#ive back slid after that party

[chocolate-failure]

God I fucking hate myself... As much for the things that I do as the things I don't. Today my best mfkn friend, like kismet close, celebrated their birthday. And it's wild cuz I say we're really close when we don't know massive swathes of information about each other. I feel like it's mostly me but they play shit close to the vest too.

But I went to the party and I looked really nice but I fucking hated it and myself but mostly myself. I didn't want to eat or drink too much which makes dancing with a bunch of drunk/high people not so fun. But like also idk... I always have these weird moments where I feel like this just ain it. Like being a human is so fucking bogus and I'm so bad at it anyways, why even bother. Like was this experience supposed to impart something upon me? Was I supposed to derive some kind of joy or peace from this endeavor? And The Baby was there. On top of being ignorant af she's also loud which wouldn't be a problem if she had compelling or fun things to say. She low key sucks all the fun out of a conversation with a single line. Like it's kind of the hugest most exhausting buzzkill.

God I hate being me bro and like of course, within the first hour of the party I'm hunched over the toilet retching. That's something I hate. When you go to events and can't concentrate on grounding yourself and tracking the input it's really mfkn hard to find yourself in the bathroom trying to discard said input. It's hard to explain but not really but I'm tired... I can tell how much I've eaten and how much should come up when I'm home because I'm fully calibrated to this environment, as much as I hate it, and I'm able to gauge to a pretty reliable degree how much I should be throwing up and I tend to have a fair amount of control over how fast and how much comes up.

Like especially after eating something like ice cream and popcorn, idk I just remember that combination a lot from my childhood. Hell even orange juice is an okay liquid if you drink enough but ice cream is high up there. The mucous your body produces breaking down high fat dairy products is fucking exquisite 👌 Like it makes this perfect almost frothy capsule around whatever you've eaten making even the hardest things to get up easy af if you're able to get some ice cream inside of you in time. Sunflower seeds have a similar affect because you're producing and swallowing a lot of saliva as compared to food. The seeds get suspended in the saliva and come up real easy like, you don't even need to drink anything. And it's honestly a good idea to try to drink as little as you possibly can because I'm at the phase where something I drank like 3 minutes ago will already be emptied out of my stomach. It's definitely happened a few times and is a fat worst than death. Like imagine you ate something you very much wanna uneat, so you drink some water or juice to grease the skids only when you go to purge literally nothing comes up 😤 whata goddamn nightmare.

It's been a couple days since I started writing this but I had an instance in mind I wanted to mention not so much for posterity but also a reminder to future me the lengths we, hopefully once, went through to keep this fucking shit show going. Ain nothing quite like pulling back the veil to reveal the crusty old man yanking his diseased prick to show you how far you've fallen. Ed is fucking disgusting. The human body is disgusting enough as it is without this disease ravaging it. And maybe it's not that so much as it ravages your mind and makes you grow accustomed to som derranged shit.

The first thought that comes to mind is when you don't put down enough toilet paper or miss your mark and toilet water splashes back up into your face. You don't even wipe it off, might as well wait til we're done right? The business at hand is far more important than getting rancid shit water off your face. And have you considered that perhaps you deserve it?

The other day, and by other day I mean 2 weeks ago I went to dinner with the fam for my brother's birthday. We had sushi. I ate too much. Though any amount is technically too much... So when we get home I rev up the ol tonsil tickler, the choke goat, the duke of puke. Who knew I could swallow knives. And when I'm done I go to flush the toilet and nothing fucking happens... Imagine my abject horror. Here I stood at the scene of the crime, a toilet bowl filled with sushi colored puke and not an ounce of water to dispose of the evidence. I was fucked. I thought well maybe I could convince my brother to help me without looking in the toilet. I certainly couldn't ask my mom or dad. They'd both lose their shit but my brother holds enough reverence for me to enable some of my more unusual eccentricities. No, best not to involve anyone else. But also why tf is the toilet *this* broken??? Like there was no water in the tank. I should've just done it in my room, out of the way of prying eyes. It's also sus af for me to pass 3 other bathrooms to use one of the two that's only used by us and not guests. I could just say I like it more than the others and of course I do but not for the sake of nostalgia. I honestly think my mom would be none the wiser, if she had even an inkling I was back on my bullshit she'd be on me like well me on said bullshit... I should've just used the other one. I would've been fine, but I guess that can't be helped I kick myself as I grab a fist full of my own vomit and drop it in the trashcan. I didn't even think about. Like 0 preparation... This is what had to be done. But then I noticed the bucket sitting next to the trashcan ✨eureka✨ this could work or make the situation a hundred times more difficult to hide. I hedge my bets and fill the bucket with hot water and pour it into the toilet. And just like that my problem was solved. No mess no witnesses and best of all no waves. I didn't need to ask for help and have it documented in my mom's mind that the toilet posed a problem for me. She remembers that type of shit and will check up on shit you may have done wrong.

So I take the vomit soaked tissues in the bathroom trash and put it in a grocery bag and very purposelessly throw it away in the big trash. You can get my mom with sleight of hand if you make what you're doing seem trivial enough without being attention to it.

I feel ridiculous for having to do these things but the discomfort of being overweight outweighs it tenfold. I much rather be skinny than normal. I rather pick shit pellets from my bleeding rectum like some kind of disgusting shit prospector. I rather the constant hemorrhoids, the years of irreversible dental damage, the insane thirst I'm plagued by at any given moment in the day. The inside of my mouth is itchy and tingly and I can't recall a time when it wasn't. I hate every goddamn second of this but this seems to be a reasonable price for self actualization. At least at the moment. I've no intention of stopping and I'm not sure I could if I wanted.

[miya-rin]

“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”

shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.

“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.

“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.

“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.

“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”

“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”

“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.

“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.

“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.

you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.

“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.

“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.

“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”

“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”

“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.

“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”

“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”

“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3

[jolapeno]

iv. anchor me

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter four of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

chapter warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. hand stuff (f receiving), illusions to the past, bi!frankie.

an: thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this after bake off and telling me that i can do the thing.

wordcount: 3.4k

The moment Benny’s (insistent) invite landed in your messages, you had expected the one from Frankie.

Phone in hand, tapping your foot, counting, barely making it to 30 seconds before the banner slid down your screen. Because, of course, the can’t-say-no invitation was on the day the two of you had a scheduled thing.

Unsurprisingly, his simmering annoyance hadn’t vanished when he came to pick you up—another thing insisted—and you came out to meet him.

I’ll pick you up. I can drive there and meet you, save you coming across town. I‘m picking you up. Means I get to make sure you get home okay.

The sound of the car door slamming into place as you lock up, turning to walk towards his vehicle to find him eyeing you up in a way that makes your cheeks burn and you want to hide your face.

He keeps having that effect on you.

Make heat lick up your spine, your brain forget its sentence or thought, and your eyes find themselves unable to stop dropping to his lips .

It’s why it takes all your strength to say, “Eyes up here, Morales.”

He does, although he does take a second. Licking his lips, before doing exactly that. “Do I tell you enough that you look good?”

Laughing, you roll your eyes. More for him. An act, a pretence. Because you’re trying to seem unfazed—attempting to ignore it, the flutters of wings in your stomach.

Having to focus on it more and more when he stops in front of you, the bill of his hat shielding his eyes from the sun, allowing you to see how they drink you in, swallow you. Practically smothering you in simmering heat that makes you want to tear your clothes from your skin.

“You’ve mentioned it a lot lately.”

He doesn’t move, a thing which makes the wings flutter worse. More intense. Practically beating them as you stare at him, fighting the urge to wrap your fingers around the back of his neck and pull his lips to yours.

To have him. Kiss him.

Remembering as you shift in your shoes, that you’re not with him. This is all an arrangement, a plan—a schedule, a date each week (or two) that Benjamin Miller fucked up.

Nudging him, you wink. “C’mon, I want first dibs of the food Will is cooking before you lot leave me with the scraps.”

You were outside in the backyard an hour, before a water gun soaks you.

Benny’s—of course—a stupid gift you’d purchased him, now used on the neighbours’ kids, with you caught in the crossfire.

By the time you’ve realised, you’re being flooded with apologies. Each coming from Benny’s tongue tenfold, rushing over as though he’d sprayed you in bullets and not water.

Your discussion with Will all but ended with a gasp as you stared down at your now transparent shirt. Watching his eyes lift up, trying not to glance or look.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I was—and then—let me show you where the towels are—“

You’re not sure who you laugh at more: Will or Benny. Holding a hand up, accepting one of the many apologies that fall, waving it all off, as your eyes scan the other guests, not finding the one pair of eyes you really want.

“It’s fine—can I, borrow something?” you ask, dropping your voice, “There’s kids around.”

Before Benny has even finished nodding, you make a beeline for the house. The one you know. You’ve been here enough times, dipping in through the side door, feeling your top cling to your skin more uncomfortably than it had outside.

That’s when you stare outside. Noticing that the gathering was closer to a party, it all loud and busy—even from inside. Suddenly grateful for the cover to spend a minute cooling off in the house. An excuse merged with gratefulness when you could hide and slide your shades off—wanting a drink, water, ice.

Suddenly needing a second.

Because all you’d done is eye-fuck your friend. The one you’ve seen naked—the one who looks more than good, and fucks even better.

The one, you suddenly can’t spot.

The glass in your palm lets condensation droplets slide down your wrist. The rim against your bottom lip, staring out at the people laughing, smaller kids being chased by Benny and his water gun. Eyes scanning, nervousness bubbling, mind beginning to worry you’re about to see him with someone else.

Like you have done so many times before .

You’re so lost in it, you don’t hear him, never mind feel him, until his arm snakes around your waist. The man you’d been missing—the one who’d been burning holes into your spine, but never coming over.

Now, though, he’s all warm mouth again to your ear, a whispered shh, as he peels your glass from your hands.

“You’re all wet, querida. We best get you dry.”

And then you’re walking, being led. Moving with ease as Frankie—who you hadn’t even seen come inside—was wrapping his fingers inside yours. Leading you, down the familiar hallway you’d helped paint several years ago, to the bedroom you still called Frankie’s, even if he hadn’t lived here in years.

You remember when you‘d knock on the very door to call for him, or hang out on the other side of the frame.

Frankie and Benny had shared this space before Frankie had found his own. The offer of your spare room had not been good enough—even if he painted it in, not wanting to be an inconvenience. How you’d sit on the bed that’s now for guests, perched, waiting for him before the two of you grabbed food or visited the movies. Simple things—friend things.

It isn’t like that today. His mouth slants over yours as soon as you’re both alone, pressing your back to the wall, devouring, licking into your mouth as you gasp.

Because the two of you could be caught. A shudder spreading out at the idea. The thought of the door being thrown open, making you groan into his mouth.

But, you’re not sure you’d care if you did.

You don’t fucking care if they all found you like this.

Lost, whimpering, desperate—all for him.

Not at his hand places itself around the base of your neck—lightly touching, pressing the smallest amount of pressure down, as he hushes your soft moans. His finger resting against your chin, the others slowly bury themselves in your underwear, giving you more reasons to be loud than be quiet—not something close to friend things.

“You been thinkin’ about me?”

The yes leaves your lips, but it is swallowed by a moan. It travelling from somewhere deep, flowing up, rippling out as you begin to writhe against his touch. Your eyes fixed on his—drowning in brown, sinking in as he curls his fingers inside of you. Beckoning, pleading with you to hand him what it is he wants.

Fuck, you want to give it to him. Had done from the moment you’d arrived, pulled up in the space outside Benny’s home—the former fixer-upper, turned dream house.

Frankie always looked good, even if his wardrobe was minimal. The back of him easy to pick out from a crowd, so broad you’re sure you could draw it with your eyes closed. You’ve stared at it so much—and that was before this all began. This, whatever this mutually beneficial thing is between the two of you, neither of you will properly name.

It’s why you kiss him, needing to taste his groan, lather your tongue in the way he says your name. Pronounces it. It more noticeable when your hand cups him—greeted by the hard outline of him against your palm, all noticeable, barely contained by his cargo pants.

“—tan bonita,” he croaks, throwing your hand away before placing it back to cup your cheek, forcing your head to his, the base of his palm catching your bundle of nerves as he slows his ministrations. “Be good for me, querida. And just focus on being quiet.”

A chaste kiss pressed, a signature on the dotted line—one you agree to as you chase his lips. Just tasting the beer-tinged air of his breath as he continues to bury his fingers inside of you. The sounds of it so vulgar, loud, barely muffled by the strangled whimpers you try to keep back.

“So good for me, tan perfecta.”

Your eyes close, lashes clenching. His whispered words make it harder to stay quiet, to be the thing he’s just told that you are.

And the worst is, you know he knows it. Can feel his smirk against your jaw, the way the tip of his tongue swirls over your pulse as his hip pins you in place, his fingers continuing their wanted assault, keeping your feet rooted to the ground, head barely able to think about anything but this.

“Please,” you ask.

Eyes open, capturing his. Hooking in. Watching him drink it in, your request—your ask.

“Alright baby, I’ve got you,” he whispers, more breath than words, right against your cheek, finger drawing circles against your clit. “Always got you, haven’t I?”

It’s electric, and also fire. It surges and licks up your spine as you nod. As your throat goes dry, sound goes fuzzy, before he’s good—to you, for you. Alternating between filling you with the same fingers that built your furniture.

“Doing so well for me,” he says, nose against your cheek, fingers pumping—

In and out.

In and out.

“Be good though, let me feel you squeeze my fingers—wanna feel you come, querida. Please. Please.”

Your eyes clench, feeling both nothing and everything. Because someone could walk in. Your teeth bite into your lip as you try to keep back the chants of his name. His fingers are so deep, feeling so good.

“Let go, querida.”

It falls from his lips like honey. Sweet. Almost sticky in how it clings to the air as your eyes open, finding him.

The first thing you think is: earlier was nothing on the way he’s staring at you now.

Doing more than devouring, he’s drowning in you—likely unaware you’re doing the same with him.

Each nerve illuminated, your ears slowly buzzing louder and louder as you crash your mouth to his and lick into his mouth as you still, tense and writhe all at once.

Then you are stars, feel yourself unknotting, all at once. In the bedroom that used to be his.

Frankie shouldn’t like seeing you in an old t-shirt of his, but he does.

Unable to tear his eyes away from you as he leads you to two seats, your laugh flowing—something he said under his breath, now forgotten, still swirling through you, forcing your eyes to close and your fingers to dig into his forearm.

He likes you like this—has always liked your laugh.

Blissfully aware that he should, but shit, he can’t take his eyes off you. Even if he knows he needs to—plenty of eyes around, ones who have always teased, always taunted.

You’d be so good together. You pair are so cute.

The comments go on, and on. Have done for years.

Except now, you’re dressed in him.

To most, it’s a simple, old tee splattered with paint. To him, it’s when the group of them painted Ben’s house. His eyes having drank you in, wishing he could wash the paint from your legs, unsure how you’re covered in as much as the wall.

Your clumsiness having painted itself against you, your own clothes ruined, before you’d purposefully (and intentionally) splattered yourself against him when you’d come in for a ‘hug’.

Now, you’re sitting next to him, curled under one leg, shades hiding where your eyes are—but he hopes they’re on him—wishing you’d be on him.

“You dry, querida?”

“Oh, jodete.”

Smirking, he takes a sip of his drink. Licking the front of his teeth, leaning forward.

“Rather fu—”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

Your tongue traces the bottom of your lip, slowly shaking your head. A part of him wanting to pull you close, have you in his lap. Fuck everything and just give in and—

“So,” Will announces. Suddenly there. Blocking the sun, pointing at an empty chair before he sits beside you.

And Frankie drowns his throat in beer.

He listens, while staring off, as Will asks how your friend is—when she’s back in town, because Ben won’t. You knotting and unknotting the end of the tee around your finger, chatting and chatting.

Something tightening inside of him when he catches sight of you, from the corner of his eye, throwing your head back as Will makes you laugh. Him trying not to grimace each time his friend does so.

Because Will is his friend.

A good one, a great one. Yet, when it comes to you, he always feels inferior. Less than. Somehow more broken more than—

“Fish?”

Will’s voice drags him from his thoughts, blinking. Thumb tracing the neck of his bottle as he nods.

“I said have you heard from Pope?”

He tenses. Frankie feels himself still. Back all straight.

The question cuts through his bubbling thoughts. Suddenly aware of the sound of his own heart in his ears. That knotted ball of things, the one full of rope, strings, steel wire, as it all tightens inside his chest—and in his stomach.

Worst of all, he then feels your eyes land on him. Searching, cutting through the sheets he throws up as walls, desperate to press something warm to him, keep him rooted.

He takes a breath, feeling you willing him to. Appeasing you, even if you’ve not asked verbally, finding himself easily able to.

It’s always easy with you.

Just like it was the night he told you. Confessed it. Whispered it out on the floor, his back to the wall in the same bedroom he just had pressed you against.

I’d suspected it, honestly.

Your fingers brushing, carding through his curls until you pulled his head into your chest. A whole other sea of emotions bubbling, both of his long loves out of reach—even if one had their fingers buried in his curls, attempting to soothe him. The rest of his confession dying on his tongue, letting it rot, fester.

Because that one was and still is harder to confess.

It desperate to escape. Almost coming out the night you’d suggested he found you repulsive. Not knowing how wrong you were—

“Um…” you murmur, eyes digging further into him, practically clawing. Not to hurt, but to pull him back. “I don’t think I have—not since before?”

Frankie swallows. His heart hammering heavier, lifting his eyes and landing on you—and it all goes calm. Your face, like it always has been, is like a blanket that smothers the leftover hurt and anguish, an anchor that roots him in place.

“N-no. Not heard a thing,” he says, as plain as possible. Direct. Trying to hide the shake.

Because he can still feel your eyes on him. Focused, unwilling to leave his face as Will mutters and mumbles about something until he’s shouted away, beckoned by an overzealous neighbour, Frankie plants a smile on for, not moving to greet or speak to.

You say nothing.

But you do lift your shades. Smothering him in warmth and kindness, and a bit of sorrow too. Your teeth nursing the skin on your bottom lip, picking and picking.

Fuck he wishes he could tell you.

He wishes he could tell you that Pope knew—knows. Had already guessed it. Teased him on it before he dragged it out of him in the cold, rainy depths of Colombia.

You just have a thing for friends, Fish. That it!

It had ripped from his throat then. Shooting, spitting in mixed English and Spanish as he told Pope his feelings for you—how long they’d been there.

How they were messy. The same as his feelings had been for him. That they churned and turned for months with the conflicting ones he had for him.

That it has shaped him—the thing that neither of them talk about, but had let happen the handful of times it did.

And now he was repeating himself, but differently. This time, he suspected there was something more there. Something there in your eyes in the moments after he’s brought you to pleasure, it twinkling, it licking into his mouth when you kiss him, softer, desperate in a different way.

“Are you okay?”

“Come to mine. Tonight. After.”

You release your bottom lip. Staring. Thinking. “Are you going to take me home after?”

He tries not to let his face shift, but he fails. It falls and drops out over his features as you take a sip from the bottle in your hand.

“Frank…”

“You like my bed.”

You roll your eyes, brow slightly arched. You’re faking annoyance, he can tell. He can tell because you’re ticking, pondering. Weighing up the options of what difference one night would make to your principles.

“It’s not because of that.”

“No?” you say, arched brow and laced in sarcasm.

Fuck, he wants to take your hands. Pull them to his face. Because he doesn’t feel like that for him anymore. He hasn’t. Not for a long time.

Not since before he showed up with his plan, and his lies, and his mission that ended with Redfly’s death.

He wanted to let it roll from his tongue that he meant it that first night. That he has hated all of your exes for the reason you must think, deep down—the one you’re unwilling to question or acknowledge for the same reasons he won’t.

Because he’s scared. Because he knows he’s only worthy of being a dirty secret—not something real. Not something stable and concrete, things you truly deserve.

