#it’s like if you’d spend a whole day with him. day and evening vibes..

[hyunpic]

february 2023 with hyunjin

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (10)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as dictated by the results of poll #6, this chapter will include stunt training, clubbing, and an accident. Plus, you've got tub anon to thank for... well... the tub scene :) Oh, and this is kind of 18+. Just a tad.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Matt and the reader eagerly explore the uncharted waters of their budding relationship. Ewan is booked and busy with the preparation for his new franchise. Will Ewan and his darling even find time for each other, or should they just take this opportunity to let go?

The internet, ever so informative, lets you know that Ewan and Jenna’s arrangement is in its initial stages before he even calls to tell you. 

Their first interview with Josh Horowitz is immediately followed by another feature on the movie set, with the two talking about the pre-production, what they liked about the script, and their chemistry, which according to them, came naturally and did not require much work at all. It was practically the thing they had to work on the least. How lucky. 

A lighthearted reprieve came in the form of a meme that started circulating not long after their interview with Josh. In it, Ewan is caught looking like he's either malfunctioning or deep in a philosophical crisis. The internet ran with it, with captions like, ‘When you realise you left the oven on at home’, to comparing him to an NPC glitching out.

When you asked him about it, he quickly stammered that he simply spaced out. Sure. It was hilarious, nonetheless.

Your publicist Mallory had commented that soon Ewan and Jenna would be obliged to go on pap walks, something that would appear casual and separate from the confines of the project that they’re working on. Something that signals that their relationship is making it into the real world.

“That whole casual ‘just friends hanging out’ vibe they’re gonna push? It’s all part of the gig,” Mallory shared. “Next thing you know, they’ll be taking long walks on the beach or grabbing coffee in some trendy LA spot.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. Even just a little. Sure, you know what the business is like. You’ve been on the same end of that deal just recently, with your own film’s PR efforts. But this arrangement that Ewan has doesn’t seem like the usual short-term fling to drum up buzz. It feels… heavy, like something that might actually stick.

“I’d be lying if I say I don’t find it all annoying, darling, but I try to look at it now as part of the job, you know?” he had said, when he phoned you one evening – his afternoon – to let you know that his stay in LA would be much longer than expected. 

You responded with, “Oh, yeah, I completely understand.” What else can you do? You aren’t together – you don’t have a claim to him, and vice versa. You thought that would make things better – easier – but you’re still waiting for that sense of comfort to kick in.

This is for the best, you would remind yourself every time a new headline surfaces. 

It’s only been a month since you last properly saw Ewan, since that night on the rooftop. In the early days, he messaged every day, called whenever he had a spare moment. But slowly, the calls have become shorter, more sporadic – chalked up to his increasingly busy schedule. Your tones have become more dispassionate – he blames it on his exhaustion, profusely swearing that he misses you so fucking much, but something feels different. 

Your job keeps you busy, with your commitments related to the new season of House of the Dragon, event appearances, and gearing up for the release of your film with Jacob. You are even invited to the upcoming Vanity Fair Young Hollywood Ball, an exclusive party to be held in New York.

And Matt is a more than welcome distraction. 

Matt, who has begun spending more time in your apartment after Ewan’s temporary move to LA. Matt, who brings you flowers that are apparently ‘beautiful, but pales in comparison to you’. Matt, who is unfailingly a gentleman, respecting your boundaries and not making a move since that time on your couch after your first date, when you told him to wait. 

He sits with you by your kitchen counter, in a disarmingly tight white shirt that leaves little to the imagination, one sturdy hand nursing a cup of coffee and the other on the small of your back to support you as you sit on the high stool, and you suddenly don’t want him to wait anymore. 

“Have you decided on what you’ll be wearing to the screening tonight, love?” he asks. 

“Why? Does it have to be pre-approved?” you playfully quip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah,” he nods, smiling, playing along, “of course, of course. You think I’m an easy man to date? You’ve got to keep up with my standards, as beautiful as you already are.”

You laugh, playfully mussing his hair, and he catches your wrist before it drops back on the counter. He says, “I ask because I wanted to match you, so to speak. We’d be like two peas in a pod.”

“Oh,” you snort softly, “or you know, like Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

“Funny girl,” he muses, before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, caffeinated and warm and Matty. You notice that his hand on your back is pressed firmer – he didn’t want you to slip when you leaned in. 

Charming bastard. He isn’t making things any easier… or maybe he is. 

Maybe he’s it. 

But the moment’s broken by a loud, offended-sounding meow. You look down to see Sansa, staring at Matt like he’s personally responsible for all the world’s problems.

“Hey, babygirl,” Matt croons, extending a hand toward her. Sansa, the biggest diva of a kitten, just gives him a slow blink before trotting off, clearly unimpressed.

“Calling her babygirl isn’t going to make her warm up to you,” you tease.

“She already doesn’t seem to like me,” he replies, scoffing. “Which is a shock, pretty much, how can she not?”

“So humble, Matthew.” You smile at his effortless charm, his easy personality. That’s all you seem to be doing nowadays. Matt is like your personal ray of sunshine. 

“I’ll win her over,” he declares confidently, sitting upright. “Anything for my lady.”

You roll your eyes. “How very Daemon of you.”

“Actually,” he laughs, “Daemon would probably feed her to Caraxes for being difficult.”

“Matthew!”

“I’m kidding!”

Sansa meows even louder, bounding away towards your bedroom. 

“Leave my Sansa alone,” you say, pointing at him accusingly.

He gives you a sly grin. “I will… if you come here and give me another kiss.”

Before you can respond, he slides your stool closer to his with a smooth movement, catching you off guard. You find yourself practically in his lap, his thighs pressing against yours as he waits, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, narrowing your eyes, unable to mask the smile that graces your lips. “One kiss, but only for Sansa.”

“Oh, shush and kiss me already, love.”

The film screening had been a private event, by invitation only from those who worked on the film. Edward Bluemel, Matt’s good friend, is a fellow actor marking his directorial debut with this film. For a first go, it was impressive, gripping from start to finish. Almost as much as Matt’s hand resting just above your knee, his thumb absentmindedly tracing soft circles into your skin.

Your cheeks had flushed when a particularly steamy scene came on the screen, and it might have been the nervous gremlins in your mind, but you swore Matt’s hand inched higher up your leg.

Now, on your couch, his hand is even higher. He hovers over you, his breath heavy and uneven as his fingers tease at the warmth between your thighs, so close to where you’re already aching for him. 

Maybe it was all the dirty martinis you drank at the open bar after the screening, or maybe this was a long time coming. Either way, you want him, and from the way his lips move urgently against yours, he wants you too.

It dawns on you that the tension is no longer something you can talk yourself out of.

He pulls away, and you protest with a mewling whine, your body arching into him. He nearly growls in frustration, the unspeakable sound you just made having a direct line to his hardened cock. With a gentle tug at the nape of his neck, you pull him back down to your lips, but he resists. 

“We have to slow down,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Because we’re about to cross a line that I won’t be able to hold back from, love.”

“Matt – ”

“I understand – ” He licks his lips, letting out a slow and controlled breath. “ – that you want to wait – ”

Your confession comes out slow and measured, letting him know that this is what you really want. “Maybe I don’t want… to wait anymore.”

“Say that again,” he says slowly, his eyes darkening in lust. 

“Maybe I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Maybe?” he whispers, his voice rough, practically pleading.

“Oh, just fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to snap.

He undresses you in record time, ripping off every item of clothing from your body with an eagerness that betrays just how hungry he is for you.

Neither of you even bother to travel to your bedroom. At some point, your entwined naked bodies slip off the couch and onto your plush carpet. 

And you have a heated… What was it called again? 

Oh right – a damn good roll in the hay. 

The water is still warm in your deep clawfoot tub, steam rising gently from the surface. You lean back, head resting against the porcelain, that blissful post-sex daze settling over you. 

Matt slides into the water opposite you, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes haven’t left you since he stepped in, and you can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin. It isn’t just the remnants of your earlier intimacy – though that heat still hummed in the air between you – it’s something more. Something you can’t name and maybe you’re afraid to, but it tugs at you all the same.

A small smile plays on his lips, the kind that made your chest tighten – half teasing, half dangerous.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, voice low and smooth.

You exhale a soft laugh, running your fingers lazily through the water, trailing small ripples across the surface. “I’m not exactly complaining, am I?”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to have second thoughts.” His tone is light, but the undercurrent of meaning isn’t lost on you.

You close your eyes, letting the warm water soothe your tired muscles, but even with the comfort of the bath, you can’t quite escape the one person lingering in the back of your mind. 

Matt isn’t Ewan, but he’s here, his presence steady, his charm disarming. He makes you laugh, makes you feel wanted in ways that are simple and uncomplicated, and maybe that’s what you need right now. Maybe it was okay to let yourself enjoy this, to live in this moment without overthinking what it meant.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Matt asks, leaning forward.

You open your eyes, catching the glint of amusement in his. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory,” he teases, reaching for your hand.

“Hmm, maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “You’re too charming for your own good, you know that?”

He chuckles deeply. “I’ve been told. But I like to think it’s part of my appeal.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Cocky bastard.”

He grins, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Takes one to know one.” His hand travels to your leg underneath the water, massaging gently.

“I’m serious, though,” he says softly, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. “I don’t want you overthinking this. We’re good, yeah?”

You nod, but there is a flicker of something else in your chest. Guilt, maybe? But Matt is right here, and he isn’t asking for anything more than what you could give, and for now, that is more than enough.

“We’re good,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles against your mouth, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. “Good,” he whispers back, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, the sound muffled as he kisses you again and positions you on top of him. You shuffle forward and discover a very obvious indication that he’s ready for round two of rolling in the hay. Or in the tub. Whatever works. 

He looks absolutely enraptured when you ride him, your motions causing tremors in the water. 

And in the sheer pleasure he gives you, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the smell of lavender, you allow yourself to let go.

The event has the industry buzzing - an exclusive event by Vanity Fair celebrating the rising stars of Hollywood. A masquerade party, the notion of which excited you to no end. You’d only read about such in books, in its medieval iterations, all poofy skirts and velvet waistcoats, the whole concept full of prestige and mystery. 

You spent days prepping with your team, the anticipation building until it felt like a living thing inside you. Your dress, a beautiful piece from Atelier Versace, fits like a glove, one side made of draped black sequins shimmering like liquid night against your skin. The theme is Midnight Elysium, and you look every bit the part - dangerous and glamourous and untouchable. 

Your makeup team did an impeccable job. Your eyeshadow resembles a swirling galaxy, a blend of silver and noir. Your lipstick is a perfect nude shade that matches your skin tone and your features.  

But then there was the mask. The final, necessary touch. Delicate black lace that settles over your eyes, framed with gold filigree and flecks of silver – sharp and ethereal at once. It was a piece of art, something you personally commissioned from a local designer in your hometown.

In a room where everyone claims to know everyone, a mask can be more than just a costume piece. It can be a weapon – giving you the freedom to be both seen and unseen. 

Stepping into the nightclub is like slipping in between worlds. Black velvet drapes line the walls, catching the glow of the minimal lighting – gold and silver chandeliers hanging like constellations. The bass from the music pulses underfoot, sending vibrations through your veins. Faces are obscured by extravagant masks, but you are able to recognise some of them if you look close enough. Milly is speaking to someone by the bar, and you remind yourself to pull her aside for a chat later. Timothee is introducing his date to a small flock of people. And Jacob is bounding right for you the moment you make eye contact. 

“There’s my leading lady,” he greets cheerfully, swooping down to kiss you on both cheeks. He’s wearing a metallic silver vest and trousers, along with a white mask that covers one side of his face like The Phantom.

“Wow,” you say, making a show of appraising him, looking at all 6 foot 5 inches of his figure up and down. “You look like a handsome disco ball.”

He laughs, the sound unmistakable even in the bustling nightclub. “And look at you! What are you, a cyberpunk witch? A sleek dominatrix?” 

“Careful now,” you warn him, “or I might just hex you into getting me a drink.”

“Coming right up,” he says, but his attention is pulled by someone calling his name. “Hold on a sec, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.” You let him lead you further into the room, and you’re swept into the rhythm of it all, moving through the crowd as if you belong – because you do. You’re slowly getting used to the weight of eyes on you, but tonight, it feels as if there’s a shadow you can’t quite shake. 

Your personal shadow in a room full of masked shadows. Your skin prickles, an awareness blooming under your ribs. In all the fuss leading up to this event, you hadn’t really bothered to check the full roster of attendees.

After several rounds of conversation, you excuse yourself for a moment and stand off to the side to take a breather. 

And then you see him.

Ewan stands across the room, a drink in hand, his black leather overcoat tailored to perfection. The mask he wears, a sharp cut of black and gold, adds a dangerous air to him. His effortlessly tousled hair sports a smattering of gold embellishments, like streaks of pale blonde hair. You take him in, every inch of him, that mischievous curve of his lips and the glint of his blue eyes underneath that mask. 

It hits you like a tidal wave, like a fucking hurricane, the longing you’ve tried to suppress for weeks. 

You shouldn’t want him this much, not when you both agreed to the break. To keep some distance. His fake romantic arrangement had made sure of that. And after everything, you knew that some separation was what you both needed. 

But seeing him now, looking at you like he’s starving… it’s enough to unravel every careful thread you’d stitched together since you last touched. You want to look away, pretend that this is just another night, that he’s just another fellow actor among the crowd. But the pull is too strong. It’s as if your legs move on their own volition, and you slowly move through the crowd, almost subconsciously drawn to him. 

He steps deeper into the shadows of the club as you approach, disappearing into one of the more secluded alcoves draped in heavy black velvet. No one will see you there. No one will know any better.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, and the music becomes a distant hum. It’s quieter, darker, and for all the trappings of the Hollywood elite, Ewan is far more intoxicating. 

“You’re here,” you whisper, half in question, half in disbelief.

But he’s already moving towards you, his eyes dark and hungry behind the mask. The air between you crackles with an undeniable need – weeks of distance, of longing, building up to this moment. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his body through your dress, and you so badly want to forget that this is a bad idea.

“I can’t stay away,” he says, his voice low and raw, like it’s costing him to hold back. “Not tonight.”

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, every rational thought slipping away as his fingers skim the bare skin of your waist through the slits in your dress. “We… we can’t,” you manage to say, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak. Oh, who are you trying to fool?

“How can I not? Fuck, how can you look like that and expect me to just walk away?”

You want to say something, something sensible, something to remind him of the stakes. But nothing comes to mind, not when his hand brushes up your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. His other hand slips to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you. He dips his head down, breathing against your shoulders and your neck, taking you in like a vice. 

“Ewan,” you finally croak. “We agreed not to – ”

“I don’t bloody care,” he cuts you off, his mouth inches from yours. “We agreed to give it some time, sure, but I never agreed to stop wanting you. Besides, I make good on what’s asked of me. I play the part. I deserve to be rewarded, don’t I? And you’re the only prize I desire.”

His words hit you hard, melting any resistance you’d been clinging to. 

“Oh? So… so I’m just a prize now?”

He only smiles. “The only one worth winning.”

Before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you pull him closer and crash your lips into his. 

The kiss is hard, fierce, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. He tastes bittersweet, all hard bourbon and cigarettes. You’re certain that the lipstick your makeup artist painstakingly applied would be wiped clean off. His hands grip you harder, fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough.

You break apart, gasping for breath. His lips are slick, shining in the occasional flicker of neon blue and red lights, his mask casting shadows across his sharp features.

A bright flash from the party's official photographer erupts in the corner, thankfully not pointed in your direction. Still, it momentarily shakes both of you back to reality. 

“Come with me.” His hand slips into yours, fingers curling possessively as he pulls you away from the cacophony of the club. You barely have time to react before you’re being led down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He pushes open a door, leading you into a smaller room bathed in that same cold, electric blue. Plush seating is arranged haphazardly in the corners, but the space is mostly empty. The low hum of the bass still thrums in the distance, but it’s reduced to a faint echo. The smell gives off cigarette smoke and spilled liquor.

“Smoking area,” he says with a half-smirk, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time himself. “I think.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “Who cares? It’s just us in here.”

You shoot him a look, glancing back at the door. “Someone could walk in.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, that familiar heat radiating off him like a furnace. “It’s a party, darling. They’re probably wasted out of their minds. And besides…” He taps the edge of his mask, his eyes glinting mischievously behind the black and gold. “The masks?”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “And if someone does walk in?” you ask, arching a brow. “What then?”

He steps closer, crowding into your space, the tension thick between you. “Then they get a show,” he says, his voice playful and teasing, but laced with something darker. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

“You can still walk away, darling,” he offers, trying to bait you when he knows full well that he already has you hooked. “Or, you can just shut up and kiss me.”

So much for giving it time. Ewan’s lips find yours once more, just as desperate, and you barely notice when he directs you to the seating, your back colliding with its velvet exterior. His low groan sends a wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and you think to yourself, this was a terrible idea. 

Your hands roam, finding the planes of his chest. He smoothly takes off his leather overcoat, revealing his bare torso underneath. The sight of it makes your head spin, and you croak unsteadily, “Ewan… not here, baby, we can’t – ”

“I know, darling,” he croons, his hand cradling your face. “I just wanna kiss you. I just want you… to touch me…” His other hand takes yours and drags it down the firm lines of his stomach, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Please, just – ”

The moment is abruptly shattered by the sound of giggling from the hallway, getting louder. Suddenly, the door opens and in stumbles a pair of girls, one of them you recognise to be Jenna. 

“Oh!” The other girl exclaims, clearly delighted by the situation she’s just walked into. She pulls off her mask, revealing herself as Emma Myers. “We found him! We finally found your date.”

Your heart plummets, right down on the liquor stained carpet.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak, getting to your feet and smoothing down your dress which had ridden scandalously higher up your thighs. “I’m – ”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Jenna says, shaking your hand, not the least bit bothered by the state she found you and Ewan in. “I love your work. I’m Jenna.”

“Oh… thank you – ”

Emma steps in, grinning. “Hi! I’m Emma. I’m such a fan.”

“Oh my god, I should be saying that to you guys!” you blurt, feeling a rush of relief at their easy demeanour. “I love Wednesday.”

They both gasp, and soon the three of you are exchanging compliments like old friends, chatting about each other's work with enthusiasm. Ewan, still seated, watches the scene unfold with barely concealed frustration. He eventually stands, shrugging his leather coat back on, and glances at Jenna.

“One of our producers is here,” Jenna explains cheerfully. “She’d love to chat with both of us.”

Right. Ewan’s her date. The word echoes in your mind, but the jealousy you expected to feel is oddly muted now. 

Ewan speaks, addressing only you, “Darling, will you – ”

“I’ve got her,” Emma declares, looping her arm around yours. “I’ve got so much I want to ask you!” Before you know it, she leads you out of the room like you’ve been best friends for years.

Ewan’s eyes stay on you, full of frustration and yearning, even as he and Jenna follow you out the door.

But you barely see him for the rest of the night.

The party is a blur of celebrities and conversations, but your mind keeps drifting back to that stolen moment in the blue-lit room. Eventually, your social battery runs out, and you slip out of the club early, unnoticed by most. 

Back at your hotel, you peel off your dress and drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the night replay in your head. The feeling of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours – it’s all too much.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Ewan One-Eye flashes across the screen.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, but you pick up. His voice is low, almost cautious. “You left early.”

“I was tired,” you reply, voice soft. “The party was great but it was... a lot.” Mainly because of him.

A beat of silence follows, and you wonder if he's wrestling with what to say next. “Are you okay?” You can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, eyes dark with worry. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, unable to hide the tremble in your voice. 

Another long pause, with only his slow breathing on the other end. 

“I hate this,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper, the raw emotion in his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I fucking hate that he gets to have you, and I don’t… and I can’t… ” He cuts himself off, and you hear the snap of his lighter followed by his sharp exhale.

You bite your lip, your throat tight with emotion. You’ve both been so careful, dancing around each other, pretending that you could stay apart.

“I’m flying back to London tomorrow night,” you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. It feels like a confession, like you’re admitting defeat.

“I need to see you before you go.”

“Ewan, we agreed – ”

“Fuck what we agreed!” His sudden outburst takes you by surprise, and you hear the raw need in his voice. “I don’t care about the arrangement, I don’t care about the distance. I just... I need you.”

You want to tell him that you need him too. You want to throw caution to the wind and agree to being together in secret despite the false romance he has to portray to the world. But you can’t. 

“I...” Your voice falters. “We’ll see each other soon.” It doesn’t feel like enough. With a soft sigh, you add on a lighter note, “Alyna still has to kick Aemond’s ass, you know.”

A beat passes, and then you hear his tired laugh on the other end. “Right,” he chuckles softly, the sound both comforting and heartbreaking. “Wouldn’t want to keep the fans waiting for that.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, trying for casual, trying not to let your voice crack, “someone’s got to put Aemond in his place.”

“Hmm, well if that place happens to be right in Alyna’s arms, I doubt you’ll hear any complaints about the script from me this time.”

You can’t help but smile at his teasing, but it only deepens the ache in your heart.

“Ewan…” you begin, but the words hang in the air, unspoken. 

“I know, darling,” he replies, his tone resigned yet gentle. “I miss you too.”

The training room is alive with the sounds of clashing swords and laughter, but you can’t help but feel a different kind of electricity buzzing in the air. Maybe it’s just the way Matt looks at you, as you rehearse a scene where Daemon helps Alyna brush up on her sword fighting. 

You lunge forward, initiating the first move with confidence, and he counters effortlessly, the blades clashing in a symphony of steel. The practice moves are intense, each swing bringing you closer. His eyes darken with focus as he follows your movements, and for a moment, it becomes easy to forget the rest of the stunt crew in the room. 

“Nice footwork,” Matt compliments, stepping in closer. His body brushes against yours, sending a rush of heat through you. Ever since your night together, he has only been more brazen with his affections. “But you’re leaving yourself open here.” He demonstrates, his sword brushing against your side as he adjusts your stance.

“There,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “feel that?” You swallow nervously, grateful that the stunt coordinator had moved on to Harry in the far side of the room.

“I think I might be too open,” you manage to say, trying to keep your tone light.

“Maybe,” Matt murmurs, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “But I can’t help but want to close the distance.”

As you move through the choreography, you both fall into a rhythm, and almost inevitably, the fight turns into something more playful. You circle each other, exchanging faux blows and laughter, the distracting banter causing the stunt director to approach and get you both back on track. 

Next up, you have to train for Alyna’s pivotal scene where she attempts to mount Caraxes as per Daemon’s command. 

As you practice the mounting technique on the mechanical dragon, you’re hyper-aware of every movement. The crew watches closely, ready to offer guidance. You grip the handles tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, and for a brief moment, you lose yourself in the character, feeling the thrill of the scene.

But then it happens. The Buck jolts unexpectedly, throwing you off balance. Time seems to slow as you feel yourself slipping. You try to brace for impact, but it’s too late. You land hard, the pain shooting through your ankle as it twists at an unnatural angle.

There is a stinging sensation too, by the side of your head, and all you think is – oh fuck. The world around you fades to a blur, just as chaos erupts.

When you finally regain consciousness, the sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. Your surroundings come into focus slowly, and your heart races when you realise you’re in a hospital room. The steady beep of a monitor is the only sound, punctuated by the faint rustle of fabric.

You feel his hand on yours before your eyes even land on his figure, slumped on a chair beside your bed. His head rests on his shoulder, his grip still lightly holding your hand. His brow is furrowed in worry, even in sleep. 

You feel lightheaded, and for a moment you worry that your concussion might be worse than it is, but no. It's just him. 

Then, the sound of your movement catches his attention. He stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and when he meets your gaze, relief instantly washes over his features. 

“Love… you’re awake.”

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Some notes in the margins...

Well, well, well. Yous were convinced that Matty would get the clubbing scene, helped by the red herring of his dancing video. Alas!

Is that Matty at the end there? Or a certain Mitchelly man? Hmm... one wonders. 💖

Complaints? Refund requests? Please direct your thoughts in the comments section below. I can 100% guarantee a satisfying solution. Or 70%.

Or, you know, bugger it. We're all in this together, better or worse ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[papaya-twinks]

ok so what abt a lando one where there’s an age gap and he’s always been obsessed with her and like stalkers her, does research on the guys she brings home and goes out with basically totally dark stalker vibes. But the thing is she knows she has a stalker but no idea who it is bc whenever he confronts her he is wearing his racing helmet, and they always do even more each time they meet, liek first time they met he just caressed her but then like the 3rd time fingers her and 4th fucks her. THEN SOMEWEAR IN IT PLSSS. Lando has a sex tape of them and jerks off to it and thinks ‘fuck I can’t do this anymore’ kidnaps her and now she’s kinda like his toy but sugar daddy vibes bc he treats her well. And this is all consensual bc the reader wants an adventure as her ex bf was so vanilla ( which lando knows allll abt and explains in detail to her what she used to do with him) THATS ALOT IM SRRY U DONT HAVE TO DO IT

Warnings: Five year age gap (sorry, large age gaps make me squeamish), stalker, dark fic, 18+ kidnapping, sex, smut, 18+, consensual, sex tape, fingering, abusive partner (not Lando), sugar daddy, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’m adding some biker!lando into this coz his F1 helmet is just cutsies but a black biker one? dark dark shit right there.

Lando had met you at an F1 race, where you’d been in the garage. Something about how darn innocent you looked with your pretty little dress, all young and…wow. And with the help of Oscar (who simply thought his teammate just had an interest in some girl), he found out about you.

Y/N Y/L/N. You were 19 years old, your favourite colour was pink, you were cute and innocent and sweet, and you loved bows and ribbons. How adorable. And so it began, Lando followed you on a burner account, and watched all your stories, pinpointing your exact location to be in Monaco.

