#illicit affairs au ask

[goldenbuckyyy]

Illicit affairs part 4 is finally done! Some of you might hate me, I think 😭😭

[bobfloydsbabe]

🌹🌹🌹🥰

My darling Taylor. You're not ready for this.

from penthouse smut™ (mob boss bob x oc) 18+/mdni

Chuckling, he stands between her legs and raises his hand towards his mouth, but Abby stops him. She grabs his wrist and brings his hands towards her own mouth, and when it dawns on him what she’s going to do, Bob swears his brain short-circuits. She guides the fingers soaked in her release past her lips, and he’s so enthralled, he can’t stop staring. Her tongue swirls around his digits, moaning, and sucking every last drop of herself off him. He’s so hard it hurts, and if his cock doesn’t get attention soon, he might pass out.

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing

[hansensgirl]

☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.

pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).

warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~4.8k

author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.

For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.

Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.

When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.

Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.

His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.

It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.

Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.

Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻

Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.

Great, thank you so much! See you then :)

You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.

The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.

Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.

She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.

The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.

He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.

Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.

When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.

Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.

That is, if he’s her biological father.

The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.

Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.

Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.

She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.

It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.

“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.

“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.

For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.

“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.

Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.

Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.

He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.

Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.

Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.

Please do. The door will be unlocked.

You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.

Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.

You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.

Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.

You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.

Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.

“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.

The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.

“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”

You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.

“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.

“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.

You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.

“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.

“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”

When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.

“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.

“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”

There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.

“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”

Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?

“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.

When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.

“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.

Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.

He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.

The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”

“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”

“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.

Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.

You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.

“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”

His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.

“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”

“Please, Sir,” you whisper.

The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”

You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.

Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”

He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.

Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.

Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.

He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.

Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.

Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”

Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.

Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.

In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.

Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.

His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”

You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.

He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.

“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”

The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.

It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.

Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.

“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.

Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.

You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.

“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.

“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.

“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”

He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.

The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.

A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.

“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”

Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”

His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man—because he is one.

His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.

“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.

That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy’s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.

Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.

Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.

Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.

His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.

Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.

“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”

You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.

Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.

His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.

For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.

Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.

But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,

Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.

Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.

You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.

But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.

“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”

For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.

[tojisun]

my baby swingin’ — simon (ghost) riley

biker!simon (ghost) riley x fem reader

> a bunch of snapshots of simon and his pretty little sweetheart’s adventures.

!! suggestive - minors dni; canon divergence; no chronological order (basically a bunch of loosely-tied worldbuilding); subtle and hinted age difference; reader gets princess treatment because she deserves it so!!

: im the one who’s the most confused as to how my obsession with biker!simon started but im stringing u along anyway so pls have fun!! my inbox is open for brainworms <33

for all posts, pls click on biker!simon tag <33

part 01 - intro post; headcanons

part 02 - simon can’t wait to come home to you

part 03 - getting over your fear of riding a bike

part 04 - lap sitting (a visual); ask

part 05 - simon and your first meeting; ask // extra 01

part 06 - little donuts at the park <;33

part 07 - simon’s instagram account (includes visuals); ask

part 08 - teasin’ each other on their way home; ask; suggestive

part 09 - body worship (a visual); ask; suggestive

part 10 - getting over your fear of riding a bike sequel! (a visual); ask

part 11 - mutual desperation spilling over; smut

part 12 - burning from all these messages; smut

part 13 - scary mask!! (a visual); ask

part 14 - of prince charming and care packages

part 15 - scary ghost? yes. protective ghost? yes <;33; ask

part 16 - safe drive!; ask

part 17 - simon and your first meeting cont.; ask; smut

part 18 - fun times on his bike; ask; smut

-

extra 02 - your nephew’s new favourite adult (a visual); ask

extra 03 - biker!konig makes an appearance!!! (a visual); ask

extra 04 - smack! smack! smack! (a visual); ask

extra 05 - picking up the backpack (a visual); ask

extra 06 - you don’t use it, you lose it; ask

extra 07 - price on a harley; ask

extra 08 - helmet kiss (a visual); ask

extra 09 - ‘girls cum first’ sweater (a visual); ask; smut

extra 10 - tf141 and their shared backpack princess; ask

extra 11 - period cramps and cuddling; ask

extra 12 - of checkpoint videos & dashing men (a visual); ask

extra 13 - no backpacks allowed (a visual); ask

extra 14 - he slipped!! (a visual); ask

extra 15 - her famous luvr; ask (a visual)

extra 16 - keys and kisses; ask

extra 17 - simon announcing his girl (includes visual!); ask

extra 18 - careful now (a visual); ask

extra 19 - they’re friends??

extra 20 - pretty blue lace; ask; smut

extra 21 - dad!simon (a visual); ask

extra 22 - lil smut (a visual); ask

extra 23 - riding on the rain (a visual); ask

extra 24 - girl dad simon; ask

extra 25 - gorgeous and protective (a visual); ask

extra 26 - zip that shit up (a visual); ask | recent!

-

dear john - dbf!simon

↳ for all toxic/dbf simon pls click on dbf!simon tag!!

toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + smut

‘dear john’: cont. of toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + suggestive

mini cont of dear john; ask

dear john (but it’s john price); ask

dear john (how he fucks); smut

dear john (as illicit affairs); ask; angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origin); angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origins but as reader); ask; angst + suggestive

dear john (reader moving on); ask | recent!

-

subset 01 - best friend n biker!simon au; ask

subset 02 - best friend n biker!simon au cont.

subset 03 - bimbo!reader

unofficial extra - baker!simon

-

i have a short taglist so pls lmk if you would like to be tagged too ^v^ no more taglist

(updated: 16 march 2024)

[gurugirl]

Best Friend's Dad!Harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship au

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, age gap, cheating, lying, angst, breeding kink

Song to listen to: Illicit Affairs (you guys have said over and over again that this song fits this series perfectly and I couldn't agree more)

note: should be read from top to bottom in order (unless noted that can be read as standalone)

Let Me Show You (6.3k words) - can be read as standalone

How your illicit affair with Mr. Styles began

Desperate (3.6k words) - can be read as standalone

A party at the Styles' house + sneaky bathroom sex

The Big Tease (7.8k words)

Some heavy teasing leads to you giving in to Mr. Styles

Not Fair (6.5k words)

Harry suggests something to you that blows up in his face *angsty*

He's Not You (7.8k words)

The aftermath of Harry's bright idea has some downfalls and he didn't expect to feel this way.

Liar (6.1k words)

Harry's wife suspects something is going on but she doesn't know what. Harry can't stay away from you and you don't want him to.

More of You (5.1k words) - can be read as standalone

Harry's at your place for a couple of days and you're enjoying having him all to yourself.

Crush (3.5k words) - can be read as standalone

A flashback: When your feelings for Mr. Styles morph from just finding him attractive to a full on crush you feel a little guilty. But then when he shows more than just a friendly interest in you at Fae's 22nd birthday party you two become close and eventually ebb on inappropriate, but you can't seem to stop.

Magic Spell (5.3k words) - can be read as standalone

A raucous Halloween party turns naughty when you and Harry find a hidden room at the Baylor mansion.

Under His Bed (4.5k words)

Harry invites you to stay at his house for the night and the following morning you both get an unexpected visitor.

Relax (4.9k words)

Fae asks you something that you aren't prepared to answer. You and Harry discuss what to do next.

Here's to Us (6.4k words)

A quick little weekend getaway is sweet and romantic. You reveal something that makes Harry do something a bit out of character.

Homewrecker (7.2k words)

The one where you and Harry finally come clean to everyone. Featuring an angry Fae, a spiteful soon-to-be ex wife, divorce terms, and lots of tears.

The Warning (4.5k words)

You and Harry are trying to heal after coming clean to everyone and Mrs. Styles comes to you with a warning.

A Little Naughty (3.3k words)

Your parents invite Harry to come with you for Christmas and you feel a little bit naughty after everyone's in bed.

Best Valentine's Day (4.2k words)

It's Valentine's Day and Harry's got something special planned.

Intuition (3.4k words)

Harry's got a surprise for you.

Must Be Nice (3.4k words)

You and Harry feel like everything's coming together perfectly. You're both getting all the things you wanted. But when you run into Fae while shopping and she notices something new about you, it bursts your little happy bubble.

The message blurb (453 words)

Fae unblocks you.

MORE TO COME!

divider by @firefly-graphics

[kujousgf]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS. mdni. 18+.

pairing: mom's best friend!natasha + maximoff!reader

summary: and you wanna scream, don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"

warnings: angst w/happy ending, post-break up

a/n: i love this little au actually, i need five more of these little redheaded bitches

The living room of your home was quiet save for the incessant tapping of your heel against the ground, a product of the anxious leg bounce you couldn't currently control. Your fist is clenching and unclenching at your side as you silently beg your mother to hurry up. It was monthly movie night, something Natasha and your mother had done since they were freshmen in highschool. It started off weekly, but grew less frequent as they became busier with adulthood. You didn't realize how painful it would be to be so close to Natasha again until Vision had called and asked Wanda if she could pick the boys up from his house. Your mother had left in a huff and left you and Natasha alone.

Natasha’s hand lands on your knee to stop the bouncing and you jolt, standing up and stepping away from her. As much as you love her touch, it was like a jolt of lightning had just passed through your body, and not in a nice way. “Don’t touch me.” Your voice isn't angry, but it's not nice or friendly either and it makes Natasha sigh. “Don't be like that, I know you annoy yourself when you do that. Sit back down, please.”

“No, I don't think I will. I think I’ll go upstairs actually.” You turn towards the direction of the stairs, not even bothering to look at the redhead as you walk by.

“You know your mother will be upset if she gets home and you're not down here.” Natasha catches your arm as you walk by, tugging you to stop. “I know you're mad at me, but please, just sit down. I’ll be gone as soon as the movie's over.”

“I said don't touch me!” You grit your teeth together, pulling your arm from Natasha's grasp. “You know? You know!” Tears start to sting at your eyes because you didn't want to do this tonight. You assumed the redhead would be ‘too busy with work’ to come and that you’d be able to spend the night in the comfort of your mother's arms, trying to forget about the ache in your chest. You assumed you wouldn't come home and have the smile drop from your face at the sight of the only thing you ever wanted but couldn't have standing in your kitchen.

“Y/N…” Natasha’s voice is quiet, like she's trying to coax a child out of a tantrum and it only makes you feel worse. “No, Natasha. You don't get to do this. You don't get to act like you didn't take my heart in your hands and then crush it. You don't get to act like I’m overreacting. You don't get to sit in my living room in my house and tell me what to do. You don't get to say that you know.” Your fists are clenched at your sides and you're trying your very best not to cry but it's not working.

The lump in your throat and the ache in your chest are all consuming and you can't help the tears that fall down your cheeks. “What is it that you think you know? Do you know that I spend every waking moment thinking about the way you said ‘I don't think this is working’? And that I dream about it too? What do you know Natasha?”

“Baby, I—”

“No! No, you don't get to call me that, you don't.” You wipe at the tears on your cheeks, trying to stop them before your mother gets home. “I have to– I can't be here, just… just say I went to Kate’s. I have to go.” You don't notice Natasha standing or walking towards you in your rush to leave until she's tugging on your shoulder to turn you around.

“Stop, stop! Just stop okay? Let me talk.” You open your mouth to speak and Natasha holds her hands up, “no more touching, you're right, I’m sorry. Just let me talk, please.” You take a shuddering breath and then nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as if attempting to shield yourself from whatever weapons Natasha had.

“I shouldn't have ended things, not like that.” Your gaze dropping to the ground makes her realize her mistake and she curses under her breath, running a hand through her hair. “That came out… wrong. I shouldn't have ended things at all. I should have talked to you, I should have talked to Wanda, I should have done anything but that and I’m sorry.”

Natasha looks toward the front door when she hears a car pull into the driveway and she braces herself for what's going to happen in only a few minutes. “I love you and I want things to work, okay? I was…” she takes a breath, “I was scared to lose both you and Wanda if she ever found out. We’re not.. I’m a lot older than you and I don't know how Wanda would react if she found out. You're right, I didn't know what I said I did, but if you're willing to let me fix this, I can tell you that I do know one thing. I know that I love you. Your mom might kill me when she finds out, but I think that's a chance I’m willing to take. What do you think?”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

illicit affairs

Summary: Stranded in an airport hotel because of hurricane warning, you snatch the last hotel room for the following two nights, not knowing that these two nights would change your life forever. You meet Joel and spend every moment you can with him until he leaves you in the middle of the night the day you both had to go back home. Months later, heartbroken and pregnant from a man you hadn’t even exchanged last names with, you go back to your hometown to meet your mother’s new boyfriend, not knowing it’s Joel.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader // Joel Miller x fem. readers mother

Wordcount: 6.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: no outbreak AU, meet cute, age gap (around twenty years, but it’s not specified) flirting, kissing, smut (oral f receiving, protected sex, unprotected sex, so much sex) accidental pregnancy, angst, vomiting, fluff, heartbreak

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic that turned into a little beast

illicit affairs master list // Pedro Masterlist

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You weren’t particularly looking forward to the next three days. 

Not that you didn’t love your mother. You were happy for her. After your father died almost eight years ago she deserved to be happy again. To be loved by someone. 

You just had a weird feeling about this trip, and you couldn’t say exactly why.

You had moved back to Austin for a couple of months after your father died. You had been between jobs and while you did not particularly enjoy the summer heat of Texas, or living in your childhood room, you were glad you had been there for your mother. 

You only took the job that had been offered you in Seattle because she told you that it was time. That she was okay. That it was time to live your life. You only left because you knew your brother Sean was moving back to Austin to start his new job in the weeks after you left. 

„Have you met her new man yet?“ You asked Sean as you sat in the passenger seat of his car. 

Thankfully he had offered his guest bedroom for your three day stay. Not that you wouldn’t like staying with your mom, but you were pretty sure you could not hide the fact that you had gotten pregnant from a stranger four months ago from her, when you would be staying with her 24/7. 

Your brother was a bit more… oblivious. 

You weren’t showing yet, and even though you knew you had to tell your family at some point, you weren’t ready to do it right now. 

You wondered when you were ready to tell them, but that was a problem for next week you, who could lock herself into her apartment back home in Seattle. 

Of course you knew this wouldn’t just go away, but additionally to the fact that you had gotten pregnant, you had no way of contacting the father, leaving you as a single mom. 

You only knew his first name. You didn’t get a chance to learn more about him. 

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall against the window of Sean’s car. 

„I haven’t met him. I only know he has a Construction company with his brother. That’s how mom and him met,“ he said. You nodded. 

„She seems happy. I hope he’s nice,“ you sighed.

„What about you? Someone in your life I need to have a big brother talk with?“ He asked and you scoffed. 

„I found out that all men are assholes,“ you rolled your eyes and Sean laughed. 

„Could have told you that before,“ he grinned and you punched his arm and he winced with a dramatic ouch. 

„Anyway. No men. Might get a cat,“ and a baby you added in your head. 

„I’m allergic to cats,“ he reminded you. 

„Remind me how that is my problem?“

It was a nice neighbourhood Sean drove his car through, looking for the address your mother gave you. It was a typical suburban neighbourhood. 

Kids playing on the front lawn. 

A men washing his car. 

Women who took care of the little garden that wasn’t burnt by the sun yet. 

Fuck, you forgot how hot Texas was during the summer. 

„Here we are,“ Sean hummed and you followed his gaze as he parked the car in the driveway of a two story home behind a black pick up truck. Your mothers Honda was standing parked next to it. 

You gave yourself a moment to gather your thoughts while you looked at the house. 

It was a nice house. You could see that someone was keeping it maintained and loved. There was a big tree with a swing outside and you wondered if the man had kids too. Before you could look closer at the house the front door opened and your mother stepped out, a big smile on her face. 

„Here goes nothing,“ Sean said and you shook your head with a small smile before you opened the door. 

Arms were wrapped around you almost the moment you stepped out of the car, your mother pulling you in a tight hug. 

„My baby,“ she whispered against your ear and you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.

„Hi mom,“ you said, suddenly overwhelmed by your emotions as you fought down the tears. She kissed your cheek before she looked at you with a warm smile. 

„I missed you,“ she said.

„Missed you too,“ you mumbled and she squeezed you softly.

„What about me?“ Sean interrupted and you rolled your eyes. 

„What about you?“ Your mother asked with a grin. 

„Didn’t you miss your son?“ He poured and you shook your head with a laugh.

„I saw you yesterday. I brought you and John leftover lasagna,“ your mother reminded him and he shrugged before he hugged her too. 

You took a moment to look around the neighbourhood when you heard the door behind you open again. 

„Come on. Joel has been grilling steaks in the backyard. They’re to die for,“ your mother said and you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes as you heard the name. 

The last time you heard it, it was you who said it, moaned it. He had you pressed against the mattress, thrusting deeply into you, whispering filth into your ear…

You shook your head. Not the time. 

„Kids, I want you to meet Joel Miller,“ your mother took your hand and you turned around with a welcoming smile that froze as your eyes landed on the man in front of you. Dark familiar brown eyes finding yours. His eyes widened for a second before he looked away from you, holding his hand out for your brother to shake. 

You blinked your eyes a couple times, trying to make him disappear. It couldn’t be him. There was no way that this was….

Your mothers arm sneaked around his waist, his arm around her shoulders. You saw him take a deep breath before he turned his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to shake. 

„And this is my daughter,“ your mother introduced you with your name and you were hoping that whatever you were feeling right now was not showing on your face. 

As if on autopilot you pulled your hand up to meet his, your whole body reacting to his touch as his hand squeezed yours, fighting down the thoughts of how this hand touched you the last time you were close to each other. 

„Nice to meet you,“ he said and you gulped, meeting his eyes. 

„Nice to meet you too, Joel.“

Five-ish months earlier

It was pure luck that you got a hotel room for the night. Your flight back home to Seattle had been canceled due to a hurricane warning and you had rushed to the first airport hotel in Phoenix, the airport you had been stranded on on your way back from New York. 

Of course you had no idea some kind of construction job fair networking event thing was held at exactly this hotel for the whole weekend. Though it did explain the price of the room.

You ignored the absurd price tag to the last room you were able to get, making your way with the keycard in hand towards the elevator that would bring you to the 11th floor where you room was. 

Waiting in front of the elevator you let your eyes wander through the impressive foyer before the doors of the elevator in front of you opened. You gripped your suitcase before you looked up again, meeting the eyes of the man who was stepping out of the elevator. 

He gave you a small smile, holding the elevator for you, as he stepped out. 

