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bakubunny · 7 months

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bnha: voice kink!reader

bakugo | todoroki | kaminari | shinso

because sometimes, just the sound of their voice is enough to make you….

summary: head canons and drabbles on various bnha characters when they find out you have a voice kink

bakugo: the roommate

you’re trying to be quiet knowing you have neighbors, but it’s a little hard to tell how loud your whimpers are with noise cancelling headphones on. and it’s not like your roommate is home anyways, so it’s fine. plus, you can only do so much when you’ve got a dildo in one hand making a mess of your bedsheets. your mind is floating, rubbing your clit with the other, body shuddering in pleasure.

katsuki comes home early from a day of patrol paperwork and settles onto the couch in the livingroom. he can hear you because the walls are too thin in your tiny apartment. he wouldn’t mind (because honestly, everyone does it,) if he didn’t wonder what the hell has you cumming so goddamn much. he glances at the clock nearby; that must have been the fourth or fifth time in less than ten minutes. a small, breathy, “kats-” travels through the thin wall.

that’s it, he has to know.

you’re on the brink of cumming again as the bedroom door slowly swings open. katsuki leans on the doorframe and watches an orgasm rip through your body, back arching off the bed as your legs shake while he goes entirely unnoticed. he pulls the headphones off your head and puts them on before you can stop him. the grin on his face is almost sickening as he listens while you frantically reach for a blanket and your phone to cut the audio. the guy’s voice is low and gruff, filthy words spilling from his lips between growls and heavy groans, and he’s got to be using a pussy sleeve given the wet plap-plap-plap in the background.

funnily enough, katsuki thinks, the voice in question is… kind of similar to his, but his dirty talk is mediocre at best. your head is still foggy and swirling when you stop the audio.

“tch. is this really all it takes to get you off like that? some half-assed dirty talk from a random guy with his dick in his hand?” katsuki teases.

your face burns. “what the fuck are you doing in my room?” you ask as you sit up. “how long have you been here?”

“i can hear you in the other room, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls the headphones off.

your cheeks burn. “then don’t fucking listen, sweetheart. i don’t walk in on you jacking off in the shower twice a day, do i?” you deflate a little when his grin only gets bigger.

“y’said my name. don’t hear me sayin’ yours do ya?” he replies, leaning down to look in your eyes.

your stomach drops. “i-i didn’t-”

“don’t fucking lie to me. answer my question.”

“fine. it slipped out. and no, i don’t. does that stroke your ego enough, asshole? will you get out now?” at this rate, you’ll be looking for another place to live by morning with the level of shame and embarrassment you feel.

katsuki leans in further. you almost pull away, but he grabs you by the neck, his lips grazing your ear. “why should i leave you with that pathetic little toy when i’m right here, hmm?”

“oh fuck,” you whine.

“oh fuck is right, princess,” he says. “lay back down and open your fucking legs.”

soon, katsuki’s got your legs wrapped around his waist as his big, thick cock bullies your already swollen cunt. every grunt, every groan, every word he says is right in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. you’re not sure how many times you’ve cum by the time he’s finished, but you do know you probably have a new record thanks to him.

bakugo with a voice kink!partner

i get the feeling that katsuki knows how sexy his voice is… he’s not that surprised. as a partner, he teases the hell out of you with it. if he finds out you get turned on by him saying the most mundane shit, it’s over for you bbg. he’s going to use it against you lmao.

he likes being close, lots of physical touch (especially during sex), uses touch as a way of communication…. this has its benefits when you’re shivering from his voice and his breath on your skin.

sends you the filthiest audio clips you could ever dream of because he gets off on how much it turns you on. may or may not be stroking it for you to hear while he records them.

will absolutely call you and tease you if he knows you’re turned on/playing with yourself and he’s not around. it doesn’t matter what he’s doing (within reason). if he’s home alone or anywhere he can get away with it, it’s praise, dirty talk, and degradation. if not, he’ll talk to you about anything while he listens and his pants get tight. might even put you on mute during a virtual meeting or smth just so you can hear his voice, knowing what you’re doing while he does.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

todoroki: the clueless nerd

"...yeah. overall, this is well written. if you fix a few things you'll get a much better grade…."

shoto has no fucking clue, does he? you think as he continues to rip apart help you with your essay. it's for one of the last classes you have to take for your major to graduate; the content is dense and your professor is absolutely ruthless. shoto was one of two people in a class of thirty who managed to get higher than an 85 on the first essay, and luckily for you, he's also your friend who's willing to help.

you're trying to focus on shoto's words, truly, you are. but his low, slightly raspy voice is distracting as hell. it makes your skin hot every time he leans into you a little bit to look at your laptop screen to get a better look at what you're doing.

"...so if you break this paragraph up into multiple, you can further expound with an analysis of..."

it feels criminal how good one man can sound. your cheeks are turning red as he plainly explains what can be fixed. you find yourself leaning in as he speaks and you kiss him on the cheek mid-sentence.

shoto stops. he blushes. “i uh. i didn’t know kissing was part of helping you with your essay.”

you laugh softly.

“it’s not. your voice is nice to listen to, and it makes me wanna kiss you. is that okay?”

“y-yeah, that’s okay,” he says, a heavy breath on his lips as he smiles a little.

“then how about you keep talking, and i keep kissing?” you say with a grin and another peck towards his jawline.

shoto replies with a nervous laugh. “that - that might prove to be a little distracting.”

“i think that’s only fair after how long you’ve sat here making it so difficult to focus with that voice of yours.” your lips graze the shell of his ear as you speak and he shudders. you turn his face towards you. “can i kiss you?”

a breathy “yes,” leaves his lips before they crash into yours.

todoroki with a voice kink!partner

if he (somehow) didn't find out abt your kink until you were well into your relationship, he might wonder if there's anything different he should do. he's not insecure, but rather practical and wanting to give you the most pleasure. it's kind of sweet, actually.

shoto is absolutely clueless about how darling his voice is. he’s always a little surprised about how much he can turn you on by just talking. he thought his skill with dirty talk had improved (it had), when really it’s the sound of his voice brushing against the shell of your ear that makes your heart pound.

best moments are when you’re laying in bed and he’s telling you about his day. he’ll never truly get how incredibly sexy that low, raspy murmur of his truly is to you, but he’ll start to get a few hints if you interrupt him with periodic kisses.

he loves discreetly listening to you get off over the phone while he talks to you about whatever.

might try phone sex every now and then, but he’s probably not going to send you audio/video unless you ask him when you’re in the middle of it.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

kaminari: the boyfriend

denki is singing along to the tune on the radio as you sit in his passenger seat. his hand is on your thigh, and your mind can only focus on the bright smile and pretty voice leaving his lips.

“have i ever told you how sexy your voice is?” you ask.

denki stops singing. without missing a beat, he puts on a faux-seductive face and says, “who wouldn’t think this voice is sexyyy?”

“denki, i’m being serious,” you reply as a smile pulls on your cheeks. “you could say just about anything and i’d be able to get off from it.”

“oh really?” his grin widens. “then open those pretty little legs of yours and show me.”

kaminari with a voice kink!partner

once he finds out, he doesn’t realize that he’s so much hotter when he doesn’t try that hard. a little effort goes a long way, and you’re going to have to explain that to him. otherwise you’ll have to put up with his comedic “sexy man” voice when he’s actually trying and you’ll be holding back giggles for the rest of your relationship. 😭

he uses his voice to get you going and tease you once he figures out what you like.

even if you live together, he’s a fan of phone & video sex. whenever he’s gone for more than a day, he’ll be caling you.

denki loves recording the two of you together.

also another one that loves only giving and receiving via audio/video. he’s more than willing to talk to you on the phone discreetly and loves sending clips of him jacking off.

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shinso: the “best friend”

“hey, what’s up?” hitoshi says when he picks up the phone.

a shiver slides down your neck. how is his voice always so damn smooth?

“you busy tonight?” you ask, simultaneously hoping he wouldn’t catch the slight need in your tone while hoping he’d say no. you hear laughter in the background.

“i’m with a couple of the guys, yeah,” he replies slowly. his voice lowers a little. “why do you ask, hmm?”

it’s slight, but you can hear the playfulness in shinso’s expression. heat rushes to your thighs. why does he have to be such a tease? the background noise faded briefly.

you pull your phone away from your ear and mouth a silent, “fuck me,” before answering. “no reason in particular, just wondering if you were free to hang.”

“so you called?” it was more of a statement than a question.

“i- yes, i called,” you say, another flash of heat hitting your cheeks this time. “i’ll let you go. have fun, okay?”

“no. stay on the phone,” he demands. “get something for me.” shinso wasn’t asking for you to get just anything. no, he only said that when he wanted you to pull out a toy, and a specific one at that.

“shin, no. aren’t you with friends?” you ask. truthfully, your heart races at the thought of them possibly overhearing you.

“yes, i am. go on, get it out and send me the link,” he replies.

you sigh and shuffle around a bit as you grumble something about him being obnoxious, trying to avoid telling him that you were already wearing the g-spot vibe he was referring to.

"you've already got it in, don't you?" shinso's voice is warm and deep, so smooth that it slides straight down your body and sinks into your skin.

your shuffling stops. “maybe i do, yeah.”

————

“good girl.” his speech is slow and drawn out as he grins.

denki glances over at him, brows raised. hitoshi listens as a heavy breath leaves your lips. he holds up a hand indicating for denki to give him a moment. he puts a finger to his lips and taps the speakerphone button.

“can you quiet down? jeez. someone’s gonna hear you,” you reply.

“send me the link and maybe, yeah,” he says.

now denki, hanta, eijiro, and even katsuki fall quiet, not knowing what’s going on. a text message pops up on his screen.

“there it is. you listen so well, pretty girl.”

you hold back a moan. “fuck, don’t talk like that. what do you mean maybe?” you ask.

hitoshi turns on the vibrator and a whimper comes through the speaker. “i think you might enjoy it if everyone knew what you were doing right now.”

————

a shudder rolls down your back. “f-fuck you,” you say weakly.

“oh you want me to fuck you, huh? wanna hear me moaning in your ear instead?” hitoshi teases.

he starts moving the control for the vibe from low to high in waves and you can’t hold back a moan. your hand sinks between your legs to relieve the ache of your throbbing clit.

“yes, please, your voice is so sexy. wish you were here,” you reply

“stop on by, sweetheart.”

another smug voice chimes in.

“yeah, there’s plenty of you to go around, i bet,” denki says.

you groan, the weight of his voice and his words falling into your ear. “‘toshi, you fucking asshole.”

hitoshi put the vibe on high and left it there as your whining moans filled the room.

“what? you sound so pretty when you moan for me. it would be impolite to keep that from my guests, don’t you think?”

shinso with a voice kink!partner

shinso has a voice modulator with his hero costume. do you rly think he doesn’t know the power his voice could have over you without his quirk? he’s a smooth talker when he wants to be. he knows.

he’s constantly trying to nuzzle up to you and use that tone of voice that makes your head fuzzy. he could be telling you about the weather or his plans for the day and you’ll have goosebumps shooting over every inch of your skin because he’s damn good at it. then he’s all, “aww, what’s wrong, kitten?” like he doesn’t already know while you bury your face in his chest.

also calls you often or leaves unnecessarily long audios to give you something to listen to. sometimes it’s just to be sweet and let you hear his voice because it’s soothing to you. other times? he wants to hear what his voice does to you.

can totally see him asking to listen as you get off because your voice turns him on just as much. may discover his own voice kink.

will occasionally send audios of him jacking off as a way of showing love.

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @mhadabiandhawks4eva @aria-chikage @gold24fish @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @citysweet @anonymously-ominous @hisconsistency

#aged up characters #feeling meh abt this but at least it’s out of my drafts #heads up there will be no pt 2 I just don’t have it in me sorry loves #bnha #mha #x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bhna x reader #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #kaminari denki #shinsou hitoshi #bakugou smut #shinsou smut #todoroki smut #kaminari smut #bakubunny

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msgexymunson · 9 months

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Sammy's Mom

Description: Eddie Munson finds it difficult to get over his fantasies about you, his best friend's mom. He tries so hard to keep it in check. The only problem? Sammy's mom has got it going on.

A/N: kind of a little nod to the song "Stacey's Mom" (which is 20 years old now BTW, so if you remember it it's time to take aspirin for your back pain), I've written too much older Eddie in my time so trying to balance it out, as I've given him far too much rizz! And his friend is called Sammy as I've watched a lot of Supernatural recently. Please comment and reblog if you enjoy this my sweethearts.

Warnings: where do I start lmao, NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll slap you with a wet fish, age gap, Eddie's 21, reader is early 40s, MILF reader, reader referred to as 'Mrs F' a few times no first name given, perv Eddie, voyeurism, male masturbation, very slight foot fetish (nothing actually happens), oral both male and female receiving, p in v unprotected sex, slight anal play, cum eating.

10.5k words

Masterlist

"UNCLE EDDIE!!"

Johnny's little six year old voice rings out like a bell in the front yard. You look out the window and see him running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards a young man getting out of a beat up van.

"Hey Squirt!" Crouching to his knees, he accepts your kids embrace, then stands with him, swinging him around in the air as Johnny shrieks uncontrollably, unbridled joy brimming from his chest. The next minute he's got Johnny on his shoulders, walking around the house to the back yard.

You smile at their antics, warmed at the gesture. Eddie has always been good with your youngest son when he comes to visit Sammy, your oldest. It was nice, him having another man around to look up to, even if he really needs to remember to watch his language.

Voices sound from the back yard; Eddie had found Sammy and as usual, they were loud and laughing. Not that you minded at all, any laughter those kids could get was music to your ears.

You grab your sunglasses and perch them on top of your head, searching around for your gardening tools. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and you wanted to be near the kids at least. Grasping your pruners and gardening gloves in one hand and a cooler in the other, you make your way to the rear of the house.

Pushing the back door open with a hip, you see Sammy is already in the pool. Johnny is still talking a mile a minute at Eddie, as he sits on the edge of a lawn chair.

Well, he's certainly grown up.

Eddie's shirtless, sitting there in his long black swimming trunks. There's a new tattoo on his ribs but you can't make it out from this distance. He's looking toned; his jaw is sharper, with shoulders broader than you remember. He's become a man.

When the hell did that happen?

Shaking your head out of your temporary revelry, you walk over to the pair of them. The snippets of conversation you overhear as you approach widen the smile on your face.

"So, you think of any new monsters for me big guy?"

Johnny beams at Eddie with pride. "Yeah! So right, it's like, a big bat thing right? With metal bits all over, and- and- then it's got these huuuuge teeth, and- and- when he opens its mouth the teeth fly out, right, and turn into bats!!"

He starts excitedly flapping his arms around and screeching as Eddie laughs and ruffles his hair.

"Bats huh? That's sick. Pretty metal, squirt. Have to add that to the campaign."

Johnny beams at the praise, staring down at his hand, trying to work out his fingers, then flashes the devil horn hand at him triumphantly.

"Johnny honey, do you want to play in the pool? Give Uncle Eddie a chance to breathe?"

"Yeah! Can I do cannonballs? Can I can I can I?"

His enthusiasm always brings a smile to your face. "Sure thing honey, just don't go in the deep end, 'K?"

"Kay!" He flashes a thousand watt smile at you and runs off, calling to his brother.

Your gaze returns to Eddie, who you are sure was just checking you out. His eyes flick to yours almost guiltily.

"Brought some beers out for you both. Here." Passing him the cooler, your hands brush briefly, the slight touch running a shiver down your spine despite the heat.

"Thanks Mrs F."

Eddie licks his lips and you trace the movement with your eyes.

"Mom! What are you wearing?"

Sammy has exited the pool, dripping water everywhere. You look down at your outfit. You were wearing a two piece, slightly skimpier than your usual swimwear, and a pair of jean hotpants.

"Sammy love, it's hot. I'm in my backyard. What am I supposed to do? Dress like a nun?"

Eddie snorts a laugh next to you.

"But you're all… exposed mom."

"Sammy, shut up. Your mom can wear what she wants."

"Yeah? You're only saying that because you-"

But you're destined to never hear the end of that sentence as Eddie pushes him into the pool. Water splashes everywhere, and Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. The gesture has you staring yet again, looking at the skin on his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobs. A mad idea enters your head; what if you just darted your tongue out and licked over it? Decorated that delicate skin with kisses? Nipped at the sides of his throat with your teeth?

Eddie makes eye contact with you then, and you quickly look away. He was sure you were eyeing him up, almost certain of it. Hell, he's been staring at you for years, mapping your curves with his eyes, knowing he'll never get a chance to feel them under his hands, but the look you just gave him made his stomach twist.

Before your thoughts can go any further you tear yourself away and over to the rose bushes. You deadhead the rose bush as if your life depends on it, furiously snipping and cutting, as if you're trying to trim back the impure thoughts you're having.

After a while, the bushes are looking a lot neater. Stepping back, you remove your gardening gloves and swipe the sweat beads on your brow with the back of your hand.

"Mrs F, you wanna beer?"

You turn to see Eddie laying on a sun lounger, waving a cold one. As you walk towards him he stands up to hand it to you.

"That a new tattoo Eddie?" You ask, pointing to his abdomen. He looks taken aback by your question but responds nonetheless.

"Yeah, you like it?"

Your hand drifts towards him almost instinctively, only realising when his muscles tense under your soft touch. It's a scorpion, surrounded in a wreath of flames. Tracing it with your fingers, you circle it slowly. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest. A slow moan escapes Eddie's lips which pulls you out of wherever the hell you were heading. The heat must have gotten to your head. Pulling back your fingers, you respond.

"Yeah, I like it. Metal."

Looking up around him through your lashes, your eyes meet his. He looks flushed, cheeks heating at your stare.

"You OK Eddie?"

"Y-yeah, fine. I'm gonna have a dip in the pool."

He shuffles awkwardly off, nearly bent double. All his strange stance does is draw attention to the tent in his swimming trunks that has appeared. It's really rather large; to your amazement, you can't seem to take your eyes off it. Eddie dives into the pool, swimming over to your son.

Did I just do that?

You shake your head, banishing thoughts of Eddie's package, and head off to the kitchen to clean some dishes.

As Eddie rushes into the pool, he's wishing the cool water would shrink the raging hard on he just got.

Fuck, you look so good today. That skimpy bikini top barely covering the curves of your tits; them damn near spilling out of the top. Those tiny shorts, framing your hips and ass perfectly. Then you had to go and touch him. That had him nearly busting in his pants. He can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. A crazy thought he shouldn't be entertaining.

He dips his head under the water trying to cool the blood that had rushed to his cheeks.

You had to be at least 40. Sammy's Dad had been out of the picture for a while, he knew that much. He couldn't help but wonder if you were a little lonely; maybe that's why you had been flirting with him. Or it was entirely Eddie's imagination and he just needs to jerk off and get it out of his system.

As he gets out of the water, shaking his hair like a dog, he thinks he sees you looking at him through the kitchen window, but he can't be sure.

"Dude, why have you got a boner?" Sammy points at him from the water, forcing Eddie to cup his erection, trying to hide it from prying eyes.

"I can't help it!" He whisper shouts, cheeks flushing anew, "your mom's hot!"

"Eddie! Don't say that, that's gross!" Sammy slings back, pulling a disgusted face.

"Hey it's not, she's a total fox, what can I do, it's like, biological, she's a babe!"

Little did he know you can hear every word, pressing your lips together firmly to suppress a laugh as you dry up a cup in the kitchen.

"She's like, really old, and she's my mom for God's sake!"

"Hey, rude, she's not that old. You think she's into younger guys?" You can hear the smile in his voice, he's clearly just trying to wind Sammy up now, but your thighs clench together at the thought. The cup in your hands is dry as a bone right now.

"Eddie shut the f-"

"What's a boner?" The little voice is clear and loud, cutting through the argument.

A loud laugh shoots from your chest uncontrollably. You try to mask it with your hand but there's nothing you can do, it's out there now.

Eddie's head whips around to face the house, flicking water droplets in its wake.

"Oh shit." It's low, but loud enough to hear.

Making your way back outside, you call out to Johnny to save either of them answering the awkward question.

"Come on kid, you want a snack?"

"Yeah mommy! Shit!" Eddie's mouth drops open.

"What did I say about copying Eddie" you ask sternly.

He parrots back in a sing-song voice, "don't copy Eddie, Eddie is dirty."

"That's right. Come on, inside." He runs past you in the way only a child can, feet flat on the floor slapping on the concrete.

Eddie steps a little closer to you.

"I'm so sorry Mrs F it won't-"

"Hey, it's OK," you reply, stepping to meet him. You drop your voice lower, hand up as if you're telling a secret. On autopilot, Eddie leans towards you to hear your whisper, close enough to smell your shampoo.

"Sometimes mommy's dirty too."

Turning on your heel, you walk back into the house without a glance, leaving Eddie with his jaw on the floor.

Where the hell did that come from?

You try to steady your breathing as you go inside. That was reckless of you, he's half your age. You admonish yourself, telling your brain that you need to stop flirting with the poor boy.

Eddie's frozen on the spot. It's clear you overheard their little conversation, and then you come out with something like that? It's definitely not his imagination at this point. For a crazy moment he thinks he might actually have a shot at you.

Stop it. She's Sammy's mother for Christ's sake. Pull yourself together Munson.

"Imma take a quick shower if that's alright and get, er, changed. You wanna work on the campaign some more?" Eddie says it over his shoulder to Sammy, not daring to turn. He's never been so hard in all his life.

"Sure, just stay out of my mom's room."

Eddie laughs nervously, "who do you think I am?" As he walks to the house.

"Eddie fuckin' Munson." Sammy mutters under his breath.

As he stumbles into the house with his bundle of clothes over his crotch, he catches another glimpse of you, on your hands and knees searching in a cupboard.

"Honey, I don't think we've got any animal crackers left." You say over your shoulder to a pouting Johnny.

You're barely contained in your jean hot pants, the denim tight against your perfect ass.

"Fuckin' hell" Eddie mutters under his breath, tearing his eyes away to make his way upstairs.

He practically runs up the stairs, tripping slightly on the last step. Flinging his body into the bathroom, he shuts and locks the door.

Five seconds later he's in the shower with his hand wrapped around his slippery cock, tugging on it as if it were his last day on earth.

Fuck, why does she have to be so fine?

He's whimpering and stifling breathy moans as he cums hard in less than five minutes. Shame snags its sneaky claws into his heart then, as he hangs his head under the shower head. He needs to get it together before the thought of you ruins him completely.

