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princejiu · 5 months

Text

𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | alessia russo x mma!fighter

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Alessia encounters an unwanted attention and tries her best to hide it from you, knowing that you would absolutely do anything to keep her safe.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | blood, assault, violence, ptsd, cursing, maybe attempt of murder

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | ik its been two months almost thre-anyways. this is 9 thousand something words and it took a lot of brain capacity.

The night was young, streetlights lit the city as rowdy adults filled London with joyous laughter. It was like any other Saturday night to most but not to Alessia.

She was leaving you home alone to attend Kyra's birthday party along with the other gunners. Usually, you'd be by her side through it all, but you were still healing from your previous fight.

Patched-up cuts and bruises here and there. None that you deemed bed-rest worthy, yet remained home to steer clear of the scolding you would get from your coaches.

So, here you were sitting with a large bucket of popcorn and the latest season of Love Island. It took a great deal to convince Alessia to leave your side for the night, refusing to go firsthand as the urge to smother you with love and care surged as time went on.

After countless reassurances and kisses, Alessia reluctantly switched out joggers for jeans and a pullover for a top. She stood in front of you, twirling to give you the 360. Deep down, you started to regret inducing her to go. While Alessia had a full blowout, you lounged on the loveseat with shorts and a sports bra. "And to think you didn't want to leave."

Alessia grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it, pointing a non-threatening finger at you. "Do not start teasing me. You were the one who was so adamant about me going. It's your fault I'm in this vest instead of my jumper."

"Love, if it makes you feel any better. I prefer you in nothing at all."

Alessia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in annoyance. You grinned, beckoning her over, even when you managed to annoy her Alessia could never resist you. She trudged to you, pursing her lip when you patted your lap.

You grunted as she plopped down on you, the unexpected force taking you by surprise. It was Alessia's turn to grin, hooking her arms around your neck, yours to her hips. "I take it you didn't like my joke."

You were unfazed by Alessia's evil eye, more than used to it. "You do not get to make jokes like that. You're forcing me to go to a party I don't want to go to and you're watching Love Island without me. You're being mean." You snorted, and with a click, the game show switched to one of your old fights.

Alessia turned her head away, your fights always made her a bit queasy hence why she never watched them. "Yes, how can I be so cruel to my lovely girlfriend? I should be punished for my crimes." Alessia slapped your chest, not a fan of your mockery.

"Quit the sarcasm. Save that for someone else other than the love of your life."

You pecked her cheek, a quick apology. "You're right. The love of my life only deserves respect and devotion." She nodded her head in agreement, her pride growing as she had the big bad fighter everyone knew lay down the treatment she deserves.

"That is correct but don't think this sucking up made me forget what you've done to me."

You groaned, throwing your head back. "Love, you haven't left my side since my fight, normally I wouldn't mind but you've been cooped up all week. And it's Kyra's birthday, imagine the headaches she'll give you for missing it."

Alessia could already see it, Kyra having a kick at her for not showing up. The Australian was known for her little sister energy that never ran out, much to the unlikes of her teammates. Alessia recalled Kyra's recent mischievous act.

A week ago, Steph forgot to grab Kyra's favorite candy when making a store run and a childlike Kyra took it to offense. She hadn't stopped yapping the entire day, Steph departed training with ringing ears that lasted the next day.

Alessia didn't want to have a similar outcome.

"That rascal hid my boots last time because I refused to prank Katie. A nuisance she is." You smiled, Alessia's annoyance that wasn't targeted towards you was amusing to watch. You slipped a hand under her top, rubbing the warm bare skin a contrast to your cold hands.

"So, what I'm hearing is that I'm right."

Alessia gave you no acknowledgment, gasping when she felt your thumb dip below her waistline. You leaned in for a kiss, though you were met with a flat palm to the face. You pulled back, scrunching your nose. Alessia smiled widely, "No messing up my lip gloss, darling."

For the very first, you scowled at Alessia's bright pink lips. The desire to botch Alessia's perfectly applied lipstick grew by the second. You exhaled sharply, leaning back to put some distance between you and her restricted lips. "That's unfair. You look ravishing and you're saying I can't kiss you? Must you tease me?"

Alessia giggled under her breath; she kissed your neck, unapologetic about her teasing. "Oh, my big baby. Have the consequences of your actions come to play?" You frowned at Alessia's mocking pout, the way she spoke as if she were speaking to a child stirred something within you.

You roughly tugged her closer, inches away from her lips. You removed one hand from her hips, gripping her jaw in a tight-loose hold. Your thumb swiped her bottom lip to the corner. Her once-perfect gloss now smudged and not in the way she would have liked.

You brought your thumb to your lips, putting on a little show, humming at the taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Alessia froze, she didn't expect you to turn the tables on her so fast. You grabbed Alessia's phone out of her back pocket, hearing a ping. You opened her phone, purposely ignoring her. "Vic's here. You should get going if you don't want to be late."

Alessia remained unmoved, stuck in a trance you led her into. You chuckled, no emotion behind it, standing up causing Alessia no choice but to do so as well. You took her chin in between your two fingers, "A little quiet, aren't we? What's the matter, Alessia? Have the consequences of your actions come to play?"

Alessia gulped at the bite in your tone, she shouldn't have baited you. It always ended with her pinned to the bed, a position she loved yet a lesson she never intend to learn. Alessia's phone pinged once again, she paid it no mind too focus on your little stare-down. "Better get going before Vic comes up and knocks down our door."

Alessia hesitantly took her phone, squinting as if she was trying to figure out your plan. "Just like that?" You raised a brow, ignoring the pinch of pain as your stitches stretched.

"I can do worse than a smeared gloss, you of all people should know that. I suggest you leave now before you don't at all." Alessia's finger hovered over her lips, she could feel the slight stickiness at the corners of her lips. You hadn't done much to taint them, but Alessia wished you did.

Your eyes began to soften at Alessia's timid stature, tipping her head up with a finger. Wiping away the small mess you created. "Have fun tonight, okay? I love you."

A smile grew on Alessia, puckering her lips for a kiss. "I thought you didn't want to ruin your makeup" She rolled her eyes at your cockiness, pulling you down to finally bring you into a kiss you both craved.

Alessia was the first to separate, "I love you too. Don't wait up." She gave you one last peck, grabbing her purse on her way out. Swaying her hips side to side, mindful of your wandering eyes.

"Not having the time of your life are you, Less?"

Lia winced as Alessia's head snapped to her, "I am. Why do you ask?" Lia didn't believe the young girl and it showed, Alessia stuck herself at their rented-out booth, doing nothing else other than sipping on her club soda.

"You haven't moved since we got here. What? Are you not used to having your little bloodhound with you?"

That got a laugh out of Alessia, Lia grinned cheekily. You were always a topic used to tease Alessia, two total opposites that fit together like a puzzle. She pushed the national captain as she poked fun at her. You were deemed 'The Bloodhound' early in your career by the media after endless fights where you left the cage a bloodbath.

"You can say that. She's still heal-" The boisterous of their teammates cut Alessia off, stumbling and cackling at whatever their drunk minds thought was funny. Leah threw herself next to Lia, pointing to Katie, her finger unsteadied as a result of her tipsiness. "I got it last time, McCard. It's your turn."

The Irish childishly shook her head, throwing up the bird, "No." Leah huffed, her infamous frown appearing. She turned to the person next to Katie. "Fine. Caitlin, you go."

"She's not going."

The blonde threw her arms up in frustration, so much for being capitan. "Someone had to go, Katie! You've been weaseling your way out of rounds for the last two months!" The said weasel denied it, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Leah's glare intensified, she wasn't a quitter, far from it. Even as a drunk, giving up was never in her dictionary. She stood up, ready to drag the queen of reds to do her go.

Lia, being the only sensible one there, quickly sat the Williamson down, giving her a warning not to start a fight.

"What about our depressed lover over there? She hasn't done anything. No dancing, no drinking. A little mood killer if you ask me." Katie winced as she received slaps from all around, unable to pinpoint who exactly hit her. Alessia cleared her throat, dumbfounded by how she got dragged in.

Lia held out a hand, stopping Katie from going off her rockers and possibly digging her own grave if you were to find out about how she spoke to your fiancé. "Hey, now. Alessia isn't in the mood, we should respect that and be happy she's even here." Alessia squeezed Lia's hand, thanking her for coming to her defense.

However, the people-pleaser side of Alessia won. She moved to stand, but Lia's hand halted her from doing any further. Her concerns made Alessia glad that she had someone in her corner for the wild night. "It's fine. She's sorta right, I've been a killjoy. Maybe this will loosen me up."

"Are you sure?"

Alessia gave Lia the okay, slipping out of her hold, and down to the crowd. Internally gagging at the stench of body odor hitting her unexpectedly. Fresh air welcomed her as she exited the crowd, breathing deeply, the cool air traveled through and around her body.

She rested her arms on the bar, calling the bartender for the round she volunteered to collect. Alessia daydreamed as she waited, snuggling up against you after tonight sounded like the perfect dream to make into a reality.

"Hi."

Alessia didn't flinch at the new voice, too caught up with herself to realize that she was being spoken to. She jumped slightly at the tap on her shoulder, surprised by the close proximity. "Oh, hi." It was small and brief, a simple acknowledgment of him. That's all. At least Alessia thought it was.

"Are you here alone?"

Alessia shook her head uninterested, looking back at the bartender to see if he was preparing her order. He wasn't.

"Who are you here with?"

She sighed, annoyed that he couldn't get the hint. Unbothered to look at him, Alessia answered, hoping the mentioned presence of her team would scare him off. "I'm here with my mates."

"Brilliant. Would your mates mind if I tag along?"

Alessia isn't the type to be easily angered, she grew up with two brothers by force she learned how to have more patience than the average person when it came to men and their small minds.

But something about this stranger irked her. So, she bit her tongue of what she really wanted to say, 'fuck off' and instead said, "They would actually. It's a girl's night and they'll be really upset if it was intruded."