Oh how perfect, you were in the same country as him and, conveniently, he had the whole summer break to play around with the information.

y/n

caption: spending this day alone but with a great cafe to make up for it :)

friend3: oooo, have fun 💗💗💗

-> y/n: will do, thank you x

friend2: looking chic, y/n!

friend1: enjoy yourself and try the chocolate cake 👀

user1: café can’t be as gorgeous as you are 😉

-> y/n: oh, thank you?

You had just brushed off whoever ‘user1’ was, not really paying much mind to unusual flirty message, and continued with your day at the cafe. However, you couldn’t shake the slightly unsettling feeling that you were being watched.

You’d seen this happen in movies, and you couldn’t deny that the slight tingle of adrenaline coursing through your body wasn’t enjoyable. And so you looked behind you, from your cake and your phone, your eyes locking with someone else’s.

Well, more you found yourself staring back at a helmet. A plain, slick black helmet, the person wearing it adorned in a leather black jacket and light blue jeans. You couldn’t see any features to help show you who it was, but it was kind of…interesting.

Did you confront the person? No, you’d seem desperate or stupid. So you went back to your food, and never once did it cross your mind that perhaps, user1 was your stalker. But you didn’t see the stalker anymore. And you were a little disappointed they’d moved on so quickly, but you too moved on, going on your dates, looking for love, as girls your age did.

“Jason? What the fuck?” Lando said, eyeing the new name at the bottom of your followers. He’d skimmed through them, making a note of each and every person on your Instagram list, but seeing a guy? He couldn’t deny the feeling of annoyance in his stomach.

And thankfully, he’d made note of the guy’s instagram enough to see where the date would take place. Foolish, foolish move. And once again, you were sitting at a chair opposite this man, Jason, when your eyes fell on the same, sleek black helmet once more. Holy shit. And quicker than it had come, it was gone. For fucks’ sake.

*1 month later*

You and Jason were dating now, and to say he was toxic was an understatement. “Jason, I’m just gonna go out with my friends,” you said, picking up your purse as he scowled from the sofa, still in his sleeping clothes. “Why? So you can see some guy under the guise of friends? Likely,” Jason scoffed.

He was frustrating. “I’m not seeing another guy, I’m going with my friends,” you said, repeating your words as he groaned. “For fucks’ sake, Y/N, no means no!” he yelled, his words making you flinch as you sighed and dropped your purse back down.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be a brat, fucking go!” Jason seethed, pushing you to the door. Well, at least you’d get to go. The meet up with your friends ended a few minutes later, and just as you were leaving..,the helmet. This time, you would confront him. Or her.

“Uh, hi,” you said, walking slowly towards the helmet-man. He was definitely muscular. You were standing in the middle of an alleyway, the darkness flooding round you as the helmet stared down at you from his spot. “Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He didn’t shake it.

You watched as he placed a hand in your shoulder, still not having said anything, and interlocked your other hand in his. He pushed a bit of paper into your hand, your eyes on the words. A phone number. Interesting. As soon as you looked back up, he was gone.

unknown user

y/n: hello

user: Hello.

y/n: who is this?

user: you don’t need to know.

user: come to the boulevard tomorrow at 9pm. leave jason behind. tell him your seeing a friend.

Holy shit x2. The air of mystique around whoever this was…was somewhat unsettling but at the same time, it was kinda a turn on. And wait, how did he know who Jason was? Oh, he’d done his research. Nice one.

And so you did what he said, managing to wriggle out of Jason’s possessive gaze, and you found yourself, waiting where this stalker had said. And there he was, in the same jacket and the same helmet, looking back at you. And perfectly on time, as well. Either he was desperate or…well, you didn’t know.

It was dark all round you, no one around and the streets unlit in this area. You watched as he reached out a gloved hand, taking your hand in his and pulling you between the trees, the mask of the night shielding you. He had strong hands.

You didn’t truly care what he’d do next, as he sat you down, the dry earth coating the back of your dress as he pushed it up, your thighs visibly shaking. A soft gasp left your lips as he trailed his hand over your core. You hadn’t worn panties. Good.

It was almost like he was complimenting you as he gave you a small smack on your thigh, before he removed his glove, dipping his finger between your folds as you moaned, eyes wide. “Shit…” you trailed off, your eyes wide as he added another, your knot building up. Fucking weeks of faked orgasms, and this one felt real.

He didn’t say anything, simply moving his hand faster, the tan skin of his fingers curling as he rubbed at your clit with his thumb. Who was this fucking angel? A loud moan left your lips as your orgasm flooded over you, his hand moving from between your legs, the remnants of your pleasure on his hand as he wiped it down his jacket, watching you for a second, before he left.

Part 1 of his plan: complete.

And the next day, you received yet another message from the same user, your eyes lighting up. It was an address.

user: [address], 10pm. no panties either.

And you arrived at the surprisingly grand hotel, showing the receptionist the room number and she gestured the way. You paused outside the door, thoughts of everything flashing through your head. Who was this man? Was he safe? Was he dangerous? Fuck it, you just needed another orgasm.

As you walked in, you failed to notice the little camera set up on the desk behind a bottle of lotion, your eyes on the man standing in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom. You didn’t say anything, neither did he, as he walked to you, lifting your dress once more and laying you down on the bed.

With one hand, he dipped his fingers into your core, the other hand undoing his belt as he dropped his trousers, taking your hand and wrapping it round the base of his (surprisingly large) cock. You heard the small sound of a groan, not enough to identify who it was, but you pumped his slowly, his own hand toying with your core.

Still, he’d didn’t remove his helmet. You gasped as he pressed his cock against you, one hand pressing down on your throat gently, the restriction of your airways adding to the pleasure, as his other hand pressed your stomach down to stop you from arching. You whined as he tugged your jaw forwards, forcing you to look at the small bump in your stomach.

Holy shit x3.

You gasped as he started moved, your lips parting as he moved his head down, lifting the visor and pressing immediately to your neck, so you couldn’t see anything but his lips as he licked at the supple, sweet skin of your collarbone. His hips picked up pace as you moaned, his fangs nipping at your skin as he peppered kisses to your neck.

You could feel the pleasure build up in both of you as he held you down, his hand moving from your neck to massage you clit in soft, slow circles, his other hand kneading the skin of your breasts. “Shit,” you muttered as he sped up, the knot in your stomach building faster and faster as you suppressed your moans, your eyes rolling.

He pulled out before he came, spilling the liquid onto your thighs as he bit down once onto your neck, sucking the hickey under your coat and out of sight, before fixing you up. And then he pushed you out the room. Oh god.

“What the fuck?!” Jason snapped, stepping into the shower with you. “Where did you get a hickey from?” he asked, your eyes wide. You’d totally forgotten about it. “You gave it to me last time we fucked,” you said coolly, trying to play it off. “Oh…right,” Jason muttered. Wow, he was stupid.

“Fuck,” Lando gasped, his eyes rolling as he tried to keep his attention on the video of the night before, his hand desperately trying to recreate the sensation of your tight cunt, how good it had felt having your warmth clenching round him. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando muttered staring down at the menial drops of cum coating his hand.

And there was only one way he could have you all of himself. Kidnapping. But, how? You were walking down the boulevard once more, trying not to stare at the spot where you’d been fingered by the mystery man, clutching your bag as you walked down to a bakery, where you wanted to pick up your cakes.

And then, a hand on your mouth, followed by a cloth, and out you went.

……….…………………………

Your lashes fluttered open as a piercing yellow light hung over you, your eyes returning to usual as you looked round the room. You had an itch under your nose, and you reached your hand up, only to find your wrists tied together and to a radiator. What the fuck?!

And then you saw it, the pieces falling into place. A laptop placed perfectly so you could see it, with the video of the mystery man fucking you playing on. The helmet placed onto the side cabinet. A phone with ‘user1’ and the list of all your images he’d saved. What was this?

“Hello sweetheart,” a voice said, the second word dripping with almost condescending sarcasm as you looked up, your eyes locking on a pair of greenish-blue ones. He was the stalker? He was hot, though. “What are you doing, who are you?” you writhed against the ties as he scoffed.

“Fight all you want, then,” he shrugged, “I know you want this,”. You shook your head at his words, making him roll his eyes, before he bent down, untying the tie on your wrists and kneeling to your height. “Don’t wanna be here, is that what you want me to believe?” he smirked. “Then go on,” he gestured to the bedroom door.

“Run, then,”.

But you didn’t. You didn’t run. Though you knew you should, that this wasn’t right, but you didn’t move. “Exactly,” he leaned down to whisper into your ear, running his tongue over the mark he’d left, a shiver rushing up your spine. “Get on the bed, then,” he said with a little sinister smile, but you obeyed.

“On your back, lift your dress,” the man said, directing you with a firm voice as you did what he said, your back against the mattress, your hands tugging the material of your dress upwards. “Good,” he eyed your body, “think a little introduction is in need,”.

“I’m Lando,” he said, his lips brushing your ear as he removed his jeans, “you’re Y/N. I know that,” he said, pumping himself a few times before aligning with your entrance as you gasped. “I know how Jason was a dick,” he continued, “I watched you fake those orgasms,” Lando mused, “and how that cunt of a ‘boyfriend’ never once gifted his perfect little girl anything,”.

You whimpered as he took your chin in his fingers, pressing his lips to your jaw, before sliding into you, his other hand taking a little box from behind you, sliding the ring onto your index finger as he rocked his hips. “Oh, god,” you gasped as he sped up, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I watched how that cunt couldn’t even make you cum, Y/N,” Lando smirked, “such a pretty girl and he couldn’t even make you cum,”. You whined at his words, your body bouncing a little as the lewd sounds of your skin hitting his as he slammed into you, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

“Cum for me,” he said, his teeth bared against your neck as you gasped, your whimpers filling his ears as he carried on. Oh what he fun he’d have with you.

A/N - I love this.

[hanjisungslag]

Headcanons for when aot men get jealous? Maybe seeing reader and someone else spending time together and getting agitated and then dragging them away - ‘Pay attention to me not them.’ sort of vibe.

💢 aot men & jealously

characters included: eren, armin, connie, jean, reiner, bertolt, erwin and levi.

notes: this ask had me floored.

☆ eren jaeger

he caught you and reiner talking to each other AGAIN.

this has happened one too many times and eren finally loses it.

he’d definitely say something like “what about spending time with your boyfriend instead of him, hm?”

very temperamental about the whole thing..

one second he’ll be furious, next he’ll be sad, next he’ll be happy you’re back to spending time with each other

but mostly angry over it.

he storms over and pushes reiner away from you as he comes between the both of you, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing with MY partner?” eren asked threateningly “woah eren we were just—” but before reiner could say anything, eren grabbed your arm and stormed off with you.

☆ armin arlert

you and jean are very close friends

too close, your boyfriend may say.

armin usually lets things slide at first, he doesn’t want to come off as overbearing or jealous

also you and jean are just friends at the end of the day, right?

but one day, you and jean are laughing away as usual and armin asks what’s so funny and you say..

“oh, it’s an inside joke. you wouldn’t get it.”

after you said this, you continued to laugh. but armin had reached his breaking point, he slammed his hands on the dinner table and rose from his seat turning to face you, “y/n. get up.” your smile drops as you also get up from your chair. you two walk out the dinner hall. armin quickly speaks up “pay attention to me, not him.”

☆ connie springer

you and berty boy were spending wayyy too much quality time together.

making you spend less time with your own boyfriend!

connie obviously took this to heart and had to do what a man’s gotta do

aka pull a prank on bert.

every single day for like 2 weeks, connie would do something just to cause him inconvenience.

just like hiding his things right before practice, stealing food off his plate, replacing his sugar with salt, messing up his laundry etc.

but now what was connie going to do with you? after he pulled one of his pranks on bert he saw you HELPING him so not only do you spend all your time with him but now you’re ruining connie’s revenge plan? nope, not happening. he slams bert’s door open not taking any notice that the both of you are trying to talk to him, he just grabs you and pulls you into the hall. “last time i checked, i was your boyfriend. so, stop acting like bert is.”

☆ jean kirstein

there was someone in the survey corps who clearly had a thing for you

but you didn’t seem to notice. supposedly.

anyways, you guys would spend quite a bit of time together especially during expeditions.

jean obviously took offence to this and what does he do?

showboats🗣️🗣️

while on an expedition, you and this guy were chatting away, killing titans, all the usual stuff. but little did you know, from the back, jean was watching all of this happening and he was getting pissed off. his anger built up so much that when it came to killing the titans be whipped out half of them on his own. everyone was super impressed and the girls started complimenting you for having such a strong, brave boyfriend.

he pulls you aside afterwards and says “that was because of you and him, you know? so, you better start paying more attention to me now.”

☆ reiner braun

there was this one guy from garrisons who adored you!

and you thought he was sweet and you’d always try and catch up with him when you could.

which reiner would say was too often.

reiner would definitely intimidate this guy with how huge he is.

it’d be intimidating even reiner wasnt massive because he was just a garrison.

he’d pump his chest out more and wrap his big arms around you in front of him to prove how much bigger and better he was.

and when it came to you, he was so mad. as you stepped away from the garrison guy, he took his arm off of you and grabbed you by the shoulders turning you to face him. “hey. you better stop talking to that fucking whimp. i’m your boyfriend.”

☆ bertolt hoover

you and connie were super close.

you both trained together, love pulling pranks and just bounce off each other so well.

some people sometimes even think you’re a couple..!

but you already have a boyfriend.

bert doesn’t like to speak up about how he feels for a while until something really tips him over the edge.

bert always used to ignore how close you and connie were, he was too shy to say anything in the first place but he also didn’t want to ruin your guys’ relationship by being jealous. that was until someone asked if you and connie were a couple. that was his final straw. he calmly walked over to you but grabbed you with a grip you wouldn’t expect from bertolt. you found yourself outside with him where he looks you dead in the eyes “unless you actually want connie to be your boyfriend, you better start paying more attention to me, y/n.”

☆ levi ackerman

you mostly worked in the offices after a bad injury.

and there was this one librarian who really took a liking to you.

but, you’re already coupled up with mr. ackerman.

levi sees you guys talking all the time. sees that you’re in the library quite a lot even when you don’t need to be.

because of this he delegated menial work to him and even you, when he’s feel mean.

but when he catches you STILL talking while doing the tasks he set for you, he loses it.

you got distracted from your task when your little librarian friend starts discussing this ancient book he discovered the other day and as you were chatting away, you heard the door creak.. you jump out of your skin, trying to return to your task but it was too late. levi had already seen you. he calmly marched towards you and pulls you away to the other end of the library “is that what i said your task was, y/n? come here, i got a better task for you like helping your boyfriend. not this cretin.”

( however at the end of the week when things were all cleared up and you ask him about it he just says “me? jealous? no, i wasn’t.” )

☆ erwin smith

you and mike were working a little too closely lately.

erwin saw the way mike looked at you longingly

at first he thought it was nothing, he wasn’t even jealous!

until mike starts getting more physical

a shoulder brush here, a slight hand touch there

after this, he fully loses it.

erwin side eyes you and mine when he sees his hand gently brush up against yours, it could be pure accident but erwin couldn’t care less. he had gone too far. he marched over tall and mighty and swiftly stole you from mike “i’m the only man who gets to do that to you, you hear me?”

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOTES — JESS MARIANO

based on a request

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: after months of mutual pining, jess arrives at luke’s having read your favourite novel. oh, and he has some notes.

warnings: swearing, jokey sexual reference, other than that just tooth rotting fluff vibes

author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i loved it sm i had to immediately start writing!!! i hope it does jess justice — i love writing him so much. i may go back and edit some bits im not 100% happy with — but i hope you enjoy!!!

pleaaaaase let me know what you think — i love love love reading you guys’ feedback <3

———

“I finished it.”

If you were anyone else, you’d have jumped out of your skin at the sudden, and rather loud, appearance of someone beside you.

But this was you, and it was Jess, so you were more than used to your ‘peaceful’ study sessions at Luke’s being interrupted by his ever-present smirk, his flirting and his endless supply of smartarse comments.

Not that you could complain.

You’d grown used to his omnipresence over a year ago. And it had been months now since you’d realised that you no longer just tolerated his company — you enjoyed it a ridiculous amount and instead longed for it when he wasn’t around.

You eyed him quizzically, noting how proud of himself he looked for reading your favourite book, but also noticing an unusual lack of self-assurance glimmering through his expression.

“I would ask if you mean this trig stuff for Mr Elton,” you gestured down to the homework you’d been painfully poring over for the past hour, “But I know you too well to expect you to actually do your homework, so what are you talking about?”

He didn’t mention that the real reason he never studied in your trig study sessions was because he was more often than not too busy staring at you and coming up with things to say to make you laugh.

Jess raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head and cleared his throat to do a godawful impression of you, “Oh Jess, I can’t believe you’ve never read it. My favourite novel in the whole world and you’ve never read it!”

You scoffed, “If that was supposed to be me, get out of here.”

“Please, like you really want to get rid of me,” he teased, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you, “Then you’d be miserable and heartbroken and, even worse, have to actually finish your trig homework. Besides, I enjoyed it.”

Your eyes brightened up at this, and you could tell he noticed, “Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. Your taste isn’t that bad… I mean, you hang out with me don’t you?”

“For some reason, yes,” you pretended to grumble, feigning ignorance of the butterflies in your stomach at his usual smug smile, “But you really liked it?”

He sat down in the seat opposite you now, pulling the book from his bag and slamming it down in front of you, “Well, I have notes of course.”

You rolled your eyes, at which he couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, it wasn’t terrible. I did say I enjoyed it… Some of the notes are nice.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”

“You wound me,” Jess feigned a pout, “Romance isn’t usually my genre and you know that.”

“Of course. Hemingway fanboy is too cool for my sappy romantic books, huh,” you joked, heart still racing wildly at the notion he’d even started reading it, let alone finished it.

“Pfft. Austen fangirl should be less rude and give more Hemingway a try, I say,” he quipped back, tongue in cheek.

“Hey, I like Hemingway,” you shook your head, “I just don’t go to bed and jerk off over how great I think he is like you so obviously do.”

He shook his head and pulled a face that faked shock, “And how much time in the day, on average, would you say you spend thinking about what I jerk off over, huh?”

“You are such an ass,” you tutted, swatting his arm, “Approximately none, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“Anyway, if you’re done being gross, let’s get back to the important thing here. You read my book,” You reached to pull the book towards you, only for him to snatch it back and rest his elbows on it.

You furrowed your brows at him, “What’ve you got to hide in there?”

His eyes narrowed, his lip between his teeth now as though he was thinking hard about something.

“C’mon, Mariano,” you leaned forward, “I assumed that since you brought the book with you, I’d get to see at least some of your notes.”

His fingers were picking at the edges of the book’s cloth sleeve, his toes drumming on the floor anxiously like they’d recently begun to do more often when he was around you.

He heaved out a deep sigh, “Look. I’m going to give you this, and then I’m gonna leave the diner, alright? And then, and only then, you can open this book up, and you can read what’s in there. And if you never see me again it’s ’cause I’ve died of embarrassment or something. Got it?”

You rolled your eyes, chin on your palm.

He slid the book in your direction now as you watched him swallow thickly and cocked your head to the side like a curious puppy, “Ever so cryptic, aren’t you?”

“You’ll figure it out, Miss Marple.”

With that, he rose to his feet and darted out of the diner before you could even say another word.

You briefly made eye contact with Luke behind the counter, who watched you carefully for a moment before looking down at the book now carefully clutched between your fingers.

You wasted no time then, pulling open the book and desperately skimming for whatever the hell he was talking about.

You weren’t sure what on earth you expected to find when you flicked through its pages, but it most certainly wasn’t a plethora of sticky tabs with scrawled notes on about how the protagonist reminded him of you.

You expected even less, then, to find a note in Jess’ handwriting at the very back of the book declaring that he realised halfway through — when the two love interests whose relationship bore a crazy resemblance to your own, realised that they were in fact in love — that he’d been stupid to deny that he even liked you, let alone that he’d quite obviously fallen stupidly in love with you.

Shock coursed through you, your heart racing at the uncharacteristically romantic and yet somehow still so incredibly Jess gesture.

You stood up, almost knocking over your chair as you placed the book under your arm and turned to leave, “I’ll be back—uh, soon.”

Luke nodded, “Go get him kiddo.”

You smiled, butterflies whirling in your stomach as you left the diner almost as quickly as Jess had just minutes ago.

You knew exactly where you’d find him — perched on the bridge swinging his feet and letting his mind convince him you wouldn’t in a million years feel the same.

When he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching, you saw him clench his eyes shut as if in hope that he was imagining you and that you’d soon disappear.

“You can’t confess your love for me and then run away, Jess,” you bit your lip as you teased him softly, “It’s not fair not to give me a chance to say it back properly. You do get bonus points for how much of a romance novel cliché that move is, though.”

He sighed, a deep heavy sigh of relief, and it was as though suddenly he reverted to his usual self, “Technically the book confessed my love for you, actually. And the window for reciprocating hasn’t quite closed yet. I’m all ears, pretty girl.”

You loved this.

You loved how easy things always were for you with Jess.

Everything that went unspoken still never went unsaid — sure, you’d been flirtatious friends for a while now, uncertain of quite how seriously he reciprocated your feelings, but deep down you always sort of knew.

You loved that ever since he’d come to Stars Hollow, he’d shown that he cared in his own silly little ways.

And he loved you.

And you loved him.

You sat down at his side, still clutching the book tightly as he finally looked across at you with a small smile.

“You’re such a romantic, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you,” you nudged his side teasingly, “But I— Jess I do love you, and I’ve probably loved you for a long time even though I didn’t want to let myself admit it.”

“Wow, okay Mr Darcy… Wait ‘til Luke hears that the real reason you’ve only just told me that is because you think he’s embarrassing,” he mocked, but you felt him shuffle closer, “I’ve definitely loved you for longer than I thought I had too, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Much better, Miss Bennet,” you laughed, linking your arms and leaning against his shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head.

You felt Jess’ chest rise and fall as you closed your eyes and let the sound of the stream beneath you wash over you.

“So, like, I don’t know the protocol with the whole ‘best friends to lovers’ trope like you do, so you’re gonna have to help me out here,” Jess chuckled.

You sat back up to look at him whilst still keeping hold of his arm, “Hmm, I think what’s meant to happen next is you kiss me and ask to take me on a real date. Pretty sure that’s right.”

“Right, everyone’s favourite cliche moment,” Jess rolled his eyes jokingly but cupped your face with his palms, “God, what have you done to me?”

“You looove me,” your response was muffled as he pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, at first gently and then with a touch more urgency.

When you pulled away, he let go of your face and smiled softly, “So about that date?”

“You got it, Mariano,” you grinned, kissing him quickly once more as you paused, “But you’re going to have a tough time doing anything as romantic as annotating my favourite book and writing me a love note, you know.”

He scoffed, “Oh I’ve got plenty more where that came from, Y/N.”

“Is that a threat?” you giggled, leaning back into his side.

“Just you wait and see.”

———

ok so i kinda lost my way with this a bit eventually and i’m sorry it’s quite short but i had sooooo much fun writing it. i love jess so fucking much and i’m so grateful for all the jess requests i get — trying v hard to work through them asap because it’s so fun.

thanks for reading! here’s my masterlist for more <3

[quin-ns]

Fake Blood (Ethan Landry x Reader)

Word count: 5.6K

Summary: spoiler: the blood isn’t fake. alone in your apartment after your friends had been attacked, you ask ethan to stop by. he does in an unexpected way and you get more than you bargained for

Tags: (18+), friends to lovers, minor violence, knife tw, flirting, making out, virgin!ethan, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, the ghostface robe stays on during sex, denial ab ethan being a murderer :) (if bad why hot?)

A/N: just watched scream 6 for the first time only a few days ago and couldn’t get this psycho out of my brain (tiktok edits didn’t help lol). timeline might be a little wonky but tbh it’s not relevant. also this follows the theory that ethan did the big apartment attack. I really wasn’t expecting this to be this long but it’s worth it yall I promise

cross-posted to ao3 • scream masterlist • main masterlist

As much as you liked Mindy, if you knew becoming friends with her would lead to you being integrated into her friend group of past and present serial killer victims, you might’ve thought about asking someone else to partner up with you for a presentation in your film studies class.

When you’d asked her, it was mostly to avoid having to accept an offer from a guy named Jason, who had always stared at you during that class and brought up the ‘Stab’ movies whenever he could (this was before you knew your friends knew him, but you still got a weird vibe from the guy).

She’d been excited to hang out with you after you two gave your presentation, and that’s how you wound up spending most days with her and her tight knit group of friends.

You were probably closest with Mindy, but you liked her brother too. For a guy named Chad, he was actually pretty chill. You got along with Tara as well, who was in a bit of a rebellious phase after being attacked and nearly killed, which you only learned about once they trusted you enough. Her older sister Sam was mostly cool too, but a bit overprotective. There was a gloomy aspect to her, but you supposed it made sense given that she was betrayed by her murderous boyfriend and now the internet peddled theories that blamed her for a series of killings in their home town of Woodsboro.

They had a tight bond, and even though you grew close with each of them, you knew you’d be an outsider. Like Tara and Sam’s roommate Quinn, Mindy’s girlfriend Anika, and Chad’s roommate Ethan. You all had shared multiple conversations about their trust issues. It must’ve been hard to even start to trust people after all that.

Out of all of the other “newcomers” as Mindy once put it, you got along with Ethan the best. He was a little quiet and sorta dorky (which your friends would tease him about a little—all friendly, of course) but he was fun to talk to. You guys liked a lot of the same stuff, including horror movies, and it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

In your opinion, with his curly dark hair and eyes to compliment, the whole “shy guy” thing was part of the appeal.

You wondered if he’d ever make a move, or if he even knew you were curious about him in that way. You wouldn’t go so far to say it was a crush for your ego’s sake, but you wouldn’t send him running off with his tail between his legs like you did with most guys.

Like that guy Jason from film class, who, just before Halloween, was killed alongside his roommate by a masked killer.