********************

Knocking on your eldest son's door, he calls out for you to enter. Both him and Eddie are sitting on the bed, a pile of books and notes between them. You do your best to ignore the smoky weed smell as you address him.

"Sammy, I'm heading out, you still OK to take care of Johnny?"

"Woah, Mrs F you look h-" Sammy elbows him in the ribs before he can finish the sentence, "-very nice." Eddie finishes lamely.

A smile spreads over your face at his words. Your date tonight was nothing special, not really, but the need growing between your legs needed to be sorted out somehow. So, you'd dressed to impress; a red figure hugging dress, ending just at the knee, with matching slingbacks. Your hair was down, hanging past your shoulders in soft curls.

"Mom, I'm going to Tiffany's, to stay over, remember?" Sammy responds, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at you.

"That was tonight?" Well, fuck. "Your grandma's coming to pick Johnny up at 9, can't you stay until then?

"I can watch him."

You both turn to look at Eddie. He looks just as surprised as you two at his words.

"I can watch him, no problem. I ain't got anywhere to be tonight."

Eddie doesn't know why he offered. Well, in part he did. He might get to see you again in that dress later.

"Thanks Eddie, you're a lifesaver. I can pay-"

"Oh no, don't worry about it." He flashes a grin which does something to your insides, melting them just a little.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Johnny's downstairs watching TV, he's had dinner, just need to wait for my mom to pick him up. You sure it's OK?"

"Of course, it's no problem."

"OK, well make yourself at home." You give him a winning smile of your own which makes his face flush red.

"Oh, and Sammy?"

"Yeah mom?"

"Use protection."

"Mom!"

You laugh and shut the door, heading off to your date.

********************

The date was a total bust, not that you'd expected anything less. Greg from accounting was nice, sure; kind of handsome, in a middle aged balding kind of way. A reliable sort of guy. Then, when the dinner was over and he kissed you, you knew there was no way it was going to go any further. So, you'd refused his invitation to go to a bar, made your excuses and got a cab home.

Standing outside your house, you look at the time. 9:30. Rock and roll. You huff into the humid night air at how old you must seem right now, and open your front door.

"Eddie!"

Sprawled on the sofa, manspreading, sits Eddie. A beer rests on the coffee table, and the TV is blaring out some horror film.

He scrambles to his feet looking like he's about to be told off.

"Mrs F, sorry, erm, your mom's not here yet, she called saying she was running late-"

As if on cue, there's a knock at the door. You open it, and see your mom standing there, pushing past you in a cloud of perfume.

"Hey love, so sorry I'm late!" She looks at you, then Eddie. "Is this your date?"

Blushing a furious red, you shake your head.

"Oh, no this is Sammy's friend, he was watching Johnny for a bit."

"Oh, the young man I spoke to on the phone. Shame, he's very handsome." She winks at you.

"Mom!"

Eddie looks like he's about to die from blood loss; his face is so drained it's ghostly white.

"I-I'll go get squirt," he stumbles out awkwardly.

"Mom, please behave." You whisper when he's left the room.

"I'm behaving! I thought you were on a date, what happened?"

"He wasn't my type."

"Well, you should find someone who is. How long has it been?"

You run your hand through your hair, feeling a little more confrontational than usual due to the alcohol in your veins.

"Mom, just drop it. I'm fine!"

"OK, OK! That babysitter is a fine looking young man-"

"Mom!"

"Mommy!" You turn just in time for Johnny to grab your legs in a hard hug, squishy cheek pushing against your thigh.

"We went on an adventure! I'm a Knight, I saved the lady! There was gobbins and stuff!" His little eyes shine, staring at Eddie in pure adoration.

"Really? Well done! Sounds amazing love. Go on, go with nanna. I love you."

"OK! Love you mom! Bye Uncle Eddie!" He runs over to him and grabs his legs fiercely. Eddie ruffles his hair in response.

"Night squirt. Or should I say Sir Johnny the Just?"

"Yeah! Imma hero!" He beams and runs off to grasp your mother's hand, regaling her of his adventures.

"I'll see you later mom," you say, passing her Johnny's overnight bag by the door.

As the door shuts, the only sounds are coming from the gristly movie on the TV until Eddie switches it off. Silence.

"Mrs F, I only opened the beer after I put him to bed, I swear-"

"Hey, it's fine, don't worry. Thanks for staying longer, I appreciate it."

"Oh, it's fine. My trailers empty anyway, and you have cable." He smiles sheepishly at you.

"I told you, make yourself at home. Finish your beer."

Shoes are kicked off to join the jumble at the front door, and you rub some life back into your aching heels. Eddie's staring at your feet and he can't figure out why. He's never had a thing for feet, but yours? Yours he'd happily have running over his body, in his mouth, on his cock. He's almost ashamed at how just the slightest bit of your flesh on show has him practically drooling.

You're oblivious to Eddie's perverse thoughts however. Tonight was not what you wanted, and it makes you huff aloud at the thought.

"You alright Mrs F?" Eddie asks, concern in his voice as he sits back down on the couch, trying his hardest not to stare at your cleavage.

"Yeah I'm-" why are you lying? "no, actually I'm not. Not the night I was expecting." When you flash a weak smile at Eddie, it's not returned. He looks worried almost.

"Wanna talk about it?"

It's sweet of him to ask, and you're about to brush it off but he just looks so invested in your welfare that it takes you aback briefly.

"Sure. Hang on a minute." You pad barefoot to the kitchen and grab a beer, returning to the living room to sit on the couch beside him.

Eddie is trying to tell himself he's just being nice. It's not just an excuse to stay. It's difficult to believe his own thoughts however when your dress is riding up your thigh like that.

The very air between you both seems thick and laced with unanswered questions, tension real and palpable.

"So, Sir Johnny the Just?" You ask, to try and clear the closing space.

"Yeah," Eddie grins, face lighting up at the mention of your boy, "I gave him the name. Made a little one shot for him, you know, fought some goblins, saved a damsel in distress. He's got a knack for D&D."

Your eyes glisten at that.

"Thanks, he really looks up to you. It's nice, him having some guys around."

"Can I ask, what happened to… Mr F?" He knows he's crossing a line here, but he's so curious, and Sammy never talks about it.

"He left me. I was pregnant with Johnny, and he met some blonde twig, had an affair."

"Oh, I'm so fuckin' sorry."

You shrug. It's trauma, yes, but it's passed. A wound that has long since closed over the years, scarring but healing. You sip your beer and ask a line crossing question of your own.

"So, no girlfriend then? Since you're free on a Saturday night?"

You're not sure where that came from, but it's been asked now. A bubble of nerves pops when you ask it, showering you in drops of second guesses.

"N-no, well I mean, yeah I've had like, girlfriends in the past but no, I'm single. As a pringle."

What was that about? Smooth Munson.

You just laugh as he visibly cringes at his own words.

"Pringles aren't single, they fit together. They come in a tube." You add, mock helpfully.

You both chuckle then, diffusing some of the awkwardness between you. He knocks your knee with his. You reciprocate, and look up into those soulful puppy dog eyes of his.

Eddie's arm lays on the back of the couch behind you, and he's painfully aware of that fact. He wants to drop it to your shoulder, to run circles on your exposed skin and give you that smile, the smile he's given to a dozen girls. But you aren't a girl. You're a woman. The thought is making him more nervous than a virgin on prom night.

Coughing the thought away, he asks you about tonight.

"So, what happened on your date? I thought you'd be out later."

"So did I." You slug some more beer back to calm yourself, and continue, "he was a nice guy. Opened doors, paid for dinner. Then he kissed me."

Eddie attempted to ignore the burning jealousy in his gut.

"Oh yeah? Sounds awful.'

Laughing, you reach and stroke his side for a minute. Your hand lingers, feeling down to his hip. Eddie's heart is pounding in his throat. To his amazement, you leave it there, absentmindedly running fingers over his t-shirt.

'Yeah, torture," you quip, "it was the kiss."

Suddenly, you're moving your hand, much to Eddie's dismay, and turning to face him on the couch. He does the same, noticing that his arm is now so close to your head he can feel a slight tickle from your hair.

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Sure," Eddie tries to say coolly, to act like his entire insides aren't on fire because of the eye contact you're giving him.

"It's, er, been a while. A very long while." Your eyes dip down, unsure why the hell you're telling Eddie this, but something about him is making you want to be open when usually you're a closed book.

Eddie swallows thickly. He knows exactly what you're getting at. On instinct his thumb is rubbing the back of your head, over the soft curls. You don't seem to mind, better yet, your shoulders drop some tension, letting go just a little.

Still looking down, you say "I can usually tell what someone's going to be like, in bed, from a kiss. Never been wrong yet," you laugh a little, "and he felt, well, dull, and kinda selfish."

Grabbing your beer for something to distract you from the ache in your core, you drink some more, nearly finishing it.

As you place it back down on the coffee table, you glance at Eddie's lap. He's fumbling with his rings, spinning one with his thumb as he shifts in his seat. There's an unmissable bulge in the front of his jeans; they're so tight you can see the outline of it. Of him.

Glancing up at his face when you feel brave enough, it's beetroot red, but his eyes look dark, hungry almost.

"Well, th-that's a cool superpower to have," he laughs out nervously.

"I suppose it is" You smile.

Eddie's trying so hard to control himself. The devil on his shoulder is pulling at his hair and yelling in his ear to make a move.

This isn't right though, it's Sammy's mom for fucks sake.

That's when you put your hand on his knee, touching that bare patch of skin where his jeans are frayed. Your touch is delicate, almost hesitant, and it destroys any resolve Eddie had. His hand is shaking slightly as he puts his fingers over yours.

The touch is warming and electric, fanning the flames of the blazing fire in your stomach. As your eyes meet, Eddie's confidence grows. He can see that you want this, but someone needs to make the first move, and he would kick himself if he missed out because he didn't have the balls to make it.

"You know sweetheart," he begins, as you take a sharp breath at the nickname, he's never called you anything other than Mrs F before that, "you can't just say you have a superpower like that and not show me."

There's nerves in his voice, but also a cheeky smile playing on his lips. To his amazement you blush, mouth curving into a smile of your own.

"Listen, Eddie, you're a very sweet boy-"

"-man," He interjects, "I'm 21."

Chuckling, you reply, "OK, a very sweet young man, but I don't think that's a good idea."

It's true, you don't. It's a very bad idea, but it's one you can't get out of your head, your eyes drawn to the curve of his jaw, his stubble, those plush lips of his. Wetting your lips impulsively, you nibble at the bottom one which sends Eddie's head into a dizzying whirlwind.

"I just wanna know if I'm good in the sack, think it's only fair if you can tell me, it's just a kiss."

Luck being pushed as far as it can go and then a little further, he daringly places a hand on your cheek.

He is right, it's only a kiss.

You say it in your head as if you're trying to convince yourself of the lie. By the time you realise how weak of an argument it is, you're already leaning forward, eyes unmistakably drawn to his lips.

Eddie leans in, breath fanning your face.

"Don't you want to… satisfy your curiosity?"

It's bold, he knows, but you're the one who leans in further.

Eddie doesn't think twice, not when your eyes are hooded like that and your lips are forming a sultry pout. He presses his lips to yours softly at first, feeling the plush of them melt against his, his hand winding into your hair.

You don't stop him, or pull back. His lips on yours are disarming, taking away your bite. The kiss is gentle, and you dissolve into it, moving your lips against his with a passion you can't remember ever feeling.

Eddie's trying really hard not to just stick his tongue down your throat and feel you up, but he needs to prove something. He might not ever get a chance ever again, so he takes it slow. Opening his mouth, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging. Not only do you let him, you return his tongue with a lick of your own, running it over his lip in turn. Tongues stroke into each other's mouths sensually; you feel as if you have something to prove. Like he's the one who will be judging you and not the other way around.

He tastes intoxicating; you can't put your finger on why, it's beer, and cigarettes, and something else that's drawing you in. It's just pure Eddie. His smell too, leather, smoke and Old Spice; it's filling you up from the inside out, making your head spin.

Eddie's obsessed. Your touch, your scent, your taste. He could kiss you forever; he could kiss you until he dies, suffocated by your mouth, your passion. This feels like some sort of fever dream and he never wants to wake up.

Your fingers are touching cotton fabric before you even understand that you've got a fistful of his shirt, pulling him in further. He responds by dropping his hand to your neck, thumb rubbing intoxicating patterns on your pulse point.

When you're feeling on the brink of being entirely consumed by his kiss, he's the one to pull away. It's a little sneaky, he knows that, but he wants the upper hand and thinks he won't get it ever again. Eddie can't believe his luck when he sees your eyes still closed, lips chasing his touch, with a ball of his shirt in your hands.

As your eyes flutter open, you look up at him. A self satisfied smirk is smeared across his face and you can't help but think he's won this round of whatever the hell you're playing. Playing with fire it feels like.

A moment too late and you remember your hand bunched into his clothes. You unhand him and slap his knee, fingers unwilling to pull away.

"So, what's the verdict sweetheart?" Eddie asks. His fingers are still massaging at your neck, rubbing back and forth, sending tingles down your spine.

"What?" You ask, mind well and truly blank.

"Guessing that's good." He laughs, taking his hand away to take a sip of his beer. "Remember your superpower, Wonder Woman?"

"Oh, yeah. It was… good." You shrug, picking up the last of your beer and downing it.

"Good? Good?! Come on, you gotta give me more than that!" He huffs dramatically, slamming his beer bottle on the table.

Laughing aloud, you turn and face him again. He really is beautiful. His hair framing his face, that triumphant smile on his lips, laughter lines creasing in his day old stubble. You can almost believe he's older than he is, but knowing what you know about his family, he's been through a lot.

"OK, it was the best kiss I've had in a while. A very long time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

It's quiet for a moment; a loaded kind of quiet. It hangs heavily in the air like a thunderstorm.

"Well, how about you?" You ask.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean!" You laugh, nudging him with your foot.

"It was… good." He says, mimicking your words. Then he takes in your face, drinking in your beauty with his eyes, until he can't hold back anymore, "alright, it was mind blowing, you're really fuckin' hot."

"Yeah, for my age" You scoff at his response, disbelieving him even after that kiss. You hear it alot, ever since you passed 35. 'You look good for your age', the backhanded compliment that feels like a knife in the chest.

"That's bullshit!" Eddie responds loudly, shaking you out of your head and into the here and now, "you're fucking hot, period. Nothing to do with age sweetheart."

If his words are lies, the bulge in his pants sure isn't. You feel drunk, and not from the alcohol. Eddie's kiss had you feeling reckless. Naughty. Young.

"I overheard your little conversation earlier," you admit, scooching closer to him on the couch. Faces an inch apart, Eddie's torn between pouncing or running. So are you.

"Yeah, you weren't supposed to hear that. Kinda glad you did."

That makes you braver. All thought has gone, and the pounding need in between your legs has you losing all inhibitions as you lean towards his neck.

"Do you want me, Eddie?" You purr into his ear, nipping at the lobe with your teeth.

"Uh, like, yeah. Yes, o-of course" He replies shakily, hand restless against your thigh.

"You're trembling Eddie" it's your turn to smirk, lips dragging against his throat, "you've been with a woman before, right?" You know he has, but you can't help teasing him a little.

Yes, a dozen, but none like you.

"Y-yeah, I'm not a virgin, if th-that's what you're asking."

Get it the fuck together Munson.

"Then why are you nervous?"

"Girls don't make me nervous. You make me nervous" He laughs, with absolute honesty in his words.

With a flick of your eyes to his lips, you cradle his jaw. Eddie can't wait a second longer, he's about to burst. He takes a breath, grabs you by the hip, and presses a hard kiss to your mouth.

The first one was a test, an examination. This one is pure desire, neediness etched into the marrow of his bones. Yet you're the one to deepen the kiss, mouth opening up to him, your tongue running over his with fervour. Lust is rolling off the pair of you, filling the room with its sultry fog.

Impatience gets the best of him, he needs you closer, so he yanks you into his lap, hands grabbing hard to your hips. Gasping into his mouth at the sudden dominance, you let him lead. His kiss is burning you, hot and heavy. Your hips start grinding into his lap of their own accord, each movement inching your dress higher and higher.

Eddie rolls it up and over your ass so your red lace panties are on display, dress bunching at your waist. His hands are all over you, feeling at your thighs, your hips, your ass, kneading at the dough of your flesh desperately.

Each grope, each bruising squeeze of his fingertips has you panting in his mouth, your hands winding into his loose locks, tugging.

The kisses are becoming sloppier, allegedly immovable lipstick starting to smear on Eddie's face. You're biting at his bottom lip, grinding hard against his clothed dick; Eddie feels like he's died and gone to heaven.

He tugs at your dress urgently, coaxing you to wriggle it up your frame and fling it away.

The sight of you in your matching bra and panty set is enough to stop him in his tracks. It's gorgeous satin and lace, one of many you have. Even Eddie can see this is expensive. He runs his hands up and down your sides, drinking it in as if it were his last day on Earth.

You allow him the few moments he takes to worship you with his eyes. If anything you're enjoying it as much as he is, his hungry stare fuelling your ego.

"See something you like?" You tease, fingernails dragging across his neck.

"Fuck yeah" comes his breathy response, pulling down a cup of your bra roughly, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking.

Throwing your head back, you let out an unadulterated moan. You grab the hem of his shirt and tug it upwards. He gets the message, wrestling it off of his toned frame and throwing it away as if he's exasperated with clothes. Relishing in this new uncharted territory, your hands run all over his skin, tracing tattoos and freckles, fingernails leaving evidence of your desire.

"Sorry, I just need to-" instead of telling you, he shows you, standing up with you grasped firmly at the hips. You think for a moment that he's going to take you upstairs, but he's pressing you down gently to the floor, lips and tongue tasting your neck, playfully licking over your collarbone.

Eddie needs to know what your pussy tastes like; he's been dreaming of this for as long as he can remember. The thought of you unravelling because of him has him twitching in his pants.

So, he makes his way down your torso, mapping your skin with his tongue. You're just so reactive; each time he laps and sucks at you a breathy gasp comes spilling from perfect painted lips.

It's driving you crazy, his mouth is setting each patch of skin aflame, burning with passion. You're surprised by his movements as his mouth trails lower and lower. It looks like he's taking every enjoyment in tasting you, and the way he wiggles to get between your spread legs makes you realise he's going to go down on you. That is what's so surprising; you've never had a man who did that without some serious coaxing, let alone one who seemed to really want to.

Now you're not self conscious by any means; you've grown to be very comfortable with your body, the feeling just comes with age. You can't help but be a little worried however, when Eddie reaches the stretch marks on your tummy. Little lightning strikes, lighter than the rest of your skin. You're not embarrassed, those little marks on your stomach and thighs are signs of your two beautiful boys. What's troubling you is the fact that Eddie can't have possibly seen any before, at least like this. What if they disgust him?

It seems you needn't have worried. Eddie's in awe, running his fingers over the soft skin of the scars. He plants a kiss over the top and watches your muscles tense up.

It's not that he likes them, or dislikes them for that matter; it's the fact that they are real. You're real, and in front of him in your underwear, and they ground him to the fact that this is actually happening.

Reaching the hem of your panties he's torn between taking them off or not; you're just so damn pretty in them. He settles for running his tongue along the seam making you moan. You, Sammy's mom, moaning underneath him. He'd pinch himself if he didn't think it would spoil the mood.

"You can take them off if you want baby."

"Can I just, move them to the side? You're so fuckin' pretty like this."

"Sure" you nod at him. He does so and nearly dies at the sight. Seems everything about you is thought of, down to your manicured nails, waxed legs, and bikini wax. The little patch of hair left is driving Eddie fucking crazy.

He wastes no more time and runs his tongue through your folds, lapping at you like a man possessed. You taste exquisite, a flavour Eddie will remember for the rest of his life. It has him groaning into you, the vibration tingling over your clit making you writhe under him.

He's trying to map what you like, what makes you whimper, what makes you buck into his mouth. You can tell he's trying, really trying, but you know what you need.

"Eddie, oh fuck, use, use the flat of your tongue," as he changes his tongue shape and rhythm, you wind your fingers into his hair and tug him right where you need him, "Oh God fuck, right there!"

Yes fucking ma'am.

Eddie's birthdays, Christmases, Easters, fuck it, all the holidays, have come at once. You are using him for your pleasure, riding his face. His dick is so swollen it's almost painful; he's rutting into the carpet like a teenager, the seam on his jeans not nearly providing enough friction.

The pleasure is coursing through your veins, throbbing inside your stomach and thighs as you take what you need, fingers pulling hard at his hair.

The moan that rips from your chest when Eddie pushes two fingers into your soaking wet cunt is pornographic, long and loud. He curls them upward, stroking incessantly at your g spot and spots appear in your vision. The last coherent thought you have is, fuck he really knows what he's doing.

"Eddie!"

You come with a strangled scream of his name, then it's all just white light and searing ecstasy as you ride out your orgasm. Your pulse and the feel of Eddie's hair taut in your fingers are the only things keeping you on planet Earth.

Eddie just about holds it together, fingers working you through your release. You screamed his name. He almost came in his pants right then and there. The sound of you screaming his name is now a new core memory. He's sure he will replay it in his head many times with his fist on his cock.

Your back finally touching the carpet again, you tear Eddie's head away from your pussy and coax him none too gently upward. He hovers over your mouth, a little worried about kissing you when his face is covered with your release, but that worry turns into shock when you push his head forcefully towards yours and slip your tongue in his mouth.

You can't help but moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth. The moan sounds low in your throat, buzzing into Eddie's mouth so low he feels it in his dick. Seems you weren't lying when you said mommy is dirty too.

Suddenly Eddie's world turns sideways as you flip him onto his back, pushing his thighs apart with your knee. His scent, the feel of his skin, it's intoxicating. Before you realise what you're doing, you're sucking a love bite into the side of his neck, hard.

Mine.

Trailing lips and manicured nails down his torso, you pause at the fly of his jeans. You look up at him through your lashes.

"This OK Eddie?"

"Erm… oh God yes?"

You giggle girlishly, flicking the button of his jeans undone and unzipping the fly gently. Relishing in the moment, you guide him to lift his hips and pull his jeans and boxers down slowly, unwrapping him like a gift.

And what a fucking gift.

As you pull his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his hardened cock springs out, coming to rest on his abdomen. It's big, the biggest you think you've seen in real life. Blushing a pretty pink at the tip, a pearl of pre cum sits on the slit at the top.