Her saving grave, the bartender came back and he wasn't alone. Alessia quickly picked up the platter, leaving without so much of a goodbye.

There were no cheers or clicking of the shots, as everyone threw their head back to down the hard liquid. Kyra emerged from the crowd, eyes blown and a big smile that stretched cheek to cheek.

She latched onto Alessia's arm, "You're being boring tonight! It's my birthday!" Kyra tugged her to the middle of the room, an area Alessia tried to avoid.

Alessia grabbed onto the nearest person, drawing them along, soon enough a chain of gunners were trailing behind her. Alessia took shot after shot, shortly after, her body relaxed into the rhythmic beats.

She neglected to notice the unexpected hands on her waist as the hands closed around her, squeezing tightly, Alessia instantly knew that these hands weren't a friend of hers.

She roughly pulled away, spinning to see the stranger from the bar. He wore a smirk, smug that he got as close as he did with her. "What the hell are you doing?" He threw his arms to the side, showcasing a little dance of his.

"Dancing, dear. Come back, we were just having some fun."

Alessia shook her head, disgust seeped under her skin. She felt repulsed at some stranger touching her. "No, leave me alone. I am not interested."

"It looked like you were pretty interested. What was that move you did? The one where you were moving your hips side to side. Do you mind doing that again?"

Alessia turned away, thinking it would be best to take her leave rather than speak to him any further. Alas, the stranger couldn't care less. He followed Alessia, shoving bystanders out of his way. "Wait! Do not run off!" She ignored him, scurrying to the booth of gunners.

Just as Alessia was about to reach the table, she was pulled back. She gasped as a huge body engulfed her, Alessia mustered up the strength to push away but the attempt was too futile. "Get off!"

Alessia curled up as much as she could in his hold, his efforts to land a kiss on her neck was challenged by her strong resistance. "I'm a nice lad! Don't be so difficult!" He laughed in disbelief as Alessia struggled, the scene began to gather the attention of nearby clubbers.

"Let me go! Fuckin prick!"

Everything happened in a flash, Alessia was yanked away, bodies meddled between him and her. Mixture of brunettes and blondes filled Alessia's sight.

"You're okay. They're handling it."

Alessia could hardly register Viv's soft voice, the tall Dutch led her out the club, withdrawing from the chaos as the fight got bigger. Viv rubbed circles on her back, trying to calm the shaken girl.

She ignored the security guards that rushed into the building, faint sounds of glass breaking reached her ears. "I'll take you home as soon as Beth is done."

Panic swept through Alessia, red eyes going wide at the thought of returning home. "No! If I go home, she'll know something happened. I can't- I can't-" Viv hushed Alessia, hugging the younger as she spiraled.

Alessia didn't have to specify who she was talking about, only one person was waiting at home for Alessia. That person is you.

"Less, are you scared of yn?"

It was a question Viv didn't want to ask but did. Alessia's reaction to going home wasn't normal especially if it held the person who loved you and you, her. It's a red flag that Viv wasn't so quick to brush off.

Alessia flinched, staring at Viv as if she said the most absurd thing known to man. "What? No! No! Never! I'm scared for her! If she finds out what happened tonight-" Alessia suddenly stopped, she didn't want to believe what happened, happened.

How close he was, how his hands were all around her, how she felt his front pressed up against her. It physically and mentally sickened Alessia to the core.

She collected herself the best she could, staring straight into Viv's eyes. "She'll kill him. Viv, those beatings she does in the cages are nothing. That's her having fun. But this will set her off. You have to promise me that yn wouldn't hear a word about this. Viv promise me."

You couldn't find out, not when Alessia knew the lengths you'd go to protect her. Not when she knew how ill-tempered you were and how easily you got lost in your fit of anger. Alessia was your weakness, she knew that you knew that. Which is why you couldn't know, Alessia had no doubt you'd go on a manhunt to track down whoever harmed her.

Viv gazed into the abyss, unable to comprehend the fear Alessia had for you. You were someone with physical power, that Viv knew, you had the skills and scars to prove it. It was what you trained for, nearly two decades you've been building up your skills to hurt people for a living.

The active terror Alessia showed let Viv know that you were lawless by your own rules. "Okay, okay. I promise. And the others will too." That calmed Alessia down a bit, she leaned into Viv's side watching the passing cars as they waited for the rest.

"Fuck off!"

Katie came out first, followed by the rest of the players and security guards. Yelling and cursing lingered in the air, Viv ignored it, guiding Alessia to the car. "Let's wait in the car. It'll be a while before they quiet down."

The unfortunate events replayed in her mind like a broken record, it kept playing and playing. If she was lucky, sometimes it'd short-circuit. Then, all she could see was you, it felt like a dream. Like you weren't real, and that she was simply imagining someone to protect her to the very end.

But you were real.

You were real and Alessia had a tough time believing that. Believing that you her knight in shining armor. Whispers of promises in her ear at night, how you engraved that into her. But, you were nowhere to be seen when Alessia needed you the most. Instead, you were at home resting.

Part of Alessia wanted to blame you, yet she couldn't, she wouldn't. Not when you were her person, especially not when Alessia understood very well that if you were with her, you'd be in a jail cell by the time the sun rose.

You lost the ability of control when it came to Alessia, if someone were to so much as trip her, you'd return the favor tenfold. The more Alessia thought about you, the more she desired to go home.

"Hungry? We can go to Greggs."

Beth peered over at Alessia, the young striker hadn't made a peep since arriving at the couple's flat and that was hours ago. Beth and Viv stayed up the entire night nurturing Alessia to a certain extent, she allowed. Which wasn't much.

She inhabited the couch corner, not even a slight inch off. She hadn't spoken, eaten, or moved, her brain going haywire, and they couldn't do anything about it.

Beth kneeled, placing a comforting hand on Alessia's knee, gaining her attention without spooking her. "Why don't you take a shower? I imagine sticky sweat isn't the best feeling on the body."

Ease rippled through the couple as Alessia finally moved in the last eight hours, though it was short as Alessia's movements were slow and calculated. Beth patiently waited for her, directing Alessia to the awaiting shower that called her.

The shower did more than just cleanse Alessia of sweat, the overwhelming emotions of the night washed down the drain never to be seen or felt again. Alessia preferred it that way, it was better to believe that it was gone rather than it be stuck on her.

She'd rather be numb than feel what she felt in that dreadful encounter.

Alessia avoided looking into the mirror, squeezing the towel around her tight as she exited the warm steam. The coldness of the early morning greeted her, she walked over to the bed, holding up the Arsenal pull-over Beth set out for her.

She quickly put it on, brushing it down only for her eyes to catch the coloring on her hips. Her fingers lightly grazed the finger-print bruises, her breath hitches as flashbacks of his firm grip on her were physically felt in that second.

Alessia wanted to cry, she didn't want to feel as if someone was standing behind her, she didn't want to feel as if she was being touched like some sort of pet.

Alessia pushed down her tears along with anything else rising to the surface. She walked out the room, the conversation hushed as she came into view, and Alessia didn't care to bring it up knowing fully well it was about her. She sat next to Viv barely returning a smile, "Feel better?" Alessia ignored her, that was the better option.

The truth would raise more questions than she could handle right now. "I'm going home. Yn probably stayed up for me and I don't want to keep her waiting any longer." Understatement of the century. Alessia couldn't grasp the fact that time passed, only assuming, too stuck in her void to feel time's existence.

"Don't fret. I called her and told her you were too tired to make it home. She knows you're here."

Stunned, Alessia sent Beth a nod. "Thanks, but I should really get going." Viv and Beth got the obvious hint that Alessia didn't want to be there anymore, she quickly shoved her phone in her pocket, zipping past them.

The couple hastily followed behind, catching Alessia right at the door. "Let us drive you. We can get Greggs on the way." They didn't give Alessia too much room to argue, Viv grabbed her keys as Beth pushed her out the flat.

"You can ride front seat."

Alessia carefully closed the door, releasing a breath now that she was alone. Beth and Viv had been absolutely sweethearts to Alessia during her stay, but she needed time to herself, time away from eyes that were waiting for her to break.

Slowly and quietly, she shuffled to the kitchen, not a single object out of place since she left. Alessia grabbed a water bottle, the first source of intake she allowed her body to have. The Greggs paper bag perched on the counter, dismissing what Viv had gotten her.

In the safety of her own home, Alessia felt her body ease into itself, the familiarity of these four walls secured her protection and well-being. Something Alessia never thought she'd crave so much.

She went in search of the only person wanted, needed. Weights were lifted off of Alessia's chest when she caught you sleeping in bed, looking ever the most peaceful. A state that she wasn't going to ruin with the truth.

Alessia brushed loose strands out your face, laying on her side, snuggling up in your arms absent from the scary world. Her breath hitches as you pull her closer, "You're back." Your voice husky, eyes still shut half-asleep. Alessia's fingers found your dog tag, turning it over to see the engravement of her name and jersey number. A chain you wore proudly. "I'm back."

"Did you have fun?"

Her fiddling stopped, a small shutter of breath escaped her as the haunting hours came back, this is where Alessia was supposed to spew a little white lie. But she couldn't. Never has Alessia lied to you, never thinking she would need to. This would be a lot harder than she thought.

"Less, is everything okay?"

Your eyes barely opened, the bright light peaked through the curtain nerved your sensitivity. Alessia used her finger to soothe your wrinkles, humming as she tried to lull you back to sleep. "Can't remember much of it. I had too much to drink."

Two lies in one.

Alessia remembered everything and frankly, she didn't drink enough to forget.

You patted her back, comforting, "That's alright. You're home now." Your words brought her more comfort than you can imagine. Alessia was home now; she was home with you, within these four walls. She couldn't be more safer than she is right now.

In your upcoming years as a fighter, you were taught to control your emotions going as far as to eliminate them. The human instinct to feel sympathy for beating another wasn't an option when it came down to winning titles.

By default, you suppressed them to the alternatives outside the cage. Thus, you didn't experience the depths of anxiety or stress like many others did.