And, he wants to respect your wishes, your rules. But, he also wants to wake up beside you in his bed. Wanting nothing more than to have his cake and eat it too, because how could he not? How could he not want you there for one morning, when he wants you there every single day?

That thought was the one he had shouted, it burning the air between him and the man he now doesn’t hear from.

You gonna tell her? Depends on if we fuckin’ get outta here, doesn’t it?

He didn’t. Even if he did make it out, make it back. You in his arms, sobbing, worries running from your mouth to his ear as he held you—silently sobbing into your shoulder for reasons he has never explained.

Which is precisely why he doesn’t reach for your hands. It’s why he lets the silence thicken before he answers.

Because he knows he loves you.

“No,” he says firmly.

Hoping it’ll be enough. Hoping the finality of the word will inform you that, if anything, it’s in spite of the memory of his former friend, former brother-in-arms, former…

“I live closer to here,” he shrugs. Not wanting to admit that it’s for any other reason. “Means we’d be quicker to—“

“Morales!” you cut him off.

All stern, cute—as though he hadn’t had his fingers buried inside of you half an hour ago in his old room.

“How have you been sleeping?”

It’s a simple question, easy. Your lips around the straw, draining your cup before placing it on the grass, next to his empty bottle.

His fingers reaching up, itching the front of his fringe under his hat—your eyes following his movements, holding on to them, adding them to the mental notebook you’ve likely made.

Frankie shouldn’t be surprised that you remembered. The trip that lasted more days than it should have and left its own marks on you, too. Scarred you in ways that you can’t explain or ever get rid of.

“Fine. I guess, just…”

“I know,” you say with a faint smile. Forced. Placed there to soothe him, but it doesn’t do much.

You don’t play with the radio.

You don’t even really talk. Just drumming your fingers on the door, staring outside, letting streets pass the two of you, until he pulls up outside his place.

All the way, he thinks about apologising.

For everything, and yet for nothing all at once. His eyes sliding over to you as he drove down roads, turned his chin a little more to gather more of you as he turned a corner.

You don’t look at him until he turns the engine off. Head rolling on the back of the seat, the softest, most beautiful smile on your lips—one he wants to taste, feel moulded to his mouth. Capture and steal it, in case he never gets the chance to again.

“If you say you’ll stay, you haven’t broken the rules,” he whispers.

It is all quiet, except for the little noises made by the car as it cools and relaxes from its journey here.

Frankie hears you swallow, and then sigh.

“Won’t I be?”

Shaking his head, he turns to face you on the plastic seat. Palm cupping your cheek, thumb stroking soft lines, hoping it’ll ease you. Relax you.

“If you prefer me to take you home—“

Your eyes drop.

“—then I will. But…”

Your eyes flash back up to him, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. Even under twinkling lights, he can see each fleck of colour in them.

“But?” you whisper.

And he drags his thumb across your skin. “I just really want you to stay, for tonight.”

Sliding your lips to the side, your fingers move over his, pressing his palm to your cheek, giving him a smile—a gentle one, reassuring, sweet. “I want the right side. When you let me sleep.”

Smirking, he nudges closer, going to kiss you, but finding himself pressing a kiss to your forehead—one brimming with a smile.

Only realising he’s done so when he retracts.

Little lines appearing in your brow, gone, vanished in the next second, because then you’re moving closer, your lips on his—and for a brief, but pleasant moment, he forgets all of this isn’t real.

Falls into it, lets himself live there as he runs his hand up your thigh, before he’s dragging it over his. Uncaring that there’s a bed some so many feet away, he just runs his hands over your cheeks, along your jaw, thumbs on your neck—as he groans against your mouth.

Swallowing your moan, he fights a smirk at the way you rock your hips against him. Hand moving to your hip, pinning you—chasing your lips before kissing you again, and again.

Not ever having enough. Always wanting more.

As he has done for years. As he’s thought about for years.

Because there may have been others, but since he let himself think it, it’s always been you. A notion he kisses against your lips, writing them with his tongue against yours, content, happy.

“Can’t wait to spread you out on my bed, querida.”

He feels your lips spread into a smirk against his. “Can’t wait to have your cock down my throat again, Morales.”

He groans. Loud, almost undignified. Unsure how he got to be so lucky. Your fingers digging into the base of his neck.

CHAPTER FIVE ->

[vampdes]

— “MISSIN’ THE PARTY.” [being a jock meant you were absolutely obligated to throw ragers at least once a week. but what happens when ethan just can’t get enough of you? you give him what he wants, of course!]

GENRE. smut.

PAIRING. ethan landry x m!reader.

CW. lowercase implied, cheating implied, jock!reader ( briefly mentioned / implied ), nervous!ethan, big dick!ethan, a lot of sexual fantasies ( ethan ), oral implied ( reader receiving ), top!ethan / bottom!reader.

NOTES. this coulda been better, ima be real, ive js been waitin to post this tho so ima js rip the bandaid off. enjoy! ⭐ ( @asukases )

it started simple, easy. he’d tutor you, congratulate you when you had gotten a problem right and easily correct you when you’d gotten a problem wrong.

obviously, you’d be rightfully confused and frustrated when he’d laugh at ‘how much of a book-like jock’ you are. nevertheless, the sessions went on and on and on. you learned more about him as time went on, as he did about you. well, he learned more about you because you’re rather talkative. you told him about the football team, even provided him with the practice schedule, you told him about your girlfriend, the head cheerleader for the football team, and about how difficult it was getting. you’d mainly tell him about her because you just couldn’t understand her.

“i don’t get it. like, i’m hot, i’m strong, i’m the literal definition of “everything a girl could ever need”, you know? all i want, every once in a while, mind you, is a little action, that’s it. even a quickie would work, for fucks sake!”, you wailed about your numerous ‘issues’ with your girlfriend as the two of you sat on the bleachers, watching as your captain directed the younger members of the team for being ‘incompetent players’.

you groaned in annoyance before returning to the main point of your conversation, “but, no. she still has to have so many excuses, like all i want is some fuckin’ sex. like bro, you don’t know how hard it’s been. it’s been seven months! seven! i can’t even sleep with any of the girls in the sorority down the road because they say it’s against their rules. eugh, i just don’t understand it.”. ethan’s eyebrows rose and his lips formed a small, slight grin numerous times during your very one-sided conversation regarding your relationship.

“no ‘cause, if i were a girl, i’d fuck me! mad sex too. i’d even fuck ..” you paused, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought of someone to consider fucking hypothetically, “.. you.” you smiled at ethan, letting out a loud laugh after you had watched his face morph into a flustered one. “i mean, hell, you’re .. somewhat fit, so why not, right?”.

ethan’s tongue slid over his lower, rose pink lip at the thought of fucking you as though you were a girl. the idea of getting you riled up, whimpering, moaning and begging for more of him was nothing but a feverish dream. his fingers stretching you, thrusting inside of you, touching the most sensational parts of you that you never dared to touch yourself. you’d be demanded to thrust on his fingers, to prep yourself on your own in order to fit all of him inside of you, and you’d hesitantly do so. your hips would start slow as though you were scared of how good you’d feel, but then, the feeling of you being able to have such a power over ethan would make you cave in. you’d become an animal and rut on his fingers as your teeth bit into the pillow beneath you. you never, ever knew you could feel so good.

“.. ethan? bro? practice is over, dude. we gotta get back to the dorm and get ready for the rager tonight.”

for fucks sake, you never knew how to shut up. it annoyed him so fucking much, just shut up for once, will you? if he had the chance, just a slight, slight chance, he’d put you in the place where you belonged: quivering beneath him with your wrists bound and cock sore.

but, “alright, lets go!” was all he could respond with. he didn’t want to lose his golden boy by scaring him off with his wild, erotic fantasies that only amplified when you’d strip in front of him, forcing him to shove a pillow on top of his already tight jeans.

by the time the two of you had made it to the dorm the two of you shared, it was well past party-time and you’d have to rush in order to get ready. ethan, on the other hand, wasn’t too keen on the idea of becoming so drunk to the point where he couldn’t even stand on his own ( aka what you did after he had to bring you back to campus after the last frat party you hosted ).

unfortunately, for him, the ideals from earlier were still playing like a movie inside of his mind. he couldn’t recall how many things he wanted to do to you, to do with you. oh god, fucking hell. you just didn’t know how hard you made him, how much you made him ache in the middle of the nights and in the dawn of the mornings. you made him whine, squeal, cry for more of you. more of you touch, of your taste, of your sound. more of you to cover with cum. more of you to mark with his numerous substances. fuck, please stop teasing him. he won’t be able to control himself, not tonight. especially not after the show you’re giving him at the moment.

that’s when you came out of your walk-in wardrobe and asked him what he thought of your shirt. you wore nothing but a slim, almost see through pair of boxers and a tight fitting shirt that rose over your belly button and squeezed around your chest. the fabric was so tight that it rubbed against your nipples every time you moved. “mm.. on second thought, nevermind. it’s rubbin’ me in all the wrong places, fuck, don’t think i can take it off by myself though. could you help me?”.

his eyes flitted away from your thighs and instead to your torso that was obviously visible through the shirt. wait—wait, you wanted help with taking off your shirt? the shirt that made you look so, so fucking good? obviously he had to oblige!

“c’mere, i’ll get it off for you.” he’ll do more than get it off of you. he’ll gladly get off on you.

you stood in front of him, obliging to his “eyes closed” request. “jus’ do it quickly, the party’s going to end soon.”. you felt the sharp tips of his fingernails scrap across your waist before he started to scale upwards, loving the feeling of the sides of your torso to your plump chest and perky nipples. “ethan! you’re ‘posed to be taking the shirt off!” you whined, “i wanna be in time for the party, c’mon!”.

ethan laughed, “fine, fine. just teasing you, love, just teasing.” he let out a huff of air as he gripped the ends of the said tight fitting t-shirt and started to tug at it. “what’re you doing? jus’ take it off!” you were starting to complain, so he did as you said, he ripped it. the thin seams tore easily, straight down the middle which produced the new idea for his next fantasy.

“oh well, that’s one way to get it off of me, i guess.”

before you could pull away to discard the now loosely fitting shirt, ethan hooked his arms around your waist and looked up at you with his perfected “puppy eyed” look. you placed your hand on top of his ruffled hair, sinking your fingers inside of his many curls. “what is it, hm? you want something, so jus’ tell me.”.

he squeezed you tighter, “can we do it?”.

“‘it’? you mean fucking?”.

“no, no! not—not that. i just .. want to feel you. please?”.

for fucks sake, just say yes already. he watched your face contort from an expression of confusion to shock. please, please say yes! you have to, please. he never asks for anything, he just wants to feel you! it’s a normal ask, no? you let your girlfriend do it! so why couldn’t he? your best friend since grade school, c’mon! please.

“fine, fuck. jus’—hah, jus’ don’t tell her about this, alright?”.

ethan became giddy as though he was celebrating his birthday twice a year, a smile adorning his features. he stood, intertwining your hands with his own before instructing you to lay on the bed that he had just stood from. to wich you obliged whilst reminding him he only had a few minutes to complete his desired feel for you before you had to leave for the party. he mumbled a ‘fine’ before helping you discard of the torn shirt, leaving you in only a pair of socks and your—rather tight—briefs.

ethan parted your legs, feeling from the underside of your thighs to the plushness of your hips. his jeans felt entirely too tight, he wanted to fuck you like a damn animal. ruthless. with no mercy. he wanted to make you cry only to shut you up. he wanted to make you shake, to make you wither beneath him with only the feverish feeling of him fucking you keeping you steady. he lefts your hips and trailed down to the brim of your briefs. the nail of his pointer finger trailed the outline of your cock, producing a quiet whimper to leave you lips.

“no, ethan—fuck–you can’t, you know you can’t.”

ethan only smiled, “but i can, no? you know how much you want me to blow you. fuckin’ hell, you say i do it better than your girl. c’mon, just once?”.

“ .. just once, alright? then, i’m leaving, swear.”

“fine, fine,” he responded in between the soft, slow kisses he pressed against the cloth of your briefs, “i’ll be quick, promise.”.

ethan being ‘quick’ soon turned into your face stuffed into a pillow and your nails burrowing themselves into the sheets. your many pleads for him to calm down, to stop acting as though he was an animal during its rut, fell on deaf ears. it was well past the time of the party, you realized, you could’ve been drinking, doing keg stands, but no, you had to give into his request.

ethan leaned into you, pressing his chest against your back whilst biting at your neck. he whispered your name. whiny, desperate, greedy.

“ffuck, oh fuck, you’re so good f’me, fuck ..”, his hips erratically chased his fifth orgasm of the night. his desire to see his cum spill from your swollen hole was more than enough to keep his fast, desperate rhythm. “c’mon—hah,” he raised himself from his current position, snapping his hips to delve himself deeper within you. ethan grabbed at your hair, forcing you to raise your head. “say it. say you’re a good fuckin’ slut for me.”

“m’such—ah!—m’such a good fuck–mm, ffuckin’ slut f’you! i am, i am, i am. ah, hah, fuck, wait, wait—i, oh god, i can’t! too .. too much, ethan!”.

your inconsistent babbles made his head spin. fuck, can his boy get any cuter?

he laughed at the thought. his long, slender fingers ran up your back before stopping at your lower lip, “open.” he commanded. “what? wh—”, in the middle of your sentence, he pushed two of his fingers inside of your mouth. a choked gag came from you, which amused him. even though his fingers were slim, they fit inside your mouth so well. ethan’s fingers laid still on tongue, his fingernails nipped at the back of your throat. such length provided him with muffled groans and moans from you.

his cock rubbed against the spots that provided you the most pleasure, making you cry out and grovel beneath him. saliva coated his fingers, tears covered your cheeks, and cum coated the cream colored sheers beneath you. ethan’s thick, sticky tip abused your prostate repeatedly making you cry out his name in incoherent moans with dilated pupils.

“i guess it is too much for you, mm.” he mumbled, rubbing his thumb on your sticky, pre-cum stained tip, feeling at how you twitched beneath him. you clenched around him as you came, which, in turn, made him fill your velvet insides with his copious amounts of cum. “ffuck, oh—ooh god,”, he whined, biting his lower lip as he slowly pulled out of you, watching as ropes of his cum covered your stomach that was beaded with sweat. ehan’s cum not only covered your stomach but also spilling out of your gaping, swollen hole. ethan watched intently, enjoying the sight before him.

with the party mindset far behind you, you missed the touch of his prying, groping hands on your body. “what? do you want more?” he mocked, watching as you whined for his hands to be all over you once more. “fine.” he smiled, his hands up and down your plush thighs, “just .. a few more times alright?”.

© CREDITS TO ur1nonlydan. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORKS

[https-florals]

you said, baby, no attachments - r.c.

part one || part two

word count: 2k

summary: after a very stupid, very impulsive night with rafe, you make a lot of  questionable decisions.

warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive!!! friends-with-benefits but without the friends, mentions of drinking, cursing, little angst, little fluff.

a/n:  FIRST EVER RAFE FIC!!!!! i have such a massive crush on drew starkey and tbh i’m shocked ive waited this long to write my bae rafe. anywayssss if this doesnt flop lol there may or may not be a pt 2 im working on!!! my plan is for this to have four parts, but that could change and i might condense it. this is based on casual by chappell roan!!

Stupid things have good outcomes all the time. JJ lives by that phrase, and after hearing it for years, it’s rubbed off on you. But apparently, that’s not a good excuse in an argument with him, and here you are, palms sweaty and slipping off your bike handles, repeating the words over and over and over like you’re trying to convince yourself they’re true.

Today’s stupid thing? Responding to a text from none other than Rafe Cameron. Okay, that’s been your stupid thing for about a month.

You had a little thing going with Rafe. It started at a party, a drunk hookup, neither participant quite realizing who the other was until they woke up in bed together. You had practically run from Tannyhill like the house was on fire, only after both of you fought a little, fucked a little more, and then promised never to speak of it again. You had thought that this pact also entailed speaking to each other, but about a week later Rafe caught you at work, smiled at you, and hit you with some stupid line you couldn’t quite remember. Something about being the prettiest girl in the room, which wasn���t exactly hard, considering you were indeed the only girl in the room as you worked the counter at the country club’s pro shop. When he slipped back his signed receipt to you, there were 10 digits scrawled across the bottom below his signature. 

“Rafe, what is this?” you had to ask, tone a mix between a laugh and a sigh. 

He shrugged, and attempted to grab his bag and run out, but you slid the fancy paper bag away from him. “I thought that we said we weren’t gonna talk to each other anymore,” you had stated softly, smiling at the way his cheeks tinted a little pink.

“Nah, I said I didn’t wanna talk about it,” he stressed, “But talking to you is way different.”

You just rolled your eyes and pushed the bag back to him, and he waved you goodbye as he left.

You can count on one hand all the interactions you’ve had with that boy, and that had to be the oddest. Well, maybe not as odd as having sex with him.

A week passed before you texted him. It wasn’t for anything really important, a scolding, if anything. All you did was remind him that again, he can’t just randomly take his shirt off while golfing. It’s a sophisticated establishment, the old ladies complain, blah, blah, blah. His response?

rafe c. - so you’re saying i distract you?

Yes, unfortunately, that is exactly what you’re saying.

The situations just get weirder, when the first time the two of you hang out is when you call him for a ride to the grocery store. No one’s at the Chateau, you’re out of gas, and every form of transportation you could possibly steal for a bit is with their respective owners. You doubt you could’ve balanced on JJ’s bike anyways.

The ride is a little awkward, but by the end you feel.. Comfortable. At peace, almost, in the Kook prince’s passenger seat with his hand ghosting over your knee. In the grocery store, it’s painfully obvious Rafe has never been shopping for food in The Cut. He’s wrinkling his nose at the cheap prepackaged salmon you buy, with generic bread crumbs. But then he helps you comb through the bell peppers to find decent ones, and carries your groceries to his truck. He even lets you play whatever you want over the aux.

You’re waking up with him in your bed the next morning, pushing him out the window so no one sees him.

And that’s how it starts, and how it continues- brief text convos, long hangouts, good sex and fake nonchalance. He stays true to what he said, and you don’t talk about it. To anybody. That was the whole thing- it was understood that it was a secret. No strings attached, forbidden kind of kook and pogue relations that would have your friends livid.

So why are you so nervous on this particular evening? Maybe it’s because Rafe let it slip to Sarah that you’re hooking up. Maybe cause Sarah just had to say something to John B, who then told JJ, who then fought with you in front of the entire group. Everyone knows, and everyone is telling you you’re crazy. It’s not something you can handle, so when you see that Rafe asked you to come over, you’re hopping on your bike and speeding to Tannyhill. 

When you get there, you automatically rush into Rafe’s room, a sweaty mess.

He’s laying on his bed, in just boxers as he scrolls on his phone. He jumps when you walk in, setting his phone down quick and standing up like you’re the queen or something.

Your gaze tracks to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues on his nightstand, and you groan and fake gag as you flop facedown onto the mattress. 

There’s an almost soundless little intake of air, but you do hear it, and cut Rafe off before he can even speak. 

“I’m not helping you get off!” you declare loudly, and the boy visibly deflates.

“Come on,” he whines, like a little kid not getting his way. “You came in at the perfect time.”

You roll over so he’s in your peripheral vision, and huff. “I’m mad at you.”

He sticks his bottom lip out, a little mocking as he crawls onto the bed beside you. “Awe, what’d I do now?” Rafe lays on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watches you. He likes to watch the way his lamp reflects in your eyes, and how you roll your eyes everytime you catch him staring at you. His fingers creep up your side, but you push him off. Oh. You really are mad, he thinks.

“Why would you tell Sarah?” you ask, voice quiet as you stare him down. The apples of his cheeks turn a little pink, and his eyes widen.

“Uh, what did I tell her?” Rafe lies, because he remembers exactly what he said to Sarah, and the way her jaw dropped after he spoke.

“I just- I really like her, Sarah. Forget about the sex and all that shit. When I’m talking to her, it feels like…” He’s stumbling over his words, not quite able to say what he wants. “She’s fresh air, and I feel like I’ve been stuck in a room without windows, or some shit.” 