You swallowed slowly, giving him a thankful smile, walking past him into the elevator. Your eyes slipped close as you smelled his aftershave, your back turned towards him before you turned around, facing him. He was still standing in front of you. He was taller than you, dressed completely in black, dark jeans with a black dress shirt tucked into his pants. The first buttons of his shirt were opened, the sleeves rolled back over his tanned muscular forearms, the ends of a black tattoo just so visible on his arm, making you wonder what exactly it was. 

He was by all means one of the most attractive men you had ever seen in your life.

And at least twenty years older than you. 

There was an amused smile on his lips as as your eyes finally landed on his, having of course noticed you checking him out. 

You felt your cheeks warming as his dark eyes looked at you. 

„Thank you,“ you blurted out and he raised his eyebrows. 

„For holding the elevator,“ you clarified, feeling stupid. So fucking stupid. 

You took a deep breath, which was a dumb idea because he and his aftershave had been in this elevator before and it was mouthwatering. Raising your hand you pushed the button for the eleventh floor. 

„You’re welcome,“ he said and fuck, even his voice was sexy. 

He was about to say more when someone clapped on his shoulder. 

"Come on Joel. Let’s get some drinks,“ a man said to, dressed similar. 

The last thing you saw from the man you know knew was named Joel were his eyes on you, winking, as the elevator closed. 

While your initial plain consisted of ordering room service and watching the Bachelor until you fell asleep, one phone call with your best friend after making it to the hotel room left you getting your little black dress out (well not so little, but it was one of the nicer dresses you owned) and putting some light make up on. 

You couldn’t exactly explain what it was that you were doing, but deep down you knew you would regret not going down to the bar and maybe finding that man, Joel, again. Even if you would only look at him from afar like a creepy stalker. 

You never made the first step and your best friend made the very logical point that if you embarrassed yourself for some reason, you would never see the man again. 

Nervously talking a last look into the mirror you walked out of the bathroom, switching the lights off. 

Sitting down on your bed you took a deep breath. 

What were you doing?

You did not know this man. You haven’t even really talked to him. He was older than you. And probably married. Or a serial killer. Not that you had a chance with someone who looked like that. You would probably humiliate yourself, chasing after some guy who was just trying to be nice to a stranger. 

„Why am I like this?“ You whined, letting yourself fall back against the bed. 

Closing your eyes you tried to relax.

You could do this. You never went for what you wanted. And you wanted him. 

„One drink,“ you said to yourself before you got up from the bed, got your heels on and walked out of your room. 

You had just gotten your first drink when you felt someone sit down next to you. A shy smile sneaked onto your face, because before you had even looked at the man sitting next to you, you had smelled his aftershave. 

He was already looking at you when you finally turned towards him. 

„Mind if I sit here?“ He asked and your smile widened. 

„Not at all,“ you said.

„Joel,“ you gasped, your head falling back against the door of your room he had pressed you against. 

Not even in your wildest dreams did you imagine this outcome when you decided to get down to the bar. You didn’t even think he was really interested. But the more you talked, the closer you got. His warmth against your side as your feet ran up his thigh when he told you about his work. About his life. 

About how he hasn’t stopped thinking about what you might look like when you came. 

„So fucking pretty,“ he hummed before his lips crashed down on yours. One of his hands pinning your arms over your head against the door while his other hand pushed your skirt slowly up, his fingers running up your thigh. 

„Fuck,“ you moaned, your legs already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you really yet. 

His lips wandered down your throat and you could feel him smile against your skin, his teeth carefully nibbling at your skin as his hand slipped between your legs, finding your drenched. 

„You gonna let me eat this pussy?“ He hummed and you groaned. 

„Please,“ you gasped. He chuckled, his finger slowly pushing your panties aside. 

„Bet you taste delicious,“ he grinned before his head dipped between your breasts. He kissed the top of them, inhaling deeply. 

„Smell so fucking good,“ he hummed. He let go of his grip around your wrist but you kept them up. 

„Good girl,“ he hummed and kissed you. 

„Want you to get naked for me and lay down on your bed, can you do that for me?“ he asked. You licked your lips, nodding your head. 

You hooked your fingers into the straps of your dress, slowly pushing them down your shoulder, Joel’s dark eyes following your every move. His finger still slowly swiping through your pussy. 

Reaching around you unhooked your bra, your eyes on him, slipping it down your arms, letting it fall to the ground. 

His jaw tensed, his eyes taking you in. 

He took a step back from you, his touch leaving you and you slipped your dress down your body, your panties too. 

Stepping out of them you walked slowly towards the bed, getting out of your heels but he stopped you. 

„Keep them on,“ he grunted and you nodded with a small grin. 

Walking past him towards your bed your sat down, slipping back until you were sitting in the middle of the bed, completely naked, safe for your heels. 

„So fucking pretty,“ Joel said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he was here right now. You let your eyes wander down his broad body, your mouth salivating when you noticed the prominent outline of his cock through his dark jeans. 

„Spread those legs for me,“ he said and you tilted your head up to look into his eyes. 

The way he looked at you made you feel incredibly sexy, confident, powerful. 

Slowly you angled your legs, letting them fall open for him. 

He sucked his bottom lip in, just look at your pussy that was so wet you were sure you were dripping onto the sheets beneath you. 

„God fucking damn,“ he groaned and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. 

Your greedy eyes took in every inch of skin he revealed to your eyes, dying to run your hands and tongue over his broad chest. He carefully slipped his shirt from his upper body, taking great care to hang it over the back of a chair. 

When he turned back towards you, seeing your amused expression he shrugged. 

„Need to wear that again tomorrow. Can’t have your pussy all over it,“ he explained nonchalantly.  

„On my face on the other hand….“ he winked before he slowly joined you on the bed, laying down on his chest right between your legs. 

His lips kissed up your inner thigh, his beard deliciously scratching over your skin the closer he got to where you were dripping for him. 

Your eyes followed his every move, his dark eyes fixed on you as you saw his lip part, leaning in. You felt his tongue dip into your slit, licking up, teasing your clit all while he moaned as if he just tasted heaven. 

„Fucking knew it,“ he groaned. His arms slipped around your upper thighs, pulling you against his mouth, before dove in. Driving you positively insane with his wicked tongue as he slowly but surely brought you to what you would later would find out, first orgasm of the night. 

Your fingers were wrapped around the soft strands of his hair as he held you down, licking into you until you came undone, crying out in pleasure as your orgasm left you gasping for air. 

He cleaned you with his tongue, carefully, as you tried to normalise your breathing and heart rate. When he was finished he just looked up at you, his cheek resting on your thigh, his chin glistening with you.

„Better than I imagined,“ he whispered, kissing your thigh.

„Huh?“ You asked confused. 

He grinned. 

„Your face when you cum,“ he winked and you flushed, warmth spreading over your whole body. 

Sitting yourself up you reached for him, pulling him up until he was laying on top of you, your hands in his hair as you pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply. You wrapped your legs around his back, wanting him closer. 

He moaned against your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. 

„I want you to fuck me,“ you whispered against his lips. 

„I intend to. As often as you let me,“ he hummed back, kissing you again. 

He grabbed a pillow when he parted from you, pushing it under your hips before he got up from the bed, getting out of his jeans and boxers. You couldn’t help but bite your lip when you saw his cock for the first time. 

Dying to have him inside of you but….

„Joel,“ you said softly and he looked at you. 

„It’s been some time…. Years and I…“ you suddenly felt shy, not knowing how to carry on. 

He grabbed something before he slowly sat down on the bed. He came to rest on his side, right next to you. 

„We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,“ he promised, his hand on your cheek. You turned to your side, looking at him.

„I want to. I just want you to know that it’s been a while and well… you’re fucking huge,“ you shrugged with a awkward laugh. He chuckled, his fingers on your chin tilting it up, so you had to look at him. 

„You may be surprised, but I don’t do this often either,“ he said and while your first reaction was to scoff and not believe him, his expression remained honest and open and you believed him. 

Slowly your brought one of your hands up to rest on his warm chest, right against his heart feeling it beat. 

„Okay,“ you whispered and leaned in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him as he kissed you. One of his legs came between yours, his thigh meeting your pussy, making you gasp. 

You just kissed for a while, touching, getting familiar with each other before he slowly turned you so you were back to laying on your back, him hovering over you. 

He parted form your lips, reaching for a condom and you realised that this must have been what he grabbed earlier. He gave you a sheepish smile as he ripped the package open, sitting himself up so he could slip the condom on. 

„Thought you might get lucky huh?“ You teased and he grinned. 

„Hoped,“ he clarified, lining himself up the tip of his cock slipping into you without any resistance. 

„For the record, I have an IUD,“ you said and his eyes darkened but he shrugged his shoulders. 

„Better safe than sorry,“ he winked before he slowly sank into you. 

Sex with Joel was not like anything you ever experienced before. 

He watched your face for any expression, slowing down when he noticed discomfort. He took his time learning what you liked, his sole goal for when he was in your room being your pleasure. 

He told you that he was here for this construction congress thing, but whenever he did not have to work or shake hands he was with you. 

You didn’t talk about what you were doing. You were living in the moment, not thinking of what would happen once Monday came and you both had to leave this hotel and get back into your life’s.

He only had made one rule. 

Not to catch any feelings. 

Which you thought you could do.

But he was just so… fucking perfect. At least the version of him you got to spend time with.

It was not even the sex, which was positively mind-blowing, mind you. It was the moments after when he held you and told you about his hobbies. About his company. About his life. Always keeping it vague, never saying anything about where he was from. 

Much like you. 

On Saturday morning before he had to go to get to a meeting he had you in the shower, your body pressed against the shower wall as he fucked into your from behind, hard, leaving you to moan so loudly when you came that you were sure you would get a noise complaint. 

It was the only time he fucked you without a condom and came inside of you.

You never had this much sex and it had never ever been this good before. 

Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was because there was something more….

You hadn’t talked about an after. 

After the sex.

After falling asleep in each others arms. 

After the conference. 

You didn’t have a chance to talk about a potential after when you woke up Monday morning at 3:22 am, finding the bed next to you cold. 

At first you thought he was in the bathroom but after a couple of minutes and no sound coming from the room, you sat yourself up, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. 

You could still feel his cum that had dried on your stomach hours before, when you found a note from him on the bedside table that said

Thank you

Two months later you found out you were pregnant.

Now

He has been ignoring you. 

Which was making you even angrier, because you did nothing wrong. 

You were sitting with your mother on the backyard patio enjoying some iced tea, watching your brother and Joel at the grill. 

You had learned all the important stuff about Joel from your mother in the last ten minutes.

He was forty five, six years younger than your mom, but still much older than you. He had a daughter whose name was Sarah. She was twenty seven, living in Dallas and working as a doctor, about to be married next spring. 

You were just nodding along, frankly overwhelmed with the situation. 

You had sex with your mothers boyfriend. 

Yes, you didn’t know it back then, and you had verified with your mother when they met each other, they only started dating after that weekend you had spend with him. 

But you had slept with him. 

You were pregnant from him. 

You were pregnant with your mothers boyfriends child. 

„Are you okay?“ You mother asked. You almost jumped, your ice tea spilling a little.

„Sorry. A little tired. Work is busy,“ you lied. 

„I’m so proud of you baby. My little girl is going places,“ she smiled and you smiled back. Thankfully your brother sat down next to her, involving her in a conversation. It gave you the chance to sneak away into the house to find the bathroom. 

You walked by a wall of pictures. Joel was in many of them and the man you had seen back in Phoenix was there too. 

You smiled when you saw a younger version of Joel next to a girl that looked so much like him. You saw her grow up through the pictures on the wall. You could see that Joel was a proud dad. Always next to her at the milestones of her life. 

For some reason it made you tear up, your hand coming to rest over your stomach, the bump barely there. 

Your child would never have this. 

They would never have a loving father who was there every single day, for every milestone in their life. 

You couldn’t do that to your mother. She was clearly in love with him. 

But maybe you were in love with him too. 

No man had made you feel like Joel did before. Yes you had some relationships, even one where you could see yourself getting married before it ended. 

But Joel….

The things he made you feel in that hotel room were like nothing you had ever felt before. And not just sexually. You felt safe with him. You felt comfortable with him, even when you were both quiet and just enjoying the moment. 

You thought it was just a stupid crush at first. Because of the way you met and how it ended. 

You couldn’t fall in love with someone you had only known for three days, right?

But against all odds you did, and you had made your peace with it. 

You could even understand him leaving you in the middle of the night. 

He had told you that he was single and not married. And you believed him. You were much younger than him, which would make this… thing between the two of you most likely not have a future anyway. And long distance was not something that was easy. 

You made every excuse in the books for him. 

But standing here in his house, looking at his life, all you felt was sadness. 

Sadness over what you wouldn’t have. 

Why did it have to be him?

„Your mother and your brother left to get ice cream for dessert,“ Joel’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t even heard him come in. Nodding you walked away from this wall of memories, to search for the bathroom your mother had shown your earlier. 

You felt sick. 

Joel called your name from behind but you shook your head, almost running, but not getting far when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, making you stop. 

„Joel, please…“ you whispered, your eyes closed, taking deep breaths. 

„We have to talk. I…“

But you didn’t hear what he said next because the next hing you knew was you vomiting all over his shoes. 

And then… nothing.

Your head was pounding when you came back to. You could hear voices as if they talked through cotton. 

Groaning you brought your hand up, rubbing it over your temple. 

Fuck. 

You vomited all over Joel and then you….

You passed out?

One hand came to rest over your stomach, your eyes blinking open in panic. 

Were you okay? Was your baby okay? What the fuck happened?

„Hey honey. Slow down. Joel said you passed out?“ You felt your mother take your hand. You were laying on the couch, wondering how you got there. 

A million thoughts went through your head, but on the forefront was your worry about your baby. The baby no one knew about.

You were close to hyperventilating when you felt a hand on your back, soothingly rubbing up and down your spine, guiding you to take deep breaths, his voice soothing you almost instantly. 

Your mother was still holding your hand, looking worriedly at you when you turned your head to look at Joel. He was so close you could smell him.

Tears sprang into your eyes as you looked away from him to your mom. 

„I need to see a doctor,“ you whispered and your mother softly squeezed your hand, Joel’s hand on your back stopping. 

„Are you in pain?“ She asked alarmed. You shook your head. 

„No. But…“ you gulped, looking quickly to Joel before you looked back at your mother. 

„I need to check if the baby is okay,“ you began to cry, your eyes closing, missing the reaction of the people kneeling next to you. 

„Baby?“ Your mother asked. You sucked your bottom lip in, nodding slowly before your eyes opened. 

You saw the tears in your mothers eyes, surprise clearly in her face before she leaned in and hugged you softly, kissing your cheek, your eyes meeting Joel’s whose eyes were fixed on you, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure something out. 

He wasn’t stupid. 

You told him that first night that it had been years since you had been with someone before him. You had no reason to lie to him, not that he knew that. 

His eyes widened when you kept looking at him, clearly having made the math. 

Your mother looked at you with a warm smile. 

„You have to tell me everything. But lets get you to see a doctor first.“

Faith really must have a field day today with you. 

Joel drove you and your mother to the next hospital, your brother having to leave to pick up his boyfriend from work. He made you promise to call once you knew everything was okay. He would be waiting for you at his place. 

And now you were in the maternity wing, waiting for the doctor to come and make an ultrasound to check if everything was okay. 

With Joel waiting with you in the room, as far away from you as he could be without leaving. 

Your mother was trying to get in touch with your doctor back in Seattle, leaving Joel with you to wait. 

Joel hadn’t said a single word to you since you left his house. You felt his eyes on you but you were stubbornly looking everywhere but at him. 

This was not how you planned this. 

Then again, you had never planned this situation, had you?

You thought you would never see Joel again. You were starting to make your peace with that fact. Not only having gotten pregnant by a man whose last name you didn’t even know, no but falling in love with the same man. 

How could you have predicted that you would meet him again like that?

If you allowed yourself to dream about running into him again, it was definitely not while meeting him as your moms new boyfriend. 

The door opened and you looked up, your eyes meeting Joels for a second before you saw an older woman walk in, a warm smile on her face. 

„I read that you passed out today?“ She asked after she introduced herself. 

„Yeah,“ you nodded. 

She sat down on the chair next to the table you were laying on, looking through the file your mother had filled out for your while you had waited. 

„Anything in particular happened before you passed out?“ She asked and your eyes briefly met Joels before you looked at her. 

„Might be a combination of stress and the weather? I am not used to the heat anymore,“ you have her a shy smile. 

She nodded at you, setting the file down. 

„I can see that your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s not too bad yet. Let’s check on the baby, shall we?“ She asked and you nodded. 

Your pulled your shirt up and she warned you softly that this would be a little cold as she put the gel onto your stomach. You winced a little and she winked at you before she reached for the wand. 

„Is this dad?“ She asked you before she looked at Joel. 

You looked at him for the first time then. Really looked at him. His whole body was tensed, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his gaze on you, but it felt like he was looking through you. 

Though his eyes did find yours when he heard the question, probably wondering what you would say. 

And even if you would want to tell the truth, you had to talk to him first. 

So you shook your head before you looked at the doctor again. 

„Just a friend of my mom. She should be here any minute,“ you said and the doctor nodded. 

It took a little while before the heartbeat of your child filled the room. You looked at the monitor, smiling relieved as you saw the little blob, your baby, on the screen. 

„It looks like everything is just fine,“ the Doctor said and you shakily breathed out. She smiled softly at you, clicking some buttons on the machine and you just kept looking at your baby, oblivious to Joel having made his way over to you to take a closer look. 

„You’re at 17 weeks and the little bean looks as healthy as it can be. I want you to take it a little easier. Make sure to take some breaks and if you’re not used to the heat, maybe stay indoors. Where is home?“ She asked

„Seattle,“ you said and she sighed. 

„Too much rain for me. But I can understand why this all was a little much for you here. To be on the safe side, see your Doctor once you get back for a check up,“ she said. You nodded. Her head tilted up and you followed her gaze, surprised to find Joel standing next to you, his eyes fixed on the screen with an unreadable expression. 

„Do you want me to print out a copy for your mom?“ The doctor asked. You nodded, your eyes still fixed on Joel. 

„Can I get three copies maybe? My mom, me and…“ you gulped, „for the father?“ You looked away from Joel as his head turned to look at you. 

The doctor smiled at you. 

„Of course.“

And while she worked, the heartbeat of your baby still filling the empty room you allowed yourself to look at Joel who had tears in his eyes as he looked at you.

Your mother hadn’t stopped asking questions on the whole way back from the hospital. 

„Why didn’t you tell me?“

„I would have eventually.“

„Do you have a boyfriend?“

„No.“

„Who is the father?“

„He’s not in the picture.“

„Why?“

„Because.“

You could feel Joel’s eyes on you the whole way back to your brother, your head stubbornly turned towards the window, watching the Austin Landscape fly by. 

