that day when you came up to me. Do you remember?"
"Of course I remember. I can never forget that day."
"So many people have come and gone from my life but you have been with me for so long that, I guess somewhere along the way I just assumed you would stay forever. Which, I now realise, I shouldn't have."
He feels the same. He has always felt the same.
"Toshi?"
He turns to you again.
"I love you."
He breaks into a soft smile.
"I love you too."
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Holyshit this was a ride. I'm glad I wrote this and I hope you guys enjoy.
Reblogs appreciated. Please do not steal or repost.
Taglist: @pinkiipeachiikeen @duckymcdoorknob @kakiwrites @ebiharachan @r0binscript I wasn't sure if you guys still want to be tagged for this series, seeing that it has been over two years so let me know if you want me to remove you from the taglist.
Check out THIS POST to know what all characters I have written for in this series.
MASTERLISTS | If you enjoy my work and want to, you can Buy me a Kofi!
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bangaveragewhitewine · 10 months
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crazy-mad for you
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Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, frenemies to lovers)  - Happy Hours series
Chicago, 1991. When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break.
A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...
This is 18+. If you’re not 18 please hit the back button and read something else.
Word count: 16.7 K
Contents/Warnings: Frenemies to lovers. Misogynistic comments; objectification, men being men. Some violence; Eddie gets in a fight. This is an 18+ fic. Smoking, alcohol consumption & drug use. Oral (reader receiving). P in V sex. Excessive use of pet names. Eddie & Reader are mid to late twenties. Reader is written as AFAB and uses female pronouns.
Author’s Note: One minute you’re daydreaming about cherry margaritas and Eddie Munson, and the next you’re writing 36 pages of how you fall in love with him... Just girly things? This is my first attempt at writing Eddie ❤️
I do hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for beta reading / being my hype woman.
Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not repost my work to other sites.
Dividers by me ✌️
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The cold fizz of vodka soda lime prickles your throat with a pleasant burn. 
It’s August and it’s warm, too warm to be crammed in this little dive bar with too many bodies and not enough of them wearing antiperspirant. Way too warm to be working, slinging cheap drinks to the thirsty Friday night crowd crushed into Jackie’s. They can be stingy with their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ but the tips are good at least (thanks to the pulled-low hem of your tank top showing just enough and the hug of denim on your hips). 
Jackie’s was a popular little dive you had visited during your first week in Chicago; a drink with your new roommate and some friends ended with you charming the owner Frank and promising to return for a trial shift the following evening. That was almost a year ago and you had settled in well, stepping up to be a supervisor after six months. 
Now, bone tired and wishing just a little bit that you worked a nine to five, you long for a cool shower and something fried and crispy and maybe cheesy (not particularly in that order). You’re here until close, two a.m last call followed by another hour of cleaning. Then you’re home free. Until tomorrow night anyway.
You tip back the last of your drink and crunch the ice between your teeth. Those last few minutes of your break are dwindling and soon you will haul yourself back, to fill beers and shake-up cocktails, all tits and teeth and aching feet. The music from the bar is loud as you perch on your stool at the back door, but you hear him over it hum-singing something way more Billboard Hot 100 than his usual taste. It makes your lips curve into a smirk, your head leaning back against the cool brick wall. 
“Don't you know, hmmhnn change. Things'll go your way. Hmmm hmm Hold On for -”
“Hey, hotshot.”
The small startle that shakes Eddie’s black-clothed body makes you laugh more than it should, particularly when he attempts to brush it off and play cool. 
“Fuckin’ Christ, I should’ve known you’d be here.” His voice is a groan, head tipped back with hammed-up exasperation. 
“Careful, Ed. They’ll revoke your metalhead licence if they hear you’re singing Wilson Phillips these days.” Your voice is a conspiratorial stage whisper as you cross your legs, stacking one over the other. His usual leather jacket has been swapped out for the hot summer nights, black denim over his usual tight black t-shirt and Dickies. 
He rolls and flicks his lighter to set the cigarette between his lips aflame as he meanders toward you. You can hear the crackle of burning tobacco as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you. “Not shaking your tits for tips, sugar?”
“Aw, been thinking about me while you’re asking cute girls what their star sign is?” you snark, missing the shadow of something that passes over Eddie’s face as your eyes roll. 
You switch your focus to the night sky above as Eddie comes to loom by you. The smoke swirls around him as he offers the cigarette out to you. Before taking it, you reach back and leave your empty glass on the sill behind you and swap a chilled bottle of Budweiser for the smoking cig. 
It’s not an olive branch, just part of your usual ritual; trading acidic barbs, mean words, shared smokes and free drinks whenever you’re scheduled on the same shifts (which is most nights). 
Eddie uses his keys to uncap the bottle and takes a long pull, head tipped back to show off his pale throat. A sliver of silver glints around his neck. The beer is almost half gone when he rips a truly boyish burp. Gross. 
You take a drag, sighing the smoke into the warm air. 
“What’s the sigh about, princess? Did someone not say please when they asked for their Cosmo? Your little apron tied too tight?” Eddie plucks at the wrap of black fabric around your waist. The way it hugs the curve and flair of your hips is certainly not lost on him.
You blow your second drag of smoke directly at him for that one. “Well if you could make sure we’re not packing the place out and breaching health and safety, that would be fuckin’ fantastic.” 
“Simmer down, princess. I’ve got it handled. You just pour your little drinks and wink at the boys and we’ll get through tonight just fine, ‘kay? Leave the crowd control to me.” Eddie tilts his head, dripping condescension like the total asshole he is. He’s way closer than you even realised and you can smell the spicy Fahrenheit behind the smoke. There’s heavy silence as you both glare at each other in the back alley.
The heat and hectic night make your banter especially snarky but Eddie’s the first to break, nudging you with a little smile. You barely catch his gaze dropping to your lips as you take another drag from his cigarette.
“No one giving you any trouble tonight?” he asks. 
“No more than usual. Just absolutely slammed in there. Just got done changing kegs again - they’re drinking us dry and it’s only Friday.” You roll your neck, sighing again when it cracks. 
“Tips good?” He seems almost genuine until his mean little smirk returns,  “Your tits are probably doing the real heavy liftin’ but..” 
“Listen dickh-”
Just as you’re about to cuss him out, there’s a burst of music and crowd noise as one of the other bartenders comes to find you. Michelle looks between you and Eddie before rolling her eyes. “C’mon, you’re really pushin’ that ten-minute break tonight. Sorry to break up whatever this was,” she flaps her hand between you and Eddie (who’s grinning like a wolf as he finishes his beer), “but we have a bachelorette party in line and it’s already crazy in there.” 
“Bachelorettes?” Eddie pushes off the wall and steals the smoke back from your fingers, “Sounds like I should probably get back to work. Ladies.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you almost simmering with something like anger until Michelle scoffs and drags you back inside. 
“The sooner you two just bang and get it out of your system, the better,” Michelle tuts. 
“Ew. Pass.” You scoff and pause at the dingy mirror to fix your hair and pat the sweat away with a rip of trusty blue roll, scooping your breasts up in their cups and adjusting your top before scurrying after Michelle again. If you’re going to be busy, you may as well make it worthwhile and rake in the tips. 
The bar is louder than loud but you’re energised from your vodka soda and little sparring session with Eddie and easily fall back into step with the other bar staff, working together like a well-oiled machine - despite the annoying rusty hinge manning the door.  
Eddie rejoined the staff with his buddy Jeff in tow after they had spent some time on tour with their band. You had barely contained your eye rolls when the loud metalhead had waltzed into one of Frank’s staff meetings (conducted over pizza and pitchers of beers) unannounced and kicked his feet up on a table like he owned the place. Everyone was happy to see him (adding a round of shots to toast his glorious return) but you stayed wary of the flirty metalhead with a silver tongue and big brown Bambi eyes. Yeah, you felt warm all over when he looked you up and down and smiled like a wolf but you knew his type - total flirt, make a girl feel special and then move on to the next one. You didn’t move your entire life to a whole new state to get fucked over again, so you and Eddie settled into trading catty comments while you watch out for each other, allowing the occasional flirtation for balance. Getting under each other’s skin in whatever way seemed most annoying and fun? It worked, made the slow nights bearable, the busy ones more fun. Whatever it was. 
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An hour later the small of your back is nearly soaked with perspiration. The bachelorettes are in full flight, meaning you have been pouring shots and mixing cocktails non-stop. They’re sweet at least, good with their excited ‘thank you!’s for all the fruity drinks you made them - cherry margaritas, blue lagoons and strawberry daiquiris going down an absolute treat. 
You’re shaking another batch of lemon drop shots for a girl's night group when you become hyper-aware of two yuppie finance bros with their gaze firmly fixed on your chest, trading little smirks and comments with each other behind their glasses. You’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of ick. 
It’s nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore sometimes - even when you’re up-the-walls busy and the kegs need to be changed. You refocus and fix your gaze on the glowing EXIT sign, thinking about how many more cocktails you will make before close. Your eye is caught instead by Eddie standing by the door, already looking at you while he’s supposed to be making sure none of the patrons are being too dickish. 
When your eyes meet he tilts his chin in a nod. Eddie smirks as he shimmies his chest at you, to which you mouth a very easily recognisable ‘FUCK YOU’ with a cheeky wink for good measure. 
He shakes his head and you pour the line of shots, earning yourself a nice big tip and a rake of compliments from the drunk girls who make you promise to do a shot with them later. Not a promise you can definitely keep, but their enthusiasm is a balm for your soul.
As they shuffle away to give each other pep talks in the bathroom (gosh, you love them), one of the men who had been eyeing you up steps into their place. You don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over their bodies before his snake-like stare is fixed on you. You have already made plenty on tips so you dial back the smile, giving him a barely polite brow raise in place of a ‘What’ll it be?’
“Two whiskeys, top shelf. Whatever’s expensive in this dump,” he says, speaking to your chest rather than your face. You can smell the sour of his breath across the counter. 
You square your jaw and suppress an eye roll that would surely render you sightless for the rest of your days. “If you don’t like it, the doors over there. Ice?”
He grunts affirmative and you pour the drinks from the barely touched bottle, slamming the glasses down just hard enough to startle him before you give him his total.
“There’s an extra fifty in it if you give me a smile,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar with the crisp note in hand. “You been given’ out a lot more for a lot less all night. One little smile for me?” The man nods to your cleavage, and you refuse to feel self-conscious. 
You can’t summon the effort to even fuck with him, come up with a comeback that his Neanderthal brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. You give him his total again along with your best deadpan glare. “You’re holding up the line. Pay up or am I going to need to cut you off, buddy?”
His face turns sour, acidic anger bubbling up. “You’re a hard little bitch, aren’t ya?”
You smirk at that, plucking the fifty from between his thin fingers to cash up before dropping his change back on the counter. “I am, thank you so much for noticing.” Your voice is nearly saccharine, and you play up the airhead facade for a moment before turning to the customer next to him. “Next please!”
His curses blend into the background as Michelle hip-checks you with a grin and wink, which you return while beginning to pour beers for your next order. If you let every slimeball get to you, you would have given up a long time ago. 
On such a busy night, it was easy to be distracted and forget all about him, but the sharp brown eyes standing by the door saw everything - and he wasn’t so forgiving. 
Almost another hour passes; another keg change, more cocktails to shake, another few visits from your favourite group of girls (who you take a shot of tequila with when they bat their lashes at you - you’re a sucker when it comes to girls who give you compliments and smell like vanilla).  
The crowd thins a bit and you take a turn collecting empties, happy to have an excuse to get out from behind the bar and stretch your legs again, even if it is to balance too many glasses on a too-small tray. The ever-changing obstacle course of the floor on a Friday night is one you’re well practised at, dodging stray elbows and dipping in between patrons to take their spent glasses from the sticky tables, maybe chat a little if it’s not too loud or busy. 
Paradise City is pouring through the speakers as your arms begin to protest the load they are carrying. You know your limit and pick up two more stacked pint glasses, catching Eddie’s eye as he bids goodnight to some regulars. His boot is already halfway out the door after them when you see his face change into something you can’t fully comprehend. Not because you can’t read him - you absolutely can - but your body is careening forward and down toward the floor before you can catch yourself. Your foot had caught on something that hadn’t been there before you met Eddie’s stare, sending you flying forward. 
There’s a thud, crash, smash as you hit the deck alongside every single glass you had expertly balanced. The sound feels huge, ringing in your ears and it’s like the air is sucked out of the room, your body is winded by the unexpected impact. The music cuts and everything hurts - part ego, part ‘that’ll bruise tomorrow’ pain. 
You wish for the sticky floor to just swallow you up as patrons form a little circle around you, crunching broken glass under their feet. A familiar pair of boots stops right by your head. Eddie. He crouches to kneel by you with one hand heavy on your shoulder and floods your already overwhelmed senses with his smoke and leather and spice. 
He says your name, edged with panic until you open your squeezed-shut eyes. You manage to push yourself up with a small wince, hauling yourself with his help to sit on a quickly-vacated low stool. His hands feel huge as they cup your face, you hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were (unfair) or the freckles dusted across his nose. 
“M’okay, Ed. Jus’ need a minute,” your murmur, head ducked to hide your hot cheeks and embarrassment. He stands and puts his arm around you, without thinking you rest your head against his hip but miss his slight intake of breath as your coworkers calm the crowd and start sweeping and gathering the glass, and thankfully turn the music back on. 
Eddie bends a little to speak to you, low and quiet, “Just sit there a sec, okay? ‘Chelle is going to bring you to the staff room.”  
You nod and take a few breaths before taking his hand to stand and be passed safely into Michelle’s care.
“I’ll be back to you in a sec. Don’t go gettin’ in any more trouble, ‘kay?” Eddie’s softness has an edge now, his eyes zeroing in on the man who had given you shit at the bar earlier. The one Eddie had been glaring at ever since; he had seen him stick his foot out to trip you. 
You’re just about to push through to the back hallway when you hear raised voices. Eddie’s voice is louder than the others. You turn and see him squaring up to the slimeball who asked you for a smile earlier, not looking as clever or slick now that Eddie’s up in his face.
“Oh, what the fuck,” Michelle murmurs, pausing behind you to watch. 
“I saw you fuckin’ trip her man. Get the fuck out.” Eddie is incensed. “Been givin’ her shit all night.”
Trip her? Oh. He means you.
“I wouldn’t touch’er. That bitch? Fuck off man, get out of my face.”
There’s a scuffle, another broken glass. More shouting before it really kicks off, fists swinging. Through the horrified crowd, you see knuckles connecting with Eddie’s pretty face. It hurts when you yell out his name, adding to the noise as Jeff rushes in to get the men under control. 
Eddie lands his own punch, rings slamming into the man's jaw, raising a collective ‘ooof’ from the gathered crowd. Despite the blood on his face and hands, Eddie manages to haul him out into the street with Jeff, some beefy regular marching the second man out by the scruff of his neck. 
“What the fuck…” you breathe, realising that you were holding on to Michelle’s arm way too tight. You apologise and she steers you back to the staff room in a daze of pain and confusion (more from the fight than your fall). The room is little more than a box with a wall of beat-up lockers, a sink and counter, a table with cracked Formica and creaky chairs and a squishy old two-seater. It’s cramped but it can be a haven on a busy night. 
As you ease yourself into the corner of the squishy sofa, Michelle pours you a big measure of whiskey for the shock. She kneels in front of you, looking you over for any cuts or scrapes from the glass, and checks your pupils for good measure. You’re just shaken up and feeling the impact of the fall. 
“You dizzy or anything?” she asks, squeezing your knee. “You’re gonna have a big fuckin’ bruise, babe. Remember when I spilled that pitcher, slipped and fell on my ass back before Christmas? Black and blue well into New Year.” She squeezes your knee and encourages you to take a sip of your drink. 
The whiskey burns but you barely feel it. 
“Why did Eddie hit that guy? Did.. did he trip me? The floor was clear, I just… I didn’t see... My foot caught something but..” Your voice shakes from the adrenaline, the shock of the last few minutes. 
She shrugs with a little smile. “I didn’t see either. You’ll need to ask Ed yourself.” A little frown etches between her brows. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t get pissed like that for no reason. He’s a good guy, babe. He looks out for everyone, staff and the drunks. He wouldn’t do that without a good reason. I know you get up each other’s ass but..-” 
As you take another sip, the door swings open. 
Eddie. Eddie with a bloody nose, lip swollen. Eddie with his jacket off, draped over his arm as he flexes his bloody knuckles around a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pint glass of ice in the other hand.
“Hey, you okay?”
His brown eyes are wide, but he’s trying to play cool despite the adrenaline coursing through him too. Eddie feels like his entire body is buzzing, not in a good way like when he plays a gig or when he gets you riled up at him, when you roll your eyes and give him that smirk - bad like when he used to get in fights in school, when a teacher would assume he was the troublemaker and send him to detention or the principal’s office. 
You look at Eddie and he looks right back at you. You can’t look away from each other. It’s like your fall and his punches caused something to shift; you can’t name it but it weighs on you, both of you. 
Michelle squeezes your hand. “I’ll leave you two to patch yourselves up. Be good.” A kiss is dropped to your head and she squeezes Eddie’s arm as she passes him by. 
It’s just you now. You and Eddie, both hurting. 
“Ed…”
He takes a long pull from the bottle of Jack and drops into the seat next to you. 
“Eddie, what the hell was that?” Your voice is quiet and your eyes shine when you look at him. He is a ball of frenetic energy, knee bouncing. You take in the black ink on his arms, see the veins and muscles twitch beneath. His nose and mouth are stained bloody, knuckles and rings too. 
He looks over you, sees how you’re holding yourself carefully after your fall. “He tripped you.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, not something you hear often. He’s loud and he’s brash, hear-him-before-you-see-him kinda guy. 
“Oh.”
“Oh? He’d been giving you shit all night, you could’ve called me. Or Jeff.” He sips the whiskey again and tops up your glass without another word.   
“Yeah, he was a creep. Nothing new there. If I come crying to you and Jeff every time someone gets fresh with me I’d never be behind the bar. People are assholes. I can handle myself, Ed.” 
“And how’d that go for you tonight? You could’ve been really fuckin’ hurt.” His eyes blaze, nostrils flare. 
Your jaw drops, “You’re blaming me?” 
“No. No, fuck,” he growls in frustration. “I know you can handle yourself. That’s why you’re fuckin’ great at your job. If I had just taken him out when he gave you shit at the bar then maybe -” 
“Jesus Christ, Eddie I don’t need you to save me or protect me! Shit happens! This was shit. It happened. You didn’t need to do that.”
“I know. But I wanted to... I want to..”
The air between you is charged and heavy. 
I want to. What does that mean? 
Eddie covers himself quickly. 
“It’s my job. I want to make sure you, everyone here, can do their job without some fuckin’ guy with halitosis making it worse for you, waving his cash in your face like that.” Eddie nudges you gently, “I just want to do somethin’ right. I like working with you, even when you’re a pain in my ass.” 
You scrunch your nose up, “Sap.” It’s easy to both fit back into your normal routine, ignoring the lingering something more that had just become quite clear to both of you. 
“I might like working with you too. Don’t let it get to your head, I’m not sure your ego needs to get any bigger, Munson.”
He smiles, but the throb of his nose makes him wince and swear.
Eddie has made no attempt to put that glass of ice to good use so you ease yourself up to grab two clean bar towels, tipping the ice into one before wrapping it up. You pass it back to him before filling the empty glass with water.
“Thanks, princess.” Eddie flexes his fingers as the ice soothes the burning with cool unpleasantness. 
You ease yourself back into your seat, facing Eddie now. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.” 
He pauses, looking at you from the side of his big brown eyes before turning to face you. “It’s not broken. Just a little blood. You should see the other guy..” Eddie grins when you roll your eyes. 
“My hero,” you deadpan, though you do kind of mean it. 
With the damp corner of the rag, you gently begin to wipe the blood from Eddie’s face, sitting closer than you have ever really been to him. It’s silent between you, the quietest you have ever seen him. He’s too busy watching you, your focused face and how seriously you are taking your task. 
“Very gentle,” he murmurs. 
“Mm, don’t try me, Munson.” You’re quiet again, concentrating on wiping the blood and not looking into his eyes. “Not your first bloody nose after a fight then?”
“M’nope. High school… Mosh pits. Few angry drunks. The usual.” He doesn’t mention his father’s temper, his first bloody nose from a beer-soaked backhand. The whiskey tastes sour in his mouth at the memory.
You lean back a bit, assessing your work before wetting another edge of the towel. Eddie crosses his eyes, looking down his nose. “Am I pretty again?” He gives an extra cheesy grin for emphasis, making you laugh. It makes his heart soar; that sound, how you duck your head. But he sees your pained wince, bringing him right back to earth. 
“Shit, sorry.” “It’s fine. I’ll live.”
You bring your hand back to his face and wipe the last of the blood-stained around his mouth, taking one last slow swipe over his too-plump-to-be-decent lower lip. That was more for you than for him, though the spark of fire in his eyes said otherwise; it was the same spark lit low in your belly since you had first laid eyes on him and started your incessant teasing of each other. 
“All done.” Your voice is just above a whisper, neither of you making any move backwards. 
“Thank you, nurse.” You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. “Hey, can you... wear one of those little white dresses next time?” 
He’s grinning again when you shove at his shoulder to put some space between you, the skin beneath almost burning hot under your hand even through the black cotton of his t-shirt.
“No next time. You hear me? Your groupies will come for me if that pretty face gets all bashed up.” There’s that smirk of yours that sets the embers burning low in his stomach alight. 
He rolls his eyes at you, stealing your move. “You heading home?” he asked, watching you again as you drained the last of the whiskey in your glass. 
“Mm, soon. I’ll check if I can help close and clean, then I’ll go.” You lean your head against the back of the battered sofa and close your eyes briefly. You think you might just sleep here until your stomach growls like something from the seventh circle of hell.
Eddie’s big brown eyes shine with mirth, astounded at the inhuman noise that just came from your curled-up body. 
“Shut up. I’ll make cereal or something when I get home.”
“Nuh-uh. You like fries?”
“Who doesn’t like fries?” you peek one eye open to look at him.
“Let’s get some and I’ll make sure you get home safe.” Eddie checks his knuckles and swipes some of the blood from his rings, acting far more nonchalant than he felt. 
“You don’t need to.” Fries and a shake did sound amazing. Walking home while I felt like a human embodiment bruise? Not so much. 
“I know. But I’m going anyway, and you need to eat. So let me.” 
He pokes your arm as he speaks; you think fleetingly that you might let Eddie Munson do anything if he asked you nicely, spoke to you with that hushed husky voice. You think that you definitely must have hit your head when you start thinking about his eyes…
But he can’t know that, so you settle for an eye roll. “Ugh, fine.” 
With far too much energy, Eddie pushes himself up and empties the ice into the sink along with the red-tinged water. He potters around the little staff room, chucking rags into the bag for the laundry and rinsing glasses. You watch him, curious and a little confused until you realise you are staring and don’t want to be caught. 
You sit up and unlock your tiny locker, taking off and balling up your apron to throw in your bag, spraying deodorant under your arms before shutting and locking it again. Eddie’s got his jacket back on and you carry your own too-big denim jacket over your arm. You give him a nod, ready to go, and head out to the bar to check with Michelle that it’s okay for you to call it a night 
The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers who were almost ready to call it a night. Jeff has the door under control and the bar staff are already cleaning tables and glasses. You promise Michelle you will call her tomorrow, that you will stay in bed if you hurt too much, and accept her gentle hug after she passes you your tips for the night. 
“Get home safe. No more getting into trouble,” she says, eyeing you and Eddie together with interest (and some smugness). 
“No promises. See ya tomorrow ‘Chelle,” Eddie says with a wink before you both head out toward the black ‘86 Dodge Daytona parked a little down the street. It’s still humid and warm outside and you walk in silence until you see him unlock the nice car, opening the door for you. Your stomach flip-flops when he gives you a slight bow. He’s only being nice because you made an ass of yourself at work, you tell yourself. 
“Jesus, being a rockstar really pays off,” you tease and throw your bag into the passenger footwell before easing yourself in. “Or did you steal this?” 
You knew he had worked in a garage before moving to the city, and you force the thought of Eddie in a grease-marked tank top out of your head.
“Nah, my days of grand theft auto are long behind me.” Eddie winks and closes the door before rounding the shiny bonnet to sit in the driver’s seat. His keys jangle before he turns the ignition. 
The radio blares Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast so loud that you just about hear Eddie’s swearing over it until he gets the volume down. “Oops.”
“Dude, mind your fuckin’ ears. You’ll be deaf by thirty.” Your own ears are ringing after the onslaught of noise. 
“Huh?” He holds his hand up to his ear and smirks stupidly before revving the engine. 
You sink back into the low seat and shake your head; your own smile reflects at you in the window as he peels away from the curb. “You better not murder me, Munson. I’ll haunt the fuck out of you if you do.” 
“Once again babe, kidnap and human sacrifice are also long behind me.” 
He drives a little fast, but you don’t hate how you feel sitting in the passenger side of his car. He has a faded Black Ice Little Tree hanging from the rearview mirror alongside a skull keychain that cackles and glows red when you push a button on the back. The cramped back seat camouflages balled-up band shirts, a pair of beat-up Chucks, amp leads and guitar strings - a random accumulation that gives you a glimpse of who Eddie is outside of work. It’s easy for your mind to wander; Eddie, a back seat, what kind of girls he usually brings for a ride in his baby. Instead, you wonder about all you don’t know about the guy you spend a good part of your week with, the man currently driving you to get diner food at 2 a.m. after he punched a guy who was mean to you.
“Feelin’ okay?” he checks, flexing his knuckles on the steering wheel as he takes a left.
“Yeah.” You roll your head to look over at him. “Tell me something.”
Eddie glances across at you, brow raised under his bangs. “What?”