He was never much of a poet. He also remembers the vise-like grip she had on his arm as she told him she would kill him if he ever hurt you. Rafe promised he could never.

But right now he lies, lies and tries to level his voice. He’s a little shocked that you believe him, or at least don’t press the topic further.

“You told her we were sleeping together!” You hiss, lightly smacking him on the side of his head.

He winces, but internally he’s heaving a sigh of relief. He makes a mental note to never get drunk with his sister ever again as you continue to rant. It’s something about the Pogues wanting to kill him (nothing new), along with a couple of jabs about how he’s just the worst, and that he's annoying, and blah, blah, blah. Rafe isn’t really listening, rather just thinking about his stupid decisions. One of which is looking real pretty as she yells at him. Pretty enough to fall in love with. He absentmindedly tucks your hair behind your ear and you instantly exhale, losing your train of thought altogether in record time. It’s like you have the attention span of a damn goldfish around him.

You just groan again, and murmur, “I can’t stand you,” right before you press your lips to his.

Rafe laughs against you, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. “Good thing you’re sitting on top of me then.”

His hands slip under your shirt, and your fingers push through his hair. The calluses on his hands scrape against the soft skin of your stomach and catch on the lace of your bra. Hard hands for daddy’s money, you think. Your fingers tuck against his jawline, cradling his face while his tongue slips against yours, his lips curling up when you make any little noise.

You pull back to catch your breath, and Rafe just stares up at you, kind of punchdrunk.

“Rafe?”

“Mhm?” He reaches up to brush his thumb over your lips.

You’re silent for a second as you think about what you’re about to say. ‘What- What are we doing?”

Rafe’s mouth is parted, and you can’t quite decipher his expression as you watch his eyes flick over your face. He swallows, and says, “Whatever you want.”

You don’t really hear him, and blurt out, “I need this to be casual.”

“Casual?” he repeats.

“Strictly like, sex. No strings attached.”

He sits up, pulling you with him so you’re still on his lap but he’s eye level to you. He’s hard underneath you, but you ignore it as you continue to speak. 

“Okay, just sex. Why?”

It’s actually very hard to ignore, literally and figuratively. Rafe is thinking the same thing when you clear your throat and move a little on him, subconsciously. 

You shrug. “Listen, I don’t have the time for anything more than that. Plus, we know we couldn’t date, like ever.”

He nods, fake-stretching as a means to buck up against you. “And why couldn’t we date?” When you give him an incredulous look, he continues, “Just to play devil’s advocate. Not that I don’t agree with you, cause I totally do. I just wanna know what you’re like, thinking, if we’re on the same wavelength, or whatever…” He trails off, knowing he’s babbling and should stop.

You laugh a little nervously. “Okay, Cameron.” You take a deep breath, and hope that what you’re about to say makes sense. “I have an itch to scratch, and the only thing I want to do is scratch that itch.” You pause to think. “Itch that scratch?”

“You had it right the first time,” Rafe laughs, but the lilt of it is a little annoyed.

“Okay, whatever. Anyway, you’re good at scratching that itch.”

He grins with pride, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, and just the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm.

“Really good at scratching that itch,” you exhale a little shaky. “But y’know, I don’t really like you as a person.”

His eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide. “The fuck? Thanks a lot.”

“You’re an asshole, Rafe. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but come on.” You’re thinking of all the times he’s been an absolute dick to your friends.

He’s thinking about all the things he’d lay down for you. “Not to you.”

Your words evidently sting him a bit, and you go red. You hadn’t really meant to hurt him.

You groan. “You know what I mean. My friends hate you. We just couldn’t work.”

Rafe doesn’t really know what to say. This isn’t really the way he thought this would go, but then again, what did he really expect? Everything is jumbled in his head, and all he wants to do is get high and forget about the conversation. But, even though you basically just told him that he's unlikable, you’re still regrettably pretty, and still on top of him. He grips your hips hard, holding you in place as he rolls against you. “So fuck buddies, but we can’t stand each other?” One hand snakes underneath your shirt to unclip your bra, and he does it faster than you can blink.

“Exactly,” you say somewhere in between both of your shirts coming off. “Just stress relief.”

His hands are hot all over you. There’s a hardness in his gaze that’s so different from the softness of his touch.

“We have to have rules,” you manage to state when you’re shimmying out of your shorts, breathing hard while Rafe toys with the little pink bow on your panties.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.”

It’s a filler phrase, you think. He must desperate for you to shut up and fuck him, so he’s saying anything. 

He’s still thinking about how he’d do anything for you. Anything.

You still for a second to catch your breath, and say, “No feelings. No staying overnight. And we can’t go anywhere together that we would be seen.”

“Why not?” Rafe groans as your clothed heat slips over him.

“Rafe! People will talk. They’ll think…”

He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. “That we’re fucking? Well, hate to break it to ya, baby, but we kinda already are.”

“And no calling me baby.”

Rafe ignores you and slips his hand between your legs, and you forget that you’re supposed to hate him.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[eepwriting]

Hi, can i ask for an Ivy fic pls?

I've been thinking bout the way he dances on stage & how he would do it like in a club or a party with his partner starting all shy just holding a grip on her hips to finally lose himself to dance with her... 👉🏽👈🏽

I Don’t Dance ✶ IV x GN! Reader

Warnings: drinking, kissing

Oh wow this idea is so cute!! Thanks for the request 🤍

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

IV was slightly appalled at the idea.

“You guys want to head to the club after this?”

When the two of you were invited out for a late dinner with a group of friends, you both were excited to get out, relax and spend some quality time with each other and your small group. The dinner had came and went and by 10pm iv was ready to get home and relax on the couch. He didn’t want to be that friend. With the excited look on your face after the question, and the way you quickly turned to him in search for an answer, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

With an almost unanimous (and excited) “yes!” from the table, your small group gathered their things and made their way out of the restaurant. The chosen club was only a few blocks down the street, and it was a nice night so no one was opposed to walking. You and iv hung in the back of the group, your hand clasped around his bicep as you walked.

“I’m so excited! I haven’t been dancing in so long.” You squeezed iv’s arm in joy, your excitement evident on your face.

“I’m just glad I can come along with you.” IV tried his best to seem somewhat interested.

The two of you hadn’t been together for long, a couple months at most. The different sides of him were still slowly coming out, including his fun, energetic side. You had been to a concert together and the most he did was rock on his feet and bop his head to the music. You knew he had good rhythm musically, so there just had to be some good moves in there somewhere, and you were determined to get him dancing tonight.

You could already hear the music from the club before you even came to a stop in front of its doors. Someone in the group got a head count of everyone and announced that everyone should meet back outside no later than 1am. You all filed through the door, your own excitement growing.

The high energy of the place made your insides buzz. Colorful lights, light fog and fast upbeat music filled the somewhat small club. It was a pretty busy night, people filled the booths around the perimeter, a few barstools left open and a few small groups on the dance floor.

A friend had managed to snag a large corner booth just as a group was leaving. Having a central area to meet and keep your belongings was always a plus. A few in the group slid into the booth, a few huddled together excitedly before running to the dance floor.

“You want a drink?” IV looked at you, hooking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bar.

“Sure! One won’t hurt.”

You didn’t need the alcohol to have fun but iv insisted that he’d pay for your drinks so why not? Plus you hadn’t been clubbing for a while so you might as well go all out.

The bartender slide your drink as well as iv’s over, along with two shots of clear liquid. “Vodka! It’s on the house!” She yelled over the music. I guess she really was thankful when you complimented her outfit.

You gave iv a surprised look and shrugged slightly, raising your shot glass towards him. He clinked his against yours before lifting his mask to down the shot. The alcohol felt cool in your throat before settling in your stomach. You took one sip of your drink before you heard the ecstatic voices of two of your girl friends.

“Come dance! We’ve been waiting for you!” They each grab ahold of an arm and drag you away. You somehow manage to not spill your drink in the process, taking another sip before the next song starts.

It felt nice to just let go again. They were playing good music tonight, everyone on the floor was fun and exciting to be around. You and your friends danced for a good 3 songs, laughing, jumping around, meeting new people to dance with. Every so often your head swiveled to the bar, always seeing iv watching you from his seat. He’d give you a small wave every time you caught his eye, sometimes a smile. At least, what you could tell was a smile.

Needing a break and a refill you broke away from your friends. Pushing your way through the now denser crowd. Your one drink and shot gave you a pleasant buzz, enough to make the night even more enjoyable.

“Ivyyy, you’re still here?” You walk up to him, your fingers dancing up his arms, stopping to sit on his shoulders. His legs are slightly spread on the stool and you nudge them open more to stand between them. “Come dance with me.” You give him your most pleading eyes and slight pout.

His hands come to rest on the back of your thighs and he shrugs “I don’t dance. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Maybe not now, but it’s so fun! C’mon, just one song. Please?” You pull on the sides of his jacket.

He gives you a blank stare and lets out a huff before slowly standing to his feet. “Fine. One song.” You cheer excitedly, grabbing his hand, ushering him to the dance floor.

You turn around to face him, grab ahold of his hands and place them on your own hips. “We can just sway a little! We don’t have to do anything crazy.” You yell out. IV gives you a small nod and squeezes your hips. He was clearly out of his comfort zone, eyes darting around to look at those around him, body stiff and somewhat robotic. You pull him a little closer, smiling up at him, swaying your hips.

He eventually starts to do the same. His hips slowly moving side to side, his head bopping in beat to the song. His grip loosens slightly on your hips. “See? Not so bad huh?” You laugh out.

He shrugs. “I guess not.” You think you hear him let out a shy laugh.

The two of you dance that way a while longer. IV getting more and more relaxed. At one point even letting his arm come up to point at the ceiling. A new songs starts and he freezes. His eyes, wide and excited look to you. “I know this song! I haven’t heard it in years.” He hurriedly pulls you to him, jumping slightly on the balls of his feet. “I can dance to this!” His eyes are shining with a bright smile.

You’re not certain if it’s the round of songs or the couple drinks working their magic but it’s like he’s a completely different person. He’s jumping, screaming out lyrics if he know them, crouching down to your level to passionately sing the words in your face. He’s twirling you around, spinning you so your back is against his chest, wrapping his arms around you and swaying. He doesn’t even hesitate to do the classic: arms up, jump and sing move.

You can’t help but pause just to look at him. Your heart is so full of admiration. He’s letting you see this side of him more.

“You’re right, this is fun!” He calls out to you, bringing you in, lifting his mask and placing a passionate kiss on your mouth. He pulls away, out of breath from dancing and gives you a goofy smile. Your heart swells even more.

You excuse yourself, needing a sip of water and a minute to catch your breath. Even you can’t keep up with this new side of iv. You watch from the bar as he dances like he’s the only one here, his body moving smoothly with the music, as if he feels every note and beat. He even made 2 new friends, the three guys all clapping each other on the shoulders, heads thrown back in laughter. You’re so glad you asked him to dance with you.

A friend soon after drags you back out and you’re back at iv’s side. You have time for one last song before you’re supposed to meet back up with your group.

IV comes up behind you again, wrapping himself around you. He’s swaying, pointing to his new friends as the three of them shout out the lyrics to the song. Your insides are warm and fuzzy, partly from the alcohol but mostly due to the man behind you. His energy is almost intoxicating.

The last few beats of the song die out and iv slumps over you, curling forward and bringing you with him. “Shit, I’m tired.” He’s breathless.

You laugh, gently push him off and spin around. “I think it’s time to go anyway.” You swear you can see a frown form under his mask, but don’t mention it.

IV calls out a goodbye to his new friends and the two of you make your way back the booth to collect your belongings. A few friends are there doing the same.

“Hey, I thought you didn’t dance?” One of them calls out to iv.

He gives a sheepish shrug and smiles down at you before answering. “I guess that’s not completely true. But don’t expect this to be a regular thing.” Your friends just laugh.

Outside, you bid your friends a farewell before you call for a ride. You and iv walk a short way down the sidewalk, wanting to get away from the loud atmosphere of the club. He stops off to the side before pulling you into a hug. His arms wrap above your shoulders, yours coming to settle on his back. “Thanks for letting me dance with you.” He places a kiss on the top of your head.

You let out a small laugh. “Thank you for agreeing to dance with me.” He lets out a quiet hum as he squeezes you tight, swaying slowly.

He was partly right. Him dancing didn’t become a regular thing but from then on, he never said no to some silly little dancing.

Of course, only if he knew you’d be there to see it.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

I had so much fun writing this! Hope you like it! Thank you again for the request 🤍

As always, if you’d like to see anything just let me know.

K, bye bye

[mopeyy]

Forgotten Love (Last Part)

Nor x Fem Na'vi Reader

angst/fluff

Summary: Reader is in love with Nor, but he's still in love with her dead sister.

Inspired by this post!!

You and Nor use to speak everyday, but now you've went a full week without talking. After your confession there was just no point in speaking to him. You knew he was going to reject you and you didn't need to hear him say it. It would hurt too much. Of course you missed talking to him, he's your best friend. But you couldn't look at him knowing that he didn't feel the same.

He hadn't made any attempt to speak to you. Mostly just looking at you from the corner of his eye. Or sharing a forced smile when you passed one another. It was exhausting really, but neither of you tried to fix it.

--------------------------

You had recently took down a big RDA drilling facility, reducing the pollution percentage by a significant amount. So tonight the resistance was celebrating. The headquarters were filled with colorful party decorations and dancing music. You knew the humans were having a good time, but it didn't really feel like you needed to be there. You turnt to leave before hearing someone calling your name. "Y/n! y/n!" it was Teylan. He came running over to you, Cleary excited about the party. "Where do you think your going? this party is all about you." He smiled, nervously adjusting the cap on his head. "Im just going out to get some air Teylan. Ill be back in soon." You promised. He exaggerated a long sigh and told you to come back soon as he walked away. You softly shook your head and laughed at teylans antics.

You walked outside and found yourself sitting at a little pond that leads towards the waterfall. it was a nice kind of quiet, the only noise being the muffled music from the party. It was dark, allowing you to see all the stars in the sky. When you were in the RDA they didn't let you and the others outside much. they were scared that if you saw what was out there it would tempt you all to run away. After escaping the RDA you were never anywhere but outside. You stared at the pond in front of you, watching how the water would ripple when a little fish swam by. You smiled, dipping your legs into the pond for the cool relief the water gave you. You couldn't believe the RDA had kept this world from you for 15 years.

After a while of sitting there you heard foot steps behind you. You didn't turn around, you already knew who it was. "Done with the party?" Nor took a seat beside you and raised his brows in question. You only took a quick glance at him before turning your attention back to the water. "Yea, it's kinda hard to dance with all the tiny people around." you smiled, turning to look at him. He was already looking at you. He laughed and shook his head, "I guess it wasn't the best idea to put Na'vi and people into one room." He joked. Silence overtook you as neither of you knew what to say. You played with your hands trying to distract yourself from the awkward atmosphere. Nor cleared his throat to get your attention, "Listen y/n I...about what happened that night-" you cut him off, "Nor I already know what your gonna say and its just going to hurt more if I hear it so please don't." He shook his head and placed a gentle hand on your arm. "You don't know what im going to say, so please just...listen." he pleaded.

You nodded and he slid his hand off your arm. "I was thinking about everything and I wanted to apologize. Ive always admired Aha'ri and her bravery, and I may have had a small crush on her when we were kids. But that's all it was, a childish crush. That night when you found me, I was scared. Scared of how new everything is. I think I was talking about her because I wish I had some of that bravery too. Ive been thinking about what you said and you're right. You have always been there for me and I was too blind to see it." He saw how your attention was focused on the sky. He put his hand on your chin, turning you to face him. His green eyes piercing, as if they could see right through you. "If you'll let me, id like to be there for you too."

Your ears twitched, revealing the emotion you were trying so hard to hide. You had thought that he came out here to reject you, but it was the complete opposite. You wanted him to feel the same way about you, but you had to make sure it was for the right reasons. You tilted your head up at him and opened your mouth to speak, "Nor, I don't just want to be a reminder of my sister. I want you to want me, not just be with me because you can't have her."

He shook his head, his eyes saddening at your worries. "y/n believe me, that is not it at all. I want you. I want your smile, your laughter, your humor, your kindness, your beauty. You. Not anybody else." He reassured you.

You smiled at him, letting out a soft laugh. "Well then you can have me." He smiled at this and leaned in as your lips met. You had never thought things would end this way but you didn't mind as the kiss deepened and your hands combed through his hair. You knew now that everything would be alright.

Tagslist!

@avatar-of-envy-levi

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Ror fam with their teenage child getting invited to a party and hours later getting a desperate call from them, because some they thought they trusted ruffed their drink. Now their cold, in the woods, intoxicated from the drugged drink, and having a predator ( the one who drugged them ) trying to find them in the woods.

HEAVY HURT/ COMFORT!!!

-You had gone out to a party with you friends hours ago, nothing out of the ordinary, as you were meant to be home soon, as it neared midnight, a few of your massive family still awake, to make sure you arrived home safely.

-Hades was surprised when his phone started to ring, showing your picture and he answered, but before he could say anything he heard your scared and desperate voice, “Papa! I-I need your help! The party- there-there was someone- he spiked my drink! I’m hiding in the forest- he’s chasing me Papa- I-I’m scared!” he swallowed hard as his heart leapt to his throat, “Y/N, stay calm, we’re on our way.”

-He sounded the alarm, those whom he woke up were pissed until they heard that you were in trouble, and many ran out, half dressed, charging to your rescue.

-They quickly entered the forest where you were hiding, if they could call it a forest, it was just a dense park in the center of town.

-You could hear people shouting out your name, your family members, but you couldn’t call back, the guy who was after you was only a few meters away, and you were hiding, trying to keep quiet, your hands over your mouth to mask your harsh, gasping pants.

-Your head was beginning to hurt, your eyes spinning from the drugs.

-A hand clapped down on your shoulder and your whirled around and instantly a piercing scream escaped your lips.

-Your family all heard you scream, running towards you, Buddha and Poseidon finding you first, seeing the guy on top of you, backhanding you, your shirt torn off, and they both saw red.

-Buddha ran forward, instantly kicking him off of you and you gasped, seeing him before someone slid to a stop next to you, kneeling down and you saw Poseidon.

-You quickly sat up and lunged into his arms, hugging him tightly around his neck, loud sobs escaping you as you clutched at him.

-His arms were quick to wrap around you, holding you tightly, trying to ground you as the others were quick to make it to you, seeing the state you were in.

-Police and the paramedics had both been called, the boy being taken away after getting a Buddha-sized ass beating, and you were taken to the hospital.

-You weren’t terribly injured, a black eye, a shiner on your cheek, a busted lip, and you had to get an IV to get the drugs out of your system.

-The police had been sent to the party you had fled from, to make sure nobody else had been drugged, thankfully not, but your friends had been horrified to learn what had happened to you.

-You ended up spending the night in the hospital, as you ended up almost going into shock from the traumatic experience and the drugs in your system, just to be safe.

-Odin and Thor were the ones to pick you up the next morning, Odin holding you close while Thor drove.

-You were rather numb for the next couple of days, not really interacting with anyone, unless they crawled into bed with you to cuddle with you.

-They were grateful when you finally broke, sobbing loudly as you clutched Ares tightly, his arms wrapped around you, making you feel secure and safe.

-You were more open after you calmed down, smiling and interacting with your loved ones, but they could tell you were still a bit shy, not speaking as much, but you were healing, slowly but surely.