Eddie takes your stillness as judgement, he can't help but fill in the silence.

"Sorry, it's er, it's not like, impressive or anything- oh fuck"

His apologies are interrupted when you take the tip in your mouth, sucking up the pre cum that glistens there. You roll the tip around your mouth, amazed at the fact he tastes so good.

Breaking away with a pop, you reply, looking at him as you fist his length slowly with one hand.

"Eddie, you're really, really big."

"Really?" He doesn't look convinced, leaning up on his elbows to look at you.

"Really. You're huge Eddie."

"Yeah?" An edge of disbelief coats his voice, but he's smiling.

"Biggest I've seen."

Eddie's smile is damn near splitting his face in half.

"So, could I get that in writing or- Jesus fuckin' Christ!"

You take him in your mouth again, fitting as much as you can, fisting the rest in your hand. The groans and whimpers coming from Eddie's mouth are downright obscene. The wetter you get him, the louder he gets, so you dribble purposely all over your fist, letting it drip down to his balls.

Eddie's eyes keep trying to roll back but he won't let them, he refuses. He needs to see this, to see you. The slick sounds your hand and mouth are creating are making him fizz from the inside out, each movement is making him want to blow his load in that perfect practised mouth.

Sammy's mom is sucking my fucking dick dry.

He's trying to get his head around this impossible situation but it's so outlandish he wants to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. He settles on moaning, hand resting on the back of your head, stroking encouraging circles.

"Fuck, you're- you're too good at this, holy shit!"

Relinquishing his length with a sodden wet noise, you fist his length, running your thumb over his tip and lapping at his balls. Taking one in your mouth and playfully sucking, he nearly busts right then and there.

"OK sweetheart, I-I can't hold back if you, fuck, if you d-do that-"

You finally unhand him with a cheeky smile and straddle him, your underwear the only barrier between your sex and his throbbing length.

"You OK there champ?" You ask, a mischievous grin plastered all over your face as you drag your perfect nails down his chest.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I-" Eddie grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks, "Please give me a minute, please."

Eddie's eyes are big, wide and wet. Almost like a lost puppy. You're torn between wanting to hold him close, look after him, and fucking him hard until he cries.

Suddenly he looks concerned, eyes growing impossibly wider.

"I don't have, a-a condom or anything-"

You chuckle lowly, bringing his hand to your lips, kissing softly at his knuckles.

"Eddie, baby, I had my tubes tied years ago. It's OK. If it's OK with you?"

Holy shit. Sammy's mom wants to ride me raw. Jesus Christ.

His head is spinning; he realises he's nodding so hard he may have whiplash. You smirk at his response, the rigorous nodding and wide eyed look is just doing something to your insides; twisting them up, making you hungry.

Maybe that's why you do what you do. You wink at him, and swing your leg over, pushing your underwear to the side once again. Though this time, you're straddling him backwards, round ass on display as you tease the head of his cock with your soaking wet lips.

As you sink down onto him, you hear the guttural moan that strikes out from his soul almost, travelling swiftly to your core. He's big, you weren't lying. You feel each vein, each ridge, as you seat yourself fully onto his cock.

This boy has no idea what he's packing.

Jesus Christ, the spots this impressive length can reach are unreal. You bounce on him slowly, revelling in the stretch. He's throbbing underneath you, inside you. The sensation makes you moan wantonly, feeling sexier than you've felt in years.

Eddie's mesmerised by your ass, watching it bounce on his dick, drooling at the shake of it when it plunges back down. His eyes are drawn to your tight hole, half hidden by the pricey underwear that still adorns you. Just a tiny slip of lace hugged in your ass cheeks.

He's already pushed his luck; he's well aware of that fact. The arousal pumping through him has him throwing caution to the wind however, so he sucks his thumb, getting it nice and wet, and pushes it against your asshole.

It surprises you, sure, but you're moaning louder at his bold move.

Eddie's reeling, dizzy at your reaction. He was expecting at least for you to just slap his hand away, but if anything you speed up and make even more noise. Fuck, if you could get more perfect, you just did. He pushes his digit in, feeling you clench around it, riding him for all he's worth.

"Oh fuck, Eddie!"

It's too much for you to take, being filled in both holes, riding him hard and fast until your vision is blurring and spots are in your eyes. Your release startles you, a fuzzy feeling filling you up from the inside out and exploding from your cunt in a gush.

Reality seeps in as you come down from your high; pain in your knees searing up your leg.

"Sweetheart, I need to get on top, please."

It's a relief you're not prepared to admit to as you climb off, legs twitching and knackered.

Near collapsing on the floor, Eddie's on you, falling in his excitement. He's forgotten his jeans are still woven around his ankles. He kicks them off and slides between your spread legs.

"Can I take your panties off now sweetheart?"

What he's not saying, is he really doesn't want to miss what might be the only time he gets to see you naked. You oblige, lifting up your hips so he can wrestle the sodden garment off you.

As if you can hear his prayers, you unhook your bra too, flinging it toward the couch. Eddie's nearly having a heart attack; it's hammering hard in his chest, the only thing stopping it from bursting out is his ribcage. The sight of you, nude, beneath him? It's unravelling him in a way he didn't know was possible.

So he loses it for a moment, burying his head in the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. Your nipples stand to attention at his ministrations, yet your core hums at the lack of attention.

"Eddie, please, I need you inside me."

Fuck this is unreal. She's so beautiful and she's begging for me. Feels like a dream.

But it's not a dream. He's pressing his quivering length against you again and your pussy is swallowing him up as if it's hungry for him.

You let him in, his hard member spearing you, humping into you hard and rough. You groan against him, fingernails finding leverage in his broad shoulders.

His arms hook under your sweaty knees, pulling them hard against your torso, angling himself to fuck into you mercilessly.

"Fuck, you feel- so fuckin' good" He stammers out, slamming his hips into you.

You're beyond words, screaming his name like it's the only word you know.

"You gonna come again? Please, fuck, please come, I need it, I need it baby please" His babbling words fire out at you, driving you ceaselessly to another orgasm.

Fingers wind between your heaving forms, running urgent circles over your clit. They slip and slide against your sodden nub, desperately seeking to get you to that precipice. You moan, and moan, and finally clench and scream his name, voice hard, burning in your throat.

Eddie can't take it, not the way your cunt is grabbing onto him so tightly, constricting his dick as if it's afraid he'll leave. He stutters his hips and grunts his own release deep into you.

For a minute he doesn't stop, He refuses to stop. He doesn't want it to be over. So, he fucks his cum into you until it's impossible to continue and finally comes up for air.

You envelop his lips into a suffocating kiss, swollen lips and tongue and spit. Messy and passionate, he returns it, glad that you still want to kiss him at the end of all things.

Though, you don't want it to be over. His touch, his feel, his taste, you could soak it up, roll around in it forever, wrap yourself in his arms and stay. A mad thought. A maddening thought.

Eddie slips from inside you making you frown at the loss. His smile is soaked in mischief however, as he starts to kiss down your front again, burying his head in the deep valley of your breasts, tongue lathering over the supple flesh and moving downwards.

He's never, ever, felt the need to taste himself on another. As a matter of fact, if you had told him yesterday he would feel the desperate urge to press his tongue into a pussy that is dripping with his own cum he would have laughed in your face. But, this is your pussy. Your tight wet cunt, and he needs to taste it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe. For a second he stares up at you with big soulful eyes.

"I wanna taste what we made."

His words are shooting into the pulse spilling from your core.

"Really?" Your words drip in perplexity, amazed that any man would want that, but the thought lingers, making you realise that you want that.

No further time wasted, he dives into your dripping core, tongue dragging through your aching lips. For a moment it's too much, until it drops into pleasure; pleasure that you sink into, melting under his touch.

Eddie laps furiously at your clit, both of your releases dripping from his chin. He sinks thick fingers inside, squelching into your soft heat.

Wordlessly, he takes his fingers out and reaches them up to your face. His eyes are trained on you, flat of his tongue rubbing against your swollen nub.

Hesitantly, you take in the sight of his sticky fingers, before you take them into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks. The taste is indescribable; it's salty, sweet, tangy, each separate flavour hitting your tongue differently, fuelling your desires.

You're making Eddie's dreams come true with that gesture. Your trust in him, your filthiness, the way your tongue works against his fingers, it's all shooting to his heart, and his cock. He's impossibly hard again, groaning into your cunt.

Another release is speeding toward you. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it, free falling into ecstasy. You grip around his wrist, fingers digging bruises into the tendons as your orgasm rushes out of you in a string of curse words.

He moves back up your body and you envelop his slicked lips in a firm kiss. To your surprise, you can feel his hard member digging into your thigh. It's been a long time since you've been with anyone who couldn't go more than one round before rolling over and falling asleep. The joys of youth.

"You OK Eddie?" You ask between breath-taking kisses.

"OK? I'm fucking amazing sweetheart. Feel like I just won the lottery or something" He huffs a laugh, nudging the tip of his nose with yours.

"You, erm-" you begin, feeling almost embarrassed, "-you wanna go again?"

"Oh hell yeah."

His tip is already begging at your entrance but you place a firm hand to his chest, stilling his movements.

"Eddie, upstairs? My back is killing me." You admit it, the hard floor giving you aches and pains.

"Fuck, yeah, sorry. Come on" practically leaping up, he holds out his hand to you and you grasp it in yours. You giggle at his eagerness, the sight of him stark naked leaping up the stairs three at a time stoking your amusement.

This might be inappropriate, it might be a bit wrong, but damn, this is fun. Having someone desire you so much, who wants to fuck you over and over? Morals can kick in tomorrow. Tonight, you have a gorgeous young man aching to give you more.

********************

"Hey, you still here?"

You look up, distracted from your musings of last night. God, that boy had some stamina.

"Huh?"

"Wow, that date must have been good! You going to spill? Come on, tell me about it!"

Blushing, you sip the glass of wine in front of you. Karen Wheeler had popped round unannounced with a bottle and you were sitting around your kitchen table whilst she grilled you about why you were smiling so much. She would lose her shit if she knew who you were smiling about.

"I mean, I can't really talk about it." You mumble around your glass.

"Oh God, why? Oh, he's married, I bet he's married! You naughty thing!" Her words are admonishing, but her cheeks are glowing. She's loving every minute of this.

Why not? At least that would explain it away.

"Yeah, he's married."

"Oh my you're terrible!" She cackles, laughing. "How was he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Karen."

"Oh, come on you're practically glowing! I know that look" She says, nodding sagely.

"OK, look" You say, taking a gulp of wine for composure and a deep breath before it rushes out of your mouth in a torrid whisper.

"It was fucking incredible, like toe curling incredible, you know? And he just kept going, I mean, honestly? The best I've ever had."

Karen coughs and nods pointedly behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see him.

Eddie. Fuck.

He's standing there nonchalantly, leaning on the doorframe with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Sorry for the interruption, just grabbing a couple beers."

He bounces into the kitchen and fetches two beers from the fridge.

"Me and Sammy are just working on the campaign. I'll er, leave you ladies to it."

He practically skips out the room, leaving you red faced.

"That Eddie?" You nod, face red as a beetroot.

"He's grown up, hasn't he?"

You steer away from this line of questioning, mortified that he heard what you said.

"Only on the outside. You want a top up?" She agrees with a grin as you fill her glass up and she regales you with all the poolside gossip. When the bottle is done, she leaves with a wink, saying she'll keep your secret. If she only knew what that was.

Eddie's on cloud nine right now, bouncing up the stairs three at a time.

The best she's ever had. The best she's ever had.

It's in his mind, playing in a loop. His mantra, a quote that will live deep in his chest from now until forever after.

The best she's ever had.

He flings the door open and flounces into Sammy's room, banging a beer down on the bedside table.

"A beverage for you, good fellow!"

"Aha! Fine work m'lord!" Sammy twists the cap off, tossing it in the bin. Eddie does the same, twisting to face the waste paper basket, and takes a long swig.

"Eddie you dirty fuck."

He freezes, ice pouring down his spine. Spinning on his heel, he turns to face Sammy.

"What are you on about?" He asks, a fake smile masking the fear that had bottomed out in his stomach.

"I see the panties you've got in your back pocket, red ones. They're poking out! Dude, did you get lucky last night?" Sammy smirks, swigging his own beer.

He couldn't help himself. He swiped them when he was leaving. They were still wet, soaked with a mixture of his spit and your release. He'd sniffed them and got himself off twice this morning.

Chill out. Sammy's grinning. He's got no clue who they belong to.

Eddie relaxes and grins smugly back, laying on the floor, his back against the bed.

"Oh, you have no idea."

********************

Humming to yourself, you sort through the dirty clothes in the laundry room, separating darks and lights.

Your thoughts drift yet again to that messy haired rocker. His large hands, his tight torso, his dick. Fuck, his dick.

Shaking your head, you do what you can to rid your brain of your salacious thoughts, loading the washer a little more forcefully than you necessarily needed to.

You hear the unmistakable click of the door behind you. Not bothering to turn, you huff as you shut the washer lid with a bang.

"I swear to God Sammy if you need a shirt for tonight I've already-"

"Hey sweetheart."

Flipping to face the door, there he is. Arms folded across his slender chest, smug smirk spread stickly across his features, he stares at you.

"Eddie, you need to leave."

Your tone is stern, but your bottom lip disappears into your mouth, being nibbled at by your teeth.

"You sure? Thought you might wanna see me. You know, since I'm the best you ever had."

"Eddie shut the fuck up!" You hiss between your teeth, eyes flashing to the door.

"Sweetheart, Sammy's fallen asleep. He had a long night. You know what that's like."

"Eddie, that was a one time thing. God, it's not like this can go anywhere, so why are you here?"

Tapping your foot impatiently, he closes the gap between you, cornering you between the wall and the washing machine.

You want to be angry; to push him away and leave, but the pounding of your pulse between your legs betrays you.

As if he knows, he slots his leg between yours, denim clad thigh hovering near your throbbing heat, pushing your sundress up in the process.

"I know. Fuck, I'm well aware. I just wanna- help you out. Like, an arrangement" He smiles, knuckles reaching up to stroke your cheek.

"Eddie-"

Before you manage to form words, he's on his knees in front of you, large palms running over your bare thighs.

"Please."

That's all he says, wet doe eyes wide, gleaming up at you as if you were some sort of goddess and he was kneeling at your altar.

Eddie's begging to the old Gods and the new; fuck it, to anyone who might be listening. He wants you, with everything he has. Each fibre is burning for you. He thought it might go away after last night, but it was simply a taste. A drop of water doesn't quench an undying thirst.

This little sundress is doing nothing to sate his hunger for you. The flimsy material clings in all the right places, forcing his eyes to trail over your curves like a man starved.

Without a thought in your head, you wind your fingers into Eddie's hair, relishing the feel of his hot breath on your naked thighs. Guiding his head forward, you shudder as his lips trace across your flesh.

Eddie lifts your dress up, reaching desperately to pull your panties off and away before you change your mind. Slick sticking to them, he pulls them down, watching as they gradually peel from your core.

He sits on his heels, eyes flitting from your eyes to your cunt.

"Sweetheart, please. I just wanna- I wanna help you with your needs. Fuck, with my needs."

Nodding emphatically, you tug at his hair, drawing him in.

Eddie counts his blessings and dives straight at your pussy, lapping between the folds just like you taught him.

"Oh God" you moan aloud, then bite at your hand to stop your noises. Flicking one leg over his shoulder, you force his head as close as you can, nearly riding his face.

If anything, Eddie is a quick learner, at least when it comes to you.

His tongue is electric, hitting all of the right spots. He feels your cunt on his tongue, leaving hot and heavy licks. Running his hand up your thigh again, he presses his thumb against your clenching hole, wiggling into your slick drenched pussy.

"Eddie, yes!" You whisper, fingers pulling at his curls incessantly. Eyes rolling back, you rut your hips into him, on the brink of falling apart.

White hot light sears your eyelids as you come with a stifled cry, cunt undulating around his thick digit.

"Fuckfuckfuck!"

Yanking his head away from you by the roots of his hair, you cannot fail to hear the unmistakable moan that spills from his lips.

Eddie's staring up at you dumbfounded, as if you created the universe just for him.

Panting, you stare back down at him, his lips parted and shining with your orgasm.

"Eddie, holy hell."

He stands, wiping the slick from his face with the back of his hand, though it does nothing to remove the grin.

Against every better judgement, you grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, lips nearly touching.

"You- you can't tell anyone about this, OK? Not a soul, understood?"

If it were possible, his grin grows even wider, palm resting at your waist.

"I can be discreet." He whispers as he presses his lips to yours. Winding fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, tongue moving expertly between his parted lips to taste him, and you.

Eddie pulls away reluctantly.

"I better go."

As he moves to the door, hand hovering over the handle, you call out to him.

"Eddie, wait."

Turning his head, he looks at you.

"Sammy's seeing Tiff again tonight, and er, Johnny's still at his grandma's."

"Good to know." He winks and leaves. What you don't know is that he does a mini victory dance once the door is shut, fists pumping in the air with sheer joy.

He doesn't know how long this is going to last, but he'll take every single second he can get with you whilst you let him.

Taglist (just some likely candidates ;) )

@cursedyuta @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @rip-quizilla @emsgoodthinkin @josephquinnsfreckles @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eiightysixbaby @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @usedtobecooler @roanniom

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awfcspencer · 4 months

Text

Nine Months || leah williamson x reader

leah williamson x pregnant!reader

Part 1

prompt: The 9 months leading up to the arrival of your baby.

warnings: pregnancy, throwing up, self-doubt/anxiety, mentions of miscarriage, mostly fluff but a few instances of angst.

a/n: almost 7 thousand words of fluff

Month 1: Poppy Seed

Upon flipping the positive pregnancy test, your whole life suddenly felt fast, there felt like a million things you need to accomplish. You have having a baby. You quickly scheduled a prenatal appointment and the doctor told you that you were about 5 weeks pregnant. She prescribed you some vitamins and medications to help the baby grow properly and scheduled a few more future visits.

Leah had gone out and bought several pregnancy books. You joked with her that she had purchased out a whole bookstore when she brought home roughly about 13 books and there was no way she would actually read them. But she did read each one, thoroughly, even taking little notes on post-its and showing you passages she found interesting. One of the books she had bought had a little pregnancy growth chart, indicating your baby was about the size of a poppy seed, it was hard to imagine something so small. Every month she would tell you how big your baby was getting through the sizes of fruits, it always made you laugh. Almost every day you had to convince Leah not to buy something baby-related. You would be at the shops and she would see an outfit or a toy and plead with you that you had to buy it. When you weren’t looking she would place whatever it was in the cart and you wouldn’t notice until you got home.

You had experienced pretty typical symptoms, swollen breasts, mood swings, and nausea, but nothing too extreme. To be fair, it mostly just felt like you were on a month long period. But you now found yourself rubbing small circles on your stomach more often. Right before you and Leah would go to bed, she would always politely ask to put her hands on your belly. She wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable and you would always tell her that she really didn’t need to ask, she was also the baby’s mother, but every time without fail she would ask for permission. Leah would whisper small affirmations to your belly and sealed it with a kiss.

“Do you think the baby can hear you yet?” you ask her.

“One of the books I read says the baby can begin to hear sounds at around 18 weeks.” she quickly tells you, feeling satisfied in her knowledge that she got from all the reading she did.

“Oh, what a nerd” you jokingly say to her, hitting her with a plush pillow.

“Your nerd” she replies as she sends you a cheeky smile and a kiss.

“So corny,” you tell her, shaking your head slightly before dozing off to bed in her arms.

Month 2: Raspberry

Today’s appointment was one you and Leah had been crucially waiting for, circled on the calendar for weeks, today you would hear the baby’s heartbeat for the very first time. You had previously looked up pregnancy journeys to get an idea of what to expect and you knew that for some people, this is where some parents had found out that their sweet angel baby had passed. The thought was absolutely crushing and waved over your head as Leah drove you to the clinic, it was utterly terrifying. Since you had taken the IVF route, there was a higher possibility of having a miscarriage up until the second trimester. You tried to keep your cool and not tell Leah in fear that if you got the horrible news, would she blame you, would she hate you? Your hormones were all over the place and did not help you whatsoever so when it all bubbled over and you broke out in instant tears when you pulled into the parking lot, Leah knew something was wrong.

“Baby what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you in any pain?” she quickly asks as she turns to face you in the car, reaching out to hold you hand.

You try to answer her through your sobs, only being able to get out, “...You will hate me”

“Hey hey hey, I need you to calm down love. Breathe in and out okay?” she tells you as she over exaggerates her breathing to have you follow along. Her comforting soft voice and the physical contact of your hands, you manage to relax.

“I was online and loads of people say that this appointment can shows sign of birth defects or even if…” You can’t get yourself to finish the sentence, not even wanting to possibly speak it into existence. But Leah knows what you are talking about, she’s done her research too, she’s read about this appointment, she knows the news you could hear.

“Look at me”, she pulls your lowered head up by your chin, “Whatever happens in there, we will weather it together okay? I could never, ever, hate you. You are the bravest and strongest person I know and the courage it has taken for you to go through this process is already enough for me. I’m sure baby is perfect, just like her mother.” Her words put you a little at ease, this was something neither one of you had ever done, it was scary but also you knew it would eventually be the best thing to ever happen to the both of you.

Once you had managed to calm down a bit more, thanks to Leah’s perfect ability to know exactly what to say, you walked into the appointment with high hopes.

The female doctor was kind, asking you questions on how everything was and if there were any problems. On the table, you and Leah held hands, needing to be as close to her as you could. The time had come and the doctor warned you that the gel would be cold. You squeezed Leah’s hand tighter.

The next few seconds felt like forever, a lifetime, desperately waiting to hear the pitter-patter of a heartbeat. And then it came. A strong heartbeat was music to your ears. Your baby’s heartbeat. Tears brimmed in your eyes as did Leah’s, it was the most perfect and beautiful sound. You wish you could burn it on a CD and listen to it forever, luckily, Leah had recorded it on her phone so you could replay it any time you wanted.

“See baby, it’s perfect” she beamed. For Leah, this was incredibly special. She was sat with the love of her life listening to their baby’s heartbeat. The moment was perfect, just the three of you. A healthy baby was all she could ask for.