„Are you happy?“ Your mother asked as the truck parked in front of your brothers house. 

It was a good question. Were you happy?

The situation was a mess. It was… straight out of a soap opera but much more complicated. 

But apart from that? You becoming a mom?

„Yeah. I am happy,“ you answered. 

„Then I am happy for you. Gosh, I’m gonna be a Grandma!“ She smiled and you chuckled. 

„Yeah. You are.“

„Are you gonna move back here?“ She asked. You shook your head. 

„I don’t think so. I like Seattle. I have all my friends there and my job,“ you looked at her. She had turned in her seat so she could look at you. 

„I understand. And I don’t want to talk you into something, I know you have a great support system in Seattle. But… you have one here too. Sean would never say it, but he misses you deeply. And you know I would love to see you more,“ she reached over to squeeze your arms softly. 

„Mom…“ you sighed.

„I know. I just wanted to say it,“ you looked away from her, looking at Joel for a moment who hadn’t said anything since leaving the hospital. 

„I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry for all this mess today,“ you said.

„It’s perfectly fine. I’ll walk you to the door,“ your mother said, already getting out of the car, throwing the door closed behind her. You took a deep breath, still looking at Joel as you reached for the third copy of the sonogram, having written your phone number on the back of it. 

Without saying a word, you put it face down on the armrest at the front seat before you got out of the car and walked to your brothers house. 

You did not really expect Joel to call you, but you were still left disappointed. 

Not that you could not understand him. 

He was probably as overwhelmed with the whole situation as you were. But you wanted to talk to him. You had to talk to him. You had a long talk with your brother when you got to his place. You had told him about meeting this man while you were stranded at the airport and how you spend three days with him in your bed. You told him that the rule was to just live in the moment and enjoy the time you had together, but that it left you heartbroken when he just disappeared in the middle of the night, nowhere to be found. 

You also told him that somehow even though you had an IUD and he used condoms every single time but that one time in the shower, that the man had still managed to get you pregnant. 

Sean held you while you talked. His boyfriend John sitting across from you. 

„Sounds to me like you fell for him,“ John said and you groaned. 

„I know. So fucking stupid. How can you fall in love with a man you know nothing about?“ You whined.

„Well you may not know much about him. But you clearly clicked on some way. If he had been looking for a quick fuck, he would have left after the first time you had sex. But he came back to you. Probably until he had to leave himself. And you said he was older. Maybe he didn’t see a future,“ John said. 

„Or maybe he was married,“ your brother grunted and you punched him lightly in the stomach.

„What? You don’t know for certain if he was,“ he argued.

You sat there in silence for a couple of minutes. 

„You have no way of contacting the guy?“ Sean asked softly. 

You could lie. But you wanted to tell someone, and you knew your brother would keep your secret if you asked him. 

So you told him. 

„I do now,“ you whispered.

„What do you mean?“ He asked. 

„You gonna hate me,“ you closed your eyes, hiding against his chest. 

„I can’t hate you. You’re my favourite little sister,“ he teased and you laughed quietly. 

„I am your only sister,“ you reminded him and he shrugged. 

You sucked your bottom lip in, nibbling on it. 

„It was Joel,“ you whispered, feeling your brother tense next to you. 

„I met him almost five months ago in Phoenix. It was before he even met mom,“ you sobbed quietly. His arms tightened around you and you felt him release a long breath. 

„Well fuck. That’s….“ He began.

„A fucking mess?“ you helped.

„You could say that.“

A moment of quiet passed before John said. 

„Did he say anything?“ John asked and you turned your head, resting your cheek on your brothers chest as you opened your eyes to look at his boyfriend.

„Didn’t really get the chance to talk. First I vomited all over him and then mom was always there. I…. Did sneak him my number. So… I hope he calls,“ you said.

„I can talk to him,“ your brother offered but you shook your head. 

„If he doesn’t contact me, his message will be clear. And I have to move on somehow…“

„Do you think you can? Even if you stay in Seattle. Imagine him and mom stay together or get married. He’ll be around all the time. You would see him every time you come and visit.“

„I don’t know,“ you whispered. 

Sean sighed. 

„We gonna figure this out. But not today. It’s been a long day for you. Let’s get you to bed.“

Your mother came over for breakfast the next day, insisting to spend more time with you before you would leave. 

She made excuses for Joel who had to go to work on a construction site. You didn’t really care. 

You hadn’t slept the whole night, you just wanted to go home. 

To erase the last twenty four hours and live in blissful denial. 

It was afternoon when she left, promising to come and see you the next morning before your brother dropped you off at the airport. 

And she did. With a gift basket for mothers to be, bringing tears to your eyes. 

She made you promise to call more, hugging you goodbye when Sean said it was time to get you to the airport. 

You left Austin on a 11am flight. 

And Joel did not call.

[speaknow-sw]

𝓘𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽 𝓐𝒇𝒇𝓪𝓲𝓻 𝓹𝓽.𝟐

Summary : You and Anakin finally found the cans of sodas for the kids but…there’s a bit of a problem. You’re weak in the limbs and he doesn’t want to let you go.

Word count : 1.3k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, married! Anakin Skywalker, cheating, vaginal fingering, confession, a lot of kissing.

AN : Part 2 of Illicit Affair. I changed my writing style because I didn’t liked the first one. Maybe I’ll write a part 3 cuz I love this AU. Special thanks to @bimbo-baggins17 for proofreading the whole thing. Hope you’ll like it.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the realization hit you. The gardenias that mysteriously appeared in your garden were the same as the one sitting in Anakin's closet. You felt a mix of emotions—curiosity, confusion, and something darker, something dangerous.

Anakin loosened his hold on you, his touch lingering longer than it should have. You quickly stepped back, trying to compose yourself, but the tension between you two was palpable. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken words, desires buried beneath layers of propriety.

"These the ones you’re looking for?" Anakin asked, his voice low as he gestured towards the stack of Fanta packs in the closet.

You nodded, barely able to speak, your mind still reeling. "Yes, thank you," you managed, your voice quieter than usual.

He reached in, effortlessly lifting a pack with one hand, his muscles flexing under his shirt. You watched him, unable to tear your eyes away, even as you cursed yourself for letting your thoughts spiral again. He handed you the pack, your fingers brushing his. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you dropped the sodas, stumbling.

Anakin’s arms tightened around you, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. The air between you was charged, electric, as if the universe itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, his heart beating steadily under your cheek. The solidness of him was grounding, yet the intensity of his gaze made you feel like you were floating, untethered.

He didn’t let go immediately. Instead, he lingered, his hands splayed across your back, fingers pressing gently into your flesh as if he were memorizing the feel of you. You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes met his. There was something dark and smoldering in his expression, something that made your pulse quicken.

“Anakin…” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, but it was enough to shatter the fragile silence between you. But there was something else there, too. Something you couldn’t quite name, but it made your breath catch in your throat.

He didn’t answer, not with words. Instead, he dipped his head, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest of touches. It was tentative at first, as if he was giving you one last chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far. But you didn’t move, didn’t resist. Instead, you leaned into him, your mouth parting under his.

That was all the encouragement he needed. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that matched the desperation building inside you. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss became more intense, more urgent.

Anakin moved, turning so that your back was against the wall, his body pinning you there. The coolness of the wall against your overheated skin sent a shiver down your spine, but it was quickly drowned out by the heat of him, the way his hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. His lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his breath warm and ragged against your skin.

You gasped as he found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your knees go weak. His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When he cupped your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple through the thin fabric of your bra, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips.

“Anakin, please…” you murmured, your voice trembling with need.

He groaned in response, the sound low and primal, as if he was barely holding himself back. His hands moved lower, finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it up, his fingers grazing your bare skin as he pulled it over your head. He took a moment to look at you, his eyes dark with desire, before he leaned in again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that stole your breath away.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, his voice trembling with the weight of the admission. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Every moment we spend together, every time I see you… it’s like the rest of the world fades away. I don’t care about anything else, just you.”

He lifted you onto the counter, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped against his mouth as you felt the hard length of him pressing against you, the fabric of your clothes the only thing keeping you from feeling him fully. Your body reacted instinctively, your hips arching toward him, seeking more.

Anakin groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher as he moved. You broke the kiss, your head falling back as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin. Your breathing became ragged, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he kissed his way down to your collarbone.

"Anakin," you gasped, the sound of his name a plea on your lips.

He didn’t respond with words, but with actions, his hands slipping under your skirt, finding the edge of your panties and tugging them down in one swift motion. The cool air hit your heated skin, making you shiver as you felt his fingers brush against your inner thighs, teasing, tormenting. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape, but it was no use.

His touch was relentless, his fingers sliding between your folds, finding you wet and ready. He groaned at the discovery, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was all-consuming. He stroked you gently at first, his fingers exploring, learning what made you shudder, what made you moan his name.

When he finally slid a finger inside you, you gasped, your body arching into him. He added another, his thumb circling your clit as he moved, his rhythm building a fire inside you that threatened to consume you whole. « Sweet little pussy, so tight, so wet f’me. Come sweetheart. You deserve it » he rasped pressing little kisses on your forehead. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

"Anakin, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with need, big tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Please what?" he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy.

"Please… don’t stop."

He didn’t. He pushed you higher, his fingers working you with a skill that left you breathless, your body trembling as you neared your breaking point. When you finally tumbled over the edge, it was like falling into a void, your mind going blank as your body convulsed around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless succession.

He held you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of your release until you were a trembling, panting mess in his arms. When you finally came down, your body sated and your mind spinning, he withdrew his fingers slowly, leaving you feeling empty and achingly aware of how much more you wanted.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. There was a hunger in his gaze, a desire that matched your own, but also something deeper, something dangerous. You knew this was wrong, knew that you were playing with fire, but in that moment, you didn’t care.

You pulled him down for another kiss, your lips meeting his in a clash of tongues and teeth. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

To be continued…

Tags : @xlatinaaxx , @divineani , @bimbo-baggins17

[louvemione]

illicit affairs — d. malfoy (y/n's pov)

synopsis : draco malfoy and astoria greengrass are destined to be together, so why does malfoy end up in someone else's arms all the time? specifically, in your arms.

warning/s : angst, fluff if you squint, a bit 🤏 suggestive, swear words here and there, no voldy au 🙅‍♀️, written in first person, not really cheating bc draco n astoria are not dating, pretend that there's only a 1 year age gap between Astoria & Draco

author's note : illicit affairs by taylor swift! i will most definitely write a part two of this 😎

make sure nobody sees you leave

hood over your head, keep your eyes down

third year

Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass. a perfect pair, really. they're destined to end up in each other's arms by the time they finish Hogwarts, they're destined to spend the rest of their lives together and no one was to get in between them.

not even me

I stared at the top of my four-poster bed, nights like this always had me wondering, why am I doing this? why did I even get into this relationship, if you can call it one, that was bound to end within the next few years? why am I risking everything for someone who would end up in someone else's arms? why am I making promises with someone who will fulfill those with someone else?

my head always spiraled with a list of why's. why am I doing this to myself?

the only time I'd stop is when he finally knocks on the door and I'll quietly slip out of my blankets, making sure not to wake my roommates up, slip on my robes and take his hand to spend the rest of the night giggling and trying not to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris.

and the cycle repeats itself the following day.

tell your friends you're out for a run

you'll be flushed when you return

fourth year

"wait! I don't know how to.." Harry stopped mid-sentence, too embarrassed to do so. I snickered as I lead him to the dance floor where the other champions along with their partners stood, "you'll be fine, just follow my lead"

I had fun dancing and laughing with Harry Potter, so much fun that I had nearly forgotten about the fact that Draco and Astoria came to the ball as each other's date.

if Draco and Astoria weren't dancing so close to us, I might've completely forgotten about it.

"you look gorgeous" Draco whispers the words that were meant for Astoria, only for her to hear.

I ended up spending most of my time at the yule ball with Harry and his friends as I tried to avoid Draco and Astoria at all costs.

but my attempts of avoiding him was soon washed down the drain because a graze of Draco's hand against my waist was all it took for me to excuse myself, "hey, uh, I had so much fun with you guys but I'll just go get some air. it's getting kind of cramped here"

when we returned, even if I was back with the trio who was by the way asking why I looked flushed, I see the smirks Pansy and Daphne sent in my direction when they saw Draco's flushed cheeks and lipstick stain on his lips.

take the road less traveled by

tell yourself you can always stop

lie. everyone knew it's a lie when we said, "we can stop this anytime we want"

because if we can, he wouldn't be in my dormitory, crying and begging for me to stay. him and I wouldn't be waking up longing for each other's embrace.

because no matter how many times we say it, the truth is we don't want to stop.

that's why we didn't do anything to stop.

what started in beautiful rooms

Draco and I met in our first year, during the sorting ceremony. him and I were both put in Slytherin along some newly met friends.

our little set up started during our third year, by that time I was already knowledgeable of his family's arrangement with the Greengrasses. yet, him and I carried on with this.

ends with meetings in parking lots

and that lead us here.

in front of my dormitory, where he would come and fetch me for our daily late night rebellion.

and that's the thing about illicit affairs

and clandestine meetings and longing stares

illicit. is this considered as an illicit affair?

yeah, probably. he's bound to marry someone else but he's here with me, in the restricted section of the library where we'd cost at least a hundred points off of our house if we get caught.

"i love you" Draco whispered against my nape, arms wrapping around my body to pull me into a back hug as he pressed my back against his chest.

I turned around, leaving the dusty potions book I was holding on the table beside us, "i love you too" I whispered back, our lips inches away before he finally closed the gap.

yes, I consider this an illicit affair. because if it isn't, why would I catch Draco's longing stares whenever his father requested for him to spend more time with his future wife?

it's born from just one single glance

I glanced at Draco just in time for our eyes to meet as I walked past him and Astoria.

that alone was all Draco needed for him to excuse himself from his seemingly clueless future wife.

but it dies, and it dies, and it dies

sixth year

"let's stop"

"you're drunk" Draco carries me to his bed

"I'm serious. let's stop. you're getting married after next school year so why should we carry on with this?"

an uncomfortable silence surrounds the room and my tears were already falling before I could even stop them, "I'm tired, Draco. It's unfair to all of us, we can't keep making promises knowing we won't fulfill them. I should've done this a long time ago. and in fact, we never should have gotten together—"

"so you're regretting it? everything we did together? you wish it never happened?

"yes"

a million little times

© louvemione on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost

[ghost-proofbaby]

you showed me colors (eddie munson x fem!reader)

"YOU SHOWED ME COLORS YOU KNOW I CAN'T SEE WITH ANYONE ELSE."

summary: the soulmate au based on "illicit affairs" by taylor swift that almost no one asked for.

warnings: ANGST, HURT/NO COMFORT, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, strategic use of pet names, allusions to sex but none described, reader is referred to as a girl a few times, no use of Y/N, canon compliant. not really edited (cause i'm not putting myself through this shit again).

wc: 15.1k+

a/n: im genuinely sorry for once. blame @abibliophobiaa and @breddiemunson for this. also, thank you @hellfire--cult for helping me with the header!!! please take all those warnings very seriously. please. (also shout out to ash who got her own divider sort of so she'd know when to stop reading because my baby doesn't like angst 😅)

The first thirteen years of your life, you only had second hand accounts to trust when it came to colors. 

The sky is blue, soft and dreamy, nearly translucent until grey wisps of clouds would overrun it on stormy days (although, the clouds, you could make out). Most grass is green, verdant and rich as it sprouts from the hard dirt. Even the yellowing strands are most likely gorgeous, a sign of life and death, a sign that someone once stood atop the green and held their ground. Roses come in a rainbow of shades, but everyone seems to adore the staunch red ones the best. The plush pink of a lover’s kiss-bitten lips, the warm brown fur of the dogs you passed by on the street, the deep violet of the plums your mother proclaimed as her favorite fruit. A range of colors you had only ever heard of, never experienced yourself. 

For thirteen years, all you had was stories. Nothing tangible, nothing solid in your palms. Mere crumbs of a promise of what you would have one day, when you met your soulmate.

When you met him. 

It wasn’t the most pleasant of circumstances in which you two met. You’d spent a lot of your childhood fascinated with the concept and lost in daydreams about it – maybe they’d be a stranger you caught the eye of on the train, or maybe they’d be the one making your coffee at a quaint cafe in a big city someday. Whoever they would be, you wanted them to be made of all the fairytales. You wanted a meeting to challenge every romantic story you’d been fed through your youth, you wanted a love that would shake the very Earth you wandered from the first time your eyes met theirs. 

Your reality seemed as far from earth-quake inducing as they could get, at the time. Looking back, though, you wish you could plead and change your youthful mind. Because the day wasn’t perfect, the situation was terrible shades of melancholy, but none of that really matters; what matters is that on that sunny Wednesday afternoon, you met him. 

Scraped knees. You had scraped knees, sitting embarrassed and frazzled beneath a tree as you tried to sink into the shade surrounding its base and erase the memory of what had just transpired. You could still hear all the other kids’ taunts echoing through your mind, cruel and unnecessary words that were suited to follow you the rest of your days. Comments on your looks and teases of things you couldn’t change. Seeds of insecurity that were hard to swallow at the beginning of your teen youth. 

You were still picking at the edges of your open wounds with slow drying tears still coating your cheeks when his shadow joined the tree’s. 

“Are you alright?” 

You looked up immediately to find a boy standing there. Your eyes had traveled slowly, taking in his baggy jeans with patchwork knees and his oversized faded t-shirt first. Even with the hand-me-down clothes, you could recognize his gangly limbs beneath it all. A frail frame and hunger-panged face. An overgrown buzz cut, no doubt prickly as the hairs stood to attention. Sunken in eyes brimming with concern for you. Whatever shade they were, they had to be dark; they were nearly black in the shades of grey your eyes could currently pick up on.

The thing about soulmates, is the colors don’t happen until you touch your soulmate. 

“I’m fine,” you stubbornly replied, wrapping your arms around your shins and tucking your knees beneath your chin despite the sting. 

“You don’t look fine.”

“Then stop looking.” 

He threw his hands up defensively, shrugging a bony shoulder, “Sorry.” 

He wasn’t sorry. Even with the wince that graced his face, he wasn’t sorry for checking in on you. You knew it the moment you caught the broken skin on his knuckles, nearly matching the cuts on your knees. You had fallen on the pavement as you’d tried to run away from the bullies, determined to not let them see you cry. The entire ordeal had been mortifying. You wished you would have just stood there and cried, let them hear your sobs and let them crown you the school’s newest crybaby. 

“What happened to your hands?” you sniffled, moving to wipe at your nose. Your cheeks were drier now, the skin nearly stiff where the tears marks remained. 