“Didn’t he have a thing for you?” Mindy asked you as you were all gathered around the TV, finding out the news together.

You were sitting crammed in a chair next to Ethan since the others had all taken up the couch space. He didn’t seem to mind, but it did unfortunately make it easy for them all to look your way and stare. You didn’t like the attention.

You were in shock at the news, especially when the anchor revealed Jason had also killed your film professor. Ethan pointed that out, saying if the guy was crazy enough to do that he might’ve even gone after you.

“Maybe the killer who killed him did you a favor,” Quinn suggested in response to Ethan.

The thought terrified you. You looked around the group. “Do you guys think he really would’ve hurt me? He seemed weird, not psycho.”

“We talked not that long ago, nothing seemed off,” Tara revealed with a grim look. “He asked if you and Sam were gonna come to the party.”

You hadn’t planned on going—what the hell would’ve happened if you had?

You exchanged a look with Sam, who seemed to have the wheels in her head turning.

You zoned back into the news as the reporter explained the mask found was a ghostface mask—like from the Stab movies. And of course, the actual Woodsboro killings.

“Pack a bag,” Sam told her sister, springing up to move around the apartment building.

Sam and Tara argued, which was a little weird to witness. You tried to sink back into the chair, while Ethan looked at you like he wanted to say something.

Hopefully it wasn’t “get out of the chair” because you didn’t think you could move.

The night ended with you going back to your little apartment alone. Your roommate was out of town and so your anxiety was on high alert.

A lot had happened that night apparently, including Sam and Tara getting attacked in a convenience store and them being questioned by the cops.

As much as you cared about them, you feared what would happen if you were with them.

That’s why the next night when you were invited over, you had been hesitant. A government paper was the perfect excuse, but you had FaceTimed with them so you all could keep an eye on each other.

You sat at your little desk, your laptop opened to work on your paper, and your phone propped up on your cup so you could talk to them hands free.

Apparently everyone was together at the apartment except Ethan, who told you he was studying in the library when you texted to ask him. You responded that you were working on a paper and that if he wanted to come over to keep you company, he could.

You’d spent some time alone with him, but not a lot when you really thought about it. It was always in the group—who were all murder suspects, according to Mindy’s movie rules.

You knew you weren’t the killer, and you had absolutely no motive. The others were still suspicious of you so that hurt a little (maybe that was another reason why you were keeping to yourself), but you did your best to understand that they weren’t just suspicious of you.

Everyone was a suspect, and no one was safe.

You felt even less safe when Mindy said she’d call you back. You didn’t know why she had to hang up so urgently, but you had a feeling it had to do with the emotional conversation Tara and Sam had been having in the background. You couldn’t make out most of it clear so you avoided mentioning it.

You sighed and checked your chat with Ethan. He hasn’t responded to your text. You were getting nervous now that you weren’t video chatting with your other friends anymore and the thought of being home alone didn’t bring you much ease.

You thought about just going over to the Carpenter’s (and Quinn’s) apartment, not wanting to bother Ethan further. Maybe he was ignoring you on purpose.

However, it was a far walk there. You didn’t feel safe making it alone at night—especially with a killer on the loose, likely targeting your friends. If you had a car, maybe, but you were a broke college student who could barely afford a place to live.

You sucked it up and double texted Ethan, this time asking if he could come over and that you were worried.

When he didn’t respond right away, you gave it a few minutes.

A little while longer passed and since you now couldn’t focus on your paper, you tried to call Mindy back. Then Tara. Then Chad. Then Sam. Then Quinn. Then Anika.

Not a single one of them answered.

You took a deep breath. Then, you went to double check that your door was locked.

You tried to call Ethan, but his phone went immediately to voicemail. It must’ve been dead or powered off.

That left no one else to call, and you felt more alone than ever.

You sat down at your desk and tried to focus.

You ended up going to your bedroom, putting on sleep clothes, and watching a comfort show under all your blankets instead, paper completely forgotten.

Your phone dinged from your bedside table and when you looked at it, you saw a message from Ethan. Only a few hours late, but he said he was on his way up.

That was sudden. You tried to not overthink being alone with Ethan too much.

A few moments later, there was a knock at your front door.

You climbed out of bed, not really caring that you were wearing sleep shorts and a baggy shirt. Your friends had seen you go to class in about the same when you had all night study sessions.

When you got to the door, you got a little nervous. But you knew it had to be Ethan, so you tried to push the anxiety aside and unlocked then opened the door.

You were met with shock and horror.

Towering over you in your doorway stood a figure in a black robe… and a ghostface mask.

You tried to slam the door, but the person caught it. You choked on a scream when they shoved their way in, holding a knife. There was a small stain of red on the metal blade and a darker, bigger mass on the robe.

Blood. Blood was red.

You scrambled back and tried to think of where to go. None of the doors in your apartment locked, not even the bathroom door.

Your heart and mind raced and suddenly you were spewing words.

“I don’t know what to say to make you not kill me, but I please don’t,” you rushed out.

The person—the killer—moved closer to you after shutting and locking your front door.

You ran, but there was really nowhere to go. The killer ran too. You tried to lure them to the bathroom and shove them in, but they dodged and had you almost within their grasp.

They didn’t slash the knife, though.

You ran for the front door, but the killer grabbed you by the arm. You were shoved back against your hallway wall and pinned. Your back slammed against the wall, but not hard. They held the knife to your throat—not too close, but it was still there and still kept you frozen.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

The words came out before you could stop them. You internally scolded yourself. That’s the kinda shit the girls who got murdered asked.

There was a laugh, and then a familiar voice.

“I’d never do that.”

By the time the killer reached for the mask and pulled it off, you still hadn’t processed your shock.

“Ethan?” you gawked up at him while he gave you a cheeky smile. He let the mask drop and the hand holding the knife fell to his side.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he said through a smile, excited eyes scanning your face for realization.

“Is this… is this a fucking prank?” you questioned, finally comprehending. “Ethan, what the fuck!?” You shoved him back by his shoulder, admittedly a little pissed. “You’re covered in blood!”

He stayed standing in front of you.

“It’s fake, I promise. It was just a joke,” he reasoned, looking a little guilty. “Y’know, cause Halloween and… alright, maybe my timing isn’t great.”

You scoffed out a laugh at that. “It’s terrible timing. There really is someone after us.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Ethan apologized with a small, apologetic smile. You stared at him, still surprised. He looked so innocent for someone that could pull off, let alone come up with, such a messed up prank.

“Is this where you’ve been? Dressing up to mess with me while there really is a killer after us?” You questioned, raising your brows and crossing your arms.

“Y’know, if there really is a killer after us, we probably shouldn’t let each other die virgins,” Ethan stated in a flirtatious way he easily could’ve played off as a joke. Maybe it was entirely a joke, but you played along in a different direction.

You scoffed. “And you’re just assuming I’m a virgin?”

He shrugged, the long fabric of his costume rustling. “I see how you are with guys. They want you, you never want them.”

“So what, I’m a tease?” you guessed, used to hearing that but a little disappointed to think it would come from him.

“No,” he clarified quickly. “But they’re just never good enough for you and you know that. Like that jerk Jason.”

You cringed a little at the mention of him, and then felt bad about that. The guy had been murdered, after all.

“Don’t say that, he’s dead.”

“So what?” Ethan asked plainly, surprising you a little. “He was a killer too. He could’ve gone after you, you should be grateful to whoever did it.”

You furrowed your brows. He was starting to sound like someone else. “Grateful?”

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be.” Ethan’s expression as he spoke was one of reassurance. “You could’ve been next, you never know. He was one of those guys who couldn’t take a hint that he was beneath you.”

You had no idea he thought that way about you—that there were men he deemed unworthy. It was enough to distract you from the shift in his demeanor.

“And what? You’re saying you’re one of the guys who’s good enough for me?” you couldn’t help but wonder. You never thought about your dating history (or lack of) like that.

“Hell no,” he said, surprising you yet again. You were expecting a ‘yes’ with the way he was coming onto you all of the sudden, but what he said carried even more of a self-depreciating brand of charm. “But I’m hoping maybe you’ll pity the loser who’s had a hopeless crush on you for a while now and give him a chance.”

“You’re not a loser,” you said before you registered the rest of his words. When you did, you were taken aback at the confession. “But you’re not usually this… bold, Ethan.”

You wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but there was a lot wrong these past few hours.

“What can I say? I’ve been feeling more confident recently.”

You hummed, understanding that in a way.

“Maybe it’s the whole ‘we could die any second’ thing,” you ventured a guess.

He smiled to himself, like you’d just referenced an inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Could be,” he agreed. He laughed a little and looked down at himself, then met your eyes again. “Sorry about scaring you. It was in poor taste. We both like horror movies… I don’t know, it was stupid.”

You scoffed, but you weren’t really mad anymore.

“I like horror movies, I don’t want to be in one,” you told him, eyeing the knife he held loosely in his right hand. “Is the knife real?”

“What?” Ethan asked, feigning confusion. He lifted the knife and examined it. “This knife?”

“Yeah, that knife,” you parroted back his playful tone. “You said the blood is fake, but is the knife real?”

A devious look crossed Ethan’s face. He held it to your throat slowly, holding it horizontally. You didn’t flinch, much to his pleasure. He seemed almost impressed.

“Gotta be authentic, right?” he mused, eyes flicking to your parted lips as you breathed steadily. “Can I kiss you?”

When his curious eyes looked back at yours, you couldn’t help but notice he still held the knife. The rush of excitement you felt scared you more than the fear of him letting it slip forward.

“What’s the knife for?” you asked with a surge of confidence, taunting him a little. “If I say no?”

Ethan laughed at that. He pulled it back and let it drop to the floor. It clattered against the wood, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. But it wasn’t from fear—it was from anticipation. Maybe your curiosity was a little more than that after all.

“You’re safe with me,” he assured. “Promise.”

His words felt layered, but in a way you couldn’t define.

Perhaps it was his way of saying he’d protect you. Maybe it was strange, especially given his entrance, but you found yourself feeling exactly that with Ethan. Safe.

Nothing was going to hurt you, certainly not him.

“About that kiss…” you started, giving him the indication that he was looking for.

Ethan took the hint and ran with it, lips crashing into yours in the blink of an eye.

His lips were soft, but the kiss was needy and hungry. You tried to move your lips in sync with his, but he was much more dominant.

A joke that you’d never say flashed by about him practicing.

It was easy not to laugh when Ethan’s hand threaded into your hair and his tongue began to explore your mouth.

The leather glove felt strange. It made you pull back a little, which you almost couldn’t do with the way Ethan eagerly chased your swollen lips with his own.

You glanced over his costume again. It looked really legit—when did he have time to get it? Was he actually gonna wear this for Halloween? You swore you remembered him and Chad talking about some other costume he made out of cardboard for the frat party.

Before you could spiral down that path, Ethan pulled the leather gloves off quickly and cast them aside. It was like he could read your mind. Both hands went to your face, pulling you to meet him halfway in another searing kiss.

You didn’t know what was coming over you, but whatever it was was causing arousal to stir in your belly.

You figured out the answer to that pretty quickly.

It was want. You wanted Ethan.

“Is the other offer still on the table?” you uttered softly when you and Ethan had to part for air.

He grinned, unable to contain it.

“Thought there was no way in hell that would work,” Ethan admitted a little breathlessly. “Thought I never stood a chance with you, but I liked you anyway.”

Ethan had a boyish charm about him usually, but now that was combined with a streak of deviance that you finally now noticed.

You weren’t expecting to be as intrigued by it as you were.

“Give yourself a little more credit,” you told Ethan, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch a little. One hand rested on your shoulder and the other fell to hold your hip, tucking under your baggy shirt and rubbing your skin beneath. “You are pretty cute.”

Ethan’s smile only grew, but when you leaned in to kiss him again his lips met yours.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and guided the two of you to the ground with your back leaning against the wall. He was in front of you, on his knees, with you in his lap.

You ran a hand through his curly hair and you guided his lips back to yours. From what he’d revealed, Ethan hadn’t had a lot of experience with girls. It was a damn shame, because the boy was a great kisser.

His hand caressed your thigh as he trailed upward. You gave him a soft sound of encouragement when his fingers found their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asked, which made you want to grab him and kiss him again.

“Yeah.”

His hand slid into your shorts and your underwear.

One finger—you guessed middle—pushed inside of you. A small gasp escaped you at the intrusion and he watched your face.

Ethan was making sure the sound wasn’t of pain, which it wasn’t, and you appreciated that.

He withdrew the digit, then pushed in again. He repeated the motion a few more times before adding his index finger.

Ethan’s breathing grew heavy as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. He thrust and curled them inside you with rhythm. He managed to find one pretty quickly. That plus his thumb rubbing at your clit, you were falling apart in mere minutes.

Your brief orgasm rocked your whole body, leaving you clenching his fingers and quivering.

Ethan muttered things to you, but you could hardly hear over the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your head rested back against the wall as you caught your breath, still trembling from the aftershocks. Ethan withdrew his hand from between your legs and out of your shorts.

Your eyelids felt heavy, but in between slow blinks you saw him lift his fingers to his lips. You watched breathlessly as he placed them into his mouth and moaned at the taste of you.

No words would come out of your mouth, but he took rendering you speechless as a compliment.

“I’ve thought about that,” Ethan started, voice a little ragged. He was watching you, but his hand had moved off to the side. “What you’d look like… what you’d sound like… what you’d taste like.” The awe in his eyes as he spoke left you swooning.

“And?” you managed, sitting up a little straighter.

With the change in your angle, you could feel the bulge in his pants, even though the added layer of the costume he had yet to remove.

“You’re better than I ever imagined,” Ethan finished.

A scrape against the floor alarmed you. You looked to the sound and saw Ethan grabbing the knife off of the floor.

You watched as he brought it between your bodies. He first tucked it through the leg of your shorts, the cold metal sliding against your skin as it caught under your underwear as well. Then, he pointed the sharp side facing out. Finally, he sliced up through the fabric. You gasped a little as the cold air of the room hit your newly exposed skin. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the tattered material away from your body.

You did the honors of pulling off your shirt. You didn’t have a bra underneath and you almost laughed at the way Ethan gawked at your fully naked body when you cast it aside.

“Your turn,” you told him. You were completely undressed, while he still wore the long, black disguise.

“Actually,” Ethan said a little eerily. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I was thinking I could leave it on?”

It was a question, there was room for you to say no. Maybe you should’ve, it was a little weird. But you weren’t really thinking about that. You were more focused on how badly you wanted Ethan to fuck you, and that clouded your brain.

“As long as you don’t put the mask back on,” you relented in a joking tone.

“You’re so fucking cool,” Ethan rushed out before slamming his lips into yours. The knife was cast aside again—you didn’t see it happen, but both of his hands were on your face.

You laughed a little against his lips, dazed and drunk on arousal. You didn’t really care about the logistics of it.

His hands moved down, but you were distracted by his lips dominating yours.

You heard the sound of his zipper being undone and he moved a little—you guessed shoving his pants down his thighs.

There was no time to look down because in a rush, Ethan was pinning you back against the wall with his body. One hand gripped your waist, holding you in place for him. The other was presumably guiding his cock to your entrance.

You gasped a little against his lips when he started to press forward while simultaneously pulling you down into his lap. The fabric of the costume draped over your thighs, blocking your view.

The stretch of his cock pushing into you was more intense than you could’ve predicted, but your whole body trembled with pleasure at the feel.

Finally, he either got too excited or lost his patience, and guided you down the rest of the way until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan cursed to himself, body straining to keep from moving. His head dropped to your shoulder, heavy breaths hitting your neck. He leaned against you, forcing you against the wall.

His cock twitched inside of you and his body tensed, trying to hold back.

You panted slightly, trying to get your breath back. You ran a hand up his back and you felt him shiver. Your hand moved up the back of his neck and into his mess of curls.

You always liked Ethan’s hair.

You gave a small, barely qualifiable tug, but it had an effect. His body jerked, causing him to move inside of you. You gasped a little, but the motion felt good.

He lifted his head to look at you. His face was a little flushed and the lust blown look in his eyes made you quiver.

“You can move,” you whispered out, not trusting your voice.

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He secured the arm around your waist a little tighter and he put the other hand on the wall, giving himself leverage.

The slow drag of him moving out of you made you gasp for breath. The thrust back in knocked the air out of your lungs.

He set a quick pace after that, hips slamming eagerly into yours as the pleasure and excitement overwhelmed him.

It felt good, really fucking good.

Neither of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were sure you’d figured it out because your whole body tingled with pleasure.

You cried out his name, which only spurred him on.

In a jarring movement you could hardly track, Ethan dragged you from the wall to the floor. He put himself on top of you, never once withdrawing from inside of you.

He watched your face as he pounded into you. Ethan had more leverage this way, able to grip your hip in one hand while the other held the top half of him off of you by being planted on the floor near your head.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, which you couldn’t see because the bottom half of your body was covered by the black costume. You hardly paid any attention to that aspect. You didn’t care that he wore it, not when you were this caught up in pleasure.

(In hindsight, you should’ve).

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Ethan breathed out, hips starting the stutter with every thrust.

The knot in your belly started to tighten as he buried himself into you over and over.

You couldn’t speak, your breathing was so labored as you reached to cling to him.

His head dropped down to your shoulder as he allowed more of his body weight to fall onto you. You found yourself enjoying the feel of him truly being on top of you.

You hardly noticed the fake blood smearing onto your bare skin. When you did, you were too gone to care.

You bucked your hips, meeting his stuttering thrusts. He was getting close to his edge and so were you. You moaned beneath him as his forceful thrusts sparked pleasure through your entire body.

“I’m close,” you managed to moan out against his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan groaned out, cock pulsing inside of you at the thought. He lifted his head enough to be able to watch your face. “Come again for me, please,” he panted out, nearly falling over the edge at the mere anticipation.

The begging was hot, and your body was already ready to give him what he wanted.

You noticed his eyes flicking down your body, seeing the red stains on your skin. That was quickly forgotten by you when your whole body began to tense and quiver. You held onto him tight as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You didn’t see his eyes linger.

Ethan couldn’t hold it together, not with the way your body tightened around him as your orgasm rocked you.

He collapsed on top of you, holding you against him as his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were clenched shut as he frantically shoved his hips against yours, burying himself deep. His cock twitched, his whole body shivering as he spilled himself inside of you with a moan.

The sound of him alone was enough to prolong your pleasure as you rode it out, but the extra movement and the feeling of him filling you was an added bonus.

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively pulling the air from your lungs.

After a moment, he found the strength to roll off of you, only to then drag you to his side.

“I can die a happy man, now,” he joked morbidly.

You shoved him a little by the shoulder like you had before, but not enough to actually make him go anywhere.

“Don’t say shit like that,” you argued weakly.

He flashed you a brief grin. “I meant it as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes and did you best to laugh it off.

You lost track of how long it took you to move from the floor to your couch. The same thing happened between the time it took for you to get from the couch to your shower.

It was a tiny shower that couldn’t fit two people, so you rinsed off as quick as you could. You were tired, and your legs felt weak, and you knew you’d be sore in a way that would make it hard to keep calm tomorrow.

Whatever he had used for the blood, at least it washed off fast. You were able to finish up in a matter of minutes.

You threw on new pajamas and crawled into your bed, managing to tell Ethan to take however long he wanted and that he could stay over if he wanted.

You found yourself hoping he would.

You were nearly asleep when the shower shut off and Ethan finally joined you in bed. He was only in his boxers and a black t-shirt, which he must’ve been wearing under the costume robe.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind about the costume, wondering why he’d gone through all of that just to mess with you for a minute—albeit a terrifying minute. It didn’t seem like him, but then you remembered you’d only met him a few months ago.

You were so exhausted you fell asleep in his arms, not awake enough to care about all of the weird details. In fact, the only thing you could think about was how much you liked falling asleep with Ethan’s arms around you.

In the morning, you found out your friends had all been attacked.

You showed up with Ethan after the feed on your college’s chat app blew up with images of cops swarming and ambulances outside of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s apartment.

Mindy seemed relieved to see you, but not so much when she realized Ethan was with you. Maybe she’d cleared you as a suspect in her head.

She yelled at him to stay back, accusing him of being the killer. Nobody was taking Quinn’s death well, but Mindy was especially heartbroken over Anika.

“Stay back!” Mindy yelled at Ethan, who did as she commanded.

Everyone turned on him then, even Chad. Everyone except you. They demanded his alibi.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, roomie,” Chad spit at him, amped up.

“I was with Y/N last night,” Ethan defended, holding his hands up in a small show of innocence, before you could say a word. “We were… preoccupied, alright?”

You wanted to elbow him for how he worded it, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried. It might’ve been on purpose, you weren’t sure.

He wasn’t close enough to do that, though, and now all eyes were on you.

“Yeah, he was with me,” you backed Ethan up.

You weren’t going to leave him hanging because it was the truth, but you knew what that implied, and so did your friends. They all shared subtle—but not unnoticeable—looks. Your face felt warm, while Ethan bit back a prideful smile.

“So you guys, um…”

“Chad, stop,” Tara scolded him before he could point out the obvious.

“Point is, we had nothing to do with this,” Ethan stated.

We?

They were suspicious of him, and now he was lumping the two of you together. There were always two killers in the movies—you began to doubt if the alibi would ease their anxiety or only spike it.

You thought back to when he had showed up to your apartment in that costume. He’d scared you, but you accepted it when he told you it was a joke that he mistakenly took too far.

It made you wonder. What if it was him?

If he wanted to hurt you, he easily could’ve. That didn’t seem to be his intention. What was? Seeing how much he could scare you? Get your heart rate up? Seeing if you wouldn’t believe him?

Or was it seeing if he could put the evidence right in front of you and have you ignore it because of a crush?

Fuck. Maybe it was some weird combination of all. Were you that gullible? Or were you overthinking it now?

Your brain struggled to come up with a conclusion.

You wanted to believe Ethan was innocent. You really, really did.

It was easier than believing you had slept with a killer. Or potentially worse, that you had feelings for one.

Ethan gave you a slight, assuring smile.

Your head told you one thing, but your heart told you another.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you kept your mouth shut and gave him one back.

[bbina]

it’s been a week since that night with wonbin and things between you and him have been a little weird.

these past recent days days wonbin has been facetiming more often, beginning to start petty arguments when you wouldn’t answer his calls and texts or when you’d blow him off to do something else you planned for the day. he’s been a lot clingier and you’re not too sure how to feel

in retrospect, you thought this whole fake dating thing with wonbin would only be until the trip ended just to cut some awkwardness between sungchan and his girlfriend, but after some unforeseen circumstances, you and wonbin had to keep playing pretend a bit longer. now everything has returned back to normal, you and sungchan finally patched up and you’ve gotten over him at this point. so you’re a bit confused on why wonbin is still keen on playing pretend

today wonbin asked again if you were free and if you wanted to go shopping with him since he feels bored and wanted to hang out but you responded that you were preoccupied with some family stuff with eunseok but in reality you didn’t have plans at all. you wanted to have some space between you guys for now especially after that night where he seemed to indirectly confess his feelings. this way you’ll have more time to think about how to break this arrangement you have with him as nice as possible without the possibility of hurting his feelings but you know otherwise that no matter how nice you put it, one way or another it will definitely strain whatever relationship you have with him right now

you could almost hear the frown on his face on the other line when you declined. the last thing he said was “oh okay. text me if anything happens, i’ll call you later” before he hung up the phone

you throw your phone on your bed as you flopped next to it, staring up at your ceiling just thinking about the past few months. how you’ve managed to convince all your friends that you and wonbin have been going out for a while and that you just decided to keep it a secret for god knows how long. you fear that your lies was gonna catch up with you soon but you shook away the thought

just as you could think more about the possible consequences of your actions, you hear someone knocking on your door.

you sat up in surprise. who could it be? could it be wonbin? did wonbin somehow find out that you lied that you were spending time with your family?

the door opens to reveal sungchan.

you let out a sigh in relief as you yelled at him for scaring you. sungchan simply just laughs and sits on the foot of your bed

“what do you want, jinsu?” you groan, lying back down on your bed, not even bothering to give him a glance

sungchan pokes your legs, “what’s with that reaction? aren’t you happy to see me come over?”

you rolled to your side, grabbing your phone as you scroll through wonbin’s updates. you begin to feel a little guilty for ignoring wonbin for the past few days. he deserves to know what you’re feeling

[1:27 PM] w ♥︎: just arrived in myeongdong baby [1:27 PM] w ♥︎: look at this hoodie. it’s such a vibe [1:28 PM] w ♥︎: y/nnnnnnn [1:32 PM] w ♥︎: ur taking too long to reply so i bought it. even if its new u can steal it if you'd like <3 [1:35 PM] w ♥︎: are u busy?? [1:43 PM] w ♥︎: baby this would look so good on u. do you want it? [1:47 PM] w ♥︎: passed by a jewelry store so i bought us matching necklaces [2:00 PM] w ♥︎: a reply might be nice..

instead of replying, you turned don’t disturb on and shut your phone off. sungchan notices your weird attitude and lays down next to you

“what’s wrong” sungchan asks as he pokes your cheek. you turn to face him and shrug,

“nothing”

“sure?”

“what do you want sungchan” you grumbled, rolling your eyes as you sit up. sungchan laughs, used to your mood swings. you wish he could just say it. you know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to do something

“let’s hang out. i miss you” sungchan smiles, poking your sides making you jump. you hate how you’re so ticklish and sungchan knows that.

you grab your pillow and smack sungchan square in the face. sungchan lets out a low grunt of pain

“jesus christ when did you get so violent?” sungchan groans, “can’t i just ask to hang out with my best friend?”

“go bother eunseok instead” you groan, turning your back on him. you really didn’t want to deal with anyone today

“but eunseok doesn’t want to go out” sungchan whines, poking your shoulder endlessly but you still don’t budge.