Month 3: Lime

For the third straight morning in a row, you had woken up to overwhelming nausea and was sat hunched over the toilet throwing up. If anything, it was mostly just annoying, but every time you though about how much you hated having morning sickness, you quickly reminded yourself that you were growing a full baby, your baby. Leah had started to become a light sleeper when you initially realized you were expecting, wanting to be ready for anything at all times. So when you felt a body come behind you to rub your back and hold your hair, you knew it was Leah.

“Baby you are doing so well” she coos as you once again throw up, her long fingernails run up and down your back, trying her best to soothe you. Your sore everywhere, your breasts continue to get bigger and more tender, your lower back now aches constantly, and you have to pee more often than you ever have. But you knew it was worth it, willing to do it a hundred times over.

Each morning you woke up sick, Leah would try to stay home from training, but each time you would convince her to go, explaining you and baby were fine and you promised you would call if you needed anything. At this point, you and Leah were the only two to know, keeping it just the two of you for a little bit, enjoying the journey together. Leah had secretly told an Arsenal staff member that exchanged numbers with you to text or call in case anything happened.

At one of your appointments, Leah had asked for an extra ultrasound of your baby so she could put in her locker in the changing room. Her teammates had asked about it, telling them it was a future cousin. If they had taken a second to look closer, they would have seen your name at the top. She liked having a piece of her future baby near her, spurring her on to play better, practice harder.

This was also the month when you finally let Leah go crazy and buy more things for the baby. You just didn’t expect Leah to buy so much, receiving a package almost every day. You were sure the postman had your address memorized with how often he was there. But you can’t deny that the tiny outfits or booties weren’t absolutely adorable and increased your already high need for the baby to arrive. Since you and Leah had not found out the gender yet, most of the stuff was necessities or gender-neutral things.

One day after training, Leah ran into the house screaming for you to close your eyes. Doing so, she places something in your hands.

“Open”

A small Arsenal baby kit with the last name Williamson across the back along with a small number 6.

“Awe baby! When did you get this?” you asked holding up the small jersey. It was so tiny but one day your baby would be wearing it, and your heart swelled.

“I told the man working it was for a family member, fresh off the press today.” she smiled.

“It’s perfect” giving her a kiss and pulling her down so she could massage your achy shoulders, “Love you baby,” you told her as her strong hands helped relieve some of the tension.

Month 4: Sweet Potato

The beginning of your second trimester was relieving as most miscarriages occur in the first trimester, so you were passed one of the scary humps. Your morning sickness had thankfully passed, a godsend really. One thing that had dramatically increased was your very quick mood changes and your emotions. You found yourself snapping at Leah when you really didn’t mean to, but she was always slow with you, understanding it was just a matter of hormones and you didn't mean to get angry. You also had a bad case of pregnancy forgetfulness, you would say something one second and completely forget it the next.

“Leah I do not want pizza for dinner, I said I wanted Nando’s” you angrily say to her, thinking she never listens to you, quickly becoming agitated.

“Babe you told me like maybe 10 minutes ago that you wanted to order pizza in. Do you want me to cancel it and order something different?” Leah pinches the bridge of her nose, clearly stressed out trying to figure out what to get for dinner since you had suddenly changed your mind.

“I never said that! Great now you are mad at me” Tears begin to brim, begging to fall from your eyes. You really thought you had said you wanted Nando’s but now you can’t remember, did you say you wanted pizza?

“I am not mad love, I just want to make sure you and baby eat.” Reaching for her phone as she orders online from Nando’s getting your favorite without even having to ask, knowing you like the back of her hand.

“God why are you always so sweet. I’m trying to be mad at you” you tell her. She doesn’t have to respond, rather pulling you in for a hug as she wipes your tears. She carries you over to the couch to relax before the food gets here, putting on a show that the both of you have been binge watching.

Baby was growing each day and you were starting to show slightly. It was honestly crazy, it was one of the surreal moments where you really thought about how you were carrying a human inside you, it was beautiful. Both you and Leah figured that now was a good time to start telling family and close friends.

You started with Leah’s parents and her brother first, gathering them around your house for a family dinner. Dressed in an oversized jumper and sweats, nobody could really tell you were pregnant unless they knew you were. After everyone had finished eating, you and Leah announced you had a gift for them. She placed the perfectly wrapped package on the table and Leah stood behind you and placed her head on your shoulder as you watched them open it.

Inside was the same small Arsenal kit that Leah had bought. You could tell Amanda knew immediately but wanted to give the boys a chance to figure it out.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think this might be a couple sizes to small” Jacob bluntly states, laughter filling the room as Amanda hit him in the back of the head.

David had put the pieces together a few seconds later and had gotten up to congratulate the both of you as Amanda did the same, both had gotten emotional which made you get emotional and then Leah emotional, a happy emotional though.

“Oh I’m so excited” Amanda beams smiling with tears in her eyes. By now Jacob had finally realized and said his round of congratulations, telling the both of you that he calls ‘the fun uncle’, causing both of you to chuckle.

Telling your family went roughly the same, your parents sending congratulations and wishings, discussing each way they were going to spoil the baby when they arrive.

Next up was the Arsenal girls. You and Leah thought back and forth on how you wanted to tell them, trying to figure out the best way. You both had settled on getting each of the girls little plaques that had their names with the word ‘aunt’ written in front of it. Leah had gotten all the girls together at lunch and announced that you would be joining them, which was not untypical for you. The girls all loved you and enjoyed when you were around. Walking in with the bags of gifts, the girls immediately greet you.

“Leah your missus is glowing, way out of your league” the irish woman yells at Leah when you make your appearance. Leah quickly slaps her upside the head and pulls you in for a quick hug and kiss.

“Always lovely to see you McCabe” you send her a smile as she returns the smile.

Leah explains that you had brought them all something and they light up like a kid on Christmas. With Leah’s help, you pass them all out and tell them to open them when everyone had one.

There was a moment of silence as they opened the gifts and then chaos ensued, questions thrown at you and Leah, everyone talking over themselves.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Beth asks. You simply smile back and nod your head.

"Wait! Is the ultrasound on your locker your baby?" Steph asks as you both nod your head, Leah grinning from ear to ear.

All the girls suddenly rush to you, pulling you in a few directions trying to give you hugs or feel your belly. You really didn’t mind, you knew they were all just excited.

Leah’s yells of telling everyone to be careful or backup went unanswered.

“EVERYONE BACK UP” She yells as she now has the attention of the girls as they do as she says.

“Are you okay baby?” she quickly asks to make sure and you reassure her that you are perfect.

Her protectiveness has increased dramatically since you started to tell people. She would never let you lift anything too heavy and would much rather her do everything. She set clear boundaries when people asked to touch your belly, always assuring people that they needed to ask you, and if you ever wanted to say no or felt uncomfortable you would tell her and she would fix it. You find her protectiveness cute, and annoying at times, but mostly cute.

The girls come in small clusters up to you and you chat with every single one of them, all of them talking about babysitting, play dates, asking you questions about pregnancy and such. They were all so lovely and you were blessed that you would be raising a baby with the Arsenal girls as their role models.

Arriving home, you were dead tired, a long day on your feet and socializing. Leah helped you do your skincare as you were basically falling asleep at the sink, but not long after you were in bed. Leah was in the middle of talking to your stomach when you felt the baby kick you. At first, it didn’t register to you, but now you were suddenly awake.

“Lee the baby just kicked” you tell her, grabbing her hand to show her where you felt the kick. It took a few seconds before the baby inside your belly kicked again, but now Leah felt the kick.

“They just kicked my hand” she yells, obviously excited. For a few minutes, the baby would kick every so often before stopping for the rest of the night.

“Looks like we got a future striker in here” you jokingly tell her, knowing it will rile her up.

“No way, they will be playing defense, that’s where it is at.” She says so asserting that you can only tilt your head back and laugh. Your back is parallel with her chest, as she places a kiss on your head and whispers ‘Good night love’ in your ear. You were now about halfway through your pregnancy.

Month 5: Ear of Corn

Throughout your whole pregnancy, you and Leah both had talked about whether you guys wanted a boy or a girl. Thankfully, you were both in agreeance that all you wanted was a healthy baby, the gender did not matter, and you both would be happy either way.

For the next appointment, you had invited Amanda so the doctor could tell her the gender and she could begin to plan the gender reveal party. At every appointment, whenever you got the chance to hear the baby's heartbeat, you would soak in each second of the beautiful sound. The doctor told you that the baby was developing well and that the baby had begun to grow hair. Baby was very active now, kicking more often and it felt like they were doing backflips on your blatter every few hours.

"Do you want to know the gender?" the doctor asked.

Both of you screamed "No" very quickly, shocking the doctor a bit.

"Sorry, no, we want to do a gender reveal later. You can tell my mom though, she will be planning the whole thing." The doctor told Amanda privately and then you all left the clinic to get food. Your cravings now ran rampant and you were always hungry, obviously now eating for two.

You began to get impatient waiting for the day of the party to arrive, often times you thought about simply calling Amanda and demanding she tell you, but each time you talked yourself out of it.

The day had finally arrived, surrounded by your family, Leah's family, her Arsenal and England teammates, and other close friends piled into your backyard. The sun was shining and everyone talked among themselves. You were mostly the star of the party, everyone vying to speak with you or feel your belly, but you wanted Leah to feel important too, this was her baby shower as well. You wanted her right next to you at all times, having her answer some of the questions shot at you.

About an hour into the party, you started to get a bit overwhelmed, lots of curious hands on you, and your social battery was dying by the minute and Leah was off with a few of her teammates. You just needed a few seconds to collect yourself so you escaped off to the baby's room. You and Leah had been working piece by piece setting up the room, late nights spent building furniture and then rebuilding it when Leah wouldn't listen to you when you tried to tell her instructions. A small lion stuffed animal that Amanda had bought out at the shops one day sat in the middle of the bassinet. She had said that Leah had an identical one when she was a baby and the thought made your eyes swell with tears whenever you thought about it.

"You all good? I saw you sneak out and head up here." a voice you recognized as Alessia asked. You and Alessia had gotten quite close when she moved into your home for a few months when she first transferred to Arsenal. She was absolutely lovely to be around and she was like a sister to you.

You turn towards her with red-rimmed eyes and you can tell the poor girl is immediately stressed, quickly saying, "Do you want me to grab Leah?"

"No I'm okay Less, I just needed a few minutes from the craziness outside," you tell her as she pulls you in for a hug. You trust Alessia so you relax into her arms. The baby kicks inside your belly, almost as if they knew Aunt Less was near.

"The baby just kicked, here give me your hand." Reaching out to grab her hand and place it on your stomach, the baby kicked her hand.

"No way!" she exclaimed. "A future England number 9 in there."

"Oh please do not let Leah hear that, she has insisted the baby will play defense." you laughed out.

Walking back down with Alessia, you were told the reveal was soon. Amanda had a cake made the color blue or pink inside when you cut into it. Leah gathers everyone around as you take place behind the cake, Leah coming to your side after.

"1, 2, 3" Amanda yelled out as you cut into the cake together, each holding a piece of the knife. The cake was a light shade of pink inside.

"It's a girl!" Leah shouted out as she jumped up and down and pulled you in for a searing hug and kiss. A little baby girl. Once again, you were in tears, the pregnancy hormones never took a break.

"A baby girl!" you said.

The rest of the party had gone swimmingly, everyone raving about a little baby girl. Kyra spent a lot of time trying to convince you and Leah to name the little girl after her, claiming it was the best name possible and all you could do was laugh at her valiant effort. Alessia and Ella argued over who would be the best aunt and Viv and Beth were talking about how Myle would love the baby. Your little girl already had so many people who cared for her.

Month 6: Head of Lettuce

At this point in your pregnancy, everything had really gone according to plan. Your growing girl was hitting every milestone and the doctor assured you both that she was healthy and that at this point, her eyebrows and eyelashes had fully developed. The dreaded Braxton Hicks contractions began at the beginning of month 6. They were like painful squeezing of your uterus or abdomen but they never lasted too long and most of the time you had Leah right next to you to guide you through them. They were a bit similar to period cramps.

You weren't completely bedridden yet either, but your belly had grown significantly which made tasks such as seeing your feet or bending over particularly difficult. Your sleep had also been disrupted as you were still getting up in the middle of the night to pee. Cuddling also got a bit difficult but you and Leah managed to make it work. After long days, Leah would stand behind you and carefully lift your belly up to relieve some of the tension in your lower back.

"Baby, I am going to set her back down, is that okay?" she asks as you shake your head in agreement.

Each month, Leah would take a Polaroid of you and place it in a scrapbook she had been making to show your baby girl one day. The scrapbook was filled with ultrasound photos, and wristbands from the hospitals, and had room for when baby girl made her arrival.

Leah had taken the initiative and signed you both up for courses such as a Lamaze class. The class was to help you with breathing techniques and relaxation. In class, you were the only same-sex couple but everyone welcomed you and some even asked about the IVF process which you were happy to answer.

The teacher had you and Leah sit on a yoga mat with your back to her chest as you practiced different breathing processes. The class helped you and Leah learn a lot and prepared you for the scary nature of childbirth. Especially with Leah by your side, you knew you would be supported, and she took the classes very seriously, asking questions and taking notes to look back at when the time came.

When a particular Braxton Hick rattled through your body one night as you both lay on the couch, Leah held your hand and guided your breathing like she learned in class. When it eventually passed, you thanked her and she simply insisted there was no need.

The past months have gone rather quickly, time was flying by as you were now on the last turn before giving birth. The baby's room was now painted a light shade of grey and all of the furniture had been built. While you were excited for her to come, were you actually ready? ready to be a mother?

It all came to the forefront one night as Leah finished up talking to your bump.

"Lee? Have you ever thought maybe you won't be a good mom?" you asked in almost a whisper tone, hopefully, low enough maybe she wouldn't even hear you. But she definitely heard you.

"Love, you will be the best mother. I see how you interact with children in both of our families, they love you, and they cling to you. You have this careful nature about you and I wouldn't trust anyone else on earth with a baby than you." Leah pleads with you, wanting you to help those thoughts leave your brain.

"I needed that Lee, thank you"

"Whenever you feel that way, I want you to communicate with me, tell me how you are feeling okay? I will always be here to help." She sweetly says. You can tell she really means what she says. She understood your thoughts entirely, feeling the same way at times but she would take on her own advice and talk to you when she felt that way and you would help ease her nerves and reiterate how great of a mother she will be.

Each night she would rub your back until your breathing evens out and she knows you are asleep. Pulling your body as close to her as she could. Dreaming each night of different things she can't wait to experience as a mom, and you did the same.

Month 7: Papaya

While Leah had genuinely bought every baby product you could possibly think of, she insisted that she plan you a baby shower, wanting to hit all the major highlights of being pregnant. You secretly thanked her for it. Your home was decked out in pink decorations as family and close friends entered your home. A simple late lunch and keeping things very casual was how you wanted to spend the day. You and Leah had said on the invites that you didn't need much but that you wanted everyone to bring a book as a card and write a little note to your baby girl to eventually read one day.

The Arsenal girls piled in with several gift bags, obviously not listening. Almost every single player had purchased a small kit with their number on the back so she could wear them when she came to the games, arguing over whose jersey she would wear more.

Steph and Caitlin had purchased several small kangaroo plushies and claimed that one day you all had to visit Australia with the baby. Lotte had made the baby a little blanket herself with the Arsenal red and white colors, she was incredibly talented and you knew it would get good use. The girls had absolutely spoiled baby girl and your heart couldn't be more full. As usual, the conversation about what position in football the baby would be playing came up once again, with Katie and Beth claiming she would teach her how to score an absolute banger of goals.

The day was very relaxing and the baby was very active as most girls got to feel her kick. At the baby shower, you played a little game and found that most of the girls held a baby like a football so you had to properly teach them, you could tell Leah's eyes were threatening to beam out of her head thinking about some of them holding your precious baby.

Eventually, Leah kicked everyone out of your shared home as she could tell you were getting tired. The rest of the night was spent relaxing on the couch and picking at leftovers from the shower.

In the coming days, you and Leah spent time trying to figure out the perfect name. Naming a baby was hard, she would have this name for the rest of her life, and it was overwhelming. You bounced around ideas back and forth.

"Emily?" you ask.

"No"

"Hanna?"

"No"

"Okay Leah maybe you throw out some ideas since you say no to all of mine" you laugh out.

"What about Stella? Like the star, since she was like a wish upon a star."

"I love Stella, Stella Amanda Williamson" you stated, revealing your intention to name her after an amazing woman.

You have known for a long time how important Leah's mother was to her and you knew you wanted to incorporate it into your baby girl's name. Leah thought about it but only wanted to do it if you were comfortable with it but hadn't mentioned it yet. Amanda was an important figure in your life too and you loved her just as much as Leah.

"You want to use Amanda as her middle name?" she asked to clarify she heard you right and you nodded back to her. Leah's emotions take over her as she breaks out in tears.

"Oh baby, it's perfect," she says through cries. "I am just so happy, happy tears."

Leaning down to your belly she says, "Stella Amanda Williamson. Stella after the star that I wished on for you to come, and Amanda for your amazing grandmother who will love you endlessly." sealing it with a kiss. You and Leah would keep the secret of her name until she was born.

Month 8: Watermelon

Your body had changed drastically at this point. You felt massive in every sense of the word. Your belly had grown significantly and little stretch marks outlined the top of your stomach. Your feet were in a constant state of swelling and that is when you could even barely see them through a mirror. You were tired all the time, sleeping was even worse as you could never get comfortable, and you were in a constant state of soreness.

You were supposed to be getting ready to go out for a dinner date with Leah since you knew that when the baby girl arrived you would be very busy, wanting to relish in just you and Leah time. Most of your clothes no longer fit so you typically sported a comfy jumper and sweats, so you didn't know what to wear for tonight. All of your clothes felt too tight and you felt utterly ugly.

"Baby are you almost ready" Leah asked as she peered her head into the room to find you sobbing in front of the mirror with just your bra and underwear on.

"Hey hey hey, what's the matter?" immediately coming to your side.

"Nothing fits and I look ugly!" you scream out. Your body no longer felt like yours, all these changes happening, it was like an out-of-body experience. "I'm constantly swollen, my breasts are huge and they hurt, I look and feel massive."

Leah didn't feel the need to answer. She simply bent down and leveled her head with your stomach. She placed a soft kiss on every single one of the narrow, streak-like lines that had developed.

"You're growing a baby love. Your body is growing to change. You have never looked so beautiful to me, a goddess might I add." She kissed every inch of your body in a non-sexual way. She kissed your chest and stated, "These are growing because they will be feeding our baby love."

"Thank you baby," you told her.

"How about we order in and watch a movie? How does that sound?" she asked.

"Sounds perfect" as you threw on some comfy clothes.

Month 9: Pumpkin

The last month had finally come and Leah took her last Polaroid picture, 9 photos of your growing belly, you could barely remember being so small in your first few months. Most of your days were spent on the couch watching trashy reality TV because the doctor advised you to spend less time on your feet.

Each day you had to basically shove Leah out of your shared home to go to training, promising you would call if you needed absolutely anything. Since the Arsenal team was made aware, the girls would ask questions about you almost every day and Leah was always happy to answer, she loved talking about her little family.

The Braxton Hicks had increased dramatically, and they were now more painful and lasted longer. I mean your body was gearing up to deliver a baby.

You and Leah had mapped out a plan with every instance in the thought process, if you were to go into labor at home, at a game, or when you were out. You had Amanda and your mom on speed dial as the days got closer to your due date.

This morning you woke up to a lot of pain but you assumed it was normal and continued with your morning routine and said goodbye to Leah as she left.

Sat on the couch, you felt a sudden rush of wetness between your legs. You knew it was time. The pain in your lower abdomen increased as the contractions began. You quickly called Amanda and explained your situation as she got into her car and came to your home.

"Love where are you?" she asked as she walked in.

"In here," you say through another painful contraction. She is immediately at your side, holding your hand, and guiding you through it.

Through a breath of pain, you say, "Call Leah."

She helps you to the car and grabs your to-go bags as she gets in contact with Leah and tells her to meet you guys at the hospital. She also thankfully called your parents and informed them, telling her they were on their way.

The drive to the hospital felt forever, in and out of pain, but thankfully you had arrived and got set up in your room and connected to a few devices that measured your heart rate, blood pressure, and contractions.

Back at the Arsenal training grounds, Kelly had pulled Leah aside and told her the news. Leah ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, throwing things in her kit bag as she tried to leave quickly.

"We're having a baby!" she yelled around the changing room. Luckily Lia was levelheaded and threw Leah in her car and drove her to the hospital as all of the girls yelled out good wishes and to send photos when she arrived.

A prayer was answered as Leah walked into the room, another painful jab hitting. She is at your side, clutching your hand, and reciting the breathing techniques she has learned from the classes.

Unlike the movies depict, labor was not quick by any means. Rotating between carefully squatting on a yoga ball and taking laps up and down the hallway, all with Leah by your side, telling you how strong you were. It hurt her to see you in so much pain, so she tried to be as helpful as she could. At times you would snap at her but then the next second you would need her close by. She kneaded your sore skin, paying attention to your lower back as it was in the most pain.

The doctor had come in periodically to check how dilated you were and after about 6 hours in labor, she told you that you were now ready to push. Leah helped you get situated on the bed and helped peal your legs up to begin pushing. Amanda and your mom left the room, you and Leah both wanted to experience just the two of you. By this point, your body was incredibly tired, having no energy to even think.

"Baby are you ready?" she asked with her soft voice.

"I'm tired Lee. I can't do it." you sobbed out to her. Your eyes wanted to close, you wanted to sleep, worn out from pain.

"Baby I know, but you need to push. Baby girl wants to come out." she could tell you were tired, she felt for you, and her heart hurt.

You pushed, mentally and physically, through the pain with Leah by your side, wiping your face with a cold rag every so often and telling you how amazing you were. Each push made progress and baby girl was making her entrance into the world. After what felt like hours of pushing, which was only really roughly about 20 minutes in reality, a loud cry filled the room. Baby girl has arrived. You and Leah both cry out, you had done it. The doctor and nurse together clean her off and she continues to cry, she sure has some strong lungs. You and Leah had told the nurse you wanted skin-to-skin contact when she came so the nurse carefully placed her on your skin, immediately calming down as she heard your voice.

"Hi baby" you sob out. Looking down at the most perfect baby in the world, she had Leah's nose and your ears, she was perfect. Leah was now staring at the two most important people in life. You look up at her and pat down at the side of the bed, wanting her to lie down and you tell her to take off her top to do skin-to-skin contact.