[vintagehellfire]

All For Show | E.M

Musician!Eddie x Showgirl!reader

summary: 1955 New York City, where dreams come true. You get to dance and perform for crowds every night, bringing in good money for yourself and for daddy’s jazz club. The regulars love you, the women envy you, and the musicians are strictly banned from flirting with you (and the other dancers of course). This wasn’t a problem until your father up and coming musician Eddie Munson to perform at his jazz club. Eddie was the first man to catch your eye, and you the first performer to be worth his time, and your fathers wrath.

warnings: implied female reader, mysoginy, eventual smut, swearing, no use of y/n, nudity, drugs, smoking, slow-burn, alcohol, anger issues, controlling father, derogatory names against reader, talks of abusive childhood, 18+ only. mdni

Chapter IV: I’m Kind of Nervous but it Sure Is Fun | 12.2k words

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The question lingered in the open air temporarily, not so much an inquiry of whether you actually knew of Reuben’s but much more a warm invitation to the establishment in itself. There was a teasing smirk that adorned Eddie’s features, a mischief, and a certain glint in his eyes that spelled out trouble. Trouble that you actually wanted to get in, trouble that you wanted to dive headfirst into without thinking of the consequences. His intonation gave him away and yet you couldn’t help but allow your heart to flutter at his suggestion.

That’s how you and Eddie make your way over to Reuben’s — it was a brisk eleven minute walk from Latin Quarter to Reuben’s. The diner sat on 6 E 58th and seemed to be bustling with life at this strange hour. Most people were stumbling over their own feet trying to find the front door, unsteady hands trying to grab at the door handle and stabilize themselves enough to let themselves in for a post party snack. It was tradition for beatniks and dollies* to frequent the diner in the wee hours of the morning. The neon sign in front adorning the large lettering flirted with you, inviting you in for a bite, and if that wasn’t enough, the doorman beckoned you and Eddie forward with a wave of his gloved hand and a polite smile. Once you stepped in, the hustle and bustle faded out and was replaced by a black and gold world of a sort of art nouveau style from the tail end of the mid thirties. It was charming and warm, nothing to scoff at, and best of all was that if you weren’t coming from a night of jive they still had what it took to meet your needs.

Both you and Eddie settled into a booth, paying attention to each other, tending to who was to go forth and choosing their seat first. If Eddie had been any braver he would have wrapped his arm around your waist and led you to his favourite seat in the house but as reality proved it, the curly haired musician was too chickenshit to initiate such an intimate gesture - it would overstep an imaginary line that you’ve both already crossed. And so with grace, you slid into the seat opposite of the man, back towards the front door, and consequently the general public. You cared not for the idle chatter of the other patrons, nor for the rowdiness of those who had overindulged, no, you had eyes and ears for nobody but Eddie.

Soon after having sat down, a waitress came by with the menus and a jug of water, filling up your glasses before telling you that she’d be back in a moment to take your orders. You and Eddie clearly needed a moment to make your decisions - with a menu so extensive it wasn't easy but the longer your eyes trailed over the yellowed paper, the more appeal the simpler things had. Especially after a night of drinking. As you finished looking over the menu, your eyes flicked over the musician’s features; his hair frizzy from the sweat and his cheeks flushed from the brisk night air. You were sure your cheeks were just as frozen over and yet you didn’t seem to mind, not when you had just been dancing with the most handsome man you had the pleasure of meeting in… in god knows how long.

“Well, I’ll grab us a pot of Reuben’s special blend. Should sober us up and keep us warm.” You suggest, opting to divert your gaze back to the menu before you. This elicits a small hum of approval from the man, a fraction of a nod being earned in addition to the small sound, in case you hadn’t heard it over the clattering of plates and various cutlery. The timbre of his voice was enough to warm your heart.

“What are you thinking about eating, sweetheart?” Eddie then glances your way, smiling crookedly, eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lighting. “I was thinking of grabbing the beech-nut bacon and scrambled eggs.” He voices coolly, as if it was his usual. It came second hand to him, he knew what he wanted immediately, and it made you wonder if he was so certain of his decision making in other aspects of life, in other contexts…

“I was thinking about those french pancakes. They look pretty good, I have to say.” You giggled out. Normally you’d opt for something savoury after a night of drinking but tonight you were in the mood to break some rules. After all, rules were meant to be broken, right? The desire for the pancakes just about dies after the words flow out of your mouth because no sooner than you have finished your sentence, your eyes land on the cherry cheesecake. “On second thought, what do you say to splitting a slice of cheesecake?” You ask, eyes daring to meet his. He snorts out a little laugh before shaking his head. You weren’t impossible, but you were close, and you’d be the death of him without even attempting homicide.

“Cheesecake for breakfast?” He chuckles out, a teasing lilt to his tone of voice. It was playful if anything, and you knew it.

“You’re not the only one who likes to break the rules, Munson.” You tease right back, earning a little shake of the head. What you hadn’t realised is that you’d set him right up for his next line.

“Mmm but any more sugar and I might overdose.” He shoots you a wink, his dashing smile stretching across his features causing his right eye to crinkle just a touch more than his left,and dear god now that you’ve noticed this little detail, you need to uncover more. You wanted to be able to read Eddie like a book, to know what constellations his moles map out on his pale skin. At his wink, there’s a heat that finds itself creeping up your neck only to find home on the apples of your cheeks.

“Okay, okay, french pancakes, and scrambled eggs.” You decide just as the waitress comes to ask for your orders. As you both give her the small list of items you’d like, you steal glances at one another, as if for confirmation that those were the correct choices. She tutts happily, announcing she’ll be back with a pot of coffee but that the wait would be a short while for the food, which frankly neither you nor Eddie minded. If anything, a little wait could stall you both, give you enough time to open up and to explore each other as people, get to know each other even if it were on the surface level and nothing more. As ridiculous as you’d always believed such trivial things to be, you found yourself caring about Eddie Munson’s favourite colour or even the way he took his coffee, you found yourself caring to find out whether he put his left or his right sock on first and if he had a particular brand he bought over others.

The kind waitress comes back a few minutes later, interrupting your discussion about the evening you’d both shared, a big coffee pot in one hand,and two white mugs in another. She carefully placed them on the table, a certain grace to her movements,though you suppose that comes with the profession, before she informed you it would be just a bit longer for the food. With a dazzling smile she was on her way to the next table over. You thanked heras she left before reaching for the hotpot of Reuben’s Special coffee. As your hand made contact with the handle you felt a warmth envelop your fingers.

“Sorry, I- I wanted to get that for you.” A heat crept up Eddie’s neck as he slowly pulled his hand away,ghosting it over your fingers just a little longer, letting the warmth linger a fraction of a second longer than would be seen as appropriate.

“No, no, don’t be sorry, Eds.” You coo out, a shyness taking over your person all of a sudden. “Really, it’s fine.” He allows you to pour his coffee first before you decide to serve yourself some. As you put the pot down, you reach for your mug, wrapping both hands around it in order to warm you up just a pinch quicker. The wind that had whipped your hair around managed to seep into your bones just enough to leave a lingering chill but it wasn’t anything that a cup of joe couldn’t solve. “I actually, I wanted to thank you.” You started before drifting your eyes away from him.

“What ever for, sweetheart?” He mused, mirroring the way you held your mug, propping his elbows on the table and leaning in closer to you. It wouldn’t do anything in way of him hearing you, as much as you both told yourselves that that was it, no, Eddie just wanted to get closer and if you were being completely honest, as did you.

“For earlier. It’s-it wasn’t easy growing up.” You sigh out, hesitating to continue your train of thoughts, yet it was too late to go back now. You had started something that you wouldn’t be able to backtrack on and so within the small window of time that your sentence took up you began fiddling with your hands.

“S’okay, s’not your fault, you know?” Eddie softly responds, his worn musician’s hand instinctively reaching for yours only to stop himself and allow it to drop onto the hard plastified surface of the diner table. You had to admit that you found your heart sinking at how soon he dropped his hand, stopping it short of yours. You so desperately hoped he would change his mind and reach over to wrap his hand securely around yours, hell, you’d even abandon the heat radiating from your mug if it would guarantee being replaced by the much more comforting heat of Eddie’s hands. Yet his even in the absence of his touch, his words still had a profound effect on you. Your heart sped and hammered into your chest as your breath hitched. His understanding would be the death of you, and if death meant finding yourself in front of Eddie, would it be so bad?

“No, no, it’s not, and I know that deep down, but I can’t help but feel like I could have a better control over everything. I feel like I could have had a better handle on the situation.” You suspire, not quite berating yourself over your panic attack but something akin to it. Eddie doesn’t say anything, instead he listens, honey brown eyes trying to meet yours and for a split second you allow it. The sincerity in the emotion written behind his eyes is unmatched, it urged you to keep going, eager to listen to every last word you had to say. There was a twinkle of something there that conveyed an understanding, one that Eddie maybe wasn’t ready to share just yet.

“My mum, she, god, she was a force to be reckoned with when I was young. She was this strong woman who I looked up to and whom I loved dearly. She would take me to the theater and sometimes even the opera house when we had the money — usually that was around Christmas. The opera for us was a whole family affair, father, cousins, aunts, uncles, and all the likes. Father would treat everyone to it and well, it’s what started my love for dancing. Mother encouraged me for a while and she even started me in these children’s ballet classes.” You smiled fondly at the memory, peering into your coffee cup after finally managing to tear your eyes from Eddie’s own. His eyes were pools you could drown in, sinking deep, deep, deep, never hitting the bottom. “You know, she was quite proud of that when I was young. Said it gave me something to do and that it was quite dignified if I were to ask anybody around.

“Somewhere after my sixteenth birthday she became quite wicked,” You recalled the venom she spat at you through gritted teeth and boozy breath, “especially since I didn’t seem to want to give up my practice. It- It gave me freedom, and I think at some point I couldn’t separate it from my person. Dancing became a core part of who I am and how I express myself, a part of how I manage my emotions.” Suddenly Eddie recalled the shocking burlesque performance you put on for your first performance together, different than what you had both practiced yet more passionate, filled with a certain fire that he had only seen again this past evening— yet this evening the fire didn’t flicker and burn him, no, this night it danced in tandem with his newly lit flame. It suddenly made sense to him and he saw you in a clearer light. “My mum eventually thought that I should settle down. I was eighteen when she tried to convince me to take a lover and settle down, play happy little housewife,” you said the last word with air quotes, “but I didn’t want to take any happy pills to be able to stand my life… I’ve seen her, she wasn’t ever happy.” Your grip on your coffee mug tightens slightly, your shoulders becoming stiff.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs gently, a comforting tone laced into his voice and a hesitation present - a hesitation given away by the subtle twitch of his fingers begging to reach out and touch you. “You shouldn’t be forced into marrying anyone. That should be your choice.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like I was really going steady with anyone, or really planning on finding someone to go steady with. I was a little too preoccupied with distracting myself from how nasty she was… I was,” your words caught in your throat, forming a lump that was becoming far too hard to swallow, “I was told I was spreading my legs for strangers.” You admit unfeelingly, voice devoid of all emotion. You had to distance yourself from it altogether in fear of letting any tears or ugly emotions loose. It was this moment that you chose to take a sip of coffee, allowing the bitter liquid to tether you to this very moment instead of to the past. You didn’t want to remember the past and waste your time in front of Eddie, not when time with him was so limited and such a rare commodity.

The waitress came back carrying your late night indulgences and placed them in front of the two of you, cheerily telling you both to enjoy before sending Eddie a little wink that caused an ugly emotion to boil in your blood. It coursed through your veins and lit your body on fire - a white heat that was so hot that it became unbearable and you just prayed that Eddie couldn’t see it. You thanked her bitterly, though hoping that your true emotions wouldn’t seep through. She seemed not to notice, and if she did, she paid no mind. Little did you know that the frizzy haired man hadn’t even noticed the wink, his eyes never having left your figure since you began telling your tale. He felt for you, your backstory incredibly similar to his own, and he’d be damned if you weren’t one of the first people he opened up to about it.

“I hope you don’t feel like that when you dance at the club.” Eddie noted gently, picking up his fork and cutting into his eggs. “I- I- may I permit myself, and pardon me if it’s inappropriate, but may I permit myself to say that you are absolutely breathtaking when you take to the stage.” A red tint blossomed across the apples of the musicians cheeks, as if shy, embarrassed even, of his admission.

“Eds, you don’t ever need to apologize for such kind words.” Your face heated gently, forcing you to engage in a staring contest with one of the many coffee rings on the table. “I- anyway, father was actually really supportive. I’m his only child and he’s- while he’s really protective, he wanted to see me happy, you know?” You shrugged, a small smile dancing across your lips, soft, remembering. “Eventually he suggested I dance at the club because I was so dedicated to it and well, it would be safer than others. I get it, I do. I wish sometimes that he would let up a little but I know it’s coming from a place of love.” A small shrug finds itself in your body language. “I don’t know too much about father, but from what I’ve overheard, I think- I think he’s protective because I’m the only child he can have, and even then I was a miracle.” Eddie’s features softened and in that moment he understood a wider scope of what was actually going on behind the scenes, why your father was such a hardass, and why he was so protective of you — his only child, and likely the only one he’d ver have.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He breathed out, his doe eyes softening as he looks over your features, the frown lines settling into his soft features, eyebrows furrowing gently.

“No, no,” you wave off, lifting your mug to your lips once again, taking a long sip before opting to cut into your crêpe, “I’m over it, mostly anyway.” You wave off before taking in a mouthful of the sugary and glutinous dessert. “What about you?” You opt to pry into Eddie’s life, desperate to change the subject, shift the focus from you and to maybe learn a little something about the musician before you… for professional reasons only.

“There isn’t much to tell, darling.” He sighed as if trying to gear himself up to confess his deepest sins. You were the church confessional and he was the poor transgressor ready to divulge his deepest wrongdoings and beg for forgiveness still, you encouraged him with a small nod and a ghost of a smile that painted itself onto your features. The sweet look that adorned your features only pushed his bravery to the very edge, begging him to take a sip of the bitter liquid before him before he jumped into it, his thoughts running so quickly they might as well have been a film reel playing out a scene in front of him. “Look, I did not have an easy childhood. I was seen as a neerdowell by classmates and their parents alike - I was a leper, nobody would come near me and that’s when I picked up playing the guitar. I’d learn to play radio hits by ear and eventually that evolved into teaching myself more complex pieces. Eventually my parents caught wind that I was playing what they called the devil’s music.” He lets out a sordid chuckle, a little dark in nature. It told you that it wasn’t something Eddie had managed to fully get over.

“Well, I’ll tell you there’s definitely a devilish charm to it.” There’s a devilish charm to you. You try to ease the tension, a smile threatening to tug at your lips but instead it ghosts over them shyly, hesitant to make itself known in case it wasn’t a welcome reaction. Your small tease taunted Eddie in ways you couldn’t have known — the man looked down into his coffee mug, hair falling into his face, a curtain to hide the dusty rose colour that coated his cheeks while he took your little quip as flirting. Little did he know that that was exactly how you had meant it. He shook his head at you, acknowledging that he appreciated the little joke you had made before clearing his throat and continuing on.

“I don’t think my parents found it as charming as you do, darling.” He dared meet your eyes, his whiskey gaze piercing yours. At his unabashed boldness your breath caught in your throat, the light flirtation dying out only to be replaced by the blossoms of desire. “They had initially forbidden me from playing it but when I didn’t let up, spirit of teenage rebellion and all that, they kicked me out. I went to live with my Uncle Wayne after that.” He took a beat to let you process what he was saying, your eyes scanning his face for any ounce of malice or discomfort but. You found none. “Wayne might have danced with the devil a little himself.” Eddie broke out in a wolfish grin and god did it send a shiver down your spine. His smile was stunning, a real megawatt smile that you thought would be perfect for Hollywood, and yet he was right here with you.

“I’m willing to bet he didn’t discourage you.” You hummed out before tearing your eyes away from the musician and back to your plate, carefully cutting another piece of your breakfast. While you spoke Eddie did the same, and through a quick mouthful chased down with some bitter coffee he answered earnestly.

“No, god no, he indulged in jazz as much as I did and he encouraged me to play music of whatever sort I wanted. He even encouraged me to pick up multiple instruments. I know you haven’t really seen it quite yet but I primarily play guitar. You think I’m good with my hands on the keys, just wait ‘til you see my fingers moving across those strings.” He sent you a wink which had your face heating. “Anyway, as soon asI was old enough to play clubs, I would. I applied to s’fuckin many of em and would sing, play piano or guitar, anything that was thrown my way, I’d try.” He shrugged, cutting into his meal. Little did you know that his singing voice was beautiful and melded perfectly with his guitar playing. His voice was gruff - it was something you’d discover someday soon, and it had women swooning over the young beatnik. It wasn’t something he expected and yet it didn’t affect him as much as one would have thought.

“Okay mister big shot,” you teased, “if you learned so much on your own, where did you learn to dance like you did tonight?” You propped your elbows up on the table and leaned in, a mischievous smile adorning your features, a glint in your eyes. In all truth, you wanted to know Eddie inside and out. Your heart ached for him as he told his story, similar to yours in ways that you wouldn’t have imagined. You wanted to reach across the way and hug him, you wanted to hold him tight and tell him you were proud of him and how far he has come, that you were grateful for him already. You wished desperately to be able to show him a small ounce of affection but you sat frozen.

“I- uh- s’no big deal, really.” He mumbled, a little embarrassed to admit the following. “I learned at these clubs. If I wasn’t playing music I had some dancers and other folks teach me.” Your heart skipped a beat before falling into your guts, your stomach growing queasy with the turbulence. “I just wanted to hone my craft,” the man rushed out after sensing your discomfort. Why he felt the need to clarify it was unclear, why he wanted to spare your feelings also wasn’t exactly clear but here he was trying to make sure you knew he wasn’t looking at other people in the same manner he looked at you, “it wasn’t about indulgence or being close to these people, I swear. It was about being able to move up in the industry and make it to 52nd.” He assured you. The tornado of emotions flooding your body settled and your heart slowly crawled its way back into your chest. “Honestly, it was also about affording my uncle his new place.” He opted to hide behind his hair, dropping his utensils and bringing his mug up to his face in order to obscure his features even more. At this your heart warmed.

“Oh, Eddie.” You cooed out, his name on your tongue sending a wave of warmth through the man. There was something about it that he adored. Maybe it was how soft the ‘e’s’ were, maybe it was just your honey voice dripping with amber sweetness, but something tugged at his heart. While a forbidden desire was always present when it came to you, this was something else. There was nothing exciting about the way you said his name, nothing forbidden, and yet it elicited a certain reaction in him that he wasn’t used to.

“‘S the least I can do for Wayne, you know? He gave me everything, and he deserves a good and comfortable life.” He took a long sip of his coffee before putting the mug down. “Besides, I have him to thank for meeting you.” He beamed, flirtation creeping into his voice, his lopsided smile allowing his dimples to become pronounced. God did you love his dimples.

“You seem really fond of your uncle.” You softly let out, mirroring his gentle smile, stars hung in your eyes for the way he spoke of his true family. “Do you still get to see him often?” You dare pry a little further.

“Yeah, yeah I do. I visit him every second weekend of the month actually. He lives in Brooklyn now. He wanted something a little quieter and didn’t want me to break the bank buying him a place.” He shrugs. “He actually put in a good word for me for uh… the club.” He admits to you. “Phoned your dad up and practically begged him to give me a shot, and for that I’m grateful.The old man didn’t want to tell me about it but I pried it out of him. I really owe everything to him.” Your heart ached for Eddie and yet it soared all the same. His admiration for his father figure had you yearning for that same admiration from him or rather the passion and love he spoke with. It was enough to prick tears into your eyes that you quickly blinked away.

“Oh bullshit there isn’t much to tell.” You chuckle from behind your coffee mug, a smile cracking across your features as delicately as the cracks in a porcelain doll and Eddie swears that your laugh is his favourite sound, and your smile is his favourite thing. Likewise, the little smile that tugs at Eddie’s plush lips ignites a fire in your heart that you didn’t even realise you- no, he’d been kindling. That smile that he offered you ripped open the floodgates to new emotions that he was slowly chipping his way to, and suddenly it dawned on you that maybe, just maybe the turbulent changes in emotions, all ranging from adoration to misplaced jealousy could be the lead up into something more than carnal desire for the man.