“y/nnnnn” sungchan drawls, now laying next to you. with an irritated sigh, you sit up and shoo him out of the room as you get dressed. sungchan cheers as he heads out of your room. you rolled your eyes before chuckling. okay maybe there was no harm into this as it has been a while you hung out with sungchan one on one

—

wonbin stares at his phone for what seems like the nth time today. it’s been a couple hours since he texted you and not once did you sent a reply back nor did you even look at his messages. the big "Delivered" staring right back at wonbin

wonbin frowns as he stares at his lockscreen which was a picture of you. you asked him to change it when you saw it since it was a candid picture of you laughing but wonbin didn't listen and insisted he keeps it because to him you look so cute much to your dismay

“why isn’t she replying to me..” wonbin mumbles to himself, shutting his phone off as he pockets it. he sighs and continues on his day. pretending that your sudden change didn’t affect him at all.

wonbin was walking to the bus stop when he passes by the cafe he was raving to you about. he wanted to go with you but you kept declining his invites to hang out.

as he was passing by, he sees someone familiar with his peripheral vision.

he knows that physique anywhere. it looked like sungchan. he stops walking and stands closer at the window to take a closer look

and lo and behold, it was in fact sungchan!

wonbin was about to enter the cafe to greet sungchan but then he sees that he was with someone. that someone being you

his eyes widened in shock. is that why you weren’t replying to him all day? was it because you were with sungchan all along?

wonbin doesn’t understand what got to him. his heart feels heavy and feels like he shouldn’t have seen you two together. he watches as your head falls back as you laugh at sungchan’s dumb joke. he watches how you look so happy to be with sungchan when in fact it could’ve been with him

his chest tightens at the sickly sight. he scoffs before forcing himself to walk away but the image of you and sungchan who seem to be out on a date is imprinted in his mind

without thinking, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and sends you a quick message.

“can we meet later? i'm coming over"

—

your phone vibrates on the table.

sungchan was telling you about how all the accusations of his ex girlfriend in regards to you back then during the trip. to the point he himself was beginning to question the security of their relationship that ultimately ended up with him and her breaking up.

“i always had a thought that if she didn’t accept who you are in my life then i wouldn’t want them in mine. so i’m really sorry about her” sungchan shares as he recalls everything that happened.

“it was kinda my fault too for ignoring you back then. the way you were acting with me probably caused her to think that way so i’m sorry too” you say apologetically, being empathetic for your best friend. he didn’t deserve that although you were a bit smug that you were right all along for not really liking his ex girlfriend. though it did bother you a little that his girlfriend may have seen through your façade

your phone vibrates again. this time sungchan notices and points it out

“you should probably answer that” he says. you pick your phone up to see what was up.

it was a message from wonbin. you furrowed your brows as you read the message. it felt a little cold to be coming from wonbin

“who is it? is it eunseok?” sungchan asked, peering over to look at your screen. you shake your head no and said it was wonbin.

“wonbin? how are you guys? still going strong?” sungchan continues to ask, his eyes wide. still not accepting the thought of you dating one of his closest friends. to him it almost felt fake cause why would you suddenly announce a relationship that he didn’t know about

“uh yeah” you smile fakely, trying to come up with an excuse for his follow up question. “i guess..”

“hmm i’ve always wondered why you never told me that you liked him. or even the fact that you two were dating all along” sungchan suddenly says outloud

it almost scared you out of your wits with how much sungchan managed to see through your lies. he literally hit it right on the dot. talk about bullseye

“sungchan.. i have to tell you something” you take a deep breath, closing your eyes before looking at sungchan who had worry evident in his eyes.

“you can tell me anything”

“i-”

your conversation is cut off short when your phone starts to ring. it was eunseok who was calling.

“hello?” you picked up, seemingly a bit confused on why eunseok was calling you when knows where you were at and that you were with sungchan

“wonbin’s here” eunseok’s stone cold voice coming from the other end. you hear some talking in the background and you hear wonbin telling him to tell you that it’s urgent and that he needed to see you, “do you want me to tell him that you’re out with su–”

“no! that’s exactly what you don’t tell him” you cut him off abruptly. for all you know, wonbin thinks you were out with your family (that of which included eunseok)

“woah. chill, i won’t” eunseok says, “but you really need to come home now. it’s getting late”

you look at sungchan and mouthed it was time to go. he nods and grabs his car keys on the table. you both stand up as you walk out of the cafe, eunseok still on the line

“wonbin looks upset. what did you do?” you hear eunseok ask as you get into the passenger seat. you already wince at the thought that wonbin caught you lying to him. you hear him talk to wonbin in the background and you’re literally praying to the gods that something else made wonbin upset, “whatever. forget i asked. i’ll see you at home” with that eunseok hangs up

you didn’t even realize that you were holding in your breath til you let out a deep exhale. sungchan looks over for a moment before keeping his eyes back at the road

“what’s wrong?” sungchan asks, worried.

“just eunseok wanting me to go home” you say. technically it wasn’t a lie, it is true that he wanted you home.

“oh, i thought something happened. anyway what were you saying earlier before you got cut off?”

you suck in a deep breath. mentally preparing yourself on what you were gonna say to sungchan

“just promise me you won’t be weird right after?” you plead, looking at sungchan who kept his eyes on the road. you watch as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. as if like he would let anything between you would change

“me and wonbin….. aren’t really together” you admit, bracing yourself for his reaction. sungchan suddenly slams on the breaks, causing you to jolt forward. you were thankful you had the seatbelt on or else you would’ve ended up with a concussion

“what the fuck sungchan!” you yelped as the car halts to a stop. it was a good thing you were at an empty street when this shit happened. who knows maybe sungchan could’ve caused a traffic accident

“what do you mean you and wonbin aren’t together?!” sungchan whips his head around to face you. completely caught off guard. what did you mean by that?

“i’m really sorry sungchan but it was all a lie” you admit, looking down at your lap as you let sungchan process your words. “i-i was really hurt that you had a girlfriend at the time and in the heat of the moment i blurted out that wonbin and i were dating but it’s all not true. we were just pretending til the trip ended. i’m so sorry”

sungchan looks at you with wide eyes. what did you just say?

“so all this time.. you and wonbin… weren’t actually together? but just pretending to? what the fuck, y/n?” sungchan was completely at loss of words. so all this time?

you can only wince at his reaction. you expected this to happen. it was inevitable. it was only about time til your little white lie caught up with you somehow and that time is now

“i’m sorry sungchan i really don’t know what got to me at the time”

“why?”

“huh?”

“why did you do it?”

“it’s because i liked you, okay?!” you finally explode, tired of keeping all of this inside. it was eating you inside out knowing that you were just using his friend– your brother’s friend to get back at sungchan.

“what?” sungchan blurts out, did he hear you right?

“yes! i liked you, sungchan! for the longest time! i had a crush on you all this time and when you revealed that you had a girlfriend i was hurt! i wanted to get over you so that’s why i did it. god!” you bury your face into your hands, embarrassed beyond measure. you want nothing in this world but to swallow you whole. it was too late now

the car ride turns silent after that. sungchan stunned by your outburst. he doesn’t know what to say or how to feel, even. but the question in his head remains, why say that now?

“i don’t know what to say…” sungchan starts, trying to come up with something but eventually ends up with nothing.

“i know you don’t feel the same. you’ll always see me as your best friend’s little sister and i get that! but i just had to get this off my chest since it’s eating me alive. now please take me home” you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes. you harshly wipe away your tears as you wish that this car ride would end sooner

maybe you should've kept this one to the grave

sungchan stays quiet after that. not wanting to make things even weird than they already were. he needed a few days to process everything. to think about everything that went down

after what seems like forever you two finally arrive at your house. you and sungchan don’t say anything when he puts the car to park. not wanting to make wonbin wait much longer, you start to unbuckle your seatbelt

“wait!” sungchan calls, his arm extended out to prevent you from leaving just yet. “i just wanted to say that thank you for telling me your feelings” he starts

you internally groan, not wanting this kind of conversation with him. the secret is out so there’s nothing else left to say. all you wanted was a bit of dignity left in you but you know that’s a lie.

“i think you already know where this is going?” sungchan sheepishly smiles. of course you know. you know damn well he doesn’t see you like that and he never will. you accepted that fact a long time ago

“i know sungchan. i know” you smile faintly at the boy. “from the get go i can already tell but i just wanted to come clean and forget all this happened”

sungchan can only smile apologetically as he watches you compose yourself. he now understands why you were so harsh and brash around him during the trip. it was normal for you to react like that especially since he kept having a girlfriend from you for a while and the fact you had to find out unprovoked on a trip with friends, it was pretty normal for you to react that way

“friends?” sungchan prompts, opening his arms.

“you dumbass!” you cried, wiping a stray tear from your cheek, “friends” you invite yourself into his arms.

you think of it as closure for this chapter in your life. you were finally free from the chains of your stupid little crush on your brother’s best friend

your little moment with sungchan gets cut off with eunseok yanking the car door open.

“why the fuck are you guys taking so damn long to get out– oh” eunseok stops rambling when he catches you and sungchan hugging. you pull away from sungchan’s hold when you whip your head towards your brother to see him standing there with a shocked look on his face and wonbin behind him

you made eye contact with wonbin and his expression was something you don’t ever want to see. he looks like he just got betrayed. hurt washed all over his features. you watch him as he purses his lips shut as you scramble out of sungchan’s car

eunseok clears his throat to cut the dead silence. it was unbearable for him as it was to you. you hated how you found yourself in this tight situation.

you were caught red handed by wonbin himself.

“uh, wonbin’s been waiting for quite some time now so..” eunseok notes, looking around for a distraction.

“i’m gonna go home” wonbin says coldly. his jaw clenched, trying to calm himself down. your eyes widened as you look at wonbin, “wait!”

“save it, y/n” wonbin hisses, walking away from your house.

eunseok looks between you, sungchan and wonbin. wondering what the fuck is happening before you ran after wonbin.

sungchan can only sigh as he watches you run after his friend. he looks at eunseok apologetically before leaving

“i’ll tell you everything later but for now let them talk” was all sungchan said before getting into his car and driving away.

eunseok simply blinks and walks back inside the house. mumbling “what the fuck”

—

“wonbin wait!” you call out as you continue to run after him. wonbin scoffs, “go home, y/n”

as you catch up to him, panting for breath, you grab his arm, forcing him to look at you “wonbin it’s not what it looks like!” you cried out

wonbin turns around, his expression hardens,

“wonbin–”

“y/n, it’s exactly what it looks like” wonbin barks, yanking his arm back from your grip.

heart racing, you struggle to explain, “no i can explain–”

“blowing me off multiple times? ignoring my texts and calls for the past week? yeah i know where this is going. now go home” wonbin tries to shoo you off but the more he pushes you away the more his heart aches

frustration bubbles up inside you, “let me explain goddamn it!” you yelled, stopping your tracks to catch your breath. “you got the wrong idea. sungchan and i were just hanging out-”

“you lied to me. you said you were out with your family? don’t think i didn’t see you at that cafe because i definitely did” wonbin seethes, trying to contain his anger. he didn’t want to lash out on you but with the whole situation, it was hard not to.

your eyes widened at the fact all this time you were caught red handed by wonbin himself

“it’s still sungchan, huh” wonbin chuckles wryly, beginning to accept the fact that it’s always gonna be sungchan for you. you look at him confused. what?

you raise a brow, “what do you mean? sungchan was just telling me about how his ex girlfriend-”

wonbin stops in his tracks, slowly turning around to face you. did you just say ex girlfriend? oh right. sungchan and yujin broke up for a while now. so does that mean that whatever you have going on with him is now over? it’s done? just like that? after literally making you forget about sungchan, after all those heart to heart confessions here you go running back to him? it only took you a day to realize that you won’t need him anymore?

“ex girlfriend huh? i forgot he was single again. so i’m guessing you’re gonna go running back to him? i definitely got the right idea witnessing your little moment at his car back there now that his girlfriend is out of the picture. so are you two are finally together? is it a wish come true? huh, y/n?” wonbin presses on, taking a step towards you. he is in disbelief over the whole situation.

it can’t get any worse than this

his head is screaming at him to stop but he can’t. he’s so worked up that he couldn’t even process what he was saying.

with the way wonbin was talking to you right now, you know he was getting under your skin. you feel your eye twitch after hearing his accusations left and right when in reality he had no place in your life to be acting this way and saying such things about you like that. last time you checked, you two weren’t even a real thing!

“it’s like i’m the only one holding on to whatever we have going on, and it’s making me go fucking crazy.” wonbin fumes, his emotions getting the best of him

“we’re not even together! you’re not my real boyfriend so you don’t get to tell me shit! have you forgotten? we were just pretending to be in a relationship!” you finally snapped, feet stomped on the ground

at the same time you let go of these words, wonbin feels like his heart just broke into a million pieces. your words stinging. of course you two aren’t official. of course you two aren’t fucking real. of course. of fucking course. how could he forget? you were just using him to forget sungchan and he can’t believe how stupid he was to agree on such a thing or let alone even suggest that you use him to get over your best friend

there was a beat of silence after that. the realization of what you just said hits you not a moment later, you covered your mouth in shock. you were too engrossed in the moment to realize what you just said.

“wonbin i-”

“right,” wonbin begins. he starts to laugh hysterically that it’s scaring you. “i forgot”

wonbin finally looks at you. with a smile he says, “we’re not actually together. thank you for reminding me”

“wonbin no i didn’t mean it like that-'' you shakily reach out to him, hands trembling as you attempt to grab his hand but wonbin has already turned his back on you, shoulders tensed. right now he just wants to get out of here, away from you

“wonbin!” you call out, running after him again, desperate to make things right. but by the time you catch up with him, you realize that he’s crying.

wonbin is crying.

he is crying because of you. your heart aches at the sight. you definitely fucked up.

wonbin closes his eyes, letting his tears freely fall. he then looks at you, eyes filled with pain, betrayal and defeat. you opened your mouth to say something but wonbin beats you to it

“thank you for finally letting me realize who i really am to you because it's always gonna be him.. i honestly thought we’d become something after all those days and nights i’ve spent wiping your tears. i got to know you deep inside, i let you get to know me deep inside. i let you in only for you to let walk away with everything i had” wonbin pauses for a brief second,

“i let you break my heart, even if it meant i only get to have you when you needed it.”

wonbin suddenly cups your cheeks. his thumbs wiping the stray tears you didn’t even notice that were rolling down your cheeks

he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing but it’s shaky. he then presses his lips against your forehead. it almost felt like he was savoring the remaining moments of what you two could’ve been

“i’m sorry i can’t be sungchan”

you widened your eyes at his statement. why does it feel like he’s saying goodbye? your chest tightens. it hurts. it hurts so much seeing wonbin like this. the weight of his pain was almost too much to bear and to think everything was all your fault

wonbin pulls away and rests his forehead against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes

“but do me one last favor" wonbin tucks some stray hair behind your ear. "please never talk to me again” he croaks. wonbin pulls your head to his chest for what seems to be the last time. wonbin squeezes his eyes shut, savoring this moment. this moment with you in his arms for the the last time

”what?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of both hearts breaking. you try to reach out again but he slowly pulls away. forcing himself to get away from you, from this mess, from everything. all he wanted was a breather

your tears are now fully rolling down your face as you continue to call out for him but to no avail, he does not turn back once. afraid that if he does, he would just come running back to you.

this time, wonbin chose himself. he always put you first ever since your fake relationship started. he had an internal debate with himself with the drawbacks of this entanglement.

wonbin knew what he was getting into but yet..

now all you can do is watch wonbin walk away from you and your life. your actions haunting you as you dwell in the fact that you did this to yourself. you caused this and now all you can do is watch your world crumble before you

between the lines ★ thank you

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

 ˗ˏˋ prev | next  ˎˊ˗

★ notes .ᐟ probably my most favorite chapter... i wrote this a month ago even before btl was a thing it is now heh

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @wonychu @leehanascent @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @dreamyyyz @ether-yeol @yangasm @qwonbani @starwonb1n @ffixtionista @daegale @scrumptiousloser @seunghancore @marksluvs @wonbinfiles @ohmykwonsoonyoung @reenfluffmarshmallow @bunni @artstaeh @yizhoutv @sie17136 @koeuh @07yujin @poollabug @vernonburger @dutifullyannoyingfox @000rpheus @wccycc @sunus-sun @highhjime @chweverni @toosspicy @heartlvrrss @s9nwoo @yoursyuno

[princessbrunette]

If kook!reader ask pogue!rafe to come with her to midsummer would he go?

𐙚₊˚🎀⊹♡🧁˚₊‧

yes but not without rejecting you one million times. it’s not because he doesn’t wanna hang with you particularly. he’s already fucked you a few times by this point and he’s starting to get a little too attached to the point it makes him mad. it’s because he knows he’ll stick out like a sore thumb. you’re a kook, and you’re just about tolerable — so he would rather not spend the evening cosplaying as wealthy and talking to people he knew looked down on him. it challenged his dignity.

but then you’re looking up at him, that fucking baby bunny rabbit lost puppy needy kitty look with the big eyes and pouty lips and twitching nose, tilting your head and lowering your voice — asking him if you’d done something wrong, as if you couldn’t fathom why a pogue like him wouldn’t wanna be paraded around midsummers.

“there was a god damn storm a few days ago, m’up to my neck in repairs for the same assholes who’re gonna be there ‘cos they can’t do shit for themselves. you really think i wanna spend the night in a fuckin’ rent-a-tux gettin’ talked down on? nah, sorry. no. take one of your other little friends.” he dismisses you, throwing the rag over his shoulder beneath the blistering sun on his work-site where you’d come to visit him, wearing your prettiest sundress in hopes to have buttered him up.

“rafe! s’not like that. the vibes are like, really good there so everyone’s gonna be nice! and drunk! they had this really good champagne last year and it’s all free, don’t you wanna try it rafe? you don’t have to talk to anyone but me!” you beg, all whiny and fuckable so he’s walking away to his station, hoping you get the hint and leave him alone. as usual, you don’t.

“answers no, kid. go home.” he drawls but you tug on his arm until he turns, forcing your body up against his making some other builders wolf whistle in the distance. “y’know you’re on some real thin ice, okay?”

“i’ll let you put in in my butt?” you pout and he frowns, eyes darting around.

“you— what?”

“c’mon rafe, anything you want. don’t make me go there alone. s’embarrassing.”

“so don’t go alone. already told you, take one of your kook friends, know you got plenty of those who i’m sure are dyin’ to hang off your arm the whole night.”

his lack of care over you seeing other people stings, and you blink up at him, all hurt and scorn.

“fine. i’ll ask jj, i think he’s gonna be there anyway, working and stuff. maybe i can pull some strings and get him to be my date inste—”

“jesus chr— alright… fuck. i’ll come. but if i hate it i’m leaving…yeah?” he forcefully detaches your arms from him and bends at the waist to stare into your eyes, making sure you got the message. you seem happy enough, nodding and shooting forward quickly enough to peck him on the lips. he stands up straight with an exasperated eye roll. “and what’d i tell you about the PDA shit whilst i’m at work?” he scolds, but he doesn’t really care that much, he’d even go as far as to say you looked pretty adorable, skipping off happily.

“yeah, yeah — i’ll text you the details!” you squeal, disappearing away from his workplace. you were gonna be the death of him.

𐙚₊˚🎀⊹♡🧁˚₊‧

[snaileer]

Dare to Live (Part 2/2)

DPxDC Part 1

It all started with a dare really. You’d think, after all these years, after having done at least a /bit/ of growing up, Danny would be able to refuse a dare from his best friend.

But here he was, about to drop through a mystic portal with full intentions to make Tucker eat his words.

And Sam too, for agreeing!

“Come on Danny, times a ticking, sands a wasting.” Tucker said in a sing song voice, floating behind the portal lazily.

“Yeah, Danny, we didn’t spend two days finding the perfect dimension just for you to chicken out,” Sam said, laying on her back in the air and pretending to inspect her nails.

Danny felt his eye twitch.

“I told you, Sam, he couldn’t be mysterious and mystical if he tried, even under pain of a double. Dog. Dare.” Tucker emphasized.

Danny whipped his head around, staring his best friend in the eyes, “You really think so Tucker? A double dog dare?”

Tucker smirked, leaning back with his arms crossed and a smug look, “I know so.”

“Then prepare to eat Lunch Lady’s hairnet, Tuck, you’re on!” Danny grinned and shot backwards through the portal.

He relished the way Tuckers face went green as he passed through. Well, greener.

Danny turned invisible the moment he felt the resistance of a dimensional barrier go past him, and boy was that the right decision, the whole place was in chaos.

Danny floated invisibly in the sky with a puzzled look on his face. Was that guy… flying? What in the-?

A laser beam passed through him, making Danny look down to see he was intangible, but why? Could he be tangible again? He focused, and yep, there he was, tangible and visible- visible?! Danny lost focus and disappeared again.

Hmm, okay so looks like his default state here is invisible and intangible but like even more so than back home, interesting.

Danny looked back at where the laser came from, surprised to see an entire ship behind him. And not like a pirate ship, oh no, not even a cruise liner, a big, bony looking alien ship.

Danny wanted to squeal! Aliens! This realm had aliens!

Calm down Danny, remember the dare, mysterious, mystical, think, what gives off big mystical vibes?

Ok, first off, royalty. Danny summoned his crown, ring, sword, and cape, ok good but what else?

Eldritch maybe?

Okay he’s already got fangs, and blue skin, he could probably let his hair be a little more free floaty, and he’s already a full grown adult with shoulders like his dad, that should be enough right?

Another laser shot through him.

Rude!

He looked back, surprised to see a group of people aiming weapons at the big alien ship. He looked closer.

Was the… was the alien ship trying to… to crush this city?

Were these…. bad aliens?

Noooooo, that meant he had to stop them! But he likes aliens!

Danny reluctantly reared up to punch the big ship, pausing when he saw how the other flying people were struggling against it.

Oh Idea?

Super-strength? Now there was mysterious and mystical.

He smirked, oh he had the perfect entrance!

Thank youuu Kingly strength.

Danny positioned himself in front above the ship then created a double actually touching the ship.

He let himself appear, keeping his double invisible as he held out a hand and then swiped it down, using the double to push the ship into the ground.

Luckily, as Danny had just noticed, the ship seemed to be floating just outside the main city area and most everything below it was already destroyed.

Err, well, it certainly was now.

He fought the urge to wince. Mystical powerful beings in the sky don’t wince, Danny.

Still, he looked around at all the destruction. He hadn’t been back in a human realm since his own life, and the destruction had been common place then too, in his own hometown at least.

This was… worse, much worse. He really had to hold back a grimace as he saw a couple ghosts start forming on the edges, he could feel that they were feeding off of his own ambient ectoplasm.

Yikes okay, maybe giving a source of brand new ectoplasm at the sight of a disaster was not the best idea but… he could fix this!

Danny held out his arms, calling the newly formed ghosts to him, letting them use him as a portal to the Zone.

And then he very quickly locked up his aura from releasing more. No one saw that right?

He stood there floating for a minute before he saw the blue and red flying man begin to approach him.

He smirked again, aw yeah time to see if it worked!

Danny lowered himself marginally to meet the man in the middle.

“I am Superman,” Weird name but okay, “Protector of Earth. Thank you for helping us. But…” Superman looked hesitant, “Who are you?”

Aw crap, okay think Danny, big dramatic name, do NOT blurt out your real one. Double dog dare, come on think of something, anything, you have been staring for way too long-

“I am High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms of the Eighth Dimension; The Great One, Feller of the Tyrant Pariah Dark, Tamer of Vortex, Conquerer of My Future Now Past, Keeper of Death and Life, Wielder of the Ring of Rage, Bearer of the Crown of Fire and The One True Balance.” Danny blinked slowly, hoping that was ‘mystical’ enough for Sam because ancients he was really running out of coronation titles there.

“You are well met Superman, Protector of… Earth.”

Hang on. Earth? He was on Earth? Not his Earth but really this was Earth? With Aliens?

He wanted this to be his Earth, dang it why did he have to get the boring ghost invested one?!!

The man looked like he wanted to back up by about thirty steps so.. it worked?

“And.. Your Majesty is here because…?”

Danny stopped his gentle float.

Uhhh. Uhh. Okay good reason, think of a good reason to be here. Visiting? No that’s dumb, it’s not a zoo. Uhh, curious, no that’s not mysterious enough! Okay mysterious, mysterious, think mysterious. OooOooooOo, MysTeRIouSssss.

Who does he know that’d be mysterious enough to pull this off?

…

Clockwork!

Okay, what would Clockwork say? Uhhhh

“You will find out all in due time, Superman of Earth,” Was that good? No that sounded threatening, “But for now, I am here simply to observe.” That was better right? Okay leave before he asks more questions.

Danny floated down to where the other colorfully dressed people stood in a semi-circle.

Well colorful and one in all black.

“Superman, who is this?” The one in all black said with a glare as he stepped forward.

Danny opened his mouth to recite the titles again, points for mystical-ness, when he was cut off.

“Batman, this is King Phantom of the Eighth dimension, he’s… visiting?”

‘Batman’ raised an eyebrow under his cowl, “Eighth dimension, is that at all related to your troubles with a certain fifth dimensional imp?”

Now Danny felt justified in being at least a little offended, “Watch your tongue, Man of Bats,” that was a sufficiently mystical naming right?, “Accuse me of being a fifth dimensional pest again and we shall see how long you last in no dimensions at all,” Danny paused, “Mortal.”

Ha, in your face Tucker, he was so good at this!

Tag list:

@blep-23 @theblackcatscratchpost @fylylowo @coruscateselene @breesperez139 @kataaitheskittle

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 6

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

~3k words

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff! but with tension!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, did I mention tension!?, some alcohol consumption, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

My Masterlist

Author’s Note: The plot thickens!! Thank you for everyone who has read this far! I can’t stop thinking about these two! I just love a mischievous king and a buttoned-up queen! This part is kinda long, but we get a confession!!! The tension is palpable!! Thank you so much for reading!! Mentions of S.Coups and Dino in this part. (Also, sorry for portraying Dino as a lowkey alcoholic, I know he does other things besides drink! Lol).