“Something, anything. A secret, a story. You always have something to say, so tell me something.” 
“Mmm. You gonna laugh at me?”
“Probably.”
“Shit okay. Um... Okay. I almost got kicked out of my high school graduation. My friends were disruptively loud, like obnoxious motherfuckers - love them to death. And I flipped the Principal off instead of shaking his sweaty little hand.”
It does make you laugh, just a little - more of a really amused smile. “That’s fuckin’ cool, Munson. Were they your little Dungeons and Dorks friends?”
“Rude.” He pauses. “Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons.”
“Nerd. You’re from where, like Ballsack, Indiana?”
“Close. Hawkins - just north of Ballsack actually.”
“Can’t say I know it. Home of the Metalheads or..?”
“No. Definitely not. S’why I left.”
Your lower lip juts out just a little at the loaded confession.
“Your turn. One secret, please. Dirtier the better.”
“Perv.”
“Witch.”
You smirk, leaning your head back. “Been called worse tonight.” 
You don’t see Eddie’s knuckles twitch while you think of a secret. Hearing that guy call you a bitch reminded him of all the times he had heard his poor mother called the same by the deadbeat he called Dad. 
“Okay, you’re going to piss your pants at me. I used to work at this kinda fancy cocktail place before I moved here,” you say. “Totally lied about my experience before starting. Think… wannabe jazz lounge for yuppies. The menu was like this leather folder thing. Anyway, my first week and this like.. rich lookin’ guy comes in and asks for a Roman Coke.”
You see Eddie glance at you as he indicates and swerves the car smoothly to park opposite a little diner not far from where you live. 
“I’m a few days in, super eager to get it all right. I’m like, ‘Yes, of course, coming right up’ and can I remember what the hell is in a Roman Coke? Fuck no. It’s not on the menu so I think ‘Hey this guy must know better than dumb little me’. I’m flipping through the recipe cards, everyone else is busy and kinda mean anyway so I stare at the liquors for like two minutes before I go back and ask him ‘What’s in that again?’.” 
Eddie’s biting his lip. He knows where this is going. He sees how you light up when you tell your story, begs the butterflies to calm their swooping and swirling behind his ribs as you deliver the punchline. 
“Rum. And Coke.”
His head falls forward, rests on the top of the steering wheel. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.
“Eddie. He was the owner.” 
He cackles. That throaty yell of a laugh you hear ringing through the bar or from the staff room when he’s goofing around instead of working. 
“Oh no..” He’s wiping tears from his eyes as you cringe in his passenger seat. “Oh princess, that’s fuckin’ terrible.” 
You sit together in his parked car until you settle, faces hurting from smiling until your stomach growls again.
“Jesus, the woman needs fries - stat.”
“And a Coke?”
“And a Coke.” 
Eddie is out of the car and opening your door before you even have your seatbelt off. He offers you his hand to help you out of the car, careful of your sore body after the fall. 
“Feeling okay?” he asks, still holding your hand. 
“A bit achy. I’ll have a hot shower and take something before bed.” You lift his hand to check his knuckles. “Sore?” 
“I’ve had worse.”
He squeezes your hand gently before you let go and cross the street to the hole-in-the-wall place glowing with neon Coca-Cola signs. 
“You get in a lot of fights then?” you ask as he holds the door. 
“Not anymore.” Eddie shrugs and leads you to a little table, nodding politely to the waitress filling coffees at the counter. She says hi to him by name and you think about Eddie coming in here alone, or not, after his shifts.
The backs of your thighs catch on the red vinyl and you know you will need to peel yourself up later.
Eddie sits opposite you, looking immediately at home as he relaxes back in the booth. In the bright diner lights you can see where his lip is still swollen and sore, the lingering specs of blood in his nostril despite your careful clean-up.
The waitress, an older woman with thinly drawn brows, comes over and pinches Eddie’s cheek with motherly affection. “Hi hon, you two know what you’re havin’?”
Eddie scrunches his nose like a bunny. “Hi, Marie. Usual for me, and a big basket of fries and a Coke?” He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod. “Please and thank you.”
She eyes you up with a little smile as she writes the order. “I was wonderin’ when Eddie was going to bring a nice girl for me to meet. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”
By the time you both open your mouths to set Marie straight, she’s already gone. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, but he shrugs it off. “Hate to have to break her heart and tell her you’re not a nice girl.”
You gasp in mock offence and put your hand to your heart. “I am so nice.” You can’t even keep a straight face as you say it. “Slandering my good name, Munson. I thought you were all about protecting my honour.”
Your close-to-the-bone teasing keeps the rosy tint on his cheeks. 
“I never told you, your face when you fell? Fuckin’ hilarious. Should’ve taken a picture to put behind the bar.”
The jab puts you even again, not that either of you keeps score but it’s all about balance. Can’t be too nice, don’t want to be too mean. 
You rest your head against the back of the booth and close your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from a busy and unpredictable night wash over you. 
Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you for a moment; even under the too-bright lights of the diner, he thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 
“Tell me something else,” you say before opening your eyes. When you do, you catch a fleeting dreamy look on Eddie’s face and lean forward to rest your chin on your hand as Marie drops over your drinks and food; fries for you, a burger with oozing American cheese and crisp bacon for Eddie. 
“So nosy,” he teases, shoving a straw into his fizzing Coca-Cola. 
You shrug, feeling a burn in your stomach; maybe you were overstepping. “You don’t have to. You can sit and stare at me if you prefer,” You take a long sip through your own gently placed straw and raise your brows at him. 
He can’t and won’t argue with that one and stirs the ice as he thinks, takes a sip. 
“One of the first gigs I played out of our hometown, we had like thirty people instead of the usual five drunks in the Hideout. I tried to crowd surf, thinkin’ I was hot shit. Broke my wrist.” 
Your eyes blow wide as you eat the best fry of your life - it’s perfectly crisp and fluffy, salted just right - but the punchline of Eddie’s latest confession had you wanting to know more.
“You want half?” Eddie asks, nodding to his burger. 
“No, I'm good, thanks. Hold on, reverse to the breaking your wrist after thinking you were Iggy fucking Pop.” 
He’s already a bite in but holds his wrist up before he flips you off. “See? Good as new,” he says, pausing his chew. 
The fries are too good to waste so you push down the urge to throw one at him. 
“I was eighteen. Stupid kid. S’the reason I didn’t graduate that year.” He sips his Coke again and watches your reaction from beneath his lashes. 
“That’s shitty.” You feel the frown deepen between your brows, angry on his behalf about something he was long over. “No wonder you flipped the principal off.” 
You share your fries with Eddie and eat until your stomach feels warm and full. You share another secret too, tell him about the time you got so scared in a haunted house that you punched some guy dressed as a zombie and got kicked out. He almost choked on a fry at that and laughed so loud that Marie looked over and shook her head fondly at her favourite customer. 
It’s easy to drop the charade that you and Eddie don’t get along. A diner at fuck o’clock in the morning exists a world away from the little bar that pays your rent and bills. When you see him get excited telling you a story, letting you see Eddie beyond the bar, you know you got him wrong - he’s funny as fuck, sweet too. 
Midway through a story about how his friend Robin had dragged him to do (very) drunk karaoke last week, Eddie catches you staring and scrunches his face a little. “Am I rambling? Fuck, sorry.”
“No. Well, a little, but I like it.” You sip the dregs of your refilled Coke and smile a little. 
He smiles back, ducking his head just a little and he catches the time on his watch. His Bambi brown eyes blow wide when he realises. “Jesus, I oughta get you home. The sun will be up soon.” 
You didn’t realise either, but you also don’t care. You’re still tired, still aching, but you feel lighter than you have in months, like a long-dead spark might just be coming back. The warm glow is dampened just a bit when Eddie gulps down the last of his drink. 
He pulls his jacket back on and insists that he helps you put yours on when you wince. He settles the bill, kisses the back of Marie’s hand and promises to come see her soon. Neither of you let her down when she says she hopes to see you again sometime. 
It’s cooler outside now, but the warmth in Eddie’s car and his gentle singing along to the radio rocks you into a light doze as he drives the few blocks to the address you gave him. It kills him to wake you once he’s parked outside. 
The small frown lines on your forehead tell him you’re still in some pain after the tumble you took. The ache in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the twisting anger in his gut when he saw that prick’s foot shove out into your path and you watched as you fell in slow motion.
He gives it a minute, tries not to stare like a creep, before reaching over to shake your knee gently. 
“Hey.” He says your name so softly, so gently, and taps his fingers against your knee. 
You startle slightly and realise where you are. “Sorry, Thanks for the ride, Eddie,” you say quietly. “And the fries. And everything.” 
He smiles again, a gentle curve upward of his lips as his fingers rest on your knee. “Any time. We’re like two or three blocks from each other.” 
Neither of you wants to burst the already waning bubble you have been in since you left the bar. For a moment, you just look at each other until the air becomes too thick, too heady to breathe easy. You’re not entirely convinced that you didn’t hit your head, that this whole night hasn’t been just some dream of yours. The heat of his hand on your leg tells you it’s real. This is something real. 
And still, you make the first move. Pop the bubble. Too much. Too scary. 
Your seatbelt clicks open and you grab your bag as Eddie does the same, coming to open your door and offering you a hand to get out. 
Neither of you let go of the other’s hand, eking out the last of whatever this was before you have to go your separate ways and think about what it could turn into if you only had the bravery. You’re both standing so close and you watch the shadow of his stupid-long lashes under the street light. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever. At work.” You want to slap yourself for stuttering. 
“Only if you feel up to it. Don’t be a hero, princess.”
“That’s your job, Ed. I’ll see you at work. Thank you, again..”
You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.
You walk to your door and Eddie rounds the car again to the driver's side. He raises a hand to salute you as you turn to give him one little wave before closing the door. 
“Fuck,” you sigh with your back pressed to the wood of the door.  “Fuck.” Eddie growls as his head drops against the roof of the car. 
You both take a minute. Need a minute before you can move on. 
You drag yourself up the stairs and let yourself in, quiet enough to not wake your flatmate. Eddie waits to see your light come on before starting the car and driving the two blocks to his place. 
After popping some painkillers you crawl into bed. Even your racing mind and pounding heart can’t keep you from falling into the deepest sleep you have had in months. Your dreams echo with Eddie’s happy throaty laugh, the gasp from the bar when he threw the first punch, the sound you made when you saw a fist crash into his pretty face.
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You sleep late through the Saturday morning city sounds as they turn to afternoon and float through your cracked open window. You sleep until your flatmate knocks to check you made it home and are still breathing, then doze off again while she makes brunch for you both. 
Over eggs and bacon, toast and fresh fruit, coffee and Advil, you tell her everything from last night and show her your bruises. She runs to CVS to get arnica cream and more painkillers while you strip your bed, shower and do laundry, keep busy to keep the recurring thoughts of Eddie from your head. 
While you are folding clean clothes from earlier in the week back into your drawers, you come across a guitar pick Eddie had left on the bar one time before your shift started; once lost from his pocket, found again amongst the collection of shirts and shorts and jeans you wore to work. You had meant to give it back, then he had called you a brat for something stupid. Maybe he had burped too loud in your direction, and so you didn’t bother. As you run your thumb over the smooth curve of it, you think maybe he’s been at the back of your mind for a longer time than you even realised.
You’re sore all over but you call Michelle and let her know you will be in for your shift. You don’t tell her that you stayed out extra late with Eddie talking about stupid shit and laughing until your face hurt - you're not sure you could handle her sweet smugness over the phone. 
After a long bath to soak your muscles and a huge plate of pasta for dinner, you get ready for work. Denim shorts, a tight black t-shirt tucked in, and your trusty Dr Martens (despite the heat). You add some jewellery, spritz your perfume, and fix your hair up off the back of your neck to keep cool. You swipe some Raisin Rage on your lips before wiping it off in favour of a slick of cherry flavour Chapstick. At the last minute, the lipstick makes its way into your bag - just in case. 
It’s just after six when you step back into Jackie’s to help cut wedges of lime and lemon for drinks, make sure the barrels and kegs are hooked up properly, the mixers ready to go. It’s almost time to open up and you haven’t seen (or heard) Eddie yet. You chase your disappointment with a quick smoke break with one of the summer hires before Frank pulls you aside, making sure you’re okay after last night (and that you’re not thinking of suing the bar or anything).
“My wages wouldn’t cover a lawyer, Frank. Even with the tips,” you smirk before stepping from his office out into the hall, running straight into black denim and spicy cologne. 
“Woah, easy there.” Eddie’s hands steady you, two wide palms on your arms that squeeze gently when you look up into his smiling face. “You’re a fuckin’ liability, honey.”
Your cheeks feel hot but you shove his chest gently. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. It was so peaceful and quiet, what a shame.” 
Back to normal. Except Eddie’s hands are still on your arms, his thumb circling on the round of your shoulder. “Feelin’ okay?” he checks, speaking quietly just for you. 
You nod and lift your hand, taking his chin between your finger and thumb, feeling brave alongside the little intake of breath Eddie just about hides. “No bruises. Good.” 
There’s a beat where you and Eddie aren’t quite sure what you mean, what to say next. You’re glad that Frank calls for Eddie from his office, wanting to have the same chat with him as he had with you. It gives you both a good excuse to let go of each other, figure out what the fuck that was before your shift starts.
He squeezes your shoulders and gives you a little smile before letting you go. “Be good. Don’t get in trouble.” 
“I’ll try, hot shot,” you say quietly, giving him a wink before going to join Michelle and the other bartenders for a quick pre-open meeting - but not before you dip into your locker to pat a layer of lipstick on. 
The crowd begins to trickle in, slow and steady until it’s packed full and the music blares just loud enough. They’re a fun crowd tonight, and everyone is in good spirits now that it’s not quite so oppressively hot outside. You don’t have time to think about much else in between chatting to customers and mixing drinks; shaking cocktails is a bit more laborious when your body aches but you don’t complain. 
It’s almost eleven before you take your break. You take another Advil before slipping past the Staff Only door. The air is tinged with smoke as Eddie leans against the brick, waiting. 
His face lights up when he sees you and the two glasses you’re carrying. “Double fisting?” he asks, taking another drag. 
“One for you, one for me. Mines the water.” You extend out the dark fizzing highball glass to him, which he eyes suspiciously. He passes you the nearly burnt-out smoke as a trade-off. 
“What’s this?” he asks, “The witch's potion? I knew you’d take me out by poisoning me.”
You prop yourself on your stool and sip your ice water, smirking into your glass. “It’s a Roman Coke.” 
Eddie’s laugh rings through the alley and he holds up the glass. “You fuckin’... Wow. What an honour.” His free hand covers his heart, silver rings glinting in the light. It would be easy to think he’s being condescending or playing around, it’s what you do. But Eddie is genuinely a little bit touched and a whole lot smitten. He can feel his heart beating faster under his palm. 
You pass him a paper-wrapped straw before watching as he takes a curious sip of your special mix. You take a drag of his cigarette and watch his eyes blow wide as he computes the flavours. 
“D’you hate it?” you ask carefully.
“What is in this? It’s insane! I really like it,” Eddie says, grinning. 
His smile makes your tummy flutter. 
“It’s rum - but like, a coffee-infused rum - and Coca-Cola, with Sambuca,” you list off the ingredients that had been turning over in your head all evening. 
Eddie nods as he takes another sip, letting the flavours wash over his tongue. “Mm, I like it. You’re a real little alchemist, huh? Get it on the menu.”
You laugh and pass him back his smoke. “Nah. That’s an Eddie special. Just to say thanks..” 
Eddie looks at you, watching your teeth sink into your stained-dark lip as you wait for him to respond. He’s a shade softer than the usual tough-but-fun guy who works the door, softer than when you’re usually tearing strips off of each other for fun on your breaks. 
“Careful,” he says, voice quiet. He looks almost bashful. 
You frown a little. Your gut twists uncomfortably. Had you read it all wrong? 
“I don’t know what to do with myself when pretty girls are sweet to me,” he says, sipping his drink pointedly. 
The knot in your stomach swoops. He thinks you’re pretty. Eddie thinks you’re pretty. Eddie who flirts with dolled-up girls all night while he’s checking IDs.
You look back at him, see how the light and shadows play on the slope of his nose and those long lashes. “You have plenty of practice, Ed,” you say, so quiet. “You always know what to say.”
He smiles just a little and shakes his head. “Not with you. S’why I say stupid shit. Anyway, no one’s as pretty or sweet as you,” he says. “Even when you’re mean. Especially when you’re mean - so fuckin’ pretty then.”
Your laugh is almost involuntary, cheeks feeling warm. “That was smooth, Eddie,” you say, teasing him again; that was comfortable, less scary. 
“It was? Oh good. I’m fighting for my life here.” He laughs and leans against the wall beside you. 
He’s taller than you as you sit on your stool, tuning your body sideways to look up at him. “Putting the moves on me, Munson?” 
“Is it working?” Eddie raises his brows, pushing them up under his choppy fringe. There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, hopeful and yet apprehensive. 
“Yeah, I think it might be,” you whisper, biting your lip again. He wants to bite it for you, soothe the pinch of his sharp teeth with his silver tongue. 
You reach a hand out, sliding your fingertips up over the back of his hand and wrist until they slip under the cuff of his sleeve. You bring his hand down onto your thigh, warm and bare in the summer evening heat. 
You’re feeling brave. Eddie is too. 
He leaves his drink on the sill next to your water and steps closer, his hand huge on your legs as he feels the smoothness of your skin and the frayed hem of your denim shorts. Eddie crowds closer, smelling the sweetness of your perfume as his leg slots between your knees. His eyes flick from looking at your lips to searching your gaze for any hesitation or hint that you’re just fucking with him. He finds none and feels braver than ever. 
He dips down, brushing his nose against your cheek and hears your intake of breath, that little gasp he wants to swallow and consume. His lips press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, begging sweetly without a word. 
You turn your head just a fraction to close the minute gap, bringing your lips together. With your hand on his neck, you feel his pulse race in time with your own beneath the stroke of your thumb, sliding down the strong tendon to where it meets his shoulder. 
Eddie’s lips press and slot with yours, plush and gentle and tasting sweet like Coca-Cola. He kisses you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips on his. You pull him as close as you can, your warm breaths mingling as he sneaks a look to make sure you’re real. 
He is gentle behind the bawdy jokes and leather and silver rings. He’s softer than anyone can see. But you can feel that sweet softness in the way he cups your face before kissing you again. Eddie strokes his tongue against your lower lip to ask for permission he doesn’t need. It makes you shiver as that smooth-talking tongue slides with yours, making you gasp. 
Before it can build pressure and turn any steamier, he slows it back down and kisses you in slow pecks again before leaning his forehead against yours. He can’t stop himself from smiling and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not elated when he feels your shy smile too. 
Behind that smile, you’re aching for more. You want to run your fingers up through his curls and tug, be kissed breathless by him. You want a hundred more soft kisses, feel his smile on your mouth. You want to feel him everywhere. 
“You okay?” he whispers, and can’t resist pushing another kiss against your cheek before moving back to look at you again. 
“More than okay.” You bring your thumb to swipe the lipstick transferred over from your lips to his. You want to see every shade you own smeared around his mouth. 
Eddie kisses your thumb, before pretending to nip it to make you laugh. “Are you going to be able to go back to the bar?” 
You shake your head, smiling before sighing over-dramatically and fixing a pout on your face. It drives him mad in the best way. “Mm, maybe give me one more for luck?” you whisper. 
He puts you out of your misery with one more long lingering kiss. “I’m not done kissing you. At all.” Another peck, because he cannot simply stop himself. “I’ll wait for you after work.” 
Your smile is too big to hide, rendered speechless by his confession. So you nod, giving his lower lip one last swipe to remove the evidence before patting his cheek. 
Eddie reluctantly backs off for his own good. He had thought about pressing you against the bricks and kissing you stupid too many times to be decent. He still will - it’s at the top of his bucket list - but just not now.
He grabs his drink, downs it, and gives you a wink. “Don’t go sharing that recipe, okay? That’s for me only, sugar.” 
“Cross my heart,” you tease, sitting on your hands so you don’t drag him back against you. You think he might just be okay with it if you did. 
“Later…” As if he can read your mind, he backs away with absolute mischief in his eyes. 
“Later.” You wiggle your fingers at him and laugh when he almost walks ass-first into the stacked crates of empty bottles. He swears at them and flips them off before throwing one last wink your way. 
Once you’re sure Eddie has turned the corner of the building you cover your face with your hands and smile into them, murmuring ‘What the fuck, what the fuck’ as your cheeks heat up your palms. 
When you have just about gathered yourself, you head back inside and fix your smudged lipstick. You tap Michelle’s hip when you get back, signalling for her to go take her break. 
She looks you over, suspicious of where exactly that coy little smile came from. As she throws one last look over her shoulder, she sees Eddie at the open door, looking just as dreamy and pleased with himself.  
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The rest of your shift passes without incident, which is a miracle because all you have been thinking of is Eddie Eddie Eddie. Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hands. Eddie’s strong inked arms and his sturdy thighs. His lips (again). 
You caught each other’s eye a few times during the night, and it made you feel hot all over. Especially when he was being a total gentleman to some pretty girls, telling them to get home safe. You had felt his dark–chocolate stare on you as you laughed with customers, and shook up cocktails while he watched the strength of your arms and the subtle bounce of your breasts. Knowing Eddie was watching, thinking about how he might kiss you again later, made you slick with desire and excitement. 
You ring the bell for last call at 2 a.m. as your feet burn, and arms ache. There’s a flurry of orders while Jeff and Eddie close the doors and stand inside shooting the shit together, bidding customers good night as they leave in pairs and groups. By three it’s kicking out time and the few reluctant stragglers take recommendations for pizza joints and all-night diners to soak up the alcohol. While the bouncers do one last sweep of the place, you work through your checklist with a singular motivator; kissing Eddie Munson. 
With anticipation buzzing in your chest, you wipe spills behind the bar, refrigerate the mixers and hand-wash the muddlers and stirrers from the cocktails. The younger guys fill the dishwasher with glasses and barware. You thank your stars that it’s not your night on bathroom duty, refilling the straws instead and making a note for Frank of what’s running low before he does his full inventory and stocktake. It’s a well-oiled machine and your duties are finished in record time... 
Eddie made himself useful, staying out of your way (but watching closely, in absolute awe of you) in favour of picking up a broom and keeping the music going to keep morale up. He leans on the clean bar, chin on his hand as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, tilting his head toward the back door. 
You nod, “Gimme two.” You restrain yourself from running to your locker (a quick walk is sufficient and unsuspicious). You fix your hair, blot your shiny face and spray deodorant and perfume again before opting for cherry flavour Chapstick. Extra lipstick this late? Far too eager. 
After a quick round of goodbyes, you notice Eddie and Michelle have both already gone and you rush around to meet him by the door. One taste and you are hooked, needing another kiss like your next breath. When you can’t see him, it’s like your lungs shrink. There’s no lingering scent of his cologne or swirling smoke, no glowing cherry or loud laugh in the back alley… 
Breathe. In, out. Calm the anxious flutters. Is he already at his car? 
Just as you’re about to round the building, the back door opens and an almost frantic-eyed Eddie nearly catches you with the door... “Hi,” he breathes. Relief. A sigh you both share before the smile, the relief. 
“Shit, did I get you?” He puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezes when you shake your head. His hands skate down your arms to squeeze your hands. “Sorry, got distracted inside. Can I... Can I drive you home?” 
Your nod is far too eager and you squeeze back, your rings tapping against Eddie’s. You drop each other’s hands but stay close to each other. This is new and unnamed and you don’t want the work crowd throwing questions at you before you have even figured it out yourself. 
Your hands and arms bump as you round the building together and for once neither of you know what to say. When you look up, Eddie is already sneaking a glance at you; he smiles when you catch him and you both dissolve into laughter. 
“What the fuck, you’re literally never this quiet,” you tease, elbowing him gently. “Say something.” 
Eddie takes your hand again, swinging his arm with yours. “You looked hot tonight. Like, hotter than usual.” Eddie licks his lower lip and it makes your stomach flip. 
“You think so? It must be the drink I made you. Pretty strong…” 
“Maybe. Maybe it’s ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you kiss.” He’s so smooth and it makes you feel warm all over. 
Close to his car now, you slow your stroll and lean against the passenger side. “Yeah? Maybe you should kiss me some more then, seeing as you can’t stop thinking about it.” 
“Oh, I’m gonna.” He grins and crowds you against the shiny black metal, bracing one hand on the roof as the other loops around your middle to press your body close. 
It’s like stars bursting behind your eyes when you feel Eddie’s lips on yours again. This kiss is eager and almost needy after hours of trying and failing to not eye-fuck each other. The hand lying low on your back slips lower and Eddie uses the leverage to step his thigh between yours with a delicious press of pressure. When you gasp he takes the opportunity to dominate the kiss a little more, licks his tongue against yours in a dirty slide.
You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, all tongue and pulling soft gasps from each other. It has been even longer since you have been heckled while you’re kissing someone; Michelle breaks that streak as she wolf-whistles at you from across the street as she walks to her own car. 
“Get a room!” You don’t see her grin and salute as you laugh into Eddie’s chest, hugging your arms around him beneath his jacket. He kisses your forehead and holds you after flipping Michelle off with a rosy-cheeked smirk.
“She made me late, by the way. Gave me the talk in the office.” 
You rest your chin on his chest, pulling your eyebrows together. “The birds and the bees? Where do babies come from?” You laugh when he pokes your ribs and holds your squirming body closer still.
“Ha ha, jokes on you. That’s next week.” 
You muffle your laugh against his black t-shirt. 
“No, just that I better treat you good and not fuck around. Don’t want work to be awkward, blah blah.” Eddie squeezes your hips. “She also said ‘It’s about damn time’.”