Leah quickly removes her top and lies down as you place Stella on her chest. All Leah can do is silently sob as she stares at your daughter, she can recognize Leah's voice from all the times Leah talked to her before bed.

"Hello Stella"

The nurse had gone through diaper changing and walked you through breastfeeding as you fed Stella for the first time. Wrapped in a pink blanket with a little pink hat on, you had Leah grab both sets of parents. She was weary at first, not wanting to overwhelm you, I mean you quite literally just gave birth and she knew they would all want to hold her, maybe Leah also didn't want to share Stella just yet. But you convinced her you were both okay and welcomed them in.

"She's here" is all Leah says out to the hallway as they make their way in. Leah took her seat back on the bed as you held Stella.

"Oh, she's beautiful" Amanda coos. Your parents and hers check on both you and Leah before you hand your mother her.

"She's perfect you guys." Your mother says as she cries, you can also tell your dad has tears in his eyes but he is stationed at your side, checking you out with his eyes to make sure his baby girl is okay, David and your father each check on their children as Leah talks to her dad about how everything went. Amanda is now holding her as she asks her name.

"Stella Amanda Williamson" Leah says as Amanda cries more. The room was mostly focused on passing her around and taking pictures. Your heart felt full, a very emotional day, but every second was worth it. Stella had begun to cry after a few and when your mom placed her in your arms, she settled down. Most of the day was spent feeding her every few hours and changing her. You also had pumped milk into a bottle so that Leah could feed her too. Stella was absolutely perfect, everything you could imagine and more. You and Leah were parents. A wish come upon a star, a wish come true.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #woso couples #arsenal women #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #awfc #arsenal wfc

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

Text

“Thought you might like this.”

Nico turns the thin plastic casing over in his hands. It catches the limited light from the one open window, refracting a burst of rainbow across the shadowy ceiling.

“What…is it?”

“Mixtape.” Will rocks back on his heels, hands swinging slightly at his sides. He hums idly, flicking his gaze across the room faster than Nico can track. Distracted. “Songs ‘n stuff.”

Contrary to popular belief, Nico knows what a mixtape is. CDs as well, for that matter. In fact he distinctly remembers when they came out — the transition from cassette to CD was a triumphant one. Way easier for him to save his game processes and transfer to new machines as they came. (He wonders, idly, what happened to his stack of CDs left at the Lotus. Are they still there, standing alone in his half of the room? Next to his dresser, across from Bianca’s coin and token collection? Is there enough dust in that standstill place to cover the entire living space in a thick blanket of forgotten memory?)

“I can see that, Solace. I meant — why.”

“Because!” Solace gestures grandly, hands fluttering in some particular way that means nothing, really; just accentuates his wide grin, his twinkling eyes. The rocking he’s constantly doing, back and forth, back and forth, the twitching of his fingers. Electrons on a wire. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a radio or anything, right? Figured you might have a couple years to catch up on. Might be fun.”

Nico turns the CD case over again in his hand, peripherally aware of the shifting rainbows, still, reflecting off Will’s hair now, dying it redgreengold. There’s sharpie scrawled across the surface, completely illegible except for the plethora of exclamation points, the doodle of a cat, and the chain of flowers drawn carefully around the edge.

Will is smiling so, so brightly.

“Thank you,” Nico says quietly. He clears his throat, looking away. “I’ll, um. I’ll listen to it. Tonight.”

“Great!” Will chirps. “I got lots more, I’ll stop by after my shift and you can tell me what you liked. That way you can have more input on karaoke night.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna —”

“See you tomorrow! Write down what you think!”

“— do that.”

Nico returns his parting wave helplessly, watching as he sprints down the stairs and then, for no discernible reason, cartwheels three times on his way across the common. Immediately upon righting himself he walks into a (thankfully unlit) brazier and goes sprawling, calling out, to no one, I’m okay! and bounding back off.

“How are you alive,” Nico mutters to himself. He turns back to the CD case, running his thumb across the edges. He notices, for the first time, the hearts that have been drawn along the clasps. A smile pushes its way across his face no matter how hard he tries to fight it back.

When he plays it that night, lying on his bed with his headphones tucked over his ears and his Walkman resting on his stomach, the first song is Walking on Sunshine.

He can’t fight back a smile then, either.

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manicpixiefelix · 5 months

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 5.

Summary: Reader, Oliver, and the mortifying ordeal of being known. Plus clubbing, costume parties, and Oliver being a fucking tease.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: drinking/intoxication/drug use

A/N: 3148 words. now we're cooking with gas, folks! i might be too sleepy for a real author's note, but just know, as always, its unedited and i love you. have fun, please let me know what you think!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Can I be bold for a minute?" On the roof of one of the dorm buildings, you and Oliver are waiting for Felix. It's twilight, the sky painted lavender by the setting sun and encroaching night, and everything feels a little dreamy.

"If anyone would appreciate boldness, Ollie, it's me," you tell him blithely around the cigarette you're trying to light. Still, he's quiet for this one moment, watching the way you cup your hand around the little flame to shield it from the wind.

"How did you and Farleigh ever get so close, considering how he treats you?"

You're pretty sure you know why he's asking you, considering what few interactions he'd witnessed between yourself and Farleigh, but it's still unexpected coming from him. For a moment, your gaze flicks to him, eyes narrowed, not quite sure what to make of the interaction. When your gaze meets his, he's looking at you with that intent, inquisitive look he got in moments like these, moments he seemed to fish for information without seeming like that was what he was doing. The silence and look that you level at him seem to throw him off guard, and immediately he drops his gaze to his feet, swinging off the edge of the building.

"That is bold," you finally settle on, watching Oliver fidget. His ankles cross, his shoulders slump; again he makes himself as small as possible. You deliberately make your tone lighter when you continue, "what's got you worried 'bout me an Farleigh?"

"I mean, all I'm saying is that he was being nasty to you, but now you're both kind of acting like he wasn't."

It's true; since his apology that Sunday morning Farleigh had been keeping his word about not being too bitter about Oliver to or even around you and Felix. You, in turn, made a special effort to spend time with him, pay him attention, made him feel like your priority on occasion. Both you and Farleigh were well aware of what you were doing, but he always enjoyed your company and attention, so it wasn't like he was going to complain.

"Farleigh and I understand each other."

"He slept with your girlfriend."

"India's not my girlfriend."

"He- he keeps calling you a dog."

That hit a nerve. You hadn't realised he was paying attention to that back at the pub. You swallow hard and look out at the horizon.

"And?" Raising the cigarette to your lips again, you don't look at him as you take a very long drag on it, "there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," you breathe out with the smoke.

"Doesn't seem like the way friends should talk about each other is all," Oliver says quietly, notes of apology in his voice; you can see him looking at you again out of the corner of your eye.

"Best friend, actually," you finally sigh, letting the tension drop from your shoulders and the moment. As you look at him over your shoulder, you give a faint smile in the face of his confusion, "we've known each other long enough that we can say pretty much anything we want to each other. Only problem is that Farleigh knows that pushing my buttons also pushes Fi's buttons, which is why he does it so often. He's a shit-stirrer, but you haven't known us long enough to know he doesn't really mean it," you tell him with surprising fondness in your voice.

"I'm sorry for prying," Oliver says earnestly, and you smile wider.

"I'm sorry for being so defensive; I realise how it must look from the outside."

Before anything else can be said, the door to the roof bursts open, and Felix greets you both with a hundred-watt smile and a packet of fish and chips in his hands. You descend on him like a seagull, swapping your cigarette for the hot food, tearing into the paper wrapping and settling by the wall at the edge of the roof near Oliver once more.

There's a beat where Felix is watching you and Oliver, his smile soft and fond and endeared, but there's something in his eyes that's been there since that lunched they'd shared at the pub -

"I shouldn't say -" there's a lot of things Felix shouldn't do that he does anyways. Considering his wealth, he could get away with a lack of self control, "I just genuinely didn't know, I mean I might have guessed- did you know?"

"Know what, Fi?" You're still in his bed, bleary-eyed and desperately wanting to go back to sleep when he'd come back from the pub buzzing instead of tired, as he'd predicted.

He'd spent the better part of the afternoon with his head on your chest, explaining the almost Dickensian tragedy that was Oliver's life. Sure you were listening, but you didn't have much to contribute other than faint noises of interest while your fingers carded through his hair.

There's something about the way Felix recounts all this information to you, the way he finds it salacious and heart-breaking all in one. You can hear in his voice that he'd captivated, that he's endeared by the struggle that has followed Oliver throughout his life. As much as you loved him, you'd watched time and again the way he'd fall for tragic tales and the people who'd recount them; Felix had a saviour complex, and it was the only thing the two of you had ever fought about.

Last year it had been Eddie, the worst of the bunch so far. Like Oliver but in the opposite direction; too much, too loud, too confident to hide his ugly secrets and desperation to be wanted. Eddie had been Icarus, taking for granted the wax wings Felix had given him, the good life, attention, a comrade who almost understood him. But he'd played with fire, played with Venetia too many times, and the wax wings melted. Not that you'd cared; you were the one who spotted them, you were the one that told Farleigh, you were the one who listened to Felix's furious rants every few days for the rest of that Summer. You'd never liked Eddie like Felix liked Eddie.

Oliver was different. You wondered if he was different enough.

Still, as much as you liked Oliver you could see it in Felix's eyes, hear it in his voice; he was already getting himself addicted to the idea of how much better he could make Oliver's life. But Felix had hated it the last time you'd pointed something like that out.

("Then why the fuck would I keep you around? Maybe it's because I don't pick my friends based on whether they're charity cases!")

So you keep your mouth shut. Maybe it's worth it for the way Felix smiles -

"I don't -" Oliver's fidgeting when Felix asks him to tag along to a costume party, "have anything to wear, really," he admits. Immediately Felix is offering to let him borrow something. There's a flicker that looks almost hungry in Oliver's eyes amid the gratefulness, and you wonder if he knows how many people would kill to get into Felix's pants. Still, he's humble, "you don't have to do that."

"I don't have to do anything," Felix shrugs with the easiest smile in the world. Then, in the next sentence, completely glossing over the act of kindness he looks at you, "tell me you aren't still expecting Farleigh to commit to that devil costume with you."

"He told me he'd put effort in this year -"

"He tells you that every year," Felix laughs, and you lean into Oliver's shoulder to explain.

"Me and Farleigh always organise to go to one costume party per year as an angel and a devil -"

"And every year," Felix rolls his eyes with a good-natured exasperation, "Farleigh wears some vulgar t-shirt and two party hats for horns, while Y/N puts weeks of effort in and wins best dressed every time-"

"Not every time," you protested, while Oliver looked faintly impressed, leaning back against you too.

"The only times you haven't won best dressed was if there was no competition to win," Felix points out, before looking past you to Oliver with an amused smile, "so I can't promise you a Y/N-level of costume, but it'll be more than two party hats."

"If you wanna give me two party hats, I'll wear 'em," Oliver says, hands coming up as if to placate the both of you. Instead, you grin wider, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"We'll make you all pretty, Ollie, don't worry."

Unsurprisingly, on the night of the party, Farleigh showed up to 'get ready' at your dorm, which meant him lazing on your bed, drinking and sharing his coke with you while you put arguably too much effort into your makeup. He, of course, is wearing two party hats, and t-shirt that simply says 'EASY', and though you pretend to be annoyed for all of five minutes, he gives a shit eating grin as you chew him out.

"Fool you once, shame on me, sure; fool you six times, that's on you, Y/N."

You flipped him off with a grin.

"There they are!" India cheers from the sofas where your other friends are gathered when you arrive to the party. Farleigh, on your arm, makes a show of his entrance, "not you, Farleigh, obviously." India rolls her eyes, but thankfully Farleigh wasn't too put out. Instead, he swans towards the group to claim a seat.

"Give us a spin, angel," Annabel insists with a coy smile, and you oblige her to the whistles and cheers of the rest of your friends.

"You outdo yourself," Felix told you fondly as you dropped into a beanbag by the sofa he and Oliver had been occupying.

Felix is looking at you, that kind of dangerous look when he thinks you're especially hot and there's only a thirty percent chance that the two of you will even make it to a dark corner. For just a moment, however, your gaze flicks to Oliver, by his side, and he's watching Felix too, absolutely rapt by the way your best friend looks at you.

"Only in comparison to Farleigh," you shake your head, forcing yourself to be Felix's self restraint, especially so early in the night, "besides, look at you; you've certainly grown into this since I last saw you try it on," and you leaned forward as best you could, looking across the circle of friends to the pretty, redhead in the slinky nurse outfit, "how fucking good does Felix look, Annabel?" You ask pointedly, and you can see Felix give a restrained chuckle before turning his attention to his own not-girlfriend, who seemed glad for the chance to gush about him.

Sitting back, you chance a glance once more at Oliver, and somehow aren't surprised to see him looking back at you. All you do is smirk, well aware of what you were doing.

Felix's clothes are too big on Oliver. The costume, though you're not exactly sure what he's meant to be, kind of wears him instead of the other way around. Felix, of course, looks all kinds of gorgeous as a police officer, while Oliver looked rather like he's wearing his big brother's hand-me-downs. But he's rolls up the sleeves and always looks up at Felix with these blue, doe eyes shining with gratefulness, and no-one else cares enough to comment either way.

You wonder if anyone else has noticed, the way Oliver's personality changes with his focus. It's not in large ways, perhaps others think its like a trick of the light, but the way he looks at others, the way he behaves, it seems to vary from person to person. Tactile, distant, closed off, hesitant, open, honest, warm, skittish, never truly the same with each individual. It's like he watches, figures out what people want to hear, what they want from him, and does his best to give it to them. It's almost painfully familiar.

Oliver gives Felix what he wants in a way you know you never can; Oliver gives him someone to help, someone to feel like he's saving. As long as Felix is happy, you tell yourself, that is enough, and it's easy to like Oliver in your own way. The only problem you've found is that as much as you like Oliver, as intrigued as you are by him, you can't quite get a read on him, what he wants, what your place may be in his life. He's always watching, always searching for something, but you're never sure of what.

So you decide to show him love, show him appreciation the way you know best.

More and more you choose to stay by his side when you're all out, at the pub, at clubs, either of you are not with Felix, or if you're not otherwise occupied by someone requesting your attention, you'll be with Oliver.

Tonight, at the club, a girl from town had been occupying Felix's personal space for the better part of an hour, and by the time he has her against a wall down a dark corridor, Oliver's absconded from the dance floor to get another drink, but hasn't returned. You find him skulking against a wall, half drunk pint in his hand, gazing out through the crowd. When you join him, when you follow his gaze, you can see the silhouette of Felix and the girl, his hand up her shirt through the haze.

"It doesn't bother you?" Oliver asks, loud enough to be heard over the music, but not by anyone else.

"The girls don't bother me," an easy, languid smile spreads across your face, "the girls love me," you amend, smile turning a little smug as you watch Felix and the girl whose name you can't even been be bothered to recall.

"Felix's girls?* Ever-hesitant Oliver, even here and now, sounds carefully demure amongst his curiosity, "do you -?" He makes an awkward gesture, but you read his intentions and laugh dismissively.

"No, no... well," you pause for a moment, "occasionally I have my fun, I suppose, but not like that; girls who are into Felix aren't traditionally into me like that, no," you shake your head with an an missed smile, "but that's why they like me, I'm not a threat, see?"

Even through the haze and flashing lights, you can see Felix's hands on the girl; he's warm and rough and the way he holds always feels so fucking secure -

Looking away sharply, you're surprised by how intently Oliver's watching you. Its genuinely startling, and though he seems to understand this but doesn't look away. For just a moment your breathless, caught up in the night and the jealousy and want for your best friend that you usually have much more control over - your own words echo in your head; I'm not a threat, see? A smug lie, a joke at all those poor girl's expenses since you knew they were never going to last.

Oliver's gaze burns when you finally look him squarely in the eyes; he knows.

"I get the impression people assume a great many things about our Felix," he wets his lips, casting his gaze to darkened hallway, to where you had seen Felix with his mouth on the neck of his girl of the night, but you can't look away from him. Our Felix. "And about you."

"And you?" Your tongue darts out, wetting you lips as you draw Oliver's attention back to you, tone flirty. There's something exhilarating about this man that you can't help but want to tease out.

"Not much to assume," he gives a faint smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "I'm more the observant type than one whose observed."

"You make the assumptions."

"I make the assumptions," he actually smirks, a bit of that usual gentle hesitation that he approached the world with slipping for just a moment.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Do you have a lot of assumptions about Our Felix?" You tease his earlier wording, but once again his gaze drifts to your best friend, if he still is in the crowd. Them, quieter, almost as if you don't mean to you murmur, "or me?"

"Had."

"Had?"

"Had a lot of assumptions," there's a kind of mischief in his eyes as his tone takes on an air of nonchalance, "'bout him, 'bout you too." As he speaks, you step towards him, hand on his arm, moving steadily higher. He can feel it, you know he can, but all he does is smile wider, refusing to break your gaze.

"Like what, Oliver Quick?"

Leaning in, Oliver takes your face in his hands, bringing you close, sharing breath, lips inches from his.

"Like how they write Odysseys about your kind of loyalty," he mumbled, and you feel like his gaze alone could swallow you whole. There's a aching, yearning that you feel in this moment, when you crush your lips to his. It's quick and desperate, and he pulls back, "like how you show love with every fuckin' bit of that body of yours," this time he pulls you in and it's rougher, it's needy, he bites at your lip and you whimper against his mouth, press yourself against him, "like-" he kisses you quickly, "like- like-" but as you find yourself trailing rough kisses down his jaw, he seems to lose his train of thought.

"Yes?" You prompt with a laugh.

"Like how you're desperate to feel needed."

"Observant," you tell him softly, raising your head, arms still around him. In this moment, his expression is open, watching you, waiting for you to react, "more observant than anyone else."

"You wear it on your sleeve, sweetheart," he says bluntly, but something about being seen, about his unwavering honesty, that sets your heart beating, burning in your chest. Or perhaps it's that he called you sweetheart; it's rare that someone is so sweet to you.

"Then need me, want me."

"I do," this time when he kisses you, it's gentle, full of warmth and unexpected love, and the way he holds you close makes you feel so precious and desired at once, "but not like this, not now." And he's letting you go, despite the way your lips tingle and the damn butterflies in your stomach. You desperately want to cling to him, to ask him what the fuck he means, but he kisses you on the forehead and tells you to get back safe, wearing an almost smug, knowing smile, disappearing into the crowd. You can't even go after him, he's made you damn weak in the knees and all you can do is lean against the wall for support.

Felix and his girl have disappeared.

Your friends are still living it up on the dance floor, you're sure, but you have only one thought on your mind.

Oliver Quick is a fucking tease.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #head heart hand fic #oliver quick x you #oliver quick imagine #manic writer

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evsstolenhearts · 4 months

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Summary: you got kidnapped

Implied Spencer Reid x BAU!gn!reader | 1.4k | no y/n |

Warning: kidnapping, drugging, blood, ect. Cannon typical violence

A/N: I wrote this at like, 2am on a Monday I think. Its.... unique. R and spence are not really considered as dating, more just mutual feelings that are not discussed at this time ig?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

The cold tiles have gone warm from your body heat hours ago. Wrists are sore and bloody from the rope on them, ankles and knees in similar condition.

The window in the old, nearly abandoned-looking kitchen once showed the sun, but now the moon is shining through it. That's the only thing telling you it's no longer day.

Earlier this week, you and the rest of the BAU was called onto a case in Cincinnati, Ohio. Some guy decided he wanted to get people drunk, kidnap them, and torture them before disposing the bodies.

Luckily, you had a lead on a Tyler Mixins, and went to check this out. Unluckily, he got mad, knocked out Rossi, who was with you, and kidnapped you.

So now you sit in an old kitchen, next to a missing girl who has been unconscious since you got here, in a house in the middle of nowhere. It's hard to tell how long it's been because he keeps getting you high. From what you can tell, it's probably high doses of benzodiazepines. Keeping your muscles and mind pliant.

The few times you have been conscious enough to fight back, he's thrown you back into the wall so hard that you definitely have a horrible concussion. From what you can tell, there's also blood coming from somewhere on your head, having moved down to the side of your face and dried there.

Faintly, you hear heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen. Tyler walks in, hands shaky as he forcefully ties a rope around your head and between your teeth, keeping you from talking, before he grabs your wrists and drags you through the house. Despite wanting to struggle, the drugs in your system keep you from doing so.

He takes you to a separate room, one that seems like it was once a bedroom with a bathroom connected to it. He sets you onto a old vanity chair, tying your middle to the back of the chair.

Your eyes start to droop from lack of energy, brain slightly fuzzy. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see him grab an ax that rests against the wall. Your heart feels like it's going to fly right out of your chest.

Tyler walks closer, standing in front of you, ax in hand. Just as he prepares to swing it, the front door to the house is busted down, and rapidly moving footsteps enter. Vaguely, you can hear shots of commands as Tyler quickly grabs a syringe off a metal medical table, making quick work of uncaring the needle and rushing to inject it into your neck.

With the last of your energy, you try to scream through the gag, clearly being loud enough, as footsteps rapidly approach the room. Prentiss appears in the doorway, a gun pointed at the man in front of you.

"You don't want to do this, Tyler." Emily keeps her voice calm, taking cautious steps into the room.

He quickly goes behind you, syringe horrifyingly close to our neck, yet he remains silent. His silence doesn't seem to surprise Emily; some form of information they got while you were here probably told her why he's so silent. Too bad you didn't get to sit in an only slightly uncomfortable precinct chair while learning more information about this guy.

"Put down the syringe." Emily stops moving closer, with the chance of him snapping and injecting whatever is in the syringe into your body. "We can talk this out; you don't want to hurt them. You'll be in even more trouble for killing an FBI agent."

For the first time since you've been here, Tyler speaks, his voice rough and clearly not very used, "I'll get a lot of respect in prison for killing a fed."

There are footsteps behind you now, who you can only assume is someone else from your team. They probably snuck through a window in the bathroom. Tyler seems to pick up on this as well, as you register his grip on the syringe tightening.

From what you can tell, he does stab that syringe into your neck; there's distant yelling and footsteps. Tyler falls to the ground before all the liquid is administered into your veins, and someone else quickly rips it out. The same hands make quick work to untie all the ropes from your body; everything seems barely there. Like everything you are experiencing is memories from a dream, going in and out of consciousness.