But, in recent times it seems as if you're experiencing life in a new manner. You've never been more uneased as you have in the past week. Even minutes before your matches were you never this stressed.

And the main reason for it all is Alessia. The only person in the world to cause you to feel things you normally wouldn't. A blessing and a curse.

Alessia wasn't acting like herself lately, a bit distant something she never was before. Alessia, by nature, was clingy. She clung onto you like a koala does a tree, cuddles, hugs, anything to make your bodies become one, she did. Which is why, her being so distant with you was concerning.

It's been a couple of days since her behavior shifted, at first you thought it was due to the rough start of the week, you were back in camp for your next fight thus your time with Alessia was shorten, she as well was dealing with some tension at work, none she was willing to elaborate.

You figured she needed some alone time to get through.

You tried to be there when she seeked you, yet she hardly did. And you didn't want to push her during a tender time, so you let her be until she was ready. Though, that didn't stop you from actively caring about her, little things such as making her breakfast, washing her uniform, nothing excessive in your mind. Still, Alessia appreciated it all.

Curiosity spiked when she began to wear long sleeves as if it were a second skin, typically you'd brush it off, thinking she hopped on some sort of fashion trend, but the summer heat had her drenched in sweat.

Your attempts to get her into your shirts-which she loved to steal and wear-was useless. Refusing constantly, Alessia stuck to her long-sleeves. You didn't push further, despite your worry each time she went out.

The electricity bill was off the charts that month in turn to keep her cool.

Your agitation heightened when Alessia started to spend more time in the guestroom, it was odd at first considering she rarely stepped foot in the room, in the two years you've lived there.

Guests sleeping over wasn't common therefore your guestroom remained unoccupied most of the time. Not anymore now that Alessia had taken the room for herself.

Aside from the guestroom, it appeared as if you were living alone. You were the only one occupying the common spaces, Alessia nowhere to be seen unless you looked for her. Eventually, your small time together doubled down to nil.

It pained you to see Alessia isolate herself, the last time she acted in such a way was when she was coping with body issues. An unpretty chapter in Alessia's life that none of you spoke about. To prevent a defense lock if confronted, you did whatever you could to build Alessia's self-love without addressing the matter upfront.

It was a bit difficult at first since Alessia's determination to avoid you persisted. You were limited to passing compliments, soft touches, and love letters that you laid in the middle of the bed for her to read when she got home.

Your brief time didn't stop you from showering your girl with the love that she needed and deserved.

The rough week passed and Alessia semi-returned to her normal state. She went back to stealing- your shirts, a more fitting attire for the summer- and her time in the guestroom lessened. She still retreated to the room here and there for an hour or two, nothing you were too worried about now that she seemed better.

Everything was going back to place that is up until, the festival incident.

It happened on a Wednesday afternoon, you and Alessia had gotten caught in the middle of a London festival. One you were aware of too late and thanks to your ignorance, Alessia faced the consequences.

You pushed through the busy festive, pulling Alessia by hand. Bodies pressed up against each other tight spaced, trumpets and cheers blaring in your ears. Rising temper balancing on the cliff's edge as you kept trying to find an escape route, the provoking factors placed you and Alessia on the brink of disaster.

You stood at a whopping six feet using the height advantage to look for an outlet, naive to the shifts in Alessia's breathing. Behind you, Alessia felt her mind and body going haywire.

She could feel her heart beating against her chest, head whipping side to side anxiously seeking for an out. Her throat closed up at the multiple touches on her, she shut her eyes to block out her surroundings but that only made it worse as she instinctively focused on her senses.

Alessia's eyes snapped open, feeling you tug on her. She instantly found your figure, taking her all to concentrate on you. Alessia internally struggled to not think about the prying flashbacks at the back of her mind.

It fought so hard to come forward, to torture her in broad daylight, but Alessia fought harder. She tried to pinpoint the difference between then and now.

The sun was the first she identified, the sun gave her clear view of everyone and everything around her, unlike the colored lights in the dark club. Then there was you. You were the major detail that differed to Alessia, you were there to protect and love her, that's all Alessia needed.

Yet, it didn't stop the strength draining from her body, replaced by what Alessia could distinguish as emptiness. It was in her best efforts to push down the vile feelings, but it was all in vain.

You stumbled back as you felt a cease in Alessia's step. You looked over your shoulder to see her head down, her form shaking like a madman. Without thinking, you closed the distance, calling out to her, but she made no sign that she heard you.

You lifted her head, eyes gaping when Alessia's red teary eyes made contact with yours. Less than a second, you wrapped Alessia in your arms, forcibly pulling her through the crowd, recklessly pushing people out of your way.

You sighed in relief as you and Alessia finally broke free of the bustling street ducking into a small alley. You leaned up against the building, Alessia sobbed into your neck as you settled her. Tears flowed nonstop, you ran your fingers through her hair, humming to tune out the festival's band.

"Can we go home please?"

Alessia looked up at you with her big blue puffy eyes, your heart broke. Your thumb wiped away the lone tear, pecking her forehead. The answer was a no-brainer, you pulled down your hood on Alessia's head, guiding her out the alley and to a taxi, keeping her as close as possible through it all.

For the next few days, you and Alessia isolated yourselves from the world. Alessia didn't want to speak further about it and as much you wanted to, you knew better than to push. You were just glad she wasn't shutting herself in the other room like before.

And Alessia hated it, she hated that you were walking on eggshells with her. She didn't want you to treat her as if she's fragile. Alessia's strong, she knew that she believed it, so why didn't she feel like it?

Instead, she felt suffocated. Alessia began to loathe herself because of it. The constant looks over her shoulder, checking her body as if bruises will appear, it's been two weeks and she can't move on.

A concern started to brew in Alessia's mind, she feared that your relationship may be the cost of her erratic paranoia.

In attempts to salvage or drag out the inevitable, Alessia spent more time with you, she no longer went on your daily walks, but rather to sit on the balcony for her daily fresh air. You didn't mind, she knew that you only went on those walks because Alessia suggested it first, couples' cardio she said.

In all her years, Alessia didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to save herself.

Too stuck in her head to feel Kyra poking her, the Australian entertained herself jabbing the mindless blonde. Giggling when Alessia didn't flinch at the dirty towel thrown at her face.

The younger picked up her water bottle spraying at Alessia, bursting out laughing when she screeched. "Kyra! Go away!" The mischievous player dodged the towel thrown back at her, running away before Alessia could do worse.

Alessia wiped the wetness with her shirt, thankful for Kyra unintentionally pulling her out of her prisoned thoughts. Leah patted the striker's shoulder, pitiful that Alessia had been chosen to be on the end of Kyra's pranks. "So, is the hound coming next week?" Alessia's lip twitched at your alias.

"What's next week?"

"You forgot? The sporting event remember, Jona told us two months ago."

Alessia racked her brain, trying to remember the said event. Then, it hit her, it was a small thing some organization was having to spread the word of football, gain some investors, nothing Alessia wanted to do with. She shook her head, tying up her laces. "I'll skip out. Not in the mood for socializing."

Leah gave her a look, "Mate, it's mandatory. You can't get out of it." Alessia groaned, her plans to laze around with you was a bust. Alessia liked the small bubble, you and her built in your time together, and she wasn't planning on leaving it so soon. But, it looks like she didn't have a choice.

"I'll ask her."

"Is there really a point to? We all know what she's going to say."

Alessia pushed Leah, the captain grinning cheekily at her, a teasing underlining in her words. Everyone who knew you and Alessia's relationship personally knew that you'd do anything she asked.

If Alessia wanted food from a place a town a way, best be known that you're driving all the way there. If she wanted a new car, you're taking her to the dealership within the next hour. In this case, you'd be attending before you were even made aware of it.

"Okay, I'll stop with the teasing...for now. We'll see you there, oh, and it's a white-themed dress code. So, tell the missus, no black. It's not a funeral." Alessia snorted, waving to Leah as she left the locker room. The drive home was about as peaceful as one can be after a long day at work.

Alessia pulled into the lot, funny enough, catching you as you stepped out of your car with a takeaway bag. She kissed you, your favorite way to be greeted by the love of your life.

You swung her gym bag over your shoulder. "What did you get?"

"A protein bowl from that Japanese restaurant down the street and your usual."

Alessia grinned, pecking you on the cheek. "You're the best." You hummed tiredly, holding the door open for her. "I have to speak to you about something." You perked, thinking that she would finally be open about what's happening these few weeks.

"There's this thing, me and the girls are attending. It's obligated that we go but on the bright side, we can bring a plus one. So, darling will you be my plus one?"

You deflated, disappointed but smiled nonetheless. Setting the bag aside, wrapping an arm around her waist, "I would love nothing more. Now, let's eat up. I'm starving."

"It also has an all-white attire. So, no digging deep in your closet for your black suits, darling."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn, mami!"

Alessia fought back a smile as you exclaimed loudly, she placed her hand in your reaching one, unable to fight a growing grin any further. She squealed as you spun her, her dress flowing in the air. "You look so good. Are you trying to put me to shame?"

Alessia rolled her eyes, slapping your chest, passing over to the mirror to put on the finishing touches to her outfit. "You flatter me too much." You looked at your girlfriend through the mirror, clearly offended by her words.

"If this is too much, then I'm not doing a good job. Because my girl deserves all the compliments in the world."

You rested on her shoulder, Alessia applied her red lipstick, in your mind she did it too slowly. "You do an excellent job, my love. I can promise you that." Alessia handed you her necklace, beaming at the sight. It wasn't just any necklace, but a 23-karat diamond necklace. One of its kind, personally designed for her.

You gifted to her on your first anniversary, a token that she belonged to you, an object of your love for her.

You clipped it, staring intently as she stroked the diamonds around her neck. Alessia's eyes flickered up to you, blushing, instantly recognizing the emotion swirling in your eyes. You bowed down to kiss upon it, your gloss sticking to her neck painting it with the outline of your lips.