You nod slowly, remembering her quips over the last few months about how you two should just shut up and get over yourselves, bang it out or something. It seemed like it was obvious to everyone but you and Eddie just what was going on behind your little frenemy routine. 
“Well then…” you say quietly. 
“Well then indeed…” Eddie echoes. 
There’s a lot for you to figure out. You can’t just kiss your co-worker and expect everything to stay the same, but inside you think that maybe you don’t want that and Eddie doesn’t either. That’s something you both need to figure out, but right now you just might die if you don’t kiss him again soon. 
“Eddie?” 
“Yeah?”
“Can I come to your place?” you ask quietly. 
Eddie nods, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to? We don’t have to...”
You rock up on your toes to kiss him again. “I want to. Let’s just... See where it goes?”
A little breathless, Eddie nods and roots for his car keys to unlock the door. He pecks your lips again before you both get into the car. This time he keeps his hand on your knee while he drives through the dark streets, only moving it to change gears. You keep it there, smoothing over the rings he wears with your fingers. 
You recognise Eddie’s street - there’s the bagel place you go to, the camera store where you get film developed. You can’t believe he’s been this near all along. 
He swings the car into a little parking garage under the building and takes the spot reserved for apartment 8. You twist in your seat to face him and see he looks a little lost in thought. “I can go home if you prefer?” you say. 
“No no. Please, don’t. I’m just.. thinkin’ about how messy my room might be.” He twists one of his rings and you cover his hand again to stop the anxious little movement you recognised from your own fidgeting.
“I don’t mind. Being nocturnal can be pretty shitty for keeping your place clean,” you say. 
Eddie nods, shoulders deflating now that he’s less worried you’re going to think he’s a total animal.
You pull his hand back over to your lap, fingers intertwined. “Anyway, I’m not here to snoop at your stuff, Eddie.” You shrug a little, hiding your smile as he thumps his head against the seat. 
“You’re going to be the death of me, I know it.” 
“You should be so lucky.” 
Your lips meet again halfway across the centre console, smiling mouths and ringed fingers grasping at each other, wherever you can reach. A rogue elbow hits the horn, making both of you jump - Eddie yelps - then dissolve into a fit of giggles which Eddie gladly smothers with one more kiss. 
“Lemme get your door, princess,” he says, lips brushing your chin and cheek one more time before freeing you from his hold to hop out and round the bonnet. You could get used to this… 
There are more kisses in the small shaky elevator, crowded to the mirrored wall as Eddie’s lips get acquainted with your jaw and neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you moan his name quietly, tug him closer by his belt loops. 
You drive him crazy in the best way, he makes you feel wanted - perhaps craved is more apt - as his hands run over the flare of your hips and dip to your behind.
The elevator stops, dings, and you drag Eddie’s mouth to your own again to taste his tongue before he takes your hand and does his best not to drag you to the door marked with a brassy 8. 
“Shit,” he mutters, fighting with his keys to find the right one as you slip a hand up the side of his t-shirt, feeling the trail of hair below his navel to scratch through. 
“You’re a demon. An actual devil woman,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the door as he lets you distract him for a second. Before you can tease him anymore, Eddie turns and takes your face gently in one hand. “You actually want to come in or am I going to need to put you over my shoulder and bring you back to the car?” 
His eyes are burning with want, lips pink and puffy from your kisses. He watches your pupils blow wide and sees the gulp in your throat. 
“You gonna behave?” 
All you can do is nod, brain static with want, accept a kiss on the pout he’s placed on your lips, and try not to swoon or combust on the spot while he wins his battle with lock and key. 
Eddie flicks the light on inside and throws his keys in a saucer sitting on a little table inside the door. There’s a short hallway with a fairly full junk closet before you step into the apartment proper. You told him you weren’t here to snoop, but the urge to look around and soak in all you can about Eddie Munson is too good to pass. 
A typical boy's apartment really - an open plan kitchen/living room with a second-hand sofa and mismatched chair, a coffee table cluttered with an empty mug and a full ashtray, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a forgotten Coke can. There are some amps stacked in a corner, framed posters yet to be hung as they prop against the wall. It’s kind of exactly what you expected. 
Eddie twists a piece of hair around his finger, watching you look around. “Can I get you a water…?” he suggests, “Hungry?” 
“Mind if I use your phone? I want to leave a message on my voicemail so my flatmate doesn’t think I died or got in another bar fight.” Sense prevails over your desire to get your fingers back under his shirt, find out what other ink he has hidden beneath. 
“Sure, good idea.” Eddie points to the phone on the wall by the little breakfast bar. You notice a Garfield mug which makes you smile a little. “Back in a sec.”
While you’re leaving a message on your answer phone, Eddie stuffs dirty and clean laundry into some approximation of where they should be. He fixes the blanket and duvet on his bed - thankfully freshly changed - and strums his Sweetheart before hearing you hang up the phone. He takes a peek in the mirror after removing his jacket, shakes out his curls and gives his arms a quick flex before telling himself he’s an idiot - being friends with Steve Harrington has definitely altered his brain chemistry in some sort of way. 
Meanwhile, you have already given your own armpit a sniff and fixed your hair in the reflection of Eddie’s microwave before you hear his boots on the wood floor again. 
“Did you get prettier while I was..?” he looks between you and his left-ajar door glowing with the bedside lamp he had left on. 
You roll your eyes at him before following him to sit on the sofa, leaving your bag and jacket on the well-worn cushion of the armchair next to it. He flicks some music on low and relaxes back into the cushions, watching you decide where to put yourself. 
“Any time you want to go, just say. I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly. You can feel the warmth of his arm where it stretches across the back of the sofa.
Scooting closer, you turn your body to face him a little more. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ed. Promise.”
He nods and welcomes you back under his arm, pressing his lips to your head while one big hand squeezes the top of your arm. “You smoke?” he asks, nodding to a little box like the lockbox you have for petty cash at work. When he flicks it open, you see some pre-rolled joints, papers and a bag of green. 
“Oh shit, you’ve been holding out on me, Munson,” you tease, poking his ribs before he sits back next to you with a joint and his Bic lighter. 
Eddie flashes his brows upward as he sticks it between his lips to light up. “Something something… Not mixing business and pleasure?” he says, muffled by the joint. He takes a hit before offering it to you, fingers brushing as you raise your brows in turn. 
“Oh yeah? I think we’re doing plenty of that tonight.” You take a drag with a smiling mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken and flash mischief again. 
“Yeah, think so. Been thinking about it a lot longer than I’ll ever admit though,” he says, watching how your breath catches and you cough a little. He tuts playfully, “Am I going to need to show you how, or are you pretending so I’ll shotgun you?” 
You fan your hand in front of your face to give yourself some air before flipping him off. “Be nice, s’been a while.” You tap your fingers against his knee. “Wait, go back. How long have you been pining over me?” You’re more careful when you take your next hit, raising your brows expectantly at Eddie.
Eddie rolls his eyes as he takes the joint back; after another hit, he taps the ash off the end. “Not your business.”
“Absolutely my business. Go on. Was it when I wore that little dress to the Christmas party? Oh no, I bet it was when I spilt that pitcher of beer on my stupid white shirt… Fuck, I forgot that.” 
Eddie remembers both vividly (especially the little dress) but no, it was way before either of those incidents. “You going to keep annoying me ‘til I tell you?” 
“Yep.” You grin and watch him take a long slow hit. His lips wrap around the end and his cheeks hollow, showing off those sharp cheekbones. “Tell me,” you sing. 
He holds the smoke in before sighing it out with his head back against the sofa to look at the ceiling. His head turns to look at you instead. “Maybe like… the first shift we worked together? Maybe the second, either way, you were shaking up spicy margaritas or somethin’, had this little smirk on your face. Then later you asked me for a cigarette and the rest is history…” 
Your cheeks heat at his confession and Eddie’s do the same. He’s embarrassed and you feel like an idiot for letting your hang-ups get in the way of really seeing Eddie and giving him a chance. 
“Jesus, Ed.” You squeeze his arm, just below the flurry of bats tattooed there. 
His arm sizzles where you touch him - well, that’s how it feels to Eddie anyway. “We got a good thing going though, I mean I really do enjoy it. Making you huff at me and roll your eyes. Fuck.” His smile is cheeky, a little dirty as he licks his lower lip. 
You laugh together and let him bring the joint to your mouth. Your eyes slip closed as you inhale before opening again to see Eddie watching you. It reignites the spark low in your gut as you begin to feel nice and fuzzy around the edges. 
Eddie takes one last hit before saving the rest, stubbing the joint in the ashtray on the arm of the sofa. His eyes don’t stray from yours as you crawl into his lap. 
You twist one of his curls around your fingers; his hair is soft and the curls springy. “Guess it was like…perverse flirting or really long foreplay?”
“Mm, hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “I’m good with both of those. That is if you let me take you out. A real date.”
You pretend to consider it, though you are already in his lap, in his home, ready to give him anything he asks for. “Yeah, I’d like that. Last night was real nice, just talking with you. Just… get me some flowers instead of punching a guy next time?” 
He copies your faux-consideration and nods, “Deal.”
Said deal is sealed with a kiss; this one is sweet and warm, soft even. You both know you are skipping ahead of your date, but as you smile against each other’s mouths, Eddie thinks he might just keep you in his lap forever if you let him. 
Your lips press and slide, tongues tangle and tease as the intensity simmers to a boil again. His hands roam up your thighs and around to grasp two handfuls of you, pulling you close as you press yourself against him. You can feel the hot breaths through his nose against your cheek, and Eddie wants to groan at the feeling of your breasts pushed up against him. Your bravery builds in tandem with how much you want and need him and you start up a slow roll of your hips. 
Eddie swears against your mouth, “Shit, you feel good.” He squeezes his hands and pushes his own hips up, letting you feel how thick and hard he is for you. 
Your whimper makes him crazy-mad with lust, Eddie’s lips feeling the vibration as he kisses your throat and finds that spot on your neck again. He wants to mark it, hear what noise that would pull from your pretty, kiss-bitten mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter of your lashes, the way your mouth drops open. He thinks you are so pretty and it makes the ache in his chest pulse like a bruise. 
You direct him back to your lips with a gentle tug, opening your eyes before you press a kiss to his lower lip before leaning back enough to untuck and pull off your t-shirt. Eddie’s jaw twitches as he feasts his eyes on the black lace cups you fill out so perfectly, the glint of your necklace beneath the hollow of your throat. 
He moves both hands back to your waist where the denim cuts in, fingertips skating the bare skin above. “Can I?” he asks, looking up to your eyes. 
Instead of answering, you cover both hands with your much smaller ones, guiding them upward until you feel the warmth of his hands cover and cup the weight. 
“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, looking at your face again as his thumbs seek and stroke the pebbled nipples beneath. 
Eddie had never been subtle when he checked you out at work; he made playful and bawdy comments his cover story to get away with letting his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. You let him away with it every time, knowing you would get him riled up another way later that shift or on the next one. 
When you look down, the sight and feel of his guitar-scarred hands on your chest make you bite your lip hard. Your palms skate over the gooseflesh of Eddie’s arms, over the bulk of his biceps and shoulders as he learns how to make you keen for him with just his hands on your breasts. You pull him in for another filthy kiss and blindly glide your fingers down his chest to the top of his trousers. You have already felt how hard he is under the roll and grind of your hips, but it’s not enough. Eddie deserves to be touched and tasted after all this time, pining over you. Not because you pity him, you want to make up for lost time. 
His hips press upward, seeking out your touch; you adjust yourself to straddle one of his thighs and flip the hem of his t-shirt up to get at the button and zip. Your eyes are fixed on the hard line of him pushing up against the fabric; your fingers brush over it before undoing the fastenings, making his breath catch in his throat. 
“I want you so bad,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw again. That makes you pulse right between your legs; you relish the firmness of his thigh pressing against you there as he kisses his way back to your lips. You pull away only to push the black work pants and tartan cotton boxers down enough to get at him, to see him. 
Eddie watches your eyes flash when you see the thick length of him, brushing your fingertips up and down to watch it kick with arousal. You nuzzle against his cheek as you take him in your hand, telling him how big and pretty his dick is before beginning to stroke him. In your mind, you’re thinking about how he will feel inside you and in your mouth, but you try to focus on kissing his neck and learning how he likes to be touched. He’s rock hard and weeping at the tip, it makes your mouth water.
“You think about me when you do this for yourself?” you ask, pausing to lick your hand before grasping him again. The tinge of salt on your tongue makes you want more. 
Eddie nods, eyebrows pinching together. “Fuck, I do. Tried not to, but I can’t help it.” 
That makes you feel hot all over and you rock yourself against his thigh to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “M’here now, don’t need to pretend anymore, Eddie.” Your lips brush his jaw and the way he moans, the way he pulses with arousal in your hand, it makes you giggle. 
“You’re literally gonna kill me,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut. 
“I’m not. Promise. Just want you to feel good,” you say, and kiss him again when your hand picks up the pace. 
Eddie’s hips rock upward into your fist. His hand stills your arm and he has to take a few breaths before looking at you - his chocolate-button eyes are consumed by dilated pupils. “This’ll be over real fast if you keep that up, baby. You’ll never let me live that down.”
His head dips to kiss across the tops of your breasts before running his nose up along your throat. His head tilts toward his room. “Can we? Been thinking about you in my bed.” 
You nod, keep cool even though the butterflies in your stomach are back with a flurry of vengeance. Eddie grins, which sets you off too, and you tuck him back into his boxers before moving to let him stand. 
He offers you a hand and twirls you once. “Hold on. Let me just..” 
Eddie pauses, looks you up and down and you know he’s up to no good. Before you can figure him out he has you over his shoulder with a surprising show of strength. You squeal-laugh, slapping your hand on the back of his thigh. “EDDIE!” 
His laugh is throaty and rough - like an honest-to-god gremlin - and he just about manages to keep his pants up as he carries you to his room. “You seemed to like the idea of that earlier, what you complainin’ about, baby?” 
You can only laugh in response until you’re deposited onto his bed with more care and gentleness than anticipated. You lay back to catch your breath, cheeks warm and aching as you grin up at Eddie. You’re certainly not unimpressed by his ability to fireman-lift and carry you. He kneels to untie your boot-laces, then his own. You sit up and pop the button on your shorts before Eddie takes over, removing them along with your shoes to leave you in your only slightly mismatched underwear and bra - they’re both black, and Eddie doesn’t notice or care. All he sees is you, in his bed.
His t-shirt and pants are left in a heap with your clothes and in a moment he is with you, laying you back to kiss you everywhere. His hands and lips map your body, kissing freckles and stretchmarks, nuzzling the red mark your bra left around your middle when it’s removed and lost to the floor. He notes the ticklish spots on your ribs, saves them for later, and lavishes kisses on your bare breasts. 
As Eddie lays his body between your spread legs, you wish you had longer to see the new ink revealed to you but take the chance to stroke his hair like you have been wanting to. He practically purrs and chases the relaxing motion, leaning against your hand when he breaks his trail of kisses to the band of your underwear. The light is too dim to see how soaked they are, a darker shade of black between your legs caused by him, but Eddie knows it’s there and teases his fingers over the damp heat. He smiles when your hips jump up at the friction. 
His chin rests on your hip bone while he looks up. “This okay?” he checks, dipping his fingertips up past the elastic around the top of your thigh. He goes no further until you nod, breathe out ‘yes, please’.
You get the feeling that if Eddie was still wearing pants, your undies would go right in his back pocket. The thought of that alone makes you throb as Eddie looks at the feast in front of his eyes. 
“Oh she’s pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “And so wet f’me…” 
You gasp when he finally touches you, stroking his finger down the seam of you. He swears and shifts his hips against the bed when he feels your wetness and watches his finger come away shiny. 
He pushes one kiss below your belly button before getting comfy, manoeuvring one leg over his shoulder with his arm around for good measure. His curls tickle against your leg but all you can focus on is how his tongue strokes and licks, how his lips suck and press. 
His name bounces off the poster-clad walls, your voice gaspy and ragged when his tongue circles your clit before pushing its way inside you to seek out your soak. 
“So sweet, I knew you would be.” His voice is a murmur against your cunt, there and gone again as he seals his lips around your clit. 
“Fuhhh- Eddie.” 
One hand balled in the duvet, the other a crown atop his dark curls as you shift your hips and help him find the angle that is just right. He is rewarded with a scalp-burning tug and a guttural moan you can’t even begin to be embarrassed by as he feasts on you like a starved man. 
His fingers squish your doughy thigh before he slows to a pause - it’s brief and yet you whine in complaint. You feel his breathy laugh against your folds, his murmured ‘easy, baby’. Eddie stopped only to remove the rings on his right hand so that he could push one, then two, deep inside seeking out your g-spot before you can comprehend that his rings are on your fingers for safekeeping. 
His eyes are fixed on you; your heaving chest and breasts, the blissed-out expression on your face. He knows when he has found it, feeling you gush in time with a wet, wobbly moan of his name and the pained-by-pleasure look that graces your pretty face. 
“That’s it, huh? Good girl,” he murmurs. He earns another loud moan as you arch your back to chase absolute bliss. 
Eddie’s hips roll against the mattress - if you had the brain capacity to notice you would surely die on the spot. Your heart already feels like it is about to leap from your chest, blood pounding in your ears as he keeps up the pace and pressure. He can hear and feel how close you are as your voice gets higher, begging brokenly ‘yes, yes! Eddieeee!’ when you free fall over the edge. 
Your body goes tense and then boneless as he works you through it, not letting up until you nudge his head with your thigh. “Too mm-much,” you slur, hips twitching. Eddie presses gentle kisses and murmurs words of praise against your sensitive sex; he leans into how you stroke his head while you come back to the land of the living. 
“Y’okay?” he asks, smiling up at you with shiny lips. He eases his fingers out, marvels at just how soaked they are in the golden glow of the bedside light before kneeling up and licking them clean. “Knew you’d be sweet, sugar.” He winks and you curl in on yourself as you shake with laughter. 
“You’re a menace, Munson. Remind me how you've been single all this time when you can do that?”
You take his hand, pulling him down so he is lying on top of you. He’s hard against your hip, but isn’t pushy with getting you to do something about it as he lies with you, holding you as you bask in the afterglow. 
“Guess I had this really big weird crush on a pretty girl, got me in a dry spell,” he teased. He smacks a smooch to your cheek and makes a pleased little noise when you pull him in for a proper kiss, taking your cheek in his ring-less hand. 
You let yourself feel a little smug as you drag your fingertips up his back, swirling and stroking until they brush the band of his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” you whisper against his lips, hoping that the dry spell won't ruin your plans.
Eddie nods and peels himself away to kneel up and reach over to his messy bedside table, digging an almost full box from the top drawer. He squints at the date and takes one from the packet with a pleased grin, “We’re in luck.”
You reach out to palm him through the straining cotton, feeling the growing damp spot and smiling up at him as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. You sit up, pushing his boxers down with both hands. They join the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor while you get your hands back on Eddie’s body. You see more ink usually hidden beneath his clothes; you want to look at each tattoo, study it and ask him what it means, listen to him tell you more stories and secrets. But there’s plenty of time for that. 
Eddie smiles against your mouth when you wrap your fingers around him again, chancing a glance to watch your hand - your hand heavy with his rings - stroking him. His hips jerk almost of their own volition; his brain has most certainly gone static. “Jesus, fuck,” he murmurs. 
You catch on a moment later and giggle against his shoulder. “That got you going, huh? Me wearing your rings…”
“You get me going. That’s just extra hot.” His voice catches when you squeeze him again, and he calls you a devil woman one more time. You’re getting used to it, kinda like it. 
The foil packet crinkles under Eddie’s knee. You push his chest gently, sending him to sit up against the headboard so you can make his lap your throne again. Without hesitation, you tear the foil and roll the latex down over the diamond-hard length that’s weeping for you to sit on it. He steadies your hips as you hold the base of him, sinking down through the stretch and pinch eased only by how soaked you still are. 
It’s intense, the burn and the closeness. Eddie’s forehead against yours as you watch him watching you take him inside. The lingering tendrils of the weed you smoked together make it all so deliciously fuzzy and warm. Neither of you makes a move, settling into the tight heat and fullness of Eddie inside you. 
His fingers stroke your hips while yours twirl the ends of his hair, touch his silver chain and brush up his neck so that you can cup his jaw and kiss him again. You hold on to each other tighter as you begin to raise and roll your hips, savouring the stretch until your body tells you to move faster, harder. 
“Look how pretty you are,” Eddie murmurs, taking in the bounce of your breasts and the way your jaw hangs open as you move in his lap. “Yeah, that’s my girl. Are you my girl, baby?” 
You whimper, holding him tighter and closer as you nod. “I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.” Your voice wobbles but not because you’re unsure, you’re just feeling so good, so full. 
Eddie groans deep in his throat, squeezing your hips and ass tighter as he helps you to bounce. You pause, focusing on rolling rather than rising to ease the burn in your wobbly thighs; it makes you whimper against his neck. It’s so much but not enough; so good, it’s frustrating.
“Shhh, I got you. You’re just feelin’ too good, huh?” he murmurs, nodding with you when you give a small ‘uh huh’. “Yeah, good girl.”
Your brows crease as you keep rutting your hips. “You feel so big. Fuck, Ed…” 
“You gonna let me do the hard work, hmm? You just lay back and look pretty for me, princess.” His voice is like hot honey, making you drip in his lap. He feels you pulsing, making his hold on your hip tight enough to leave a bruise as he gathers his composure. He’s wanted this so bad for so long, refuses to let himself (and you) down by busting early like a teenager. 
You nod, blissed out as he runs his hands over your warm body. Eddie is careful, so gentle, as he helps you to move up and off of him. He guides you to lay back, comfy on the pillows that smell just like him. You can’t resist nuzzling into them as he makes his way back between your legs. 
“Comfy?” he asks, palming your thigh as you hook your legs over his hips. He watches your eyes, sees that you are a little more with it now, with him. He can’t wait to see you dreamy-eyed and blissed out beneath him. 
You nod and squeeze his hips. “Very comfy.” He sees how your lips pout, asking for a kiss without words.
As if he could say no, refuse you the very thing he himself is craving. 
Eddie leans forward, arms braced on either side of your head and presses his lips to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He laughs quietly when you scowl all mean before you soften at the brushed blessing of his lips against yours.
He reaches down and takes himself in hand, stroking a few times before rubbing the tip against your cunt. He imagines how this would feel without the condom, feels the hot winding pull in his abdomen at the thought before your voice brings him back. He smiles and nudges his nose against yours, mirroring the rub down below.
“Please,” you whisper, lips catching Eddie’s. “Fuck me.”
The eye contact is almost too much, a burning intensity, but you feel hypnotised to keep your eyes on him as he pushes inside. 
You squeeze your lips together, feeling that stretch again, and watch how Eddie’s brows pinch. 
“You feel unreal, baby.”
He rolls his hips and pushes the rest of the way in. Lashes flutter and your jaw drops open. He feels so deep, it’s like he’s all the way in your chest. 
After a moment he begins to thrust slowly, dragging himself halfway out before pushing all the way in again and again and again. Eddie drinks in the little whines and moans that spill from your lips. 
“Don’t go shy on me now,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. When his hips rock again you feel him press against that spot that makes you see stars and there is no way you can keep quiet. 
“There we go, is that it?” Eddie asks, repeating the motion. Your back arches and he hikes your leg higher, almost folding you in half as his thrusts get harder, faster.
You can feel tears pricking your eyes, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Through the sting, you see Eddie’s clenched jaw, the meaty cord in his neck straining and the rosy glow on his cheeks. 
“Eddie, m’so close,” you whimper, almost tearful as you squeeze his forearm.  
“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Fuck.” He huffs through his nose when you flutter around him and he leans over you more, spreading you wider still as he begins to pound his hips into you. He is barely holding on, feeling hot all over as he fucks you, wishes it could last longer but you’re both so tightly wound.
There’s a perfect press and drag against your clit that winds that cord of pleasure inside you tighter and tighter. Your mouths press together; barely a kiss, more a shared moan. One particularly hard thrust brings you to your climax with a broken moan against Eddie’s chin. Your nails press into his rear and pull him in to rut against that spot, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life as he meets his own peak with a husky throaty groan.
You feel like you're floating, fallen over the edge in each other's arms.
The weight of Eddie on you brings you slowly back to earth, breath huffing against your neck as you stroke up his back and up into his curls. You take a deep breath in; when you exhale it's shaky and wobbly almost like a quiet sob. 
Eddie summons the strength to press up and look at you, seeing your dazed smile and warm wet cheeks. “Hey,” he wipes the tears gently, “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, panic spiking the glowy daze. 
You shake your head, almost giggling when you speak. “No, no. Fuckin’... amazing.” You pull Eddie back down and wrap yourself around him, holding each other as you come back to earth. A few more tears escape and Eddie wipes them away with such reverence. You stay quiet until you can string a sentence together. “That was incredible.” 
He smiles, cupping your face, and kisses you before carefully rolling you onto your sides to face each other to run your fingers over each other's warm bodies and share more kisses. Once he is sure you’re actually okay, he excuses himself to throw the condom away and returns with water and a damp flannel. He spends a moment cleaning you up as you gulp the water down, then finishes the rest and fills it again before closing his bedroom door. 
“You want a t-shirt?” he asks, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before throwing his hair into a low bun.
Despite the blanket, you feel a little shivery and accept the offer. 
He helps you into a well-loved Dio t-shirt before pulling the duvet over you both. Your legs are tangled together as you lie together, as close as you can. Outside, past the closed curtains, the sun is already starting to peek on the horizon.
You hum tiredly against Eddie’s shoulder when you remember the weighty silver on your hand and tap his hip gently. “Hey, Romeo. Your rings.” Your hand comes up in front of his face, wiggling your fingers. 
Eddie smiles, a lazy curl of his lips, and kisses the tips of your fingers before taking them off for you. He reaches back to drop them on his bedside table.