When you mentioned it, he suddenly shot his hands out before him, flexing each hand for emphasis as he looked down with boredom, “What? The cuts? Carver has sharp teeth, ‘s all.”

“Carver?” One of the kids who had just partaken in tormenting you. 

“Yeah,” the boy nodded, suddenly plopping himself onto the ground beside you. You flinched and he grimaced in a silent apology once more, “I think he was in the middle of saying something when I punched him, but that’s not surprising. He always has his big mouth open-” 

He was cut off mid-insult by a soft snort of laughter. Looking up, all of the previous annoyance at his injured knuckles melted away as he caught you fighting back your laughter. 

“What? I say somethin’ funny?” he was biting back his own grin, raising an eyebrow. 

You only laughed more, shoulders shaking now with entertainment rather than sobs. “I- Yeah, sorry, I just- God, you’re right. Carver does have a big mouth.” 

“The absolute biggest.”

“Bigger than the Atlantic ocean.”

His chuckling joined yours, along with a face splitting grin and eyes that you swore shone between the monotonous tones. “God, bigger than the fucking Pacific ocean. Every ocean, as a matter of fact.” 

You both leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, just close enough you could feel his heat through the summer air but not quite touching. Not yet. You let the back of your head thump against the trunk and tried to not think about any of the debris sure to end up in your hair. 

“So…” you sighed once the two of you composed yourself from your laughing fits, “I’m assuming you punched Carver?” 

He only nodded in answer.

“Can I ask why?”

Part of you wanted to assume that the two events were connected; Carver bullying you, and this boy punching him. But you didn’t want to make such a bold assumption about some stranger. Fellow peer or not. 

“Because he made fun of you.” 

The assumption wasn’t so bold. Your chest constricted, you remembered the sting of your knees, heard the echoes of the other students’ laughter at your fall once more. 

“You punched him just because he made fun of me?” you tried to force out a joking tone, as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if it wasn’t making your heart swell, “You don’t even know me.” 

“Doesn’t matter. He made fun of you,” the boy said with concrete decisiveness. There wasn’t a quiver of doubt to be seen, as if the logic made perfect sense to him. Your heart swelled more, painfully so. He looked down at one of his hands for a moment, before suddenly shrugging and rolling his head to look at you, sticking it out towards you, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

A certain security blanketed the moment. This kid, Eddie, had punched a guy for making fun of you. You’d never even spoken to him before that day, much less would you have considered bruising your own knuckles for him. But he had for you. Without hesitation, apparently. Just some boy with a sliver of a gap still between his front teeth, a promise of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and blood on his hands as a reminder of your honor. 

Teachers were certainly going to be coming to find the two of you soon. There would be consequences, most likely more on Eddie’s part than yours, but that didn’t matter. There, in the shade of an oak tree of a middle school you’d soon be departing only to join the ranks of some awful high school with bigger and badder bullies, with larger and crueler problems than skinned knees, you had a friend. 

“I’m-” you started, reaching out your hand to meet his halfways. But you stopped, because the moment your palm met his, it happened. Suddenly, quickly, unexpectedly. It nearly gave you an instantaneous migraine; the flood of color was so overwhelming. 

The first color you saw was the soft, whiskey brown of his eyes. Two warm and comforting orbs, blown out to be as wide as your own, as his face echoed back the same shell-shock on your own. His eyes were brown. Not grey, not black, but something more, something russet. Brown. 

Colors. You were seeing colors for the first time. You both knew what it meant. 

“You,” he breathed out with a boyish grin, letting you catch the pink of the tip of his tongue as he finished your introduction for you, both of your excitement buzzing in the breeze, “are my soulmate.” 

—

Fifteen was the age of awkwardness. Thirteen had been awful, sure, full of changes and growth and such, but fifteen made it seem like a cake walk. 

You wouldn’t have survived it without Eddie. 

Two years into the friendship, the two of you were inseparable. You had always spent your entire childhood assuming that when you found your soulmate, it would all fall into place, romantically speaking. But then Eddie happened. Eddie, your soulmate, fell right into your lap and you realized all of your childish dreams were pale in comparison. 

He was your best friend first and foremost. Even if he hadn’t been revealed as your soulmate on that day, you have no doubt that the trajectory of your friendship would have stayed on this path. From the beginning, both of you decided to Hell with society’s expectations of soulmates. Sure, most people didn’t find their soulmates until later in life, when it made sense for the sparks of romance to fly instantly, but the adults still seemed to expect that when the news broke. Your parents had been concerned, Eddie’s Uncle Wayne had been weary, your teachers had been blatantly confused. 

It was fun for the two of you, though. The thrill of introducing each other as, “This is my best friend. Oh, also my soulmate, but, hey. Technicalities, am I right?” 

Most of the kids in your grade hadn’t met their soulmates quite yet, especially those first few years. A sense of superiority sprouted in both of you to be able to know, to experience, to lavish in a world of color. To have the weight of finding your better part lifted off your shoulders so soon in life. 

You and Eddie had an entire lifetime to figure out the romantic aspect of it all. For now, he was your best friend, and you were his, and that was enough. 

Once you two had entered high school, one thing did become very clear: the parading of being soulmates had to cease. 

Jason Carver had been enough of a menace in middle school, but grew into a fully formed monster once he joined your ranks in high school. People were not kind to Eddie – they hadn’t been in middle school, when he first moved to Hawkins, and they weren’t going to change their tune suddenly in high school. The bullying you had endured had begun to fade, but his age of torment had just begun. 

You never once left his side. It didn’t matter to you if the entire school knew you were soulmates or not. It didn’t even matter that you two were soulmates; he was your best friend, and you would be damned before you left him to battle the tides alone. 

“I hate this,” he mumbled as he sat on the toilet of his shared bathroom with Wayne in their trailer, you kneeling between his legs as you blotted at his split lip with an alcohol wipe, “I should have punched the asshole back.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you scowled, furrowing your brows even deeper in concentration, “And stop talking – you’re making it worse.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but you quieted him with a glare. 

Just as you wouldn’t have survived the Age of Awkwardness without Eddie, he wouldn’t have survived it without you. 

You finished cleaning off the dried blood before tossing the wipe into the overfilled trash can, sighing heavily as you fell back onto the ground and supported yourself against the wall opposite of him. 

You leveled each other into a staring contest, eyes blankly boring into each other with emotionless expressions. 

“You’re lucky Wayne isn’t home, y’know,” you finally broke the silence, shooting a hand out to grab his ankle and give it a squeeze, “He’d probably be driving down to the school right now and-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waved you off, shaking his head, “I know. Trust me, I know. I think Principal Higgins is starting to hate him more than he hates me.” 

“Principal Higgins doesn’t hate you.”

“You’re right – he loathes me.” 

The hand that was squeezing his ankle quickly traveled up to his knee to slap it, “Eddie.” 

He raised his hands up in the air, lifting his brows for emphasis as he exclaimed, “What? You know I’m right, kid.” 

Kid. The loving nickname Eddie had adorned you with the moment he found out he was a mere six months older than you. You hated it, and he loved that you hated it. 

“The day you’re right is the day pigs fly, old man.”

Old man. The nickname that served as your attempt at a rebuttal. It didn’t work, not as intended. 

He chuckled softly at that, as he usually does when you call him that, and only smacked his palms onto his thighs, “Well, doc, I must say – you’ve done an exquisite job. Am I free to go?” 

You tried to fight your smile, tried to linger in the anger sparked from seeing Eddie hurt. Your disdain wasn’t directed at him; it was always a loaded gun pointed at whoever dared to lay a hand on your boy. You probably could have had a spotless reputation without Eddie Munson in your life, but you’d found your fists quick to fly in his defense. 

Your parents hated it. Wayne secretly adored it, even when he’d still join in scolding you and Eddie alike on avoiding violence. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, before grabbing his calves through denim to stop him. Dark blue denim, a deep shade of navy that you still hadn’t grown used to seeing. You hadn’t even realized jeans came in so many different shades until you met Eddie, and you’d always chastised him when he’d opt for a boring black pair, “But first, a payment is required.”

“A payment?” Eddie tilted his head, looking down at you curiously.

“A payment.” 

“And what would this payment be?” 

“A movie night,” you grinned wildly, finally letting your grip on him go, taking in the chestnut highlights of his curls and the red font of his t-shirt, a band shirt you’d never heard of but that he had recently gotten into, “Snacks provided by my loving host, you, of course.” 

He exaggerated his pondering, bringing a hand to his chin, stroking dramatically. As if he was ever capable of saying no to you. 

“Hm,” he hummed, his voice echoing through the tiny space and encasing you in warmth. As serene as that first summer day when he’d taken the leap of sitting down next to you in the grass, back to a tree, palm in your palm as colors had swarmed your vision, “I suppose that can be arranged.” 

—

Movie nights were a frequent occurrence. A sanctuary from the shit show of your small town. Sometimes, they had been the illusion of a bargain like that night, and others, they were an unspoken agreement. You’d show up to Eddie’s trailer or he would end up on your doorstep, your favorite candies in hand, and the two of you would just know. No words needed as you’d situate yourself on whoever’s couch, legs intertwining and blankets shared across laps. A bowl of popcorn that usually ended up being spilled inevitably. 

Movies were more fun in color. Some of your friends didn’t get it, still living in a world of black and white, but Eddie loved to listen to your rambles about how the vivid shades appeared across the screen. He loved the way your eyes would light up passionately, he loved how you still smiled so widely at special effects that were made more poignant by this gift the two of you had been given. 

Time. You two had been given the time most soulmates weren’t allotted. A gift you always thanked the Universe for. 

The latest Slasher film that had been released was currently displayed on the small television in Eddie’s living room, the two of you practically molded to the worn cushions of his sofa. Wayne had left within the first ten minutes for his shift, bidding the two of you a farewell with the warning of behaving. Vibrant reds splashed across the screen as one of the protagonists takes a stabbing, and while you should be shying away from the gruesome scene, you can’t help but stare in awe.

Even after years of experiencing colors, they took away your breath.

“Jesus,” you sighed wistfully, “How do they even make the fake blood? It’s so… so…”

“Red?” Eddie laughed from the other side of the couch, prodding at your thigh with his sock clad foot, “Probably food dye. Maybe some corn syrup.”

“It’s just so bright,” you eagerly leaned in closer to the TV, squinting with a wide smile, unaware of his stare. 

He was quiet for a moment, simply enjoying your joy. Your awe and wonder at the world, the way it seemed as if you two had just met that day rather than years before. As if colors were still a fascinating color to you. Eddie had grown used to them, let them become a part of his daily routine, but you always seemed to shine a new light on them for him. 

Around you, all the colors seemed a little bit brighter. 

“How do you do that?” he whispered so softly, it nearly got lost in the noise of the movie’s climax.

You hummed in response, eyes never leaving the screen. You were watching the movie in fascination, and he was watching you in serenity. 

His miracle. His gift. His soulmate. 

“You just…” he trailed off, no longer caring about the movie, “You always treat them like they’re brand new.” 

It caught your attention. The way his tone was so… velvety, so caring, so affectionate. You looked at him, “I treat what like they’re brand new?” 

“The colors.”

“Because they are.” 

The same assuredness as he used that very first day. As if it were obvious, as if it were simply a matter of fact and not such an endearing trait. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and it only made his heart clench tighter. 

You were his soulmate. 

“We lived without them for thirteen years, old man-”

“Thirteen years and six months, in my case,” he piped up in interruption, wearing a Cheshire grin. 

You nodded and rolled your eyes, “Yes, in your case. Thirteen years, give or take. I just… I don’t know. They still… they still get to me. I don’t think I can ever get used to them. Are you?” 

“What? Used to them?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t know how to explain it to you, not at that moment. How could he articulate to you that after so many years, the colors had dulled ever so slightly? The novelty had worn off, had run its course. The only time they’d ever become as vivacious as the first time was when he looked at you. 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t explain it to you, so he only shrugged, “I guess.” 

I guess, except when I see the color of your eyes, and I realize they’re my favorite color. Except when I notice the varied shades of your hair, and realize how lucky I am to see them in their full glory rather than shades of grey. Except when you wear that favorite mauve lipstick of yours, and I can’t get over the shape of your lips. Except when you wear that pretty red dress, and your confidence has my head spinning. 

I guess, except when it’s you. 

“Well, that’s just sad,” you huffed, focusing back on the movie after kicking gently at his shin. You lapsed into a comforting silence for a few more minutes, letting the movie fill the air. The same cycle; you watched the screen, he watched you, and the Universe watched both of you with a smile as it knew that the right choice had been made. The two of you were meant for each other. In this life. In the past lives. In the next lives. The two of you were the epitome of soulmates, even if the concept had never existed before. 

Thank the Universe it existed. Thank the Universe that he found you that day, below an oak tree, scraped knees and all. 

His voice shook as he quietly confessed, “I love you, you know that, right?” 

The movie faded in a blur for you instantly. Your neck could have snapped from how quickly you turned your attention to him. “What?”

“I love you,” his voice continued its waver, not from being unsure but from pure emotion. The flood of love that pulsed through his veins currently. 

You smiled, the apples of your cheeks punctuated and the chip in your tooth from your youth he hadn’t had the privilege of being apart of on showcase, “Well, yeah. Duh. I’m your soulmate. You kind of have to love me.” 

“Even if we weren’t soulmates,” he rushed to clarify, suddenly leaning forward and grabbing your knee beneath blankets that smelled of home, “Even if you weren’t my soulmate, I would love you.” 

Your face softened. He wished he would have kissed you in that moment. 

But the vulnerability was terrifying, and all that could echo through your mind is the fact that you two had time. So instead of matching his serious tone, you joked, “Well, it’s a good thing I am your soulmate, then. It might have been awkward for your hypothetically soulmate you would have had instead in that scenario, trying to explain why you love your best friend more than them.” 

“Shut up,” he laughed, squeezing your knee tighter, “I’m being serious, kid. I love you. I really, really fuckin’ love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“You’re only saying that because I’m the reason you see colors.”

“Fuck the colors,” he was quick to reply, “The Universe can take back the colors, as long as I still have you.” 

There it is. The earthquake you dreamt of as a little girl. The trailer’s across the park never felt it, the kids surely getting into trouble in the forest behind Eddie’s home didn’t notice it, but you felt it. A rumble through your chest, a groundbreaking discovery, a world-ending confession. Your world began, and your world ended, and your world restarted with Eddie Munson. 

“You don’t believe me,” he noted, suddenly shimmying out from beneath the blanket.

“Wait, hold on-”

“Stay here.” 

You stayed frozen in your seat, wide eyes following his broad back and the army green of his t-shirt. No longer a frail frame, face filling out with puberty. He was becoming a man. No longer the young boy who took punches and threw them back twice as hard. 

He was becoming a man, he was your soulmate, and he loved you. He loved you enough he would give up what everyone else considered the greatest gift, just for you. 

Eddie Munson didn’t need colors to love you so ardently. And you knew, at that moment, that the same could be said for you. You would have loved him no matter what. The moment his shadow had spread over you beneath wide leaves and simmering heat, he was destined to hole up in your heart, never to leave again. 

By the time he had returned to the living room, you had paused the movie, eyes locked on where he emerged from the hallway with a polaroid camera in hand and a mischievous grin gracing his features. The camera had been a joint gift from your parents and his uncle the previous Christmas. 

Your eyes weren’t on the camera. They were on him. His hair had grown over the years, wild auburn curls finally surpassing his ears. The awkward style made for ridiculous bed head, something you’d been witness to many mornings after impromptu sleepovers. 

You were fascinated with the way the sunlight caught each strand as they bounced with his eager steps. The trace of gold you could outline. Shades of autumn you loved to run your fingers through when he’d offer the opportunity.

He shook the camera into the air for emphasis, finally catching your eyes’ attention, before he propelled himself back down onto the couch across from you, both of you sitting up instead of being reclined now. “Let me show you something.” 

“O-Okay,” you stuttered out, unsure. 

He fiddled with the camera for a few moments before he brought it up to his face, resting against his cheek as his eye peered into the small peephole. You were so busy memorizing him like that, that the flash of the camera took you off guard and effectively blinded you for a few seconds. 

“What the-” you started with a scowl, hands flying up to rub your knuckles into your eyes in a sorry attempt to rush away the stars blocking your vision. 

“Just wait,” he insisted, snatching up the polaroid the moment it printed from the camera. When you flashed him an unconvinced look, he continued on, “Trust me.” 

He didn’t have to ask twice. You always trusted him with your entire being, whether for better or for worse. 

The polaroid was slow in developing. Eddie hummed to fill the silence, occasionally fanning around the small capture of you that was slowly filling out in color rather than blinding white. You spent your energy on trying to decipher what song was stuck in his head and not focus on how slow those damned photos always seemed to be in coming to fruition. 

It had only been a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity when you finally gave up on figuring out the song and succumbing to your impatience with a sigh, “This is the world’s slowest magic trick ever.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but tossed you the camera. You thanked the Heavens for fast reflexes as you were able to catch it rather than let it fall to the ground. The two of you would have never heard the end of it if you managed to break such an expensive gift. 

“Hey!” you shouted as you clutched the camera tightly to your chest, “Be careful with this thing, Eddie. It’s fragile.”

His eyebrows raised from behind where he held up the polaroid he took of you to his face, “Is it? Can we really be sure that it’s that fragile if we don’t knock it around for good measure?” 

“We can,” you snappily replied, glaring down at the camera and fighting amusement, “If you want to throw it around, be my guest. But you’ll explain to Wayne why you broke it – not me.” 

“Of course, kid,” he grinned so wide that it spread to his cheeks peeking out either side of the photo still obnoxiously close to his face, “What else is a best friend good for? Basically signed up to be your permanent scapegoat until the end of time the moment I gave you the gift of colors.”

“And yet, I’m the one usually talking us out of trouble,” you dramatically called back, finally looking up at him and holding up the camera, “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“I dunno. Break it, take a picture of me. The choice is yours, sweetheart.” 

He still hadn’t put the photo of you down, so you finally reached across the sea of blankets to yank on his forearms. Once you were faced once more with those warm doe eyes rather than the blank back of a photo, you narrowed your eyes at him in indecision. 

He was still smirking. Wide enough that his teeth just barely peeked out between his barely parted lips. You recalled the tales of kiss-bitten lips, the way you’d heard adults describe that deeper shade of pink, and for a second, you considered that it would look good on Eddie. Something about imagining him flushed and bruised by love and lust rather than malice made your gut twist stormily. 

“Picture it is,” you muttered, “Put that stupid polaroid down and smile for the camera, pretty boy.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” 

The camera went off mid-teasing, his dimples on full display and eyes shining wonderfully with the flash of the camera. 