The only thing you can know for sure is the soft, repetitive beeping slowly surrounding you. The last thing you can remember is being untied from the chair after the unsub injected you with something. You probably knocked out. And you know, you're probably in a hospital right now. But it feels like you are underwater. Like you're at peace for now. It's quite the comfortable place you've made in your mind. Feeling weightless and soft. Mind blurry and warm.

But soon you register more than just the beeping in the room. There is a soft-spoken voice. A familiar one. And suddenly, the place in your mind isn't as comfortable. The softness becomes too soft, nearly prickly. Feeling unease as you leave this place in your mind. Slowly, you blink open your eyes.

You were correct. The familiar look and smell of the hospital fills your senses. The lights seem to have been mostly turned off; lights from the hallways shine through the door, unlike the night sky shining through the window. There are flowers on a table next to you, but the most notable thing is the voice.

Next to you, is Spencer. Sat slightly awkward as he reads aloud, though, not very loudly, a book.

"Spence...?" Your voice is rough and sore, turning your head to look at him

He stops reading from his book, looking up, slightly startled. He stands up, setting his book down and walking over to you. "Hey... how are you feeling? Does your head hurt? Any other forms of pain?"

"I don't think so, my memory is really fuzzy though, and I feel drowsy."

"That's to be expected. The doctor said you had an extreme concussion as well as a wound to the left side of your head. There weren't any fractions or broken bones, but the unsub did inject you with high doses of benzodiazepine." Spencer talks quickly, giving you a once-over as he recites what your doctor said. "How much do you remember?"

You recount your memories for a moment, trying to put them into words. "I remember being tied up in a kitchen, as well as the unsub giving me pills; there was a girl here too-" The quick realization of another person being in danger courses through you: "Oh my god, was she okay? Did you guys get her?"

"We did get her, and she is being treated a few rooms over. I'll debrief you on her condition after you finish telling me what you remember." Spencer's voice remains as calm as he can keep it.

"Okay, I don't remember how much time passed, but he took me to a room, I think it was a bedroom, and tied me to a chair in there. Around that time I think Emily and someone else came I to the room, but everything else is pretty blurry."

Spencer nods as you talk, taking in the information. "The other person was Derek; the window to the connected bathroom was opened, so he climbed through that while scouting the outside perimeter. You did get injected with more benzodiazepine, which seemed to knock you out. Prentiss and Morgan got you into an ambulance, and I drove with you to the hospital. You have only been out for a day, which is expected with your injuries."

A small smile overtakes your features. "You joined me in the ambulance?"

Spencer quickly trying to change the subject as you save his heart. "You have a change of clothes, would you like to change into them?"

"Oh God, yes." You laugh as you sit up, excited to change out of the hospital gown and to spend more time with Spencer, now awake. Even though, this experience will probably leave a lasting scar.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid angst

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ugotcooneycrossed · 5 months

Text

have i told you lately, im grateful youre mine • alessia russo

w/c: ~900

alessia doesn't like anyone as much as she likes you- or, how mean girl less is really just a big softie

a/n: i dont really love this but its done so

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the skies are overcast- the cold wind hitting your cheeks and nose- no matter how hard you try to cover them in your scarf.

it’s raining- small droplets fall down and splatter on the ground, and on your clothes- well alessia’s clothes, but really it’s basically yours anyway.

it feels just like home really.

you had no reason to make the move to america- unfortunately gifted with the burden of two left feet, and asthma so bad your breathing could rival that of a pug, a sport scholarship was out of the question. thankfully your skills in books landed you with endless opportunities, that wouldn’t cause you to fall on your face. you could’ve gone to any uni really- but with an academic scholarship calling, and the promise of much better weather, you couldn’t turn it down.

and it was only ironic that you met alessia when you finally got to UNC- stargirl to the extreme and very- very serious footballer. even thinking about her sport made you breathless- or well, thinking about her playing football with the stupidly attractive captains armband made you breathless.

friday night games are your favourite- all your focus can be diverted to watching your girlfriend play.

and like every other week- your voice is sore from how much you’ve been cheering and screaming for the blonde striker.

they’re winning two – nil, those scored by of course alessia.

and no matter how many games you go to, no matter if they’re here at UNC or somewhere across the world for youth international duties, and no matter how many times she scores. you will always be the loudest one cheering.

you manage to make eye contact with her, beaming at her and sending her a thumbs up-and she smirks back at you, blowing you a kiss. your cold cheeks start to warm and you sit back down when the people around you start to tease you.

everyone and their mothers know who alessia russo’s girlfriend is- she’s quite known for her possessive streak around campus.

there was the time where she poured her drink on someone when they didn’t get the hint, also the time she came to you at half-time at her game to steal your jacket so everyone could see the number on the back of your shirt- then nursing you back to health when you inevitably got sick, and also the time she blew off training and had to run laps- all because she wanted to cuddle.

so, no- she’s not subtle at all.

not that you’d complain of course- her jealousy is very attractive.

by the time the stands clear out- it’s just you left, waiting for your girlfriend to finish her post match routine.

“hey (y/n)!”

you beam at the voice- running down the steps to jump into lotte’s arms for a hug.

“hi! you were so great out there!”

“how do you know- I’m sure lessi was all you could focus on.”

“that’s not true carlotte. i love all you girls equally.”

“hmm well i wasn’t even playing, so i think you’re lying.”

lotte wiggles her eyebrows at you, and your mouth drops I shock- before you rub the back of your neck in embarrassment.

“sorry lotts.”

“just kidding! i really was playing- but you still didn’t notice so ha!”

“go bother someone else’s girlfriend lotte- or, go get your own!”

alessia swings her arm around your shoulder and your hand comes up to hold hers- fingers entwining. alessia presses a kiss to the side of you face and stares at lotte.

“calm down less- i’m just messing around.”

you elbow your girlfriend.

“yeah, yeah. bye now lotte i’ll see you tomorrow.”

you both watch the older girl walk away- and alessia sets off, arm still around your shoulders, bringing you close to her side. you start to stumble over your feet at the awkward angle she’s created.

“less let me go- i can’t walk properly.”

“no.”

in the few years alessia’s been here, she’s garnered quite the reputation- a harsh captain with a mean streak, always quick with insults, and never afraid to get into a physical fight.

she’s competitive, and judgemental- and well a mean girl.

but you know better.

you know that she’s a sucker for romantic films- no matter how many times she tells you its stupid, she’ll always end up crying first.

you know that she lets you win- at any game really, ‘miss sore loser’ seems to always forget how to play whenever its against you.

you know that her jealousy is just because she loves you- and despite time, and time again reassuring her that she doesn’t need to be jealous, that you have and always will love just her- she continues to bite the head off just about anyone who so much as looks at you.

you can especially see it in the way she grips your hand tighter, the way her eyes glare at anyone daring to get too close, but mostly- you can tell in the way she refuses to let you go, from whatever party youre at, all the way back to your dorms.

shes a softie really- hanging off you as if you were her lifeline- puckering her lips and begging for kisses.

no one knows her the way you do.

the way you could do absolutely nothing with her and itd still be perfect.

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso

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kteezy997 · 9 months

Text

Chocolate Boss: part one // Willy Wonka

If I end up going to hell, it’ll be for this.

I blame @gatoenlaciudad

Warnings: smut, licking chocolate off reader’s body, nipple play, slight boss/employee power dynamic

Y/n was the chocolate factory’s most dedicated employee. She worked hard, stayed after hours, and really strived to make the business the best it could be. She was also a wizard in the kitchen, much like Mr. Wonka.

Willy admired his diligent employee, in fact, he had a bit of a crush on her. He’d seen her work with the candies, cakes, and pastries. He noticed that she had a real passion for it.

It was way passed closing, and Willy was heading out of the factory after a long day. He noticed that the kitchen light was still on, however. The aroma of fresh, warm chocolate filled his nose. It was divine. He knew exactly who was still in there.

He walked through the swinging doors of the factory kitchen. Y/n had a large pot of chocolate on the stove. She was stirring it, obviously stuck in her own head, thinking of whatever recipe or concoction she wanted to bring to fruition.

“Miss y/l/n, I don’t want you working yourself too hard. We should both really get out of here for the night.” Willy said politely, approaching her side.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wonka. It’s just that this idea has been in my head all day. It’s like a chocolate bar with strawberries and cream and ugh, it sounds so delectable.”

Willy raised his brow, “I love it. We will work on your idea tomorrow, just you and I. I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”

“Oh really?! Thank you, Mr. Wonka!” she exclaimed, hugging him.

He smiled with glee as he hugged her back.

“It’s a pity that this batch of chocolate will go to waste if I go home now though.” she said.

“That’s alright.” Willy replied with a wave of his hand. “We can start over in the morning.”

“Or…” she began stepping over to the counter across from the stove and picked up a fresh strawberry by its short stem. “Maybe we could try some?” She bit her lip suggestively.

Willy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he swallowed hard. “Oh, yes, we certainly could.”

Y/n smiled in victory, “Here, Mr. Wonka.” She dipped the small fruit into the liquid chocolate, coating it up to the tiny bit of green at the top of it. Letting the excess chocolate drip off, she held it up to Willy’s mouth.

Carefully, he opened his mouth. He felt the warm chocolate on his top lip, then there was the bright pop of the fruitiness of the strawberry when he bit into it. The chocolate coating was an excellent contrast, like a creamy, decadent blanket surrounding the fruity taste.

“It’s perfect.” he declared dreamily.

“May I, sir?” she asked.

Willy cocked his head to the side, not really understanding what she was meaning. Next thing he knew, y/n was leaning in and her lips met his. He was surprised but definitely not disappointed. He indulged in her, opening his mouth up for her to explore with her tongue.

Now he knew what she was doing. She was tasting her creation in his mouth.

“Mm,” she moaned softly when she parted from his lips. “It is pretty good. Forgive me, Mr. Wonka, I had to taste it. I-I wanted to… taste you too. I hope this doesn’t mean I’m fired.”

“Far from it, my dear.” he said, assuring her.

“Oh, good.” she grinned. "May I kiss you again, Mr. Wonka?"

"Yes, please. And as I've told you before, you can call me 'Willy.'"

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, "Willy." she giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly, running her hands down his arms sensually.

He in turn, put his arms around her as well, and their bodies became flush with one another.

She parted from his lips but remained still just an inch from them when she said, "I've got an idea." She then stepped back and started to remove her clothing.

"Wait-what.." Willy stammered.

"Shh," she put her finger on his lips, silencing him for a moment, "let me try something."

Willy could barely breathe as he watched her get completely naked before him. He watched her painstakingly. She then dipped her hand into the pot of liquid chocolate. It dripped down her hand and she gave him a cheeky grin before smearing the chocolate onto her breasts, covering her nipples.

"Oh, Willy, can you clean this up for me?" she asked, acting innocently as she brought her chocolate covered fingers to her mouth and started to lick the sweetness off of them.

Willy cleared his throat. His cock was already hard, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. "Fuck." was his only verbal response at this point, but he was able to answer her with a head nod.

He sunk down a little bit to be eye level with her breasts. He licked his lips and put his mouth around her right nipple. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it as it puckered in his mouth, making sure to get every last bit of the sugary goodness off her tit. He couldn't help but moan at how delicious it was. Oh, how it turned him on. His two favorite things: Y/n and chocolate.

"Mmm, don't forget the other one, my sweet." cooed y/n, cupping his face as he suckled her.

He obliged and switched to her left breast, clearing up the rich coating with his tongue and lips. He looked up at her as he was latched onto her nipple, sucking softly on the tender bud.

"Willy, feels so good. You're getting me so clean." she praised him, giggling and running her fingers gently through his curly hair.

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader

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bloatedandalone04 · 8 months

Text

You Made it Shine

➪the one where you’ve been feeling a bit lonely, and leon intends on making it up to you.

Warnings: first time daddy kink writer - be gentle, age gap, 18+, daddy kink obvi, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (leon just really wants to knock you up), breeding kink, swearing, scratching, biting, hair pulling, choking, y’all are f r e a k y

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Thank you for 3.6k followers mwah

Some trash reality TV show played in the background while you flipped to another page in your textbook. You had been given a fucking stupid amount of homework to do by next Monday, and you were beginning to feel stressed out about it all.

It didn’t help that you missed your boyfriend, either.

Leon had been very busy lately, and you only really saw him when he got in bed with you after eleven PM.

While you didn’t know much about what he did for work, you knew it required him to be gone a lot and he had to dedicate most of his time to it.

You huff quietly as you scribble out a word you misspelt before trying again, glancing over at your phone when it went off from its place on the floor beside you.

Daddy 💖: Gonna be another late night, I think. I’m sorry, baby, I know you wanted to watch that new movie. I promise we’ll get to it soon. Be home in a few hours ❤️

You huff again and quickly type out a message before tossing your phone aside, knowing damn well how childish you are acting, but also not caring at all.

I’m bored, Leon. I miss you. Let me know when you have time for me.

As you started to read over the notes you took during your lecture earlier today, your phone went off again within seconds of you sending that last text.

Daddy 💖: Don’t be like that, princess, I’m feeling bad enough as it is. I’ll be home soon and then we can figure out a time that works for both of us. Only a few more weeks then I’ll get to use some of my unpaid days off, and I’ll be spending every one with you.

You bite your lip and decide not to answer, already feeling a bit bad for how you acted in your previous message to him.

Leon worked very hard and put in more hours than most people, and you knew he got into that kind of work early on in his life. He didn’t tell you really anything about his job, but you knew he started when he was twenty one and had been in the same field ever since, now at the age of thirty three.

You were only twenty two, and you seriously couldn’t imagine putting yourself through half the things he did, so you had to appreciate his dedication, even if just a little bit.

After reading for a while, you ventured off to yours and Leon’s shared room and changed into a lacy, black two piece pyjama set so you could be a bit more comfortable while you studied.

You ate a few pieces of strawberries you had cut up for lunch earlier as you skimmed through your notes, the time passing by quicker than you thought it would.

Before long the front door was swinging open and slamming shut, and the sound of heavy footsteps were heard approaching the living room. “Baby,” Leon rasped as he stood in the doorway.

You look up at him from your spot on the carpet, your books and pages scattered around you. “Hi,”

Leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair next to the door before he was slowly crouching down and meeting your eye level. “Hi,” he said back. His eyes raked over the mess of papers and the tired look on your face, his heart aching a bit at how neglected you looked. “I was worried about you.”

You leaned into his touch when he reached over and ran his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Why?”

“You didn’t answer my text,” he stated as his gaze dipped down to your lips.

Shrugging, you look back at your book. “I felt bad for how I acted,”

“For how you acted?” Leon laughed quietly and moved so he is kneeling next to you. “Baby, I’m the one who cancelled our plans, again. I’m the one who feels bad.”

You tilt your head when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “It’s alright,” you murmured as you felt his lips softly brush the skin behind your ear. “Work comes first. I know that.”

“Not when it comes to you,” he corrected as he moved to pull you onto his lap right there on the living room floor. “You should know that, instead.”

You were finding it hard to focus with his body pressed right up against your back, and his hands running up and down the skin of your thighs, but you played it up as if his actions didn’t faze you.

Until he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, moving upwards to whisper, “You look so pretty, baby,” and you just could not stop the shiver that ran through your body. “Did you wear this for me?”

You were helpless as you nodded, glancing over at the time on your phone and seeing that Leon had only been at work for another hour before getting home, and not a few like he said. “Did you rush home for me?”

“Everything I do is for you,” he reminded you as he trailed his mouth along your shoulder blade. “Everyday, you’re on my mind, baby.”

You bite your lip as you turn your head so you can look into his annoyingly pretty eyes. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, you close your eyes as you lean back against him. “I missed you, daddy,”

Leon groaned and pressed a proper kiss to your mouth, slipping his hands under your shirt as he murmured, “I missed you, too, princess. Fuck, did I ever,”

You turn fully so you’re straddling his lap and grip his shoulders with your fingers. “Touch me,” you nearly begged, missing the feeling of his hands on your body after going without it for nearly two straight weeks. “Please.”

Leon cooed at your pout, reaching up to pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “My sweet girl,” he said, more so to himself. “I haven’t been taking very good care of you, have I?”

You shook your head and pressed your knees into the carpet on either side of his hips. “No, you always take good care of me,” you promised, tangling your hands in his hair. “I just miss you.”

He nodded and placed a noisy kiss on your lips. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore as his hands drifted lower, taking the lace of your panties between his fingers and pulling it down with him. “I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” He said against your mouth as he gently lifted you up and placed you down so your back is against the papers that were scattered all over the carpet.

They crinkle under you, but you don’t care as he pulls the lace from your body and immediately replaces it with his lips. You sigh and jolt a bit as you reach down to grip his head with one hand. “Daddy,”

Leon grunted against your core and the vibrations had you bucking up against him. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along your wet folds. “You needed your daddy, huh?”

“Always,” you answer, spreading your thighs a bit more as he further delved into you. “I always need you, Leon.”

He hummed against your clit. “I need you, too,” he promised, wrapping his free arm around your thigh and pulling your body closer to his greedy mouth. “Every single fucking day I need you. You’ve made me so damn pathetic, princess.”

You moaned and arched your back a bit, further scrunching up the notes you took. “You’re so good to me, daddy,” you nearly whisper. “That doesn’t make you pathetic. It’s so attractive, you don’t even know how hot you are.”

Leon smiled up at you in appreciation. “I bet you don’t realize how hot you are, either, sweet girl,” he says. “And you taste so fucking good, I could stay down here forever.”

It was a sight that was nearly too hot to handle. Leon hadn’t even been home for five minutes before he was going down on you, still wearing his work clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black shirt that fit him so well and showed off his toned chest, and boots.

You always thought he looked too hot to be going to work, but then you realized that he simply looked too hot all the time. How you managed to get him all to yourself, you’d never know, but he is somehow completely obsessed with you in every possible way.

“That’s fine with me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair and looking down at him. “I’m always so wet for you.”

Leon groaned loudly and began to fuck his fingers into your greedy core. “I know, sweet girl,” he mumbled, coating his fingers in your wetness with every thrust of his hand. “You’re so sensitive. I can just look at you and you’d get wet for me.”

“I can’t help it,” you say quietly. “You’re so hot, daddy.”

“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Not at all. I love how much you need me and how much I turn you on. It’s the same way for me. You make me so hard, it’s painful sometimes.”

You gasp out a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when he curls his fingers in order to be able to reach your sweet spot. “Daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips up as best as you could against his firm hold. “Please.”

“I know, princess,” he hummed, fucking his fingers hard into you and loving the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure. “I know. You just need your daddy to make you come, huh?”

“Please,” you say again, reaching down to grip his hand in yours. His other picked up the pace and his thumb brushed against your clit with every thrust. “Please.”

Leon kissed all along your thighs, never taking his eyes off your face. “I love it when you beg, baby,” he says. “But you don’t need to right now. I’m gonna get you off so good, I promise.”

“Leon,” you nearly yelled as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked on it harshly and felt as your thighs shook a bit. He moved down when he felt your release coat his fingers, and delved his tongue within your walls to taste you.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praised, sliding his sopping fingers out of you and licking them clean. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

You whine and pull him down on top of you. “Please, daddy,” you begged, kissing him deeply as he settled between your thighs. “I need you. Want you to fuck me so badly.”

He tsked, bracing himself by his forearms on either side of your head. Next to where your hair is sprawled out was a sheet from the lecture you had earlier, and Leon grinned at the small amount of drool that left your lips and landed on the paper. It smudged your name and made the ink bleed a bit, but you didn’t care at all. “Look at you,” he groaned, licking up the line of salvia from your mouth to your jaw. “My smart girl, all hot and bothered for me. You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?”

“Yes,” came your instant reply.

The sight of you was something that couldn’t even be found on the internet. You were so pure and so rare, and all his.

You were too smart for your own good, yet he could easily get you all dumb for him and his dick. He can easily get you desperate for him.

“Wait,” he requested, grinding against you when you whined at the word. Your whole body shook as his jeans brushed against your wet and sensitive core, and it was almost enough to have you push him away. “See? You’re not ready to get off again. Not yet.”

He leaned in to kiss all over your collarbones and shoulders, one hand reaching down to push up your flimsy top. Your breasts spill free from the thin fabric and he moves further down in order to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“I’ll get you ready,” he promised as he swirled his tongue around the taunt peak, his fingers moving to pinch and pull at your neglected one. “Get you all nice and ready for daddy’s dick.”

“Mm, fuck,” you whined, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light strands. “Leon…Fuck, I love you.”

He grunted against your nipple, pulling away and leaving a strand of salvia behind. “I love you so much more, baby. My pretty girl,” he leaned back on his knees, draping your thighs over his as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You looked so fucked out already, with your tits on full display, your thighs coated in your own release, and your lips swollen and wet. Leon had never seen a prettier sight.

The front of his jeans quickly began to sport a damp spot from the way he rubbed against your dripping core, and he never wanted to wash them. He could live happily forever while just being covered in your sweet scent.

You whimpered as you played with your nipples, the slow grind of his hips beginning to work you up again. Your quiet gasps and moans were music to his ears, and Leon was prepared to take tomorrow off just so he can spend the whole day eliciting more sounds from you.

The cool metal of his zipper against your heated clit had your eyes rolling back, your chest lifting up and causing your notes to become wrinkled under you. “Daddy,” you whispered, grinding up against him. He stilled his hips and let you rub against him, his eyes following the lift and drag of your core against his painfully hard dick through his jeans.

“There you go,” he rasped, gripping your waist and giving you a sharp thrust. You moan loudly, bucking against him desperately. “You sound so sweet, baby. So good for me.”

“Please,” you whisper.

He pulls away and watches as your core drips with arousal, sliding down your folds and wetting your anatomy notes without a care in the world. He wanted to lick it up so badly, but refrained from doing so when he felt your gentle tugs on his shirt.

Leon reached behind him and pulled off the tight fabric from his chest, tossing it aside to join your damp panties.

You bite your lip and sit up, pulling off your own shirt and throwing it to the side as well. The sound of pages crumpling fills the room as you move to copy his knelt stance, your body much smaller than his and making you have to tilt your head to be able to look up at him.

Leon reaches down and grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “What do you want, baby?”

You hum, kissing his wrist before moving up to kiss his lips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair as his tongue explore your strawberry tasting mouth. “I wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you murmur when you pull away.

Placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, you pause at the waistband of his jeans. You glance up at him as your fingers make work of unzipping them after pulling his belt off.

“Let me go down on you, daddy,” you offered, pushing down his black boxer briefs and freeing him. “Let me suck you off.”