You want to stay awake, stay in the bubble of bliss, but the pull of exhaustion is too strong. 
“Sleepy?” Eddie brushes a kiss on your forehead and flicks the lamp off when you nod. 
“Eddie? Tonight was amazing,” you whisper against his chest.
He smiles in the dark, squeezes your hip. “Yeah, it was. I’ll make tomorrow amazing too if you’ll let me, but you gotta sleep first. Bet you’re really grumpy when you’re tired.”
“Shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in the pillow. In the dark, you can just see the outlines of each other, shapes and shadows. “Lemme sleep and you can take me for breakfast. Like a date or somethin’.” 
He hides his grin poorly, you can see his teeth flash even with your eyes almost closed. “Nah, breakfast is part of the package. Lemme plan something for our date.” He gives you one last kiss, “Sleep now, sugar.” 
You feel warm, so happy and safe in his arms as you fall asleep. If Eddie asked, you would never leave his arms, leave his bed. And Eddie? Eddie lingers on the precipice of sleep, ready to drift once he knows you’re sleeping soundly. He kisses your forehead one last time before closing his eyes, both holding each other in an utterly blissful sleep. 
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nebulaafterdark · 1 year
Text
Dearest Love
Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Summary: Aegon and Y/N are newly married and thus they must begin producing heirs. Set before the ‘More Than Anyone’ series. Inspired by @narwhal-swimmingintheocean
Warning: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY! Targcest, mentions of sex.
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“That was a heavy sigh, sweetheart.” Aegon chuckles as his wife turns away from him. “You reached your peak, did you not?”
“I am not yet with child.”
“Mmm, and I have been doing my best to remedy that.”
“What if I am barren?”
“You are not,” Aegon scoffs. “Ripe little thing, you are. If it is either of us, it must be me.”
“They will blame me.” Y/N murmurs.
“Who, my darling?” He demands, using his arms to reel her back in. “Who will blame you? You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You do not understand the pressure that I am under to produce an heir.” She begins anxiously toying with his fingers.
He does not understand, they’ve been married but a moon turn, almost two.
“Sweet girl,” he frowns, nuzzling the side of her face. “If it does not take, there are other things we might try.”
“Like what?” The princess wonders, smushing their cheeks together.
“Never you worry about that, hmm? I will give you a babe, as many as you want. As many as you’ll give me, but you must settle down.”
“I am settled.”
“Even your cunny was tense.”
“Aegon,” Y/N whines, covering both hands over her face.
“None of that,” he chuckles, feeling himself harden again. Sliding into her slick from behind, the pair on their sides. “You know I adore you.”
“Aegon,” she sighs, reaching back to stroke his hair.
“Try to enjoy yourself, dearest.” Aegon murmurs, “let us not make a chore of it. When you are with child I will want you still.”
“Will you?”
“Every morn, noon and night I will want you. I want you always.” One hand wanders down from her hip to her belly, stroking the warm skin there. “Soon you will swell with our child. So very soon. I swear it on all my love for you.”
Love, a frivolous endeavor, as Aegon had called it not so long ago, is now the currency which he swears by. Y/N nods, lacing their fingers together for just a moment before he is pulling away.
Bringing her leg backwards to rest over his hip. Fingers teasing her bundle of nerves once more. “Now-” her little cunt is sloppy, loud and hot as his earlier release lingers within, “be a good girl for me.” He keeps her full of his seed, fingers and cock. Determined to give her exactly what she wants.
News breaks over the next few weeks, the Princess Y/N is with child.
This update on his wife’s condition did not come through her, rather in passing during a visit to the silk streets. Aegon acts as if he is in the know, of course he knew, Y/N is his wife. The number of cups he consumes that night is more than he’s indulged in since the start of their union.
And when he returns that night, to crawl into Y/N’s bed, she welcomes him there. “You are in quite a state, my Prince.”
“You did not tell me.” He slurs the words out from where his head rests, cradled against her bosom.
“You were not here.” Y/N strokes a patient hand over his hair.
————————————————————————
Y/N grows quickly and the Maesters confirm that she is with more than one child. Likely no more than two, though they cannot say with certainty.
She is sick often, tired and moody, though she tries, Gods know how hard she tries.
“This is what you wanted, is it not?” Aegon asks, staring up at her over the tiny swell of her womb.
“This is what I wanted,” Y/N assures him.
Why then are you so unhappy?
In Aegon’s defense, he has no concept of what a marriage should be. Certainly no concept of how to properly love someone the way he loves his sweet wife.
“And now she draws away from my touch.” He cries into his cup. Entirely intoxicated as he lounges, nude in the lavish private room of the pleasure house. The women there please him greatly, repeatedly. Only nothing compares to the feeling of her.
“Oh, my Prince.” His lady of the night frowns. “Perhaps your wife is at war with herself.”
“In what way?” Aegon rolls onto his side to face the pretty blonde in which he attempts to drown his sorrow.
“She is with child. Tis not an easy task. The Princess might need a little…more from you in these times.”
“A gift!” Aegon suggests, “she might like a gift.”
“She might.” The woman agrees.
“Would you help me find something? Of course, something for you as well. For your troubles.” Aegon springs from the mattress, making for his clothes.
“You are half my troubles, your majesty.” There is no heat behind her words. “The sooner I return you to your bride, the sooner I can retire.”
————————————————————————-
Aegon presents Y/N with a necklace, the following night before supper. Nestled safely in a satin case.
“It’s beautiful.” Y/N breathes, tracing the chain with her finger.
“Would you like to wear it?” He cannot tell by the look on her face.
“Help me with the clasp?”
“Turn around, my love.” My dearest love. Aegon takes the necklace in hand. Waiting as she turns, then securing the gem in place.
“How does it look?” Y/N smiles, facing her husband as she strokes her thumb over the stone.
Don’t you know you hold the moon and stars in your eyes? “Perfect.” You are perfect.
She kisses him then, softly, sweetly on the mouth. “Thank you, Aegon. I love it.” I love you.
They join the rest of their family for dinner. Alicent taking note of her daughter-in-law’s jewelry. The way Aegon’s hand does not leave the tiny swell of her belly. They are in love. Head over heels, madly in love. So long as they are, only good will come of their union.
As Y/N grows, not much seems to fit her. Even her mother’s maternity dresses leave little breathing room and she is only two thirds through her term.
She cries often, so often that Aegon’s heart breaks with it. The heaviness of her sorrow. Though such is her duty and she does love the babes, more than she can say.
“This will be over soon, love. Our sweet babes will be in your arms.” Aegon soothes, holding her close, stroking dark hair with an affection learned just for her.
Y/N nods, sniffling as she clings to him. She is always hot or hungry or tired. So terribly tired.
“Tell me, sweet girl, what should you like to name our little dragons?” He wonders, stroking her belly to feel the tiny kicks there.
————————————————————————-
Y/N does not understand how or why Aegon is still attracted to her in this state. Not when he has prettier whores to bury his cock in. Even so, Y/N allows him to kiss and lick at her greedy little cunt anytime it pleases him.
“My only love,” he murmurs against her inner thigh. “My dearest love.”
And when he fucks her, so soft and sweet; Y/N has no choice but to believe that he loves her as much as he claims.
When they are finished, he breathes in deeply, his ever furrowed brows lulled to submission. Almost as if he were relieved.
“I do love you, Aegon.” Y/N whispers, “I love you with all my heart.”
————————————————————————
They spend days together strolling the garden, sharing secrets and stealing kisses.
At supper Aegon demands a cushion for his sweet love. The weight of their babes, push down on her back and hips. Y/N is terribly uncomfortable, even when she does not speak it, Aegon sees. Everyone sees.
“Make quick work of your food, darling.” Rhaenyra encourages, “so that you might retire early.”
Alicent bites her tongue. Though it is the King’s place to excuse the Princess and not Rhaenyra, she does not wish for Y/N to suffer.
Once Y/N and Aegon are finished, the Prince helps her to stand and when she does…
“What is it?” Aegon fusses about her, desperate to understand why all the blood has drained from her face.
“M-my waters.”
Everything moves out of time. Y/N is whisked away. Aegon is forbade from seeing her as she births their children. He remains close to the door of her chambers, wishing to hold her more than anything. To bring even an ounce of comfort to his wife, but it would be improper. And they must be respectful of tradition.
When the heart wrenching sound of Y/N’s cries begins to quiet, Aegon is informed that he has two daughters. Though his wife has yet to deliver the afterbirth, he forces himself to her side. Despite his mother’s warning.
The babes are perfect, being bathed softly by Y/N’s maid. The Maester working between her trembling knees.
“Y/N,” Aegon cups her cheek.
“Aegon.” She slurs, drunk on milk of the poppy, administered to stitch up where she’d torn.
“You did remarkably.” He kisses her sweat damp forehead.
“A son will be next,” Alicent assures her. They will have to try again.
If looks could kill, Alicent would have fallen over dead at the daggers Rhaenyra shoots her direction. Stroking her daughter’s dark hair affectionately.
Aegon waves his mother way. “Rest now, my dearest love.”
Moments later, when Y/N is long asleep, Aegon holds his daughters for the first time. One in each arm and neither of them cry. He does. Overcome with love for the tiny babes. When they do begin to fuss, Aegon hushes them. “Papa’s got you,” he rocks lightly, switching from foot to foot. “Papa’s here.”
He will never leave or shove them aside, never trade them for a thing in this world. He will be better than his own father. He will spend the rest of his life doting upon them and even still, they will never know how dearly they are loved.
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doitforbangchan · 3 months
Text
All Bark and No Bite 12
Masterlist /Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
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Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), grinding, kissing, cursing, crying, fluff, angst, drinking, drunk confessions, suggestive.
WC:8.4k
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Chan was right when he thought you would need a lot of aftercare. After the events in the shower he carried you to bed and cuddled you for hours, kissing you and saying how he’s sorry he had to do it. He never apologized for the punishment but he only said that he was sorry it was necessary. The only time he left you last night was to go grab you a plate of dinner that you ate in bed. As far as you knew anyways. 
In reality the alpha had waited until you fell asleep then he went and served the punishment news to Felix, who did not take it well. There was a lot of sobbing and pleading but the outcome remained. The beta could not speak to you or touch you in any way until Chan deemed it ok. Felix cried all night but knew he should have followed one of his alphas only rules regarding their omega.
You woke up that next morning feeling uncomfortably sore between your legs. You didn’t feel Chan in bed with you but you did suddenly hear the water running in his bathroom. For a moment you didn’t move, just laying there breathing in your alphas pure scent. 
Chan came walking out of his bathroom in just his boxers, noticing your open eyes. His eyes crinkled as he gave you a boyish grin and came to sit on the side of the bed closest to you. 
“Morning my love.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m running a bath for you. I figured you're probably hurting a little bit, huh?” 
You grumbled out a “yeah” and lifted your arms weakly for him to grab you. The alpha laughed lightly and scooped you in his arms, where he brought you to the bathroom. You could tell it was very early, the sun's rays not even quite peeking over the trees you could see from the window. “Wha’ time is it Channie?” you tiredly asked as he lowered your body into the warmth of his massive bathtub. It smelled like he added some epson salts and essential oils into the water. 
“Hmm about 6:00 am, maybe 6:15ish. There's a few things that need to be done before we leave and the drive to our usual camping spot is about an hour and a half.” He stripped himself and lowered himself to sit behind you. 
“Toooo early” you whined, head laying against his chest as he massages your shoulders.  When his hands traveled down further, now getting the knots in your back you let out a sigh. If you had to wake up early, this wasn’t a terrible way to do so. 
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By 7 you were out of the bath and getting some clothes together to take camping. You had decided to wear a pink boho floral dress that went down to your knees with your new swimsuit underneath. You grabbed a few change of clothes, some sweat pants and a hoodie in case you get cold. 
Chan could tell how excited you were for the lake when you came bounding back into his room with your stuff, skipping and grinning ear to ear. 
“What’s got you all skippy, baby?” He put your stuff in his duffle bag along with his own clothes. 
“Oh I don’t knooooow,” you drawled,wrapping him in your arms, “maybe just that we get to go swimming and camping today!” 
The alpha laughed and gave you a wet kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal and release him. “Can you even swim, baby? You said you’ve only been in the pool.” 
“Well, I mean..” you felt your face heat up. “I think I could swim just fine. My feet didn’t touch the bottom of the pool so I had to swim!” 
He patted your head patronizingly and cooed at you while still laughing “I’m sure you do your best, my love. Don’t worry though, your alpha will keep you from drowning.” 
You huffed and narrowed your eyes at him, poking his chest “ I can handle myself, I’m not a child and I won't drown!” You turned on your heels and stomped out of his room, the man cackling behind you even louder as you left. 
Down in the living room is where you found Minho and Seungmin.The front door was wide open and you could hear shuffling and moving outside. The older beta was going down the list and Seungmin was reassuring him that you all had everything. Well almost. 
Seungmin was the first to notice you, and he met you at the threshold of the living room with a smirk, “Hey, Baby.” He pulled you in for a swift kiss, and you giggled returning it. 
Minhos’ attention was now caught, his focus on Seungmin and how he acted with you. Since Min caught the younger beta groping you the other day he’s been paying more attention to the younger's actions. 
Seungmins hands pinched your thighs cheekily as he pulled away from you, “Cute dress.” He laughed as you smacked his hands away. 
“Thanks, jerk.” he dodged as you tried to pinch him back. You opted for sticking your tongue at him. “Good morning Min.” 
His eyes remained watching you even when he had been caught observing, “Morning, omega. Do you have everything ready to be put in the car?” 
“Channie has my clothes in his bag he is filling right now.” You nodded while answering. “ Is there anything I can do to help?” 
Minho sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “No I don’t think so. Maybe when changbin gets back you can help fill the coolers but other than that everything is about done. Innie is outside putting everyone's stuff in the cars” 
“Where did Changbin go?” you asked as you heard Chan starting to come down the stairs with your combined bag. 
“He went to the diner to pick up our food order and then to the store for more beer. He should be back in like an hour.” Min shrugged. 
“More beer?! As if the two cases I saw you loading yesterday weren't enough!” You rolled your eyes. 
“These boys love camping.” Chan answered as he passed you to take your bags outside. “More specifically they love to get unruly while camping.” 
“No better place than in the great outdoors with your best friends, a campfire and a pretty girl.” Minho winked while Seungmin fake gagged. “We also got some fruity drinks for you, baby. And Ji.” 
You beamed at that “Really? Thanks! How did you know I don’t drink beer?” 
“You don’t really seem the type, baby.” Sungmin smirked at your huff. 
Minho rolled his eyes “Anyways, when Changbin gets home we will be ready then we can leave.”
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Changbin had already hit the liquor store and the pharmacy, for your birth control prescription (at Chans request), now he was waiting at the diner for everything to be ready for him to take. He was sitting at the counter playing on his phone. The restaurant wasn’t busy, only a couple other patrons sat around in booths sipping coffee. What did catch his eye was the unfamiliar man sat a few seats down. 
The guy was young, maybe Changbins age. This town didn’t get many visitors, so it was a little odd to see him there. From what Changbin could tell the guy was a beta, a mated one since he had a mating mark on his neck. 
The beta must have felt Changbins analyzing stare, because he turned his head to meet the alphas' analyzing look. He lifted his hand with a grin and gave a little wave, “Hi.” 
Changbin was self-conscious about being caught staring, giving back a mild look of panic and a timid wave, “Uhh hey.” The alpha moved over a few seats until he was sat next to the beta. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just don’t recognize you, is all.”
“Ha yeah, I’m not from this area. I’m here to help my uncle with selling his estate.” He held out his hand for Bin to shake. “I’ll be around for a few weeks. My name is Wooyoung.” 
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“Where the fuck is Changbin? We need to get going!” Minho was clearly stressed out, pacing the driveway. To be fair, it was nearing 9am. You were sitting out on the porch on the outdoor sofa, watching the beta in his plight. Of course you wished to make it better, but unfortunately it was out of your hands. Slowly the rest of the pack shuffled out of the house, all ready to depart for the short vacation. 
Hyunjin surprised you when he plopped down next to you with a deep sigh. He leaned his head on your shoulder and grabbed your hand in his. “Hey angel.” 
“Hi Jinnie, are you ok?” You lifted his hand and placed a kiss on the back. 
He gave you a tired smile, squeezing your hand. “Yeah, just exhausted. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” 
You let him lean on you as he rested his eyes. “Why not?”
“Felix was a wreck last night. Crying for hours after Hyung scolded him. He needed me, so I stayed up with him.” Hyunjin sighed again, remembering just how distraught the younger beta had been all night. 
You froze, dread and devastation filling your heart. You hadn’t even realized Chan had said anything to Felix yet. He hadn’t made an appearance yet, so you had no idea how he was holding up. To be completely honest, you had forgotten about the punishment dished out by your alpha. You were having such a good day so far, it slipped your mind. 
Hyunjin could feel you tense up at the mention of Felix, he opened his eyes to see unshed tears in yours, and the sour scent of your sudden mood change filled his nose. “Oh sweet girl, come ‘er.” He embraced you in a comforting hold. 
“It’s all my fault, Jin.” You cried, burying your face in the boy's shirt. 
Your crying had caught the attention of Chan who was on the other side of the driveway chatting with Seungmin and Jeongin. He just watched from afar, not interfering with the comfort you were receiving from the beta.
“It’s not -” 
“Yes it is! I let him do it, I knew we shouldn’t have but I did it anyway. He’s never going to forgive me.” 
“Felix has nothing to forgive. He disobeyed a direct order from his alpha. He understands why and accepts it.” Hyunjin was stern yet soft with his words. The beta had sympathy for the younger but wouldn’t defend the actions. He listened the first time. 
“Will Chan forgive me, though?” You asked, trying to stop crying. The hiccups were relentless. 
Hyunjin found the alpha in question eyes, finding no malice or any negativity, just curiosity. “I would say you don’t have to worry about that, baby. Channie may get his panties in a twist when he feels like he has to go into ‘mean alpha mode’ but he gets over it quickly. He loves you, he forgives easily.” He pet your hair. 
“FINALLY!” You jolted out of Hyunjins hold when Jisung yelled from his place on top of his car. Ji was pointing at Changbins car coming down the path. 
Changbin stopped the car and popped his head out the open window, “Delivery!” 
“And where have you been?! We should have left by 8:30!” Minho stomped over to Changbin. 
“Well I met this guy at the diner and-” 
“It doesn’t matter, we gotta go.” Minho interrupted, “LETS GO GUYS!” He screamed it so everyone could hear. 
Hyunjin pulled you in for a sweet kiss, wiping your eyes as he did so. “It’ll all be ok, love. I promise.” You nodded at his words. He stood up and grabbed your hand for you to stand also. “Let's get loaded and get going.”
You both walked over to the truck Chan was waiting for you at, “Ready to go Omega?” you nodded. 
At this moment is when Felix walked out of the house. His eyes subconsciously searched for you where he saw you standing with Chan. You could see the redness in his face and his puffy eyes. He really had been crying all night. “Felix…” 
You took a step towards him instinctively, wanting to comfort him but your alphas arm shot out and kept you from moving closer “Omega. Get in the car.” He kept his hard eyes on you, willing you to obey. 
Felix saw this happen and ducked his head, beelining for Changbins car. He only sent Hyunjin one pleading look before ducking inside the vehicle.  Felix respects Chan too much to disobey him again, even though he badly wanted too.
As much as you wanted to go to Felix you knew you couldn’t. With a look of defeat you climbed into the truck sitting in the middle seat. Hyunjin poked his head in and gave you a sorry smile, “As much as I want to be here with you, baby, I gotta go to Felix.”
“I understand, Hyun, it’s ok. I’ll see you when we get there.” You gave him a tight smile in return, scooting to the passenger seat, clicking in your seatbelt.
“See you soon. Love you.” He poked in to give you one last kiss before he walked to the other car. 
Chan got in the driver's seat and started the truck, “ Are you ready, my love?” He was giving you that charming smile that you love. 
You figured there was no sense on dwelling on it so you smiled back at him, “yeah m’ ready Channie.” 
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The drive to their usual campground was surprisingly pleasant, albeit the emotions in the car were a little heavy. Though you liked all the passing trees as you went even further into the forest. Chan let you pick the music in the car and he told you stories about the last few camping trips. From what he told you, the boys did a trip a few times a year, when the weather was warm enough. 
You didn’t contribute much to the conversation, a little stuck in your head about the excitement of seeing a large body of water. Chan could feel your conflicting emotions, and could almost see them swirling inside of you. He only wanted you to have a good time so he decided to make a little adjustment. 
“Baby.” he started, casually when you were about 10 minutes from your destination.. You hummed in recognition. “I think I may have been a tad harsh, especially since we’re all going to try and have a good weekend.” 
“Harsh?” you were confused by his total subject change. 
“I’ve done some reflecting, and I’ve decided you and Felix should still be able to at least speak to each other.” He shrugged, never taking his eyes off the road.
You let out an incredulous gasp, “Are you being for real?! I can talk to him?!” Your eyes looked hopeful as you stared at the alpha. 
“Yes, I realize that it's impractical that two pack members can’t so much as speak to each other.” He let his eyes travel to you for only a second, to your beaming face. Chan put one hand on your thigh, just resting it there. “Remember, talking is the only thing I am allowing.”
“You got it, absolutely.” You were nodding rapidly, gripping his hand. “Thank you Alpha!” You were squealing with joy at the simplest of permissions, forgetting this was still a punishment and not a reward. As intended. 
“You’re welcome, omega. I love you.” He said cheekily, giving you another sly side look. 
“I love you Channie!” 
Now you feel more jazzed. More ready and less in your feelings. The last few minutes of the drive was less heavy, and before you realized it you were pulling into a clearing behind the other two cars you were following.  
You peaked your head out of the window, searching for any sign of water. “Where's the lake?”
Chan opened his door, and got out to come around the other side to open your door, “It’s a few meters through the trees in front of us.” he put his hand out for you to take, “we can’t set up camp to close or we risk getting water boarded.” 
Everyone started getting out of their cars, scoping out the area. Immediately the boys got to work setting up camp. You saw Felix get out of Changbins car and went to go over to him but Chan stopped you, “Wait a minute, baby. Let me talk to him real quick.” He shooed you to help the boys unload the truck, then walked over to the younger boy who was standing with Minho and put his hand on his shoulder. 
You weren’t able to hear what was being said, and couldn’t read Chan's lips since his back was to you, but you could see a little bit of the light return to the younger betas eyes and a light grin grace his lips. Felix appeared to nod in agreement then his eyes found yours, immediately seeking you out. You raised your hand to wave at him shyly, and he returned the wave. 
“You can take this if you want, baby.” Seungmin brought your attention back to the task at hand, handing you an arm full of blankets. He pointed to where you could leave them, and the pack set up camp. 
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Camp was coming along nicely, tents being set up and drinks already being distributed. When you were putting your and Chan's bag by one of the tents Felix came up to you. “Lix!” You almost went to hug him but remembered you couldn’t. “I miss you.” you smiled the best you can. 
“I miss you too, baby.” He grimaced then tried to smile back. “It’s just temporary. We can cuddle again soon enough. I promise.”
 You nodded. “I love you.”
“I love you too. More than you know.” You felt your skin heat up at his words. He noticed things were almost done. “Are you ready for lake time?” 
“Yeah!” You gave an enthusiastically loud response, then looked down trying not to come off so eager,  “I mean, yeah sure.” 
“HA! You couldn’t be aloof even if you tried, Omega.” Minho's teasing startled you and you jumped a little, turning to glare at him. 
Min put an arm around your shoulder as you responded, “How would you know? Maybe I just hide it really well.” You didn’t miss the way Minho looked at Felix when the older beta touched you, a smirk on his face. “And don’t be a jerk!” You shrugged his arm off. 
“Yeah leave Lixie alone, hyung!” Jisung hopped on Felix from behind. “He’s being punished enough.”
“Thanks Sung.” Felix deadpans, looking over it. 
Minho put his hands up in surrender, “Ok ok I was just teasing you,” Then his smirk grew almost evil as his arms suddenly shot out and grabbed you. You squealed loudly as he threw you over his shoulder, your fists coming down on his back in protest. “Ow don’t hit me! I’ll drop your ass!” 
“No! Don’t drop me, just put me down, you crazy! Aren’t you still setting up camp?”
“We’re done, it's play time now. I thought you wanted to go to the lake? I’m just taking you there.” He walked down the dirt path Chan had pointed out to you earlier. 
“AHH no no no no Minho please don’t toss me in!” You couldn't see the water but you were starting to hear it now as he kept walking closer “Min I can't swim very well!” 
He stopped near the edge of the water and lightly put you down on the ground. “I wasn’t going to toss you in, omega. You’re fine.” 
You let out a sigh of relief and finally was able to look out at the body of water. It was beautiful. Very picturesque, almost like a painting, with the mountains in the background reflecting on the shimmering water. The sun was almost at its highest point in the sky and suddenly being next to the water you really felt the heat.  
“What do you think, baby?” Hyunjin said from behind you, turning to see the rest of the pack coming down the trail. Hyunjin had a few towels and a folding beach chair. He didn’t have a shirt on anymore, his bare torso on display. “Beautiful huh?” 
“Yeah” you oogled him, “beautiful.” He just laughed and kissed you as he passed. 
Chan set you up a chair next to his, under a sun shade. Everyone picked their spots to set their stuff and then it was unleashing a pack of wild dogs. Most of them ripped off their shirts and sprinted towards the water, laughing and pushing each other. 
It was like a scene from a movie, all these beautiful half naked men, splashing each other and being idiots yet still somehow managing to look perfect. 
Your alpha was one of the few who hadn’t immediately jumped in the lake. He had his own shirt off as well, as he got out some sunscreen. “ Want me to get your back, my love? You need to be coated before getting in the sun.” 