“Nope,” you mumbled, “Just said it so you’d keep smiling.” 

It was a lie. A horrible, pathetic, and badly-veiled lie. 

The photos developed faster. Yours is finally in full color and detail by the time the two of you can make out the shape of Eddie in his, and he was quick to toss it to the side before he shoved yours into your lap. 

“There, look.” 

It wasn’t anything magnificent to look at. Just another photo. The same old color of your hair, baby hairs frizzing at the edges. Same old eyes fighting from crinkling in adornment at the boy before you. You weren’t anything special, not in your eyes. But Eddie’s expectant stare told you that there had to be something more there, something he was waiting for you to pick up on. You scoured the background of the photo for pops of color only to come up empty-handed. All you could find were the tired dark tones of the Munson’s furniture and living room behind yourself in the picture.

“Eddie, what am I supposed to be looking at?” you squinted, bringing the photo closer and trying to figure out the useless puzzle he had presented you with, “It’s just a picture of me-”

“Exactly,” he interrupted, “A picture of you. My soulmate. That right there,” he leaned over and plucked the photo from your hands, holding it up tauntingly just out of reach, “Is a picture of the girl I love. A picture of the one person who makes colors worth seeing, and makes colors worth losing.” 

The sentiment had you choked up. 

“You’re my favorite person,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he held up his hand with his knuckles facing you as he put down the polaroid in his lap, “Have been since that very first day.” 

There was still a faint scar, right there, clear as day. It casted over the knuckles of his ring and middle finger as a permanent reminder of that fateful day. As if the colors weren’t enough, as if the swell of your heart inside your chest wasn’t enough reminder of the love and care you’d always felt pulsing from Eddie.

You reached out to the coffee table suddenly, picking up the photo of him, glad to see it finally developed. You didn’t even glance at it before you held it up to him, “And this is a photo of my favorite person.”

“You didn’t even look at the picture.”

“I don’t need to,” you breathed out, moving the picture out of your vision to look at him dead in the eyes, “He’s right here in front of me. In full color, treating me far kinder than I deserve.” 

His touch was ginger as he pinched the corner of the photo and took it from your grasp, placing it down atop the polaroid of you, “Don’t do that. You always deserve my kindness – you deserve the entire world’s kindness. I’ll kick the ass of anyone who argues otherwise.”

A soft and shy smile ripped at your lips, made the corners and your cheeks ache as you shrugged, “Whatever you say, old man.” 

He only looked at you, only wore the lovesick look of a man face-to-face with his soulmate.

The movie was long forgotten. All snacks carefully put on the table before Eddie threw the blanket off of the two of you and scooted backwards while leaving a space large enough for you between his legs.  

“C’mere,” he beckoned, motioning for you to crawl forward and fit your head to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you impossibly close to him, until your cheek was tight to his t-shirt and your ear was thundering with his racing heartbeat. 

You melted into him easily, letting your own arms encase him to the best of their abilities in this position. You took a few selfish moments to just be there with him, to just let his words sink in beneath your skin and the reality of them weigh heavy on you. The heavier it weighed, the further into his embrace you pressed. 

The warmth of serenity and peacefulness of the picture perfect moment nearly lulled you to sleep. But even in the drowsiness, you felt the kiss he pressed to the crown of your head. 

“I love you, too,” you admitted, muffled by his chest. You hoped he felt the words and wouldn’t teasingly make you look him in his eyes as you confessed, “I love you so fucking much. I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“Sure you could-” he began, but was cut off but the abrupt lifting of your head, just as he fingertips had started on a path down your spine.

“I couldn’t,” you insisted, “I really, really couldn’t. I need you to stick around for a long time, Munson. I’m not in the business of losing my soulmate until we’re old and grey and gross. I want to keep you around until I lose count of all your wrinkles and weird moles.”

He chuckled, and the force vibrated against your shoulder digging into his torso. 

You retrieved those two polaroids before you resettled against him, your back now pressed to his chest as you held the two snapshots side by side for both of you to look out. 

He was right. You think you get it. 

When you look at the photo of yourself, you see nothing extraordinary. But when you look at the photo of Eddie, everything just… the world seemingly stops, all moving parts suddenly snapping into place. A boy vibrant with color and glee, a boy who tugged on every heartstring you’d hung in your chest throughout your lifetime. It sent warmth to every crevice of you, from the top of your head where the ghost of his lips still lingered to the tips of your toes wiggling beside his within thick socks. 

It’s more than an earthquake or the world stopping. Eddie doesn’t just stop or begin your world – he is your world. 

A world of wild hair, charming smiles, unfiltered laughter and fierce adoration. Even the brightest shades out there that you had yet to discover were dim compared to the boy photographed in time for you. 

His arms slide around your shoulders, tugging you in even closer,“Just out of curiosity, what is your cap on wrinkles you can count? Because I’ve seen Wayne, and some photos of my old man, and let me tell you – time is not kind to us Munson men.” 

You rolled your head and pressed a kiss to one of his forearms before smashing your cheek into it, breathing deeply as his fingertips drew random shapes over the spot on your chest that your heart rests beneath. 

“As many as it takes, old man.” 

“Whatever you say, kid.” 

You brought a hand up to curl around the arm, right beside when you kept your cheek nuzzled. He finally laid his palm flat against your chest, and you wonder if he can feel the way each beat of your heart called out his name. It was okay if he didn’t – he had all the time in the world to figure it out. 

—

“I just don’t understand why you’re so mad!”

“I’m not mad, Eddie – I’m fucking pissed!” 

“Okay, then I don’t understand why you’re so pissed!” 

Seventeen is the age of being reckless and redundant. Of big feelings and reckless decisions. It is the time in your life for being an absolute idiot. 

Eddie Munson was proof of it as the two of you stood outside of his van, the whistle of the winds around you two from the impending storm lost on your current screaming match. 

“Figure it out,” you seethed, stomping your feet almost childishly as you began to turn away from him, “And while you do that, leave me the fuck alone.” 

“I- Hey!” he reached out for you, but you’re already quickening your pace and hopping up onto the sidewalk, “Hey! Don’t fucking walk away from me!” 

You didn’t reply, only widening your strides. 

He called out your name, and you heard his frustrated groan before he easily caught up with you. 

Damn him and his newfound height. 

“Would you just listen to me?” he shouted, latching onto your bicep and spinning you around harshly to face him.

You yanked yourself out of his touch quickly, eyes blazing, “Why should I? I’ve seen what I needed to see, Eddie. Just go back inside to your preppy girlfriend. Forget about me. Pretend like she’s never stood to the side while her boyfriend bullied you like- like- like some asshole.”

His hair was longer now. Ringlets that cascaded to brush over the top of his shoulders – shoulders that had broadened impressively as he neared the end of his youth. His newest clothing staple covered them; a denim vest you’d helped him distress and sew multitudes of patches onto, a display of his favorite bands that had only painted a new target onto his back. 

Satan worshiper. That’s what they called your soulmate in terrified whispers amongst the halls at school. That’s what all the PTO mothers’ eyes silently cursed when they’d see him with you at the grocery store. 

He’d made quite the image for himself. And you’d stayed by his side, defending his honor at every chance. Your best friend, your soulmate. 

Only to find him eating the face off of some cheerleader at that goddamned party. 

Yeah, you didn’t need to listen to him. You really had seen enough. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” he waved his arms wildly, the storm roaring loader with his increased volume.

“What is she then?” you insisted with venom, crossing your arms and effectively closing yourself off from him as you took another step back, “Just some one night stand? Some fun to have before you have to accept that you’re shackled to me for the rest of your life?” 

You hated the way your eyes burned. You cursed the tears gathering as you glared at him viciously, masking all the pain with as much rage as you could muster. 

He wouldn’t even kiss you, his soulmate. But he would kiss her. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” he warned lowly, tone no longer making a spectacle of the two of you, “You know that’s not how I see it.” 

“You won’t even kiss me.” 

He was stunned into silence. As you spat out the words, the first few tears slipped.

It was about more than the pretty blonde girl you’d found him with. It was about more than the fact he was kissing someone else. 

“I… What?” he whispered, his entire body going slack with defeat. 

The tears fell more rapidly now as you replayed the moment in your head. The two of you were only at the stupid party for Eddie to deal weed from some weird guy he’d met in the arcade, a way to make extra cash. Cash he claimed he was putting towards your future together. You had no idea how you’d gone from sitting on the couch together to tipsy, joining a circle of fellow peers who momentarily forgot their cruelness between shots of whiskey and pours of vodka. 

You were going to hate the game of Spin the Bottle for the rest of your life. You were sure of it. 

When Eddie’s turn had arrived, when the neck of that dingy beer bottle casted shades of ambers in your direction, you had been so excited. Your heart had been in your throat, your head dizzy with the excitement of him finally kissing you. Your soulmate by Nature, your best friend by choice, finally would be kissing you. You had been so sure it was an affirmation from the Universe that the right choice had been made when it came to the two of you. That it was all real, and the colors weren’t a product of your delusion. 

And then he said no. 

“You wouldn’t kiss me,” you choked out, pulling your arms around your torso tighter to fight back any shivers or shaking, “The bottle landed on me, on your soulmate, and you wouldn’t even fucking kiss me. The one person you should have kissed. And you didn’t.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, a deer caught in your headlights, as he started to stutter out a sorry excuse. 

You didn’t want to hear it. You only threw your head back in bitter laughter, spinning on your heel and preparing to leave him behind once more.

“Wait,” he begged, grabbing your shoulder this time. 

You shrugged it off harshly, “For what? For you to make up some bullshit excuse for it? I don’t want to hear it, Eddie. I get it. I’m so sorry that I’m your soulmate. I’m so sorry you’re stuck with me. I’m so-” 

He cut you off by rounding in front of you, blocking your escape route and cradling each of your cheeks with determination as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze, “Stop putting words in my mouth! That’s not why I did it, okay? It’s not!” 

Your tears fell more rapidly, so quickly that his thumbs couldn’t have kept up with swiping them away if he tried. Instead, he let them puddle against his palms, focus solely on your eyes as he bore into them and whispered, “That’s not why I said no. And it’s not why I kissed that girl, okay? You’ve got to believe me, kid.” 

“Don’t-” you started, but he shook his head, determined.

“No, no. Hear me out. Please. You know I don’t see it that way. You- You’re- I’m not shackled to you. You aren’t some sort of damnation for me. Do you get that? You aren’t some life sentence or burden – you’re….” he trailed off, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. Constellations in his lashes to match your own. “I said no because I’m terrified. O-Okay? I said no to kissing you because… because… what if you’re the one shackled to me?” 

The crack in his voice reverberated through you. Aftershocks rattled your bones at his confession. 

“I- We haven’t crossed that line. And I just… if I crossed that line, and if you decided I wasn’t what you wanted…” his eyes searched yours for answers you couldn’t provide to him, not as your brows creased and your chest tightened, “If I kissed you and you decided that the Universe made a mistake, that I’m not actually your soulmate… I- Fuck, I couldn’t take that, kid. I couldn’t.” 

You’re no longer poised to run, to escape him and all the emotions drowning your lungs. You felt your shoulders drop, your defenses burned to ash as you stood with two solid feet on the quivering ground below you. 

There were a million reassurances on the tip of your tongue, but instead you only said, “Why did you kiss her?” 

The question that had pinned you as a flight risk. Because if what he told you was true, and you did believe him, then it didn’t make sense. Nothing that had happened that night made sense if what he said was true. 

“I don’t know,” he seemed even more confused than you, “And- God, I’m fucking sorry for such a shitty cop-out of an answer. But I just… I don’t know. I just did. She was there, and she kissed me, and I kissed back. I pretended she was you, like a fucking idiot.”

The honesty threatened to shatter you, but you decided it was better to hear his truth than risk being lied to. You could move past the anguish in both your eyes, the confusion and the hurt having brewed – you wouldn’t have been able to move past some half-assed lie in an attempt to save your feelings. 

“I regret it,” he whispered, “The moment I kissed her back, I regretted it.”

“Why?”

An opportunity to seal a bandage over the bleeding wound. A chance for him to make it all better. 

“Because she isn’t you. She isn’t my soulmate - she never could be. It’s you, and it was always going to be you, even if the Universe didn’t agree with me.” 

You took a moment to try and picture a world in which the man stood before you wasn’t your soulmate. A world where your palms touched, and your world hadn’t exploded in technicolor. Another Universe where the first color you had seen hadn’t been warm, brown, honey coated eyes. A twisted timeline where you hadn’t been awarded the gift of memorizing the red of his guitar, his sweetheart, or the calm blue tint his room bathed in every early morning. A world where you don’t know the shade his skin turns in during golden hour, or can’t see the way his few tattoos he’d gathered in the past year on his skin are actually a fading shade of blue-green rather than stark black. A world where you couldn’t pick up the Fruity Pebbles stuck between his teeth as he rushed to class late and you teased him mercilessly for it. A world without color - a world without the guarantee of Eddie Munson. 

A breeze roared by, and you could hear the Universe you were in whispering to stop it, to not do this. Because you weren’t living in a world without color. Your world had burst to life when your palm met his. You knew all the colors of his lifeline like the back of your hand. 

“It wasn’t worth it?” You knew the answer. You still needed to hear him say it.

And say it he did, nodding in confirmation, “It wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth it.” 

He could have left it at that and you would have offered him your forgiveness anyways. Even if the bond formed between you two didn’t feel like a shackle of chains binding you two together, you knew that there would always be an invisible string wound around your soul and connected to his. You could have spent longer being mad, you could have still walked yourself home and left him broken in the middle of that neighborhood street. But even if you did, you would have eventually found your way back to him. Whether you left in anger, whether you left in sadness, whether you left in mourning – your final destination remained the same. Him.

You may have all the time in the world with Eddie, but even a second spent upset with him felt like a second wasted. 

Not even forever felt like long enough. You knew that now, glaringly obvious by the chain of events the night had followed. 

And so he could have left it at that. And all would be well. Wounds would heal and time would soothe the ache that echoed. But he didn’t. 

He took a step closer. Took a shaky, deep breath. And then another step. One foot after the other until he was toe-to-toe with you as he breathed out, “You’re my future. You’re everything to me. Soulmate or not, you’re all I want. I want to grow old with you until I lose count of your wrinkles, and then some.” 

His chin tilted down, lips daring closer and closer to yours as your stare into his eyes refused to waver. 

Deep, deep brown. Endless, molten, a kind of comforting that says you’re home, you can rest now. How fortunate you were to see the twisting of lively carob and umber rather than lifeless greys. 

Your eyes tried to flutter close, but you couldn’t let them, not yet. Not until he was close enough to feel his breath on your chin before he let out a raspy, “Baby.” 

You folded immediately, took the plunge as your eyes finally shut and you pressed forward with fervent. 

It wasn’t like the movies. It wasn’t fluid and instantaneous. There was hesitancy and there was awkwardness, and your noses bumped one anothers hard enough to make both of you chuckle into the rarity of space left between your mouths as you both gasped in waves of air before returning to one another. His hand took its time before it grabbed your waist, and it trembled the entire time. Your arms shook the entire way they lifted until they wrapped around his neck and shoulders, unsure of where exactly to lay comfortably. 

But none of that mattered. Because he was kissing you – your soulmate was finally kissing you. And you had never kissed another soul before that night, but you knew immediately you’d never want to kiss another soul. 

It wasn’t like the movies or fairy tales, but it was enough. 

And you knew he felt the same way when the kiss was broken by the grin that split his lips just as the sky began to spit out the beginning of its inevitable downpour. 

—

You hadn’t heard from Eddie in three days. Which, fair enough. Finals season was nearly upon you two and you knew he had been stressed. Since the night of that party nearly a year before, you two had become even more inseparable if possible. You two had finally crossed a line, had finally accepted your status of soulmates, and no one would dare to demand the two of you detach from each other’s sides once you made the announcement that you were officially together. 

Wayne had worn a knowing smile. Your parents had simply warned Eddie to not hurt you (as if that was even an option for him at this point). Even Principal Higgins had offered a polite smile when he caught you two holding hands in the hallway, surprisingly not commenting on the public display of affection. You two were officially dating, officially succumbing to the status quo of what soulmates should be. 

Everyone had already sort of known there was something there between you two, but making it official removed any sliver of doubt any of them may have harbored. 

And so it was fine if Eddie needed space. It had been that way before your first kiss, occasionally learning how to stand as your own entities rather than solely a joint force, and it could continue to be that way after your first kiss. 

But after three days, you had started to worry. 

Pacing your room, you told yourself you were being ridiculous. This was fine. Space was good – space was needed. 

Space didn’t help with all your what-ifs, though.

What if he was hurt? What if he was sick? What if he was mad at you? What if the longer you gave him that space, the starcher of a revelation he would have that he didn’t need you? What if the two of you had flown into all of this too fast, too quickly, too soon? It may have taken years to get there, but what if Eddie suddenly decided the last year had been too much? 

You were in your car, driving recklessly down the streets that would lead to his house, before you could even think of another what if. 

If it was that last thought that crossed your mind, if everything between the two of you had become simply overwhelming for him, you convinced yourself it would be okay. It would be just fine, you could handle it as long as he told you as much to your face rather than hiding behind distance put between you. It remained a mantra spinning through your storming mind the entire drive; it will be fine. It will be okay. As long as he says it, I can handle it. Anything for him.

You never considered that one of the other possibilities was more likely. Not until you had your car haphazardly parked in front of the Munson’s trailer, fist banging on their front door before Wayne threw it open with tired eyes and wrinkles bunched in concern. 

“Is he here?” you breathed out in lieu of a proper greeting, breathless from your jog up to the damn porch from your car that you hadn’t even bothered with locking up.

It will be fine. It will be okay. As long as he says it, I can handle it.

Wayne understood immediately, stepping to the side as he nodded and motioned for you to come in, “He’s in his room. But listen, he got some news, and he’s not do-”

You didn’t hear the rest of Wayne’s warning, too busy storming past him and flying to Eddie’s bedroom door. You didn’t even knock, bursting through the door and already fighting tears as you geared up to hear Eddie say that he needed time and space, that he had gotten sick of you, that he wanted to experience more life before you guys really gave any of this a fighting chance. 

“Eddie, can you please tell me why you’ve just up and disappeared-” you cut off your plead the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He wasn’t facing the door. He was curled up in bed, back to you, clad in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. You could see the stubborn knots that had built up in his hair, immediately keyed in on the way he was trying to collapse into himself. His knees were nearly buried in his chest, and if you squinted into the dark room, you’d see the outline of his spine beneath the flash of skin peaking out from where the back of his shirt had raised. 

It wasn’t just the state of him; the state of the room also immediately silenced you. 