“You got me there, sweetheart.” There it is, that pet name that he had for you. You swore that little night blooming flowers grew around your heart, the stems encircling it and squeezing as they grew. “I guess there is a lot to tell, I just never thought of it as important enough to share.” He shrugged before reaching for his coffee. It was warm enough to go down smoothly but not hot enough to burn — enough to cover the growing warmth in his cheeks that you caused him. There was a pause before he took his next sip, eyes flicking to you, “Not until now anyway.” And with that he swallowed down another mouthful of coffee, letting it overwhelm his taste buds, drowning out the overwhelming thoughts that threatened to swirl at his admission.

A you’re full of shit is on the tip of your tongue but with the sincerity that spilled from his voice, and the gentle look he had given you, the words died in your mouth. “You mean that?” You asked, a small tremble in your voice. Being privy to this man’s inner most thoughts had you reeling with a certain anxiety that you couldn’t completely pinpoint. It dawned on you then that it mattered what he thought of you, what a man thought of you was hardly ever of your concern and often you dismissed it, it didn’t matter, not until now. If you were being honest, that scared you. If it were true that Eddie was cultivating a garden around your heart, threatening to take care of it through gentle words, ernest secrets, and stolen evenings, you were done for. There is not much one can do when a person so choses to invest time and love into another.

“Every word, sweetheart.” He let himself breathe, a pit settling into his heart, gentle, subtle, but ever present. He couldn’t tell exactly what the sensation was, but he knew that it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was something sacred between the two of you, a secret kept between two people, teetering on forbidden sin.

“You know, I never cared for a man’s opinion of me,” you looked down to your plate as you gently placed the mug on the table, clasping it with both hands as if for support, and god knows you needed it, “and yet I find myself caring for yours. It scares me.” You admit, hands starting to tremble from nerves. No amount of white hot heat of spotlights elicited such a reaction from you, no amount of eyes made your breath catch and your body tremble, and yet one look from the curly haired man could have your knees buckling. It was with great surprise that you weren’t overcome with anxiety after your confession and yet you still refused to meet his gaze.

“You have nothing to be scared about.” His voice flows smooth, words soft and tender, a certain truth spilling over into them without hesitation. Internally, Eddie fought with himself, willing himself to sit still, and yet he wanted so desperately to be able to see your eyes in this moment. In a soft whisper, a ghost of a breath you heard a “forgive me darling.” Before his mug clattered gently against the surface of the table, a few drops of the cacao coloured liquid splashing onto the linoleum surface of the table in his haste and his calloused fingers made their way to your chin delicately - the complete opposite of how he had handled his coffee cup. Your eyes flick up to meet his, the honey warm tones sparkling under the warm lights of the diner. “You’re allowed to care about my opinion of you as I care about your opinion of me. It’s… sweetheart, no matter how hard I try to act cold in favour of your father, I couldn’t do that to you. I care too deeply about what you think of me, god only knows why, but I need you to know that the feeling is mutual.” He breathes, allowing his hand to finally drop to the table, leaving it palm up as a sort of offering if you’re so willing to take it.

“What’s so special about me?” You egg him on, a certain amusement sprinkling itself into your voice as you try to diffuse the tension. To say you hadn’t recited a silent prayer that the gap between the two of you would close would be a blatant lie. It was a desire that flicked across your mind before you opted to push it down.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He counters, mirroring the intonation in your voice.

“Touché.” Your eyes flick to his hand before you opt to bring your coffee to your red lips, allowing the liquid to spill down your throat with a bite. You were still afraid to give Eddie too much of yourself and especially so soon but to say his touch wasn’t welcome and that it didn’t fill you with a foreign feeling would be a blatant lie so as you replaced the mug onto the flat surface and pulled your hand from the warm porcelain, you caved in and peeled your fingers one by one away from the handle and slowly crawled them over to Eddie’s fingers, daring to allow yourself the luxury of his touch. His breath caught in his throat, heart speeding faster than greasers who burn rubber for fun on Saturday nights, not having expected you to take him up on such an offer, much less an unspoken one.

“Hey, what say you to getting out of here and watching the sun rise over Queensboro bridge?” He pushes his luck this time, hoping for you to go along with his like-criminal plan. The answer is on the tip of your tongue and yet it fizzles out almost as soon as the excitement had you caught up with the offer.

“I can’t.” You let out, dejected, hoping he wouldn't take it badly but the gentle tug of his hand pulling back tells you otherwise. In a split second you give his fingers a squeeze, a plea to stay as you were for just a second longer, to pretend you two weren’t what you were or who you were for just a fleeting moment and he complies, surprised by your sudden move. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I don’t want to push my luck with my father. I’ve probably already disappeared for too long.” With that, his rejection melts from his face, replaced with a look of slight concern, and yet he can’t bring himself to wallow in self pity for long because your warm hand is still in his, boldly squeezing it in fear that he’d pull back, and if he were being frank, it’s the last thing he wants to do right now. He wants to keep this moment alive for much longer than he is realistically able to and so it’s with great reluctance that he calls for the bills, making sure that the cost of the coffee pot would be split down the both of them. He made sure that he took on a penny more than you did, taking on thirteen cents while you covered twelve. All in all, both bills were very reasonable and did not leave a hole in your pockets.

Once all was paid, Eddie tugged his coat on only after he held yours out for you, and he promised to walk you back to your father’s club, not willing to leave you alone for a second. The morning air is chilly, nipping at your cheeks as you walk towards the aforementioned establishment. It was still dark and the streetlights and neon signs illuminated your way, creating a certain slice of peace that was hard to come by for folks such as yourselves. You both people watched as you spoke to each other in hushed voices, and to any onlooker, you both appeared as a couple that was so painfully in love with each other that it made those around you sick, and yet you were neither in love, nor a couple, or at least that’s what you would tell yourselves for the time being. The world, however, had other plans in the works.

Too soon was your arrival at the club, and being the gentleman he is, the beatnik with dreamy eyes walks you all the way back to your dressing room door, wishing you a goodnight and letting his eyes flick to your lips momentarily. You barely have time to register the movement as you too are busy wondering whether he might offer you a small parting gift but it never comes.Instead it’s all pining and longing stares while his fingers ghost across the backs of yours. Part of your heart sinks, but what would it even be? What did you even want? A hug? A kiss? No, no, you never looked at your father’s club musicians that way. Besides, what good would it do hoping for something of the sort when you’d only known him a short while, right? No matter how magical the night was, it was just that, the magic of a scandalous evening with daddy’s best musician.

“Thank you, Eds, it was a really lovely evening.” You chose to admit to him, tilting your head down and tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. Your eyes flick up at Eddie through your thick lashes, unbeknownst to what exactly it was doing to him but if it was anything like what his next move would do to you, so lord help him. In a smooth move the suave musician leans in, allowing his plush lips to brush your ear before allowing himself the luxury to whisper a small sugary sweet parting.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” The murmur of the two simple words against your ear send an electric shock down your spine, your body yearning for him to invade your space like that once again but almost as soon as he had overstepped the line that wasn’t to be crossed, he retreated back to his own territory, a sort of no man’s land of space being left between you. A warm drunken smile dances across his lips before he pulls away, turning around ready to head down the hallway.

“Goodnight, Eds.” You call sweetly behind him, mirroring his movement before pushing your dressing room door open. As you close the door behind you, you rest your back against it, completely in disbelief over the evening itself and just how perfect it was, how seamlessly it blended into the morning. Truthfully, you couldn’t wait to go to bed, and surely you’d be in late tomorrow, but that was tradition after all. You quietly padded over to your wardrobe, stripping away your clothing and changing into your day dress, spraying two puffs of perfume and gathering your things before moving to take off your makeup. Just as you’re doing so, your dressing room door opens in a panic, your father in front of you, face riddled with anxiety until his eyes land on you - relief flooding his features.

“Where were you all night?” There’s a roar threatening to come out behind his words but he makes a gallant attempt to even his tone of voice, a quiver finding itself threaded through every word. He was worried about you, especially after the happenings earlier in the evening. All he cared about was your protection, your well being, and when he couldn’t find you, he practically tore the club apart hoping to locate you.

“I was just on the roof smoking. I needed a breather.” The irony of your statement wasn’t lost on either of you but the lie was. It slipped out almost effortlessly and your father was none the wiser. You wanted to pay attention, to console him, but part of you couldn’t bring yourself to give half an ounce of care, not when he was so overbearing that he needed to know your every move, and so you continued taking your makeup off.

“And you just decided to pull the ole Irish goodbye on your own father and worry him half to death?” He pressed further, malice starting to seep in through the cracks. His brow furrowed at how little you seemed to be affected, pleading for a reaction from you, a plea you did not comply with.

“Father, please,” You beg, voice devoid of emotion, flat, unfeeling, “I just needed to get away, to clear my head. I needed a moment to think. I know you want to protect me but you can’t keep me under lock and key.” You allow the cotton balls you were using to fall to fall to the surface of your vanity, a knot in your stomach over the protectiveness your father exerted over you. You understood his intentions but while he viewed his protectiveness as a freedom, it started to wear on you more and more. A bigger enclosure was an enclosure nonetheless. You felt like a bird that got moved into a bigger cage — one big enough to accommodate for its wingspan but not enough to allow it to fly. It was suffocating.

“While you’re working at my club I can damn well try to keep you safe.” He roared out, immediate regret flooding him almost as quickly as the regulars flooded their stomachs full of alcohol, though their regret came the morning after.

“Father, that’s enough.” You suddenly snapped, you never spoke harshly to him, always the grateful one for everything he has done for you, but as soon as he introduced a certain neerdowell to the club your eyes were opened to the constraints you were put under. “I do not live with you anymore and I certainly don’t live under a roof you’ve given me. I’m an adult, and as much as I love you, and I do, I don’t need you over my shoulder or breathing down my neck. I needed room to breathe,” and he left the cage door open for a split second, “so I went and got air on the roof. Please just… Give me a little freedom of my own.” Frustrated, that was the only way to describe how you were feeling about this conversation. After the wild night of dancing and temptation that you’ve had, you didn’t want it ruined.

“But,” your father starts, but you cut him off quicker than he could say lickitysplit.

“Father, please. It’s enough that you see the worst in Mr. Munson, who has been nothing but a gentleman by the way, but I am capable of holding my own and you know I’ve gone out by myself many a time, so please just trust me a little.” Part of you hopes that this might sway him to let up on this whole ban on dating the musicians,or rather the club musicians dating you, but the next thing from his mouth has your heart sinking into the deepest pit in your stomach.

“Fine, but if any of them musicians make any moves just know they’ll be paying with their hands.” Your father threatened before sighing and rubbing over his face. “I just want to protect you.” A tick of irritation shot through your body, who was he to tell you who could and could not be in your presence, much less to threaten bodily harm to them. To you, violence was rarely the solution, and frankly you couldn’t believe that your father would stoop so low or even go so far as to dare attempt such a thing.

“Father.” You warn. “I know you want what’s best but… what if one day,” you try, you do, but he cuts you off almost immediately.

“There will not be one day with a musician, you hear? I know what indulgences they play with. I won’t set you up like your mother desperately wants to, but for your best interest, musicians are forbidden, you hear?” You don’t answer him, in fact you turn and swallow hard, desperately willing tears not to slip down your face. You never got into arguments with your father and never over men. You had but an inkling of an idea over why this would upset you but part of you couldn’t bring yourself to understand, it had never been a problem, not until a certain curly haired man entered your life. And that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it, that one musician. You were certain that even if it weren’t a title he held, the effect would nonetheless be the same. After all, it was your very first meeting with him, the moment your eyes fell upon him, that you were completely and utterly done in. You swallowed hard before opting to wet another cotton ball, this time with a toner that might take off the remainder of the grime before you could wash your face propper, only using this move to hide the tears that welled over. Your fathers words shouldn’t have made a difference, Eddie had only entered your professional life a day or so ago, so why was this affecting you so much? “I love you, I just want what’s best for you.” Your father chokes out through your deliberate ignorance.

“I’m going to head home.” The cold reply shocks your father, the frosty reply seeping into his bones and freezing him to his core. There was hardly ever a moment you spoke to him in such a detached and unfeeling manner, and when you did it was often for good reason, so what could it have been this time? The ugly emptiness wormed its way into your soul, a darkness nestling cobwebs into the deepest crevices of your heart. With haste you found yourself storming through your dressing room, collecting your belongings, and shoving past your father.

“You know I,” he attempts to patch up the rift he had created but without any avail, not realising that with every word he tore a fabric into the bond that you both shared.

“Goodnight, father.” You respond curtly before walking out and shutting the door behind you, heels clicking down the hall as you make your way out the club door. Luckily you had nothing to practice that you haven’t already and so your tradition of coming in later wouldn’t be impeded, and besides if he was going to pester you about the events that transpired then you’d rather not be around him. You are an adult, you should be able to manage your own relationships without the interference of your family or an overprotective father.

Early mornings were strange for performers and musicians alike,the hustle and bustle of the city waking up while the entertainers were just tripping back into their apartments to get some shut eye, and you were no exception. You burst through your door around five in the morning, prepared to make yourself another coffee and wash your face while you waited for it to brew. Your checklist was simple: get ready for bed, slip on a nightgown, wash your face, and have your coffee before brushing your teeth and tucking yourself into bed for the night… Technically morning. And so while your coffee brewed, you shut your curtains and placed the book you were reading in bed last night back onto your nightstand, pulling the beaded metal string to turn on your table lamp. A warm glow was cast across the room as you paced around searching for your little black number. It was satin with lace adorning the decolletage, and it made you feel absolutely stunning even when in between the waking world and Mr.. Sandman’s realm.

You did manage to pour yourself a small amount of coffee, sipping it before allowing yourself to abandon it on your kitchen counter, saving it for a few hours from now. Worst case you’d just reheat it. You then brushed your teeth before padding your way across your hardwood floors and crawling into bed, turning off your little Victorian style lamp. You allowed your thoughts to lull you into a calm and pleasant sleep, thinking of the “not date”, allowing a smile to grace your features. Your slumber is pleasant, undisturbed, and for once you sleep solidly through the morning and through to about two in the afternoon, at which point you roused with a small yawn and a hunger burning a hole through your stomach.

The rest of the week is filled with learning a new number, a jaunty little tune that drove Eddie mad. He had to sit and watch you dance with someone else, some relatively known fellow whose name escaped him and frankly it escaped you as well. You weren’t performing a little burlesque strip tease this week, no, it was a swing number that had you fuming. Whether this was your father’s idea of punishment or whether it was for the good of the club to bring in someone relatively famous you didn’t know but your heart wasn’t in it like it should have been. Dancing with this newcomer was wildly different than dancing with Eddie. While Eddie was a breath of fresh air, this man was a suffocating smog, making it hard to breathe. It seemed that every move needed to be perfectly calculated with him, he was stiff, something a good swing dancer shouldn’t have been. He was essentially incapable of improvisation and would chastise you for any trip ups that came from how meticulous he wanted to assure you both were. There wasn’t room for error which was starting to get on your nerves incredibly so. You wanted nothing more than to dance with Eddie at this moment, permitting yourself to steal glances his way every time your current dance partner spun you around.

On the other side of the room, however, the musician behind the swing piece was steaming from his ears, the little green monster having crawled into his heart, squeezing unbearably tight while it fed poisonous thoughts into his ear. With each word, each interaction, each fleeting touch, the musician became more and more possessive. over something, or rather someone, that wasn’t even his. He wasn’t even sure why he was overcome with such an ugly emotion but still it burned through him like a cold fire. Thankfully the practice reached its apex before coming to a rather swift conclusion, one that both you and Eddie welcomed. You curtly wished your partner a better practice next time, and told him that you’d see him tomorrow for the show before you sauntered over to the man you actually wanted to see. As you reached him, you planted your elbows firmly on the hornbeam surface of the piano.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His smile immediately melted any fears you held in your heart, and your anxieties were smoothed over, even just temporarily. “You looked like you were having a ball.” He notes, a sliver of sadness tinged his tone of voice, immediately giving his true emotions away, not that you minded. You understood in fact, but instead of jealousy leading your actions, it was a desire.

“Oh yeah, a real dreamboat that one.” You chuckled out with a delicate roll of your eyes, extending one arm out and over to his side, silently hoping he might be so daring as to take your hand even if only for a second. “Honestly, he bashed my ears* a little much, a real wet rag* for the amount he had to say and improvise.” You openly admit through a small snort, one that causes Eddie’s lips to tug up in a quick motion, tension breaking away completely, easing any worries he might have had about your new dance partner. “Say daddy-o,” you tease, eyes flicking up at him through your lashes, “you wouldn’t happen to be free tonight, would ya?” You purred out, squishing your elbows against your chest in a tantalizing manner.

“Mmm, depends on who’s asking.” A grin splits across his handsome face, dimples appearing on his cheeks, gracing his features gently, his toothy smile making your heart swell. The flirtation had you on your toes, it was thrilling knowing that this little bit of banter that you allowed yourselves was forbidden, and that’s the thing about all things forbidden, they were much much more thrilling.

“Oh, just a little bird.” You wink his way, flashing him a gentle smile in return. You couldn’t help but act in a more daring way around the beatnik, there was something about being around the bad boy that gave you a burst of newfound confidence, one that wasn’t solely reserved for the stage. That was the thing, the stage was yours and you commanded it, and the music moved you, but when it came to speaking to people it was different. You had so little experience being suave around others that it wasn’t second nature, if you weren’t actively trying to seduce, you didn’t know how to act, subtlety wasn’t your forte, nor was it particularly desired in your field. You always held sway over crowds, over men, forwardness was rewarded, and some even begged for it.

“Oh well in that case I’m convinced, sweetheart. What do you have in mind?” He entertains, his eyes trailing down your figure before coming back up to meet your own. It was a risky move but it was a risk he was willing to take. Your soft smile split into a wicked grin, unable to contain yourself any longer.

“I was thinking maybe we can have a quiet evening, a little rehearsal, my place? After all, you’re the best dance partner.” You admit with a flush of heat to your cheeks. “If you need to make an excuse, I trust you to come up with one.” Eddie couldn’t pinpoint why, but something about voicing that you trusted him after only a week had his heart soaring like a bird free to fly south for the cold winter. It cracked the wall that he had attempted to build up even further than you had cracked it the first few days. He just couldn’t help himself around you, everything sang to him as if you were a song written for only his ears. You take a minute to bite your lip before you turn around, hair tossing over your shoulder with the speed at which you spun on your heel, and sauntering off to your dressing room to pick up your things when you run into your father.

“What are you doing?” He hissed out at you, not meaning to sound so harsh as his hand came out to grab your arm but he stopped himself in his tracks, knowing it was too harsh of a gesture. “What were you talking to Mr. Munson about?” He pries, his tone gentler this time around.

“The next number. This one is too jaunty - it’s good for an old barrelhouse but not for this club. Besides, that man you have me dancing with is a wet rag. Famous or not, he’s only good at one thing and that’s moving his feet.” You scoff out, pushing past your father to gather your belongings. What you don’t see in doing so is the sad expression that adorns his features. He messed up, that much he knows,, yet your father was much too stubborn to admit it, almost like an ox in that sense, yet all he wanted was to keep you safe. Why wasn’t that something that you wanted to see? With a disheartened sigh he brings his hands across his face, rubbing it in frustration and hoping that it might wake him up a little bit after his nearly sleepless night. He glances between you and his newest musician before shaking his head and walking away.

On your way out of the club you managed to catch Eddie, catching his arm and begging him to wait before he heads out too. You pull out your fountain pen and a scrap paper from your bag and scribble loopy numbers out for him, your penmanship not being the most immaculate at this moment, and how could it be when you were using your hand as a notepad. You jot down your address for him, telling him to show up at eight on the dot to which he tells you that he wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Your evening is filled with running menial errands to ensure your soirée is as near perfect as it can be. Buying a new vintage, a few candles, and the last few ingredients you needed for your stuffed mushrooms and cucumber canapés. Once you get home, you don’t hesitate to put on one of your favourite records, Quando Ella Sai/Meia Luz by Joao Gilberto. It softly flowed through the air and guided your hips in slow and steady movements, swaying from side to side as you pulled out your wine glasses and lit candles, bringing out an older vintage that you had laying in your wine rack. A special wine for a special occasion. You take the chance to lay your coffee table books out more neatly, stacking them perfectly one on top of the other, the largest finding itself at the bottom. You dust off your bookshelves and rearrange your plants into a more pleasing manner before moving back to your fragrant kitchen, turning the oven off and leaving your stuffed mushrooms to keep warm until your guests arrival.