“Yes please.” You tentatively pulled your dress over your head, revealing the swim suit you had picked out the day before. The action caught every male's attention,( most of them eyeing you anyways waiting for the reveal) all of them unable to take their eyes off your body. They could see all the bites and bruises left on your body from the last few days, courtesy of Hyunjin, Felix and -mostly- Chan.  Thankfully, you didn’t notice the boys in the water stopping to watch you, or you would have been too self conscious and put your dress back on. 
Jeongin turned to Jisung and Felix who were in the water with him, “You guys help her pick that out?” 
“Yeah.” “Uh huh” 
The youngest boy gulped, “thank you for your service.” and saluted them. 
“You’re so dumb.” Seungmin tried to push the alpha under the water and thus the play fighting resumed. 
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It was about an hour later, you were still sitting on the beach though now laying on a towel sunbathing, facing the water so you could still watch the boys all have fun.  Now it was just you and Minho left not in the water, the beta still keeping his shirt on also. He had brought you a lemonade a few minutes ago now he was sitting on his own towel a few feet away with a book. You had asked him why he’s not in there with everyone else, and he told you with a grimace he ‘wasn’t much of a swimmer’. It was a comfortable silence for both of you now as you laid in the sun.
Changbin was exiting the water and coming up to the cooler, grabbing a bottle of water and coming to stand next to you. “Aren’t you comin in, babes?” He asked you after taking a drink. 
Seeing Changbin shirtless and dripping wet was an ethereal sight. His body was like a well oiled machine, and it was very apparent just how hard he worked on it. You almost had to wipe the drool from your mouth. “Uh” you looked at the water then back to him, trying to pretend you hadn’t just been gawking at him. “I’m thinkin about it.” 
The alpha smirked, noticing your roaming eyes. “Are you nervous?” You gave him a timid nod, not hiding it from him. “Come on, I can hold on to you the whole time.” He held his hand out for you to take. 
You felt a little unsure, “do you promise?” you held your pinky out for him to swear. 
He looped his with yours, “promise.” you let him help you up. “I won’t let you drown, baby.” 
Changbin led you to the water, him stepping in first then gently guiding you in with him. The cool water felt good on your heated skin, a sigh of content escaping you as he brought you slowly into the lake. 
The group was a few meters out, the water up to their chests. When you got closer to them you clung to Changbin, the depth getting to your nerves. He let you wrap your legs around him as he carried you and giggled at you. 
“Look who decided to join us.” Seungmin splashed you, causing you to shriek. “I can hold you if you want, baby.” He had an evil glint in his eye, making grabby hands at you. 
“No way! You’ll probably try to drown me!” You clung harder onto Changbin. 
“I wouldn’t let him drown you, my love.” Chan swam up, splashing Seungmin. 
“Not if I drown you first!” The beta tried to shove Chan under the water and the alpha retaliated and pushed him away with a laugh, clearly not threatened. 
Changbin started waddling away, “Lets get the fuck outta this nonsense before Seungmin really does drown Channie and I have to step in. I don’t wanna be liable for that.” 
You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if something happened to your mate? Would Changbin take over as next head of the pack since he's the second oldest alpha? Something tells you Minho especially would not blindly follow behind a younger male. God forbid anything ever happen to your alpha, the thought alone gave you a deep pain in your chest. 
‘Stop being so fucking negative all the time. Nothing is ever going to happen to Chan.’ You mentally chastised yourself, shaking your head to dispel the corruptive thoughts. 
 Felix, Hyunjin and Jeongin were a little further out, and you thought Changbin was taking you over to that group but instead he shuffled to the left and went over to a cluster of boulders that were sticking out of the water. 
“Where we goin, Binnie?” you asked, still holding tight. The rest of the pack were getting further from as he went but still in sight. 
“Just wanted you to myself for a little while, sweet thing.” 
“Aww.” You pinched his cheek, “you’re the sweet one, Binnie. Carrying me around.”  
He giggled, “I’m just protecting my omega, from every threat even waist deep water.” You could feel your heart swell at his sentiment, knowing he was being completely honest. He set you on a rock that was low enough for you to climb on, then climbed up to sit next to you.
“Your omega, huh?” You tried for a teasing tone but the crack in your voice betrayed you. 
Bin scratched the back of his neck and looked away with a deep red on his face. He cleared this throat, “uh well, the pack omega.” 
You scooted closer to him, so your thighs were touching, “that means you’re right, I’m yours too Binnie.” He made a choked sound, and cleared his throat again. There was a sudden confidence you weren’t familiar with coursing through you, it made you bold enough to make a move on him. “Binnie..” you set your hand on his thigh. Even though he had just come out of the cool water, his skin was burning hot under your touch.
“Uh, yeah, baby?” he could feel his dick twitch at the simplest of touches from you. 
“I’m just really grateful to have you and I care about you a lot.” you leaned closer but he just groaned and let his head fall. 
“Fuck baby, you can’t just say things like that.” 
“Why not? It’s true. You said it yourself, your omega.” 
He let out a growl mixed with a groan, he lifted his head and his hungry gaze met yours. “ Better be careful, or I’m gonna fall in love with you.” He reached his hand out to cup your cheek.
Now your face was the one heating up, “Would that be such a bad thing?” it came out like a whisper as you leaned even closer. Changbin now was tilting his head closer to you, his eyes falling to your lips. 
“Too late.” He closed the gap between you and your lips met. Changbins lips were incredibly soft. He hadn’t been forceful like you thought he would be as an alpha, instead he pressed your mouths together with a gentleness you hadn’t expected. Almost as if he was scared to break you. 
You were the one to press closer to him, opening your lips slightly to encourage him to take it further. He took the hint, letting his hand grip your face a little tighter and his tongue enter your mouth. Changbin tasted woodsy, almost similar to Chan but Changbin was more smokey. It complimented his musky scent, both corresponding to make your head spin. 
There was a faint ‘whoop whoop’ heard that startled you both, causing you to pull away from him. Back on the beach Jisung and Minho were making kissy faces and hollering at you and Bin. 
“Grow up!” Changbin called to them, flipping them off while they laughed. You were about to flip them off too but then your eyes zeroed in on Felix sitting in the sand behind them, a drink in his hand, and the most pained expression on his face as he watched you and Changbin. It made your heart ache. 
“Hey Binnie?” you asked tentatively. 
“Huh? Yeah baby?” He turned to you , bringing his hands back down. 
“Umm,” you twiddle your fingers a bit, “ can we maybe go back to camp for a while?” 
He followed your gaze to see the young beta looking forlorn, “yeah baby, we can.” He hopped off the rock into the water, and lifted his arms to grab you again. You scooted down enough to let him take you in his hold once more, and the alpha carried you to shore. “It’s probably after noon by now, if you're getting hungry can we go get some lunch from camp?” He suggested. 
You nodded, “That sounds great.” He set you down only when his feet touched the shore. Together you walked up the beach to grab your towels. The three betas were still chilling there under the sunshade, Minho cooing at you both when you approached and Jisung continuing his kissy faces. “Alright calm down you children.” you laughed pushing Ji away as he pinched your cheek after handing you your towel. 
“You guys are jealous it’s not you getting precious omega smooches.” Changbin huffed. 
“Well, one of us especially is,” Minho let his eyes flitter over to Felix with a devilish smirk. The youngest beta still hadn’t said anything yet, just keeping his gaze ahead at the water. 
“You really are an asshole sometimes, hyung.” Changbin rolled his eyes.
“Yeah Min, sometimes you act more alpha than Changbin!” Jisung said with a cackle. 
“Now you’re the asshole Han! We were gonna bring back food now I ain’t bringing you shit!” Changbin grabbed your hand and pulled you up towards the trail to the campsite. 
“Noooo Binnie please bring me a sandwich!” Jisung whined with a pout.
“Starve!” 
Hand in hand you walked up the small trail. The campsite was very close, just unseeable through the trees, undetectable. When the camp was in sight you paused your footsteps, that boldness returning to you now that the prying eyes were gone. 
“You alright, babes?” Bin asked, noticing your stopped movements, “Aren’t you hungry?” 
“Yeah, I am. But not for food.” ‘What the fuck did I really just say that?!’ Whatever, you said it so now you gotta act on it. You lightly pushed on his chest until his back hit the nearest tree. 
“Huh-” you cut him off by pressing your lips against his .He wrapped you in his arms, pressing your body closer to his. This time he wasted no time in shoving his tongue against yours, his battling for dominance- though you didn’t put up much of a fight.
“Mmm” You hummed when he slotted his thigh between your legs, the strong appendage creating some friction on your clothed pussy. As much as you wanted him, you were still too sore to even attempt another alpha inside you. No, right now you just wanted to show him how much you appreciate him for always being so sweet to you. “Mm Bin, hold on.” you mumbled as he started peppering kisses to your neck. 
“Hm?” He couldn’t stop, the feel of your soft skin under his lips was addictive.  He wanted to run his lips and tongue along every square inch of your body, to taste every drop of nectar you provided. The alpha knew you must be so, so sweet. 
“Binnie,” You laid your hands on his chest and gently pushed yourself off of him, his lips chased after you causing you to giggle. “I wanna try something.” 
“You can do whatever you want, baby. I’ll give you anything you desire.” He meant it wholeheartedly. 
You still had your towel around you so you let it fall to the forest floor below you, and keeping eye contact with him you slowly sunk to your knees onto the towel. “Anything?” You were trying so damn hard to keep your nerves in check. You let your hands find his thick thighs, massaging them as you observed his dick growing in his shorts. 
“Anything.” He reiterated with a gulp. Changbin couldn’t take his eyes off your sultry gaze, awaiting your next move. He could tell you were doing your best to keep up a sexy facade and if he was being honest it was totally doing it for him. Anything you do does it for him, really. Blood was rushing further into his cock no matter what you did.
You took a deep breath as you let your fingers trail up his thighs and up to the waistband of his swim trunks. You tried to slow your racing heart as you looped your pointer fingers under the hem. You steeled your nerves and tugged down the still damp fabric down to his knees. 
Holy shit
Changbins cock was huge. Thick. Maybe not as long as Chans but Changbin made up for it in girth. ‘These alphas are gonna kill me one day.’ 
His tip already had a slow bead of precum coming from it as it stood straight up awaiting your attention. 
Your mouth was working quicker than your brain. “I don’t think that’s gonna fit in my mouth.” 
You both paused for a second, looking at each other like you both couldn’t believe you said it, before both of you burst into a sputtering laughter. His jolting was causing his dick to jump and slap against his stomach, the sight of it in your face was making you laugh harder and in return Changbin did too.  It took a full minute to get out the giggles out of both of your systems.
“If it’s too big for you baby, you don’t have to. I know you may not be able to handle it.” Bin said, catching his breath. He wasn’t being facetious but you still narrowed your eyes at the unspoken challenge. 
You tentatively reached out and took a firm grasp of his member. You could barely wrap your hand around it. The alpha immediately let out a pained groan, throwing his head back against the bark of the tree. Even the smallest of touches from you was overwhelming. 
You sat up further on your knees as you let your hand stroke over him, trying to find a rhythm. You had never come face to face with the phallic appendage like you were now, and now that you were down here with it in your hand you were starting to get more and more intimidated. 
With a final deep breath you leaned your face closer and placed a gentle kiss on the head. He let out a whimper at the contact of your soft lips. His little sound was encouragement for you to go further. You slowly parted your lips and slid his tip into your mouth, his precum tantalizing your tastebuds. You let out a low hum at the salty taste. 
Changbin kept his hands at his sides, letting you go at your own pace, but fuck was it so hard. His instincts were fighting against each other. His dominant alpha side wants to just claim your mouth and make you choke on it, the other part of him wanting to coo at you and take care of your needs instead. He should have known this was taking care of your needs. You were growing to love the feel of him in your mouth.
He couldn’t help but put his hands on your head when you attempted to take him further into your wet mouth. His girth was a stretch but you were determined. You had seen how it was supposed to be done, you may have been inexperienced but you had still seen porn before. 
You eased him as far back into your mouth as he could go, activating your gag reflex as you choked on him. 
“FUCK baby! Careful, you're gonna make me blow my load if you keep doing that.” He moaned out when he felt your throat constricting around him. Your mouth was so wet and hot, he could almost imagine your pussy being the same.
You slowly bobbed your head on him, letting out little hums of satisfaction when the alpha began moaning and panting. He kept his hands stationary on the back of your head, but he almost lost it when you looked up at him through your lashes with glossy eyes, and drools started to leak out of the sides of your mouth around him. 
“Oh my fucking god, you are the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” He wanted to cry when you hollowed your cheeks and a gurgle came from you with all of the saliva that was accumulating. “God damn how are you so good at this? Nughh wanna live inside your mouth.”
You giggled around him and his hands responded by gripping your hair, causing you to groan. He couldn’t help but lightly guide your head as you sucked on him. You only wanted to please him so you let him do as he wished, you were getting what you wanted either way. 
Rambling seemed to be a theme with these boys as Changbin started to spew all his thoughts and feelings out for you while you sucked him off. “ F-fuck your so perfect. Wanna give you everything, wanna take care of you ‘mega.” you let out a whimper of your own. “You wan’ tha’ baby? You wan’ Binnie to take care of you forever? Mmmm yeah I know you do. That’s all I want, omega, all I need. Wanna love on you and build you a big house and- and- fuck- wanna show you what a good alpha I can be.” 
Tears gathered on your lash line; either from his endearing sentiment or this thick cock bullying the back of your throat you didn't know. All you did know was how bad you wanted him to cum for you. With all the sweet talking he was doing he deserved it. Your hand found the base of his shaft that you couldn’t fit and you began to stroke him, trying to match movements with your mouth. 
“Oh my god im gonna cum, baby your gonna make me fucking cum.” His hips drilled just a little harder as he chased his high. “ mmm you want me to cum in your pretty little mouth? Wan’ your alpha to feed you his seed baby? Nnnuuhgg don’t worry m’ gonna give it to you, Alpha is gonna give it all to his omega.” He pushed you onto him one last time causing you to choke and that was the last push he needed, letting go and a flood of his essence filled your mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head as curses and moans came cascading out of him. The thick knot on the base was inflated fully as he came, luckily your mouth couldn’t reach that far on him.
His load was enough that it was spilling out the sides of your lips, even as you swallowed all you could. You didn’t mind the taste of it, but the feeling was definitely going to take some getting used too. You let him catch his breath and you removed his now softening member from your mouth. 
Bin looked down at you with blown out pupils to the hottest thing he had ever seen; you on your knees with teary eyes, lips puffy and red coated in saliva and semen. Fuck he wished he had his phone on him to take a picture. He’d make it his home screen. 
“Damn baby…” He puffed out, petting the back of your head affectionately. “You sure you’re not some kind of secret porn star? Cuz that can’t have been the first time you’ve done that.” 
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It took roughly five more minutes after getting off Changbin that a search party came looking for the two of you. Jisung was worried you had been eaten by a bear. At the sight of you both, changbin looking fucked out and you with puffy lips, Seungmin had retorted with ‘well something definitely got eaten’. Because of course he did. Slowly everyone started to trickle back to the campsite, all hungry and most sunburned. 
Night came quickly and by then the fire was lit and roasting hotdogs ‘so cliche’ while everyone had a beer in hand; or maybe two or three (5 +). Everyone was feeling good and laughing. You had even had a few drinks of your own, the alcohol making you incredibly tipsy and feeling relaxed. Chan was keeping an eye on how much you were consuming but overall was letting you let loose. At least you had changed into your sweats and hoodie so the mosquitos wouldn’t get you before you started drinking.
You hadn’t drinken in a while - the last time being a few months ago at your old best friend's house and that was mostly a glass of wine while you watched the oscars- so it had you feeling giggly and light. 
Everyone was kind of doing their own shenanigans. Jisung and Changbin were having a drunken rap battle, neither of them coming up with anything intellectual or even coherent. Hyunjin and Felix were having a heated discussion about the importance of proper hair care. Minho was slurring through an explanation of how to cook the perfect hotdog to an equally as drunk Jeongin. Then there was Chan who was strumming a guitar as Seungmin tugged you up from your spot next to the alpha to dance with him. 
“I can’t dance!” You tried to resist but your grin gave you away. Seungmin scoffed and yanked you up anyways. 
“Like I care if you can, the fact is you will.” He grabbed both your hands and spun you around, then pulled you closer to give you a light kiss. The kindest touch he’s given you yet. He then grabbed you like he was trying to waltz with you, both of you not knowing the correct moves and just stepping all over each other. You were honestly having a great time, until Seungmin being himself couldn’t resist ruining the mood. “You know he’s only making an example out of Felix, right?” 
You were caught in a whirlwind at his sudden declaration, “huh? What the fuck does that mean?” you tried to pull away but he kept hold of you, giving you his predacious smirk. 
“Chan.” He said it like it was obvious, “He’s using Felix’s fuck up to not only teach him a lesson but teach all of us a lesson. It’s really not cute of him.” He wouldn’t have ever brought it up if he wasn't inebriated, but when the beta had alcohol in him he became even more unsufferable. 
“What’s really not cute is that you're saying this right now, Seungmin.” You rolled your eyes at him. 
“No but you know what is cute? I mean other than you.” He spun you again so you would be facing Jeongin. “Our poor Innie hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since we started dancing. Isn’t that cute? I think he has a crush on you.” 
You locked eyes with the mentioned Alpha and he looked away quickly, as if he was ashamed at being caught staring. He did that quite a lot. Stared at you in awe hoping you wouldn’t notice. He also avoided being around you just as often. In your drunken state you were starting to grow self conscious at the reason. 
“I don’t think he likes me very much, Minnie.” You mumbled, looking back at the beta who had you in his arms. 
“Are you joking?” He snickered, “Oh I think he likes you way more than you know.” He let go of you and gave your butt a harsh smack in the direction of the seated younger male. “Why don’t you go ask him and see for yourself, huh? Give us some entertainment.” 
You huffed, “Maybe I will ask him. But not for you, for me!” you marched over to Jeongin with intent as Seungmin cackled watching you go.
Jeongin had been avoiding your eyes so he hadn’t noticed you were coming to him until you plopped yourself down in his lap. He gasped as you seated yourself on him, eyes wide with surprise and his body freezing in place. 
“Hi Innie.” 
“Uhhh” He was at a loss for words, his brain failing to work the second you touched him. 
“Can I ask you a question?” The alcohol you had consumed was making you feel emboldened. Tomorrow when you're sober you will be humiliated. Oh well it will be worth it to get to the bottom of his avoidance. 
Jeongin cleared his throat, his face felt like a furnace with how it was heating up. “Umm yeah, yeah you can as-ask me a question.” 
“I’ve kinda been noticing you avoid me sometimes…” You started, hesitantly. You didn’t wanna make him upset but you were genuinely curious. “And I’ve kinda been wondering why..” 
He bit his lip when you shifted in his lap, already losing his mind and you haven’t even done anything. He still hadn’t put his hands on you, holding them out so they wouldn’t touch. He let out a shaky breath, “ I don’t avoid you, Y/n.”
“Well maybe not technically, but I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like you want to be around me. You seem almost… pained when I’m around.” You were fighting back a pout but your lips did it anyway, having a mind of their own sometimes. 
The alpha boy wanted nothing more than to bite those pouty lips, to feel the soft flesh between his teeth. “Fuck” he accidently whispered. 
“Huh?” 
“N-nothing! Uh it’s complicated, Y/n.” 
Your pout grew bigger, “but why is it complicated? Do you- do you not like me?” You leaned away, wanting to cry suddenly. “Is it because of the thing that happened when I was on my heat?”
Jeongin looked at you like you've burned him with your question, eyes shooting to yours in panic. “That's not it at all! Don’t say things like that!” Now you were the shocked one, not expecting his outburst. “Fuck, ok what I mean is, no of course not. I like you Y/n. Maybe too much..” He mumbled that last bit and in your inebriation you almost missed it. Key word being almost. 
“Why too much, Innie? Isn’t it a good thing that you like me?” You wiped your tear that fell, then let your face fall into his chest. 
He let out a quiet groan at your action, the smell of you weakening his resolve. He knew it would be embedded in his sweater for days to come. “You want me to be honest?” You nodded against him. “I have a hard time controlling myself around you. You make me almost feral. Everything about you is intoxicating. So yeah it’s kinda complicated.” 
You let out an involuntary purr, his statement making you suddenly needy. You tightened your hold on him and pulled your face up to meet his. He was searching your face for some kind of disgust but was distracted by the pleased scent flooding out of you. It was making his brain foggy. 
“Can I be honest now?” He nodded back at you, “ I really like you, Innie. And I don’t want you to hide away from me. Ok?” He nodded again, eyes closing as he was dragged further into your appeal. “Can-can I maybe kiss you?” 
“Uhh, ye-yeah. Maybe a little.” 
You leaned in closer to his face and pressed a soft peck to his lips. His hands shot to your waist when you pulled away from him, dragging you back to his mouth as he attempted to devour you. You let out a squeal from the action, catching the attention of Chan who was across the fire still strumming on his guitar. 
As if they had a mind of their own your hips gave an involuntary grind on his lap and he growled in response, tightening his hold. Before he could take it any further, you were suddenly yoinked out of his hold and into the arms of Chan. 
“Alrighty, that's enough of that. You’re both too drunk for this right now. You can resume in the morning when you're sober.” Chan said as he lifted you off of the younger alpha. “Time for bed, omega.”
You whined but didn’t fight it, letting him scoop you with no resistance. Jeongin almost growled at his alpha, but the sensible part of him knew that was a terrible idea. Look what happened to Felix when he disobeyed. 
“Goodnight, baby.” He managed to get out in his stupor. He’s gonna be thinking about you all night. 
“Night Innie.” You waved at him, then waved to the other boys as you passed them while Chan carried you to your shared tent. “Night boys! Love you!” you called out. There was a cluster of goodnights and love you too’s. 
Chan chuckled, “You love them all huh, baby?” he set you down on the plethora of blankets he made sure to pack for you. 
“Mmhmm, I do, Alpha.” Once you were wrapped up in the comfort you felt yourself grow drowsy. “Love ‘em all s’ much.” 
Chan got into the blankets with you, letting you curl into him. He placed a kiss on your head as you drifted off. “They love you too, so much.” 
You were out like a light.
A/N:AHHH I've had that changbin scene in my head for months before I even started this series so im pretty excited about it lol. The lake pic used above is a pic of the actual lake I live by, any guesses which one it is?
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!
Beta read by my wonderful bumble bee @ayejaii
©doitforbangchan
Taglist- Closed
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simpcityy · 1 year
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I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)
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Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.
Word Count: 500
Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6
Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.
Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.
“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”
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Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!
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maeby-cursed · 8 months
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KISS ME, TRY TO FIX IT…
𓂃 COULD YOU JUST TRY TO LISTEN ?
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a/n: starting a new series of songfics ! this one is very obviously inspired by sad, beautiful, tragic, so you can see where this might be going. enjoy the results of my brainrot ♡ (also, i’ve never written for gojo before, please have mercy)
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✧ synopsis: you’ve been waiting for satoru gojo for ten years, but there’s no trace of the man you fell in love with when you were sixteen years old. it’s time to let go, but he might not want to.
✧ pairings: satoru gojo x fem!reader
✧ wc: 2k
✧ rating: angst. so much of it, angst to drown in. might get suggestive at some points.
✧ cw: mentions of drinking, of the great jjk tragedy of 2006 and its aftermath, implied cheating, gojo may be ooc, toxic relationship ??
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An ice-cold wind blows through the window as you wait.
It’s not even December yet but it’s already snowing.
Soft snowflakes the size of stars, far away in their firmament, enter your living room. When they land on the sofa, they dissolve, leaving in their wake thousands of specks of water that look disturbingly like tears.
It doesn't matter. You don't think he's going to notice anyway.
It's been ten long years of waiting. Ten long years of fighting, of fixing what's broken and denying that it's ever been broken.
It's over. Let winter freeze everything in its path.
When Satoru walks in through the door, you hesitate for a moment. A moment of madness when you see his hair, as white as the snowfall that has invaded your home. Just a moment when you see him in his burgundy turtleneck sweater, his tight-fitting coat. One single moment when you recognize the cold in his pink cheeks.
But it's all over when you meet his crystalline eyes. The fault is theirs.
"Is the window broken again?" he asks, dropping his keys on the entryway’s table.
The window has been broken since September.
You nod and he grunts, running a hand over his face.
"I'll call someone tomorrow, although you could have said something," he says. This is your fault. Of course.
You keep your eyes fixed on the snow. From the living room you can see the sidewalk across the street, covered in a blanket of white that sparkles under the street lamps. It's so painfully beautiful it makes you nostalgic.
You and Satoru moved into this house three years ago, when he got his teaching position, and you can't quite get over the fact that it's time to say goodbye.
You've spent three years of solstices here. You've seen the sidewalks covered with dead leaves, with thousands of little flowers that broke the pavement in their wake. But it’s never snowed. 
It’s not fair, not one bit.
Satoru says no more. He goes to your room and undresses; he replaces his street clothes with a black outfit that seems very appropriate for the occasion. Since you’ve known him, he always takes off his glasses when he crosses the hall of your building, but for once, you wish he'd put them back on. 
When he returns, his hair is dripping over his forehead. You hadn't even noticed that he was taking a shower. 
But he hasn't noticed that your bedside table is empty, either; that your slippers are missing, that there's a seeping coldness in the hearth of your house, and it's not coming from the window.
"What's for dinner?" he asks, plopping down on the couch with his cell phone in his hand.
You get up.
9:26 p.m., November 8. This is where it ends.
"I don't know. I'm going out to dinner," you say.
He doesn’t even bother to look up.
"Hmm, where are you going? Are you bringing something back or should I order myself a pizza?"
It's painful to watch as nothing seems to touch him. He’s infinite — always infinite.
"I'm going to a work friend's house."