Alessia tilted her head to the side, eyes closing in bliss. You pulled her closer by the waist, your fingertips resting on the zipper. Alessia pulled away when she felt the dress loosen around her, "We can't." You huffed at her breathless words, drooping your forehead on her uncovered back.

"Why? No one will notice us missing."

"Kim will. She'll have me running laps next practice."

You rezip up Alessia's dress, creating some needed distance. "We can't have that now, can we? Let's get going before I rip that dress off." You led her out of the flat, focusing on the numbers as the elevator went.

Internally fighting the urge to drag Alessia back to bed and have your way with her.

You grunted, feeling the hovers of Alessia's fingers dancing across your chest as she played with the buttons on your shirt. You wore a white pantsuit, two out of five unbuttoned, revealing your cleavage and dog-tag.

You looked too good, the longer Alessia studied you, the more regret bubbled in her stomach. She jumped at the elevator chime, you chuckled removing her hand from your chest, intertwining them.

You opened the car door for her, bending down to match her height as she sat in the passenger seat. The proclaimed passenger princess. "You gone a little quiet, Less." She ignored you, texting whoever was on the other end of the line.

You mockingly pouted, "Don't be bratty with me, love. You're the one who didn't want to take one for the team and run laps." You chuckled at Alessia's silence, walking to the driver side.

You cleared your throat, sipping on a glass of bourbon. Classical music played while businesswomen and men spoke as if they'd do any actual work outside this meaningless gathering. You scanned the room; blinded by the bright white all around. Not an interesting thing in sight.

You concluded that white parties sucked, and parties hosted by old men sucked even more. Them and their greedy ass money, you grimaced as the cheap liquor coated your throat, their inability to buy a good brand irked you.

You hid away in the corner with Alessia and her team, hanging off Alessia's shoulder like a piece of meat. You had no business being there, other than being her eye candy.

Usually, you'd be talking to Katie about her newly collection of red cards that never seemed to stay consistent, but she was too busy sucking up to her girlfriend and there was no way you'll get in the middle of that.

You prepared yourself as your eyes caught Kyra walking over after being shooed off by Leah, the mischievous smirk on her lips let you know that she found her next target, you.

Kyra plopped beside you, instantly ambushing you. You smacked Kyra's prying hands, "Kyra down! Down Kyra!" The little tussle wasn't fair, you refused to remove your arm from Alessia, but even with one hand, you were stronger than Kyra.

The younger girl ignored your demands, continuing her attempts to wrangle your drink out of your possession and into her mouth. "Kyra! I'll buy you a fucking drink! For fuck sakes!" Immediately, like an obedient puppy, Kyra unlatched herself from you, hands intertwined in her lap as she smiled innocently at you.

You whispered your departure to Alessia, well aware that you were doing everyone a favor by taking Kya away. "Follow me, you brat." She trailed behind you, sticking her tongue out at Steph when the older Australian caught her shadowing you to the bar.

As you left with the little troublemaker, the atmosphere in the Arsenal corner became a little calmer. Alessia giggled At Vic's story, the Dutch dodging the slap Alessia delivered, poking fun when she missed.

Vic's laughter died down as her eyes caught on something or someone. Alessia of her own subsided, curiosity knocked on her chest as Vic's body language changed into something Alessia couldn't identify.

"Less, is that the guy from the pub a few weeks back? The one who-"

Vic couldn't bring herself to finish, the effect still remained with Alessia, it was evident to all the girls. Alessia slowly and surely began to act like herself again, but the Arsenal girls knew better. They knew better than what Alessia was leading on.

She squinted as if it would help her see better through the vast crowd, a few bodies shuffled to the side revealing the reason for her all her recent troubles.

London was a big city, the percentage of running into the same people is less than one. The world had to be playing some sick joke on Alessia, as though it wanted blood to be spilled tonight. Something Alessia's been terribly trying to avoid.

Warmth drained out her system, suddenly everything felt chilly yet sweat lingered near her hairline. Alessia struggled to allow oxygen into her lungs, head snapping left and right,desperate to find you.

Vic tried to calm her, speaking in hush tones to get Alessia's attention. But it was useless, Vic called Leah over. Despite yelling for Leah, the entire team heard the urgency in her voice.

They rushed over, huddling over Alessia's shaking figure. Leah kneeled, cupping Alessia's face in her hands, coaching her through her panic. "Less! Alessia! Breath! Mate, breath!"

You shoved Kyra when she blew in your ear, rubbing the ticklish feeling away, never have you met someone so fearless of you. Granted everyone knew you wouldn't hurt Kyra despite her annoying antics. "You little shit, I swear-"

"Are you that MMA fighter? The Bloodhound, right?"

Kyra snickered, you pursed your lips giving her a look, one that meant that you're little fued wasn't over. You turned to the man in suit, he looked like every man in the room...dull. Can no man dress to save their life?

"Yeah, what's up?"

Kyra peeked over your shoulder, wanting a look at who took your attention away from her. Dread, that's all Kyra felt at the sight of him. She couldn't forget him, the bastard that hurt her best friend, someone you didn't know existed until now.

Kyra was aware of Alessia's severe desire to keep what had happened at her birthday celebration a secret.

Steph and Caitlin practically drilled it in her mind, not to slip up when you were around. Kyra didn't expect to see him again, no one did. But, to have him up front and center talking to you freely after what he had done to Alessia, sickened Kyra.

The Aussie searched for her teammates, hoping to catch someone's eye to tell them of the presence of their number one hit list. And Kyra did, however, it wasn't as she had hoped. Laura frenetically waved her over, pointing to you urgently.

"Do you mind if we took a picture?"

Before you could answer, Kyra wasted no time, pulling you away in the direction of her team. You let Kyra do as she pleased, taking in her hurried steps and anxious expression to mind. "Kyra, what-"

"Yn!"

You rushed past those in your way, cupping Alessia's face in your hands. Deja vu hit you like a truck, red teary eyes staring deep into your soul. You placed her on your lap, coaxing her to take deeper breaths. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

You looked at the Arsenal women for answers, their troubled aura triggered the heap of anger lying underneath your skin. "What the hell happened?"

Some stared at you and Alessia with sorrow, others avoided your eyes, looking at literally anything else.

Out of everyone, the only person who had the galls to look you in the eyes was the captain herself. "Mate, it's not for us to say." Leah glanced over to Alessia, silently telling you that if you wanted answers it would have to come for her.

Leah loved Alessia like her own sister and she couldn't watch her be destroyed by what happened and as your friend, she couldn't allow you to suffer in the dark, clueless.

"Less?"

Alessia's refusal to meet your eyes remained, your jaw clenched. You loved her with all your being, but the anger brewing was too hot to handle. Everyone knew something you didn't, something regarding Alessia, and it didn't take a genius to know that it was serious.

"Alessia." Your voice stern, you were no longer allowing Alessia's excuses to fly over your head. Alessia shook her head, "Please. Please don't make me." Your heart clenched at her pleading, deep down you didn't want to pressure her, but she left you no choice.

"Alessia, what am I missing? What are they hiding? What are you hiding?"

Alessia looked at her friends for help, at the back of her mind, she knew they couldn't. But it was worth a try. Lia nods in encouragement, something so small but so powerful for Alessia.

She cradled your jaw, leaning in your ear, unwilling to see your murderous anger spiral to what she knows will end in crime scene.

The gunners observed as your face hardened, concern switched to rage in seconds. Your brows deepened, jaw and lip tight, what caught their attention was your clenched fists. Veins popped out from your arms to the back of your hand, knuckles ready to take some action.

Alessia pulled back, caressing your pale knuckles. Her lips moved but nothing was coming out of them. You couldn't hear her begging you to not do anything, you couldn't hear her tell you she loved you. You couldn't hear anything but your blood pumping in your ears.

You abruptly stood up, bringing Alessia up with you. You passed your fiance to the nearest person, Beth. "Get her out of here." You pecked Alessia's forehead, ignoring her calls for you to come back. You head to Katie, the sole person on the team who supported violence. "Where is he?"

Wordlessly, Katie pointed him out and what do you know? It's the same dude that asked you for a photo, you scoffed at the sheer audacity of men. You pushed past Katie, sidestepping Leah's hand.

You expertly navigated through the crowd, stalking up to him. Even at a distance, you could make out his figure, he was lean and scrawny, nowhere near your built physique.

You sized him up as you approached, just in time, he turned to notice you, overlooking the smoke coming out of your ears. "Hey! Back for that pic-" His words cut with a right hook to the cheek, and in no time, he dropped to the floor.

You climbed on top of him, balling his collar in your fist, the other delivering strike after strike.

The feeling of your knuckles connecting with his jaw was exhilarating, with every punch you imagine his bones cracking. You grunted as he fought against you, but he was weak.

The first blow was enough to knock him on his back, the countless you landed after offered multiple hospitalization conditions.

You yelled as you felt hands pulling you off. You shoved the random men off you, glaring them down as they took in your physical state. "Touch me again! I'll fuck all of you up!" You momentarily forgot that this was a sports event, the people surrounding you most likely knew who you were.

You watched recognition hit them now that you were in your true form. They heed your words standing back to let you do what you were trained to do. They couldn't save a man getting beaten, but they can definitely save themselves from you.

Huffing, you quickly grabbed the bleeding man by the throat, slamming him onto the bar. The sound of glass pierced everyone's ears, but you paid it no mind. Holding his upper body against the bar, smashing his face in.

You were aware that even your worst opponents didn't get this type of treatment, he was different. He touched your girl, he hurt her, and he was going to pay for it with his life. "Why did you touch her?! Huh?!" An answerless question, you didn't want an answer.

And it wasn't like you were going to get one, the amount of blood flooding his mouth limited him aside from his faint pleas for you to stop.

That only angered you further. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" You let him fall to the floor once again, neglecting the slippery coat on your hands.

Alessia watched from afar as you mounted the stagnant body, repeatedly bashing his face. Beth tried to drag her out of the venue, but Alessia's too stubborn.

You did so much critical damage in a short span period, even from where she stood Alessia could see the blood streaks on the bar and floor. Leah took off first, Katie, Stina, and Steph following behind.