A sharp knock knocks you from your anxious concentration and rapidly guides you to the front door, causing you to rip it open in record speed. You’re met with Eddie’s war features and you can’t help but drink him in, his attire much different from his white button up and black slack. His toned chest is covered in a tight black t-shirt, over it a well fitted leather jacket, and a nice pair of cuffed black jeans hugged his hips just right. Your mouth salivated at the sight of him, never having seen him dressed so casually, and you couldn’t help but admit that you adored this look on him. If you’d run into him on the street, you’d never have been able to tell that he played jazz for a living.

“O-oh.” You let out inadvertently. “H-hello, handsome.” Your voice comes out much more hoarse than you’d meant it to, all other greetings dying on your tongue as soon as you’d laid your eyes on him.

“Well hello there, bunny.” He winked, a small chuckle escaping past his lips and tumbling into the open air, whiskey eyes sparkling in the candlelight. Everything about him screamed sex appeal and you could barely contain yourself, but you had to. The chances of him even sharing the same inkling of a feeling for you that you held for him were slim to none, at least in your eyes, but little did you know that he could barely contain himself just looking at you. The outfit you were wearing hugged your waist just right, exposing enough skin to be tantalizing but not enough to give away too much, it left him curious, and yet it burned a hole through his heart as heat creeped lower. That wasn’t the only problem though, his honey eyes darkened with a desire to pull you into him, to tell you how you take his breath away and yet make it so hard to breathe without you. His eyes then focus on what’s going on behind you. “This all for me?” He asks as you allow him to step in,

“For us, yeah. I figure it would be a quieter, more private place to talk.” You close the door behind him as he takes his shoes off in consideration. You didn’t care if your neighbours thought you to be fast*, you just wanted to enjoy the company of the man before you behind closed doors, away from interruptions and prying eyes. Your counterpart hums in approval before padding over to your couch, sitting down and uncorking the wine, pouring you a glass.

“You’re bad,” He chuckles out, “but you’re right. I- I’m glad you invited me over.” He mentions as he hands you your glass, ears straining to hear the record that you were playing. His heart rate picked up as you sat next to him, fingers brushing as he handed you your glass. If it were up to him, you would never serve yourself a glass of wine ever again, he’d be the one to do it for you.

“It’s João Gilberto.” You tell him as he pours your wine. “It’s a record that came out three years ago and I’m in love with it.” You admit bashfully. “My father went on a vacation to Brazil and discovered this record, their jazz is much different from ours but I can’t complain, sometimes it can be a breath of fresh air.” You bashfully admit, looking away from Eddie. He doesn’t judge you though, he couldn’t, he loved the passion you spoke with and he found that it mirrored his own. It was rare to find someone so driven for the music itself as opposed to the dancing and fame. To some even the promiscuity was alluring, and yet you were driven by nothing but a fiery passion for your craft and that which drove it.

“It’s beautiful.” The man breathes, like you, he thinks but the words die on his tongue. Instead, he shrugs his jacket off, folding it over the back of your couch. His tattooed arms were exposed to you in full for the first time, and you found yourself pining over something you hadn’t even realised you found attractive. The dark ink that littered his skin beckoned you to discover anecdotes that tied his life together with a little red string, and yet you wouldn’t dare ask him about these until much later. The amount of tattoos he had was certainly near felonious and if you weren’t sitting, you were sure you’d be on your knees for the man, and while you might have thought that you’d be praying to a false idol before, falling to temptation, it rang even more true now.

As Eddie takes a sip of his wine, he glances over your apartment, eyes landing on your neat bookshelves, littered with books of all sorts, fiction, non fiction, fantasy, biographies, you even had a section dedicated to textbooks and frankly, your guest couldn’t believe the assortment you had. He stayed seated, however.

“Thank you, Eds. I was hoping you’d like it.” With a smooth move, you set your glass upon your wooden coffee table. “Would you like to dance?” You inquire “Not to pressure you, but it might make this special album hold an even fonder place in my heart.” You bashfully whisper the last part, as if your neighbours had an ear to the wall.

“There is nothing that would bring me more pleasure.” With a bite of his lip and his eyes welling to the brim with an unnamed emotion, he too placed his wine glass back onto your coffee table, replacing his grip on the stem with a gentle grip to your fingers, loose and inviting. He stands up, tugging you with him, guiding you over to an open space in your living room, pulling your hand to his chest, placing it directly over his rapidly beating heart. “So…” He trails off, teasing, “best dance partner?”

“Oh fuck off.” You giggle out. “Yeah, you are. I think you’re probably the best dance partner I’ve had in years.” You admit as he begins to sway gently, one of his hands trailing to your waist while the other gently envelops the hand placed over his right side. You follow his lead as he begins gently moving his feet to the music, slow quarter turn after slow quarter turn, holding your waist tight to hit body, cherishing it and this moment as if it might be the last time he gets to experience this. Slowly his head drops down next to yours, his lips next to your ear, his caramel hair tickling your face softly. There is nothing in this moment you’d rather be doing than dancing with him, breathing in the same air, breathing in his intoxicating perfume. The sweetness of it filled your lungs and the lemon notes left a fresh tang, balancing out with a woody scent that complimented him so well that it made your head spin. This is exactly where you wanted to be, to stay curled up in his arms and hidden from the rest of the world.

While your internal monologue spun, Eddie couldn’t help but feel like the devil had sunken his claws into him and pulled him from the high heavens, a fallen angel in a world of scandalous temptation, and it was working. His lips against your ear were but a slippery slope into the plushness pressing just below and trailing down your neck as he told you how right this forbidden fruit felt. Your body to his and your head to his shoulder felt right, and if his fall from grace meant having you by his side, why wouldn’t he take that chance? All warnings against this sinful slice of heaven were moot when it came to you, especially now that he had started to get to know you for who you actually are. As the song drew to an end, the mop headed man knew he had to keep this proximity, or at least he would damn well try.

“Thank you.” He murmured against your ear, squeezing you a pinch tighter than he had been mere moments earlier, a movement that allowed him to feel the shiver that ran from the top of your spine all the way down to the tip of your tailbone. The sudden sensation forced you to snuggle into him, lips falling open, a jagged breath leaving you.

“For what?” It was muffled against his t-shirt, almost inaudible, as you fisted the black fabric on his lower back for stability. It had him swallowing hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, as he thought of how he was going to respond to you. The words were lodged behind a sort of barrier, refusing to make their way to the tip of his tongue and yet he managed a choked breath against the shell of your ear.

“For giving me the time of day.” At this, the proximity had become a bit much and he pulled away but his hands stayed cemented on you, unable to pull them away as much as he tried. There was a certain pull to you that he couldn’t shake.

“Oh, uh,” you softly stammered, missing the warmth of his body against yours, “well technically I’m giving you the time of night, but I don’t see why I wouldn’t.” You recovered jokingly, hoping to smooth over any tension that had been created. A soft laugh emitted from the musician, hair shaking in time with his little chuckles. “Afterall, sin is the only note of vivid colour that persists in the modern world.” You tease. His head shoots up, eyes boring into yours before you catch the gentle tug at his lips.

“Did you just quote Oscar Wilde to me?” A mischievous twinkle finds home in his eyes. As if you couldn’t be more perfect for him, you had just given away a tangible part of your person, something that wouldn’t signify much to most but it had his heart swelling. He knew you had bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of books, but maybe he should have paid more attention to what they actually contained. You clearly weren’t just a dancer at daddy’s club, no, you were much more rounded out as a person, a depth to you that most wouldn’t even have the chance to see. Nobody would have the chance to see this intelligent and inquisitive side of you that quoted authors as a means of flirting, as a means of communicating. Not many got to see the deeply devoted bookworm in you, and the care that you put into your collection of novels and textbooks. You surrounded yourself with knowledge during your spare time and it was a rare sight, even for your family.

“I might have.” Your smile mirrored his, albeit shy, as if a trickle of embarrassment found itself in it. The fact was that you had read The Picture of Dorian Grey maybe one too many times for it to be healthy, it was one of your favourite novels. It allowed you to escape from your own reality and indulge in different lives all while living your own. While you were often trapped in a birdcage, books gave you a temporary reprieve and allowed you to spread your wings farther than you were ever allowed to.

“The Picture of Dorian Grey.” The man whispered out, breath barely reaching your face. “What other secrets do you hold?” He pried, a glimmer flashing across this expression, of what you didn’t know. That’s when you decided to tug him towards your hardwood bookshelves, covered in books from floor to ceiling, a gesture that spoke ‘be my guest’. He didn’t think he’d be so lucky as for you to show him your little private world, and yet here you were, opening up to him more than you had ever opened up to anyone since you began your career. His eyes flicked over a few of the titles you had, authors he knew and others he didn’t. A healthy dose of French literature as well such as Bonjour Tristesse, Mme Bovary, Les Misérables. It was sprinkled in amongst some Fitzgerald and Salinger, but one particular book caught his eye. This is the one moment he pulls away from you, reaching out to take a closer look at the thick novel nestled gently into your shelf but he stops himself short, fingertips ghosting against the spine of the book the same way his fingertips had been ghosting across your waist just moments prior. “May I?” And with an affirmative nod his nimble fingers grasp the book and tug gently, allowing it to dislodge from its spot. He tenderly places the book in his hands, holding it as gently as he wanted to hold you.

As he flips through the pages, he picks up on little nuances like how you don’t annotate directly inside the book, instead you have little scrap papers that you’ve scribbled over in semi attached cursive writing. Sometimes your writing was neat and legible, print writing, others it was scrawled out, unable to be read by anyone other than that person who had penned it in the first place. His heart swells at this little piece of information, noting that the book was in near perfect condition and that it was in fact a first edition. How you managed to get a first edition of The Lord of the Rings was far beyond him, it was not possible, was it?

“Is something wrong, Eds?” When he turns to you, beckoned by your angelic voice, his pupils are blown and his eyes are searching you over for something that neither of you are sure of. He closes the book delicately, wanting nothing more than to languidly kiss you in this very moment, instead he takes a step closer and bites his lip, opting to place his forehead to yours in a tender moment. “Take it,” you say, his eyes widening in shock, “the book. I can always get myself a new one but this- this looks like it means a lot to you. I- I know what my dad pays his musicians, and I know it’s not enough for luxury, so please take it, it’s yours.” It’s yours rang through his head. It’s yours like your heart was his for the taking too. He holds it tighter to his chest, closing his eyes to savour this moment with you, with his favourite fantasy book, his two favourite escapes. He asks in the intimacy of the situation, repeating the mantra that this is in fact what friends do.

“Darling,” he starts, breath ghosting your lips, tantalizing, inviting even, filling you with a desire of a person possessed. You want to close the gap, desperately so, but it’s not the moment to do so, you don’t know when it would be, if ever. Instead, the two of you opt to dance this line between friends and lovers, staying coworkers was long thrown out the window.

“Eddie,” your breath mixes with his, mingling together to create an intoxicating cloud between you both. His face pushed a hair closer to yours, noses brushing together causing your eyes to flutter shut.

“I-I don’t know if I can accept this.” The illusion shatters and at his words you jerk back, eyes opening wide, slightly glassy from the heightened emotions. “I mean, it’s just so personal, giving a book to someone I mean. That’s like giving a part of yourself over to someone and I,” his breath catches in his throat, I don’t want to take a part of you with me, I want to take all of you with me. His brain screamed at him.

“Eddie, it’s yours if you want it.” I’m yours if you want it, you promise him. “I want you to have it. Look, I’ve read this book over and over, it’s an escape into a new world, and if it helps you escape half as much as it helps me, which it looks like it does, then I want you to have it.” You admit to him openly.

“Darling, I can’t take this from you,” He boldly takes a step into your space once again, “but if you really want me to have it, I will do nothing more than borrow it from you, because what good would I be if I took something so precious from you, keeping it all to myself?” You couldn’t believe his words, offering you a considerate alternative, refusing to take without giving back. You offer him a nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. The move isn’t lost on Eddie and so while holding the book tenderly in one hand, he reaches his other to entangle his fingers with your own. “Come on, what say you to another dance?” He asks you.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Glossary:

Having a ball: to enjoy oneself greatly

Bash ears: Talk too much

Wet rag: Someone boring

Fast: someone who is sexually active/someone who quickly allowed dating relationships to become physical

Dolly: a really cute girl

a/n: thank you for bearing with me on this update, she’s long, leaves you yearning, and definitely not proofread because I have ANOTHER sinus infection. But either way, here you are.

Tag list: @ali-r3n @cryingglightningg @honey-eyed-munson @munson-blurbs

[atlasmarzz]

ugh why do i do this, its literally 2:50 am when im starting this and 3:26 am when i finish.

NSFW WARNING - read at your own risk :) thigh riding, degration, edging, orgasm denial, leon is a meanie, mirror sex?

your fiancé had a government work part to attend, of course bringing you as his plus one. leon never really got you involved with his work, it was far too dangerous. but a classy party and drinks with the industry wouldnt hurt at all.

at the moment, you were standing infront of the full length mirror in your bedroom while leon sat on the edge of your bed. you worked on clipping in some earings that matched the necklace that leoj had bougjt you a while ago. you could see him behind you, leaning over, his slicked back hair, white dress shirt, and black dress pants making him even more attractive. you were wearing a long but not tight fitted dress that contained a slit riding all the way up to mid thigh. the top with thin straps and lowcut band. you chose complimentary heels that worked with everything.

you heard a low wistle come from behind you, knowing it was leon checking you out without even having to see his eyes. you ignored it as you finished with the jewlery portion of the night. i double checked my hair and makeup before turning around to face leon.

"are you ready, lee?" of course you had to use the nickname that made him crazy after riling him up with your attire.

"actually.. no, no im not, c'mere" he said, tapping his thigh with his index finger and leaning back to look at you.

"leon, we cant, we have places to be" you tried to explain to him, looking back at the clock hanging in the wall.

"we have 30 minutes, darling, just enough time for something small, hm?" he pleads, grabbing my arm and pulling my down for a kiss

of course i kissed back, but i pulled away quickly, "babe- my makeup" i warned him, looking down at him with stern eyes. he grabbed my hips and yanked me down onto one thigh. i yelped out, grabbing onto his shoulders for stablitiy, "seriously leon-" i warned again but he didnt care. my dress rode up my thigh and dropped the remainder to the floor.

he grippied my hips harder, moving my slightly back and forth. i could feel the wetness starting to pool in my thinly laced panties that he was meant to see later. he clearly had visions of his own as i whimpered, the friction of his pants on my clothed cunt made my head fuzzy.

"what were you saying? how much youre a slut for my fucking thigh? look at you, broken down just for my thigh" he spat with a smile, holding my face with one hand to look up at him.

i contiued to move without his help, my clit throbbing from the harsh contact. i leaned my head back and opened my mouth, silently pleading for more. his hand slid off my face and up my dress, moving my panties aside to have my arousal bare and dripping on his nice pants. when i noticed, i stopped.

"leon- your pants" i whimpered, looking into his eyes with concern.

"dont worry, keep fucking going. tell me how much you love this, making such a mess of yourself and ive barely touched you." i muttered lowly in my ear, gripping my hips again to move me, "god you look so dirty in the mirror right now." he spat again, watching my hips drag against him.

"mph- please leon please im so close-" i whined, picking up my speed and feeling my release creep up.

"you can hold it. be good and hokd it for me. dont want to ruin yourself right before a party, right?" he cooed, rubbing small circles in my hips.

i cried out, tears brimming in my eyes as i tried so hard to keep my band from snapping. my movements stuttered as i tried to regain my composure. i continued for a moment before stopping again.

"did i say you could stop?" leon asked, his voice husky and sharp in my ear, gripping my sides and moving me again.

"no! please leon it hurts! please let me come ill be good!" i begged, crying into his neck as i fought against his movements.

"youll be good? well when you say it like that.." he trailed, lifting me off of his thigh. my face furrowed with confusion, "turn around, watch yourself ruin yourself on my thigh." he demanded, turning my hips.

when i settled myself again, my back flush against his chest as i stared at us in the mirror. my lipstick was smudged and mascara ran down my face, a slight glisten in the light could be seen on his pants.

"c'mon, keep going" he offered innocently, i continued moving my hips, the coil coming back faster this time as i moaned out leons name, "is bunny close?" he asked, leaning in to kiss my shoulder, trailing up to leave soft kisses on my neck and behind my ear.

i nod furiously, practically bouncing on his knee, "stop." he said, it startled me, but i stopped, being ripped away from heaven for the second time, "we can continue after the party. we'll be late" he lifted me off and readjusted my panties.

i whined out, my legs like jello as i desperately tried fixing my hair and makeup. by the time we were actually ready, the wet spot dried, leaving it darker than the rest of the pants.

[sugawhaaa]

Felix X reader

{Part. 2}

"Just friends."

Pairing::bodyguard!Felix x famous!fem!reader

Warnings::little tiny bit suggestive at the end

A/N:: sorry this took so damn long to finish I just kept writing it in little pieces 🧍

Taglist:: @binnies-minsung-fanclub @btsarmy-7s-world

You woke up the next morning and it took you a long while to remember what was going on. A man in your bed? In someone else's bed? Oh yeah…

You essentially regained conscious but laid in bed trying to fully awaken. Then you felt the warm presences behind you vanish and the sound of Felix groaning as the sheets fumbled around. You listen to the sound of his heavy footsteps heading for the bathroom. When you heard the door shut you looked at your phone, 11am and 20 million messages from your mother.

You sat up in your bed, blankets still covering you as you read your mother's messages. To sum it up she said you have free rain today. As long as Felix is by your side and you don't get lost etc. She trusts you finally, at the age of 18. You turned your phone off and set it on the nightstand and looked over at Felix's side of the bed. His pillow ruffled, phone unplugged, and the few things on his nightstand either gone or moved.

You assumed he had been awake for a while. You sighed and looked up at the ceiling. What are we going to do today? You thought to yourself when you heard the door open. Felix stepped out with his hair a mess, fluffy and chaotic. In his hand he had some cream it looked like, he probably used it on his face considering how shiny it looked.

"Oh she's awake," he smiled as he walked over to you.

"Sort of..." you groaned as you slid back down into the blankets. Felix chuckled and started trying to work out the coffee machine. Eventually he got it figured out and asked you if you'd like some. You nodded and thanked him before getting up and stretching. "I don't know if my mom told you but we can pretty much do whatever today,"

After that you and Felix had a pleasant coffee party at the window cill. You then checked a bag that your mother dropped off for you. It had a lot of food but nothing really breakfast worthy. You informed Felix of this and he told you that there's a very nice breakfast joint nearby but you'd have to take the city bus there. You agreed to eat out there and started getting dressed and dolled up.

"I've never been on a city bus without my parents before," you said as you curled your hair.

"Really?" Yongbok said as he brushed his own hair. You finished a curl of your hair and nodded.

"I hardly know how to even use it," you laughed awkwardly. As you and Felix walked to the subway station he explained the basics about it and you caught on quickly. When on the train it was a little awkward but you managed to survive and arrive at your destination. A big city with lots of people and shops. You took it all in with one big deep breath before looking up at Felix. "So where do we go from here?" You smiled as you tilted your head.