"The one with the lovely curly hair and those pretty hazel eyes?"
Christ.
"No. I'm moving in with Rhea. Dark-eyed, blonde, leggy."
"Hmm, how nice."
A moment passes where he just keeps staring at the screen, and you despair.
"Satoru."
"What's up, baby?"
"I'm moving."
At last – at last – he looks up. In his eyes you see nothing; two blue marbles that have sworn you two to an unjust fate.
"You're moving out? Why?"
Where to begin? Because you have been loving a man destined to save everything and everyone for a decade, because you have been trying to fill a void that is not your size for eight years, because the windows are broken and the bed is cold and Satoru arrives several nights smelling of anisette and the perfume of another, because you don't want to live looking at the Strongest, the possessor of the Six Eyes. Because you thought that in some hidden corner Satoru Gojo was still there, and he isn’t.
"Because it's killing me to live like this.” You settle for that as your explanation and try to keep your stare unwavering.
"Like this how?" he questions, suddenly irritated. "In a luxurious house?" He gestures around him with the cell phone in his hand. "Comfortably, with your dream job? Knowing you'll never have to worry about money?"
"No, Satoru. Like this, without you loving me."
That chills him to the bone.
"Of course I love you."
"Do you? Do you want me for anything other than to warm your bed and your cock? Do you want me here, as your partner? Do you need me for anything at all?"
You don’t gesticulate, you barely move from your spot in the middle of the room. Everything in this fucking place is white and uncannily clean; the sofas, the coffee table, the walls, even the snow; but you and Satoru. He’s in all black, you’re in all red. It’s almost dreamlike, and you struggle to stay grounded. 
The only thing you could remove from this house that would grab his attention would be you.
"Yesterday you weren't complaining about any of this, what the fuck is the matter with you today?"
And you can't stand it anymore. The winter current lifts your hair, soaks the back of your neck and disguises your tears.
"THE MATTER IS THAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR TEN YEARS. WAITING FOR YOU. WAITING FOR THE MAN I MET AT SIXTEEN TO COME BACK, SLEEPING WITH A MAN OF ABSENT GAZE WHO STAGGERS INTO MY BED WHEN HE'S TIRED OF BEING IN EVERYONE ELSE'S. I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR DOG, SATORU. I DON'T WANT YOU TO COME HOME AND FEEL OBLIGATED TO GIVE ME A WALK, A PETTING."
The words come spilling out of you without remedy, every wound bursting open through the stitches. He just looks at you.
"You think I don't love you?"
It hurts to hear him say it, it fucking hurts. You were prepared for the yelling and the coldness, even for a quick vulnerable stare. But never for his trembling voice and soft frown.
You inhale deeply.
"I don't think your love is of any use to me any longer."
Satoru stands up at that.
He's tall, tall and beautiful like Michelangelo's David. All your life, you've been feeling like you had no right to touch him. His infinity assured you that was the case. 
He takes a step in your direction and whispers:
"Then what should I do now?"
Your eyes, fixed on the ground, rise to meet his. There's something in the void and you're not sure if it's just your reflection.
"What?" you mutter. 
"How do I fix it? What do you need that I can't give you? Do you want me to quit work, for us to leave, for me to come home and kiss your temple, to cook for you, to listen to you, to cherish you in bed?” A heartbeat. “I will."
There’s something about the desperation in his tone, you aren’t sure of what to say next.
Satoru knows how to lie, but you don't know how to tell the difference.
"I don't want anything, Satoru. I'm tired," you whisper back, eyes full of water. "I want it to end. I want you to let it end."
He shakes his head, frowning, and through the mist of your tears you recognize that he is crying too.
"There has to be something. Anything. Something I can do, I can do it all."
It's partly true. He's Satoru Gojo; all-powerful, all-knowing. Eternal and young and beautiful and tragic as a poem.
You are just another person. You cried when Suguru left, when Haibara died, when Kento gave up the Jujutsu world and when Ieri locked herself in her office. You clung to Satoru, who resembled an empty seashell more than a person. 
You remember those nights back in 2007. You remember blindfolding him so he wouldn't activate infinity by accident, by reflex, out of overstimulation. You remember cutting his hair when he couldn’t and looking for him in his old antics. You remember taking care of Megumi – always reluctant – and Tsumiki – who you felt was too mature for her age. You remember the burden of being eighteen and having lost a world.
And, above all else, you remember Satoru under the rain. Under the pressure of the world you had lost, the one that he was trying to put back together. There was a month where he seemed catatonic; no smiles, drinking anisette as if it were his one source of life. A thirty-day period followed by the rebirth of a person who looked like the one that stood before, but who seemed cold and alien to you.
"Don't you love me, my darling?" he seeks for you, reaching out a hand to brush against your cheek.
Of course you love him. You love him even like this, like you have loved each and every one of his versions.
"I adore you, Satoru. But I can't stay; you can't fix it."
"Of course I can," he reaches out to you, holding your face between his fingers, "Of course I can."
His lips connect with yours — one last attempt, you don't know by whom.
Snow fills the room and it's cold, but you drink from his mouth, from his everlasting warmth; everything in him lasts forever.
Between kisses, you show him everything you have been for years. Ten years of kisses, of hands looking for hands and flesh searching for flesh.
He moves backwards, keeping you between his hands and guiding you towards the hallway and from the hallway to your shared bed.
This is where it ends.
"Satoru..." you whisper.
"I'm here. I'm here, beautiful, my favorite girl. Talk to me."
A sob escapes you as he utters those words. My favorite girl. That’s what he used to call you. Talk to me, he used to plead, that year at sixteen, when everything was about to start.
Isn't it beautiful that it ends the exact same way?
"Satoru, I'm leaving," you press a farewell kiss to his jaw.
"No, you're not leaving," he murmurs, smiling against your mouth, searching for your lips.
You back away and look at him one more time. And you smile, because there's nothing left.
"I'm already gone. Just let go of me, please."
"But..." he starts, his smile hesitant, "But I'm going to fix it."
You take one of his hands between yours and kiss it as it presses against your cheek, before lowering it to your lap.
"Satoru..." You pronounce each syllable of his name carefully and he stifles a cry. "I'm not going to go any further. I've already made the move and Rhea's expecting me at her house in an hour. I love you, I’ll love you until I run out of kisses, but it does me no good to love you. It is of no use to me, this love. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you one last time. Wasn’t it my turn to be the selfish one for once?"
He watches you, and his mouth shuts close. You've never seen Satoru lose. 
No, that's not true. There was a time, one time, where you saw him lose everything.
His eyes fill up with you one second and empty the next.
This is his second time.
He lifts his chin with an arrogance that no longer means anything and lets go of your hands.
"Go then, if you want. I'm not going to do anything to stop you,” he drags the words with feign disinterest. “I can't do anything."
That's the last gift he can give you. An honesty unbecoming of him, a truth that will never belong to Satoru Gojo ever again. 
From god to human in three kisses and a goodbye.
"Thank you," you say to him. Then you get up, heading for the living room, where your coat and your escape door await you.
He stays in the bedroom – with himself as he always is – after you leave. 
And he hides you where he always hides the things he breaks, in the back of his eyes, where no one can reach to see anything.
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© 2023, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.
(reblogs are appreciated !!)
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wandasfifthwife · 2 months
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birthdays ✩‧₊˚
— hockey!wanda x fem/afab!reader
all you’ve ever known is a skipped birthday, a missed celebration. your first birthday since you’ve started dating Wanda rolls around, what would happen if she forgot it too like your mother did?
tw: HEAVY TOPICS, discussions of past trauma (physical/verbal abuse, parental neglect/control, manipulation), established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst w/ HAPPY ending, discussions of thoughts spiraling (r wonders if W loves her anymore), R’s coping style is to separate herself, NOT PROOFREAD
a/n: this is the fic that won from this poll (it “won” at whatever it was at when I checked it after my exam)
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series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.2k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list
The only time you can remember having your birthday celebrated was at school. It was the closest thing you had to a birthday anyways. The little goody bag your teacher would make and the birthday song sang to you by your classmates. Though your mother never showed up to parent lunch, or gave you presents, or even acknowledged your birthday—you still blindly thought she was a good person then.
If you had done well in school, at practice, and at home—she’d gift you with new ice skating equipment. Something she was going to give to you anyways, but tried to do it as positive reinforcement as a kid. The other positive reinforcement she gave just so you’d get in the ice? A form of alone/bonding time with her. She’d only discuss what was necessary, eyes strayed away from your own.
You were so blind to her manipulation, getting you into the sport only for her to use it as a weapon against you. There were times you enjoyed the sport, but it’s hard not to think of your mother when you enter on the rink since you’ve spent most of your childhood with her on it.
Once she got arrested and you were moved to live with your older brother—he tried to celebrate your birthday. For a few years you wanted to forget about it and you had, you never celebrated it except for your brother’s family leaving notes on your desk when you had stayed with them.
And now today was your birthday.
You had gone to bed with a slight twinge of hope in your heart that a birthday spent with your girlfriend would be different.
It was 7:43AM, in seven minutes Wanda would be reaching to turn her alarm off. You usually don’t wake up this early, used to sleeping in while Wanda left for practice, but today you couldn’t help it. You had been wondering how she’d greet you when she woke up. What a birthday would be like with someone who loved you.
She looked surprised to find you awake after she turned her alarm off, puffy eyes widening just a bit.
“Woah, what’s got you up so early?”
You smiled, “nothing.”
“Hmm,” she pressed a kiss to your forehead before throwing the sheets off of her, “I’m not complaining.”
You felt giddy almost, a childlike joy overtaking you. Would she take you to dinner? You’ve heard that’s what couples do at work. Or would she take you somewhere? Would she give you a gift?
“I have practice until later today, but I should be back tonight—like 1PM?”
“Okay,” you chirped from under the covers, excited to get another kiss from her before she wondered into the bathroom to put her hair back. It only takes her a minute, throwing her jersey on loosely and pulling her bag over her shoulder, her keys jangling as they hang out of her pocket.
“Be back later, love you.”
“Love you.”
It made your heart twinge just a bit at the fact that she got up and left without saying anything. Maybe mornings weren’t the normal time to say happy birthday yet?
You spent time doing work from home, finishing tasks your boss assigned you to do. It made time fly and before you realized it was almost 12PM. You were about to get ready for the day but stopped when you received a text from Wanda, telling you that she won’t be back until later.
That’s fine. She’s probably just picking up something. It felt selfish, all of these thoughts felt self-centered. This day shouldn’t be about you, you shouldn’t expect it, but here you are. So you put off getting ready, wanting to be freshly put together when Wanda came through the door.
1PM turned to 3PM and 3PM turned to 6PM.
You received a few texts from your phone, seeing family and a few work friends wish you a happy birthday. It mattered, but it didn’t satisfy the way your heart was breaking. She would remember, she’s not your mom—she’s above ignoring such a day.
You know she cares, so why in this moment are you beginning to question everything? Heart turning from glass to stone as you recall memories, ones usually sweet, and overthink her words and actions as hatred. Maybe this whole time shes been showing how much she dislikes you but you’ve been blind to it just like how you had been with your mother.
It was dinner time now, and you’ve seen videos on social media and heard on the grape vine that couples go out to a nice dinner on a special event, such as a birthday. This could be a surprise, maybe when she got back she’d be dressed and ready, driving you to your favorite place.
She hasn’t yet called to texted you, giving you the idea that she’s coming home soon like she said she would be. You took the time to get ready, enjoying every minute for once until you were dressed nicely. You found yourself on her couch, waiting while scrolling on your phone.
You checked back and the time read seven.
After watching TV, the time read eight.
Until nine, until ten, until your phone lit up the room with her contact information. You let it go to voicemail, not wanting to let her know about how you’re crying in front of the bathroom mirror.
It’s ugly, dry heaving cries filling the bathroom. Each one making your throat and head hurt just that much more. Your heart ached. You felt naive, stupid to believe someone would genuinely love you. Turns out on your birthday she would leave you alone.
You decide to sleep, guessing Wanda wouldn’t be back until way later at this point. You had hoped to avoid her but by stepping out of the bathroom you walked right into.
“Oh!—oh.”
You know she can see the glimmer on your cheeks, how your eyes are all puffy and bloodshot. You felt choked seeing her. She’s in a different outfit, hockey back still slung behind her like you’ve become familiar with.
“What’s wrong—?”
“Nothing,” you say, brushing past her to quickly grab the pajamas you wore this morning and shutting yourself in the bathroom again. She had apparently left to take a phone call from her dad, thankfully giving you space to calm down, collect yourself, and crawl into bed. Now lying in her bed feels weird; it doesn’t feel like home as much anymore. Fear grew in you at the thought, what if she’s going to kick you out soon? You’ve heard that happens when relationships fall apart, and the pain you felt thinking that sentence over took you.
You tried to stop the upcoming crying session, pressing your hands into your closed eyes or staring at the ceiling. You’ve had heartbreak, just not one with a relationship, it’s be a new kind of pain. Sharing intimacy with someone only for them to use you in the end.
The door creaking, signaled Wanda’s presence. She sighed seeing how you’ve turned away from her, sitting on her side to lean an arm and rest it on your thigh.
“Hey love, how are you?”
“I’m fine.”
You ignored her attempts to console you, and in a really really strange way you congratulated yourself—you weren’t able to do this with your mother and you saw how that ended up.
But oh how you wanted to turn around and hug her, hear her heart beat as you lie on her chest, feel her press a kiss to your cheek and tell you everything’s going to be okay. Once you hear her breathing even out you let out a few more tears, already missing Wanda even though she’s laying right behind you.
The next morning Wanda’s shocked for a different reason. You wake up at a normal time, but you’re complete off. She’s decided that maybe you need space, maybe something happened that you’re just keeping to yourself and will tell her later. She’s not just decided, she’s hoping because she can’t stand to see how you’ve been. You’re a shell of it. You don’t kiss her back, you’ve stopped engaging in conversation, and you barely look at her.
It’s now been two days since your birthday and Wanda’s grown increasingly worried. You’ve always climbed in bed, back facing hers for the third night in a row and it’s enough for Wanda to pull up your brother’s contact, raising her phone to her ear after hitting the call button.
“Hey, this sounds very intrusive, but has something personal happened within the family recently?”
“Uhh no—why?”
She explains how you’ve been, how sudden and drastic of a change your mood has been.
“Can you tell me what day you remember her starting to drop?”
“Two days ago.”
“I’m not going to assume you did because I fucking hope this didn’t happen. Two days ago was her birthday Wanda, is there—?”
His voice trails off as the room freezes. That’s why you were up early, full of smiles and joyful expressions. That’s why you’ve become distant, looking uncomfortable any time she expressed her love.
“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no—“ she mumbles, tears growing in her eyes, “shit—I forgot. I forgot. I don’t know how, but I did.”
“Shh, hey calm down,” your brother says over the voice, tone stern and light, “this doesn’t take away my frustration with you, but calm down—you’re not going to get anything done with a heart rate of 120. Apologize and make it up to her. You really don’t even have to do much—you can literally just get her a small gift and wished her a happy birthday and she’d be over the moon.”
“No—no, she deserves more than that.”
“She does. The intention of what I just said was to show how low the bar was set. She’s not had a ‘birthday,’ Wanda—so anything you could’ve done yesterday would’ve meant the world to her.”
“It would’ve and I’ve done nothing,” she says and he agrees.
“Yes. But I know your intentions, I know you’ve just forgotten—but she doesn’t. Just make it up for her, be intentional and loving and she’ll come back around.”
So that’s what Wanda set to do. It was late but she still left, driving in her car to the nearest cheapest store to grab decorations. It started with decorations before it moved to gifts before it moved to cake. She set out to create a basic birthday day for you.
It was a sight to wake up to, finding balloons on your ceiling and streamers hanging around her apartment. She was downstairs with your family, your brother smiling and recording you once you’ve begun to walk out from her bedroom.
“What—?”
“Happy birthday.”
You take in everything as best as you can with how your eyes have begun to grow wet, blurring your vision. It looks like the photos you searched on wiki as a kid of what a birthday decorated room looked like. Your brother continues to hold the camera poised on you, emotions overcoming him and his wife. The entire time Wanda’s been standing in the corner, growing nervous when your attention lands on her.
She’s holding her arms out wide when she saw you take a few steps towards her. You’re wrapped up so tight in her hold; your deep cries breaking her heart all the more.
She coos, “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”
“You set all this up for me—when did you have time,” you ask, voice squeaking from how sore your throat has become.
“It is all for you, I stayed up late last night to set this up.”
And her efforts didn’t go to waste. You wonder just how much money she burnt through last night seeing what she had bought. Your brother had an itinerary, moving you around to each event.
You had to stop and cry multiple times—feeling grateful and also a little bit embarrassed about being so emotional over something so minor to most people. The whole time they kept validating your feelings, full of understanding and kind words to help you get along. There was your favorite food, dessert, presents, and your favorite people.
Once your brother’s family had to leave—saying something about having to get Tyler to hockey practice since he has a game coming up soon—Wanda pulled out another gift.
“I thought of you when I saw this,” she said, taking out the necklace to place it around your neck. It had the word, “loved,” on it, diamond encrusted and small.
“Why’d you think of me?”
“The man asked me to choose out a necklace with a saying that made me think of you. I wanted you to have something that reminded you of how loved you are.”
You begin to tear up yet again, laughing dryly as you try to wipe away the tears, “I need to stop crying, I’m going to get a headache.”
“I’ll just take care of you if you do.”
“You’re so cheesy,” you laugh more, but you thank her with a squeeze to her arm.
“I’m serious though. I’m really sorry for not treating you the way you deserved on your birthday. I love you, and I’ve never been this serious about anyone before.”
“I love you too,” you say, kissing her back when she leans to kiss you; feeling like your hearts begun to be placed back together when you feel her wipe away at your tears.
series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.2k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list
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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year
Text
Delayed Gratification [Loki x Fem.Reader]
A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot/companion to Don't be Shy] A timid Loki breaks his s*x drought, with your encouragement. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Sub!Loki. Language. Dirty Talk. (w/c 2.3k)
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You pressed a thumb against the pad on your door. It beeped, making Loki flinch behind you.
“Gosh, you really are nervous.” you mumbled with a smile, hearing the rustle of Loki’s crisp shirt as he straightened.
Pouring two glasses of water, you set them the side-table next to the sofa. Loki had made himself comfortable, removing his waistcoat and sitting poised with his legs crossed.
“So how long is a long time, exactly?” you probed, sliding a hand up one muscular thigh as you settled beside him. Loki's eyes darted towards you, adjusting his hips.
“Since Asgard.” he murmured tentatively, voice catching as your fingers danced up his in-seam.
“Oh…that is a dry spell.” you cooed, an amused smile curling at your lips. How is it possible this perfect specimen hasn't been ridden in years, you thought; scepticism creeping in. It's not possible.
Loki hissed as your fingers brushed his hardening cock, feeling the trapped monster grow thick beneath your gentle touch. His knuckles whitened under the crushing grip on the armrest.
Or maybe it is, you pondered with a smile.
“If you don't mind me asking...why is that?” you said, gaze crawling over his twitching brow. "I find it hard to believe you don't have a lot of opportunity-"
“Hardly-” he gasped, ass clenching before he bit his lip. Even with this achingly light level of touch, it was almost too much for him to bear. That was plain to see.
“I just...have a h-hard time letting loo-se, you see.” he stammered, his grip making the armrest creak in protest.
You squeezed again, making Loki’s eyelids flutter shut.
He whimpered, a series of shallow pants wisping from his throat. “I can stop?” you whispered, trailing your free hand over your cleavage. His eyes shot open, afire with sudden fear. “-No.” he choked, looking longingly to the fingers grazing the curve of your breasts. “For the love of the Nine...don’t stop.”
A secret smile pressed against your cheeks as you stood and intertwined your fingers with his. “Come with me.” you said firmly, nerves sizzling as Loki let out a long exhale before unfurling himself to his full height. You walked slowly ahead of him to the bedroom, circling behind and pushing the shy god gently to the mattress.
He began to yank at his windsor knot, before pausing. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to be presumptuous.”
The words were accompanied by a penitent flutter of his lashes. You chuckled. “Loki, you’re sitting on my bed. If you had any idea how wet I am right now…” you groaned, straddling him and sliding your hands firmly over his shoulders.
Loki’s legs widened as the soaking gusset of your panties grazed the hard shaft pressed against his thigh. He swallowed thickly as you began to place messy sucks on his exposed neck, whipping the tie from his collar.
“S-slow...slower.” he panted, breaths quick. Surfacing from stiff cotton, you rose on your knees; tugging his hair back as you descended with a licentious kiss. You could feel his chest heaving beneath your own, the tell-tale thrust of his hips against your core sloppy and needy and desperate.
Loki broke for air, his eyes wild. Your lips curled in a coquettish smile. “Maybe we should start gently, hmm?” you said, seeing Loki nod. “I think that’s...wise.” he muttered, a thin sheen of moisture forming on his brow. Your knees shuffled backwards, lowering yourself to the carpet between his legs and pulling your dress over your head.
“Do you mind taking these off?” you asked gently, pulling at the fabric tight against his thigh. Loki’s gaze refocused from the lingerie cupping your curves, his mouth forming a soft O.
“Of- of...of course. Apologies.” he fumbled, before a shimmer of his magic dissolved the luxurious suit trousers from his body. And his underwear, too. “You don’t have to...do...that, you know.” he mumbled.
You didn’t need to look at him to know the pink tinge in his cheeks was back with renewed force.
Loki’s cock rose between his spread thighs. It was long, pale and utterly perfect. Just as you knew it would be. You curled your fingers lightly around the thick base, making Loki’s hips jolt. Your thumb didn’t reach around the circumference.
“Just breathe…” you murmured, hearing his frantic breaths slow at the command. Your finger caressed up the length, making tingles soar on the surface of his neglected velvet skin. “This should be worshipped, Loki.” you muttered absent-mindedly as you inspected it with awe, hearing him chuckle before you lifted your gaze seductively to meet his. “So let’s make a start on that, shall we?”
His palms rested on your duvet, fingers spread. You could see him slide them into a tight grip, neat fingernails scratching against the fabric as he inhaled sharply, bracing himself. You leant forward, extending your tongue so that only the lightest of licks trailed from the base of his shaft to the tip.
Loki’s moan was raw dynamite, a long ragged sigh that made your thighs squeeze together. He tasted like freshly washed linen, the scent of clean cotton lingering in your nostrils. Unspoilt. Virginal.
You parted your lips, tongue sliding in messy kisses against the meat of his cock. The base of your palm held his length steady, perfectly vertical as his hips rocked upwards.
“F-ffuck..det er f-for godt-” he moaned under his breath, sliding a hand against the back of your head before retracting. Seizing his moment of resistance, you lapped tortuously slowly over the leaking tip. Loki shuddered as he watched the glistening bead of pre-cum that had been trembling there disappear beneath you eager attentions.
“M-more...please.” he stammered, forearms quivering as he braced against the bed. You tilted your chin up to face him, nestled between his thick thighs. “Are you sure?” you said coyly. Loki nodded, shallow breaths making his chest strain against the buttons of his shirt. You pressed your lips together, arching a brow before you descended and swallowed the tip of his cock.
A strangled whine rumbled from the god as you sucked gently, the fingers curled around his base pulsing with each smooth lap of your tongue. You could feel Loki brace against the bed, his fingertips digging into the mattress as his thighs began to shake. And you were barely touching him.
“Det føles for godt…” he groaned, toes curling against the carpet. “F-fuck...im nær...im n-nær-” he growled through gasping breaths. “S-stop.”
You released him, a strand of saliva hanging in a teasing curve between his foreskin and your lips. Loki’s addled stare rolled blissfully along the spittal’s route, landing on your glistening mouth.
“Fuck.” he murmured reluctantly, shaking his head as his eyes darted to the side. “I should not have led you on. This is...not my usual- not my typical performance I-”
You pressed a finger to his lips. “I think it’s hot.” you purred, making his eyebrows slant with surprise. “Really hot.”
Rising to your feet, you tugged down your panties before sliding onto Loki’s lap once more. The thump of arousal between your legs was untenable, the messy slick of your sex crying for relief against his naked thighs. “Just go with it.” you keened in his ear, rolling your hips against the base of the cock sandwiched between you. His breath hitched, fingertips sinking into the curve of your waist. “We can make it a little game.”
“A game?” Loki chirped, interest piqued. “I like games.”
“I know you do.” you hummed encouragingly, sucking his earlobe between your teeth. Loki hissed, a growl building in his chest as you began to unbutton his shirt. “Is this what you thought of as you fucked yourself thinking of me?” you said, feeling his stomach clench beneath your searching hands.
He cleared his throat, back straightening.
“I must confess I was rather more...dominant.” he admitted sheepishly, avoiding your seductive stare. He observed as your fingers made quick work of the buttons, ebony hair falling sluttishly around his jaw. “Dominant?” you teased approvingly. “Why do I get the feeling you made me call you Daddy?”
“Oh, I insist on it.” he joked, before you stripped back the shirt from his shoulders.
The god’s jaw clenched as you pushed the cuffs from his wrists; coaxing him backwards. “Norns…” he gasped, muscular back hitting the mattress with a soft thump. You took a moment to savour the god stretched like an shy whore on your king bed, his soft eyes wide with nervous anticipation. You smiled, crawling slowly up his long body.
“Trust me, Loki…” you said softly, the lust in your voice simmering as the thick veins in his throat hardened. “We’ll ease you back in, don’t worry.”
He opened his mouth to speak, before his eyes fluttered shut. Loki’s back arched as you ground your bare pussy against his length. You slid easily back and forth, dragging through your slick folds. The soft mewls of grateful submission from his lips made your nipples harden.
“You should be fucked every day, Loki Laufeyson.” you slurred, feeling his cock twitch against your cunt. “Every. Fucking. Day.”