They all knew that you weren't going to let up any time soon and if you weren't stopped now. You were actually going to commit homicide.

Leah and Katie hook their arm around you, yanking you off. "That's enough! He's down!" It was a struggle for the two, you were too strong for them. Steph eventually aided in holding you back, and Stina helped push you four towards the exit.

Alessia quickly ran after you, the rest of the gooners chasing behind, unable to fight the curiosity to check the result of your wrath. When they got outside, they were met with you kicking a poor trash can into the road.

The four that dragged you out stood a safe distance away. The street bustling with dim lights and occasionally passing cars.

Alessia joined the four girls, knowing better than to interfere in your fit of rage when it was at its peak. Alessia studied your new appearance, growing breathless.

Hair ruffled; shirt wrinkled...stained with red patched. It was what Alessia was afraid of, you covered in red. You had blood splattered across your face; blood handprints swiped across your neck, your fists being the most coated.

You rubbed your hands together as if you were moisturizing, the blood quickly drying due to the cold night air. You sighed, a bit calmer now, muttering nonsense to yourself as you paced up and down the sidewalk.

Alessia took it as her cue to walk over, none of the gunners tried to stop Alessia. Wise enough to know that you would never hurt Alessia even in a foot of rage. "Baby. Baby." Her voice was soft, not to startle you.

Your wide eyes darted to her, unexpected by her presence. You were too lost in your fury to be conscious of your surroundings.

She tried to reach for you, but you retreated, shaking your head. "I'm okay, darling. You won't hurt me." You swallowed the lump in your throat, Alessia tried once more, pleased when you didn't move away.

She grabbed your hands, inspecting the cuts on your knuckles, it was hard to see but Alessia managed to pick out the open wounds.

She ignored the blood on her hands, roughly pulling you into a hug. The weighing of all these weeks came crashing down on Alessia, relief flooded her. However that relief was cut short by the sound of sirens, "We have to go! Now!"

Alessia balled the bloodied clothes, throwing them in the trash, it consisted of your entire outfit along with her dress. Its beauty gone as soon as another color tainted it.

Alessia didn't want a reminder of what happened tonight, even though it represented the degree you'd go for her. You nearly beat a man to death for her, guilt tormented Alessia.

The last thing she wanted was for you to run into problems because of her, Alessia roused from her mind upon hearing the water ceasing. Alessia walked into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway.

You sat in the tub, steam rising from the water. You held out your hand, silently offering her to join.

Alessia didn't think twice before she began stripping from her undergarments. She hissed at the heat, lowering herself deeper into the water until it reached her collarbones. Alessia rested back into you, your arms wrapped around her nude waist, burying your face in her neck.

You two sat in silence, embraced by the steam and contents of the hot water. There were no words to explain tonight, Alessia wasn't going to scold you and you weren't going to apologize. You both knew that tonight was needed for both your sanity.

When you passed Alessia over to Beth, the separation that you placed between you and her signified that you were going to do something she wouldn't like. Your attempts to get her out were for her sake, not yours. You weren't keen on her seeing the monster you become.

"I love you, you know that?"

Alessia rested her head back as you peppered kisses on her skin, her eyes fluttered open staring right in yours. Eyes that held love, more than she's ever seen in her life. "I know."

Alessia didn't need to say those three magic words back, you knew, you always knew. What you need to know is that if she knew. If she knew that you loved her more than the world could imagine.

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #thehound

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peachetteprice · 3 months

Text

The Ever-forgetful John "Soap" MacTavish,

Who just happens to turn the kitchen tap on during your shower, at the exact point in which you need the release of hot water on your skin, and - as a requiem of British plumbing - it sucks the warmth from the water until you're left shivering, ballooned by half your weight in suds alone, and crouched like a beggar before the shower-head until it returns to lukewarm; at best. Naturally, you've told him time and time over never to put the tap on; never to fill the kettle to boil, never to flush the toilet or wash his hands whenever you needed to clean yourself - it was common decency.

Now, he asserts this would be possible if you kept your showers short, though, you'd learnt by month three of your relationship that what he meant by short was a thirty-second (nary a minute) hop-in, hop-out with a bottle of three-in-one doused, rubbed and subsequently rinsed from every crevace and hair follicle on one's body, as he had done between training sessions, spat at by a man whose impatience rivalled that of WW2 bomber over London during the bloody Blitz.

Anything north of that - thirty-seconds, that is - is free game. Hence, what should have been a thirty-minute 'everything' shower becomes something of an Irish jig, tip-toeing back and forth like a naked man on hot coals, hissing, hoo-ing and hah-ing as you deliberate the numerous ways you might enact a similar torture on him. Hair-dye in his shampoo? Moisturiser instead of toothpaste? Refusal of any and all bathroom-related sex?

It's the thought that plagues your mind as you exit the shower, dissatisfied as if there still exists an itch on your back that can not be reached, that you've been aimlessly swatting at for the duration of your shower, wrapping a hasty towel across your torso to meet him in the kitchen.

You barely sniffle at the wet footsteps along the hardwood floors, though it's exactly the sort of foolishness you'd slap his shoulder for leaving, after you'd so dutifully mopped them the previous week. It'll sink in the grain, don't you know? The wood fibres will pick it up like a sponge in the rain, and you'll be left with damp-smelling floorboards that creak in the summer and crack in the winter, and there'll be no getting those mould stains out!

...Is the sort of vitriol your brain spills as you enter the kitchen, expecting to see Johnny fiddling with the kettle to perfect just the right amount of water for two cuppas - oh, none for him, only two for you, one right after your shower and another, ten minutes after the first.

But he isn't there. He isn't anywhere, in fact. The kettle isn't warm, and there are no used tea bags on the tea bag-catcher, seeping their remaining liquid onto the work surface so it stains.

But there is, however, one long green hospipe trailing from the kitchen tap, hooked taught on its end, out through a crack in the window, through the rear garden. And, whisked away by curiosity, you follow its trail.

There he is.

Watering the plants?

"Johnny?"

He turns. Almost points the hosepipe in the same direction, too, with that giddy smile of his, but he has just enough tact in himself not to do that - not after you've just showered. "Y'cannae be comin' outside in tha', Bonnie, you'll catch yer death!"

"Is this what you've been doing whilst my shower's been running cold?"

Johnny turns into an imbecile with that daft frown on him. Never has a man with such a large brain looked so terribly confused by something so simple. What were you talking about, what he's been doing? Cannae ye see?

"Not quite." His brow furrows. "Oi... I told ye to get back inside, lass. Never mind yous flashin' the neighbours." Then pauses for a moment as he re-adjusts his grip on the hosepipe. "Aye, ye might wanna watch this, though."

And watch, you do.

As he sheds the seriousness from his face, dons a more appropriately pleased smile, lifting the hose up to the neighbours fence - just so that the curve of the water arches over the panels - he sends a fledged stream over top of the boundary.

You're about to shout. Really. You're about to put on your mummy-voice (that's what he calls it), perhaps the only instinct you have in you to shout 'John MacTavish', in the most disappointed tone you can muster - reminds him of his Mam, it does, when he used to steal biscuits out of the biscuit jar when he wasn't supposed to - until he ceases everything that could possibly have warranted it in the first place.

Though, just as your lips part, you watch something black - maybe a dark brown, actually - dart across the stream, rendering it effectively useless in its spread.

Johnny turns to you, eyes wide, mouth agape. "Tha' was a good'un, did ye see that, love?!"

He knows you're confused. He can see it in your eyes.

So he does it again.

And it happens again.

A black - no, it's definitely brown this time, just soddened by the water enough to resemble tar - thing leaps past the spout of water. You can hear it chomping, jingling, panting, and it soon dawns on you what the shadow is;

It's a dog - it's the neighbour's bloody dog.

Johnny waits for your reaction - he hopes it's similar to his: complete awe. Imagine his shock - he was only watering the hedges! But you can only relinquish a sigh and a slightly (emphasis on slight) amused chuckle as you note;

"That's what you've been doing for half an hour whilst I've been in the shower? Playing with the neighbour's dog?"

"Yeah!" He gave the fence another squirt, and sure as the rain, the pup came rumbling after it, jaw agape for maximum bite. "An' I don't even like dogs, but ye cannae be mad at him, look how happy he is!"

And, as you step back through the kitchen with a tired laugh, feet still dripping with water, goosebumps prickled along your skin (and although there will be words to have later in the afternoon), you know his words hold some semblance of truth;

That you can't be mad at him, look how happy he is!

| Masterlist |

#call of duty #call of duty drabble #john soap mactavish #cod drabble #cod #cod fanfic #cod fandom #john mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap drabble #soap fanfic

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evanchantingpeters · 5 months

Text

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 3)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Just as Y/N thought she had it all figured out in LA, her world spins out of control when Evan Peters storms in like a tornado. Their electrifying hook-up leaves her reeling, but waking up alone, she fears the worst. Then, a note appears—his number and an invitation to a date teasing her with a chance. What starts as a romantic evening quickly spirals into a frenzy of hide-and-seek and sex.

Warnings ─ Swearing, semi-public, oral (both receiving), doggy, shower sex, overstimulation, fingering, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, extra smutty—you savvy pros, you know the game inside out ;)

Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Word count ─ 5K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

You stir awake, blinking sleep away and squinting against the sunlight that streams through your curtains. A lazy smile curves your lips as you stretch, reaching out for...empty sheets. Mmhh, you just love the taste of nothing.

Evan’s not here... Emotional damage, even if what you had was an agreed one-off fling.

A soft groan escapes you as you fumble for your phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding you. 9:30. As you bury your nose into his pillowcase, you inhale deeply, catching a generous whiff of his essence’s sweet residue. You sigh deeply as your eyes land on the bedside table. His missing keys solidify the reality that he’s bounced, and you can’t help but frown.

“I feel like his side hoe when I should be the main character,” you think aloud, grumbling, and it’s giving trauma dumping and anxious attachment. What a refreshing concoction of disaster.