Almost as if a war path had been torn through it days before, the bedroom was messier than normal. Eddie was never the most organized or pristine person, but he kept his living space well enough to… well, live. Kept the floor always within sight, tried to never let any collection of trash overflow on the tops of his dressers or desk. He even found himself emptying his ashtrays without your reminding most of the time. Usually, most of the clutter simply came from mountains of papers detailing campaigns or writing new songs, or different sets of dice being left out from planning said campaigns. A t-shirt here, a pair of ripped jeans there – sure. He was a teenage boy. It was expected.

It looked as though a level five hurricane had hit Eddie Munson’s room. 

Clothes strewn everywhere, dresser drawers thrown open and never closed. Beer cans collected across each surface and both ashtrays were overfilling with cigarette butts. You even spotted two half smoked joints on his bedside table. His sweetheart had been taken off of its wall mount and laid to rest on the floor. He would never have let his prized possession be discarded like that. Ever.

Your voice came out weak as you took a step closer to the bed, “Eddie?” 

You’re surprised he heard your whisper. He stirred, and your eyes followed the dust particles dancing in the single stream of sunlight that was bursting through a hole forgotten in his makeshift curtains. Navy blue sheets the two of you once used to make a pillow fort in the Munson living room, thinned to the illusion of a sky blue in some patches.

You’d always warned him they make shit curtains; he’d always shrugged and said it added to his feng shui. 

“Eddie,” you whispered again, knees knocking against the edge of the mattress as you looked down at his broken form, “I… What happened? Are you… are you okay?” 

You hadn’t known how to approach it. Whatever happened was even worse than the first time he’d received a phone call from his dad in prison. 

He mumbled something against the pillow he has one arm curled under.

“What?” you questioned, nearly ready to climb into that damn bed and force him onto his back, force him to look at you if only so you could guarantee there were no tear tracks on his cheeks. 

You don’t have to, though. Eddie finally loosened his grip on that pillow and rolls ever so slightly, just enough for you to see half his face and feel your heart break at the confirmation of tears. Translucent pink eyes, glossy wet cheeks, the tip of his nose glowing as his gaze met yours. He looked tired.

“I’m getting held back,” he croaked, “I fucking- I flunked. I’m not graduating.” 

You nearly sighed in relief. For his sake, you don’t, but the weight on your shoulders lifted immediately. 

“Oh, sweet boy,” you murmured, giving into the need to crawl into the bed. You folded your knees as you situated yourself on the bed behind him, and the moment you’re situated, he wasted no time twisting himself to face you and bury his face into your side, “Why didn’t you call? You had me losing my goddamn mind-“ 

A strangled sob rattled against your side. One of his hands gripped your thigh, fingertips holding on for dear life, “Because your soulmate is a fucking loser.” 

Your chest cracked further, a valley beginning to form as a hand buried into the back of his head, holding him to you as the other hand moved to rub his back in soothing motions.

“My soulmate is not a fucking loser,” you tried to keep a gentle tone rather than scold him at the moment. He didn’t need scolding — he needed patience, he needed care, he just needed you to be there, “Keep talking about him that way, and I’ll have to get the fighting gloves.” 

He wetly laughed into your t-shirt, and you were sure that there would be tear stains when he finally lifted his head, “I’m the one who taught you how to throw a punch, baby.” 

“Exactly. Which means I’ll have you on your ass in ten seconds flat.” 

It was a few minutes of silence that followed; just you holding him, just him clinging onto you. His life line — his single ship of hope in what had been a terribly rocky sea the last few days. An irreplaceable peace settled across all the wounds and damage that had been done in private. You had been right. He should have called you immediately. He should have known that if anyone could make the situation feel less like his world was ending, it was you.

His soulmate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you questioned in a soft, lulling tone. The endless patterns you’d drawn on his back had nearly put him to sleep, “Maybe be a bit kinder to yourself this time?”

“I just…” he started, finally removing his face from being buried against you, “I sort of had a hunch. O’Donnel wouldn’t round my grade, you know? And I’ve skipped a lot of classes, I know. But hearing Higgins say it just… just…”

“Made it real?” you offered a weary ending to his sentence.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Real. It made it really fucking real.” 

He didn’t feel judged at that moment. He felt seen as you continued on, “It is real, and it sucks. But it’ll be okay, Eds. I mean, I was already planning on the community college for my first year, maybe even taking a year off. If you need any help with classes, you just gotta ask me. Don’t forget I was one of O'Donnell's pets, as unfortunate as it was. I know how to work that woman into rounding up some grade.”

You rambled on a little more, all the while still stroking his hair and back, offering even more solutions. The longer you spoke, the better Eddie felt. You made it all sound so easy — like this was nothing, like it was the smallest of blips in plans that had been years in the making. You weren’t upset, you weren’t disappointed. He deserved your negativity, and instead only received your optimism.

You were with him for the long haul, he realized. Truly. It wasn’t just some one off promise or chain of the Universe holding you to him. He wasn’t dragging you down.

When you finally trailed off, his lids finally heavier than his heart, he sighed, “I love you. You know that?” 

“I love you,” you smiled, “That’s kind of part of the soulmate package, isn’t it?”

“Fuck the soulmate part,” he lifted out of your hold despite everything in him screaming to stay put, to let you to continue to coddle him, “I’ve seen plenty of people be shitty to their soulmates. I watched my dad-“ he cut himself off, throat tightening with memories of his parents. You don’t make him finish that sentence, only nodding in understanding, “The Universe doesn’t force you to be a good person. You choose to be that. Every single day, you choose to stand by my side. You always have. You could have made me feel shitty about this, could have let me see how bummed you really are about sticking out another year here, but…” 

But you didn’t. 

Your eyes softened, a stormy shade of his favorite color, “Do you remember the way you punched Carver that day, before you even knew me?” 

That very first day. The day two souls destined to intertwine had come in contact. The day the Universe had sighed in relief as your palm met his.

He nodded.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered, “You didn’t even know me. And yeah, whatever, maybe the Universe nudged you to do it, whatever. But there’s tons of people who know their soulmates for years and never realize it. Tons of people go to school and never interact with their soulmates. But that very first day… the first day you were at that school, the first day you saw me — we met. You defended me. And that counts for something. And I like to think it speaks more about us than it does about the grand scheme of things,” you brought a hand up, wiped away whatever tears were left on his cheeks with enough tenderness he almost started to sob again, “You didn’t know I was your soulmate. I was just some random classmate, and you defended me without even thinking about it. And I will always do the same for you. Always.” 

You always had, you always will. The two of you had proven, time and time again, that you will always choose one another. It was never about that inevitable bond. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he confessed, quickly moving to keep your palm there, resting on his stubbled cheek, “You deserve a soulmate who isn’t a fuck up. Someone good, someone who can give you the world and someone who… who isn’t repeating another year of fucking high school.”

“You still don’t get it,” you grinned sadly. Your fingertips press into that soft spanse right before his ear, cradling him more urgently on their own accord, “I don’t want or need someone else. You do give me the world- you are my world, you idiot.” 

Idiot sounded perfectly aligned with lover as he leaned forward, burying his face in your neck. Home — he was home as you wrapped your arms back around him, pulled him a little closer in your embrace, clung to him as tightly as he clung to you. 

All the colors in the world, and the only ones the two of you cared about were the ones confined to that small space for the time being, shades of you and shades of him, all overlapping perfectly in sync. 

—

You stay true to your word. The first time Eddie repeats his senior year, and the second time. 

Endless nights are spent studying, you forcing him to focus when he couldn’t, trying to invent new ways to learn that work for him rather than against him. He’s brilliant; you never let your boy forget that. 

It’s nice for a while. Sickly sweet kisses and teasing exchanges. Enough lovesickness to make even those around you two nauseous. Nights spent out by Lover’s Lake, exchanges of promises of a future to come and discussions of whether your kids will have his eyes or your eyes. Kids. You two were discussing fucking kids. And it had scared Eddie half to death to even bring it up, but you hadn’t been phased. You’d answered terrifying question after question with ease, had even joked about what color flowers the two of you would have at your wedding and listened to Eddie describe the house he’d want to grow old in with you in excruciating detail. Sometimes the two of you even brought up what kind of dog you’d have, fantasized about the big yard which would not have a white picket fence (because, according to Eddie, that shit was too cheesy even for him in all his adoration for you). It made Eddie realize that after all these years, maybe you had become the brave one.

You’d both succumbed to the stereotypical soulmate trope. Become exactly what society had expected from the two of you since the beginning. And honestly, you couldn’t even be mad about it. You get it – you got the allure as you had laid with a head pressed to Eddie’s chest, observing all the stars again, a night sky the vision of black and white as your vision went blurry with fatigue. 

“You know, that house sounds awfully expensive,” you yawned, curling a bit tighter into his side. You’re in nothing but his t-shirt, his chest still bare from the night’s activities.

Another new development. Even after all your time together, you two continued to find novelty to explore. New ways to learn each other, new ways to love each other, new ways to further tie your two souls together. An unbreakable knot. If anyone, the Universe included, tried to loosen it, you would spill blood without second thought. 

“Oh, it absolutely will be,” he chuckled, vibrations echoing in your eardrum, “But that’s fine. We’re going to tap into that rockstar money, baby.” 

In between talks of the future, more honest versions had arisen. Eddie and his band. You and your aspirations. Things that neither of you laughed at quite as much as the talk of children or houses with wraparound porches because they were in reach. 

“Do you think you’ll have groupies?” your voice was a murmur, mouth half pressed into his skin as you lazily traced circles on his pec you aren’t using as your own personal pillow. 

It made him chuckle once more, “Groupies? Sure. Don’t think any of them will be very successful, though.”

“Bold of you to assume I meant just you,” you’re able to snark back even half asleep, “Gareth deserves to be fawned over, too. Jeff is definitely a ladies killer.” 

Your hand moved just fast enough out of the way for Eddie to lazily mimic stabbing himself in the exact muscle you were painting invisible imagery across, “You wound me, sweetheart.” 

From this angle, you could catch the exact shade of brown that his faded freckles shone. You could see the differences in tan skin, see where he’d left a pair of sunglasses on his chest during a lake day over the summer and the tanline had remained stubborn. That had been a good day – Eddie had thrown you off the dark, wrapping his arms around you and turning the world to a blur of passing greens and blues before you’d been dunked beneath the lake’s surface. The cold water had stunned you, but him joining you seconds later hadn’t. Always by your side, even when he was being a little shit.

You’ve gone quiet on him, mind overcome with fond memories as the silence came naturally only for a few seconds before Eddie felt the need to fill it again. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, the hand that had mock-stabbed himself now curling around your forearm. 

Your hand against his chest turned to a fist, pressing deeper into the skin, just to feel him closer, before you teased him, “How do you even know I’m thinking? What if my mind is just blank right now?”

“Psychic-soulmate-telepathy powers,” he answered without hesitation. When you only huffed, clearly unimpressed, he pressed a kiss to your temple before whispering in honesty, “You were smiling.” 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Usually, you loved memorizing all the colors of him. You loved taking in his doe brown eyes and the harsh blush of his swollen lips. You’d memorize the twinkling of pink staining his skin across his chest and up his neck. You’d pick at the vibrant cherry shade of his painted nails, a sharp contrast from the usual black or sharpie scribbles he’d wear on them instead. 

That silver glint of his rings. The forest green of his plaid boxers. All shades in the palette of Eddie Munson, your soulmate. 

You love him so much, your chest is ready to burst from it. And you told him as much, too.

“I’m just really glad I have you,” you said for only him and only the trees to hear, “I’m really happy you came after me that day.” 

There’s no rush to memorize all his colors and all his shades. You had all the time in the entire world, and then some. The only reason anyone had ever reported losing their colors was due to the death of their soulmate, and he wasn’t in any danger at the moment. He was there, sturdy beneath you, deep breaths syncing with your own. 

If you didn’t learn them in this life, you wouldn’t rest until you found him in the next to finish what you had started. 

“Yeah?” you could hear his grin as he held you a bit tighter. Another deep breath, another expansion of his ribs, and you feel all that time laid out at your feet. A lifetime of learning and memorizing Eddie Munson. A life well spent, “I’m glad, too.” 

“Did you have even a single moment where you…. I don’t know, hesitated coming after me?” your speech began to slur, and you knew you were one foot in unconsciousness at that point. 

“Never,” that same certainty he has always held since day one laced his tone, “Never. I just- I went for it. I made Jason Carver eat his words, and I ran after you. The only thing I’ll ever regret is not throwing a second punch at the asshole.”

Your smile widened, and you knew he felt it. Imagined the comfort he felt at the feeling. Imagined the peace that was washing over him just as it encased you, “But not about coming after me?” 

“I don’t regret coming after you,” he told you, not growing the slightest bit annoyed at your need for constant reassurance. His fingers and palm slowly spread across your lower back, the warmth of their weight carrying you into sleep, “I’ll always come back to you, baby.” 

—

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

Spring break was supposed to be nice. Time spent with friends, lazy mornings that you and Eddie slept through, night drives spent screaming out in relief to empty highways because he made it – you both made it. The college transfer was already put into motion, making it so you’d start the fall semester at a University in upstate Indiana. Eddie had taken a few roadtrips with you at his side, already having gotten on the good side of a boss at one of the car shops within range of where you’d be attending. You two had littered his floor with ads for apartments, the ones in your price range circled in brilliant and glaring red. Everything had been perfectly in line. Everything was set in place. Spring break was supposed to be a break to just be kids one last time – it was supposed to be nice. 

But then Chrissy Cunningham happened. And Jason Carver, and an entire town of people who had always hated your soulmate. Suddenly, your own plan for the future had been scrapped, and in its spot a line of new dominos had been placed. One falling down after the other, too quick for you to keep up with.

A group of strangers had banged down on your front door. Had demanded to know where Eddie was, claimed they were friends trying to help him. You hadn’t even seen the news yet. They’d tried to fill you in, but only confused you more in the process, because the words Eddie and murderer should have never been used together in a sentence in the way they claimed the entire town was currently spewing. 

You were his soulmate. They were sure you’d know where he was, but you didn’t. 

That didn’t matter, though. The young boy, Dustin, had been determined. You’d heard all about him from Eddie – about the brilliant mind hidden beneath baseball caps and unruly curls, about the smart mouth you witnessed mouthing off to Steve Harrington first hand as you’d been searching for your boy. 

It reminded you of Eddie. It made you ache. It made you only more voracious in your search. 

And you’d found him – terrified, alone, trembling and crying. A version of him you’d never been privy to had pinned Steve fucking Harrington to the wall of Reefer Rick’s boathouse with a broken bottle to his throat. Wild, scared eyes and hands that shook harder than the day his father had called him and he’d put a goddamn hole through his kitchen wall. More desperation on his face than the day he’d informed you he’d be repeating his senior year for the first time. Shoulders more tense than the night you’d nearly walked away from him over some silly kiss with a cheerleader. 

When he saw you, he’d shattered completely.

The sight of you had him collapsing into your arms, unable to explain himself in full sentences as he gasped and panicked and clung to you. And you had held him, had forced the others to give him time. You were like a feral animal, standing between him and them, friends or not. Your claws and teeth alike had been out, ready to mar anyone who would dare to lay a hand on your soulmate. 

He’d calmed down. He’d explained. And then they had explained and reassured Eddie that he wasn’t crazy. His eyes had found yours over and over, and not a single time did they hold a single doubt for him in them. You believed him; you would always believe him. The cries of the town had been nothing more than static noise. You knew the man before you, you loved the man before you. Your soul knew his intricately, intimately. It would always know him, no matter the circumstance and no matter the troubles to come. In this life and the next.

The colors were never the gift. The gift the Universe had offered you had always been him. 

You stayed with him those short few days. Ran from Carver and his posse, swam in the lake and had kept a level head as you formulated a plan. Find a walkie-talkie. Call for Dustin, call for help. 

When the rest of them had jumped into the lake after Steve, you’d put a selfish hand on his bicep. For a moment, the only thing you were thinking of was him. You couldn’t lose him. 

When he jumped in after Robin and Nancy anyways, you’d followed, no hesitation. 

A dreary, nightmarish world. You’d followed him into Hell – quite literally, it seemed. Except they didn’t call it Hell, they called it the Upside Down. A place made up of all the things children fear, of awful creatures that only served to attack, to kill, and terrible storms of flashing red lightning. A blue tint to the town you’d come to know. Shades of flesh and shades of grey – shades of death – flooded the place. And only you, Eddie, and Nancy could see them. 

Nancy’s soulmate was somewhere far away. Somewhere safe. But she understood that protective stance and the way you’d stuck staunchly at Eddie’s side. She got it. 

A stolen RV, shields made of trash can lids and nails rather than make believe, goddamn spears made at the hand of people all far too young to be handling these things. They were handling the end of the world, and you suddenly hadn’t felt as brave as Eddie always claimed you were. The plan was formulated, and the entire time, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach. You watched Eddie play fight with Dustin, real weapons discarded to the ground, and you listened to Robin whisper the same sentiment to Steve. 

“I just have this terrible, gnawing feeling that… it might not work out for us this time.”

You agreed with Robin. You hated that you agreed with Robin.

And so you stood like a watch dog at Eddie’s side, nearly lashed out when it was suggested you might be more helpful joining everyone else going after this Vecna rather than staying with Eddie. 

It was his turn to put a hesitant hand on your bicep. Brown, russet, umber eyes that flashed with the unspoken question of are you sure you want to do this? 

But he was sure. And just as quickly as you’d followed him into that lake, just as quickly as you had dismissed those awful claims against him, you’d nodded. Because if he was sure, if he was going through it, you would follow him. 

You should have insisted on staying with him and Dustin. 

Because your group of rag tags re-entered that Hellish landscape, and you flinched with each flash of red, not even soothed by Eddie’s hand in yours. And the people around you were now friends; you’d realized in a few short days that you would do almost anything to protect all of them as well, but you knew there was nothing that you wouldn’t do to keep Eddie alive. 

“Hey,” he insists once the two of you stand outside this alternate version of his trailer, somewhere that you should know all too well but that has morphed into something unfamiliar in this world. 

His hand holding yours spins you to face him, a few steps off to the side from the rest of everyone. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, trying to only focus on him. Not the bleak colors of the landscape around you two, but the vibrancy of his shades. You hate the weakness written all across your features, unable to offer him any reassurance in return for all that he had given you over the years. You were terrified. As Robin had said, a terrible gut feeling was gnawing at you from the inside out. You couldn’t help the tears gathering, couldn’t unravel the restriction of your throat. 

“It’s going to be okay, alright?” he does the talking, nodding and lowering his chin to stare right into your eyes. His favorite color now wet with emotion, shining even in the dullest of environments, “Can’t be worse than punching Jason Carver, right?” 