Taglist: @yeoberryx @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth (let me know if you want to be added!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

You weren’t exactly avoiding Yoon Jeonghan... but you weren’t not avoiding him.

Ever since he’d given you a ride home, you would jump at any tasks that required you to go somewhere far away from him—on errands for other members, early subunit shoots that lasted most of the day with a team he wasn’t on, staying late to break down equipment... anything that made you too busy to stop and give him the chance to talk with you again.

There was no denying it, you had a full-blown crush on Yoon Jeonghan. And you were doing everything in your power to make it disappear.

I feel like a teenager... you thought as you sat at your desk, searching for food options in the area of an upcoming GoSe shoot—the crew and the members were going to be there all day and you had been tasked with finding lunch options.

Paris Fashion Week was only a little over a month away, and you couldn’t get the image of Jeonghan leaning forward against his steering wheel and asking you to hang out again... Guilt suddenly rushing through you at how you’d been avoiding him...

You replayed that whole night pretty often in your head, actually. The moment he invited you out with him and Joshua and Dino, the way he draped his arm so casually against the back of your chair, the way he looked driving you home, him saying that you seemed trustworthy... You would catch yourself spacing out, rerunning the moments play-by-play in your head, only to come crashing back down to reality.

“What are you spacing out about?” Jiyeon’s voice came from behind you. She had been a little nicer to you since Jeonghan called her out that one time. But she was still a pain to deal with.

“Nothing,” you said quickly.

“Well, they’re asking for you downstairs.”

“Who is?”

“Dino wants you to film a challenge of him and Seungcheol,” she said with a noticeable roll of her eyes.

Oh, good. You were relieved that Jeonghan wasn’t involved. You had been behaving so awkwardly around him. When you couldn’t avoid him, he always greeted you. You either bowed, even though he’d made it clear you didn’t need to, or you just completely froze. You were so embarrassed—you had been working together for months! Also, nothing had happened between you two!! These were things you yelled inside your own head, but it was pointless. Every time he walked through the door, it was like the floor had disappeared and you were floating through space, totally unaware of how to behave or what to say to him.

You knew that you weren’t like this around the other members—if anything, you’d gotten more comfortable around them. You’d even gone to drinks with Mingyu, Dino, and Minghao a couple of weeks ago—your second time spending casual time outside of work with the members. It had been nothing like the time you went out with Jeonghan. You’d felt relaxed enough to get tipsy and ended up having a fun time. You weren’t preoccupied with how you were coming off or whether you were saying the wrong thing around most of the members anymore. You’d even started drunkenly arguing with Minghao in Chinese, which Dino had embarrassingly caught on video.

Deep down, you knew you were being obvious and idiotic about this stupid, dead-end crush. You were both adults! And you worked together! You could be friends!! Why was this so difficult!?

The lines of text in your contract kept flashing before your eyes, despite how much you told yourself this was going nowhere.

Romantic relationships between employees are strictly prohibited and will result in the immediate termination of your position.

You tried to repeat this to yourself like a mantra until you realized that you were being completely delusional. Jeonghan has never said that he wanted to form a romantic relationship with you. You just got drinks the one time and got a ride home with him. He was being nice for your birthday, that’s all.

These were the thoughts rushing around in your head when Jiyeon snapped her fingers in front of your face.

“God, wake up! Did you not hear me? Dino asked specifically for you for some reason, so hurry down there!” she said, annoyed.

“Sorry!” You said frantically as you rushed downstairs. Jiyeon was being annoying, but you knew she was right: you were here because it was your job. You needed to stop spacing out and focus on what you were paid to focus on: helping the members with their content.

“Nunaaaa!” Dino said as soon as you entered the practice room. He and Seungcheol were going to do a cutesy challenge together. A favorite fan combo: the youngest and the oldest.

“Dinoooo,” you said in a silly voice. You and Dino had become friends at this point, which made you feel so relieved. He was like your cute little brother who came to you for advice, not to mention for help with his English and his dance challenges. You turned to see Seungcheol sitting against the wall, looking at his phone. He looked up and smiled at you. Seungcheol was easy to talk to. He was committed to being professional, which you appreciated, and you’d gotten to know him a bit more than some of the other members since he often spoke with the staff and was more involved in some of the content and scheduling. He really acted like a leader, on and off camera. You bowed slightly at him.

And then you saw someone sitting not too far from him—a designer bucket hat covered most of his face, but you would recognize those lips, that hair, that frame... you would recognize Yoon Jeonghan anywhere.

“Ah, hello,” you said, switching to a more formal voice and bowing.

“Y/N-nuna, why are you getting all formal with me!? Just say hi!” Jeonghan jokingly chided you and you felt like your chest was going to explode.

“Sorry,” you said, still using the formal language, “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, he won’t leave me alone about getting something to eat,” Seungcheol said, standing and putting his phone away.

“I’m hungry!” Jeonghan whined in a cute voice. God, you both loved and hated it when he did that. He was too good at being playful—he was able to get almost anything he wanted out of the staff, you included of course.

“I have to go to the gym first!” Seungcheol whined back. “Let’s get this over with.” He turned back to you, and you took out one of the many phones that the staff shared for this kind of thing. If the members kept everything they filmed on their own phones, they’d be overheating so much they wouldn’t be able to communicate when needed. So there were a handful of phones that were used for challenges and other random stuff, most of them only had social media apps installed. 

“I’m just here to watch,” Jeonghan said, and he went back to leaning against the far wall of the studio.

You looked at him, and he lifted his head slightly to reveal a devilish grin underneath his bucket hat. He was looking right at you.

How am I supposed to keep my hands steady to film this challenge while you’re here?? You thought desperately.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” you said quietly. The challenge was an easy one, it only took a few takes—mostly because Seungcheol kept cringing at himself, which made Dino and you laugh, and then made Jeonghan laugh. You felt the tension start to mercifully dissolve.

“Let’s go eat!” Jeonghan said as soon as you decided on a video that would work. “Nuna come with us!” He looked at you so decisively that it took you a second to understand.

“Ah, yes,” Seungcheol said, giving you an unmistakable expression of relief, “you take him! I have to go work out first.” What is he, our shared toddler? You thought, even if you were already starting to get excited and nervous at the thought of eating with Jeonghan.

“I want to come!” Dino said. Okay, probably for the best, you thought. But some small part of you was... disappointed? This is getting out of hand.

“I can’t!” you said reflexively, your heartbeat in a frenzy. Your face had flushed as soon as you saw him, but you could feel it growing a deeper and deeper shade of red.

“What do you mean, ‘you can’t?’” Dino asked.

“That’s right,” Jeonghan said, “I thought nuna liked hanging out with us.” He was looking right at you again, standing now as Dino and Seungcheol gathered their things.

“I can give you a ride home again,” Jeonghan’s voice was lower, and more direct. You looked at him, and realized how close he was... He was looking at you so expectantly, one corner of his mouth turned up into the sexiest smirk you’d ever seen.

Jesus.

“Okay, let’s go,” you said, finally relenting. “But I’m not drinking!”

“Ugh, no fun,” Dino said as he walked ahead of you, leaving you and Jeonghan trailing behind.

“You don’t have to drink,” Jeonghan said, clapping you on the shoulder. You practically jumped at the sudden touch, and you swore you could see Jeonghan laughing to himself out of the corner of your eye. “I’m just glad you’re not ignoring me anymore.”

Your head snapped toward him at his words, purred out in a low voice right next to you.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you said futilely.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Jeonghan chuckled at you, his smirk still glued to his face as his dark eyes roved over you. “It’s so cute nuna.”

This was a bad idea, you thought. Your nerves couldn’t handle going out to dinner with Yoon Jeonghan.

He smiled beside you, his own chest thrumming quietly with relief.

***

The place was fashioned in the style of a Japanese izakaya, tucked away on a side street, on the basement level of a narrow building. There was almost no one there. You wondered how the members knew which places would be quiet and deserted. It must be knowledge that grew over time when you’re famous. It was probably second nature for them.

“Let’s drink beer!” Dino said excitedly, waving the bartender over as you sat between him and Jeonghan at the sleek but cozy dark wood bar. The bar stools were crammed together in the small space, and you felt your leg almost touching Jeonghan’s.

Once again, you wondered how you ended up here. How did you end up getting invited out like this? Why had Jeonghan been looking at you so much? Why had he clapped you on the shoulder?

You were deep in your thoughts, pretending to look at the menu, when you felt Jeonghan’s thigh press gently against yours. Your head jerked in his direction by reflex, but he was just smirking to himself and pretending to look at the menu. You tried to pull your thigh away, but he kept pressing his leg further toward you.

You let out a nervous laugh involuntarily.

“What?” Dino said, having completely missed your little vying-for-territory exchange.

“Nothing,” you said, your heart hammering out of control.

“Whoa, you’re already red nuna,” Dino said, “we’re not even drinking yet.”

“I overheat easily,” you said, trying to cool off your cheeks with the back of your hand. Jeonghan was leaning on the bar now, giving his order to the bartender.

“Two of these,” he said, pointing to the menu, “one for her and one for me.” You could only stare at him.

You may have been inexperienced in the romance department, but you weren’t an idiot. He was definitely flirting, and it was driving you insane.

You tried to maintain your composure, focusing mainly on having a conversation with Dino. But occasionally, you would feel Jeonghan’s thigh pressing against yours, making you stutter or blush and snap your gaze in his direction—only to be met with his typical smirk. You nervously downed more and more beer, Dino at least two glasses ahead of you.

“I have to piss,” he said suddenly, his face beet red.

“Uh oh,” Jeonghan said, “Dino’s drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” Dino said, “you’re drunk...” and he staggered off toward the bathroom.

“Should we—” you started to get up to follow Dino, mostly because you didn’t want to be left alone with Jeonghan, but also because he really did seem wasted.

“He’s fine,” Jeonghan’s hand closed around your forearm, gently pushing you back down into your seat. You were so close to him that you could smell his perfume. He was looking right at you—staring at your face again. You felt yourself start to panic and looked away.

“Nuna’s so pretty,” Jeonghan said softly, and you turned to stare at him, incredulous.

“Stop making fun of me,” you said, your heartbeat skyrocketing to dangerous levels.

“I’m not!” his eyes got wider, and he straightened up a little in his barstool.

“Then what are you doing?” you asked, your tone coming out more bristled than you meant it to. Jeonghan paused, his face falling ever so slightly.

“Ah, nuna do you hate me?” He was using a playful tone, but you weren’t sure if he was asking as a joke or not.

“No!” you said firmly, now feeling panicked for an entirely different reason, “not at all!”

“Then why were you ignoring me?”

Is he drunk? You wondered as you watched his face fall into a full-blown pout. He was leaning kind of close to you... Did I hurt his feelings? You couldn’t help but wonder. He was playing idly with the edge of a napkin, glancing in your direction... and reality started to settle in your chest.

Holy shit, he’s not kidding. You thought.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little excited by this. You tried to calm your thoughts, already careening out of control. Was he interested in you? Was he messing around? Did he do this with new staff? It’s not like he got a lot of opportunities to flirt or even talk to women outside of the staff or other people in the industry... Was he just being playful? Your mind was so muddled with all of the possibilities, overwhelmed by any one of them... but you did your best to breath steadily, finally facing him and gazing directly into his beautiful, dark eyes.

“Yoon Jeonghan-shi.”

You had never used such a straightforward tone with him, and he stopped playing with the edge of his napkin—staring at you instead, stock still. His gaze was expectant, and you held it for a long time. You’d said his name so seriously, but now you weren’t sure how to ask what you wanted to ask...

“I’m bored!!” Dino came crashing back to where you were sitting, throwing one arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders.

Your timing!! Dino!!! You couldn’t help but scream inside. Jeonghan looked visibly annoyed, which you hadn’t seen before.

“Ya~!” He said in a raised voice, and Dino stood up straighter. He looked at Jeonghan, then at you, then back at Jeonghan.

“What’s going on here?” he asked. Even wasted, he could’ve cut the tension between the two of you with a knife.

“Nothing,” Jeonghan said before you could interject, “nuna and I were just chatting.” He looked at you seriously, and you understood that you should keep... whatever that was between the two of you.

“You both look like someone died, snap out of it!” Dino yelled, “let’s go to karaoke!”

“Let’s get you a car home,” Jeonghan said, pulling out his phone.

“I’m fine!” Dino insisted, but he was literally hiccupping like a cartoon. After some bickering, Jeonghan convinced him to go home—almost actually pushing him into the car.

The two of you were left standing on the deserted street, the warm glow of the izakaya’s lights hitting your backs. Jeonghan looked away from you, but you could tell the vibe had shifted. You were both a little tipsy...

“I’m sorr—”

“Nuna—”

Just as you were about to apologize for what happened inside, Jeonghan turned to you and spoke in a deeper, softer voice than you usually heard from him. You froze, licking your lips out of nervousness and feeling hesitant to continue.

“Nuna,” Jeonghan said again, then stopped. He exhaled sharply from his nose and looked across the street. Whatever it was that he wanted to say was not coming easily to him, which made your heartrate accelerate at an alarming pace.

“...Yes?” you asked, feeling awkward and exhilarated at the same time.

You stood there, until Jeonghan turned directly to you—staring right into your eyes.

 “I think you’re beautiful.”

All you could do was stare at him in stunned silence.

“I think lots of things about you, actually. I want to talk to you. I want to spend more time with you. I think about you when we’re not at work. I wonder what you’re doing, who you’re with, what your house is like, what you do for fun... I try to find you when we are working. I wonder what you think of me. I get sad and frustrated when you avoid me.”

He was stepping closer and closer to you, as this stream of words that you could barely understand or believe came pouring out, all while he held your gaze.

“I don’t think I can say that I have feelings for you, but I am very interested in seeing you.”

He looked at you, the air between you now full of anticipation. You didn’t know what to say, or even what facial expression you might be making... This was... was this really happening?

“Is this really happening?” you barely whispered.

Jeonghan smirked, and your heart felt completely overcome.

“Jeonghan-shi...” you said slowly, “... I'm...” But the words couldn't come. Your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest, and your legs were threatening to give out...

"I'm sorry—"

[goldenbuckyyy]

IT’LL BE OKAY

Summary: After your Halloween hookup with Eddie Munson, it never really ended from there. Now it’s Valentine’s Day.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6.3kish

Warnings: SMUT (!!), oral (f!&m! receiving), vaginal fingering, raw sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cream pie, making out, dry humping, some angst, crying.. anything else?! Let me know!!

A/N: I had been wanting to write some Eddie for a while now and a lot of people loved part 1! So, decided to write another part to it! I had originally wanted to post it on Feb. 14, but as always.. life and work happens!! So, hopefully you all enjoy. 🥹 I’m tagging whoever asked to be tagging in the first part! Song title inspo: “It’ll be okay” by Shawn Mendes.

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one. 

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts! Love reading them. 🫶🏻

Part 1 | Main Masterlist

Eddie usually hated Valentine’s Day. 

He hated the whole pink and red hearts vibes, the way the word “love” was splattered on every open surface, and the way he would see couples left and right. 

He had never celebrated Valentine’s Day with someone. Not in his eighteen years of life. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever even had sex on Valentine’s Day either. 

Maybe that’s why he hates it so much. 

But, man… you love Valentine’s Day. 

You never specifically said it out loud, but he knew you loved it. 

You loved pink hearts and your clothing sure showed it. You had cardigans with hearts all over them, you had a bag in a heart shape, you’d draw hearts all over him and his tattoos when you guys would lay down naked in bed, and he loved the way you looked lately as you walked down the decorated halls of Hawkins High School. 

He loved seeing your wide smile as you admired all the decorations, the way you’d reach out to touch them with your fingertips with your bright red painted nails, and he especially loved the way he noticed your cheeks blush when someone would ask you who you were going to spend your Valentine’s Day with. 

You’d blow off the question with a laugh and a shrug knowing damn well you had already said no to over a million of guys who had asked you out. 

And when your friends weren’t looking, your eyes would slowly travel to where Eddie was. Where he always was. Leaning against his lockers that were across from you, he was surrounded by his friends, and your eyes would lock with his. 

You’d blush every single time you noticed that he was already looking at you. You’d get flustered and proceed to look away with a shy smile on your lips. 

Eddie wondered how you were the same girl he fucked recklessly in that bathroom at Kassidy Norway’s house that Halloween night. 

That night lived in Eddie’s thoughts for ages. Shit, it still does most nights. 

Nowadays, Eddie had wayyyy more images than he ever thought he’d ever get a chance to see. He was a lucky, very lucky, man. 

He’s seen every inch of you. He knows every inch of you. 

He’s also seen you bent down against a wall in the back of the old movie theater. An image of your skirt bundle up over your ass and your panties shoved to the side flash in his thoughts. 

He’s seen you down on your knees, peebles scraping the skin around them, because you couldn’t wait to get into the car to get him in your mouth. The way you moaned as he fucked your mouth with his cock and the way you shoved your fingers inside your panties to touch yourself. 

He’s seen you spread out in the back of his van, naked as the day you were born, and completely blissful. The way you’d lay out after he’d fuck you would send him chills. He’d fuck you anyway you liked it. Anything you asked of him, he’d do. 

He’s seen you bouncing on his thighs, sitting on his face, riding his fingers, legs behind your head, back arched with your ass up, and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s sporting a semi right now as he thinks about all of this. 

Eddie smiles once you wave bye to your friends and that’s his cue to do the same. He tells the guys he’ll see them later and he strolls towards you. 

You spot him walking towards you and you smile lazily. 

The same smile you wore last night when he dropped you off at your house after some mind blowing sex and some deep talk at his trailer. And maybe a little dancing in your underwear on his bed as he played his guitar. 

He always had fun when he was with you. 

“Hi,” you say with a hip tilt and batting your eyelashes. Your fingertips reach toward his face to push his curls behind his ears. 

“You don’t gotta do all that for me, sweetheart. You already got me wrapped around this,” he grips your hand in his and bites your index finger with a smirk, “little finger.” 

You roll your eyes as he reaches for your bag and proceeds to hold your stuff while he walks you to class. 

Eddie indulges you on whatever topic of the day, giving his input when needed, and then you’re outside of your home room. 

You smile as Eddie hands you your bag and you both look at each other sheepishly. 

It’s always like this between you guys. Shy smiles and teasing grins at school, but completely different in private. Eddie loved it. He loved seeing you squirm in school because of his attention on you and then seeing the complete vixen that you truly are. 

“See you in the last block?” You question curiously, letting your fingers intertwine with his, not really caring who sees. You always said it wasn’t anybody’s damn business. 

Eddie kisses your cheek delicately, “I’m skipping.” 

“Eddie,” you scold as your eyes widen, but Eddie’s already jogging away from you with a smile on his face. 

“You won’t be scolding me tomorrow!” He yells at you and he doesn’t miss the way you break out into a big smile. His favorite smile. 

At 7:30 am the next morning, right as you're walking out your front door to walk to school, you are standing on your porch when you see Eddie standing there with a big grin on his face. 

Your face immediately breaks out into a grin, “Eddie? What are you doing here?” Your eyes darting all over his body to simultaneously check him out and wondering why he has his hands behind his back. 

He’s grinning so hard that his dimples are showing and he looks so handsome. He’s in his regular attire, but you love it. He’s wearing his black jeans with his dangling chains, white chucks, his DnD long sleeve underneath his jean jacket, and his curly hair is messy. Curls framing his adorable face with his cut bangs covering his forehead. You want to run your hands through them. 

You walk up to him and place a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“I got you something,” Eddie says with a whisper and slight hint of mischief behind his tone. You raise an eyebrow, following his arms as he untucks them from behind himself, and you gasp when he pulls out what he’s hiding. 

Eddie watches you as your eyes swell up with adornment and you sigh so lovely that it’s almost sickening the way his heart flutters at your expression. 

He holds onto the fluffy pink teddy bear he had gotten you that has a big heart in the center of it with the words, “Kiss me” splattered in the center. 

He holds it out for you as your expression goes from surprised to amusement to completely grateful in the span of fifteen seconds. You reach for it and squeeze it into your chest. 

“You shouldn’t have,” you quickly say with a breathless smile and Eddie swears he sees tears in your eyes. 

Eddie pulls you into his arms, wrapping his around your torso as the bear gets squished between you guys, and he leans down to kiss your sweet tasting lips. 

He kisses you easily and softly. Almost like it’s second nature to him already. His warm hands grip the sides of your cheeks as your lips move against his in a rhythm that feels natural. 

It’s almost unfair how soft and sweet your lips feel against Eddie’s. Eddie almost wants to come undone right here on your front steps. 

Your free arm, the one not holding your brand new and favorite teddy bear, wraps around Eddie’s shoulders with ease and you pull against his back to move closer into you. 

He chuckles into your mouth and you can feel him smiling which causes you to smile and to slowly pull away, but before you do you give him a million pecks on his lips as you both giggle childishly. 

“You’re sweet on me,” you whisper into his lips as you slowly shove away some of his loose curls that tickle your cheeks. 

“Always am, sugar.” 

In your last class, which surprisingly was the only class you had with Eddie, you were already anxiously waiting for the school day to end. You had already been wanting to give Eddie his gift and you were in your headspace about it when you heard multiple people calling out your name. 

You snap out of your thoughts and immediately sit up straight when Mrs. Johnson is walking over to you with a big bundle of red roses in a glass vase. 

Your mouth parts open in shock as she hands you the vase and you set it down on your desk. You can feel yourself blushing as the girls around you are giggling and asking who sent you the roses. 

“They’re beautiful, honey. You are a lucky lady,” Mrs. Johnson says with her sweet smile and honey voice. You whisper a quick thank you as you easily look over your shoulder at Eddie who’s sitting in the back row. 

He’s staring right at you with a smirk on his face which causes you to break out into a cheeky smile. 

You inhale the sweet scent of the beautiful roses in front of you and sigh in contentment. How did you get this lucky? And who would have thought that Eddie Munson was a secret romantic? 

“Thank you for my roses,” you pant out above Eddie as your arms wrap around his shoulders and your hands go into his curls. Eddie moans as he starts kissing your neck, running his hands up your naked thighs and underneath your pink skirt, and when he reaches your core, he groans with his head tilting back to meet your eyes. 

You smile as you pull his lips to yours once more, “I forgot to put them back.” You whisper teasingly into his mouth. 

Eddie almost cums at your words as he moves his fingers to your pussy, which is already soaked, and he loves that you do stuff like this. Always doing something that shocks him. He fucking loves you. 

Wait..

Does he love you? 

Yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. 

He thinks he wants to tell you that tonight. Maybe make whatever this is between you two official. 

He slips one of his fingers into your warm heat and you whimper as you feel your walls tightening around his digit. Your nails dig into the skin behind his neck and you start grinding your hips against his own. You feel how hard he is underneath his jeans and you can almost feel him throbbing. 

Eddie grips your neck with his free hand, kissing you roughly as he slips in another finger, curling both of them in you to hit your spot, and the feeling of him stretching you out makes shives run down your back. 

Eddie moves his thumb to your clit and starts moving his fingers together, trying to get you to your peak, “Fuck me, sweetheart. You’re absolutely dripping.” 

You lick his lips to taste him, “All for you.” 

After a heated almost sex almost orgasm make out sesh in Eddie’s van, you had told him to come back around nine pm once you knew your parents were asleep in bed and thankfully they were both deep sleepers. 

You told him to go through the window and now here you are. 

Waiting for him in only your babydoll pink outfit. 

It shouldn’t even be considered an outfit by how it was basically mesh and didn’t leave anything to the imagination. 

But you knew Eddie was going to go feral over it. He’s seen you naked plenty of times, but never in anything like this. 

The lingerie was baby pink in color with matching underwear. The little dress fanned out on your waist which you loved. And you looked at yourself in the mirror once more.. just to admire the cute outfit before Eddie ripped it off of you. 

You hear a soft knock on your window which causes your heart to race immediately and you rush to open it. The cold Indiana air rushing over your skin and making goosebumps arise all over you. 

You stand back as Eddie makes his way into your room. You quickly settle into the bed, crossing your legs, and leaning back to make your body look appetizing and wanting for him. You adjust your hair to fall over your shoulders and you hope you look as good as you feel right now. 

Eddie is adjusting his jacket over your empty chair and ruffling his hair as he looks over at you for the first time and he stops in his tracks. 

His lips part open, baby brown eyes going wide, and he puts his hand on his chest dramatically. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack, baby?”

You giggle, “Maybe.” You hook your toe into one of his belt loops and pull him into you as best as you can. His cold hands touch your burning thighs and it feels amazing. 

“You look breathtaking,” your lover says as he cups your face in his hands and leans down to kiss your lips. 

Eddie crushes his own lips against yours, moaning at the taste of your sweet chapstick, and how you always seem to reciprocate to him in the best way. 

He loves the way your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and the way you lean back to spread your legs wide open for his own hips to mold into yours. 

Eddie pulls away slowly, your arms unlinking from behind his neck, and falling down to your sides as you watch him watching you. 

His eyes take in your flushed cheeks, to your already swollen lips, the straps of your lingerie are falling down your shoulders, and it makes Eddie want to groan. 

He looks at your perky breasts covered in the mesh and your pretty nipples are pointy. He rubs his thumbs on both of them over the lingerie and you gasp as the sudden contact. Your thighs rub together as he thumbs your nipples in between his fingers. 

“You’re a fucking dream,” Eddie whispers as he licks his lips while he moves his hands down your full breasts and to the opening of the lingerie. He lets his hands go under the opening and holds onto the curve of your waist. 

“A fucking dream,” he mutters again as he moves his hands down to your matching mesh underwear and he slips his hands underneath the sides. 

Then, Eddie slips down to his knees and he’s pulling your underwear down with him. 