Leon groaned and tightened his grip on your hair. “You don’t have to ask, princess,” he reminded you. “You know I won’t ever pass up one of your blowjobs.”

You grinned, gripping him tightly. “I know,” you say before wrapping your lips around him. Starting off with his tip, you run your tongue along his head before slowly taking more of him. You hollow your cheeks and take him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis bone and he is hitting the back of your throat.

You move so you’re lying flat on your front, your hips pressed to the floor and your juices still dripping onto your homework pages.

Leon groaned loudly, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you began to suck him off. “God, baby, you’re going to need to ask for a new page for your homework assignment,” he announced. “You’re soaking the one you have now.”

You moan around him, your eyes nearly rolling back when you feel your clit throb at his words. You clench helplessly around nothing at all, your walls pulsating with every sound that leaves his sinful lips.

“It’s all for you,” you tell him, stroking his wet shaft with your hand as you lean forward to kiss along his abs. His body was insane and you were sure you could spend the rest of your life exploring it and never get bored of the way it felt against your hands.

He worked out so often, his body had no choice but to tighten up in all the right places. “I know it is, sweet girl,” he mumbled. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to take whenever I want.”

You moan embarrassingly loud at his possessive words, feeling more wetness drip from your folds. “I’m so wet, daddy,” you gasp, licking his tip once more. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, tugging on your lip with the thumb of his freehand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I missed you, too. You need me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

You hum, pulling off him again and stroking him with both hands. “I need it so badly,”

Leon hummed in agreement. “Lay back, princess,” he instructed quietly. You oblige right away, sitting up only to lay on your back a few seconds later.

“Are you going to breed me, daddy? Get me all knocked up?” You tease, knowing how badly he wanted to see you round with his baby. Being with you had unlocked so many kinks, Leon hadn’t even heard of some of them, but he knew he definitely had them.

Leon cursed under his breath as he pulled his jeans off completely and threw them to the side. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promised, staying in his knelt position and grabbing your thighs. He spread your legs and exposed your awaiting core, all ready and his for the taking. “Show all those college boys how badly you wanted me to knock you up.”

You moan loudly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him coat his salvia covered dick in your wetness before easily sliding in you. Your head falls back and your chest pushes up, your nipples hard and straining against the cool air in the room. “Fuck,”

“That’s my girl,” he grunted once he was fully buried in you. “So fucking tight.”

“Daddy,” you whine, watching as he began to slowly fuck into you. “You stretch me so good.”

Leon grunted in reply. “You were made for me, princess,” he says, draping your thighs over his again and rocking his hips into yours. “Mine from the very beginning.”

“Fuck, Leon,” you moan, the slick sound of your walls taking every inch of him filling the room. “I need you, daddy. Please.”

“How do you need it, baby?” He asked, running his hands up and down your thighs.

“Hard,” you answer, and that was all he needed. He gripped your waist tightly and began fucking into you fast and steady, making your whole body jolt and shake with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.”

Your head falls back and you lay down again, reaching down to grab onto his wrists. “Like this?” He mocked under his breath, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move he made.

“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck yes, daddy, just like that.”

“Good girl,” he praised, adoring how responsive you always are to him. “I’ll fuck you nice and hard, like you deserve.”

You whimper and he reaches one hand up to fondle one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching your already hard nipple. Your whole body shakes a bit as he uses his other thumb to rub harsh circles onto your clit.

It was probably too much too fast, but he knew you could take it.

You were his sweet, cock-hungry girl, of course you could take it.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you lay back and push away various papers, not caring about their well-being at all as you shove them away from you.

You should have more self control. You should be studying right now and watching your dumb reality TV show, but here you are instead, splayed out and taking him so well like you always did.

You couldn’t help it. Leon was so effortlessly attractive and he got you going without even trying.

You missed this physical contact with him for weeks, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get off with him.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, drilling into you without showing any signs of stopping. “Feel full?”

“Yes,” you respond not even a second later. “Feels so good, Leon.”

He grunted, removing his hand from your chest and sliding it upwards until his fingers were gently pressing against the base of your throat.

At the slight blocking of your airway, your eyes light up and you grin at him. “Yes,” you moan again, wrapping your nimble fingers around his wrist.

Leon stared down at the sight below him, his lips parting a bit as he groaned loudly. “My dirty girl, huh? Letting me do whatever I want to you. Letting me fuck you raw,” he mutters, more so to himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to knock you up.”

You moan in response, clenching tightly around him. “Leon,”

“Yeah,” he huffed, tightening his fingers around your throat. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you? Get you all nice and pregnant?”

You both knew that he wanted that, and you did, too, but later down the road. Maybe after you graduate college.

Leon understood that and is more than supportive of it, so he settled on fantasizing about it instead.

It was just so hard to not imagine a future where you and he start a family of your own. He couldn’t wait.

“I want it, daddy,” you whimper, feeding into his kink. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good, sweet girl,” he murmured, gripping your hips in both hands as he fucked into you hard. “You make me feel so good, wrapped around me so tightly, taking me like the good girl you are. You’re so good to me, baby.”

Your eyes roll back as you blindly reach for him. Pulling him down on top of you, your legs wrap around his waist when he moves so he’s hovering over you.

Raking your nails down his back, you hear him inhale sharply next to your ear. “There you go,” he muttered. “Scratch me up, princess. I want it.”

You oblige and dig your nails a little deeper, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave angry red trails indented on his back. “Leon,” you gasp as you clamp down tightly around him. “Please, make me come again. I need it.”

“Come, baby,” he requested. “All over me. I want you to make it so fucking messy.”

He leaned down and gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your shoulder. His tongue soothed the small sting and your body pulsated a bit as you felt your second orgasm rip through you. “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck,”

Your walls sucked him in impossibly deeper and each thrust of his hips was noisier than the last. The faint squelch was barely heard over your loud cries as you came harder than before, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted as he felt your warmth flood around him. “Good girl.”

His words set butterflies loose in your body and you cling onto him with every ounce of energy you have left. “Daddy,” you whispered, your core begging for a break but also begging for him to fill you up. “Come, please…inside me.”

Leon lets out a throaty groan as he fucked into you a few more times before stilling. He comes deep within your soaked walls, painting your core white as he fills you up to the brim. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, pulling out slightly then slipping back inside you again.

He wanted to make sure his seed reached as deep as it could go in you, even if there was no way you could actually get pregnant right now since you’re on the pill.

You whine a bit when he pulls out completely, replacing his dick with his fingers as he pushes his come back inside you. “Where it belongs,” he mumbles as he leans down to press a kiss to your abused core.

You shudder a bit as he moves back up your body and wraps you in his arms. Relaxing against his chest, you let out uneven breaths as you feel his seed run down your folds and seep into your lecture notes. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I really did miss you so much, Leon.”

He kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you a bit. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, knowing both you and he would probably wake up tomorrow with rug burn marks on your bodies. “I’m sorry for not being here very much. I promise it’ll only be a couple more weeks and then I’ll be given a break.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, giving him another kiss. “You made up for it tonight.”

Kind of don’t like this at all, so be gentle and lie to me if you hate it, too x

#leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon re #leon smut #re4 leon #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil x reader

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badasbebi · 4 months

Text

the cupid project ➛ 1/2

part two

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you and your long-term work crush devise a plan to win a company contest. in the end, you wind up going to extreme lengths to commit to the bit

✦ genre/au: fluff, fake dating, videographer reader, bada's extra sweet here, slight friends to lovers

✦ word count: 7k

✦ warnings: isn't proofread. another unrealistic meet cute that doesn't really make sense. smut in part 2

✦ a/n: another two-parter simply bc my fics are too long. 2nd part is finished and will, again, be posted soon (literally tomorrow). didnt put as much thought into this one as I have with my other stories, which will probably be a pattern from now. still think its fun. enjoy!

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"It's been three minutes. Why are we still waiting on people?" Youngj fusses, running his fingers through his hair, tousling it

"Relax, Jae. You called us here last-minute. People are busy," Minho says from where he is sitting, scrolling through his phone.

Youngj's eyes snap to him. "Too busy for an emergency meeting with their boss?" He retorts, raising an eyebrow.

Minho looks at him, then shrugs. "Well, that's what happens when you hire a bunch of ultra-talented, sought-after dancers. We don't need you," He finishes, swiftly turning back around, sunglasses concealing his eyes.

Youngj gapes for a second, then seemingly surrenders, slouching back in his chair with a scowl.

Meanwhile, you're balancing a camera lens in your hand on the sofa across from them, twisting and turning the machinery in your hand as you stifle your laughter. Still being somewhat new to the team, you weren't sure if you necessarily had the right to take part in Minho's teasing. You became an employee at JustJerk Dance Academy only six months ago, after JustJerk announced that they were looking for new hires. However, you weren't a part of their star-studded lineup of top choreographers and instructors. Instead, you were hired to be a videographer and photographer, working behind the scenes to ensure that every breathtaking move, every impassioned sequence, and every dancer was captured flawlessly.

Which, it was not like it was very hard. The people here were phenomenal enough as it was, making your time spent at work nothing less than a blessing for someone who's long watched dancers from the sidelines. Even better, the members of JustJerk Dance Academy aren't just a group of talented dancers, but also a lovely group of people. They're kind and caring, often inviting you out to eat after a long day of filming or helping you with the things you struggled with. Sometimes, you still got awestruck around them because it was such a far cry from what you were used to. But, it was beginning to feel like home. And, as the days went by, everyone started to feel more and more like family.

Well, almost everyone.

Suddenly, you hear the doors swing open and glance up to see who's arrived.

"Sorry I'm late," A voice rings throughout the room, revealing none other than the legend herself, Bada Lee.

Even after having passed by her a million times, the woman never failed to take your breath away. She was gorgeous and had an allure unlike anyone else, with a presence that seemed to shift the energy in every room she entered. In other words, she was also intimidatingly cool, which led to you frequently avoiding her because you were, simply, terrified. Though she's always been nothing but sweet and brilliant during your brief interactions, this kindness almost made things worse. It'd be much easier to disregard her if she was an asshole. Unluckily for you, she was one of the most charming people you've encountered in your life, making it nearly impossible to ignore the magnetic pull that's been causing an increasing amount of debauched thoughts and dreams.

Bada walks toward the rest of the group with an apologetic smile on her face. Her long, black and blonde hair was tied back in a bun, and her baggy clothes were noticeably wrinkled, suggesting that she came straight from practice. Despite her slightly disheveled appearance, she looked as enticing as ever.

You avert your gaze and continue playing with the camera equipment in your hands, attempting to appear nonchalant.

"What happened? You're never late," Youngj asks, sitting upright.

"I was helping one of my students out with a routine and got a little distracted. Sorry," Bada explains with a pout, sitting down on a separate couch next to yours. You keep your eyes on the camera in your hands.

"Don't worry about it, I just need everyone's attention for a few moments," Youngj says, scanning the room. "Is this everyone?"

"No, Redllic should be coming in soon. She was right behind me," Bada says, looking over at the door.

Your eyebrow inadvertently quirks up at the sound of Redllic's name escaping her lips.

"Good enough, then. Let's get started," Youngj leans forward in his seat, clapping his hands together. "I want to first apologize to all of you for calling you here so abruptly. Unfortunately, this was the only time I had to get you all here together.”

Everyone eagerly waits for him to speak, the air thick with curiosity as Youngj takes a deep breath, his gaze shifting from one person to another.

"So, to clarify, I didn't call you guys here for anything particularly important."

Minho laughs bitterly. "I fucking knew it."

Youngj gives him a pointed look before continuing. "There's a special event that the company is holding and I wanted to inform all of you about it in-person, because even though it isn’t anything to worry about, it is admittedly a bit...unusual for us."

"What is it?" Redllic asks, appearing out of thin air. Everyone, except for Bada, jumps slightly, surprised by her sudden arrival.

"Redllic!" Youngj says, placing a hand on his heart. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Oh, sorry," Redllic shrugs, plopping down next to Bada, throwing her feet onto the coffee table. "What's going on?"

"Right, um," Youngj clears his throat. "As I was saying, there's an event that we're hosting for Valentine's Day. We're calling it the 'Cupid Project.' Basically, you're all going to get into pairs, and you'll be doing a variety of activities together," Youngj explains, his eyes scanning the group, watching the reactions on everyone's faces.

Ew, is the immediate word that pops into your head. This reminded you of the group projects your teachers forced you to do in school. You can already see how this project will play out, and it's probably not going to be pretty. Based on the skeptical expressions you can make out, you are at least relieved to see that you aren't the only one feeling hesitant.

"What kind of activities?" Bada asks softly, tilting her head.

"Just activities to get to know each other. Doing things you wouldn't normally do," Youngj replies, shrugging his shoulders. "Jho and I have some planned activities, but the point is for you and your partner to find things to do voluntarily. If we plan everything out for you guys, then it'll be completely forced."

"Wait, wait, wait," Minho interjects, pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head. "So, you're telling me I have to go on a date with someone here?"

"No," Youngj shakes his head. "We're not forcing you to fall in love or anything. This is purely platonic, just a fun way to bond with each other. And there'll be a prize," Youngj says, wagging his finger.

"A prize?" Minho echos, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. You and your partner will compete against the others and the pair who does the most activities and seems to have actually become good friends with each other will win a reward."

"How are you measuring that?" Hoyeon, another videographer, asks.

"We'll conduct anonymous votes and collect them at the Valentine's Day party we're hosting," Youngj explains. "But, it's not supposed to be all that serious, everyone. We're just trying to do something fun and, you know, team-build since we've gotten a lot of new hires recently. And, we'll get a good video out of it. We're planning on making a highlight reel of the Cupid Project for our Youtube Channel, which will be nice promotional material, too."

So that's what this was really about: content. Truthfully, you wouldn't have an issue with this if it were not very likely that you'd be the one filming or editing this highlight reel. You internally groan, realizing you'll have to deal with an increased workload because of this clusterfuck.

"I think it's a great idea," Redllic says, a mischievous smirk on her face. You watch her glance at Bada, who is staring at nothing with an unreadable look in her eyes.

"Well, what's the prize?" Minho asks.

"600,000 KRW"

Others around the room whisper in excitement. You almost drop your camera. Out of shock, yes, but also because that was exactly the amount of money you needed to buy a brand new camera that you've been eyeing for ages. You've been wanting to record more complex videos, wanting to work on actual music video sets, but your current setup is limiting you. If you were able to get your hands on that camera now, you'd be about a year or two ahead of the original timeline you had in mind. You bite the inside of your lip, hoping Youngj doesn't see the desperation in your eyes.

"Holy shit," Hoyeon mutters.

The two of you make eye contact, and you already know that the two of you are working together. You were close, having joined the company at the same time and being around the same age. This would be an easy win.

"Alright, so it's settled, then," Youngj says, a confident grin forming on his face.

"Are we choosing our own partners?" Redllic asks, moving a blonde strand of hair away from her face.

"No. That would lead to a bunch of people asking to be paired with people they're already friends with, which would make the whole thing pointless. We're drawing names out of a hat," Youngj says, gesturing towards the baseball cap resting on the coffee table.

Everyone collectively groans. You try not to cry.

"Stop, come on, don't make this difficult," Youngj frowns. "The sooner you choose, the more time you have to prepare. Now, who wants to go first? I already have your names written,"

"Wait, let me go first," Hoyeon volunteers, jumping up and grabbing the hat. She reaches her hand inside and picks a small slip of paper out, then reads it aloud. You bite your lip, praying.

"Howl," Hoyeon declares, holding the piece of paper out for everyone to see.

Your name is not Howl, but you nearly howl right then and there. Realistically, the probability that you would get who you wanted was unlikely considering the number of people in the room. Nonetheless, it hurt.

The man with the wolf-centric name quietly stands and moves away from the corner he was situated in. He had been quiet the entire meeting, and most did not really notice he was there until Hoyeon mentioned his name.

"Guess it's you and me," Hoyeon laughs, smiling at the tall figure beside her.

Howl gives her a slight smile, shakes her hand, and they sit back down.

"Alright, Bada. Why don't you come over here?" Youngj says, gesturing to the coffee table.

"The one that everyone wants, I'm sure," Redllic comments with a bemused smirk, causing a clamor of chuckles.

Bada scoffs, and heads over to the table. She reaches into the hat, rustling through the papers. You hold your breath, reminding yourself of the unlikelihood that you'd be the name she pulled. However, as the woman's fingers curl around a single sheet of paper, your heart skips a beat. You feel as if you were the one reaching into the hat.

Bada pulls the paper out and unfolds it, her eyes scanning the sheet. Then, her eyes lock with yours, and your heart leaps.

"Y/N," Bada calls out, holding the paper up.

You freeze, the room spinning around you. There's no way.

Bada cocks her head to the side. "It's you, right?"

"Oh! Um, yeah," You sputter, quickly gathering the camera equipment around you.

You hear whispers and feel a hundred pairs of eyes on you as you walk over to the girl. You ignore the feeling of your skin burning.

"Hey, Y/N. It's nice to officially meet you. I've seen you around a lot," Bada says, eyes warm.

"Yeah, nice to officially meet you, too," You say, extending your hand.

Her hand is warm and soft, enveloping yours like a blanket. Your hand feels cold and sweaty.

"Interesting," Redllic quips, eyes darting between you two, a glint in her gaze. Bada tears her eyes away from you, giving the blonde woman a questioning look as she retracts her hand.

You take the opportunity to step away, returning to your seat and letting the other dancers pull names. The rest of the pairings are revealed without much commotion, except for Minho's, who loudly complains when he has to partner up with Jaeyong, a good choreographer, but awkward man.

After all the names are drawn, everyone is dismissed. You're quick to leave the room, eager to return to the comfort of your familiar space behind the camera.

"Y/n! Slow down! We need to talk!" Hoyeon calls, catching up to you.

You turn around, side-stepping out of the way of people walking past you in the hallway. You wait for her to stop in front of you before you speak."With all due respect, I don't really want to talk right now. I just want to record. Then go home, and eat some ramen."

"With Bada?" Hoyeon sings, a cheeky grin forming on her face.

"Shut up," You mumble, rolling your eyes and continuing down the hall.

"Wait, why are you so bummed?" Hoyeon starts, following behind you, "Bada's cool?"

You sigh. "Exactly. She's cool. I'm...not."

"What? Yes, you are. Why would you think otherwise?" Hoyeon scoffs, her eyes narrowed.

"I just," You pause in the hallway again, trying to formulate the words. "I'm a little scared of her, is all."

"Scared?" Hoyeon questions, her forehead wrinkling. "She's nice though. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Yeah, but she's so pretty, and talented, and again, I'm not. Not in the way extraordinary way that she is, I mean.” You explain, shoulders slumping.

A look of realization dawns upon Hoyeon's face, and she laughs menacingly. "Oh, I see what this is. You think she's hot, and you're a scaredy cat who's afraid of rejection. Case closed. I understand."

"That's not how I would phrase things but, essentially, yes," You concede, turning the corner.

"You're being silly. She's not a god. She's literally just a human being...a very sexy human being but a human being nonetheless. Just talk to her like one," Hoyeon suggests, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, are you not going to try to get that money? I know you want it. I saw that crazed look in your eye once Youngj made it to that fifth zero."

You laugh, "I mean, yes, I really want that money. I don't know if it's possible though. Even if I wanted to reach out to her, she’s so busy I doubt she's planning on actually committing to this. Especially because she's already loaded."

"You don't know until you try you wimp," Hoyeon says, nudging you in the arm.

"Ow," You groan, rubbing the spot in a manner that probably proves her point. "Aren't you going to try for the money too? Where's Howl, huh?"

"We're friends already, it'll be chill. I don't know if we'll necessarily win the money, but, like, we'll have a good time," Hoyeon states, grinning.

"Ugh, gross," You say, sticking out your tongue.

She ignores your immaturity. "What do you wanna do with the money anyway?" Hoyeon asks, leaning against the wall next to an entrance to one of the dance studios.

"Remember that equipment I told you about? So I can start working on sets?"

"Oh, right," Hoyeon says, crossing her arms. "You said that you've been wanting to do that for a while, y/n. Are you really not going to talk to Bada? I’ve recorded with her a few times now and I mean it when I say that she's nice as hell. I feel like she'd probably be down, or, at the very least, will understand if you explain things to her. "

"I'll try. Maybe. At some point. It's not going to be today, though," you mutter, reaching for the studio door before you are stopped by Hoyeon jabbing her french-tipped fingernail into your chest.

"You better. Or else," Hoyeon threatens, a dark expression coming over her.

"Move your finger, please," You say, swatting her hand away.

Hoyeon rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Good luck filming. I'm gonna go find Howl. Love ya,"

"Yeah, yeah. Have fun," You wave goodbye to her as she walks down the hall, pulling out her phone.

Once she's out of sight, you release a deep sigh and push open the door, only to be met with the sight of a familiar face.

"Oh," You breathe.

Bada turns, a surprised expression on her face. "Y/n, hi. Were you coming in?"

"Um, yeah," You reply, slowly entering the room and closing the door behind you. "Are you rehearsing something?"

"Yeah," Bada answers, glancing at the mirror.

"Sorry. I can go-"

"No, no, don't worry about it. If you need to film in here, that's fine. I'll just go next door," Bada says, waving her hand.

You pause, taking a breath. Now’s your chance. "Actually, forget the recording, could I talk to you real quick? About the...cupid thing?"

"Yeah, of course. I was actually hoping we'd get a chance to talk," Bada grins, sitting down on the floor and patting the spot beside her.

You hesitantly walk over and sit down next to her. You take a moment to compose yourself, running your fingers along the smooth fabric of your pants.

"So," Bada prompts.

"Uh," You stammer, wracking your brain for what you were supposed to say. "Um, well, I just wanted to say that, uh, you are really, um, talented. And-oh, this sounds really weird." You finish, running a palm down your face in embarrassment.

"No, no, it's not," Bada chuckles, a gentle smile on her face. "Thank you, though. But, um, that's not what you wanted to say, right?"

"Right. Sorry," You apologize, a rush of blood filling your cheeks.

"Don't worry. Take your time. We have a lot of it," Bada reminds you, studying the expression on your face. Her voice and words are calming, but her staring is freaking freaking you out further.