It could be. It could be much, much worse. Everything you two had endured together was children’s play compared to this. But you don’t say that; you nod in dishonesty, biting your lip to stop from letting a whimper escape. 

“I’ll always come back to you, I promise,” he swears so vehemently, voice spitting with determination. Those brows half hidden by the bandana atop his head furrow, his forehead nearly brushing yours.

That, you at the very least, believe. Just as you would find him every time, in this life and the next, he would find you. 

“You better,” you choke out, hands reaching up just to latch onto him one more time. To feel him, sturdy beneath your palms. Alive. Your gift from the Universe, the boy who let you see colors. You almost regret spending so long fascinated with the shades you’d discovered when you should have allotted more time to imprint the features of his face to memory. You should have cared more about that freckle beneath his right eye, the slight crook to his nose, the way each of his calluses feel against your bare shoulders. Shades of blue, red, green, violet, yellow – none of them matter as much as the boy before you. They only matter because they paint the picture of him for you fully. They only matter because he matters, “I still need your rockstar money to pay for that wraparound porch.” 

He laughs at that. And God, he’s gorgeous – his head thrown back, eyes crinkling with genuine joy for the first time in days. No one else catches the tear that slips from one of those pinched eyes, the hidden sadness for only you to catch onto. 

That gnawing feeling – the one you and Robin felt. He felt it, too. 

“Of course,” he finally sighs, opening his eyes back to yours and now holding so many words that neither of you have the time to exchange. It kills you – you don’t have time. You thought you’d always have more time. “Think of this as a test run for that rockstar money. See how a crowd of bats feel about my rockstar skills.” 

“Careful,” your voice cracks, a few tears slipping that he’s quick to swipe away, “I hear they’re a tough crowd.” 

He smiles at your joke, but doesn’t waste his breath on laughing. His lips find yours instead, pouring out every single thought and emotion possible. You feel a tug on that knot you’d tied between you two, everything in your being protesting from pulling back from the kiss. You try to move your lips in a response, to tell him it’ll be fine, to tell him you’ll both return to each other. To tell him you’ll have more time. 

When he pulls back, realizing you can’t, his hand falls from you only to reach into the pocket of his jeans. You don’t understand until suddenly, he’s thrusting a laminated square into your hand. 

You know what it is before you even turn it over. Your entire body strangles down the broken sob as you look down at a polaroid of a younger Eddie. Somewhere safe and somewhere that time is still yours. 

“Keep that safe for me, yeah?” his voice wavers as he produces his own polaroid – the picture of you, “I mean, I’ll have yours, obviously. But… but just… it’s gonna be worth a lot of money once I’m the next big thing in the Upside Down.” 

He’s trying so hard to make you laugh just one more time. It only surges more tears to burn your vision. 

“All I’ll have to show Vecna is this,” you start to joke back, letting more tears stain your cheeks, “And- and-” 

You can’t finish the joke. He gets it, putting a hand over yours, forcing you both to put away those polaroids. 

“I know,” he assures you, “I know. Show him my ugly mug, and he’ll go down without a fight. That’s exactly why I’m giving it to you, baby.” 

Another tear, only for you, slips. You trace it all the way down his cheek, memorize the way his skin looks in the horrid blue tint and try to remember the shade it glows during golden hour instead. 

“I love you,” you say. But once isn’t enough, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he takes your hands in his palms, finally presses his forehead to yours, shares his breath for a moment as he focuses on your sad eyes, “So fucking much. You always were prettier than all the colors combined. Better stay that way till I come back to you.” 

He releases you. Wipes away his tears, has to give you an encouraging shove on your shoulders to force you to join Nancy and Robin’s sides. 

Steve catches your eye, a look on his face telling you he’d been watching the entire interaction. Something yearning crosses his features, and then something clicks. As if this is the first time he’d ever witnessed soulmates. As if he’s the one seeing colors for the first time. 

Maybe that’s why he gives his little speech. Maybe that’s why he tries to plead your case and make sure that Eddie and Dustin don’t do anything stupid. 

After Eddie has made his final request to Steve, to make him pay, he looks at you one last time. A ghost of a grin, wearing his bravest mask to date as he mouths I love you. 

You echo the silent sentiment. A silent prayer. For the Universe to bring him back to you. To bring you back to him. 

—*ash, stop reading here*—

The only way to lose your colors is if your soulmate has died. It’s one of the first things you learn when school first broached the sensitive topic. Your soulmate dies, they take the colors with them. They never told you how the soulmate takes the colors with them – never discussed whether it would fast and sudden like the moment you first touched your soulmate, if the colors would drain from you in real time and leave a path of chromatic grey behind, or if you’d watch them flicker from sight, just as one might watch the life flicker from the eyes of the one they loved.

You’d always wondered how it happened.

You’d been morbidly curious that day in class despite finding it all a bit dramatic. Had looked around a black and white classroom and processed your classmates' different greyscale reactions. Some were forlorn, some were snickering beneath their breath. Some just looked plain bored. It made sense; you were all kids, none of you had ever seen the blue sky or the verdant grass. Only heard about it. Only listened to adults drone on and on about it wistfully. It was never something tangible, something to have and to hold and to lose. 

You wonder how younger you would have looked upon you now. As you faced down an alternate dimension’s fiercest villain, hand paused midair, prepared to launch a lit molotov cocktail with aim to kill, when you suddenly paused.

The shades of the fire burning brightly in front of you have dulled. Microscopically. The smallest of flickers in vibrancy. 

“What are you doing?” Steve screams when he notices your hesitation, “Throw it! Jesus Christ, throw it before-”

Robin cut him off, being the closest to you and reaching over to snatch the ticking time bomb of a bottle, tossing it for you. 

As it explodes against the mangled being before you, another flicker occurs. You swear you feel a stabbing pain in your side, as if that gnawing has taken to ripping you apart.

You swear the bright flashes of yellow amongst the flames have turned to white. The orange has gone so faded, the dullest bits have shadowed over in grey. 

Nancy takes another shot, but you can’t move. You watch it all in slow motion: she doesn’t miss, her shot ricochets dead center, Vecna stumbles before crashing through the wall behind him. 

The world flickers a final time, and all the air leaves your lungs. 

It’s black and white. 

The floorboards, all of your sudden friends beside you, the walls of the old house, the lightning flashing amongst storm clouds in the sky outside.

It’s black and white. Shades of grey monotone. 

As everyone rushes to look out the hole, your knees collide with splintered wood. 

The colors are gone. It’s black and white. 

“Where’d he-” Steve starts to question before he turns and sees you. You’re folding into yourself, no longer breathing as you look down at your palms. Grey. Not a single sliver of flesh tone to be seen. “Are you okay?” 

The colors are gone. 

A cold washes over you like never before, and even if you wanted to take another breath, you couldn’t. It’s not ash burning your eyes – it’s tears, hot and vicious as your face begins to crumple in panic. 

Eddie. 

You don’t even hear them cross the room back to you. Can’t hone in on what’s happened, if the evil has been defeated and if you’d all won. It doesn’t matter; your colors are gone. 

Your hands finally fumble without thought, patting down your person until you catch the corner of the polaroid. You yank it free, breaths finally strangling into your throat without purchase, your shoulders shaking.

It’ll be in color. It has to be in color. He has to be in color. 

That familiar and well loved photo stares back at you. Your boy, curly hair wild and unruly, grin soft and fond. A twinkle captured in his eye and all that adoration that had been rolling off of him in waves somehow frozen in time. 

Frozen in time, frozen in black and white. 

Steve shakes your shoulders, Robin begins to pace and match your panic. They don’t understand. 

Gritted sobs leave your mouth, tears blinding you as you look at the shadow of what must be Nancy.

She understands.

Even through the strangled breaths, earth-shattering sobs that make you nearly incoherent, she knows. 

“Eddie,” you manage to gasp, fist curling around the photograph. 

The only way to lose your colors is if your soulmate has died.

“Eddie,” you manage a mangled sob as Steve pulls back, horror-stricken as he looks down at the polaroid, slowly piecing together what was happening.

Fast and sudden like the moment you first touched your soulmate. Draining from you in real time and leaving a path of chromatic grey behind. Flickering from sight, just as one might watch the life flicker from the eyes of the one they loved.

“Eddie!” 

You’d always wondered how it happened.

You finally had your answer. You wish you didn’t. 

[ughgoaway]

my favourite fics and writers

hi, y'all!! so I've decided that this year, I want to be more appreciative of all the amazing content we have on this app, and thank the writers providing it. this was inspired by Lily (lastnightwaskindofablur) who shared how long it took her to write her series, and it made me realise how much time and love are poured into these fics.

so this list is basically everyone im following, and my favourite piece of writing from them! I don't think I've forgotten anyone, but if I have IM SO SORRY!! if I am following you- I'm obsessed with you.

anyway, so sorry for tagging 1000 people but I love and appreciate you all so much!!

(so much rambling below the cut)

@64yrsold; “aches” is amazing and “wintering” is heartbreaking in the best way. Also, all of their one-shots are just amazing, I could read them over and over again!!

@yourtouchismidas; “ruins” was one of the first fics that had me checking AO3 every day for updates. truly heartbreaking and all-encompassing. and all the blurbs from it are also amazing. The dad! Matty content mixed with the angst is just so well done.

@abiiors; is not only one of the nicest people on this app (and maybe the world) but also one of the most talented writers. so so many amazing fics that honestly, don't even get me started on bc I will talk for HOURS. but “haunt//bed” is one fic I can't stop coming back to. And “Three’s a Party” is… mind-numbingly good, it actually made me scream into a pillow when I read it for the first time. Vee also creates all the amazing 75 Tumblr activities so really she is to thank for SO MUCH content on here!! one of the kindest people I know, and I feel so lucky to call her my friend :)))

@shinycollarboneapologist; was the blog where I started rambling and sharing ideas, so she is to thank for all the friends I've made on here!!! The Taylor verse is PHENOMENAL and “illicit affairs” is a fav. but “clandestine” has invaded my brain so much I literally dream about it regularly... so I have to say that's my no.1

@imagine-that-100; I first discovered her series "Drunk” on ao3 and then promptly binged everything on her masterlist (multiple times...) “Chicken Shop Date” is just a masterpiece (she and her co-writer are AMAZING on this and I will ramble about her later), but my personal fav is “truth serum”. I have probably read that fic about 50 times over and I love it just as much every time!!!

@heyidkyay; I first read “Who Can Say No to Bridezilla?” and became obsessed on ao3. but then I found them on Tumblr and was completely sucked into "I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name" which is quite possibly the best George series on here. so much character building and back story, and overall just a phenomenal fic.

@justlikemebutsixfootthree; has some of the best smut on this app,” The Birthday Party” is probably my most re-read because it is just an absolute masterpiece. but “insane” and “direction” are also both amazing.

@imightgetbetter; was one of the first blogs I discovered on here, and I fell in love with the whole “Love It If We Made It” series. such an amazing development of a relationship and their writing is AMAZING. but my absolute favourites have to be “Bets are off” and “I love dilfs.”

@butyou-callmewhenyourebored; has such good Ross content all around, truly providing for the Ross girlies!!! but the Leeds au blurb 1 is my fav from them!

@drivelikeiido; has some beautiful fluff, and I just love the way they write Matty. but (not so) important decisions just make my heart warm like nothing else!!!

@toomuchracket; my beloved mads!! the fun wine aunt of 1975 Tumblr. I mean I could talk for 17 pages about my love for all of her au's... birthday party is the perfect supportive husband, d-word is the best slutty old man content on this app lol and flatmate is the friends-to-lovers content we all yearn for. asking me to choose my favourite Mads fic is like choosing a favourite child, but right now it has to be totally wrecked. I think that has altered my brain chemistry in an indescribable way… (edit; since writing this she has put out possibly my no.1 fic of all time, “and this is how it starts” so I just had to mention how much I fucking adore it)

@lottiecrabie; I mean... what else is there to even say about Lottie other than she is one of the best writers I have ever read. truly the mother of 1975 Tumblr. “rockstar girlfriend” and “pray for my soul” both have such special places in my heart, but anatomy au locked a new section in my brain fr. that little loser lives in my head rent free!!!

@tillthelandslide; is so so kind and has some amazing series I would recommend to EVERYONE. “insufferable asshole” is one of my absolute favourites, I love a grovelling man what can I say!!! but “Same for You” has me flipping sides every chapter, I still can't choose if I'm team Ross or team Matty.

@lastnightwaskindofablur; what more can I sat about the whole ATPOAIM universe other than it is quite literally phenomenal. the amount of time and effort poured into the Brittany Jackson universe is so clear by how amazing each fic and blurb is. my absolute favourite thought is "Christmas isn't cancelled (just you.)" from the 12 days of Christmas. it is easily one of my favourite fics I've read!!! She is also the whole inspiration behind this list and made me realise how important thanking your favourite writers really is.

@cowboylor; ohmyLORD the smut on this blog is just... wowowoowowowow. actually made me nervous to attempt smut because of how good theirs is. "Cabin Fever" is probably my favourite, I love a good threesome fic.

@alovesreading; the other half of the JAW DROPPING series that is “Chicken Shop Date”. the hours that have been put into that fic are so clear in how well thought out it is. every word feels purposefully placed, and every chapter fucking HITS. A also writes amazing fics for Alex Turner and is slowly making me an Alex girlie just by how good her writing is...

@bookish-strawberry; such such good fics in the "You and Me Till the End Universe". Ambrose has just created such loveable characters and you can't help but adore his writing. “alleyway” pt 1 and 2 are my favourites, I do love some fwb content.

@hypersonic04; her teacher Ross universe is just great, every blurb and fic just radiates the love between the characters that she has created!! but my absolute favourite fic of hers has to be "Tis the damn season", it somehow made me love one of my favourite songs even more.

@cryley; her “Petichor” series is just fluffy perfection, I have probably read it over 10 times and will 1000% be reading it at least 10 more...

@cows-wearing-my-sweater; has some amazing one-shots, and his work on “Eternal Summer” is absolutely beautiful. she manages to make you feel the warmth of summer through a screen, and it's fucking beautiful. 

@thefrontofmymind; has so many great matty fics/imagines, “Helping Hand” jumps out easily as my favourite though. Once again, friends with benefits is ALWAYS gonna slap. especially when they confess their feelings at the end!!!! ahhh so good. “Proof Positive” is such a good Ross fic, if you like pregnancy fics I would HIGHLY recommend it.

@uramilf; did the 12 days of Christmas last year, and every day was amazing!!! But £The Record Shop” is my favourite series from her, love and music combined are too perfect for me not to adore.

@3terna15unshin3; Marcey's fic "then because she goes" had me refreshing ao3 DAILY. este is such a well-rounded and beautiful character, her and Matty's love makes me so lovesick it's CRAZY. that whole series is my favourite, and my fav blurb from that universe is Toothbrush. Este and Matty are so beloved by me <333

@because-she-goes; has an amazing universe with Matty and an OC that I adore, Nora is such a lovely character and every fic about them makes me giddy. "black lace" and "Summer Girl" are my favourites of their fics though!

@theseventyfive; has such a way with words, every fic makes me giggle and kick my feet. but if you saw my tags on my reblog of "not so secret Santa" you know how deeply I adore that fic. the writing on it is beautiful and makes you feel warm somehow??? amazing.

@wrongendofurcigarette; George girlies it's your time to shine!!!! "sun-soaked" and "wet" swirl in my mind whenever I see a pic of George looking... particularly good. but recently she has created an actress reader au that I am BUZZING for. that little snippet was... wowowowowowowow

@automaticllamacycle; OLIVE!!!!! once again, such a nice and genuine human being and I am so so lucky to chat with her because she is the best hypeman EVER. and is amazing to bounce ideas off of. just such a kind person and I am blessed to scream to her over DM. her coffee shop AU might be my most-read fic ever. it was my daily routine at one point to wake up, go to AO3 and read that fic. when part 2 came out???? I DIEDDDDDDD. but also all of olives horny thoughts are... MUWAH chefs kiss.

@red---moon; "after party" is another fic I read regularly on ao3, sleepy matty after a party with flirting and then smut??? hellooooo yes please. also, “Souvenir” as a series is just amazing, so so so good.

@maxverstappensflatbrim; “show me yours” is such a beautiful universe, and has SO MANY CHAPTERS for you to become obsessed with. I just love every character in that universe, and Mac’s writing is amazing.

@justanamesstuff; “All I Need” is such an amazing series, and I would recommend it to anyone who loves Dad! Matty content!! But all her blubs are worth reading too!!

@procrastinatinglikeapro; is so so sweet and has some absolutely mind-blowing fics. I must have read her entire masterlist 10 times over at this point. Choosing a favourite is hard, but “Does it matter” as a series has me HOOKED. (but also I love “mango lipgloss” and “wear my name around your neck”… don't make me choose okay)

@wrestletotheground; has some absolute BANGERS that everyone MUST read. Once again, the ross-tent on this blog is amazing. “Crime and Punishment” is my fav Matty fic from them, and she absolutely killed it with “Settle Down” for Ross!!

@mybrokenveins3000; college ross SUPREMACY!!! She is right when she says she is proud of “everyday rockstar” because it's easily my fav!!

@steel-elle; beautiful writing with everything she does, but my favourite has to be “But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes” (is this also because I love the song New Year's Day?? perhaps…)

@kscheibles; “e la vita” is so stunning I don't even know how to verbalise it. That fic has a portion of my heart FOREVER. But college bf! Matty is truly the man we all deserve, and I am obsessed with him.

@think0fmehigh; molly!!! My love!!! What else is there to say about Molly other than she might be my fav filthy smut writer on this app, and thats a tough competition. Every time I get a snippet in DM’s from her, I feel like one of the luckiest human beings alive. Molly does not have a bad fic (despite her protests im sure) but my top two (because I CANT CHOOSE JUST ONE) have to be “Birthday Girl” and “You Get Me So High.” but honestly if you have the time, bless your life by reading every word she's ever written.

@controlmyfeet; DAD MATTY FIC. thats all I even need to say, it is SO SWEET and it makes me so happy!!!!

@bfiaflbox; sooooo much good content, but my favourites are “Wintering” and “Tonight I Wish I Was Your Girl” !!

@nowshesdoingitallthetime; kirke. This is me BEGGING for more bartender matty!!! “Cocktails, Cowboys and back alleys” is MWUAH MWUAH MWUAH. Bartender Matty is a need, I adored every second of that fic.

@wiintring; I NEED more from Christina!!! Her writing is all wonderful, and “Come here dressed in black now” does live in my mind!!! 