You feel the cold air hit your already soaked area and you whimper as Eddie removes your underwear from your legs. He starts kissing you from your ankles to your inner thighs and that’s where he starts leaving small bites of kisses all over you.  

You adjust yourself onto the edge of your bed, soft goosebumps covering your body as you wait in anticipation for Eddie to touch you, to do anything to you, and you close your eyes when you feel his warm breath against your pussy. 

You feel his fingers slowly start to spread you open and you feel his tongue flick your opening slightly. 

You gasp in pleasure, your belly tightening in want, and your breathing is rising as Eddie licks a strip from your aching hole to your pulsating clit. 

And Eddie feels obsessed with you. He’s obsessed with your pretty legs, your pretty thighs, and your fucking pretty pussy. 

He’s obsessed with the way your body responds to his touches. The way he can spend hours kissing and marking your thighs. And how he loves the way you respond to the way he eats you out. 

He buries his face into your pussy as he starts eating you out as a starved man. He licks your folds, his fingers moving to open you up, and then proceeds to lick your aching hole once again. 

A tingling sensation runs through your spine which causes your back to curve upwards into the air, a pleasurable moan escaping from the back of your throat, and one of Eddie’s strong hands holds you down by your hip. 

He moves his lips towards your clip, sucking and licking it, and simultaneously inserts one of his fingers into your hole. You gasp as you grind your hips into him. 

Eddie moans into your pussy, sending vibrations into your core, and he starts to move his finger into you. Slowly opening you up. “Fuck, almost so fucking tight for me. All for me, right baby?” Eddie rushes out as he lays his tongue flat against your pussy, letting your juices coat his mouth and his chin, and when you look down to meet his eyes… he smiles so hard, his dimples show. 

“You’re a dream, baby.” 

Eddie continues to maintain eye contact with you as he sucks in all your juices. He pulls away, licking his lips messily, and watching your pussy clenching down his finger. He inserts another, your soaking walls clenching down again as you feel his other finger inside of you, and you grip onto the sheets underneath your body. 

Eddie starts panting a little as he watches you squirming underneath him, spread out in all your glory for him. Just for him. 

He watches the way you grind your hips into his fingers, the way your pussy soaks his fingers, and the way you confidently touch your body with your hands. Twisting your nipples in between your fingers and biting your bottom lip in want. 

The knot in the bottom of your belly is getting tighter as pleasure is seeping out of your pores. 

“E-Eddie,” you moan out as you reach down to wrap your hands into his curls and before he can say anything, you shove his head back down to your aching pussy. Needing him to finish you off. 

You hear Eddie chuckle as you shove him down and then he continues to eat you out, just the way you like it. His free hand moving underneath your hips and squeezing your ass in his hold. 

Eddie continues to pump his fingers inside of you, curling them in your walls, and sucking on your clit which makes your toes curl in anticipation. Your hands tighten around his curls, tugging generously, and he never stops. 

“Oh,” you moan out, back arching a little bit to move your center to the perfect angle that will help you achieve your orgasm, and Eddie only goes faster and harder. The knot in your belly starts to tighten and you feel almost over the edge. 

“Eddie, Eddie, E-Eddie,” you continue to moan out his name as you clench your eyes shut as you feel your orgasm take over your entire body. His fingers pump inside of you, his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit, and you bite onto your forearm to try and conceal your screams. 

Your toes curl against your bed as your orgasm washes completely over you as Eddie licks up all your juices until you're shaking and laying down limp on your bed. He removes his fingers from your sore pussy and you look down at him with a lazy smile, he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a moan. 

“You taste so sweet,” he whispers as he leans over to you and kisses you, open mouthed, and lazily with tongue. You taste yourself as you kiss him, both moaning together, and you bite his bottom lip. 

You moan as you wrap your arms around him, “I need you.” 

Eddie whimpers at your words and pulls away from you. He quickly starts to strip out of his clothes as you giggle. You sit on your calves as you both watch each other. He stumbles out of his boots, trying not to fall, and shoves off his jeans. 

You slowly pull off your babydoll outfit and toss it to the floor, watching Eddie as he yanks off his shirt, and you lean back on your elbows. 

Eddie slows down as he watches you spread out for him and he bites his bottom lip. He shoves down his boxers and his red-tipping, almost aching thick cock bounces up and down. He palms himself as he watches you, “Ready for me?” 

“Always am,” you whisper into the quiet room as you do grabby hands for him as his big, lean body towers over you. 

He slips his hand behind your back and one behind your head as your lips move messily against his own. He moves his hips against yours which causes his pulsating cock to move in between your folds and he allows himself to rub against your swollen clit. It sends bolts of electricity all over your body as you had just orgasmed. 

You both moan into each other’s mouth at the sensation, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer into you, and you spread your legs wider to allow him easier access. He pulls away from your mouth, kissing your neck with small licks, and sucks a little bit near your collarbone. 

“You want me?” He whispers into your ear as he sucks on your earlobe. Chills run down your spine as a memory fills your brain when he asked you the same thing a couple months ago on Halloween night. 

You follow the same movements you did that night, pulling his face towards you as you cup his chin, eyes locking together, and you nod as you reach down to grip onto his length. Eddie lets out a shaky breath as he feels your warm hand wrap around him and you can feel him twitching in your hold. 

You thumb the tip of his cock, coating it with his pre-cum, and you rub him in between your folds. Eddie feels the same way he felt that night when he first had you underneath him. He’s aching for you, like he always does. He still feels like he’s going to explode just by being above you. 

You rub his throbbing cock along your soaking pussy and center him with your opening, “Take me.”

Eddie almost cums at your words as he kisses you again. He feels your opening against his cock and he pushes into your tight, warm, fucking delicious pussy. 

You both whimper together as he pushes into your tight hole, bottoming out, and feeling you stretching around him. It burns slightly, but it feels blissful. Never truly accommodating to his size and it always feels just as amazing. The stretch you feel when he enters you almost feels unexplainable. Every. Single. Time. 

Your limbs mesh together in sync, legs intertwined together, and hands touching everywhere they possibly can. You’re kissing each other with open mouths, tongue playing against each other, and then Eddie starts to move. His hands gripping your breasts roughly, twisting your nipples in between his fingers, and moving his mouth to suck bruises into each one of them. 

His thrust are slow and tender as he slowly moves in and out of you. His rhythm going easy and taking his time as he fully feels you around his cock, your pussy clenching around him, and your nails raking down his back. 

“Always so wet for me, huh princess?” 

“Always,” you whimper out as he starts to increase his speed above you. Your lover's hands move down to caress your belly and then he settles them onto your waist, holding down tightly as he tilts his own hips higher as he thrusts inside of you. 

You moan out loudly when you feel him hit the area that sends you the most pleasure, your mouth hanging open with your whines, and Eddie moves one of your legs up to your chest which causes his cock to enter into you at a different angle. 

You grip onto Eddie’s arms as he starts thrusting into you at a rapid, almost animalistic, speed. The wet sounds of his cock entering you fill your bedroom sweetly and you lean down to kiss his collarbone. The sweet smell of sex slowly filling your bedroom and you look up to admire Eddie’s. 

Eddie’s skin is flushed from his cheeks to his chest, tinted pink and beautiful, and you run your tongue on his neck as you reach his soft spot. You let yourself kiss and suck for a second, making sure you linger enough to mark him up. Just the way he likes it. 

“Fuckk,” Eddie whimpers out, “You always feel like fucking heaven. Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. M-Made just for me.” 

You twist your hips a little bit as you move your leg from your chest to rest above Eddie’s shoulder, tugging him by his arms lower into you, and you both gasp as you feel him fall deeper inside of you. Your pussy clenching around his cock trying to suction him in more. 

Eddie chokes on a moan as you squeeze your walls to grip onto his cock, knowing he loves when you do that, and he moves his hand in between your bodies. 

His fingers ghost over your pussy and he kisses your lips, open mouth kisses with his tongue tasting you, “Fuck, baby. I’m not even touching you yet and my fingers can feel your hot pussy aching for me.” 

You whimper as you tilt forward to catch his lips again while he moves his finger over your swollen clit and you cry out from the instant pleasure you feel. 

“Fuck,” he gasps out, clenching his eyes shut for a second, and he laughs. “I’m trying not to cum so hard right now.” 

“I’m close,” you whisper as you feel the aching feeling starting up at the pit of your belly once more and Eddie breaks out into a smile. 

“Thank fuck ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can hold it,” Eddie says as he kisses your lips while he continues to move his finger against your clit. You feel the familiar sensation start to creep up in your toes, you wrap your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, and you start moving your hips against his to cause greater friction between you two. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. Are you ready to cum with me?” 

You nod frantically as your fingernails start to dig into Eddie’s shoulder blades as his free hand grips onto the plush of your hip. 

“Eddie,” you cry, “Fuck! Right there! Don’t stop! I’m about to—“

“Cum for me,” Eddie cuts you off with a demand. 

You gasp out at his demand and you quickly grab his face with both of your hands, your fingers caress his cheeks and his lips, and you both stare into each other in a breathless mess. 

“Together,” you whisper as you both keep moving together in sync. 

And then it happens. 

You choke on your moans as you feel your body explode with pleasure as your stomach tightens and your toes curl into your mattress. Your ears start ringing in white noise as you clench your walls around Eddie’s cock. 

Eddie swears he’s fucking a goddess right now because there’s no other explanation for the absolute dream that’s underneath him right now. 

Eddie watches you come undone under him and it completely triggers his own orgasm. Your tight walls clench around his throbbing cock and he lets himself release into your heavenly pussy. 

Eddie starts to thrust into you harder and faster as his cum fills your walls. You pull on his cheeks to make your lips meet his in the middle and you both are trying to find your breath through the kiss. 

Eddie rests his forehead against yours, softly pulling his lips away from yours, and he admires you as you smile blissfully up at him. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes glossy, hair a mess, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone more beautiful. 

But he’s always felt that way about you. 

He holds your ankle on his shoulder as he slowly pulls out of your cum filled pussy and you both hiss at the emptiness. 

Eddie reaches over to your bedside table and gets a couple tissues. He spends the next couple of minutes cleaning you up, slowly to not hurt your sore pussy, and it almost makes you ache for him all over again. 

Once he’s done cleaning you and himself, he relaxes next you and you pull the covers over your bodies. 

You smile sweetly at him, your heart rate finally slowing down, and you stretch for a second to twist and look at him. 

You admire him from his long, curly hair to his long dark eyelashes that coat his beautiful chocolate brown eyes to his pouty red, kissed out lips and when he catches you starting, he breaks out into a smile. 

You reach out to put your index finger in his dimple and he blushes under your touch. Eddie turns his body to also face you  

“So, babydoll.. who was your first?” Eddie asks nonchalantly as he twirls his fingers through your hair. 

Your eyes immediately go wide with shock at his question and you burst out into fits of giggles. You tug your covers over your naked chest, twisting to look at him, and you settle on your side. 

You can’t stop giggling as he joins in with you. 

“You can’t ask me that, Eddie!” 

“‘Course I can, baby. I’m in your bed naked after we just had mind blowing sex. I think I can ask you anything I want,” he teases with a sly smile that shows his white teeth. 

“You can’t get mad, okay?” 

Eddie’s eyes light up with interest as he proceeds to push himself up on his elbows, “I’m listening.” 

He watches you as you bite your bottom lip, your flushed out face and neck is calming down, and your hair is laid out messily all over you. 

But Eddie still thinks you're the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

That’s why when you say the name of the lucky bastard that you gave your virginity to.. Eddie lets out a choked gasp intertwined with a barking laugh. 

His eyes go wide as he watches you, “Did you just say Steve fucking Harrington?!” 

You cover your face with your hands as you smile widely behind them and Eddie can’t help but laugh so loudly that he’s clutching his belly. 

“Don’t laugh at me!! It was back in freshman year when we were dating, but it was very short lived and we moved past it.” 

You giggle with Eddie as you both clumsily sit down on the bed, facing each other, and then you suddenly see a look come across Eddie’s face that halts your laughter. 

His laughing dies down, his eyes downcast, and he’s frowning for a second. He quickly shakes his head from his thoughts and ruffles his hair to distract himself. 

“Hey, Eddie. What’s wrong?” You ask as you reach for his hand to hold in your own, your eyebrows furr down in confusion at his sudden change of mood. 

Eddie bites his bottom lip in thought before he moves his beautiful big puppy brown eyes to meet yours. 

“It’s just.. I’m not mad that you lost your virginity to Steve Harrington. I’m sure he was a good fuck or what-shit, ignore that! It’s just—fuck,” he blubbers rapidly and you squeeze his hand for him to continue as he sighs loudly, “it’s just.. Steve Harrington.. is Steve Harrington. He’s the popular guy. The handsome guy with the nice hair and cool car.” 

You tilt your head when Eddie watches you with expecting eyes as if you’re supposed to understand what he means, but you don’t get it. What’s so good about Steve? 

Not that there’s anything wrong with him. But you’re confused. 

“I don’t get it?” You say with confusion and a slight pout. 

Eddie looks down, rubbing his thumb on your hand, he says, “Steve is Steve and I’m.. well… I’m just me?”

His voice sounds small and suddenly you feel your heart tighten in your chest. 

“Oh,” you let out a shocked little sigh as you see a side of Eddie that he’s never shown you before. 

A side where he feels inferior to Steve Harrington and he’s showing how he’s insecure about it. 

“It’s just.. I’m just Eddie the weirdo that lives in a beat up trailer park with his uncle and I sell drugs for a living.” 

“Eddie,” you whisper as you try to reach for his face, but he pulls away. He’s suddenly shut himself down completely. 

He almost looks upset. 

“I’m nothing, god… I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize this.” 

Eddie is suddenly shaking his head and jumping out of your bed. You sit up in the bed, holding your sheets to your body, and Eddie is tugging on his clothes. 

“Jesus Christ,” he says with an exacerbated laugh and another shake of his head. 

“Eddie, please stop. I’m so confused, what’s going on?” You try to beg him as he simultaneously shoves on his boots and you shove off the sheets. 

You stand up, naked and without a care, and you stand in front of him as he adjusts his jean jacket over his shoulders. You put your hands on his shoulders to stop him and he curls into himself almost as he’s ashamed. 

He tries to avoid your eyes as you look up to him in confusion, your heart is racing, and you don’t know what’s happening. 

He finally looks down at you, his sad eyes taking in every inch of you, and he looks suddenly miserable. 

His fingertips slowly touch the curve of your waist and he quickly pulls his hands away as if your skin burned him. 

He slowly reaches down to your lips and kisses you slowly. You try to kiss him back, but he pulls away swiftly. 

“I’m nothing,” he says again with shame. 

“Eddie, you’re not—“ 

“I am,” he cuts you off. “And you’re.. god, you’re everything. You’re smart, funny, so fucking caring, and beautiful. You’re so gorgeous that it's honestly insane,” he chuckles as he meets your worried eyes, “You’re everything and you deserve better than me.” 

“Eddie, stop. You don’t—“ 

“I do,” he cuts you off again. “This was never going to work. We aren’t even really together. We’ve just been messing around for months, but we all know where this is going. You’re going to New York or LA to follow your dreams and I’m staying here. You’re going to become someone and I’ll always be a nobody. You don’t need me dragging you down.” 

Tears instantly fill your waterline, “Eddie, what are you talking about?” You beg him as your voice shakes and your lips quiver. 

He shuts his eyes for a moment as if the mere sight of you hurts him. 

“Don’t waste your tears on me, doll. I’m not worth it. You’re leaving in a couple months, so might as well end this before we get too into our heads.” 

He gets the blanket off your bed and quickly covers your body with it before he walks over to your window. 

You watch him, not knowing what to say, and you’re frowning deeply with tears staining your cheeks. What the hell is going on? 

He looks at you as he raises the window up, letting in the wind, “It’s easier like this, doll. Trust me.” He tries to smile, but his lips waver. 

You rush to him, gripping onto his hand that’s holding him steady as he eases himself out the window and onto the roof, “Don’t do this to me, Eddie Munson. Why are you doing this? Please.” 

He almost hesitates, but then he only tugs his hand away from your hold and you let out a whimper. 

“Sorry, doll. Guess you were just into this more than me.” 

He quickly rushes out the window, slamming it shut, and leaves you there with a shocked open mouth and a gasping breath. 

You cover your face as you scramble to sit on your bed. You hold the blanket over your naked body as you cry over what he said to you. 

Had you been more into this than him? 

Did he never really feel the same way you did? Why was it so easy for him to just end whatever this was? 

You grip onto the blanket as you quick step towards your window, looking at the overview you have of the street, and right under the tall street lamp is Eddie. 

Standing underneath the light, smoking a cigarette, kicking his feet on the ground, and then proceeds to get into his van. 

You watch every movement that he does, begging that he looks up at you, but he doesn’t. He just drives away. 

You wonder if he can hear your heart breaking. 

Eddie drives away in his van and his stereo is off. 

Eddie’s stereo is never off. It’s always the first thing he does when he gets in his van. He always turns it on and shuffles through millions of cassette tapes he has and goes through them until he picks the perfect one. 

But right now, he doesn’t want to hear anything. He wants to be alone with his thoughts. 

His stupid fucking thoughts. His stupid insecurities. The stupid ones that made him fuck off from you and ruin everything he had with you. 

Eddie slams the steering wheel with his palm as he rubs his eyes with his free one. He’s beyond frustrated with himself and is cursing at everything he sees. 

He’s such a fucking idiot. 

But he knows he’s right about one thing. 

You’re everything and he’s nothing. 

How could something like that possibly work? 

He scoffs as he feels a small tear run down his cheek, he grips the steering wheel even harder, and yells loudly. Trying to silence the thoughts in his brain. 

He knows it will never work. 

Now he just has to stay away from you and once school is over, he’ll never see you again. 

Taglist: @theshabbygiftofdisillusion @duuhrayliegh @munsonficdump @lelifesaver @avalon-wolf @mcumorningstar @likeficsinthewnd @frootvelvet @optimisticallygarbage @lokis-army-77 @hes-a-rainbow @freakhellfire @roanniom @sunnysaid @freeshavocadoooo @see-were-laughing @lovelyholland02 @ilikechocolatemilkh @buckmepapi @adequate-superstar @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @sydneylaufeyson22 @quixscentsposts @aphr0d1teh @secretdryrose @ooo-protean-ooo @hereforshmut @eddiemunsonthoughts @m1lfptrl @sweetcrechy @alana4610 @tjbabe33 @hesvoid34 @daydreamerblues @bookshelf-dust @bitxhbeforreal @ihatepeanutss @1weirdbitch @lagataprrr @spread-the-hope @aimeephobic @slutfor-keery-quinn @boomhauer @catherinnn

[forest-hashira]

'Til Death Do Us Part

hi everyone! this is my (first) entry for @kentopedia's "Love Through the Ages" collab/event! this is a retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, but with Gojo/Reader. if you want to know the full vibes for this, i listened to Moon Song and I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers on repeat while writing this.

read on ao3 here | wc: ~3.3k | cw: gn reader, satoru is a musician, major character death (reader), hurt no comfort, unhappy ending

Falling in love with you was easy. In fact, it was probably the easiest thing Satoru had ever done in his life; even easier than picking up the lyre as soon as he was strong enough to hold it; even easier than the singing lessons he’d outgrown the need for when he was still just a young boy; easier than charming every young woman he ever came across, leaving a long string of broken hearts in his wake.

But not you.

With you, he’d taken his time, had actually gotten to know you until it felt like he’d known you all his life; he knew your favorite season, what times you liked to take walks in the fields outside of town, even your favorite place to watch the sunset. He also knew that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Falling in love with you was easy, and even after you’d fallen in love with him, too, asking you to marry him felt terrifying. But you said yes, and all that terror had melted into elation. 

There was hardly any time at all between your engagement and your wedding, both of you eager to belong to each other forever, so in love it was almost painful. Though the wedding itself was small – and barely a month after Satoru proposed – it was the most joyful day in both of your lives. Being surrounded by the laughter of your loved ones, everyone dancing and enjoying good food and dancing had made you feel lighter than air, even long after the sun had set; for once, you weren’t even sad that you had missed watching it from your favorite spot.

Falling in love with you was easy. Loving you was easier. Losing you was the most painful thing Satoru had ever experienced.

It was only days after your wedding, after you had promised to be at one another’s side until the end, in the very field where you’d first told him you loved him, where you’d shared your first kiss. 

You had cried out from a sharp pain in your ankle, and when both of you looked to see what it was, you watched a large snake disappear into the flowers. In a panic, Satoru had ripped the fabric of his tunic, wrapping it tightly around the wound, silently, desperately praying that the poison would move slow enough for him to get you back to the town, where he could only hope someone would know how to cure snake bites. He couldn’t lose you, not like this, not so soon after he’d made you his.

When he’d gone to carry you – to pick you up and rush back to town with you in his arms – he had seen your skin was already an unnaturally pale, ashen color, a sheen of sweat over your whole body.

“No,” he’d whispered, shaking his head, as if that would magically give him more time to save you. “No, no no no.”

You’d only smiled at him, though your eyes were already starting to go a little unfocused. “It’s too late, my love.” Your hands had tangled in the front of his tunic, the soft blue fabric crumpling so easily between your fingers. “But this isn’t such a bad place to die, is it? I’m with you, and the flowers are blooming, and the sun is shining.” With every word, you’d had to lean more and more of your weight into him, your legs losing strength by the second.

“Let’s just sit together for a moment, my love, and enjoy the breeze. I don’t want to be scared when I go.”

The words had nearly shattered Satoru, but he had nodded, easing both of you down to lay amongst the flowers, cradling you close to himself the whole time. He’d stared down at you without blinking, unwilling to miss a single heartbeat of the time he had left with you; the fact that you had looked up at him, too, was both a blessing and a curse.

“Don’t go,” he’d pleaded, throat tight with the tears he was fighting back. “I don’t want you to go. I love you.”

“I know,” you’d whispered back. “I don’t want to go, either. I love you, Satoru, and I wish we had more time, but we don’t.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No,” you’d agreed, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “It’s not fair. But neither is life. And I’m happy to have spent as much of mine with you as I got to.”

Words had failed him then, and he’d leaned down to press one last kiss to your lips, knowing deep down that this would be his last chance. And he had been right; you’d managed to return his kiss for a moment, before going completely still in his arms.

Satoru had stayed in that field with you and wept for hours after the warmth left your body, only forcing himself to stand and take both of you back to town when it began to grow dark and a chill drifted in on the breeze you had been so eager to feel in your last moments.

And so, he had carried you home, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying, but his face otherwise blank, too numb to feel even grief at that moment. No one that saw him had tried to stop him, the sight of the typically lively musician so hollow, so quiet, had left everyone shaken.

The days after your death all blurred together; the only one that stuck out significantly from the others was the day of your funeral, because it was the only time he’d cleaned himself up and left the house, and even that was because Satoru knew he was expected to be there, the grieving husband to round out the picture of a Perfect Funeral. It had made him sick, and he’d excused himself as quickly as possible. 

He spent much of his time crying, or staring at the wall, or ceiling, replaying that last afternoon with you, obsessing over how he could have done things differently, how he could have saved you, even if he knew logically it was pointless; what was done could not be undone, especially not death. 

…Could it?

Once Satoru had the thought, he could not bring himself to abandon it, so he began instead to meticulously detail his plan. 

The days were already growing colder, which meant that Lady Persephone had returned to her husband’s realm of the Underworld; perhaps he would be able to use that to his advantage. 

Satoru had a purpose again, something to get him out of bed and moving; he had a goal to achieve, and no earthly force would stop him. He spent days polishing and tuning his instruments, and days longer composing and perfecting a song to play for the King and Queen of the Underworld; if he was going to convince the keepers of the dead to release one of their charges, everything needed to be perfect.

He was vaguely aware that a couple people – Suguru and Shoko, perhaps? Anything outside of his task was fuzzy at best – came to check on him occasionally, just as they had before he had manically begun to prepare to do the impossible. If they tried to talk him out of it, he can’t remember; even if they had tried, it wouldn’t have worked. His sole focus was on getting you back, and nothing would stand in his way.

By the time Satoru felt he had done everything he could to prepare for his journey, almost two weeks had passed since you’d died in his arms.

Your husband dressed warmly, both because he was unsure what to expect in the Underworld and because having your scarf wrapped around his neck gave him confidence that his plan would work; how could it not, when wearing the scarf wreathed him in your scent, as if you were already back with him again?

The sun was barely up when Satoru left your home, his lyre wrapped carefully in muslin and tucked into his bag. He knew the entrance to the Underworld was close enough to walk, but he didn’t know how long it would take him to get there, and he didn’t want to waste any time at all. Though he had left so early in the morning, there were still a few townspeople that saw him, asked him where he was going, but he ignored them all; conversation would only delay his journey, and he wouldn’t have that.

The musician made good time, all things considered, reaching the entrance to the Underworld about an hour past midday. He paused for a moment, took a deep breath to steel himself, then stepped forwards into the darkness.

He had no torch to light his way, but the path beneath his feet seemed to glow on its own, as if guiding him along; as if the Lord and Lady were expecting and didn’t want to be kept waiting because the foolish mortal lost his way. So, seeing no other option, he followed the soft, almost foggy glow as it led him deeper and deeper into the earth and – hopefully – to the throne room of Hades and Persephone. 

Time didn’t quite feel the same below the surface – it felt thicker, somehow, and heavier, catching on his clothes and sticking to his skin like honey – which meant he had no idea how long he’d been walking. The only thing that kept him from panicking was the faintest scent of pomegranates, coming from the same direction the path seemed to lead.

Eventually, Satoru did reach the throne room, though he couldn’t have recalled what it looked like later if his life depended on it. For as much as he looked around, the whole room could have been made of diamonds and liquid gold could have rained from the ceiling; none of that mattered to him, because it had nothing to do with you. His gaze went straight to the couple in their thrones, and he fought to keep his nerves under control; now was not the moment to get stage fright for the first time in his life. 