"O-Oh we just went over this way a bit. It's been a while since I've been here haha~" he chuckled as you made your way over to one side of the street, there you made your way over to the breakfast joynt. You walked in and it was the cutest restaurant ever! It was red and gold themed and all the seats were styled to look very cute. You picked a table near the window and sat in front of Felix, the eye contact with him making you blush. Then a waitress came over and gave you glasses of water and the menu. Felix thanked her before she left to go attend to someone else. You picked up the menu from the table in front of you and tried to gather all the English you knew. You got some basics out of it but still struggled to understand most of the food. Felix on the other hand had already decided what he wanted.

"Can you read everything alright?" He said leaning over the table closer to you. You blushed a little.

"Um not really," you chuckled and Felix described all the dishes to you in Korean. You tried your best to listen but his visuals were just too distracting. You thought to yourself about having a crush on him. He was very kind, hot, and overall a great man but the potential of this feeling being mutual was low. 

"So do you know what you want?" He smiled up at you and you panicked. 

"I think I'll get the basic um," you pointed to the English words that described what you wanted.

"Egg breakfast?" Felix read the words you were pointing at and you nodded. "Alright, now we wait for a waiter to come here." He laughed, his freckled cheeks swallowing his eyes. You awkwardly waited before the same waitress to come back and asked for your orders. Felix did all the talking for you and you thanked him. "No, no I'm happy to help and it's just my job,"

He always says "it's just my job," but he seems rather outgoing for it to be "just his job"

As you waited Felix took a selfie with you and you had some idle chit chat. Once food arrived you dug in. The food was great and you left a tip for the waitress. After leaving the dinner Felix suggested you hold his arm.

"Huh? Why?" You asked innocently not meaning any offense.

"This street is really busy and if I lose you it'll be hard to find you again," he explained before locking his arm around yours. "I hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable," he chuckles and you shake your head. As your walking through the line of shops you spot an adorable set of jeans that are big and have hearts bleached into them. Your eyes light up and you drag Felix inside with you. Felix doesn't take much liking to your fashion taste but he does appreciate the beauty of it.

You then found the size of jeans that matched you and started browsing through the store. A few cute shirts and a summer dress and you were in the dressing room. Every outfit you tried on you showed Felix and he'd always leave nice and some honesty. But after he did mention something he'd say "I don't think that color looks great but get it if you'd like of course~♡" You greatly appreciated his kindness until.

You were in the dressing room and you bent over to get the next shirt you were going to try on when you felt your bra give out. You thought the band had just come undone but when you slid your hand up your shirt you notice it was broken. You panicked for a moment when Felix knocked on the door.

"Everything okay?"

You stumbled over some words and ideas before replying "I'm gonna let you in but promise not to freak out," you said before quickly opening the door and slipping him inside.

"So what's the problem?" He asked innocently.

"Well you see...my bra broke. I think..." you blushed as he thought for a moment. "And they don't sell any here so don't think about that either..." you bit your lip in stress.

"Here take it off and you can use my jacket to cover yourself until we get back to the hotel," he said calmly. He was very relaxed and had everything under control. He turned around and let you change and take off your bra. He handed you his jacket and you slipped it on with embarrassment.

The jacket smelt like him. It was warm and smelt of coconut? Maybe some oatmilk in there. You discreetly smelt his jacket before he left to pay for your items. You followed him out to the counter and you gave him your card. One swipe later and you had all these cute clothes! You thanked him for taking you out for a treat and he said it was really no problem and he enjoyed the time out too.

On the way home he held your bags and you got tired of standing on your feet so you called one of your parents personal drivers and got him to pick you and Yongbok up. The two of you sat on a bench as you wrapped Felix's jacket around you. It was quite awkward. You just sat there slowly swaying your feet as Felix's blonde hair blew in the wind. The view was beautiful. You were admiring it when a car pulled up to the two of you.

The two of you got in and drove back to the hotel. Once you got inside you changed your clothes and laid down on the bed. Face into the pillows. You then felt some weight on the bed next to you. "Tired?" Felix said softly.

"Yeah," you groaned back. "I just wanna relax for a bit," you mumble. Felix understood and laid down next to you while looking through his phone. His presence relaxed you, but you also felt butterflies around him. Like stage fright but different but you don't want him to go away! You felt your cheeks getting hot as you day dreamed about him.

"Everything alright dear?" He asked as he leaned forward.

"Y-yeah just trailing out into thought haha~" you sat up and grabbed a book from your suitcase. You sat next to Felix on the bed and started reading.

"Watcha reading?" He asked leaning over to look at your book.

"Merupuri," you smiled.

"I've never heard of that series. What's it about?" He seemed interested and he set his phone down.

"It's about a prince who runs into this girl but he's in a whole new world. Before getting banished into earth he had a curse laid upon him. He is very young but when in darkness he grows older. About 10 years older." You explain and Felix keeps listening to you. "It's the girls job to watch over him because she picked up this magic mirror thingy haha~ the way to break the curse is to kiss the boy but she's love sick and saving her first kiss for the boy she truly loves,"

"I see she's playing hard to get," Felix chuckles.

"Pretty much. In the end the girl falls in love with the boy and breaking the curse. It's kind of like a forbidden love." You smile at him.

"Sounds like a cute story," Felix smiles before going back to his phone. He was scrolling through Pintrest and saving the occasional photo.

"This is kinda weird but do you want to play a boardgame?" You said as you set down your book.

"Sure, anything you want dear," he turned off his phone and set it aside. The two of started playing dominon on the floor of the hotel and the first round didn't last long but the second round went on for at least 2 hours. The two of you had plenty snacks while playing but it got to a point where you needed something like a dinner. Felix ordered some door dash for you and it wasn't long before the two of you dug into the food.

This whole trip Felix had been treating you like a princess and it had your heart fluttering. As Felix was cleaning up the garbage from dinner in his skinny jeans and baggy tank top. There was a knock on the door. You got up and unlocked the door to see your parents. Your mom gave you a big hug.

"Did Felix treat you good today?" She said with a smile.

"Yup, he spoiled me," you chuckled.

"Oh good, good," she said before kissing your cheeks. She then looked at Felix and gestured for him to come over. She gave him a little hug and gave him his paycheck. "There's a little tip in there too," she smiled in her boogie fur jacket. Felix bowed and thanked her before your parents went back to their own room.

"I'm getting quite tired despite how early it is," you sighed as you laid on the bed.

"Then go rest," Yongbok smiled.

"But I will wake up at like 5am," you chuckled as you felt Felix's presences behind you.

"I'm going to get changed don't turn around," he said out of no where.

"Oh-okay," you chuckled.

"Why do you sound so distraught?" Felix said softly.

"You just surprised me. I didn't expect you to say that," you giggled as your feet swayed in the air.

"I trust you, I mean there's not much to look at anyways," he said before clearing his throat. "But um, do you mind if I keep my shirt off? I don't know what it is but I'm so hot" he said awkwardly.

"Sure, why don't we turn the AC up," you began to stand up before Felix spoke.

"I still don't have pants on!" He said with panic.

"Sorry I forgot," you said before stuffing your head in the pillow to cover up the blush on your face. You heard him put on some shorts and he walked over to the AC.

"You can look now," he said as he pressed some of the buttons on the air conditioner. You rolled over and looked at his back. His bare skin turned you on way more than you'd like to admit. "Is that too cold for you?" He turned around to find you staring at him.

"N-No that's just right," you smiled with pink cheeks. "I'm gonna change too, so turn around," you blushed and Felix spun around to look out the window. You changed into some pajama shorts and decided to keep your shirt off, only your bra on. "Okay I'm done," you said and started preparing for sleep. You noticed Felix blush as you bent over to pull down the sheets, your cleavage exposed.

"I uhm I need to go the bathroom," he said as he started heading for the bathroom, "I'll be right back," he shut the door behind him and you laid down in the sheets.

When Felix returned he went on the opposite side of the bed and turned off the lamp. "Goonight love," he said and you felt your cheeks get hot.

"G'night felix," you said before rolling over and looking at his back again. The way it raised with every breath he took. "You have nice skin," you whispered as your hands went to touch his back.

"You think so?"

Your hands haulted at his words. He turned to look at you with big doe eyes and a smirk. He picked up your hands and caressed them softly with a gentle smile. You noticed his eyes traveling down your body before looking back at you in the eyes.

"You know I'm not just hot..."

To be continued

[fanficfanatic000]

Edward fucking munson pt 3

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Enemies to lovers

18+

"Well its steves party but he said i can invite anyone." You nodded in agreement And after your shift ended you drove him to the party at Harrington's. You and Steve never really talked you went to kindergarten and middle school but never really talked. You walk into steves backyard he has a pool and a balcony bad combination. The party was packed. Then in came him Edward fucking munson and he definitely saw you he walked towards you "hey " your face was turning red "fuck off munson" you said harshly "You know what WHATS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM" you tried to walk past him but he grabbed you by the arms gently but tough "let go " "no cant you just tell me whats wrong" you tried to escape his grasp but as you were struggling he let go and you fell back into the pool eyeliner bleeding down your face your t shirt sticking to your chest and your hair completely soaked you get above water and everyone saw you again. "Woah you couldnt hold your balance slut!!" A blonde boy yelled from the crowd your white t shirt revealing your black bra. "What a freak!!"And it was minutes later almost everyone started laughing. Your eyes beginning to well up in tears. Eddie standing there shocked he looks angry after he heard there comments until he started to stumble fake like and he threw himself into the water with you he git above the water and everyone started laughing at him too he grabbed you up in his arms And got out of that pool his adrenaline strength kicked in he rushed you up stairs to the luxurious bathroom and locked the door behind him "fuck sweetheart i-im sorry...." you were still angry but also upset from ridicule "now your sorry" you fell to the floor eddie had already put you down "eddie my freshman year you were my friend then you started acting weird calling me names and laughing at me then you left me!!! Acting like we weren't friends when i nee-eded you the most"He looks down at you and he slid down the wall across from you "y/n im so sorry i was dumb still am... i started teasing you because i had a crush on you i didnt mean for it to catch on then I was embarrassed then you disappeared.....you disappeared and ive been missing you for so long m, sorry i really am" he looks at you softly his face Turning pink "look just dont ever do that again and we will be fine munson"He smiles his face lights up and he grabbed you into him. You wrapped your arm around the back of his neck he leaned back with you in his arms and now you're on his lap his face red and you feel somthing hard underneath you "S-Sorry !" he lets go and you're getting a view of him his tattoo visible from his wet hellfire t shirt his hair wet but drying faster than the rest of him. His brown sugar eyes wanting over your body...especially your see through shirt "eddie i-i have a crush on you too"He gulps "have dont you mean had?"You leaned in and whispered in his ear "no i meant have.. " then he kissed you his hands grabbed your hands roughly "My princess y/n ". The end

[biggestsimponhere]

Finally someone who loves Steve Murphy 😍 I feel deprived 😫 please could I get prompt 4 from the first list because we all know he has anger issues

Mine - Steve Murphy x (f)Reader, YES IVE LITERALLY BEEN SO SAD WITHOUT STEVE FOC SO I JUST DECIDED TO WRITE IT, also thank you for clarifying which list <3 makes it much easier. Again i gave connie a wife (yes i’m gonna keep changing her wife’s name it’s fun) - no i’m not sorry about it i’m also in love with her and would like to pretend she would fall in love with me

Prompt - “Hey in case there was any miscommunication, you’re fucking mine”

It’s that time of year again, the DEA’s annual party where everyone gets to mingle or whatever. You have no idea why they still throw this party when half the people don’t even want to be here but they’ve recently made it mandatory so here you are sitting at the open bar in a gorgeous dress waiting for any of your friends to appear. You were most excited to see steve, you’re not together at least you haven’t made it official. You’ve been sleeping together but the touches started lingering and he started spending more nights at yours. The forehead kisses and bringing you coffee while also saying you guys should just be friends wasn’t helping. You must have zoned out thinking about steve because someone tapped you on the shoulder.

Connie squealed your name bringing you into a hug. “I can’t breathe con” You choked out looking at Celina. She just smiled at the two of you. Connie finally pulled away letting you breathe. “Sorry, I just missed you” She said wrapping her arm around her wife’s. “I missed you too” You said smiling at her. “Why are you alone? Where’s steve?” Celina said scanning the area. “Steve’s not here, i don’t know where he is” You paused raising an eyebrow at her before continuing, “Why would i know where steve is?” They looked at each other before laughing. “What? What’s so funny?” You said looking between the two of them. “Nothing, come dance with us” Connie said pulling both your hands so you had no choice but to follow.

Having seen no sign of steve or javi you continued dancing with connie and celina who kept shoving shots in your hand claiming you all needed to get drunk together. Of course you agreed because you needed a bit of fun. After about four shots not including whatever alcohol was in the drink you had earlier you were getting pretty tipsy. Someone’s arms slid around you and you turned around hoping it was steve. It was not. It was some guy from the photo department you’re not sure why you don’t temper his name right now. It’s like James? Jackson? John! John that’s it. You removed his arms from you and stepped back. You were getting drunk just not that drunk.

Then another pair of arms slid around you except this time it was paired with a familiar and comforting sent. You leaned into it and steve kissed your forehead while glaring at john. “Hey in case there was any miscommunication you’re fucking mine” He practically growled into your ear. That sobered you up pretty quickly. Turning in his arms you smiled at him. He continued glaring at john before looking at you. He visibly relaxed as he caught your eye. John quickly took the hint and walked away somewhere. You didn’t care where you just kept looking at steve. “Did you mean that?” You asked softly. His eyes darted away from you before looking back and he nodded slowly.

You leaned up and cupped his cheeks before pulling him into a deep kiss. Cheering erupted from next to you and you both turned to see Javi, Connie and Celina whistling and shouting at the both of you. “Finally” Celina said throwing her hands up. Javi rolled his eyes before handing five dollars to connie. You and steve just rolled your eyes at their antics. “Let’s keep dancing” was whispered in your ear as you were pulled back into steve’s chest. Connie shoved another shot in your hand and you took it i mean you did say you were getting drunk tonight. As the night progressed and you kept drinking steve refused to drink more than one glass.

“Honey i think it’s time i get you home” Steve whispered to you. You giggled against his chest as he pulled you in. “Wait! i wanna say goodnight” You laughed pulling away to find Connie and Celina. After wishing them goodnight you made your way back to steve’s side. He finally got you into the car after a lot of convincing and the promise of food from that little restaurant around the corner for lunch tomorrow. Steve slid into the drivers side and you leaned against his arm as he drove. “Come on sweetheart, gotta get you inside” He said trying to help you out of the car. You giggled as he hit his head against the roof of the car.

“I’m coming, don’t worry” You said climbing out and throwing your arms around him. He tucked his arms under your legs and began carrying you bridal style. Wow he is much stronger than you thought. “Hey stevie?” You whispered into his chest. Or maybe you didn’t whisper because he laughed before responding, “Yes honey?” He smiled down at you. “Do ya know how much i love you” You said snuggling further into him. “I do” He smiled to himself. “Do you know how much i love you?” He asked his accent getting a little thicker making you laugh again. “I do” You said leaning up to peck his lips.

As he set you down on the bed in his apartment he walked over to his drawer to pull out some boxers and a tshirt when he looked over you were no longer in your dress. He set the boxers next to you and then helped you into the shirt. He smiled as you brought the collar to your nose and breathed him in. Once you had got into the boxers you sat back down. “Honey, we gotta go take your makeup off” He said pulling you back up. “I’m sleepy” You said leaning into his chest. He let you stand there for a minute as he held you before walking you to the bathroom. “Do you want to do it or do you want me to do it?” He said handing you the wipes. You looked up at him with the softest expression as you asked if he could do it.

He nodded and took the wipes back before ever so gently wiping at your face. You closed your eyes as he continued wiping your makeup off. Once he was sure your makeup was gone he leaned down and kissed you on the forehead. When he pulled away he looked at you and you were smiling up at him. “Let’s go to bed” You said grabbing his hand and heading back into the bedroom. You both settled in together with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. “Goodnight, i love you” You mumbled into his chest. He replied “Goodnight, i love you” leaning down to place another kiss on your forehead before the two of you drifted into a peaceful sleep in the arms of your lover.

[wjbs-aus]

Since this is having a resurgence kinda,

Reblog for a larger sample-size or something? Or not. Your call!

Context for each below.

Back in, like, 2016 or something, the Secondary School I was at did lifeguard training as part of its PE curriculum; one of the activities involved was rescuing a hollow plastic dummy. When it was my turn, I grabbed it, but it suddenly filled with water, and I was suddenly dragged to the bottom of the pool; eventually I managed to let go of it, and I was allowed to sit on one of the benches next to the pool for the rest of the session.

Last year, around Halloween, my dad randomly phoned me up and asked if I wanted him to buy me an axe or scythe from the Halloween section of Tesco. I said I wanted a scythe, and he bought it; it was very plain, and consisted of a hollow plastic tube and a simple-looking, poorly-moulded blade that slid over the top. It eventually got pretty badly-damaged, and my brother - in a fit of sleep-deprived impulsiveness - secretly bought me a cooler, much higher-quality one (the blade is actually a skull wearing a mask with a long "beak" attached to it!)

Technically, I don't have all the Skylanders figures I got when I played, since at least one is still at the flat I used to live in, but otherwise I have all of them. Also I only had Giants, Swap Force and Trap Team; I missed out on playing Spyro's Adventure, and I only had a Wii at the time so I couldn't play most of the games after it (except for Superchargers Racing, which is literally just the racing minigame from the fifth game but released on its own).

Play Hard Reset. Do it do it now. It's short, kinda frustrating at times and has questionable writing and voice-acting, but the aesthetic is really cool and it has an interesting mechanic where the player only has two weapons, but can unlock different modes for them that effectively mean the player has ten. I haven't played much of Hard Reset Redux, but it seems to be the same, but balanced a bit better and with much better dialogue.

I got into ZScript late last year, but I've got pretty good at both the inheritence system and making original stuff (which is technically jus the same as using inheritence, but you have to define everything yourself.

I can't remember exactly when this happened, but it was around either Halloween or Christmas (since Nightmare Before Christmas was on TV) and possibly in 2018; I made myself a cup of tea, but didn't notice that the kettle had limescale remover put into it (aside from the colour being a bit off). When I started drinking it, I immediately spat it out, and since then it's been known in my family as A Thing I Did Once™.

I love Sea Power! They make good music! Check out Let The Dancers Inherit The Party, it is their best album in my opinion!

Yep, done this one. Haven't finished Quake 1's second expansion and I'm only on, like, map 2 of Quake II, but I've played all of Quake IV's story campaign. Also, if it counts, Quake III's "singleplayer campaign", which is just a series of increasingly-difficult bot matches.

When I got Reaper one of the first things I recorded was a scream, which coincidentally ended up being a scarily-good impression of the headless bombers from Serious Sam.

A while ago, I tried playing the Game Boy Advance version of Bionicle Heroes with an emulator, since I wanted to check it out; when I tried playing it with VBA, it crashed on the second screen, and while another emulator (namely No$GBA) allowed to, I had to make a DS4 controller-profile specifically for use with it, since it wasn't registering my inputs properly with my regular one. Eventually I just bought a Bionicle Heroes GBA cartridge online so I could play using my DS Lite.

Anyway here's the new scythe.

This picture physically hurt to take, like I had to lean really far back and stretch my arm really far out

[luckyluan]

The Detectives, Pt. IV

FEB 12, 2024 - 11:10PM 

Sawyer watched as Payton fussed with a length of golden rope. Payton, a lanky Black guy with his signature tapered fade tucked neatly under the brim of a black velvet Stetson, did not look up. Bright constellations twinkled and drifted across Payton’s hat as he shook the length of rope for good measure. 

“You know we don’t usually work this hard up here in St. James Parish.” Sawyer drawled. 

Sawyer stood with the thumbs of his rugged hands looped around the grimy denim of his boot cut jeans. His plaid shirt fluttered in an easy breeze that bent the grass into smiling curves. The same breeze carried Sawyer’s scent under Payton’s nose and his mouth began to water.  