But what really puzzles you is the extra blanket draped over your duvet like a surprise guest. You wrack your brain, trying to recall if you snuggled up in it during the night, but it’s as hazy as trying to piece together a fuzzy Freudian dream.

With a resigned sigh, you roll out of bed, already craving his warmth. Mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you distract yourself with social media updates, news snippets, and the day’s weather forecast while you shuffle to the kitchen for your morning caffeine fix. A pang of disappointment hangs around like a lost sock in the dryer, but you refuse to let it dim your day and activate your female rage.

Or so you tell yourself.

Podcast blaring in the background, you tiptoe your way to the bathroom, facing your reflection in the mirror. You impulsively retrace the invisible path of Evan’s touch on you—from lips to chin, jawline, and neck down your cleavage and stomach. Each sensation has left its mark, and you can’t get enough of the sweet echoes. You sniff through your hair and arms in a desperate attempt to capture his scent on you—a tantalising hint of cinnamon and the musk of his natural oils that never fails to make your knees go weak.

You hop into the shower, letting the scalding water wash away your frustrations. Emerging revitalised and ready to conquer the day, you hastily throw on your work clothes and toss your keys and lanyard into your bag.

And that’s when you spot it by the entrance door—the note board. That bold black marker circling today’s 9 pm to 6 am time slot on your shift calendar, an arrow pointing directly to a message, practically winking at you, “Dinner and quality time with Evan. Text this number for more details.” Your heart somersaults with joy as you read the note over and over again, a goofy grin spreading across your face like wildfire.

You press a quick kiss to the note, folding it carefully and tucking it away as if it holds all the secrets of the universe. With a sense of anticipation bubbling in your chest, you dash out the door, already fashionably late.

On the subway, you retrieve the scrap of paper, tracing your fingers over his elegant handwriting with a soft smile. With a sarcastic tonality, you already craft your message, “I thought ghosts just floated around, they don’t ask you out.”

Within seconds, his response lights up your screen. “Morning to you too. Slept well? I’m the upgraded phantom version. Meet your Casper tonight at 9?”

You can’t help but giggle at his wit. Another text pops up, complete with coordinates to the restaurant he’s inviting you. The excitement builds inside you like a shaken soda bottle, and you’re practically fizzing with anticipation to see what the night has in store.

Time seems to trudge along at a sloth’s pace as you grind through your shift at the boutique. You flash your best retail smile as you serve customers on the cash register. Though, your mind is a million miles away, replaying the reel of moments with Evan; those moments when you convinced yourself that your insides were gonna spill out while he was going to town on you.

Half-heartedly, you tidy up the shop floor, picking up stray items and straightening displays. But let’s be real, your fingers move mechanically, and your brain is on autopilot as your thoughts wander back to the anticipation of tonight’s date. The enthusiasm is buzzing through you like a sugar rush, making it damn near impossible to focus on folding clothes or rearranging racks.

Each interaction with a customer is a blur as you absentmindedly tackle the fitting room. They might as well be talking to a mannequin for all you care. Your mind is firmly planted in Evan-land, where every moment is hot and heavy, and you’re too busy mentally undressing him for the umpteenth time.

“Girl, let me in your bubble, would you?” The voice of Trisha, your department’s jokester, slices through your daydreaming like a ninja with a chainsaw.

You blink, momentarily disoriented, before bursting into laughter at her impeccable timing. “Trish!” you exclaim, relishing in her knack to crack you up with her quirky humour. “Sorry, this bubble is strictly reserved for someone today.”

Her giggle rings out like music in the store as she playfully rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine! You do you, boo. Just make sure to save some of that magic for the rest of us in Stylista Gine, deal?”

With a saucy wink, she sashays off to attend to her own tasks, leaving you to shake off your giggles. The minutes tick by, and eventually, your shift mercifully comes to an end. With a sigh of relief and a bounce in your step, you clock out, knowing that soon you’ll be back in Evan’s arms (and on his dick).

You hastily trod along Sunset Boulevard, your sleek dark coat swinging with each step, and your little black dress add an extra sway to your stride. You’re practically power-walking in heels, like you’re in a race against time and your destination is the finish line.

Arriving at the hotel he’s staying at, you adjust the strap of your black stilettos around your ankle, ensuring no wardrobe malfunctions with your stocking will disrupt your night. With your heart thudding, you breeze through the sliding doors and past the reception.

The tantalising scent of watermelon cocktail teases your senses as you strut in the bar restaurant, scoping out the room with mounting anticipation.

“Hi there, reservation for Peters?” you inquire, shooting a charming smile at the host, your racing emotions briefly receding.

Reciprocating with a polite grin, he quickly checks his tablet before nodding in confirmation. “Got it! Table 8. Right this way, miss,” he affirms, extending his arm in a welcoming gesture.

Following the host, you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement as you round the corner and spot Evan’s back at the table. He looks effortlessly handsome in his blazer, like he’s just stepped out of a magazine spread, making your stomach churn with blissful nerves.

“Looks like my date’s here, thanks,” you note quietly with a soft smile.

“Awesome! Enjoy,” the host replies cheerfully, heading back to his post.

As you approach Evan, you lean in and give his shoulder a cheeky squeeze—a silent yet affectionate greeting that speaks volume. His gaze lights up with recognition, and he practically jumps from his chair, his grin widening as he’s eyeing you from top to bottom.

“Hey!” he exclaims, his voice laced with enthusiasm. “My eyes needed a bit of a warning for this stunner. Your fit’s so sleek, it looks tailor-made,” he adds shortly after, beaming, as you flow in a warm hug, his arms clinging around you like he never wants to let go.

With a crooked smirk, you blurt out with a touch of sarcasm, “Thanks. I picked it up with you in mind.”

His eyes widen in surprise, his grin expanding by the second. “Seriously?” he squeaks, visually delighted by the notion.

You giggle, shaking your head. “Nah, but imagine if I did,” you fire back, your hearty laughter dancing in the air like confetti.

Before you know it, an electric tension fills the space between you as you stand mere inches apart, locked in a silent yet smouldering gaze.

“Are we on a ‘try not to kiss’ challenge?” he spills out, his voice an alluring murmur as his minty breath pleasantly prickles your skin.

A sly smile tugs at your lips. “Let’s see who caves and closes the gap first,” you hum as you flicker between his lips and his eyes. He feels the tension coil in his gut but forces it down with a hard gulp.

Leaning in closer, his breath mingles with yours as he whispers, “You gotta give your best shot not to kiss me, then,” his tone carrying a seductive undertone that sends a delicious thrill rushing through you.

“You wish. No chance I’m smudging my tinted lip balm,” you retort and playfully pinch his nose, punctuating your mocking banter with a wink.

With a graceful flip of your hair and a coy smile, you ease into your chair, feeling the heat of his gaze on you, all self-assured about the sensual spell you’ve cast over him.

He’s practically eye-fucking you right now, and you’re loving it.

“If that’s your idea of payback for sneaking out this morning, Y/N, I’ve been running errands and exploring new job prospects for next year,” he explains earnestly, handing you a straw for your cocktail and cutlery for your appetisers.

“And I may or may not have picked up a little something for you,” he announces next, pulling out a wrapped box from his blazer pocket, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

Your playful vibe evaporates, replaced by a whirlwind of shock and emotion. “Shut the…front door, no way,” you utter sheepishly as you cautiously reach for the unexpected gift.

With a throaty chuckle at your reaction, he jerks his eyebrows upwards, silently encouraging you to dive into the gift.

You eagerly rip open the packaging, gasping in disbelief. “Roland Barthes, Mythologies…Oh my days,” you cry out, unable to believe your luck. Your eyes flit to the curious glances from other patrons in the corner, and you swiftly tone your enthusiasm down a notch.

He nods in understanding, smiling fondly at you. “Yep, saw his Lover’s Discourse on your bedside table, and the bookmark was dangling on the final pages,” he justifies, a knowing twinkle in his gaze.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you slide the book in your bag and rise from your seat. “Ugh, Evan! Thanks a ton, you’re the best,” you gush, your voice thick with gratitude as you move closer to him.

He stands up too, his eyes fixed on yours, soft with affection. Stepping closer, his dark eyes dart from your lips to your eyes, as if he’s wordlessly asking for permission. Instead, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but you gently lift his chin and crane your neck, sealing his plush, pink lips in a brief yet tender peck.

As you break the kiss, Evan blinks in surprise, seemingly caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. His eyes search yours, silently questioning the unspoken feelings that hover between you, his own heart pounding with anticipation.

“Why did that take so long today?” he sighs against your ear, softly touching his lips. His voice, like honey dripping from velvet, resounds in your ears like a melody as he delicately brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes—the colour of rich black chocolate—are glued on yours, and the gravitational pull of his euphoric visual abyss draws you in.

Your heart flutters at the intensity of his gaze, feeling the heat expand through you. “It took long for momentum,” you retort, your tone light with playful teasing as you flash him a coy smile and sit back down.

The buffalo cauliflower bites aren’t the only thing heating up at your table; your conversation’s spicier than a jalapeño popper and with more layers than a double-decker with extra cheese. One minute you’re debating the perfect burrito toppings, embarrassing childhood nicknames, weird dreams, European cinema and 80s bands, and the next, you’re digging into careers, beliefs, goals, and life’s deepest truths.

It’s like a game of emotional Jenga—one block, or in this case, one topic leads to another, and before you could utter ‘Evan, eat me,’ you’ve both laid your souls bare without even realising it.

Fully immersed in the flirtatious banter, Evan beckons invitingly to the seat beside him with a subtle tilt of his head. “Why don’t you slide here, so I can properly admire your outfit?” he mumbles in a husky timbre, his eyes ablaze with desire.

But just as the tension between you ignites like a volcano lava, the waiter interrupts with his timely arrival. “What can I get for you both?” he interjects, shattering the moment.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you gesture Evan to go first, shooting him a ‘hold up, let me cook,’ look. With a bold move, you slip off your shoe under the table and discreetly brush your foot against his pant leg.