You take another deep breath, hoping to quell your nerves. "Okay. I'm sorry. Uh, I'll try again. What I really wanted to say is, I know that it’s a stupid contest, and that you probably don't care about winning, but I actually really want to participate in that project and win that prize money. And, I was hoping you'd, maybe, help me win?" Before she can respond, you launch into another tangent. "I'm sorry, you're probably busy, which is okay, but I just want to upgrade my equipment so I can get more opportunities outside of-"

"Hey," Bada says, gently laying her hand on top of yours. "Of course I'll help you. You don't have to apologize. I think it'll be fun."

You nearly spiral, but Bada's touch is surprisingly soothing, and you calm down despite your anxiety.

"Oh, wow. Thank you, so much," You breathe.

"It's not a big deal, seriously. I'm looking forward to it," Bada insists, squeezing your hand.

You stare at her, and her kind, sparkling eyes. What have you gotten yourself into?

You both sit there for a second, a pregnant pause in the air, before you quickly pull your hand away, remembering how sweaty they were.

Bada smiles, unphased. Then, she begins tapping her fingers rhythmically against the ground, a contemplative look on her face as she stares at the space where your hands were previously intertwined.

"So," Bada suddenly looks up. "If you're just in it to win it, and you really want a fair shot, I think we need to do something a little extreme."

You blink, scared. "What do you mean…extreme?"

She bites her lip and you have to resist the urge to stare. "Youngj said this was supposed to be platonic, so that's how most people are going to approach it. How do we seem better or stronger than other platonic relationships? What’s more intense than that?"

You must be misunderstanding where she's going with this. "Um, a romantic one?" You say, furrowing your eyebrows.

To your shock, she nods. "Exactly. Y/n, I'm saying that we should make our Cupid partnership a romantic one," Bada states, her expression serious.

Your head is spinning. She is taking this much more seriously than you were anticipating. You were expecting to just go out for coffee a few times, and maybe post a picture of your twinning lattes on instagram to sell your friendship. You have no idea how to process this more intense proposition.

"Are you suggesting that we pretend to date each other?" You confirm.

A beat of silence. She leans back slightly, her eyes flickering. "I mean, yeah. Sure," She pauses. "Unless you're not comfortable with that."

"I am," You respond, the lie escaping your mouth with ease.

Bada's eyes widen and she sits up, a smile growing on her face. "You're sure? If you're not cool with that, we don't have to. I know the idea is a little bit out there. I just, uh, want to help," She babbles, her fingers tapping against the floor again.

You laugh. Was Bada Lee nervous? "I'm not uncomfortable with it. I trust you. As long as it helps us win,"

"It will, I promise. I'll make it worth your while," Bada vows, her expression determined.

"I can't wait," You laugh again, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

"Cool," She breathes, her body relaxing. "Well, I should go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

You grin, nodding. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Awesome," She smiles, standing up. She reaches her down and grabs your hand, pulling you up. "I'm not gonna be able to actually meet-up with you tomorrow because I have something scheduled, but I already have your phone number. I'll text you."

You nod, distracted and unable to speak as her soft fingers brush against your palm.

"Bye-bye," She waves cutely, her long legs swiftly carrying her across the room. You wave back, her departing smile etched into your brain as you watch the door click shut behind her. Then, you're alone.

You stare at the floor, processing the interaction. You had just agreed to pretend to date one of the hottest and most intimidating women you had ever met. You had no clue why you did it. Maybe the promise of money and fulfilled dreams had blinded you. Still, the whole thing seemed a little too ridiculous. Too dangerous.

But there was no backing out now. You already went through the trouble of telling Bada about your desperation, and you told her that you trusted her. You'd have to commit.

"Well," you whisper, hugging yourself in a soothing motion. "Here goes nothing."

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You fidget within the plush confines of your seat, hesitantly glancing around your dimly lit surroundings as you twist a gleaming piece of silverware between your fingers. Your other hand remains in your lap, afraid to touch the red linen covering your table. Your gaze settles on a couple a few tables away from you, clinking their wine glasses together with pompous grins. It crosses your mind that the wine they're drinking is probably worth more than the money you're doing all of this for, and you make the executive decision to reach for the bottle of wine the woman sitting across from you generously bought.

When you drop your fork to outstretch your hand toward the bottle, the woman in question seems to notice, hurriedly grabbing ahold of it before you can reach it, and pours the liquid into your glass, herself.

"Thank you," you murmur, retracting your hand and finally allowing it to fall on the table.

"No problem," Bada replies, her voice warm and velvety, like the wine. She pushes your drink toward you, and you hurriedly snatch it up to take a large gulp, allowing it to trickle down your throat. The heat of the alcohol soothes your anxiety, and you exhale deeply.

Your relief lasts for approximately one millisecond. Because, in the next, you're putting your drink down and are being reminded of the predicament you've gotten yourself into. Bada's preoccupation with her menu gives you the chance to observe the way the soft glow emanating from a nearby lamp illuminates her features. The light traces the curves of her face, accentuating every perfect line. Her eyebrows furrow in concentration, compelling you to consider reaching over the table to smooth the lines over with your thumb. When you try to look away, your gaze locks on the pouting of her lips as she focuses on whatever she's reading.

"I'm thinking of getting the Frutti Di Mare," she voices, snapping you out of your trance. She sets the menu down and looks up, a gentle smile on her face.

"I don't know what that is," you respond dumbly.

She laughs, the sound light and airy, causing the skin near her eyes to wrinkle adorably. "I thought Italian was your favorite?"

"It is," you confirm, feeling flustered. "I just-the Italian places I go to are super watered down. The fanciest thing you'll see there is fettuccini alfredo,"

"That makes sense," Bada nods, her smile turning playful. "Then, I'll let you know what it is. It's basically seafood. I think it's usually served with pasta."

"Ah," you reply, nodding slowly. "Tasty."

Bada laughs again, and you feel like a scratched CD—unable to get any words out, twitching in place, devilish sounds threatening to enemate from you at any moment. "I'll make sure to order an extra portion for you to try. Unless, of course, you don't want me to."

"No, that works. I'm fine with that," you respond, quickly.

"I figured." Bada smiles knowingly.

Your hand clutches your chest. "Hey, is that a little shade? Did I miss it? Please, elaborate," you joke, leaning forward.

Bada giggles. "Maybe. You've been drinking a lot of that wine. And I think you ate most of the breadsticks."

You glance at your breadcrumb filled plate, then at the half-empty basket of breadsticks. "Oh. Wow. I did."

"You did," Bada affirms, her expression amused. She scoots her chair closer and takes a sip of her own drink, her tongue darting out to lick her lips once she's done. You have the overwhelming urge to mimic the motion, but resist, choosing to instead stuff another breadstick in your mouth.

You swallow the last bits of the breadstick, wiping the crumbs off of your mouth, only for a new, smaller, crumb to appear. Bada notices, and when she raises her arm, your breath hitches. You feel her soft hand graze the side of your face, the pad of her thumb rubbing the crumb off your lip.

"There we go," Bada smiles, satisfied. You can't help but lean into her touch, the warmth of her skin a pleasant contrast against the cold room.

You're startled out of the moment when the waiter appears, setting a basket of warm bread down. You jump, moving away from Bada.

"Have we decided what we'd like to eat?" he asks, his accent thick.

Bada nods, seemingly unaffected by the exchange. "Yes, we're ready. I'll have the Frutti di Mare."

"Great choice," the waiter says. "And, for you, miss?"

"Um, Spaghetti," you answer, your voice strained.

The waiter scribbles down the order. "Anything else to drink?"

"I’m good, thank you," Bada answers, her tone sweet, smiling gratefully at the man.

"I'll be right back with your food," the waiter bows his head, his ponytail bouncing, and swiftly leaves the table, leaving the two of you alone.

Avoiding eye contact with Bada, you grab ahold of your glass and drink. The air crackles with something subtle, and you find yourself stealing glances at Bada’s pretty face in between sips, your cheeks warming.

But you needed to get down to business. It’s already been two days since you discussed fake-dating, and this is the first time you’ve done anything together. The clock was ticking.

You placed your drink down on the table and swallowed loudly, causing Bada to stop fiddling with the napkin in front of her in favor of looking at you.

"So," you start.

"So," she copies.

"What's the plan?" you ask, drumming your fingers against the table.

Bada's eyebrows furrow again. "The plan?"

"For the whole Cupid thing," you clarify.

"Oh," she says, blinking. "Right. Well, I was thinking, that this was sort of the plan."

"This being..."

"Dinner. At a fancy restaurant," she responds, gesturing to her surroundings. "People will see us hanging out together here, and it'll get the rumor mill running. I wouldn't be surprised if the media picked it up, honestly. I think it's a pretty solid first step. We're just planting the seeds,"

You nod. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense. How do we get from here to actually dating?"

She leans back in her chair, pondering the question. "Hm. I don't know. An Instagram post, maybe? A soft launch?"

You consider this. "Okay, sure. But, what would the picture be of? This is all so, vague."

Bada shrugs, nonchalant. "We'll figure it out as we go. We're gonna be spending a lot of time together for the next few days so there'll be plenty of opportunities for pictures. For now, I think we should just enjoy dinner. We're supposed to look like a couple in love right now and I don't know if trying to scientifically plan a soft launch is really giving romance."

"Right," you sigh. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Bada says, reaching across the table to give your hand a quick squeeze.

You're interrupted by the waiter returning, bringing the food. He carefully sets the dishes down, and a delectable smell fills the air.

"Bon appetit," the waiter bows his head and disappears again.

"Thanks," you call after him, taking a moment to observe the meal.

"It looks great," Bada comments, reaching for her fork.

"It does," you agree, grabbing your own utensils. You take a tentative bite, moaning loudly as the flavors immediately explode in your mouth. "Holy fuck."

Bada stares at you, wide-eyed and frozen, a piece of pasta still stuck on her fork.

You blush, covering your mouth. "Oh my gosh, sorry."

She gulps, snapping out of her stupor. "No, no, it's fine. That was just, a, uh. It seems like you really like it!"

"It's really good," you confirm, your words muffled by the food.

"I can tell," Bada chuckles, her voice low and her eyes twinkling.

"Sorry. I'm gonna try not to embarrass myself any more," you say, chewing more delicately.

She laughs softly. "There's no need to apologize. You're funny, y/n," Bada says, the sincerity of her words and the fondness in her tone making heat rise to your cheeks.

You eat the rest of your food quietly, listening to the bustling noise around you, the sound of Bada's utensils clinking against her plate unusually relaxing.

As you're finishing your last bits of pasta, a group of loud voices and giggles pass by your table. One of the girls, a brunette, notices the two of you and stops.

"Oh, my god," you hear the girl not-so-discreetly whisper, clutching her friends' arms. "Is that who I think it is?"

You glance at Bada, and she's looking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

"Bada Lee and...I don't know who that is? Who is that?" The brunette's friend replies.

You look down, pretending not to hear the conversation.

"I don't know either. You think that's her girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?! No way. They're probably just hanging out or something."

At this, Bada drops her fork and reaches across the table for your hand, grabbing it gently.

"You okay, baby?" Bada asks, her tone sugary sweet.

You're taken aback by the pet name. But, you decide to play along. You smile at her, placing your other hand over hers. "I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little tired."

"Do you wanna leave, honey?"

"I think I'll be fine," you grin.

"If you're sure," Bada smiles, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I'm positive, honey bunch," you affirm, biting onto your bottom lip to contain your laughter.

"Aw, they're cute!" the brunette sighs. "I've gotta tell Sooyoung about this."

"Yeah, we should leave them alone, though. Let's go."

You and Bada watch the pair walk away. As soon as the women are out of sight, the two of you burst into laughter, dropping the facade.

"Did you see their faces?" Bada giggles.

"'Who is that?'" you imitate, your voice high pitched and nasal.

"Baby," Bada says, smirking.

You laugh, but the endearment sends butterflies to your stomach. "Sweetie."

"Honey bunch," Bada grins.

"Honey bunny," you fire back.

"My love," she replies, tilting her head with a smirk, her voice playful.

"Lovebug," you answer, raising an eyebrow.

"Is this foreplay?" she jokes, laughing.

"I mean, if you want it to be, I'm not stopping you," you say, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself. Bada's eyes shoot up, and you feel slightly mortified and shocked by your own brazenness.

"Do you mean that?" Bada asks, her voice dropping down an octave.

You open your mouth, then shut it. This is odd. You were regretting your lack of filter at first, but Bada seemed a bit too intrigued by the idea of consensual foreplay with you. She could just be joking, or really committing to the fake-dating bit. The look in her eyes was telling you otherwise, though.

However, you're cut off by the waiter reappearing. "May I interest you in dessert, or shall I bring the check?" he asks.

"Just the check, please," she says, not breaking eye contact with you.

The waiter bows, leaving the table once more.

You opt to stare down at the table. "I'll pay half," you offer, avoiding her earlier question.

"It's on me," Bada says. "I brought you here."

"Thank you."

"It's no problem," she says, a small smile on her lips.

Once the waiter comes back, Bada gives him her card. When he returns to your table with the receipt, Bada locks eyes with you, your heart thumping loudly.

"Let's get out of here," Bada says, and you nod.

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You stand at the entrance of the restaurant, a gentle breeze caressing your face. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your coat, and the chilly air nips at the tip of your nose.

"Are you ready?" Bada asks from behind you. You turn around to look at her, and the way her eyes reflect the light of the streetlamps above you causes your chest to tighten.

"Ready," you confirm, a hint of a smile on your face.

"Alright," Bada says, shoving her phone, which you don't remember seeing her pull out, into her coat pocket. She leads you to her car, opening the passenger seat door for you.

"Thanks," you smile, and she responds with a nod.

After the door is closed, she goes around to the driver's seat, starting the engine and driving out of the parking lot. You're both silent as she navigates through the streets. You peer out the window, watching the city lights flicker and blur as you replay tonight's events, attempting to ignore the now obvious tension.

"So," Bada breaks the silence, causing you to whip your head toward her. "You still haven't fully explained to me what plans you have in mind for that camera you're wanting so badly."

"Well," you begin, relieved that she took the conversation in this direction. "I love what I do at JustJerk. Seriously, watching you guys dance is amazing, and the people are the best. But, I don't want my career to end there. I want to do more on top of that, diversify my portfolio and all. What I really want to do is get onto a music video set. Maybe start directing, too. One day."

Bada hums and smiles. "That's amazing."

"Thanks," you grin, scratching the back of your neck.

"With all due respect, though, do you really need the new equipment for that? You do such a good job with our choreography videos. I don't know anything about videography, but I'd be surprised if that alone couldn't get your foot in the door."

"Well," you draw out, considering your words. "That's probably true. But, I don't think I'm that lucky. The equipment will help, the camera will be useful...the lenses will be nice to have…”

Bada frowns. "Have you given it a shot yet, though? As much as I'm going to try my hardest to help you win this money, realistically, there's a good chance that we still won't win. I'd hate to see you postpone your dreams just because of this camera, or because of this project."

You pause, staring at the car's interior, listening to the sound of the engine running, lost in thought. You weren't sure if it was because you admired Bada so much, or if it was something about her tone, but you were actually starting to rethink things. Perhaps you were holding yourself back a bit.

"Maybe," you simply respond, unable to say much else.

"I mean, the equipment will probably help," Bada concedes. "But, not having it won't stop you, I'm sure. Our videographers really don't get enough credit. But, you're all great and you're especially amazing at what you do, y/n. The only reason why I haven't gotten around to working with you is because the other dancers keep getting to you first," she admits, bitterly.

"Wow," you breathe. "Thank you."

"Of course. You're awesome," she says, the confidence in her words filling your heart.

"So are you," you say, turning away from her, trying not to blush.

"I know. You’ve said it already," Bada smirks, and you simply roll your eyes.

A more comfortable silence envelops the two of you, and the tension from before dissipates. You lean back in the passenger seat, a smile on your face, feeling content.

Soon, Bada pulls up outside of your apartment, and you're disappointed.

"This is you," Bada announces.

"Yep," you nod.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," she says, smiling.

"Me too," you reply with a matching smile. "Thank you for dinner."

"It was no problem," she states, waving her hand.

You step outside, but, before closing the car door, you hesitate. "Um," you say, unsure.

"What is it?" Bada asks, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Can I give you a hug?" you blurt out.

Bada looks startled, but her expression softens. "Sure," she nods, turning the engine off and stepping outside.

You meet her on the sidewalk, and pull her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her torso and pressing your cheek against her chest. She hugs back, and you swear that you can hear her heartbeat.

"Goodnight," Bada whispers into your hair.

"Goodnight," you echo, pulling away, already missing her warmth.

She opens the car door again, ducking inside. "Text me when you get upstairs," she instructs.

"I will," you promise.

"Great. Goodnight, y/n," she smiles.

"Goodnight, Bada," you reply, watching her drive away. Once her car disappears, you sigh.

As you trudge up the stairs to your apartment, a single question repeats in your mind: What the fuck am I doing?

You finish cleaning up and getting ready for bed approximately two hours later. As you lay in bed, scrolling through social media, a post from a JustJerk fanpage catches your eye. It's a picture of Bada and you together at dinner, with the caption, "Caught on a date?!"

You laugh at the predictability of the situation, and just as you're about to turn off your phone, you think to check Bada's Instagram, curious. She posted a new story.

You tap it, and it's a picture of you, taken from behind, standing outside the restaurant. There are no words attached to the picture. Just one, pink heart.

You smile, saving the picture, and fall asleep with the image burned into your mind.

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Three days later, you are stationed near your camera, watching Bada teach. The day after your fake dinner date, she sent you a text describing the next stage of the plan, which was attending each other's events and collaborating in public whenever it seemed right. This initially felt like an excellent idea. You'd been dying to watch and record one of Bada's classes since you started working at JustJerk, and it brought you guys one step closer to convincing everyone you were seriously dating. What could go wrong?

The actual execution of this idea turned out to be much more distressing than you previously imagined. It started this morning when you were filming Minho's class. You kneeled in the front of the room, prepping your camera as Minho made rounds around the studio to talk to his students individually. Engrossed with your equipment, you didn't hear the sounds of the door opening and closing, or the following eruption of loud murmuring. It was not until you saw a pair of sneakers stop in front of you and caught a whiff of a now-familiar sweet aroma, that you bothered to glance up. When you did, you found yourself making eye contact with Bada, holding a bouquet.

"These are for you," Bada said, a proud smile on her face.

Your jaw dropped and you scrambled to get up, almost knocking the camera over. They were roses, vibrant and beautiful against the dull gray of the dance studio. No one had done this for you before.

"They're gorgeous," you whispered, accepting the flowers.

"I'm glad you think so," she replied, her smile deepening as she observed your reaction. You cradled the bouquet in your hands, inhaling the smell of the roses with a pleased hum and missing the endeared expression on Bada's face. You certainly didn’t see the way she started to lean forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Shocked, you loosened your grip on the bouquet, feeling nothing but the rush of warmth spread through every inch of you as a result of her tiny peck.

She shifted back, as relaxed as ever. "I gotta go, but I'll see you later?"

"Definitely," you nod, clutching the bouquet once again, head spinning.

"Great." She nodded, then made her way out of the studio.

After she left, you turned to face the room, only to be met with everyone’s staring. Right. That is what this is about. Getting attention. Nothing else.

You glanced at Minho, who had a teasing smirk on his face.

"What?" you asked him, scowling.

"Nothing," he laughed, then restarted his class.

Now you are recording Bada's class. Or at least, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing. But, having to observe her so confidently lead her students through a routine, hearing her call out corrections with a simultaneously gentle yet demanding tone, noticing how hard her abs are when she lifts her shirt to wipe the sweat from her brow for the last hour? It's been painful. You're so busy trying not to swoon you've nearly forgotten to press record a couple of times.

She suddenly looks at you, flashing a small smile at you accompanied by crinkling eyes. You give her a thumbs-up and quickly shift your gaze toward the camera as if you were busy setting the frame, even though the shot is already perfect.

Bada returns her focus to the class, and the lesson continues. Every once in a while, Bada walks over to you, checking in and asking how everything is going. Each time, she offers a smile, a wink, or some form of encouragement, and every time, it takes everything in your power not to blush. She's clearly playing it up for the audience, but the effect she has on you is no act.

Her students are buying it, though. The moment she gets near you, the girls (and a few guys) start whispering amongst themselves. It's working.

"Alright," Bada claps, signaling the end of the session. "That's it for today. Good job, everybody."

"Thank you, teacher!" they all exclaim, bowing and gathering their things.

You're packing up your camera when you feel a pair of hands grasp your waist. Startled, you drop your tripod.

"Gotcha," Bada giggles.

"Shit, that scared me," you say, placing a hand on your heart.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughs. "How'd the recording go?"

"Pretty good," you say, bending down to pick up the tripod. Bada immediately crouches, beating you to it. "Thank you."

"No problem" she says, straightening up, extending the tripod towards you.

"Thanks," you say again, taking the device from her. "Anyway, you did good. It's not going to need much editing."

"Really?" Bada smiles. "Thank you. That means a lot, actually."

"It’s no problem," you grin, suppressing the fluttering in your stomach. "And, uh, thanks again for the flowers, by the way. They were beautiful."

“You are very welcome. Just fulfilling my fake-girlfriend duties," Bada beams, and you have to look away.

"Well, anyway, I should probably head home," you say, avoiding eye contact. "Gotta get started on the footage."

She tilts her head. "Uh, I don’t think so. That’s gonna have to wait for tomorrow,”

"Huh? Why?" you ask, confused.

"Because, y/n, we're going bowling with Youngj and them? Don't tell me you forgot," she chides, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," you say, remembering. "I thought that was supposed to be later."

"It's 7:30," she says, a slight frown on her face.

"Fuck," you curse, running a hand through your hair. "Sorry, I'll get out of here."

"We have to go there together," Bada reminds you.

"Shit. Okay, yeah, let's go," you sigh.

"Are you okay?" she asks, concern etched onto her features.

"Yes. No. Ugh. Sorry, I just had a lot on my mind today. Didn't get much sleep," you say, rubbing your eyes. It wasn’t a complete lie. Ever since your date at the restaurant, you’ve been getting bombarded with messages from friends asking about the two of you, giving you little time to rest alongside your work for Justjerk. There was more going on today, though.

"That sucks," Bada sympathizes. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," you answer, bluntly.

"Okay," she says, softly. "But, if and when you do, I’m all ears."

"Thanks, Bada. I appreciate it," you reply, and a part of you is telling yourself not to get attached. But the bigger part of you, the part that wants nothing more than to fall into her arms, tells that smaller part to fuck off.

"Of course. Anyway, we should really get going," she says, and you follow her out the door, leaving your thoughts and feelings behind.

read part two

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