@grocerystorelist; “body of Christ” is made for the religious trauma girlies and the fleabag girls. PREIST MATTY DRIVES ME CRAZYYYYY. Leila is so talented, it's crazy.

@forcryingoutlloud; wowwowwowwow the smutty content on this blog… its sooooooo good. “Beg for it” and “greedy” did melt my brain in the absolute best way, like I was genuinely SWEATING at how hot it was. As is everything on her masterlist!!

@hrryshoney; gyno! Matty unlocked a whole new side to me that I had NO IDEA was there. Like… insane. And the newest photographer reader fic also drove me CRAZY because I do love a cocky fictional man and some semi-public sex…

@the1975attheirverybest; Halla’s blog is a great place for discussion, good writing and crazy intelligent analysis of the band. “Education” and “being funny in a foreign language” are just… art. Truly. The character of Amelia and the characterisation of Matty are some of my favourites on this app. Hot smut, good writing and a lovely human being- what else do you need hellooo?? (also the pegging blurb from ages ago… yeah I think about her A LOT.)

@sugar-coat-it; FILTY, AMAZING SMUT. literally, every piece on Belle’s masterlist is worth reading 100 times over. Her newest thigh-riding blurb has been rotting my brain, I can't stop going back to it and reading it. Also, the Kylo Ren fic… mask kink unlocked fr. and the matty helping you deepthroat fic is also incredible. (can I just name everything she's done orrr???)

@cinomn; Nina has some great content, and I would genuinely recommend anything!! My favourite has to be “Summer Nights”, but it's a TOUGH competition tbh!!

@noacfslut; THE WRITING SPEED ON THIS BLOG?? MIND BOGGILING. And not only is Elle speedy, but every fic all absolutely wonderful. “Jealousy jealousy” and “undo” are my favourites, but that might change when I get the chance to read her mechanic au, because from what I've heard, it's also extraordinary.

[bobfloydsbabe]

Here’s some roses but I wish to give to give you a bouquet!

🌹🌹🌹

Cass, my beloved! Hello! You’re an absolute darling, and because you wanted to give me a bouquet, I’ll give you a longer snippet. This is part of Mob Boss Bob AU. Enjoy!

Abby looks unsure of what happens next, and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t know what to do either. He doesn’t want the night to end, doesn’t want to leave her just yet even though he’ll see her in the office in the morning.

She looks up at him through dark lashes. “Um, I’ll see you tomorrow, Sir. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says, eyes boring into hers.

He lets go of her hand, and watches her walk up the steps to her front door. Leaning against the side of his car, arms crossed in front of him, he sees the hesitation in the way her shoulders tense and relax in rapid succession. She’s debating herself.

In the end, she turns around and looks down at him.

“Would you…” she trails off, looking down at the purse in her hands. “Do you want to come up for a nightcap?”

He keeps his expression neutral as he taps the door to the passenger side of the car. The window comes down, revealing Bob’s trusted driver. “Take a few laps around the block,” Bob tells Giles.

The man nods, knowing expression on his aging face. The window slides back up and Bob turns around, facing Abby with a smile. “I’d love a nightcap.”

He’s rewarded with a wide grin.

send a 🌹 and i’ll share a line from a WIP

[auroralwriting]

illicit affairs

chapter three

biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader (turf war au)

tony's mad, bucky's curious, you're questioning where you belong

warnings: violence, language, small age gap (6~ years), angst, arguing, drinking, overall crime and gang stuff, sort of enemies to lovers

series masterlist

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony spat as he angrily paced around the room. "Some moron paid off Quill and his gang to not fuck up The Avengers!"

"I knew we should've gone Hydra," Rhodey clicked his tongue as he looked up from scrolling on his phone.

Tony shook his head, "When I find the person who did this, I'll fuck them up myself."

Your brother's words made you increasingly nervous. It was you who paid off Quill. At least he didn't snitch that it was you. It still didn't help your nerves to see how upset Tony was.

"It was a bad idea anyways," Clint interrupted. He quickly retracted his words as Tony grabbed his collar, "Only because we should've done it ourselves!"

Bruce sighed, "We can't do anything too rash, otherwise The Asgardians won't help us."

"He's right," Vision confirmed, "They like peace until they're the ones to disrupt it. The minute we cross any lines, they're out of the picure. Bye-bye, Brooklyn."

"Kiddo, what're you thinking?" Tony called to you. You just noticed how you were picking at your skin.

With a shrug, you answered. "I'm just not a fan of all of this."

"Well they're all lying, pompous, pieces of shit." Tony scoffed. "They deserve all of this."

"But why?" You asked. The silence in the room was so much, you could've heard the dust flying around.

Tony pointed to the door, "Get out. Go home."

"But-"

"No! Go the fuck home," Tony yelled as you grabbed your bag and left the small HQ to head back to your apartment, wondering what you's said to make him that angry.

"What's on your mind, Buck?" Steve asked his friend as the two of them sat in the bar. It was always pretty empty during the day. It was the two of them, a couple in the cafe, and Coulson cleaning up.

Bucky shrugged, "Nothin',"

"I know that look, it's not nothing. Come on, I won't judge you." Steve pushed. "Is it about the Stark girl?"

"I just.. don't know how to place her," Bucky admitted. "Stark's such an ass, but she's just-"

"Sweet?" Steve offered.

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, real fuckin' sweet. I mean, she could've got her ass kicked for us last night. I just don't get why she's bein' so nice when Tony's over there brainwashing her."

"I highly doubt he's doing that," Steve mused. "She wasn't around during the fallout. There's a good chance she doesn't even know what all of this is about, or you." Bucky felt his heart drop just a little when Steve added that last part. Truly, he'd never meant for Howard and Maria to get killed. He didn't know it was them transporting millions of dollars in art, otherwise he would've kept his mouth shut. "She really does seem to have a good brain in that head of hers."

"What are you thinking?" Bucky asked, watching as Steve's face twisted into that look he got when he got some brilliant idea.

Steve shrugged, "Maybe we invite her for drinks as a thank you."

"You think Stark-"

"I don't give a damn what he thinks," Steve cut Bucky off abruptly. "She's not his property. Let's give her a choice."

Bucky gave a soft sigh knowing Steve wasn't going to back off his idea. "Ask the others, let's see what they think."

"Already on it, Buck."

How could Tony just kick you out like that?

What could you have said that was so bad that your own brother would kick you out?

The thoughts spiraled in your mind as you sprawled out on your couch, a long, deep sigh pouring from your lips. It was only six and it felt like the longest day in the world. Not to mention your sub-group chat without Tony was blowing up your phone. You had to mute it to shut them up. All they were rambling about was if The Guardians idea was really the right one.

Clint had texted you as well. He asked if you knew who called off Quill. It was clear by his tone he already knew it was you. Clint always knew the sneaky things you did without Tony knowing. He kept things quiet. You liked Clint the most.

A strong knock shook you from your thoughts. You weren't expecting anyone, unless maybe Clint came over to question you further since you didn't respond to his texts.

You walked up to the door and opened it, shock filling your body when you saw Steve standing there.

"Steve," You breathed, unsure of what else to say.

"Hey, Stark." Steve gave a soft smile. He looked behind you and into your apartment, reminding you to let him in. You opened the door further and scooted out of his way so he could walk in. "Small place," He commented as he looked around.

"Big enough for one person," You countered, a smile playing at your lips. Steve wasn't here for trouble. "I would ask how you know where I live, but.."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we've all got our connections." He took a seat at the small bar-stool you had at your counter. "Pretty early to be sitting around at home."

You looked at your clothes, glancing down to realize you were in full sweats. "Yeah, Tony and I got in a disagreement today. Kinda spoiled the mood."

"What about?" Steve asked, genuine curiosity on his face.

"It's always something, I don't even know what this one's about." You sighed as you leaned against your wall. "You here to just chat?"

Steve shook his head, "Go get dressed, you're coming out with us tonight."

"Am I?" You asked curiously. "What for?"

"A thank you," Steve explained, "For the other night with Quill and his buddies."

If it was anyone else, you'd think you were getting played. Steve was different, though. He was genuine, he didn't bullshit with his kindness. Maybe your actions had bought you a one-way ticket to Steve's friendship. If that was even what you wanted. Tony would kill you.

"I'll go get dressed." Fuck what Tony thinks.

Steve waited on the stool as you changed in your room. "Where are we going?" You called out to Steve.

"The Grove," Steve replied, his voice loud so you could hear. "It's where we always go." Second time at The Grove, how exciting. "What do you want to drink? I can let Coulson know ahead of time."

You thought for a moment, "I'll do a cosmopolitan!"

You quickly touched up your makeup and walked out of your room, back to Steve who was waiting patiently. "A cosmopolitan, good choice." Steve smiled. "You all ready?"

"Yeah, let me grab a jacket." You said, looking at the muted news on your tv. "Never mind, it's going to be eighty. I won't need that."

"Especially with alcohol in you," Steve joked, opening your door for you. "My bike's outside, you can just ride with me."

You'd actually only ridden on a bike a small amount. Clint had one, but everyone else in the Syndicates had nice cars. It felt thrilling to be on a bike again. It made you feel even better when Steve handed you a helmet to wear. Thrilling but safe!

The Avengers and yourself were definitely a little bit tipsy at this point.

You were sat right in between Wanda and Natasha, who's head was currently on your shoulder to keep her upright as she laughed so hard she was shaking.

"And then he screamed louder than anyone," Natasha paused to wheeze in a breath. "I've ever heard!"

The table erupted in laugher, all besides Sam, who's face was heated while he scoffed. "It isn't that funny."

"No, it really is." Wanda waved him off as she hiccuped in laughter.

The only person not laughing besides Sam was Bucky. He was just oddly smiling to himself, unable to look up from his lap. Clearly the story had made him amused, but he couldn't look up at you.

"I would give all the money in the world to hear that." You admitted as you sipped your drink.

Natasha sat up quickly, "Here, let me try and replicate it for you." She falsettoed her voice and gave the most feminine, soft screech you'd ever heard, causing everyone to laugh once more.

"It did not sound like that," Sam muttered. "I'm too sober for this shit." He waved down Coulson for another one of his drinks.

"Okay, Stark. Give us something, you basically are surrounded by half-men all day. You have to have some funny story." Wanda asked as she set her attention on you.

You felt uneasy with the spotlight now on you. "Uhm," You hesitated. Honestly, you couldn't remember a time that was really funny. You were never invited to those sorts of hangouts. "I don't know."

"What?" Natasha was still smiling, but it was slightly falling as she shook her head. "You have to have something."

"I actually want to circle back to when Sam tried to flirt with that stripper who immediately tried to make him her toddler's daddy." You hoped the reference would side-track the table, which it immediately did as Wanda and Natasha cackled.

The look on Steve's face was telling; he knew exactly what was going on inside your head, and that was scary. You were quick to notice that was the first time Bucky had laid eyes on you, too. You turned your head to Wanda as she told the story, Sam trying his best to shut her up as she spoke.

Steve's face turned to stone, but inside, he was going over a thousand different thoughts. The first step to his new plan was getting Bucky and yourself acquainted.

"Bucky, do you think you could take Stark home for me?"

[himeryu]

— Love Rivalry (kaveh x reader)

PAIRING kaveh x gn!reader (ft. alhaitham)

GENRE social media au, college au

SYNOPSIS You’ve been rejected by your academic rival, alhaitham, without even confessing or having feelings for him. You decided to go to a party to fix your damaged ego, so why are you suddenly making out with his roommate?

TAGS attempt in comedy, fluff, angst, drama, jealousy, misunderstandings, fast burn ish, implied sexual content (no smut)

WARNINGS might be ooc, written before kaveh’s official release, unrealistic depiction of college, cw images of cats, alcohol, kys/kms jokes

STATUS ongoing! (11/16/22)

main m.list

profiles: (reader’s) peak mental illness | (kaveh’s) most wanted

00. prologue (🌻)

ACT I — delusional

01. confession

02. brutal

03: rumors

04. beer

05. rejection

06. one word

07. stream

08. cheating lover

09. real talk

10. plan

ACT II — scandal

11. lost (🌻)

12. scandal (🌻)

13. operation kidnap and runaway

14. stage 1 (🌻)

15. uh oh

16. gamble (🌻)

17. you won

18. balcony (🌻)

19. number

20. RIB

— bonus. redacted

ACT III — presentation

21. D-day

22. malewife

23. nike

24. run away with me? (🌻)

25. kdrama

26. speed run

27. stood me up (🌻)

28. mistake (🌻)

29. "damsel in distress"

30. thank you

— bonus. roommate (🌻)

ACT IV — disaster

31. he's back

32. new member

33.  bromance (lets make out platonically)

34. make it up to him

35. snitch ass childe

36. i gotchu

37. green looks better on you (🌻)

38. is it alright if i continue this?

39. scara vs ayato

40. yellow suits you (🌻)

— bonus. my own way

ACT V — can i call you mine?

41. menaces

42. question (🌻) — 2 years ago

43. haunted (🌻) — 2 years ago

44. this is me trying (🌻) — 2 years ago

45. you're losing me (🌻) — 2 years ago

45-2. illicit affairs (🌻) — 2 years ago

46. stay gold (🌻)

47. your eyes tell

48. what are we?

49. favor

50. closure

51. can i call you mine? (🌻)

— bonus. right where you left me

end of story

note: im back with smau cause writing sucks

taglist closed!

@dee-zbignuts @lxry-chxn @ducq @nikkicola @artssleepy @arraxthatsonjah @kunihaver @i-x4o @soohasoya @yae-raidenmyloves @aixaingela @09yyeol @nebulaera @bokutetsumu @kairxse @victoria1676 @thenightsflower @ti-lsy @alizaneth @abvolat @carnnieval @ultimate-imagines @ventisoba @skimm0nzz @slvdsjjk @succutie @empathum @saoiirsee @disa-ster @httpmitsuya @kunikuzushiit @semi-orangeapple @goodthingimsam @strawberry1894 @meep13r @leeyanyanyaaan @heart-cream @crueldinasty @justonemoreroz @boordbokee @moraxsimp69 @kkiryu @r4yyyyy @tartagli-yuh @raideneiari @kaekazuha04 @dazaiscum @mayasshitposts @kunikuzi @ruisann (taglist full)

-- this is my first time doing a taglist so pls send an ask or comment if it isn't working thank you

[gurugirl]

Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs

Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.

NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!

Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)

Daddy kink

Enemies to lovers

Summer vibes & party fics

Personal faves from my own writings

Other blogs I love

Tumblr

@1d1195

One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.

@a-strange-familiar

Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

@adorebeaa

One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…

@awideworldoffanfics

Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.

@be-with-me-so-happily

Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)

Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...

One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

@bopbopstyles

Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)

@fkinavocado

Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)

Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)

One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs

@freedomfireflies

Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.

Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!

@goldenbuckyyy

Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)

@harryistheonlyoneforme

One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)

@harrywritingsbyme

Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT

@helladirections

Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words. 

One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together? 

@itslottiehere

One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.

@jawllines

Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)

Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)

Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)

Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry

Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)

@jarofstyles

King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry

Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry

Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.

@lemoncrushh

Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II

One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II

@lukesaprince

Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)

Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)

Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).

Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

@moonchildstyles

Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry

Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry

Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry

Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry

@0oolookitsme

One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy. 

One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n

@0nlythrowharrybeaux

Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.

Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.

@pleasingforharry

Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

@purplekiwis

Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.

In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…

One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)

@s-brant

Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.

One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.

@stylesloveclub

Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy. 

@swiftmendeshoran

Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader

@watchmegetobsessed

Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.

Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader

@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)

One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader

@zayndrivesmeinvain

Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry

i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!

Wattpad

1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)

Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.

_miiki

Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.

Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly

Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them

ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom

Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.

Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)

Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty

Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.

MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)

Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark

Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?

Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"

Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)

Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.

Petit_cerise

Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.

Sunflowersnstuff

Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.

ThousandYearsOfHope

Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?

Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.

Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)

Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."

[jeonride]

— BLINDING LIGHTS ☆

an ateez maknae line series ·˚

— ever had the feeling like you want to have a rockstar boyfriend? at least, once in your lifetime? because why not? rockstars are rich, have a lot of cars parked inside the garage, luxurious condominium, and so on. but well yeah, they are scandalous. so if you're searching for a scandalous romance story that also heart-breaking, you might take a look of this series !

— JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE ! or simply just leave comment/ask/send me dm ! the 1st story will be released soon ! (in order)

FEATURING : ateez maknae line x afab!reader

STATUS : on going !

GENRE : illicit affair, angst, crime, romance, slight fluff (pls do not expect a lovey dovey story), rockstar au, friends with benefits to lovers (mingi), enemies to lovers (wooyoung), exes to fuck buddies (san), strangers to fuck buddies (jongho).

WARNINGS : SMUT, EACH CHAPTER HAS ITS OWN WARNINGS SO PLEASE READ THOROUGHLY BEFORE YOU READ !

— ELEVATOR DEAL ☆

ft. bassist!san x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: you and san had broke up two years ago, yet you guys met again at the hotel you used to go with him whenever he had concerts back then. you were celebrating your friend's birthday party, half-drunk, and unfortunately bumped to your ex's chest in the elevator and san were surprised too seeing you had changed a lot. that was when the deceptive deal began between you and san- inside the elevator, where no one was watching what you've done with him.

"you know what? you're way more attractive when you're angry. i liked you right after our first fight, back then."

CLICK TO READ ! not yet !

— HEART LIKE YOURS ☆

ft. drummer!mingi x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: mingi had always been in love with you, even though he knew, both of you were just "friends with benefits". but he swore, his feelings toward you were so fucking real. he hated to see you around with your boyfriend, hated that you prefer be with your abusive boyfriend to be with him. and one day, he got chance to show how much he loved you, with his own way.

"heart like yours should've been love someone like me."

CLICK TO READ ! not yet !

— LOVE WAS NOT LOST ☆

ft. guitarist!wooyoung x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: jung wooyoung, was your campus crush who said that you weren't even pretty, you weren't even his type- when you confessed your feelings toward him on valentine's day. well, the wounds already healed though, it happened three years ago and you haven't seen him again after graduated. but still, you can feel the little sting everytime you remember his words. so you really had no idea when he came to your apartment, all sweaty because he just performed and ran to you.

"why didn't you tell me that you're back to this town?"

well, why he wanted to know?

CLICK TO READ ! not yet !

— OUT OF LUCK ☆

ft. guitarist vocalist!jongho x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: you weren't think more further when you applied to be a maid at jongho's mansion. all you knew that this man was rich rich, and you need a lot of money. so when it was time for you to work, you came with the sweetest smile on your face, bowed politely and said that you will do anything that he needed.

"anything? even when i ask you to be on my bed?"

CLICK TO READ ! not yet!

© jeonride 2023. please do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost any of my writing anywhere! pretty divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more <3

you can find more of my fics here!