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing so low he felt the way his hair shifted to cooperate with gravity, the dusty purple of his undercut no longer hidden beneath the pale strands of his frosty hair, so white it practically glowed in the dusk of the throne room. 

“What brings you to my realm, mortal?” Hades asked, his expression impassive, though his eyes simmered with something dangerous. 

“I have come to play you a song,” Satoru answered simply, standing from his bow and removing his lyre from his bag, unwrapping the fabric from around it with great care. He adjusted his hold on the instrument until it sat nestled in his arms in the best position for him to play, then lifted his gaze back to the gods. “If it pleases my Lord and her Ladyship, of course.”

This was the one catch in his plan: if he was denied permission to play, he had no chance of returning home with you at his side.

“Oh, please?” Persephone turned to face her husband, a pleading expression on her face. “Let him play, my love. We never have mortal visitors, much less artists, and I want to hear what he’s prepared for us!”

The King of the Dead hesitated for a few moments, staring at his wife, but Satoru caught the way his smoldering eyes softened, the way the hard lines of his mouth eased, and the musician knew he would be allowed to play.

“My wife wishes to hear you play,” the god said, turning back to the man before him. “I hope you don’t disappoint her with your skills.”

With another, smaller bow, Satoru began to play, and soon thereafter began to sing. He sang about you: all the ways you loved him, and all the ways he loved you in return. He sang of his life before he met you: how he had played around, led people along and broken their hearts with his carelessness, simply because he was bored. He sang of your lives after you’d met: how you had brightened his mornings and sweetened his days and warmed his nights; how you had planned a future together you had never gotten to see. The harmonies from his lyre blended with the melodies of his voice, painting the image of you so vividly Satoru swore he could see your shape in front of him again.

It wasn’t until he finished his song that he realized he could see you there in front of him, though your form wavered around the edges, like you were a little less than solid. But you were there, and you were smiling, and he felt like falling to his knees and crawling to you right then and there; the only thing that stopped him was realizing that both Hades and Persephone were openly weeping.

He, Gojo Satoru, had brought gods to tears with his music, and with his love for you.

Emboldened by seeing your face again, Satoru spoke. “Please,” he begged, his voice eggshell-thin, cracking under the stress of his request. “Please don’t make me return home without my love. I cannot bear to make the journey alone again.”

At first he received only silence in response, and though he was not a patient man by nature, he forced himself to wait until he was spoken to, not wanting to risk upsetting the gods before him.

“Once a soul has entered the Underworld, it cannot be allowed to leave again,” Hades responded once he had composed himself, which felt like years after Satoru had made his plea. “I am very sorry.”

The musician felt his heart sink at the denial, and he began to consider begging to be allowed to stay, instead, if he couldn’t bring you back with him.

“Oh, please, my love,” Persephone cried, messily wiping the tears from her eyes as she gazed at her husband. “You let me go home again when my mother begged for my return. Why can’t you grant him this same mercy?”

“Because order must be maintained,” the Lord of the Underworld answered. “Rules must be followed, you know this. Your own return home has its own rules, after all.”

“Then give me rules I must abide by. I swear I will follow them as faithfully as possible.” Though he knew interrupting a conversation between gods could be dangerous, Satoru simply could not stop the words from tumbling from his lips.

“Please.” The goddess’s voice was petal-soft, a warm, hopefully breeze cutting through the chill of the Underworld. 

The silence was heavy, crushing the air out of every part of the room, suffocating the musician where he stood. Despite the pain, Satoru only had eyes for you, your warm gaze giving him the strength to push through, to wait for Hades’s answer before completely giving up hope.

“If I let you both return to the surface world,” the god’s voice, though low and rough, rang out clear. “You must follow one rule.”

“Only one?” It seemed too good to be true.

“It is a difficult one.”

“Anything,” Satoru rushed out. “I’ll do anything.”

“You will lead the two of you out of the Underworld, but until you both are on the surface again, out of my domain, you are not to turn around. I promise you will not be alone, that you will return with your love, but you must not turn around before you leave this place. If you turn around, you will have to leave here alone, and you will never be allowed to return until your own death.”

“If I’m not allowed to turn around, are we at least allowed to speak to each other?”

“Yes, you can converse on the journey. Now, take your lover and go. Once you leave the throne room you must keep your back turned at all times until you reach the surface.”

Bowing deeply, Satoru thanked the god profusely for several moments, then straightened and stepped forward, reaching out and taking your hands, helping you from where you sat on the floor of the throne room.

“Let’s go home,” you said, smiling so sweetly at him it made his teeth ache. He nodded eagerly in agreement, taking just a moment longer to take in your features before guiding you to the entrance of the throne room.

“Are you ready?” he asks, turning to you one last time as the two of you stand in the threshold. “I’m not sure how long the journey back is, and if you grow tired we can’t stop.”

“I’m ready when you are,” was your answer, giving his hand a light squeeze to show you meant the words. 

Satoru nodded back, once again pausing to admire your face, your smile, everything about you, before turning away, still holding your hand as he stepped out of the throne room and began the trek back to the surface, back home.

He was silent for a bit at first, feeling your hand in his enough to assure him you were there, but eventually both his nerves and his natural chattiness got the better of him. He said almost every thought that came to his mind, though he tried to make sure to ask as many questions as possible, eager to hear your answers, your sweet voice a soothing balm to his raw and frayed nerves. 

The journey felt shorter this time around, though whether that was because he was retracing his footsteps, or some other strange property of time in the Underworld, Satoru couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t going to complain about it, either, because not turning to look at you was proving much more difficult than he had thought when he was first given the rule.

When he finally saw the entrance to the surface, sunlight still visible on the horizon, a beaming grin broke out across his face. “We’re nearly there,” he told you. “See? We’ve nearly made it.” Unable to help himself, he picked up his pace, still pulling you along behind him. 

He didn’t notice your hand slipping from his own as he closed the last few paces to the entrance.

His joy was palpable as he practically leapt through the gates, back onto the surface, into the grass that waited for him as the sun began to set behind him.

“We did it!” Satoru cheered, spinning around to look at you. “Oh, my love, it feels so good to have you—” The sight of your sad smile had his gaze dropping to your feet.

You hadn’t yet crossed over the threshold.

And he had turned around and looked at you.

“No,” he begged, racing towards you, desperate for at least one last kiss, one last embrace, even if he could not keep you with him. “Please, my love, I’m so sorry.”

Before he could reach out and touch you, though, your shape had already begun to waver, rippling like the surface of a pool disturbed by the wind. You only shook your head, your smile never leaving your lips. “It’s okay,” you assured him. “I love you. I’ll see you again someday. Live well for me, okay?”

“I-I’ll try,” he choked out, tears thick in his voice even before they spilled from his eyes, though there was no stopping them as your form wavered more, then faded fully from sight.

He fell to his knees and wept, loud, heaving sobs, gripping handfuls of grass as he pressed his forehead to the ground, forced to mourn you a second time.

ok so this was baby's first sad ending/hurt no comfort so pls don't come for me if it was bad i'm so sorry idk how to do this i don't like sad endings but this is my favorite myth i couldn't bring myself to change the ending

tagging: @kentopedia @kentohours @mitsuristoleme

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

color up my skies – bob floyd x fem!reader

Bob Floyd is always beautiful. But there’s something about the way the sunset makes his skin glow and the way that Montana drawl makes your toes curl that means you need to have him … even if you’re on the side of the road.

a/n: finally my entry for IBFFM is complete! This is the first fic I have actually written in months and it feels fitting that it would be for Bob, who stole my heart and introduced me to the TGM fandom. I love it here, y’all. I hope you enjoy my offering.

warnings: smut (18+ only) oral (m receiving), fingering, grinding, unprotected piv (in my mind she’s on bc), praise and breeding kink if you squint, truck sex so kind of public?

tagging @attapullman as a thank you for founding the hottest holiday ever 😉 and a h/t to @withahappyrefrain whose post about bob babbling when he gets close rewired something in my brain

Bob Floyd was always beautiful.

You could list a million instances when you felt stunned by him — when he was bobbing his head along to the music at the Hard Deck, observing his fellow Daggers; rumpled and bleary-eyed in the morning, waiting for his ancient coffee maker to hurry up; standing on your front porch and staring at you in awe, despite the fact that you’ve been together for over a year; flushed and panting with fogged up glasses as he lifts his head up from between your thighs — and still think of more.

But right now, with the pink and orange rays of the fading sunlight illuminating his beautiful cheekbones, the wind ruffling the longer bits of hair that peek out from his beat-up ball cap and those beautiful dimples peeking out, Bob Floyd is downright breathtaking.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the WSO asks, taking a sip from the bottle of soda in his hand. He grins softly as he looks over at you, reclined back on your elbows in the bed of his beloved truck. “You’ve been quiet for a while over there.”

You bite your lip, face heating up a bit as you confess, “You’re just so gorgeous, Bobby.” The tips of his ears turn pink at the praise and he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair before replacing it.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you, darlin’,” he drawls, his accent stronger than ever thanks to the week you two have spent back in his home town.

You had been a little nervous when Bob asked you to come with him on a trip back to Montana after the birth of his nephew. Meeting each others’ parents during their brief trips to San Diego was one thing, but spending two and a half weeks in his childhood home? There were so many ways that could test your relationship.

But eight days into your trip, you were getting to know a whole different side of your beautiful Bob.

“I mean it. Montana looks good on you,” you tell him, reaching out to caress his face with your hand. “I like this whole ‘country boy’ vibe you have going on.”

Bob chuckles, warm and deep, as he gently turns his cheek into your palm. Your thumb gently rubs over one of his dimples, a sign that he’s relaxed and happy. “If I had known that taking you to watch the sunset in my truck would earn me all of these compliments, I woulda done it a lot sooner,” he murmurs.

“Guess you should’ve. Maybe you could have wooed me properly.”

You’re teasing of course; Bob is a complete romantic, surprising you with flowers and picnics on the beach and candlelit dinners at home. “Was this how you impressed all the girls in high school? You’d take them for a ride in your truck?”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and kisses your knuckles before gently entwining your hands together and lowering them to his lap.

“I think you’re overestimating how many girls were interested in me back then,” Bob laughs. You roll your eyes — you’ve seen pictures of your boyfriend in high school, all gangly limbs and round glasses, and you can imagine falling for him back then too. “‘Sides, they all grew up here too. These big fields aren’t all that impressive when you see them every day.”

He leans over and presses one, two kisses to your neck, right above your collar bone. A shiver runs through your body that has nothing to do with the early evening breeze.

“That’s why I saved it for my favorite city girl,” Bob adds, his lips still pressed against your skin. You can feel the smirk on his mouth and it makes you feel a little dizzy.

Bob loved to make fun of you for being a “city girl,” joking about how you were lulled to sleep at night by the sound of sirens instead of crickets and laughing at your refusal to learn how to drive until after college. (Okay, but Bobby, you don’t need a license when you have public transport!) He secretly loved it, though. It gave him a thrill to think about how your vastly different lives converged the day you met at Payback’s engagement party.

Bob’s not sure he believes in fate, but he’s endlessly thankful for whatever forces brought you into his life.

You giggle a little as he continues to kiss and nuzzle his face against your quickly warming skin, hand ghosting up his arm to wrap around Bob’s shoulders and pull him impossibly closer. “Bobby …” you breathe, feeling his teeth gently nip at your collarbone. “Bobby, behave. We’re out in the open.”

Your handsome Navy man just smiles and proceeds to work on sucking a bruise into your neck that will make it very obvious what the two of you got up to when you return to his parents’ house.

“Bob —“ you start again, giving the hair at the nape of his neck a quick tug to try and catch his attention, but all you get in response is a deep groan pressed into your skin. With a smirk of your own, you slide your free hand onto one of Bob’s denim-clad thighs, before giving his hair another, sharper tug. The WSO freezes in place.

“Now, darlin’ …” he drawls, his voice low and rumbly in a way that shoots directly into your core. Bob lifts his head up slowly, his eyes hooded and his beautiful pink mouth shiny and puffy from exertion. “If you want me to start behavin’, you’re gonna need to stop pulling on my hair like that.”

“How come?”

Bob’s big hands come up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes are locked on his. Your chest is heaving as you watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken, that beautiful sky blue turning to a seductive sapphire as his pupils dilate.

“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna have no choice but to take you right here,” Bob explains. “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my time with you out here. Make you fall apart the way I like …”

You let out an involuntary whimper at his words, your eyes fluttering closed as a rush of heat floods through you.

“Or is that something you want, huh?” Bob teases, his lips hovering over yours as he pulls you closer.

“Please, Bobby …” Your voice is breathy, more air than sound as you press your mouth against his. Bob’s thumbs gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours as you let out a soft groan. No matter how long it’s been, Bob always kisses you like he’s just gotten back from a months-long deployment and it makes your head swim with delight.

(It also happens to have been a few days since you’ve had the chance to properly make out, which does nothing to calm the desire pulsing in your veins.)

“Missed you,” you sigh in between kisses and you feel more than hear Bob’s chuckle.

“C’mere baby,” he mutters, sliding one hand under one of your thighs and tugging, manhandling you to straddle his lap with ease.

You let out a little squeak before settling down, pressing your crotch down to feel where he’s already growing hard in his worn-out jeans. Bob curses lowly and wraps those delicious arms around your waist to pull you closer, his hips pushing up into yours unconsciously as his mouth trails from yours to your neck, down, down until he’s peppering kisses across your chest and the top of your cleavage. You can feel the edges of his signature BCGs dig into your soft flesh as Bob works his mouth along the neckline of your sundress.

“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you look in this dress?” Bob asks after running his teeth lightly along your décolletage. “Drives me crazy when you wear it, just wanna pull it up and bend you over, doesn’t matter where we are.”

“Bobby!” you gasp, your nails scratching lightly up and down his biceps. Though he was a perfect gentleman on your first few dates — he even waited for you to kiss him first, blushing deeply when you tugged his face towards yours at the end of your third date — it didn’t take long for Bob to learn how much you liked it when he voiced all of the dirty thoughts running through his head.

It still takes you by surprise sometimes, the way your mild-mannered boyfriend can get you wet with just a few filthy comments.

And fuck are you already wet, rolling your hips against Bob’s as his talented fingers slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he can have better access to your chest. “Need you, need you so bad,” you keen, arching your back to push your breasts closer to your boyfriend’s mouth. “Bobby, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, pulling back from your chest with a luck of reluctance obvious on his beautiful face. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he adds, stilling your hips in his lap. You only realize you let out a whine because of the way he’s rubbing his big hands up and down your sides, trying to soothe you. “Just wanna get you somewhere a little more private. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

You nod almost frantically, your bottom lip between your teeth to try and hold back your moans. Letting out a deep breath, you slide off Bob’s lap and hop down out of the truck bed, your thighs squeezing together when you watch the way his biceps flex as he lifts the tailgate back into place after following.

He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, practically running around to the front of the truck and yanking the door open. Bob holds back a moment, waiting for you to climb in, but instead, you turn him by his hips and push him back into the cab so that he’s sprawled across the bench seat.

“‘M I not moving fast enough for you?” he asks with a laugh, planting one leg on the floor of the car and swinging the other up onto the creaky leather as he slides towards the driver’s side.

In response, you simply grin, before climbing in after him and pulling the door closed behind you.

But instead of laying yourself on top of Bob — which he’s clearly expecting you to do, the way his arms are hanging open to make room for you — you crouch down in the footwell and reach for his belt.

“Wait, baby, you don’t have to —“ he starts, before cutting himself off with a jolt when you cup his blue through the front of his pants.

“I want to,” you insist, fingers quickly working to open his belt and his jeans. “Want you. Want you so bad, Bobby. Next time we’re not staying at your parents’ house. I can’t go this long without touching you, it’s all I can think about.”

Bob tosses his head back with a moan, his hips lifting up as he helps you tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his hard cock. It slaps up against the bottom of his stomach, flushed and already wet at the tip, twitching slightly when you reach out to wrap your hand around the base. You wait a beat for him to lock eyes with you before you lean in and wrap your mouth around the tip, swirling your tongue around it to gather up the bit of precome pooling there.

“Oh, darlin’,” Bob practically growls, the deep timbre of his voice making you moan as you start to bob your head up and down. “Such a perfect fuckin’ mouth. You’re so good to me, baby. So g-good.”

You pull off and give him a long lick from base to tip before attempting to swallow down as much as you can at once. It took a while for you to be able to deep throat Bob like this — he’s so much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before, thick and long and just slightly curved in a way that makes you feel so deliciously full — but Bob was patient and understanding and now you like to show off for him whenever you can.

You pull off to catch your breath, a thin line of spit connecting your mouth to him, before leaning back in working your mouth down to his base, his public hair tickling your nose. You swallow around him and the feeling of your throat closing around his cock makes Bob jump and swear, a fist coming up to hit the roof. The quick buck of his hips makes you cough and sputter and he lifts your head off of him for a second to check in.

“Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that, felt so damn good I lost my mind for a second,” he rambles, chuckling softly, his thumb rubbing at the corner of your smiling mouth. “You okay there?”

Instead of replying, you just giggle and nod, nipping at the tip of Bob’s thumb before you get back to what you were doing, sucking and licking at his cock while stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bob’s stomach flex as he pants and moans above you, words of praise falling from his lips in a dazed ramble.

“So beautiful, you’re so beautiful like this, my gorgeous girl.” A loud moan interrupts his declarations, those big hands sweeping up to hold your hair back out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swallow him down again. “Yeahhhhh, just like that baby, good girl. God, you’re so good to me, love it when I can feel myself all the way in your throat, shit.”

You pull off to breathe before swallowing him down again, fingers cupping and caressing his balls as you hold him there, tip brushing against the back of your throat, enjoying the way Bob’s thighs shake and his hands tighten in your hair.

You repeat the action a few more times, tears staring to run down your cheeks before he suddenly tugs your head up and away from his cock.

“Don’t wan’ come down your throat, darlin’, need to come inside you,” he rambles, petting the sides of you head absently, his eyes fixed on your chest as the straps of your dress slide further down and reveal the soft satin of your bra underneath. “Please, baby, please let me fuck you, gonna fuck you so full ...”

The edge of desperation in Bob’s voice makes you surge up from the floor, climbing into his lap as you kiss him, all tongue and teeth and desire.

“Yes, Bobby, yeah,” you say against his mouth, tugging at his white tee shirt until he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his broad, defined chest makes you rub yourself against him, sticky wet panties brushing against the hot ridge of his hard cock.

As you roll your hips again and again, the lace catches against your clit, making you moan loudly as Bob lifts his hips into yours.

“You’re so wet, darlin,’ I can feel it, I can feel how you soaked right through your panties,” he says, eyes closing briefly at the sensation, before they fly open and he finishes tugging the bodice of your dress down to your waist. He gives your breasts a quick squeeze, letting out a soft grunt before teasing and pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric. “Such a sweet girl, my good girl, and you get so fuckin’ wet just from sucking my cock.”

“Bobby, please, fuck me,” you moan, hips working more frantically against his, chasing your high as he whispers naughty encouragement to you.

“I will, baby, I will,” he promises, voice soothing despite his movements bringing your closer and closer to the edge. He sits up properly in the seat, grabbing you by the hips and moving your body against his. “Wanna see you come like this first, watch you fall apart in my lap, love it when you get desperate like this.”

Bob drops one hand to your lap, working it up the skirt of your dress to meet your soaked panties.

With a low curse, he slides his hand into them, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing in steady circles while you throw your head back and moan at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Fuck, Bob, right t-there, I’m so close baby,” you babble, hips continuing to swivel as you grind against his hand, his cock, edging further and further to your peak, nails scraping down Bob’s torso. His murmured little “c’mon, come for me,” helps push you over with a shout, your body shaking and trembling in his arms as he works you through your orgasm.

“Juuuust like that, so gorgeous baby, so good for me,” Bob says, his thumb slowing down against your clit as you come down from your high. When your eyes flutter open and you take him in, cheeks flushed and glasses slightly fogged from all of the exertion. He barely gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls your panties to the side and begins sliding his cock into you.

You give a shout that turns into a high-pitched whine as you feel the head of him press inside you. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” you babble, walls still fluttering a little as you go to slide all the way down his cock, needing him inside you as quickly as possible.

“Uh-uh, darlin’, slow,” he chastises, grabbing your hips to still you about halfway down his cock. “Don’t wanna hurt you, just take your time, you’re doing so well for me.”

It feels like time slows down as the two of you work to get every inch of him inside, tiny little movements of your hips helping you to take more and more until your hips meet.

You take a moment to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the side before snatching Bob’s hat and doing the same. He doesn’t even seem to register your decision to rid him of his hat, already fixated on your bare chest, moving to suck one of your peaked nipples into his mouth with a moan.

“Love these tits, baby,” he mutters against you and you card your fingers through his hair in response. It’s a little sweaty from hiding under his hat in the heat all day, but you can’t get enough of the way Bob groans and whines as you tug at the longer strands and scratch your nails against his scalp. “Gotta move, darlin’, gotta fuck you now.”

“Yes, yes,” you say, lifting your hips until just his the tip of his cock is still inside you and sliding back down.

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he encourages, words already beginning to slur together as he gets drunk on pleasure. You repeat the motion and he smirks, before tugging one nipple between his teeth to make you keen. “You wanna show me you know how to ride? Huh? C’mon city girl, ride me.”

Bob’s voice gets a little breathy towards the end of his taunt and your moans get louder as you feel him press against that spongey spot within you on each downstroke.

For a while, the only thing you can hear is the sound of skin slapping together, punctuated by groans and growls and the occasional whine when Bob pinches or tugs at your nipples with his teeth, the tiny spark of pain making the pleasure more delicious. He’s so tuned into you that he can sense that you’re getting tired almost before you do, wrapping his arms around you and adjusting so that both of his feet are planted against the floor of his truck and he begins thrusting up into you, giving your burning thighs a break.

His hips move quickly, punching little “unhs” out of you with each thrust, tip bullying your g-spot relentlessly. Your walls begin to tighten and flutter against him and Bob frees a hand to rub two fingers against your clit in a slow, steady motion that contrasts beautifully with the speed of his thrusts.

“Oh my g— fuck, Bob, feels so good. You feel so g-good, love you so much.” You’re not even aware of what you’re saying, words spilling out of your mouth mindlessly as you let Bob bring you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Need to come, Bobby, I’m so close, wanna come for you, please, please,” you beg, peppering kisses all over his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere your lips can reach.

Bob’s fingers speed up, his mouth dropping open to let out a low groan, his face flushed and eyes glassy.

“Yes, good girl, just like that,” he encourages, the bottom of his glasses starting to fog up as a result of his exertion. You moan loudly at the sight, tossing your head back and losing yourself in the feeling of Bob’s talented fingers, his cock, the tension inside you building, building. “Come for me, beautiful, please. Let go for me, so perfect, so good to me, can’t believe you’re mine – shit.”

Your boyfriend’s praise tips you over the edge and you feel that band inside you snap, your vision whiting out at the edges as your walls clamp down on Bob’s cock. You’re shaking and moaning in his arms, gushing around him as he murmurs and works you through it. “Love you, love you, yes, yes, love you baby,” pressed into your clammy skin as Bob can’t bring himself to lift his mouth up from your chest, shoulders, neck long enough to speak clearly.

You come down from your high with one last shudder, walls fluttering around him and making him moan against you. You lean back to take a look at his face - pink and sweaty, a smile on his puffy lips and looking more beautiful than you think you’ve ever seen him before - before cupping it between your hands and kissing him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you just sit there and kiss, could be seconds, could be minutes, but you’re too lost in each other to care.

Eventually, though, your hips start rolling again in his lap, causing Bob to let out little whimpers and moans against your mouth. He lets his teeth tug at your bottom lip before pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “God, you feel so good, honey,” he says, eyes locked on yours as you begin to ride him properly once again.

“Wanna make you feel good, Bobby,” you coo, one hand threading through his damp hair and the other caressing his jaw.

“You a-always do, so good to me, so good baby,” he rambles, breath hitching every time you squeeze around him. “Don’t know how I g-got so l-lucky, can’t believe you’re mine, dar-darlin’.”

Bob’s hips begin thrusting up jerkily to meet yours, his eyes starting to get glassy behind those big frames. Knowing he’s getting close, you gently tug on his hair, short little bursts of pain that drive him crazy and get his hips moving faster.

“Jusss like that, god, you’re taking me so well, doing so well,” he says before grabbing onto your hips and holding you in place and thrusting up into you almost frantically. “Wanna be with you all the t-time, wanna fuck you every day, every night, keep you - yeah, do that again baby, pull my hair like that - keep you full of me.”

You moan at the idea, loving the thought of Bob just taking you whenever he pleases.

“Yeah? T-that what you want? I’ll do it for you, do any-anything for you, gonna fuck a baby into you one d-day and make our own little fa - I’m so close - family,” he cuts himself off with a few more high-pitched moans, eyes slipping shut as if he’s picturing your future together.

The idea of being with Bob, having kids with him, settling down and spending your lives together, hits you like a freight train. You don’t think anything has ever sounded better to you.

“Want that, Bobby, want to be with you forever, wanna have your babies, please, Bobby,” you babble, hands running all over his hands and shoulders to pull him closer, hold him tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, anything you want darlin’, oh my -“ he comes with a shout, eyes squeezing tightly shut and fingers holding onto you so hard that you will probably have bruises on your hips later. (You hope you do, you always wear all of the marks Bob leaves on you with pride.) You feel him twitch inside you, liquid heat making you feel impossibly full. He gives one, two little half thrusts as he finishes, before loosening his grip on your skin.

Fully panting, Bob takes a moment try and catch his breath before opening his eyes slowly. The look of pure adoration on his face almost knocks the wind out of you.