You feel him stiffen as he places his order, his composure wearing out. Stifling a giggle, you almost sadistically enjoy his flustered state as he clumsily fumbles and drops his menu, the clatter against the plate resonating like a thunderbolt.

He’s a ten, but he stumbles over his words and over-apologises when aroused in the most inappropriate settings. Take my money, that bumps him up to a solid thirty.

“Would you like extra cheese with that?” the waiter chimes in, oblivious to the charged atmosphere crackling between you.

Evan nods, swallowing thickly as your foot ventures higher up his thigh, stoking the flames of his growing hardness.

“And you, miss?”

“Eh? Umm, double everything, please. I’ll have what he’s having. Thanks,” you mutter with a half smile, your leg rubbing against his throbbing erection to a fever pitch.

As the waiter marches to the kitchen, Evan clenches his jaw, frustration painted all over his stormy gaze. He bunches his cloth napkin from his lap and tosses it onto his plate, blowing out a sharp, exasperated breath.

“Evan,” you call out with an apologetic expression, watching him push his chair with the backs of his knees and storm off to the bathroom.

You shoulder the heavy door and step into the empty men’s bathroom, your insides wounding themselves in knots. You scan the room, hunting for any trace of Evan, until your gaze lands on the locked door at the end. Curiosity gnaws at you, nudging you to investigate.

With a hesitant knock, you signal your presence. Before you can react, the door swings open, and Evan’s dark eyes greet you from the other side as he pulls you into the room.

The door clicks shut behind you as you quickly take in the gold-hued surroundings: a lavish toilet, a gleaming sink, and a long bench strewn with plush towels and designer toiletries. The place gives you a babushka-esque feel—a mini, fully-equipped restroom within the main one, and it’s like stepping into a VIP sanctuary.

Though, as you register Evan’s proximity, his body pressed flush against yours, your thoughts scatter like marbles on a polished floor, and pleasure sparks sizzle through your veins like a live wire.

“Hey,” you bleat, feeling the tension twist in your gut as you swallow hard, trying to steady yourself.

His strong arms cradle your waist. He draws you into a tight embrace until you’re cocooned on his lap, the heat of his body searing into your skin.

You cross your legs as he closes the distance between you, his veiny hands fondling and squeezing your thighs greedily and possessively.

“Evan,” you croak out, clearing your throat to ground yourself as he strokes your cheek with his knuckle. “I realise that might have been a bit much for public display…and I’m sorry,” you mumble, flashing him an apologetic look before averting your gaze.

But his expression remains stern, a furrow creasing his brow as he lets out an exaggerated huff—eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line. “That won’t fix it, I’m afraid. I’m still hurt and embarrassed.”

You quirk a brow at him, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you meet his unwavering stare. “And what do you suggest now?” you challenge with a sly smirk, a daring spark igniting in your face.

His lips curl into a sinister smile as he leans in, his scorching breath against your ear sending a tremor down your backbone. “Get on your knees, and use this beautiful mouth of yours to show me just how sorry you are,” he whispers as he’s massaging your tits, his words like an electric current buzzing through you at a high voltage.

You snort, your hand weaving through his silky hair as you draw him closer. “Oh, you think you’ve won? I’d be more than happy to suck you up—day and night, overtime included,” you purr, your voice husky with longing as you sink to your knees.

Positioned between his legs, you look up at him with a mischievous smile. “Someone’s suffering in there,” you coo and outline his stiff shaft with your tongue, feeling him twitch beneath the smooth fabric, aching for freedom.

Pinned against the wall, he sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, his hips buckling forward in desperate response.

The button of his slacks loosely holds on, barely containing his throbbing beast from bursting it open. Gripping the cold metal of his zipper between your teeth, you drag it down slowly, your pussy dripping as his low growl rumbles from his chest like distant thunder when he finally finds release.

You reach up, flipping down the elastic waistband of his boxers so you can slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along his pulsing crimson tip.

“Suck it, don’t tease,” he commands, his tone rigid and thick with desire. You comply without hesitation, eagerly licking off the subtle traces of his seed off the tip, twirling your tongue around it.

Your mouth is immediately slick with his precum, the thick fluid coating the corners of your lips. The heady scent drives you wild as you savour every drop of his essence. You keep using your tongue to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges and pressing into the squishy flesh of his head.

He bites down on his lips, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he battles to muffle his grunts, his body quivering with need.

When you finally close your lips around his painfully hard cock, he reacts with a sharp intake of breath. His fingers thread through your hair as he breathlessly whines your name like a fervent prayer. From that angle, his dimples appear as dark slits along his cheeks, adding to his rugged allure.

You meet his gaze with a sultry mewl of pleasure, giving your throat more room to take him in harder and deeper into your mouth. Flattening your tongue, you glide lower on him as you hold onto his pelvis until his head crushes the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex.

Challenge accepted; you handle him like a pro.

“Y/N, you’re… oh, fuck… No,” he sputters out with an intense shudder, rubbing his eyes as he fights the overwhelming tide of his impending orgasm.

“Load me,” you exhale teasingly as you pull him out of your mouth only to pump him back down with renewed hunger. He intertwines his fingers with yours, guiding your movements as you kick off a slow, torturous rhythmic ordeal just to gauge his reaction.

With a choked moan, he tightens his grip, sticking his convulsing cock all the way down with urgency, thrusting in your mouth with a ruthless pace.

His move and the resonance of his deep voice send a surge of heat to your core that consumes you, tripling the moisture in your panties.

You want him in ways that will add new sins to the bible.

Each time you rise, you suck his tip with fervour before slamming back down on his throbbing length. The symphony of moans he’s emitting are almost sinful—you’ve never gotten soaking wet just from hearing a man groan. He’s gonna be the death of your ovaries.

As you steal a gaze upwards, his abs glistening with a sheen of sweat, you watch his head fall back. “No,” he breathes out repetitively, his chest heaving and his Adam’s apple bobbing—a tell-tale sign that he’s on the brink of letting his load spray onto anything in the room.

His balls tighten, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turn sloppy and messy. Blinded by pleasure, his mind goes blank as he teeters on the edge.

Still panting, he hauls you off him more forcefully, his fingers hooking onto the hem of your stockings. You notice his nose scrunch up in clear disapproval as he glares at your lips—swollen and shining with wetness—immediately stripping you off your undergarments with raw intensity.

Flipping you over so your upper body’s bent over the wooden bench, he gropes your ass cheek before slapping it harshly, making you squeal with excitement. “Why do I have to say no twice?” he growls, his voice ringing with dominance as he claims you as his own.

You’re ovulating, so your audacity and inhibitions are thrown to the wind, acting like you’ve been dick-deprived your entire life. “I wanna tick you off so much you show no mercy. Just take me already,” you demand, your voice heavy with despair.

With a guttural groan, he obliges, rutting his hips as he lines up his leaking tip with your entrance. The moment he meets your wet folds, you both gasp in unison as he plunges in you. The sensation of him filling you up sparks fireworks as he humps you in long, steady thrusts, his velvet plush head bumping against your swollen clit with a delicious friction.

Your cries threaten to spill out, but his hand clamps gently over your mouth to shush you, his dark eyes flashing with warning. “We have to be quiet, baby,” he rasps, his voice tinged with lust. You turn over your shoulder and nod underneath his grasp, your half-lidded eyes glazing with pleasure.

A muffled yelp roars against his palm as he drills his aching cock deeper inside of you. You grip the edge of the bench tightly, and the sound of it banging against the wall echoes through the room, adding a primal rhythm to your ecstasy. The sensation of your slithery walls stretching to accommodate his thick dick is nothing short of mind-blowing for both of you.

Using the bench for leverage, he thrusts harder, his hand trailing up to caress the curve of your ribs as you writhe beneath him. “Fuck, I love your wet little pussy,” he hisses with primitive desire. “Cum for me, Y/N, all over my dick.”

“I’m getting there, baby. I wanna drown in your juices,” you moan, feeling his jaw slacken against your back as your walls pulse around his throbbing cock.

Just as the bench keeps bashing against the concrete wall in sync with your rising orgasms, a sudden crash breaks the intensity of the moment. The yellow paint plastic box from above the shelf tumbles down—its contents splattering over both of you and the wall, creating an impromptu abstract masterpiece in the spur of the moment.

You both freeze, paint trickling down your bodies, adding vibrant hues to your flushed skin. Evan blinks in surprise, his hands still gripping your hips as he takes in the colourful chaos engulfing you.

“Well, we certainly went hard on the paint,” he quips, trying to lighten the mood despite the unexpected interruption.

You chuckle nervously as you survey the lively mess. “Looks like we got more than we bargained for tonight,” you shoot back, your voice filled with playful mischief.

With a wicked smirk, Evan swipes paint off your cheek, leaving a colourful streak between you two as you embrace. “We’ve got a cleanup on our hands before we can get back to what we—” His words are abruptly cut off by approaching footsteps.

Though the intoxicating passion still clouds your mind, one detail arises with sobering clarity: You’re screwed (literally).

“You hit it off with the first three cubicles, I’ll handle the ones from the end, and we’ll meet in the middle,” a deep man’s voice echoes from outside, sending a jolt of panic through both of you.

Evan winces and involuntarily grabs your hand. Your body stiffens as you lace your clammy fingers with his, the paint already forming a small puddle at your feet.

Acting on pure instinct, he ushers you deeper into the toilet, using his foot to discreetly slide the torn condom wrapper closer to your hiding spot.

“What’s the plan now?” you mouth. Your palms are raised in a questioning gesture, fingers wiggling subtly, as your breath comes in shallow, shaky huffs.

Evan shrugs. “That was a plot twist, didn’t see it coming,” he replies, barely audible in his hushed response.

You hang onto his shirt for dear life, your face taking a ghost-like pale complexion as you weigh the consequences of the trouble you’re about to get in. “The door’s locked, but there’s a little slot under it. Shall I wait up here until they’re gone?” you pantomime your words, attempting to convey your plan to Evan with the finesse of a silent movie star. But as you try to hoist yourself up and chamber onto the toilet seat, you slip, almost tumbling backward.