Loki huffed in frustration, bucking upwards. The scent of you. The promise of your wetness. It must be driving him crazy.
“Ride me. Please-fuck me, I can’t take it anymore.” he growled, tilting his chin against his chest as your cleavage hung tantalisingly in front of him. His nose slotted between your mounds, a shuddering sigh shaking his body as he lost himself.
"Patience, Laufeyson...” you giggled, hearing a muffled whine against your skin. “A little delayed gratification never hurt anyone. Much less a god...”
You reached between his legs, hovering above his hips as you lined him up. The wide tip of his cock nudged against your slit, his forehead creasing as he tried to restrain himself with a quaking sigh. Loki’s lips formed a stoic line, eyebrows knitting slowly together as you squeezed the thick head inside your cunt.
With every inch you sank, his lips parted further; the skin sticking as he exhaled a ragged, primal gasp of relief.
“I...I...uhh-hh-gods.” he rasped, fingertips sinking into the soft thighs spread against him. You stilled, the head of his cock buried to the hilt. You squeezed.
Loki jolted on the bed, hair fanning in wild tendrils as he clenched his jaw to the ceiling. “I had forgotten.” he moaned through gritted teeth, grunting as you began to roll your hips in miniscule waves. “I had f-forgotten...faen.”
Your clit tugged against his public mound as you rocked slowly to and fro, minimising your movements.
Loki whimpered, brows twitching as he watched you relax into bliss above him; his thick girth stretching your walls as you gyrated. “This feels so good, Loki…” you groaned, letting your head fall back as his legs tensed beneath. The god's feet slid up the bed behind you - knees parking bent at your sides. Tears had begun to form in his eyes.
“Norns.” he gasped quietly, resting his hands on your hips and guiding you carefully back and forth. Like you might break. The needy touch was the final spark, lighting the trail of gasoline to climax like a match.
Your swollen clit pulsed with every slow tug against his neat pubic hair, the solid mass of his cock making you whimper. “I’m going to cum, baby…” you mewled, making Loki’s fingers dig deeper. A solitary tear of desperation rolled down his cheekbone, disappearing to the curve.
He thrust upwards once. A broken cry of pleasure from his throat sent shivers down your spine. It sounded like pain. But it wasn't pain. Far from it.
Your palms pressed against his shoulders, limiting his movement. “Not yet.” you choked, increasing the pace of your rolling hips against his base.
“You’re so...fucking...tight.” Loki breathed, ragged pants filling the air as you rocked into him, orgasm blossoming like a wall of fire. His voice was thick, wet with pure lust. “You feel s-so-uhhh, so divi-divine I-” he stammered, choking as he felt your fingernails dig deep into the ropes of shoulder muscle.
“Now, Loki.” you whined, releasing your hands from his biceps and gripping the brass railings above his head. You slid up his cock, squeezing at the tip before sinking into the god’s sloppy thrust. His eyes were suddenly wild, torn between savouring every inch of your sex-drunk body and becoming lost in his own pleasure beneath the veil of his eyelids. An animal released from the cage.
He tugged your hips towards him, beginning to bounce you on his slippery cock. Nordic curses dripped from his lips like battle cries, a vein by his temple thick to bursting against the furious weight of his basest needs. Every slap of his skin against your fizzing clit sent jolts through your body, the power of raw animalism coursing from his sex to yours.
“Let it go-” you gasped, throwing your head back as you felt an explosion of pleasure surge in your belly. “Don’t be s-shy oh my god, - oh my, uhhh...f-fuck...scream for me, -L-Loki.”
Loki slammed your pussy a final time to the hilt, before a roar of utter devastation exploded from his throat.
Tendrils of damp hair cascaded over his brow as his back arched, errant strands across his lips blown by a feral moan of your name. You could feel the force of hot cum hit your cervix, leaking into every crevice of your stuffed slit as his messy thrusts slowed.
Loki’s eyes had squeezed shut, deep lines ironed into his forehead as he murmured panting praises you didn’t understand.
He lay there silently, breaths slowing. “Was that OK?” you whispered, flickers of sudden insecurity rearing in your mind. There was no answer. "Loki?" You leant forwards, clenching around his cock as you rested against his chest. Loki nodded, humming blissfully with his eyes still closed.
“Truly... I am lost for words.” he slurred, running a large palm down your spine and planting a light, congratulatory smack on your ass.
You felt a wave of pride rise in your belly. “There’s a first time for everything.” you teased, making Loki open one eye with difficulty. “How dare you.” he growled.
In a second, he had flipped you over; pinning you to the bed with his fingers curled around your wrists. “Not so shy anymore, then?” you giggled, feigning a feeble attempt to escape from his grasp.
“Thanks to you, it seems my drought is over-” he purred, spreading your legs with a nudge of his knees.
“And darling?” he smouldered, damp curls clinging to his cheekbones as his eyes darkened. “Daddy’s very thirsty.”
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Det er for godt – it’s too good. Det føles for godt – it feels too good im nær – I’m close
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queers-gambit · 2 years
Text
Distraction
[ series masterlist ]
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prompt: at a rare family dinner, you have news for your husband.
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
fandom: House of the Dragon
word count: 5.9k+
note: i didn't want to like him but the pirate baby war criminal does something to me.
warnings: cursing, spoilers, Aemond being a little shit, basically the dinner scene with Aemond's wife. canon-level incest (?) and dialogue. not edited!! ❗️major season one, episode eight spoilers
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"How's this?" You asked Amira, your handmaiden, showing her the sixth dress you've tried on. You observed all angles of yourself in the mirror, smoothing over the material of your dress in worry.
"I like it better," she nodded, admiring your figure. "And you can't even tell you're hiding - "
"Mira," you warned, sighing sharply.
"When are you going to tell him, my Lady?" She demanded, helping you into your shoes as you fixed jewelry around your neck, wrist, ears, and fingers. "It's killing me!" She whined lowly.
"Soon, Mira," you rolled your eyes.
"You've been saying that for a month, and now you're starting to show!" She snipped, hands on her hips. "He's not stupid - "
"He's been distracted as of late," your eyes rolled. "He is not paying attention to me right now, I've time to think."
"I beg to differ, but sure, let's be ignorant."
"Mira," you sighed, or more like whined. Your head tilted back and you sighed sadly, pinning her with an exasperated look.
"I'm being honest, Princess, and I'm telling you the Prince absolutely adores you. How he's not noticed yet is beyond me."
You sheepishly admitted, "I might've... Lied a wee bit."
"And said what?"
"I was bloated from bad fish and my cycle," you shrugged. "He doesn't know much different, and he's been coming to bed in exhaustion that he doesn't much stay awake to notice my growing figure."
"Well," she sighed, hands slapping her thighs as she shrugged with defeat, "this dress hides everything better, it fits nice. It's a winner for tonight's dinner... Just - "
"Don't eat too much," You ended for her, smirking. "I know... I know."
"You should just tell him, Princess. Rid us of this game, please."
"I will..."
"He has the right to know," she whispered.
"He will - just once I figure out what to do."
"What do you - "
"Once I figure out how to be okay with this," you sighed sadly. "Look... I just... Aemond doesn't seemed thrilled by the idea of being a father but his mother insisted on lineage. He only did his duty," you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers as emotion caught in your throat, "and I'm nervous to tell him, because... T-Then it's over."
"What's over?" Amira asked softly.
"The marriage," you sniffled, "the bliss, the partnership. I just become a cast-aside-milk-machine."
"You know the Prince would never - "
"Truthfully, Mira, we don't know," you cut her off sadly, "because nobody can predict what Aemond will say or do next."
"He wants to be a father," Mira nodded, but both of you froze when a new voice asked from the doorway,
"Who wants to be a father?"
Recognizing your husband's voice, Mira was swift to answer when you froze in fear, "My husband's brother. He's trying for a baby with his wife and I was telling the Princess how excited he is because he really wants to be a father."
"Hmm," Aemond considered a moment, stepping into the room in-full and letting the door close softly behind him. "Well, speaking of my dear wife, are you almost ready, love? We've dinner arrangements."
His eye raked over your form and when he settled on your face, he smirked with mischief. Gulping from the flush of heat his gaze brought, you glanced at Mira before affirming, "I'm ready, my Prince Ameond."
His brow furrowed as Mira showed herself out, Ameond asking, "Since when do you address me so formally, my love?"
"Oh, well, just - you know, we're going to have dinner with your whole family, Ameond, I just wanted to remember formalities and, you know, my place..."
"Your place," he reaffirmed as he reached for you, "is at my side, sweet girl. You worry for nought, my family adores you."
You sighed lightly, "As if you gave them a choice but only to accept me."
His smirked broadened, "You're right - I gave them none. Come, you're worrying yourself silly. It's nothing, my sweet girl, Father called for this dinner to celebrate us being together."
"Might you promise me something, then?"
Aemond sighed, "You know I cannot break promises to you."
"Exactly," you smirked lightly, feeling his arms tighten around your waist to keep you pressed to his front. You worried he'd feel the small curve of your belly, but distracted him by asking, "Do not antagonize anyone while your King Father is present, my love, please. He's old, he's sick, let us grant his wish of having a meal together - in harmony, in peace..."
He sighed again, letting his eye shoot over your face as you pouted lightly. "All right, my love," he agreed, "I will behave myself while Father is present."
"Thank you," you whispered, thinking that was the end of it. Your Lord husband smiled and took your hand to tangle his fingers with yours, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.
"Shall we, my love?" He muttered softly.
"Hmm," you hummed, kissing him again. "All right, yeah, let us go. Shouldn't keep the family waiting."
He smirked, "Come."
Aemond liked keeping you close, moving from your shared rooms and down the halls to reach the private dining room the Royal Family was to take their meal in tonight. Upon entering, you discovered the fires ablaze and torches set to provide ample lighting, making you smile as the room was the perfect temperature for your pregnant, flushed-flesh.
As custom dictates, you bowed to the Queen Mother first; greeting the Hand of the King after, then with similar bows, greeted the crowned heir to the Iron Throne, your birth mother, Princess Rhaenyra. You gaze shifted to your mother's husband, the Prince Daemon, your step-father, and offered him a polite greeting. Truth of it was that you were always cautious of Daemon, and the way he looked at you was hard to decipher; never knowing if he even liked you or not. You skin was toned down from your father's, the late Lord Laenor Velaryon, but your hair was as bright as your mother and father's, and all who shared your blood.
Your marriage to Aemond was a bid for peace after your younger brother, Jace, took the young Aemond's eye about 6-7 years prior. To placate tension, your hand was offered only 2 years ago, and it turned out to be a surprising love-match. You and Aemond grew closer after the years apart, and though you tried to understand all sides of the situation, you knew the truth behind the loss of his eye, and only tried to offer comfort for your husband on day's he became overwhelmingly insecure.
You loved your family, but you loved the man you shared your life with now and did your best to keep the peace.
You greeted your brothers and cousins before looking back at your mother, who grinned in excitement.
Your mother breathed your name and stood from her seat, making you match her excitement as you let go of Aemond's hand to hug her tightly. "Mother," you gasped into the tight embrace. "Oh, how you glow! Pregnancy has always agreed with you. How are you feeling?"
"I'm well, my sweet love," Rhaenyra nodded, pulling away to gently pet a stray hair from your forehead. "Your hair's grown so much in these years."
"Do you like it?"
"You look beautiful, my love, I adore it," she promised, squeezing your hand. "How are you fairing?" She glanced over your shoulder to your husband - who was greeting his own siblings.
"I am doing well, Mother, you do not need worry," you assured. "Aemond is good and kind to me, I promise. I have known only love and warmth from him, and I feel I should both apologize to you for protesting the arrangement, and then thank you for it..." She smiled fondly, caressing your jaw and chin. "It has worked out better than I ever could imagine."
"I am delighted to hear it," your mother spoke with so much love and kindness that a light sheen of tears coated your eyes. "You look well, love," she sighed lightly, petting over your long hair. "You know I miss you daily, my sweet girl. It is not the same without you."
"I miss you, too," you swore. "More than words..."
She sighed, "Well, go on, we should find our seats..."
"We'll talk again soon," you assured softly, giving her hands another squeeze before breaking apart. You nodded to her husband, "Prince Daemon."
"Princess," he nodded back, watching you move around the table to snag Aemond's hand in yours, and together, the two of you made it to your seats at the head of the table. Aemond pulled your chair out and let you sit before taking his seat between you and his grandsire, leaving you between him and his sister, the Princess Helaena.
"Good evening," Otto muttered to you, nodding with a soft smile. "You look beautiful, Princess."
"Thank you, my Lord," you smiled. "You look well yourself. And you, Princess," you directed at Helaena, "that dress befits you."
"Thank you, my Lady," she smiled, "you're glowing... In this light," she spoke with a knowing twinkle in her eye.
"Love?" Aemond muttered, a servant holding a goblet. "Would you like wine tonight?"
"Oh, please," You accepted, Aemond taking the goblet to pass along to you. "Thank you, sweetheart."
"Hm," he acknowledged with a small smirk, raising his own to his lips as he observed the whole of the table and slowly turned in his chair to crowd into you. "Say the word, love, and we'll leave..."
"We're fine," You assured in a soft whisper, bowing your head to speak in his ear. "You are on edge, my Prince."
You could almost physically feel his nerves.
"With reason," he sighed, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck. "Aegon wants a word, my love. I'll be a moment."
"Go on," you sighed, smiling with a nod as he stood from his seat; leaving you with a parting kiss on the top of your head. The table was still being dressed for dinner and the Targaryen-Hightower families all sat around as they all waited for the King to arrive. Aemond and Aegon stood for their conversation at the corner of the table, leaving Helaena to rise to her knees in her chair; giggling with you over whatever riddles plagued her mind in that moment. Otto smiled as he watched you two for a moment.
From your place, you could feel the tension from Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra, knowing all of their feud from your limited years at court prior to tonight. When the doors opened and a procession of Kings Guard was seen, you all pushed from your wooden chairs to stand for the King's arrival; your husband reaching for your waist to stand together as a united front. Aemond always took your union very seriously as your birth appearance only left room for rumors to fester about your brother's lineage, and Aemond took immense pride in calling you wife.
You, who had the color of your father's skin, and the hair color of your mother; you, who was a highly desired prize to the courts; you, who was desired over others, and looked at only as a trophy - but being that you wed a man who had known you your whole life, he treated you as much more. You were proud of your marriage, and stood tall at his side.
The King was carried in a chair that would double as his seat for the evening meal, requiring a set of guards to carry him up to the table before being lowered.
When everyone was allowed to reclaim their seat, Aemond held a hand to the servant boy who meant to push your chair in; smirking at you as he took the liberty himself. Say what you wanted about the lad, but his mother raised him right...
Much could not be said for his brother, but Aegon was not your worry.
Aemond took his seat after, letting his hand drift to your thigh in invitation; smirking again when both your hands tangled with his. You noticed both of your brothers now sat with their betrothed, who were Daemon's daughters with your Aunt Laena - who passed seemingly only days before your father. Both tragedies left your mother, Rhaenyra, and uncle (?) Daemon available to marry, and you remember standing on your ancestral home of Dragonstone, watching the Old Valyrian customs come to life as they wed.
A beautiful ceremony in truth.
Around the table, all members of the Targaryen-Velaryon-Hightower family claimed their seats as King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, was set down at the large gap separating your mother and step-mother...
How odd to think about the relations around this table.
As the guards retreated, Viserys croaked, "How good it is... To see you all tonight... Together."
You smiled at Aemond and let your head fall into the crook of his neck when he glanced at you; his arm readjusting to better hold your hand, both attentively listening to the King's words, but not before his chin caressed the top of your head when he returned your brief show of affection.
The tension at the table was nearly palpable, leaving Alicent to ask her husband, "Prayer before we begin?"
"Yes," Viserys agreed.
Everyone took proper prayer form, you glancing at your seemingly confused mother for a moment before to your lap as Alicent lead the prayer: "May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith men the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the Gods give him rest."
You ignored the under-breath huffy responses to Queen Alicent wishing for rest upon a man slain in court today, nodding when the prayer was over and lifting your head to reclaim your husband's hand in your own. Viserys continued, "This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our Houses." You nudged Aemond gently when you saw him staring at Jace with unnerve. "A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed!"
"Hear, hear," Daemon mocked as he took up his goblet, your husband spying your smirk of amusement.
And though he lowered his voice so his father did not hear, Aegon's words reached your own ears as he muttered to your brother, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."
Jace let his goblet set to the table forcefully, catching your eyes as you subtly shook your head at him. He ignored Prince Aegon's antagonizing words.
"Let us toast, as well, Prince Lucerys... The future Lord of the Tides."
"Hear, hear," his future sister-cousin toasted with a soft smirk.
"You'll be great," his cousin-fiancé assured.
"Love," you reprimanded softly, catching his stare again. He only sighed at you as Aegon was turning to Jace again.
"You do know how the act is done, I assume? As least, in principle? Where to put your cock and all that?"
"Let it be, cousin."
"You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed," Jace defended, keeping his voice low so the adults would not hear him.
"Hmm," Aegon sighed, nodding once before sitting forward in his seat. You sighed to yourself, feeling Aemond's hand stroking over the meat of your inner thigh and leaning into his arm slightly.
But all came to a stand-still when Viserys grunted and stood uneasily to his feet, leaning forward on the table to hold himself up. His words were spoken between huffs of breath, "It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table." He looked around with meaning, "The faces most dear to me in all the world... Yet grown so distant from each other... In the years past."
Aemond blinked once, then twice, and lowered his gaze to the table before looking down at you. You offered a silent smile and pet over his hand. But both of your smiles dropped when you looked up again, watching Viserys reach for the latch that kept the golden facemask in place; realizing his intention. You were used to Aemond's injury and scar, but the King's was something else entirely, and with your pregnancy stomach - you were unsure how you would react seeing it.
Aemond's hand squeezed yours when the King dropped his mask and gave a front-row-viewing to his decaying face. Aegon and Helaena refused to look, their eyes set to the table as Viserys looked around; Rhaenyra seeing the extent of his illness, and how his children could not look at him for longer than a few seconds.
Viserys continued, "My own face... Is no longer a handsome one," he snorted lightly at his own joke, "if indeed it ever was. But tonight... I wish you to see me... As I am." Otto watched the King directly, boldly, and your eyes could only handle small glances, focusing on the way Aemond was distracting you with his fingers running up and down your thigh in your lap. "Not just a King," Viserys continued through haggard breathing, "But your Father!" He turned his eye to Daemon, spitting, "Your brother!" His head turned to Alicent, "Your husband." And then he looked to the middle of the table, "Your grandsire. Who may not, it seems... Walk for much longer among you." He slammed the gold mask to punctuate his point, all eyes staring at him now. "Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances." You felt emotion swell in your chest as Aemond's hand paused to squeeze your hand. "If not for the sake of the crown... Then for the sake of this old man! Who loves you all so dearly!"
He panted in exhaustion as he fell back into his seat with Alicent's aid; fixing the mask back over the decaying half of his face. Suddenly, your mother, Rhaenyra, was shooting up from her seat with her goblet in hand; making you sit up straighter almost subconsciously. Aemond fought off his knowing smirk as he watched your mother hold her goblet with intention.
After a moment, the crowned Princess spoke, "I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen." When Alicent had helped secure the gold mask, she looked up in curiosity. "I love my father," she continued to Alicent. "But I must admit that no one has stood... More loyally by his side than his good wife." After a meaningful look, your mother spoke to the rest of the table, "She has tended to him with... Unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude... And my apology."
When your mother's eyes caught your own as she sat down, you nodded with your own toast, "To the Queen Mother."
The others echoed your words and took their obligatory sip of wine, watching Alicent accept your mother's words. "Your graciousness move me deeply, Princess." Daemon sat forward at the Queen's words, your mother watching her as your own husband seemingly stilled to watch the tense exchange. "We are both mothers... And we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." Your mother accepted her words, in turn; and the Queen Alicent Hightower stood to her feet, and hoisted her cup high, "I raise my cup to you and to your House." After a moment, she ended, "You will make a fine Queen."
You smirked gently as your mother fought off her emotion, raising your cup again to call, "To Princess Rhaenyra, our future Queen!"
The rest of the table followed suit, and with King Viserys, took their gulps of wine. Aemond smirked and pecked your temple, earning your attention for you to grin at him - feeling as if this was a perfect moment to announce to your husband and family that you were pregnant. But his attention drifted when his brother drained his goblet, cleared his throat, and stood from his seat.
He sighed and kept close watch as you silently turned your attention as well. Aemond knew better than anyone how protective you were of your brothers, and though you shared different traits in appearance, they were still your blood, and you, and your gorgeous green dragon, Kasta, would defend them until your death day.
You could not make out the words Aegon was muttering to your cousin, but you knew the lad liked to instigate; his farce of pouring himself a new goblet of wine only getting him so far.
Whatever was said upset the Prince enough for his hands to bang on the table as he stood; Aegon's smirk assuring you he meant for this reaction. "Jace," you heard Rhaena try to intercede.
But as Aegon made for his seat, your husband stood to his feet, and stared Jace down as if in challenge to say anything. The table all stilled, and even Viserys, who had witnessed your husband ferocity, waited with held breath. "My love," you whispered, reaching for Aemond's sleeve to give a simple tug. "You promised," you reminded softly, begging him to sit down again. But when his fist formed, you stood from your seat to press into his side, whispering urgently, "Aemond, please, do not do this, I am begging you."
His arm slithered around you to keep you at his side as Jace only pounded his fist into Aegon's shoulder in a show of good faith; noting the way Aemond went rigid even under your soothing touch.
Jace toasted with his own goblet, "To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years," Jace glanced from Luke to you and Aemond, "but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And it is obvious the love, devotion, and respect you show my sister - and for that, I give both gratitude and thanks." He paused to look at Aegon, who looked sour at the show of responsibility and educated-tongue. "And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your families good health, dear uncles. Or, should I say, dear uncle, and brother," he smiled at you after, seeing you return it with all-teeth.
But when Aemond's hand tightened on your waist in anger, you whispered again with urgency, "Please, let it go."
Behind you, Jace had gripped Aegon's shoulder, giving a tight squeeze, before another friendly fist pound - making the Prince reply tightly, "To you as well."
"A moment," you called, making Aemond pause in his descent to his chair, and prayed you could cause reason to smile again, "because I'd like to toast my good and loving husband." He offered you a solemn smile, but cocked his head in confusion. "And... I'd like to take this moment, before our families, to share the good news..."
"Love," Aemond whispered in shock, Alicent perking up as Otto did. "You speak what I think you do?"
You nodded, glancing at the table, but telling Aemond, "I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby, the Seven's heard us at last, my Prince."
There was a round of cheers and applause as Aemond breathed in relief and pulled you in, letting both his hands caress your cheeks as he kissed you tenderly. "Truly?" He muttered, making tears brim your waterline.
"Yes," you confirmed, feeling one of his hands drop to press against you gently swelling womb. "Just a bit over three months in."
He laughed and pulled you in for a proper hug, the table sending their congratulations to you both - and you foolishly thought you were successful in distracting Aemond enough. You took your seats again, him fully turned to keep his arms around you, as the family all muttered in good tidings.
But above them, you could hear Helaena mutter, "Beware the beast beneath the boards."
You didn't get to question it because you were leaning over to give Otto's hand a squeeze - thanking him for his good tidings. Your mother caught your eye after, giving you a bright and happy grin; silently toasting to you, making you return the motion and take a sip.
Thinking you had ended the toasts for the evening, imagine the surprise when Helaena, a usually quiet girl, stood from her seat as if it burned her. Aemond and you both paused to look up, listening as she spoke, "I would like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. 'Tisn't so bad," she assured sincerely. "Mostly, he just ignores you..." Then, a thought came to her, "Except sometimes when he's drunk."
You honestly didn't mean to, but you laughed a little - eyes widening as you look at Aemond with your hand over your mouth. But he chuckled, too; and dare you say it, but you swore Otto let out a singular chuckle to his granddaughter's words. In fact, you knew he did, when Helaena found her seat again and he nodded at her, muttering, "Good."
"Let us have some music," Viserys spoke, and a moment later, the live musicians struck a tune. Curiosity burned in your gut when Jace stood from his seat, muttered to his fiancé, and then stepped around the table to approach Helaena with an offered hand.
"Jace," You warned your brother when he halted beside you; watching as Aegon could not tear his sights away from his wife as she accepted, and let the Prince lead her to a small clearing for a dance.
Aegon turned and shared a hardened look with his brother. Aemond let his chair push back some to give him a proper view of his surroundings, taking your hand, and encouraging you closer. You sighed with mild worry, muttering, "Won't you eat something, my love? Please?"
He hummed, tearing his gaze back to you. "No, sweet girl, you go on. Eating for two now, aren't you?"
You sighed lightly, "W-Was this alright?"
"What?"
"Telling you here?" You wondered, genuine fear flooding your chest.
Aemond sighed and leaned forward to crowd into you again, despite the head of the table posing with natural privacy. "My love... This is," he sighed lightly and took your hands in his, meeting your gaze, "The best news you could've given me - in any way. But in front of our families? That is special, indeed," he smirked some, leaning in to press a linger kiss to your forehead. "Worry not, sweet wife, for this is joyous news. I am just..."
"Uneasy?" You filled in with a frown. "I know this family likes to push buttons but please do not say or do anything - not with the King here, my love."
"I know," he assured softly, "I made you a promise, I will not break it."
You nodded in response, letting his lips meet yours for a slow kiss, his nose nuzzling against yours before he leaned back in his chair - nodding at your plate to silently encourage you to take another bite.
Some minutes passed and after laughing with Otto over something silly, you caught your husband's gaze again. You offered him a small look before leaning in, making him sit up and bow his head to hear your words, "You're staring again."
He chuckled, "Perhaps I am enjoying the view."