“Well,” he starts with a chuckle, pressing a few chaste kisses to your shoulder. “Nothing like that ever happened to me in high school.”

You bark out a surprised laugh, giggles spilling out as you watch Bob grin and then duck his head. The sun has almost fully set by now, pinks and oranges fading into purples and blues as the two of you laugh in Bob’s truck, faces flushed and glowing in the dusk.

In a minute, Bob will clean you up and help you get dressed, gently kissing you with each item of clothing you wrangle back on.

He’ll give you a look of confusion and then surprise when he realizes that his hat is somewhere underneath the seat and he’ll run his fingers through your hair to help you tame it before settling into the driver’s seat. He’ll rest one of those big, warm palms on your thigh as he drives you both back home, looking over to smile at you at every stop sign and red light.

You’ll both giggle, cheeks warm and eyes downcast when Bob’s mom asks about your afternoon over dinner and he’ll mentally start picking out engagement rings when he watches you bounce his nephew on your knee when the family gathers in the living room afterward.

Later that night, after you’ve both shyly admitted that you were serious about the promises you made to one another in the truck, Bob will smile as he watches the moonlight illuminate your sleeping face.

But for now, you two just enjoy this perfect moment, wrapped in one another as the crickets begin chirping outside. And neither you nor Bob think you’ve ever seen the other look more beautiful.

.

(Are we still doing readmore sacrifices?) Either way, please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!

[blueberrymocha]

main 4 summer hc

gon

✰ summer’s easily his favorite season

✰ spends all day outside

✰ if you’re his s/o, he’ll be dragging you along too

✰ loves to take you to the beaches on whale island

✰ you’ll build sandcastles, swim, play beach ball volleyball, etc

✰ which by the way, i see him as competitive

✰ if you keep losing terribly, he’ll probably let you win a couple times though

✰ he gives the vibe of shaking his hair all around after swimming; getting you wet

✰ he’ll laugh and apologize before offering to cook dinner

killua

✰ during the summer, he loves to go swimming

✰ i can see him taking you to a water park

✰ will definitely comment on your swimsuit and how you look in it

✰ nothing bad, just some teasing

✰ if you’re scared of rides, this might not be very fun for you

✰ because he’s gonna make you go on them with him anyway

✰ would find it funny if you started screaming

✰ you guys buy snow cones at the park

✰ someone bumps into him and makes him spill his

✰ you swear he looked like he was about to kill someone

✰ he gets over it when you share yours

kurapika

✰ does not like summer

✰ it’s extra hot out and you know he’s not going to have fun anyway, right?

✰ he’d rather just stay inside

✰ but you’ll force him to go out and enjoy the good weather

✰ with his limited free time, you’d probably just go on walks or something

✰ but if he happens to have more time, you might convince him to go with you to a carnival

✰ i heavily doubt he’s been on any rides before today

✰ therefore when he goes on a rollercoaster for the first time

✰ it’s a lot worse than he was expecting

✰ i won’t say he’s scared of them, but would probably not go on any more with you unless you really begged

✰ instead, he’d buy you cotton candy

✰ or honestly whatever you wanted, food, drinks, snacks, merchandise

✰ he has money to spend, and it distracts you from the rollercoasters at least

✰ one thing he does enjoy is the ferris wheel

✰ completely delivers on the romantic wattpad experience™

✰ the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence, watching all the tiny people below you

✰ once you get to the top, would kiss your lips and murmur something in his first language

✰ won’t elaborate on what he said, but safe to say your day out was a success

✰ he might even go out with you a little more often after

leorio

✰ another summer enthusiast

✰ for some reason, he’s like 80% less irritable during these few months

✰ would have a cookout/barbecue

✰ now i fully subscribe to the idea that this man can grill

✰ ideally, he’d invite over the whole gang

✰ if they couldn’t make it, he’s fine to have a mini party with you

✰ he covers the food, and leaves you with desserts and drinks

✰ let’s be real those drinks will all be beer or alcohol…

✰ if you like to bake, he’d be all over you

✰ tying back your hair, peeking over your shoulder with his arms around your waist, etc

✰ if you don’t like to bake, the two of you go on a little grocery run together

✰ you’ll have an argument in the bakery section

✰ he wants to buy brownies, you want strawberry shortcake

✰ the staff are concerned at first, but when they listen in on the conversation and hear dessert being thrown around,

✰ they’re almost tempted to kick you out✰ eventually, he gives in and buys both of what you wanted

✰ then when you get home you’ll suddenly want the brownies or he’ll be craving shortcake

✰ so maybe it was for the best

[writingsbychlo]

okay but the world needs a how would the 🐍 boys react to a taylor swift concert (and if you categorized them by album i would also not be mad)

😘💋

for you, my love? anything 😌

slytherin boys + taylor swift concert/albums

draco: draco is impartial. it’s not his typical music taste but he will hum to songs when you play them, he knows you like them. he hires someone to make sure he gets really good tickets and says you can take anyone when he surprises you with them. when you say you want to take him, he fucking loves it. he doesn’t show it, but knowing you’d share something so special with him, it makes him so happy. would wear a basic fit, lets be real. would pay someone to custom make your outfit for your favourite album, though. also, he bought tickets to a tour spot of a place you’ve always wanted to visit and he makes it a whole vacation. splashes cash for extra packages. rich boy vibes. he’d never admit it to anyone but he has listened to All Too Well (10 min version) when he’s in his emo moments.

he’s giving Red, though, and would make the effort to sing along to any songs he knows enough of just to see you smile. like tell me he isn’t giving the youthful innocence of 22 but also I Knew You Were Trouble, like???

mattheo: has an alarm set for tickets and tries to get them so eagerly with you. again, not his usual music taste, but his has been known to scream-sing Shake It Off when drunk. would wear a toned down outfit to match whatever you’re wearing and would absolutely wear any bracelets you make him. holds all your belongings so you don’t have to worry about anything. holds your hand the whole time and sings with you. you’d stay in a fancy hotel overnight the day before and after, he wanted to make it special. buys matching tour hoodies with you.

he’s giving Fearless, like lets be real, The Way I Loved You was written for him. he isn’t ashamed to admit he loves that album, though. that dedication of slightly toxic but mostly just obsessed love, sweet and adorable first love feelings, y’know?

theo: asked if you’d seen there was a tour coming up and chuckled at your excitement when you screamed yes. gets tickets when you don’t manage to and makes a joke like ‘how many boyfriend points did this just earn me?’ spoiler: it’s a lot. wears all your bracelets that you make on one arm and helps you make trades with people. researches the set list to make sure he knows all the lyrics to any possible songs that might play so he can sing with you, but already knows quite a lot. not ashamed to listen to her if he’s with you or missing you. buys you any merch you want, has so many bags to be taken home.

his album is Folklore, just because I think the hazy indie suit him. august is friends-to-lovers with him after spending the summer with his family in italy. change my mind, you can’t.

enzo: baby boy goes all out for this. he’s so lover coded, but he knows all the albums very well. listens to her music with or without you and is proud of it. you sat together to book tickets and try to double your chances and it worked. not only wears and trades bracelets but makes them with you, makes his own set to swap with people too. looks for celebrities and gets to excited when he spots them. he’s the kinda guy to propose during Love Story. matching outfits, matching merch. you guys both have lost your voices the next day and he can’t stop grinning about it. is convinced taylor made eye contact with him. would wear a custom outfit with you, too.

his album is Lover. no doubt. he’s a cutie pie and he’s so pastel-sunshine-sparkles-love. Paper Rings? he belts that. You Need To Calm Down? he bodies it with so much sass just to see you giggle. London Boy? I don’t even need to say.

tom: hears you didn’t get tickets and starts pulling strings to get them for you because you were sad. tries to be casual and just leave them on your desk one day, but can’t help his smile when you burst into his dorm at 11pm and kiss him stupid for it. is willing to let you pick his outfit as long as you make it ‘normal’. you guys match but in a subtle way. like mattheo, books a hotel for before and after, and also will hold your things. doesn’t sing along but he’s not a buzzkill, y’know? stands with his arms wrapped around your waist the whole time, sways slightly to the music for you. he will spin you occasionally. so defensive when you’re looking at merch, growls at someone to fuck off while they still have teeth for telling you to hurry up and pick. gets a hoodie when you tell him it would look good on him and actually wears it for you. also buys the special packages like sound checks etc.

Reputation. you’re gonna look me in my eyes and tell me Look What You Made Me Do isn’t his anthem? if he had a gun to his head he would name that as his favourite song.

bonus for you bc we’re talking abt him right now: all I’m gonna say is reggie + enchanted. that’s it, that’s all.

[promptthebear]

Kissmas Day 9

Prompt: Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader

CW: Female reader, lots and lots of swearing (It's Sandor c'mon now), reader is pregnant, some mentions of canon typical violence. If i forget anything please let me know!

A/N: Hello! This is a little different from the last few fics I wrote. I was going for like something cozy? So the pacing is a little slower and it's sort of a "not much happens but there's vibes" kind of fic. Hopefully you all enjoy it. I just really wanted to give my boy a story where he's safe, well fed, well rested, and doesn't have shit trying to kill him for like five minutes.

It was still dark when Sandor awoke, and colder than a wight’s arse. He could see the earliest light of dawn, though, through a nearby window. Pale yellow rays were starting to kiss the tops of the large, gloomy pines that encircled your cottage, and he knew it would be several hours yet before the sun would provide any proper warmth.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, Sandor pushed back the furred hide that served as a blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He hissed when his feet touched the floor, the chill so fierce it bit at his soles, even through the two layers of woolen socks he wore. Everyone, from great Kings to common fools, knew that Winters in the North were bitterly cold. But it was one thing to hear the tavern stories and another thing all together when you were trying to live through it.

He wondered, as he tugged on his boots, why he didn’t make for the Free Cities and Dorne like the few remaining knights did when the whole world finally fell apart in flame and ruin. Yes, the stories of the fine wines and glimmering cities where even beggars could be Kings might have been exaggerated, but it couldn’t be any worse than here. At the very least, it might be nice to live somewhere your piss didn’t freeze midstream and your cock didn’t stick to your hand each time you used the privy.

Sandor turned the idea over in his mind, finding that its appeal grew with each passing moment. However, any thoughts of leaving vanished the instant he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of your face peeking out from under the edge of the blankets. Your expression was peaceful, almost serene.

He leaned over you, his hair falling around his cheeks like a curtain, and placed a quick kiss against your temple. You stirred slightly in response, your eyelashes fluttering as a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Whassamatter?”

Sandor chuckled and reached out to deliver a gentle pat to your side before answering.

“Nothing. Gonna go cut some firewood. I’ll be back before you’re up.”

You mumbled something in reply, too faint for him to make out, before sleep’s embrace claimed you once more. He chuckled again and fondly shook his head.

At one point, nobody wanted to spend a night in his bed, not even when he'd gone to a brothel. Those girls had been too frightened of his face to give him more than a few hours at most, leaving him to wake to a cold bed and empty purse the next morning.

You, on the other hand, were comforted enough by his presence to stay through the night. You even claimed you slept more soundly when he was with you. It had taken a while before Sandor believed you, but after over a year of waking with you warm and content beside him, he was starting to see that you’d been telling the truth.

The bedroom door squeaked as it opened, which made the large, shaggy dog the two of you kept leap to its feet and growl deep in its throat. Sandor shushed the animal, which immediately bounded over from its spot by the fireplace, tongue out and tail wagging at the sight of its master.

“Stupid mutt.” Sandor said, as he began to rumple and massage the dog’s ears. “Good thing you’re loyal, or else what use would you be?”

The dog, which you’d so cleverly called Nameless because Sandor had refused to give it one, eagerly leaned into his touch and gazed up at him in squinty eyed delight. You’d found the poor beast roughly around the same time Sandor had been able to walk again, where he’d been left to die in some abandoned crofter’s hut.

At first, Sandor had wanted nothing to do with the animal. As far as he was concerned, you didn’t need another mouth to feed, what with him still half crippled and you were only able to set the most basic of rabbit snares. There had barely been enough food for the two of you, let alone a walking gut disguised as a dog.

He’s a big, black dog you’d insisted on just like your crest. If that’s not a sign from the gods, I don’t know what is.

Bugger the gods had been Sandor’s reply, but in the end, he’d yielded, if only to have some peace from your griping. Since then, Nameless had followed Sandor around like a second shadow. He’d cursed the beast and the bitch that whelped him each time he got underfoot, but eventually this gave way to begrudging acceptance and finally a quiet sort of affection.

Whoever left Nameless behind had, whether they knew it or not, forfeited a skilled hunting dog. Despite his sweet nature with people, he could catch rabbits and squirrels as skillfully as any wolf, which kept you and Sandor well stocked with meat despite the North’s unforgiving climate.

Once again, Sandor found himself questioning why he’d chosen to live in the frozen arse end of the world as he tried to open the front door. A thick layer of ice had settled over the tiny cottage you called home, a parting gift from last night’s storm.

Despite ample shoving and force, the door was refusing to cooperate. With each attempt, the aged wood groaned and creaked as though in protest, but wouldn’t budge. Though he couldn’t see it, Sandor had a feeling the damn thing had frozen shut in its frame, which was a much more common occurrence than he would’ve liked it to be. With a muttered oath, he threw his shoulder against the wood, swearing louder at the shock of pain that came after.

A thin sweat had broken out on Sandor’s brow when he finally gave himself a moment to breathe, half slumped against the bastard door and wishing agonies upon whichever fool god made ice to begin with. He stole a glance over his shoulder, hoping the racket hadn’t woken you, and was greeted with the sight of Nameless. The dog was sitting a few feet behind him and watching the entire process as though it was a Mummer’s show Sandor was putting on especially for him.

“Are you just going to look? Or are you going to be helpful for once in your sorry life?”

By way of response, Nameless rose to his feet, stood for a moment, squinted at Sandor, and then let out a quick, loud sneeze that sent forth a spray of drool and dust motes into the chilled air. Satisfied, the dog sat down again with a bump, and stared at his master. He cocked his head to one side, and spread his mouth wide in a lolling, doggy grin, as if two of them were sharing some sort of secret joke.

Sandor couldn’t help but grin back, albeit a little lopsidedly, before returning to the problem of the door. Once upon a time, he could’ve split the bloody thing in two with the heel of his boot and a well-aimed kick, but he had been a different man then. The Hound, with all his strength and rage, had died with Gregor the day they both went over the falls. Now, all that remained was Sandor, who had to huff and puff and struggle with frozen doors just like anyone else.

When the door finally gave way, it did so with a mighty crack, which shattered the morning air in a flurry of loose snow that tumbled off the roof and bits of ice that shimmered like diamond shards as they fell.

Sandor stumbled outside, shoulder first since he was mid shove when the door decided to open. Instantly, he was blinded by the sheer, sterile whiteness of fresh snow and sunbeams that cut like yellow knives after the dimness of the cottage. For a moment, he had little choice but to wait and lean against the door frame while his vision cleared.

Despite the early hour, the woods were already awake and teeming with life. Around him, Sandor could hear all manner of birdsong, as well as the chattering of squirrels and the far off call of a solitary deer.

From behind the cottage came the sounds of the sheep, small, squat, shaggy creatures with more wool than brains between their ears. They bleated mournfully from inside their little shed, hoping it would get them fed all the sooner, but their cries stirred no pity in Sandor’s heart. He could hardly stand the sight of the fool things, with their empty eyes and the way they ran in panicked, useless circles every time they were frightened.

When you’d first asked Sandor why he hated the sheep so much, he told you it was because he had no patience for anything, man or beast, that was too stupid to know how stupid it actually was. You’d laughed at that, a bright, musical sound that made warmth bloom in Sandor’s chest, but you hadn’t left the matter alone like he’d hoped.

As far as you were concerned, there was no point in wasting time hating something so pathetic and harmless and so you persisted. If Sandor was stubborn, you were twice as much, pestering him with that unfaltering cheerfulness each time you went you to feed the damn things. Eventually, he relented, the name and reason tumbling from his lips like rain after a drought.

Mycha.

From the ashes of Sandor’s rage, shame had blossomed, and with it a thin, choking vine that clenched a little tighter around his heart each time he’d thought of the boy. He’d lived what felt like a thousand different lifetimes since that fateful day by the river, and no matter how much he’d drunk, fought or fucked, he couldn’t seem to shake that one particular ghost. It was as though a small part of Mycha had always been there, slowly poisoning what little shreds of goodness Sandor had managed to grasp hold of, and for a while, he supposed that was what he deserved. Until you came along.

You, who had dragged Sandor out from the water when he was little more than a half drowned corpse. You, who had set every broken bone, stitched every wound and fed him spoonfuls of broth even when he’d cursed you after each one. With your constant, stubborn, infuriating cheerfulness, you had talked Sandor into talking, smiled him into smiling, and somehow loved him into loving you back. You had become the sun that rose and set on each day of Sandor’s life. You were what got him up in the mornings and kept him working until dusk. The thought of losing you, or worse, having you cast him aside, scared him more than dragons, others, and his cunt brother ever had.

That was why, in the end, Sandor had chosen to tell you the truth. At least then you’d hear it from him, instead of whatever exaggerated horseshit the village gossips would invent. Ugly as it was, Sandor knew honesty would be his friend in this matter, and he’d had more than his fill of liars after spending so much time in service to the Lannisters.

And so you came to know the whole sordid tale, one dreary morning in the sheep shed. He spared no detail, no matter how gruesome it was or how poorly it reflected on his character. If you were going to keep loving him, it was best you knew the sort of man you’d chosen, lest the truth curdle what little affection he’d earned.

At first, Sandor wasn’t sure how you were going to take things. He half expected you to try to brain him with the bucket of sheep’s feed, then drive him off in a hail of shrieking and chunks of dung. Tears were also a likely possibility, though you didn’t really seem the type. But learning that the man who you’d let into your home and bed had the blood of an innocent child on his hands could make anyone behave strangely.

When he’d finally got up the courage to stop staring at his boots and look into your face, you, as always, surprised him. You were smiling at him, that same warm, gentle smile that Sandor remembered from the moment he’d woken up in your arms.

I know is what you’d said. I’ve always known, and I love you anyway.

You’d reached for him after, setting aside your bucket so you could bring your hand up and caress his scarred cheek. Sandor had leaned into your touch, like it was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart into a million pieces. Of course you’d known, who in all the Seven Kingdoms hadn’t heard the stories about King Joffery’s rabid dog and the things he’d done? He should’ve given you more credit.

From there, it had been easy enough to tell you why he hated those sheep. Their cries, the sheer terror in their eyes each time he approached? They reminded him too much of that boy, and regardless of how you felt about it, he was not entirely certain he’d ever be able to forget. It was one thing to have your forgiveness and another thing entirely to be able to forgive himself.

Give it time is what you’d told him And let me worry about the sheep. You’ve got enough to do around here, anyway.

The sound of Nameless’ barking is what suddenly tugged Sandor from his memories and back into the here and now. Somehow, the dog had managed to squeeze past him without Sandor noticing, and he was now diving face first through the fresh snow, on the hunt for grouse tracks and anything else that would provide a decent chase.

Sandor watched for a moment, unable to hide the smile playing about his lips. The sight of the big dog, now sporting a healthy dusting of snow across his shoulders and muzzle, was enough to brighten anyone’s mood. He supposed, after almost starving to death on his own, the idiot creature was simply happy to be alive long enough to see another day.

The two of them would go and check Sandor’s traps later. With any luck, they’d snag a rabbit or two that you could roast for supper and have plenty of bones left for Nameless to enjoy. But, in the meantime, you wouldn’t be cooking anything if there wasn’t any wood for the fire.

It hadn’t warmed up any by the time Sandor walked to the woodshed. The snows frozen crust crunched under his feet as he walked, while his breath floated away in thick, white clouds that dampened his beard. His axe, stuck blade down in the stump a few feet away from the woodshed, was a welcome sight.

It was by no means half the weapon his greatsword had been, but Sandor found comfort in the way its worn, wooden handle fit snugly into his grasp and in its blade that thirsted for pine sap instead of blood.

Before long, the sound of logs splitting filled the air, mingling with the soft creak of trees in the wind and an occasional bark from Nameless. Sandor quickly found his rhythm, letting the weight of the axe guide his arm on the downstroke and pushing aside each long with his other hand to be stacked in the shed later.

He went on like that for a while, cut, push, another log, and do it again. The repetition of the work was soothing, almost meditative. It brought a sense of peace to Sandor the way only busy hands could.

Cut, push, new log, do it again.

It was like the axe was an extension of his arm, with the beat of his heart matching each thud of the blade and his breath moving in time as the axe swung through the air. There was most likely going to be a fresh tree fall after last night’s winds, no doubt with plenty of new wood for Sandor to haul home. It probably wouldn’t hurt to bring a length of rope and the sledge when he went hunting with Nameless later. If they didn’t catch anything, at least they wouldn’t be coming home empty-handed.

The young pine he was currently working on was halfway gone by the time you’d made an appearance. Sandor hadn’t heard you at first, too absorbed in what he was doing. It was only after you’d said his name for the third time that he’d finally stopped and turned to look at you over his shoulder, squinting at you as though he wasn’t quite sure who you were or where he was.

“What are you doing out here?”

His tone, like everything about him, was gruff. You smiled at him all the same, knowing that for Sandor, gruffness and worry were often interchangeable.

“Came to check on you. You’ve been out here for hours.”

Sandor glanced upwards and was surprised to find the sun sitting squarely above his head. A sheen of sweat had also broken out over his arms and forehead, and he could feel where it was pooling in the hollows of his back. With a sigh, he set aside his axe and removed his heavy woolen cloak, before turning back towards you.

“Have you been asleep this whole time?”

The slight tilt of his chin in your direction indicated your odd choice of garments. Born to a wilding father and shepherd’s daughter, you always swore the North in your blood kept you from ever truly feeling cold. Still, a sleeping shift, boots, and knit shawl tossed hastily about your shoulders was a questionable choice in midwinter, even for a Northern girl.

You shook your head and gestured back towards the cottage where steam had fogged up the windows.

“I started the laundry, wanted to make use of the sunlight while we still have it. I figured it didn’t make much sense to change until my other clothes were dry, and then I could wash these next.”

Sandor listened to your explanation, his face unchanging save for an arched brow. When you finished, he raised his arm and pointed back at the cottage with a thick finger.

“You should be inside, you fool, woman. You’ll freeze your tits off out here.”

You laughed before wrapping your shawl a little tighter around your shoulders and closing the space between you and Sandor with a few steps.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. I’m a Northerner. I don’t get cold. We’re not as pampered as you Southern city types.”

Sandor grumbled softly and shook his head, something about “tongue lashing harpy bitch.” There was no venom behind his words, however, only affectionate resignation. Instinctively, he brought his hand to rest on the curve of your stomach, a protective gesture towards the child you’d been carrying for the last five months. You reached up for Sandor’s face, cupping the scarred side as you usually did against the palm of your hand.

Sandor’s eyes fluttered shut in response to the touch, and for a moment, years seemed to fall away from his expression. He turned his head slightly to the side and pressed a kiss against the skin of your wrist. You loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and content. It was like a glimpse into the past, when he was young and full of hope. However, his eyes opened all too quickly, and he was back to being the Sandor you knew. Older, grumpy, and entirely done with your nonsense.

“Inside. Or I’ll sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and bring you there myself”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he’d do no such thing, not while you were pregnant, anyway.

“Fine. But I want a kiss first.”

There was more grumbling, but Sandor did as you asked, catching your mouth against his while his hands snaked down to encircle your hips. You leaned into the kiss, pressing your body as close to his as you could get while still keeping your feet on the ground. His beard was coarse against your cheeks, and he smelled faintly of the woods and sweat. The heat of him seemed to envelope you, like a familiar blanket.

You stood like that for a while, the two of you bathed in morning sunshine and kissing as though you’d never get a chance to do it again. When Sandor tried to pull away, you chased him, closing the space between your mouths by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him downwards. This kiss was a little messier and rougher than the first, most likely due to Sandor’s surprise, but you didn’t mind. It was only when you nibbled at his bottom lip that he broke the kiss off in earnest, catching your two hands in one of his and trapping them against his chest.

“None of that. I told you, go inside.”

You stared up at Sandor and pulled your mouth into an exaggerated pout.

“One more? Please? And then I’ll go, I promise.”

Sandor swore softly under his breath and used his free hand to adjust the front of his trousers before leaning down to claim your mouth again. For a moment, it seemed as though you were going to get your way. Sandor had brought his other hand up to twine in your hair, which only served to deepen the kiss. You welcomed it eagerly, opening your lips and running your tongue against the seam of his mouth. He let out a groan in response, the hand that still held yours squeezing tight. You squirmed against him eagerly, trying to wrap one of your legs around his and haul yourself upwards, your hips seeking the friction they so desperately craved.

This, however, didn’t have the desired effect. Sandor began to laugh, and then placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back so you could no longer reclaim his mouth.

“I’m not a tree, you little minx, so stop trying to climb me. You said one more, you’ve had one more, and now you’re going to go inside or else.”

One look at Sandor’s face, and you knew there was no use in pushing your luck. With a long, suffering sigh, you stepped away, already mourning the absence of his mouth and hands on your body.

“Fine. But I better see you again before it gets dark. I’ll need to wash those clothes you’re wearing, and I’m not warming up your dinner twice.”

Sandor grunted, the noise vaguely affirmative enough that you took it as agreement. You turned to head back towards the cottage, only to stop mid step when you felt the familiar sting of an open hand strike your ass. You spun back around, your shawl spinning about your shoulders, and stared at Sandor, who grinned wolfishly back.

“That’s not fair!” you sputtered, your already pink cheeks flushing deeper.

“Nothing ever is,” came the reply.

You shook your head, turning once again to leave. Sandor let you do so without further torment, watching the way the sunlight made your hair glisten and the subtle swing of your hips as you walked. Nothing was ever fair, but sometimes things got close, even for an old dog like himself.