The sweet top notes of Sawyer’s decadent smell reached him first. He smelled of a warm sugar—like cookies or a homeade pie—at first; and then the enticing smell of his soap caressed Payton’s nostrils like the scent of a leather and cashmere. It was the bottom layer that made it imposssible for Payton to think. Sawyer’s final layer of fragrance smelled of sweat—a hard day’s work—that penetrated the other smells with a subtle occupation that can only be described as expert. 

“People only come up here to party or pet the unicorns, but look at you.” Sawyer smiled. “You’re handsome when you work.” 

“Only when I work?” Payton shot back. 

“I figured I’d start half mast. Test the waters before I dive. Can’t blame a cowboy for being cautious.” Sawyer said.  

Sawyer leaned on a bale of hay and the tailored sides of his button down shirt front slid apart revealing Sawyer’s glistening abs and another source of distraction for Payton. 

“Come here. What’s on your mind?” Sawyer said. 

Payton let the bale of hay tumble from his fingers. He removed his gloves and wrapped his arms around Sawyer’s midsection. He felt Sawyer’s heavy arm sqeeze his shoulders as he nuzzled his chin in the stubble at his chest. 

“Everything’s so fucked.” Payton said. “Someone is attacking Brimmens Alumni. Your dad’s retired friends, Maxim and Antwan; those kids that don’t have their powers anymore; the guy that came back to life; The four Blanchard Brothers entire power situation—the youngest even developed an a new abnormality. Even your missing unicorn...all because of this damn artifact.” 

“Darlin’, you’re one person. There’s no way you are carrying all these things on your mind at once.” Sawyer mused. “You have to give yourself a break.” 

“You don’t get it, Sawyer. Something is going on. I think all of this is connected. That trident...it started something I can’t put away just yet.” 

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, darlin’. I just want you to take a minute to yourself. I like to think you came up here to visit your husband, but I know you came up here to see if I talked to my pops or not.” 

“That’s not true!” Payton shot back. “...what did he say though?” 

Sawyer laughed as he spun Payton until his back was against the bale of hay. He stretched his arms out on either side of Payton and held his gaze. Sawyer’s green glass eyes made his brown face feel like a painting. Payton could usually get lost in his ocean colored eyes, but he was too distracted and Sawyer only smiled. 

“Pops is handling it. He’s pretty upset after the scuffle with Baz, but he’s tracing the artifact as it changes hands. The last person that used it apparently erased his bestfriend’s memory with it.” 

“So, he’s closer to finding out how it got here...” Payton mumbled. 

“He’s your chief, baby. You talk to him. I’m sure he’d love to hear you out.” Sawyer said. 

“I know. I just don’t want it to seem like I’m skipping the line, ya know? The Commissioner of the Magical Artifact Reclamation Sector is my father-in-law.”  

“And his fine ass son is your husband. You know, sometimes I’m not sure which impresses you more and I don’t know how to feel about that. Just talk to him how you talk to Commander Vance or Chancellor Goddfrey.”  

“But they’re easy to talk to, babe. Your dad is...different.” Payton spoke to a loose button on Sawyer’s shirt. 

“Be careful.” Sawyer’s tone warned. “And you know I stay out of Office of Restraint business. I mean, what would I know anywany. It isn’t like anyone talks to me not even my husband who came all the way to St. James Mythic Resuce to ask me about my dad.” 

Sawyer shrugged past him and stormed off toward the lake. A griffin bowed to him as he passed and Sawyer instinctively returned the gesture before trudging off. 

“You never learn. Do you, Payton Kyle? Fuck.” Payton chided himself. 

He shoved his gloves back on and heaved the last bales of hay onto his pile. He huffed and whispered a few choice words at his husband’s back. He stopped only when his phone rang. 

“Kyle.” He said into the receiver. “Nah, that’s not far. I’m at my father-in-law's ranch not too far from there. I’ll meet you in 20.” 

Payton shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and turned to the massive dog lounging in the front seat of the truck. The grey dog lifted one of its heads as Payton approached. 

“When he stops pouting and undoubtedly asks where I am,” Payton said. “tell him his husband had to go back to spying on his coworkers to keep magic from being exposed—a favor he was asked by his father-in-law.” 

Payton stormed off and came to a halt. He turned and trudged back to the three headed dog who fixed him with an incredulous look. Payton scratched the dog behind the ears. 

“Thank you very much, Deuchalion.” he cooed. 

The dog licked a fork tongue at Payton’s cheek before he stormed off in the direction of the farm house. 

[descendantofthesparrow]

Cant stop this feeling - Harry Hook x reader- SMUT FIC- p2

SMUT FIC-MINORS DNI- All ‘important’ characters are 18+!

warning; slightly dubcon due to drugged sex, only Harry is drugged (he fully aware about what's going on and is consensual (both parties are), but its still drugged sex) basically sex pollen smut but its sex potion, SMUT, unprotected sex (don worry (y/n) is on birth control), rough sex, hella swearing and dirty talk. breeding kink

i still think this is the best thing ive ever written (smut wise)

=

Chubby!reader-no fem pronouns used but using female anatomy cuz this is fully self-indulgent, im still very much getting used to writing smut so i’ll be sticking with fem biology for a bit longer until i’m fully comfortable writing that, then I’ll start experimenting.

=

God dammit again?!

Only a few hours after dinner, pretty much-an hour- before he had knocked on your door the night before, Harry was in front of you once again, cheeks flushed, panting, and eyes dilated with lust. “Again?” you whispered, reaching out and cupping his overheated cheek and Harry melted into you, your simple touch providing intense relief.

“Aye, started a few minutes ago,” Harry grunted as a cramp washed through his body, thankfully not as painful as they were yesterday. “Didn’t want ta wait n end up like last night; smelled ye’ again too.” you stared up at Harry, sighing as you realized you were going to have to help him again. Not that you minded but, something was clearly very wrong if this was happening two nights in a row, and seemingly at the same time both nights.

You pulled Harry into your cabin, locking the door behind him. You turned, your nose almost meeting Harry’s face, he was so close to you; his hands twitching with the urge to touch you. “Darlin’” Harry rasped, drool already accumulating in his mouth. You gave him a comforting smile, leaning up and kissing him softly, humming against his lips as he whimpered, his nimble hands clutching to your plush waist.

“I dunno if I’ll be able to control myself, m’ sorry if I hurt yeh” Harry whispered into your mouth, already backing you up to press you to the wall next to the door, his hands drawing down to your sleep shorts and slipping inside, pushing his fingers into your heated skin. You just smiled against his lips, winking at him; chuckling as his cheeks got even darker “I told you; I like it like that” you muttered, your breath stolen from you as Harry fully pressed against you, his fully hardened cock pressed against your already aching core; his lips on yours in a searing kiss.

His hips rut into yours, sending shivers up your spine as his cock rubbed against your ever-sensitive clit. Thank god you didn’t give those magic pills back to Uma yet, you were going to need them in the morning. Harry moaned into your mouth and suddenly you were all too aware of where he had you pressed up. You pushed at his chest, his hands withdrawing from your shorts, his eyes glassy and confused “too close to the door” was all you said before you were picked up and moved to the other side of the room, now being pressed against the wall next to your bathroom. “better” you muttered before being kissed again, your shorts being pushed down in a feverish motion, your underwear going with them as Harry started to get onto his knees, kissing your exposed skin as he did.

You gasped as Harry’s tongue met your clit, his wonderfully long and thin fingers trailing the lips of your cunt, soaking up all the wetness that had already accumulated there and inserting a finger into you. You grabbed his hair, curling your fingers into the soft curly locks, moaning and rutting against his mouth and fingers as he dutifully prepared you for his cock.

Even under some sort of-lust spell or whatever it was-he was ever the gentleman. Soon a 2nd finger joined the first, loosening you up in careful thrusting motions that he meshed with spreading his fingers to stretch you out. “mmmf” you huffed, out, your head hitting the wall as a third finger slid into you, his mouth still licking and socking at your clit, sometimes his teeth would gently slide over the sensitive bud and it made your knees buckle every time, his free hand keeping you upright.

You looked down, surprised to see Harry staring right back at you, his eyes not as dark as the night before. You swallowed harshly, realizing this was more ‘him’ than you thought “Didn’t you say you had no experience prior to all this?” you panted, eyes rolling back as Harry’s fingers pressed against your g-spot and he fluttered his tongue against your clit. He chuckled against you, pulling back for only a moment, his lips and chin covered in you. “goin’ on instincts…and whatever” he nodded down at himself, a cheeky grin on his lips “this is” at that, he latched onto you again, trying to get you to your peak and make sure you were ready for him.

You twitched and whined as you felt that coil in your gut begin to tighten, chest rising with each pant that escaped your lips. “H-Harry~” you breathed out, tugging at his hair as he brought you to the edge “Aah~” he pulled out and off, licking his lips as you kicked his thigh “h-hey! Not nice!” Harry just chuckled darkly, his eyes once again that dark stormy blue. He stood, taking off his shirt and pants, pulling his underwear down just enough to free himself, and unlike last night, the tip of his cock was a dripping peach red, ready to go.

“One word and I’ll leave” Harry rasped into your ear, his arms on either side of you, his right arm drawing down to grab the inside of your leg. You leaned into him and licked his jaw, gasping as his wonderfully thick cock pushed into you a moment later. Like the night before, he started at an even pace, just letting you get used to him before he was fucking you like you were nothing but a lifeless toy against the wall. Your butt hit the wall with each thrust, one leg pinned to the wall with his hand keeping it elevated. His other hand was on your waist, gripping you so tightly you were sure you were going to bruise.

You and Harry were practically molded together, his chest pressed against yours and he chuckled at the feeling of your breasts bouncing against him. He pulled away just slightly, using his left hand to pull your shirt off, leaning down and devouring your skin, putting himself in an awkward position to lick at your breasts. He growled against your skin as his neck started to hurt, and he grabbed your other leg “jump” he muttered as he stood up, kissing you as you did as told and wrapped your legs around his hips, your head hitting the wall as the slightly new position helped Harry go even deeper.

“ah-ahhh~” you could feel your drool leak down the side of your chin, your body bouncing with each hard thrust into your cunt. You could feel his drool as well, dripping from his mouth where it was buried in your shoulder, leaking down your collar bone and going in between your breasts. You almost squeaked as he pulled away, licking up his spit from between your breasts and back up to your shoulder, licking and biting your neck when he reached his target. He sucked hard at the crook of your neck and you rocked against him, humming as he shuddered, stopping his rough thrusts for a moment to grind into you, rolling his hips just right to send lightning up your spine. “ho-shit” you gasped, tossing your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer, lips at his ear. “Don-don’t stoooop mmmmf Harry~”

He kissed you, hard, and you could feel the blood rush to your lips as he bruised them. He continued to rock into you, throwing a few shallow thrusts in as well before pounding into you once more; every five thrusts he would grind again, a few shallow thrusts, and then back to the hard rhythm

It was fucking wonderful, the coil in your gut only getting tighter with how he took care of you, even when controlled by something else. His hand pulled away from your hip, nimble fingers rubbing at your swollen clit until your orgasm hit you hard, your toes curled and your vision went white, gasping as your hearing went out as well, a harsh ringing overpowering everything else; including the sound of Harry fucking your wet cunt.

He fucked you through your high until you were back on earth, panting heavily as you already felt another one building up, you writhed under his grip, holding him close as you clenched around him, trying to get him to come so he could get whatever the fuck it was out of his system. “c’mon Harry, fuck me, fill me, come inside me” you purred into his ear, your voice silenced as he kissed you again, biting your lip hard as his hips stuttered to a stop; and once again, an anatomically impossible amount of cum flooded your cunt, so much you could almost feel it. Harry’s hand landed on your belly, his thumb rubbing the space where your womb was.

“fuck” he whispered, opening his eyes slightly, the darkness clouding them went away just slightly. He had the right idea to come to you right away instead of waiting and trying to rub it out. Last time he couldn’t even speak until he came a 2nd time. “better?” you whispered, and Harry looked at you, his brows furrowed at your swollen lips and bruising neck.

He nodded, cracking his neck as another wave of heat washed over him “yeah-but” he groaned slightly, feeling you clench around him “still not done” he muttered, pulling you close and lifting you off the wall, turning to toss you on the bed, positioning you to lay sideways, your left leg now resting on his shoulder and the other curling around his left thigh. You moaned softly as his still hard cock throbbed from within you, some of his cum leaking out as he started off slow again, spilling down your thigh and once again pooling on the sheets. “fuck” Harry grumbled, glaring down at the offending substance.

Harry angled himself a bit better and fucked you into the mattress, your hips and thigh pinned as he used you. You couldn’t breathe, the air knocked out of your lungs with each hard thrust. “fu-aahk~” you moaned out, shuddering as Harry darkly chuckled from above you “you fucking like tha’? ye fucking slut, so fucking greedy fer me cock, jus’ like last night. Fuck fuck fuck” Harry panted out, his eyes somehow darker than the night before as he slammed into you, somehow harder than the previous time only a minute before “gonna fucking fill ye till ye fuckin’ pop, get yeh all full of me cum, fuuukin” Harry’s hips stuttered as his 2nd orgasm quickly approached, along with yours “get yeh pregnant, look all fuckin’ cute with a big belly” you felt yourself flush at his words, damn did he have a breeding kink or something? Because holy fuck he was getting off on the idea of getting you pregnant, clearly.

Harry came to a near stop, rutting and grinding up into you as he came inside once more. You moaned softly at the feeling, the overflow squirting out and onto the bed, soaking your inner thighs and Harry's pelvis. “shit-“ Harry cursed, and you noticed as he sat up, his eyes were brighter, maybe this time you wouldn’t go for five fucking rounds like last night.

But you would tell he wasn’t done yet; his cock still rock hard and twitching inside you. As Harry pulled out, you could feel his cum follow, pouring out of your cunt and pooling on the sheets till they dripped off the side. “How in the fuck am I doin’ tha?” Harry asked himself, one hand on your knee as he admired your leaking cunt. You chuckled weakly from under his body, lifting your leg to take it off his shoulder and rest it on your other leg, giving your hips a break “I think we should ask whatever is in your body?” you rasped out, voice almost gone from how it was being used.

Harry chuckled, licking his lips as he stared down at you, god you were so fucking cute, well fucked sparkling (e/c) eyes staring back up at him, swollen lips smirking at your stupid joke, your skin glistening with sweat and cum covering your inner thighs. How had he never noticed you before? How had he simply walked past you for the last two years?

He leaned down, catching your lips in a gentle kiss, his hands trailing up your sides to cup your face, chuckling as you made a confused noise at the gentleness of it all. He pulled away, smiling as you stared up at him. you moaned softly as he pushed back inside you, gently rocking into you, almost covering you with his body as he fucked you gently. He mentally patted himself on the back for getting to you sooner than later, it would definitely take less time to purge whatever it was from his system, last time he wasn't even in control until after his 3rd orgasm.

He slid his hand between your legs, playing with your swollen clit until you came, squeezing him tightly as you shuddered, cheeks flushed and chest rising with heavy pants. You came to a slow-burning but just as intense orgasm, clenching around Harry as you came on his cock. He groaned quietly, lips grazing your collarbone as he fucked you through it, his fingers never leaving your clit. A few moments later he came again, filling you up even more until there was no room, spilling out between the crevices between Harry’s cock and your cunt.

“Dammit” Harry huffed, he was still hard, and he could still feel that hazy cloud of arousal in his head, his body thrumming with lust. He looked up, seeing you looking back at him, frowning slightly “still there?” you asked quietly and Harry nodded, sighing slightly; pausing as you lifted your shaky legs and rested them next to his head, your thick thighs set right in front of his dick “use my thighs” you muttered, head falling back as Harry kissed your calves and did as told, sliding his cock in between your thighs, fucking them hard and slow.

You squeezed your thighs together with your remaining strength, letting yourself moan and pant as he groaned loudly, clutching onto your legs as If they were the answer to his life’s problems. You could feel the head of his cock rub against your clit with each thrust, and you looked down to see the leaking tip push through your thighs.

You giggled a bit, biting your lip and letting yourself enjoy the moment and the slow feeling of your 3rd orgasm building up with each pass on your clit. You hummed as Harry’s fingers found your clit again, rubbing it when his cock didn’t, you both came at the same time, thin ropes of cum decorating your belly. You could feel Harry go soft between your thighs, but he didn’t move, just breathing heavily as he felt himself finally tire out.

“oh thank the gods” Harry muttered, pulling out of your thighs and setting your legs down gently “I don’t think I could’ve gone fer five rounds even if I was amped up like last night” you hummed, thinking the same thing, and it seems your theory was right, Harry coming to you right away instead of trying to rub it out led to him purging whatever it was in his body quickly.

Harry’s warm hands rubbed your body, leaning over you carefully “Are ye okay?” Harry asked quietly, smiling at you softly as you peered up at him. you hummed again, shrugging “I’ll definitely feel it in the morning” you joked, giggling as Harry rolled his eyes, standing up and getting a new set of soft towels to clean you up with.

He walked back over to you with several warm damp towels, about to sit you up when he thought better of it, and grabbed one big towel to set below your hips, looking down at the pool of cum that continued to drip onto the floor “that’s gonna be fun to clean” he grumbled, sitting you up on the towel after making you wrap your arms around him, eyes going wide as most of his cum that was still inside you flooded out, and thank god he got a towel because wow there was a lot “what the fuck is going on? I should not be able to…have that much?!” Harry said in a nearly panicked tone, something was definitely up, he had to ask Uma about this no matter how embarrassing it was going to be to explain.

You giggled at the absurdity of it all, leaning back to grin at Harry who stared wide-eyed at you “imagine feeling that inside you, and only getting more of it every time the other one comes” you teased, giggling as Harry looked very apologetic, bumping his head into yours “m’sorry” he grumbled, taking a damp towel and running it over your body, lifting your hips to clean your abused cunt. Harry then laid you back out on the bed, pulling up his underwear over his finally soft dick and getting to work on cleaning his mess on the sheets and floor. Luckily only the cover was ruined so he simply replaced that, doing his best to clean off the rest so-once again- the cleaning crew wasn’t traumatized.

“We do need to find out what's going on” you muttered sleepily from your spot on the bed, hands curled under your pillow as Harry collected your discarded clothes “really-it’s almost as if you got spelled or…I dunno’ drugged with somethin’” Harry popped up at that, looking at you as if you had just told him the meaning of the universe “what?” you asked quietly, already falling asleep. he shook his head, smiling softly.

“nothin’ just-that might be what’s goin’ on…some isle kids ain’t above doing something like tha’” Harry muttered, brows furrowing as if he ate something sour. You hummed, eyes fluttering closed as you fought off sleep. Harry pulled his pants and shirt on, biting his lip as he glanced between you and the door. He decided to once again not leave you alone after fucking you four times, it just felt rude if he did. He went to pull out the couch bed but was interrupted by you patting the space next to you, looking back at him all sleepy.

“tis more comfy” you muttered, smiling as Harry walked over to you, pausing to grab your clothes from the edge of the bed where he left them and helping you get dressed so you weren’t in the nude for the rest of the night. “yer takin’ one of those pills as soon as ye wake up, got it?” Harry muttered, sliding his arm under your head as you cuddled into him. you nodded, just happy to have a cuddle buddy. You sat up, realizing you had to go to the bathroom, and wiggled out of bed, yelping as your legs gave out as soon as you stood. Harry caught you with impeccable speed, sighing in relief when you didn’t hit the floor. “c’mon” Harry grumbled, suddenly feeling very tired as he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the bathroom, stepping out to let you go in privacy.

Soon you were back in bed with the handsome pirate, falling asleep in his arms as he got comfortable with you next to him. he once again thought; why did it take me so long to see you? He kissed your forehead, falling asleep with ease.

Hopefully, this wouldn’t happen the next night.

-the next night, in Harry’s room-

Harry stared up at the ceiling, glaring at nothing as that now unmistakable heat rose in his body, his dick getting harder by the moment.

Oh god dammit, again?!

-end of part 2-

hehehehehe, Tommy/Harry tiddies

@sephiralorange​