"Oh, of me eating, is it?"
"Of my beautiful wife, yes," he smirked, leaning back again, and leaving you to get sucked back into whatever was being spoken of now. You did not notice how the King gazed fondly at you all, taking note of his gathered family, until he was wincing and moaning in pain.
Slowing your chewing, you watched silently as Alicent called for the guards, and Viserys was then being pulled away, and carried away from the table. You stood with respect as he was dismissed, Aemond's hands smoothing over your waist to guide you back into your seat - a moment before he did the same.
Aemond sat at an angle, not eating, and leaving place at the table before him for the servants to raise and set a roasted pig before him. You eyed it wearily, knowing of the torment your brothers and Aegon put Aemond through for being dragonless in his youth, and tried not to think further of it. You reached to lay your hand on Aemond's knee in comfort, just placing your next bite to your mouth as Luke's snickering amusement enraged Aemond.
"Don't," you gasped after you swallowed when you noted the way his entire body turned to regard your younger brother; sighing in defeat when Aemond's fist rapidly pounded into the table's top as he climbed to his feet and swiftly picked up his goblet.
"Final tribute," Aemond proposed, ignoring the way you sighed and remained still in your seat. When the hall quieted and turned their attention to him, Aemond continued, "To the health of my nephews: Jace," he looked to the boy still-standing, "Luke," his sights turned to your brother that slashed his eye from its socket, "and Joffrey. Each of them handsome," your eyes met Alicent's, as if anticipating his words, "wise..." He paused, the tension brewing to a new height.
"Love, please," you whispered, watching him nod silently, and then finish,
"Strong."
"Aemond," his mother tried, but was ignored.
"Come!" Aemond barked as you slowly stood to your feet out of worry; his arm extending to wrap around you and settle you on his other side - as if to protect you. "With my sweet wife, let us drain our cups to these three..." Aegon rose his goblet with enthusiasm, ever the one to hide behind his brother's brute, words, and strength, "Strong boys."
"I dare you to say that again," Jace barked.
"Why?" Aemond instigated as his head snapped to look at your brother, you sharing a look of unease with Alicent. "'Twas only a compliment." He let go of you as Jace started forward, turning instantly to meet him. "Do you not think yourself Strong?"
Luke stood in anger as Aegon met him, Jace launching his fist into Aemond's jaw - making you wince slightly upon the impact, and making you call your brother's name in protest. You felt Otto raise to his feet and pull you back from the fray, as Aegon smashed Luke's head to the table. "THAT IS ENOUGH!" Alicent raged.
Seemingly unfazed by the fist to his face, Aemond smirked at Jace before pushing the younger boy back off his feet. He sprung up with a growl - making two guards lunge forward to restrain him - as your husband turned with a broad grin and his goblet, still in hand.
Jace and Luke were both restrained as you freed yourself from Otto's grasp to reach for your husband, who sat his goblet down in order to hold onto you. "What was that? Huh? You lost your mind finally?" You demanded in disappointment, hearing your brothers still growling and grunting with effort to free themselves.
Alicent descended upon you two, demanding in a lowered tone, "Why would you say such a thing before these people!?"
"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother," Aemond rounded on her, one arm still tight around your waist. "Mm," he considered, raising his voice as he let go of you to turn, "though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."
Jace broke free and charged forward as Daemon barked, "Wait, wait!" With a silent finger held, he stalked between the two Princes; easing Jace backwards without uttering a word. When the boy was back by his brother and both of their betrothed, your mother was demanding of them, "Go to your quarters. All of you go, now."
Daemon turned and settled his sights on Aemond, making the hair on your neck stand on end with worry as you held your husband's hand tightly - as if it would keep him at bay. Your step-father came to a halt and sighed, still staring at Aemond, and you knew that just because your husband was unhinged, didn't mean you were, and Daemon genuinely made you nervous. He was undefeated and rumor of his win in the Stepstones was told to you directly by your father, who bore witness to the Rogue Prince taking the entire beach by himself.
Daemon was not someone you were eager to cross, but your husband loved a good challenge - and by the look in both man's eye, you knew they had met their matches.
Aemond sized Daemon up for a moment before your hand tightened in his, begging quietly, "Can we go, please?"
He hummed in response and tightened his hand in yours, leading you past your mother and step-father, but pausing when Rhaenyra spoke your name. Your mother reached for you, smiling, "Congratulations, my sweet girl. You'll make a beautiful mother."
"Thank you," you whispered to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, and whisper, "I'm so sorry."
She winked at you in return, letting Aemond take your hand again and lead you onward into the torch-lined hallway. You sighed when you pushed from the room, leading in the other direction of the guest rooms, meaning, you did not have to worry about running into your brothers.
"You're angry," he mentioned in observation after a few moments.
"No," you answered quietly, leading up to your chamber door. "Just uneasy."
"Over me?"
"Over all of this," you admitted softly, entering first and hearing him follow. When the door closed, you continued, "It pains me to feel and see the divide in the family. And I walk both lines of it..."
"'S not easy," he agreed.
"No, it's not," you sighed, pulling your jewelry off. "And now isn't the time for petty games, my love. We've a child on the way, the time for grudges has passed - though I will not tell you to let this go." You turned to look at him in the firelight. "I know the pain caused, and I know what was taken from you..." He lowered his gaze, making you slowly approach him and reach for either hand. "But I need my husband with me, and not lost to some vendetta. We're having a baby, Aemond, and I'd like for them to know their uncles."
He sighed, nodding as he wrapped his arms up your waist. "Aye... I'd want that, too. But they can't call me brother, please, my love - "
You chuckled, "I will make sure they understand. We do not have to see them often, but the times we do, I'd like for some semblance of peace and normalcy."
He nodded with understanding, "Aye. For you, my love, I can do that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," He sighed.
"Then please - no more Strong comments," you begged quietly. "They're leaving soon, please, do not instigate this further. You do not have to see them again, but I'd like to see my siblings off."
He nodded, "Whatever you want, my sweet."
"Well, I want my brothers and husband to get along but that's not happening, is it?"
"Not likely," he teased. "But I will do my best to restrain myself."
"I only ask that you try," you agreed, pecking his lips. "Now, are you gonna run off anymore or do I have my husband for the night?"
He smirked, "You have me, my love. I am here with you."
"Good," you smirked, letting a hand snake along the back of his neck to pull him down; searing a heated kiss to his lips.
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theemporium · 2 days
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Idk if anything could come from this but it always sticks out to me that it says that luke spends just as much time at cherry's place as his own. Maybe something about them having a domestic kinda day together in her apartment?? 🫶🫶
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“M’gonna have to start charging rent soon.” 
Luke didn’t bother lifting his head from his current spot on the couch, his cheek squished against the throw pillow he had face-planted on a few minutes ago when he arrived. He just let out a noncommittal grunt before realising he should give a proper answer. 
“I can afford it,” he managed to mutter out. 
You let out a snort, shaking your head in amusement as you took in the way he was slumped over the couch. “Of course you can, hockey hot shot.”
“Why are you so far away?” Luke all but whined, lifting his head enough for you to see the frown on his face as he glanced at the distance between you and him. 
“Because I have a list of errands I need to get through,” you retorted, biting back your smile as his frown deepened.
“Five minutes? Please?” 
You sighed but your feet were already moving towards the boy, not getting the chance to do much more before Luke turned over and wound his arms around you with enough momentum to have you laying on top of him. 
“Ooft,” you groaned, laughing a little as you lifted your head. “Happy now?” 
“Mhm,” Luke nodded, his eyes a little hooded with sleep like he was seconds away from dozing off. “You’re a much better cuddle buddy than Jack.”
You hummed. “Is that why you’re here instead of your place?” 
“Maybe,” he murmured, his arms tightening around your waist. “Jack was also trying to rope me into golfing with some of the other guys.” 
“You didn’t wanna go?” You asked, one hand reaching up to push some curls out of his face before you could stop yourself. 
“Not really,” he admitted, his eyes falling shut and a content sigh leaving his lips. “Plus, I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Your lips twitched upwards. “You saw me two days ago.” 
Luke fought back his grin. “Yeah, exactly.” 
You rolled your eyes, not that he could see, before trying to get up. “Well, I desperately need to grocery shop and get some stuff from town so—”
“No,” Luke whined, his arms tightening around you. “You promised me five minutes.” 
“I have stuff to do, Luke.” 
“I’ll help you,” he promised, blinking his eyes open to look at you. “I’ll carry all the bags and not complain once. Just…lay here with me for five minutes.” 
You contemplated his offer. “And you’ll come to IKEA with me?”
“Yup.” 
“And you’ll build my new shelf for me?” You asked, a sweet smile on your lips that he knew better than to trust. But Luke didn’t have much self-preservation when it came to you.
“You can watch me struggle and everything,” he nodded. 
“Hmm, you got yourself a deal, Hughes,” you murmured before settling back down on his chest, your cheek pressed against the fabric of his Devils branded hoodie. 
“Only if we also get those yoghurts I like at the grocery store,” he added, his hands slipping under your hoodie.
You snorted. “Fine, deal.”
.
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squirmhoney · 1 month
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Could you do obsessed aegon x pregnant reader please?
A/N: Taking me back to my dependency issues series with this one. I miss it.
Warnings: dark. Non con. Dub con. Abusive relationship. Manipulation. Smut. 18+
//
Obsessed!Aegon constantly has to be touching you, whether it's his hand rubbing against your thigh or pressed into the small of your back, he has to basically be attached to you. Especially when it came to being in front of family, rolling his eyes at their disapproving stare, but suddenly feeling territorial when they were nearby. His hand would fall to your swollen stomach as if making it clear to everyone around you both that he had done that. That you and the life inside of you belonged to him.
Obsessed!Aegon that didn't even like the thought of being separated from you when you were in a fragile state. Even if you reassured him that you could look after yourself when he went on business, he would tense at the thought of you being alone. Or worse, another trying to take care of you. He was your protector, he should be the only one to keep you safe in this state.
Obsessed!Aegon who took advantage of your delicate state, easily over powering you if you tried to say no to him. You were weak, unable to fight back as his body climbed on top of yours. You were barely even able to struggle as he hiked your dress up, telling you that he'd do all the work seeing as you were so tired. If you continued to resist him, he’d look down at you with a pointed stare, almost daring you to test him as he said, “You keep struggling and you’re going to hurt the baby.”
Obsessed!Aegon who knew how to easily work you up. His mouth whispered nastiness against your ear as his cock slid over your folds. You were dripping all over him, pathetically whimpering into him as he toyed with you. “You don't want this, hmm? Then why are you so soaked for me.” You couldn't help it, you swore. It was all the hormones and the way Aegon knew how to press every single button to have you wet and wanting for him.
Obsessed!Aegon who praises you endlessly as he buried himself deep inside of you. He doesn't hold back, groaning at how well you're doing, how good your walls are making him feel. Your so choked up on your own noises that you're barely able to respond in words, only in the way your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his back, simmering in the feel of his hips working into you.
Obsessed!Aegon who is only rough with you when he's deeply jealous, probably catching his brother helping you up the stairs or even chatting to you. It didn’t happen often, mainly because you know better than to let another man touch you, still faint bruises decorating your wrist from the last time. But sometimes it couldn't be helped, before you know it, he has his hand wrapped in your hair, yanking you into the bedroom. It wouldn't be long before there'd be new bruises decorating your wrists, stinging from where he held you down as he rutted himself into you.
Obsessed!Aegon who's so good at being sorry. Kissing the marks that he created, tenderly rubbing your skin as he soothed you with his soft words. He never meant it, you just drove him mad sometimes. He just loved you so much, what else was he supposed to do.
Obsessed!Aegon who adores you in this state, desperate to keep you like this. He's sure after you give birth it won't take him long to get you knocked up again. Even when you're not pregnant he's all over you but seeing you glow with your round stomach, knowing there is half of him growing inside you, made him the happiest he'd ever been. It had him wanting to have you like this again and again, knowing he could never get sick of it.
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holylulusworld · 1 month
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Every Breath You Take (3)
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Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.
Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, voyeurism
A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader
Catch up here: Every Breath You take (2)
Every Breath You Take Masterlist
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Daylight brings new excitement. 
Your breakfast tasted a little tastier. The air seems to be a little warmer. And the world looks brighter in general.
You smile when you enter the building to start your workday. It’s the first time you feel happy to be here. Something has changed. 
You can’t describe it, but there’s this feeling inside your chest making your heart flutter.
“Y/N, morning,” your colleague chirps and points at your desk. “There was a delivery for you this morning. I signed for you, sweetie.”
“A delivery?” You look at your desk, feeling your heart flutter even harder. There’s a huge bouquet of lilies of the valley and a Pusheen plush. “OH! How’d they know I love Pusheen? Aw, and it’s holding a tiny bear too.”
“I think you’ve got a secret admirer,” your colleague points at the card next to the flowers. “Uh-I had to read the card to know it’s for you.”
You frown. She had to sign for the delivery. If you wanted to, you could call her out, and tell her to not read the card but it’s too late, and you’re so happy someone sent you the flowers and the plush to get mad at her.
“They called themselves B.,” she grabs the card to read it for you. “For the loveliest doll I’ve ever seen. Yours, B.” She huffs as you snatch the card out of her hands to reread the lines. “How can he know that you love lilies of the valleys?”
“I don’t know,” you sniff at the flowers and sigh. “He’s a silent admirer. Maybe he knows me because he’s not a stranger. You know, someone I have known for years.”
“I bet he’s a creep,” she suddenly says. “You should be careful.”
You glare at her. “Why? He sent me flowers and a plush. This doesn’t mean my secret admirer is a creep. Sick creep sent you dick pics or shit. Not nice things.”
“Just tell this to yourself. You must be desperate to be happy about a stalker,” she snaps at you, suddenly not so friendly anymore.” While she turns on her heels you call her a bitch in your head.
“Sweet Pushie, look at you,” you grab the plush and nuzzle it. It smells like cologne, and you sigh. “You’re so stinking cute. No man buying you can be a bad guy.”
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“Alpine, look,” Bucky excitedly watches you enter your apartment. You’re carrying the flowers in your hand and the plush is tugged under your arm. “She smiles, Alpine! Look! Mommy smiles.”
He grins at his cat. “I told you she’s going to love the flowers. Roses are boring. Our girl loves lilies of the valleys. Next time, I’ll get her daisies. She’s got some pressed in the big books in the back of her bookshelf.”
Alpine is not impressed. The furball gets comfortable on Bucky’s lap. He meows and goes back to sleep. He’s well-fed and tired.
Bucky watches you walk inside your bedroom to redress. He covers his eyes like a gentleman and waits for you to walk inside the living room to get comfortable on your couch. 
It doesn’t take long before you snuggle into your pillow and wrap a blanket around you. The new plush in your arms you watch your favorite new show.
“Hmm…” he dips his head to find out what you’re watching today. Of course, he hacked into your accounts too. Well, he paid someone to help him hack into your accounts. “The invitation. Sounds…frightening, doll. You shouldn’t watch this kind of movie while being alone.”
Bucky sits a little straight. “Alpine, we need to watch over our doll tonight. We don’t want her to be scared after she watches the movie.”
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Tonight, you go to your bedroom, instead of falling asleep in the living room. 
You yawn and rub your eyes. After your movie marathon, you are rather tired and ready to fall asleep while walking.
You yawn and fall onto your bed, to snuggle with your new plush. It smells so good, and you don’t want to miss having it in your arms.
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“She doesn’t take good care of herself,” Bucky whispers while covering you with a blanket. He runs his hand over your hair and sighs. 
Bucky had to put something in your water to make sure he could enter your apartment and take care of you at night. How he wishes he could stay and wrap you in his arms. But it’s too soon, and you’d only get scared.
Instead of giving in to his dreams, he refilled your fridge and put a glass of water on your nightstand. He even set your alarm to make sure you’ll make it in time for work.
“Sleep well, my sweet doll,” he kisses your temple and retreats. If he stays for a little longer he’ll be tempted to watch you sleep. “I must go now. If you need me, I’ll be there. You’ll always be safe.”
Bucky longingly looks at you for a moment. He smiles, knowing you will wake up, refreshed and happy. He’ll make sure of it…
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The Winter Soldier to his enemies. Bucky to his friends.
No friends. No family. No life.
That was your secret admirer’s life until he found you. Now he has something to look forward to. He can pick you up from work, bring you home, and watch over you for the rest of the night.
Bucky even made plans for the future. He never had plans for the future since Hydra captured him. But now, with you in his life, he has a reason to make plans and to live.
Part 4
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Tags in reblog.
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circeyoru · 3 months
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What if there's a side story of Collection Of Overlords where the hotel crew accidentally made Bambi, specifically from Unwanted Soul HAHAHA
Like, another of one Charlie's random activities that they wanted to know Alastor more, and they kept bugging him so Alastor just thought about telling them about his voodoo stuff
And the Charlie wanted him to show them, and Alastor hesitantly accepted, but then some like, loud crash or something interrupted Alastor's spell that made..
Our little Cursed Cat! Bambi!
HAHAHAH
Everyone was stunned, and Alastor literally panicked when he realized Bambi took a run towards Collector/Reader's room
Cat's are liquid, so Bambi slipped right under the crack of the door making Alastor have a heart attack 😭
But once Alastor slammed the door open and was about to protest, Collector/Reader had already picked up the cursed cat and is petting it
"MY LIEGE-"
"hmm? Oh Alastor, did you know about this adorable kitty? You two resemble alot"
3am thoughts.. THEYRE EATING ME UP
OH OH!!! Cursed Cat Alastor strikes again!! This series' first Cursed Cat Alastor appearance!!!
I'm pretty sure a lot of people already know Alastor's Reader's/your favourite Elite in your collection. Plus Alastor's actively keeping it only belonging to him. And what happens when Cursed Cat Alastor comes along? Well...
In this story, I don't think Alastor's willing to share his power without cause or a good reason, cause you play a role in his vast abilities, so he's not gonna show them off like that. He's trying to mimic your mysteriousness. So in this ask, (1) Alastor's not gonna join Charlie's activities when you're in the hotel, (2) Alastor won't let Charlie learn much of him as he believes you're the only one that should know -cause you own his soul so him too-, and (3) Alastor's not gonna entertain Charlie like that.
So how does Curse Cat Alastor appear?
Let's say, Alastor was performing his duties. He's testing some powers you lend him in order to reconstruct his room to what it was before (remember half of his room was a literal swamp? yeah, that) and then some new features to prove he can handle things. Then Charlie and Vaggie suddenly burst into his room unannounced and he messed up.
Poof! Cursed Cat Alastor is here!!
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" Charlie tried apologizing so many times "We didn't knock cause it was urgent." Vaggie somewhat lied They didn't catch the red creature that run through them and out of Alastor's room Alastor sighed, a bit annoyed but kept his composure, "What is it that you need, Charlie?" Vaggie watched the cat run, "Huh, it's going to that guest's room. You know, that one that actually paid."
Remember how it was with Alastor and your powers combined? Yee, Cursed Cat Alastor is literally built to locate you. Not only that, but it shares the same affection Alastor would to you. So? Competition!
Alastor panics and immediately runs after it, he can't risk using his powers cause he didn't want to mess anything up.
Meanwhile, you're in the library, looking through a number of books that float around you. As usual, your eyes remained closed. You sat in a chair without anything near you apart from the floating opened books. Your concentration broken when you heard scratching sounds directly below you. You paused in your reading and leaned over to see what was making that noise.
"Hello, you."
You heard the static meow from the cat that weirdly resembles Alastor way too much. You weren't aware of any hell version of a cat being red or having that kind of smile, not to mention owning and wearing a mini monocle.
"Aren't you cute?"
You reached to pick it up slowly, to test and see if it would claw at you or express defense. If it was a cat, then they don't like to be touched too much. Truly reminds you of Alastor. You noticed it shaking a bit and turned it to the side to see its tail wagging happily and excitedly.
You carefully placed it on your lap, letting it make itself comfortable. It purred loudly with static effects when you started patting its head, then moving down its back. You hummed along and smiled. When you asked if it could understand you, it nodded and purred, its head nudging into your stomach.
"Any owner?"
It hissed loudly, but then its ears drooped down and bowed its head down as if apologizing for its rude actions.
Your smile widened, got to love its personality and the resemblance it had with Alastor. So... "Let's forget your old owner, now, you follow me."
It meowed loudly, sitting at attention as if sensing what you're about to do.
Your fingers snapped and a black collar appeared, "Let's name you Red, you're fur was the first thing I noticed, you see."
The collar was inscribed with the bolded and capitalized name 'RED' with a wave of your finger and placed around its neck. Red purred and hugged you in gratitude.
"My Liege!" The doors burst opened and in rushed Alastor who looked like he fought krakens barehanded. His eyes glared down at Red who was in your wonderful hold. "I apologize for troubling your reading time, but I'll be removing this... thing that has taken up your space."
"Oh, no need. This is my new pet, Red. Red, say hello to Alastor."
Red hissed at Alastor and leaned closer to you.
Alastor emitted deafening static at the creature with his head tilted to the side.
You smile, "Aww, you two are getting aloud already~"
The characters are from {Collection of Overlords} here, you can check it out in MASTERLIST for the works
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zepskies · 1 year
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Sharing Is Caring (II)
Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader 
Summary: Navigating a new relationship means learning how to share a bed with Dean. [3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.]
Word Count: 900 Warnings: Fluff!~
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Part 2: Dean
You expelled a tired sigh as you pulled back the covers and got into bed—Dean’s bed. It was new, and still a little strange to sleep in his room more consistently than your own in the bunker. 
But he’d cleared a drawer in the bathroom and a nightstand for some of your things. The thought made you smile, along with Dean himself as he stepped out of the bathroom freshly showered and shaved. He was dressed in a simple shirt and sleep pants, bare-footed. 
You liked that you got to see him this way: out of his hunter layers, softer, and comfortable with you. 
He approached the bed and tsked at you, crossing his arms. You raised a brow at him.
“What?” 
“First of all, you’re on my side,” Dean said.
He waggled a finger at you, gesturing to move over. You gave him a flat look.
“I cleared the nightstand on the left for you,” he added. 
“I appreciate that,” you replied, “but I like it over here on the right.”
“Well, so do I. And that happens to be my side.”
Dean could be stubborn about the most random things. You two hadn’t been together long (officially, that is). And though you thought you’d known him pretty well, you were starting to learn more and more about the little things that could hotwire his brain.  
“You didn’t have a side before,” you accused. “I’ve seen you twisted up and spread-eagled in the middle of the bed like a damn starfish.”
He gave you a look of annoyance crossed with denial. 
“Yeah, well. My bed my rules, sweetheart.” Dean moved in behind you and bodily rolled you over to what he deemed as your side. You yelped and shot him an incredulous look over your shoulder.
But you fought back and grappled with him, holding onto his arms and taking most of the blankets and sheets with you as he pushed you over. 
“Hey! This is basically our bed now. I think I should get some say,” you said through rounds of giggles. A smirk crossed Dean’s face. 
But he soon grunted as a pillow smacked him in the face. “Hey!” 
You laughed and tried wriggling out of his grip. It didn’t do much good; Dean was stronger than you even on your best day, but you were more flexible.
You curled your legs around his right thigh and managed to twist him onto his back. You gained the leverage, pushing down on his shoulders from above while you straddled his waist. 
“Ha!” You stared down at him with a mischievous smirk while catching your breath. Dean looked up at you with grinning eyes, his hands molding to your hips. The little shorts you wore to bed were driving him a bit crazy, and he bunched the material there on reflex. His thumbs grazed your skin underneath and made tingles run up your spine.  
“You realize this is a hollow victory, right?” he said. You tilted your head in question.
“Hmm?”
Then his grip on your hips tightened, and with a gasp, you were tumbling to the side and being rolled again. 
Dean literally came out on top, looking down on you. His grin was fond and amused as he brushed your hair away from your face. You couldn’t resist; you pulled him down by his shirt for a kiss. 
You caught the scent of his aftershave, tasted his minty freshness. His tongue slipped between your lips as he deepened the kiss. And he braced his hands on either side of you while you slid your fingers through his short hair. 
You almost sighed in contentment…but a curious thought was nagging at the back of your mind and wouldn’t let go. 
So you released his lower lip with a soft nip, and you pulled away enough to meet his confused (and heated) eyes. 
“But seriously, why do you want the right side so bad?” you asked, raising a hand to stroke the side of his face. You actually liked the way his stubble scratched your palm. 
Dean paused. His gaze shifted in a way that told you the reason went deeper than you’d thought.  
“It’s nothin’. I just wanna be closer to the door, that’s all,” he said. 
You blinked up at him in amusement. “We’re in the bunker. You think a burglar’s gonna come bursting in or something?”
“Or something,” Dean said. He wasn’t kidding around. 
Your smile softened. Something else you’d learned about Dean: he knew you could protect yourself just fine, but that didn’t stop him from putting himself between you and danger whenever he could help it. 
“Who says chivalry’s dead,” you teased. 
Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay.” 
I’m done, said his tone.
But you could tell he was trying to stem off his embarrassment. He was a bigger softie than he was willing to admit. 
He started to shift off you to his side of the bed, but you followed him. You tucked yourself against him and slipped your leg between both of his, shimmying around to get comfortable. Dean nearly rolled his eyes again as your antics shook the bed. But he still wrapped an arm around your waist.
You then laid your head against his chest. His heart beat at a steady pace under your cheek, and you sighed. 
“Comfortable?” he asked wryly. His hand covered yours on his chest. You nodded. 
“With you, always,” you whispered. 
You couldn’t see it, but a smile curved Dean’s lips as your words inevitably warmed him inside.
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AN: So a nice soft one for Dean in this little series! Castiel is up next (last but certainly not least).
To read Part 1: Sam
To read Part 3: Castiel
TAG LIST:
@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @this-is-me19
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Dean Winchester One-Shots
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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