Evan swoops in to catch you like a superhero, his forehead wrinkled by worry lines, eyes wide with alarm. “You good?” he whispers urgently, pressing a finger to his lips in a frantic plea for silence.

You nod vigorously, gesturing toward the door with exaggerated motions, communicating your escape plan like you’re on the charades: “Let’s go check if we’re clear, then sneak out.”

Nodding in silent agreement, he unlocks the door with a flick of his wrist. Poking his head out, he peers cautiously into the corridor. You stretch up on your tiptoes, craning your neck to peek out over his shoulder, scanning the corridor for any sign of movement.

Finding no one in sight, you both spring into action with the speed and stealth of seasoned spies. You snatch up as much toilet roll as you can, using it to hastily wipe away the evidence of your paint mishap. The paper becomes saturated with soap and water as you scrub your life away, determined to leave no trace behind.

Before you know it, Evan seizes your hand, purse and shoes, and you skitter out of the bathroom like you’re escaping a high-security prison. You zip past the slightly open doors of the other stalls, and as you weave the maze of hallways, you catch a glimpse of the two cleaning men hard at work—one wielding a toilet spray like a weapon on the lead, while the other, two doors ahead, diligently mops the floor.

You burst out of the bathroom, hearts racing and adrenaline pumping, feeling like you just pulled off the heist of the century. In the dimly lit corridor between the toilets and the restaurant, you exchange triumphant grins, basking in the rush of your daring gateway. With a quick, victorious high five, you’re both ready for the next phase of your adventure.

But before you can catch your breath, Evan pulls you close, his lips crashing against yours in a fiery kiss that sets you on fire. His tongue dances with yours, igniting a fierce passion between you. As his hands start to wander along your ass and clit, you can’t resist and melt into his touch, a soft moan slipping off you.

Reality hits you like a freight train, and you protest against his lips, reluctantly swatting his hands away and pushing him back gently. “You can’t waltz back to your table looking like nuggets dipped in mayo, and I don’t have a spare wardrobe stashed in my purse,” you whine. With a determined swipe, you rub off a scuff mark from his cheek, your thumb tracing the contours of his face as he nods in understanding.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, and without missing a beat, he takes your hand and leads you in the direction of the toilet. But as you reach the door, he steers you towards the emergency door instead. Throwing yourselves outside, you’re met with the frigid night air, an uninviting shock after the warmth of the restaurant.

The cold bites at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arms. But Evan is quick to replace your coat, which still hangs off your table chair, and envelops you in an embrace, rubbing your arms to warm you up.

You cling to him, his body heat a comforting embrace as he cups your hands in his, blowing warm breath into them. The moon casts a soft glow over a secluded pond before you, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the hotel.

“I’ve got good and bad news,” Evan chirps, his voice tinged with a mischievous undertone. You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as you lean closer to him, flakes of paint dropping off your arms as he intensifies his rubbing.

“Spill the good news first. Enough shocks for today, I wanna buy myself some time.”

“The good news is,” he begins, a grin spreading across his face, “my rented place is over there,” he reveals and points behind you. You follow his gaze to the tall complex of flats that extend from the main hotel.

You hum in acknowledgment, planting a quick peck on his lips. “Alright… and what’s the bad news?” you inquire, already bracing yourself for whatever curveball he’s about to throw your way.

“The bad news is that if we wanna keep the prying eyes at bay,” he continues, his eyes fixed on you in mounting suspense, “we’ve got some climbing to do.”

The grass crunches under your feet as you wade through the greenery, your heels sinking into the mud with each step. You duck under the low archway in the middle and reach the towering fence.

“Damn, that’s taller than I thought,” he mutters, eyeing the fence with a furrowed brow.

“Piece of cake,” you counter with a coy smile, tossing your heels on the other end. You make the first move by planting your toes on a cracked piece in the wall, gripping the hurdle tightly to propel yourself upwards.

As he gives you an extra push, his hands boldly grazing your ass, a mischievous sparkle gleams in his eyes. “Speaking of cakes,” he cheers, squeezing your curves as his eyes linger on the enticing view of your cunt beneath your dress, his grin broad and cocky.

“Stay focused, dude,” you hiss, playfully waving him away as you divert your attention back to the task at hand.

With a hint of concern in his voice, Evan watches you climb, ready to catch you if you falter. “Take it slow, Y/N. With this velocity, you gotta use one leg at a time...” he advises, his arms poised to assist you.

Rolling your eyes, you brush off his instruction. “The mansplaining’s redundant, Peters. I’ve got this,” you scold jokingly, confidently manoeuvring over the obstacles.

“It’s hard... oh, mind your head on the branches…” he mumbles, absentmindedly repeating “it’s hard” as he observes your every move with a mix of awe and disbelief.

When you safely tumble over to the other side, he can’t help but chuckle nervously, astonished by your agility. “Oh, that was easy…it was really easy, actually” he mumbles with a shake of his head, mouth agape, still processing your swift ascent.

“Come on, slowpoke,” you taunt, your voice laced with playful challenge. You dust off your hands, the thrill of the escape still coursing through your veins.

“I’m just taking my time,” he defends as he carefully navigates his way over the fence.

“Says the guy who played Quicksilver,” you mock, giggling, and run your tongue along your teeth with a cheeky smile.

As Evan finally makes it over the fence, he stumbles on a loose stone, his footing giving way beneath him. You gasp, lunging forward to catch him as he starts to fall backward, his arms flailing wildly as he tries to regain his balance.

“Watch out!” you cry out, and you manage to pull him back from the brink of spraining his ankle on the way down.

He winces in pain, clutching his leg as he tries to stand. “Ouch, that was close,” he groans, his breath hitched.

Concern floods through you as you help him to his feet, supporting him as he tests his injured ankle. “You okay?” you ask, worry evident in your voice.

Evan nods, his expression strained. “I think so,” he replies, clenching his jaw against the discomfort.

You sigh, realising that your adventure may have taken an unexpected turn. “Maybe we should take it easy for now, old man,” you suggest once you realise he’s fine, suppressing a laugh as you guide him back to safety.

As you playfully rib Evan with the “old man” label, he retaliates by tickling you, his fingers sending ripples of loud laughter down your spine. You squirm and wriggle, trying to escape his teasing grasp, but he’s relentless.

“Alright, alright, I give up!” you yell, breathless from both laughter and excitement. But Evan doesn’t stop there. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he picks you up into his arms, his lips hammering against yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue swirling with yours.

“Let me show you who’s the old man,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with desire and challenge as he carries you off.

The reception area lies deserted, and the dull glow of an overhead light seeps through the crack at the bottom of the slightly ajar cleaning storage door.

“Anyone here?” he calls out, testingly, but there’s no response. Without wasting any time, you make a beeline for the elevator. The ding of the lift makes you jump, you launch your bodies up the stairs, bounding them up like a panther on the prowl, your feet padding down on the carpeted floor.

You creep into his room, edging the door shut until the latch clicks into place, and you pause to laugh at the yellow patches on your body. “I feel like I’ve just wrestled a pig in a mud pit.”

“I’ve got the best way to clean it all up?” he mumbles sloppily into your lips, his arms folded around your waist, massaging your ass.

Hot water spurts out of the shower faucet, raining down marvellously on the tiled floor. You smile, holding your hand up to it and watching the paint, mostly dried now, run off your legs before landing on the ground and swirling around the drain. The temperature is heavenly, able to ease even the deepest aching of your shoulders, and your smile widens.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, planting a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone.

You bite down your lip at the sensation. “Finger-fuck while you kiss me, first. I need it,” you huff in despair, eyes imploring.

“You wish, I deliver, baby,” he breathes out, suckling on your pulse as you lightly pump his erect shaft in your hand in your fluid motion. He seems way too horny and too into you to say no.

He grunts and grounds his hips against your inner thigh. Against the wall, his fingers dip in, gathering some of your warm, slithery wetness and splotching it over your shiny folds. His free hand claws on your face, dragging you for a breathless kiss.

“Gosh,” you moan chokingly, an exhilarating lilt in your words. Your back arches as you feel that knot in your stomach beginning to snap. The pad of his middle finger keeps tapping and circling your clit, and you feel the escalating climb of your orgasm. Your legs start to twitch, and once he realises this, his fingers slowly drift away from your weeping cunt, his slick fingers gripping your thigh.

“Wh-why?” you protest in frustration.

Without uttering a single syllable, he snatches the detachable shower head, a smirk playing on his lips as he winds the cable around his wrist. He cranks the setting to its highest level and kneels down, parting your slopping folds with a confident touch. His lips curve in a devilish smile as he takes sight of your pulsating pussy clenching around nothing, giggling as he realises he’s edged you so badly.

As he positions the shower head near your throbbing clit, you instinctively clamp your hand over your mouth, stifling the shrill whimper that threatens to escape. The sensation of the water hitting your sensitive bud forces your breath out in punchy, laboured gasps as you feel the vibrations bringing your high closer.

He laps at your cunt like it’s a melting ice cream cone, and it doesn’t take long for your sweet cream to leak out along his mouth. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyelids fluttering as you’re consumed by the tsunami of your looming orgasm. Each flick of his tongue sends tremors through your thighs, the wet, slick sounds filling the room.

His tongue flattens out against your clit and you let out a needy whine, your hips instinctively bucking against his mouth. He presses his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue jerking at the underside of your clit. As he licks at your entrance, he sinks his tongue into your soaking hole, you cum on his tongue, grinding his face, moaning his name in heavy, ragged pants.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you, he stands up straight, his hands gently caressing your waistband in a soothing gesture. But you’re not done yet. With a hungry urgency, you pull him into a kiss, your lips melding together.

He backs you against the wall, hiking up your thighs and wrapping them tightly around his waist. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him to your dripping entrance. As he slams into you, the world around you fades away, and your head lolls back in ecstasy.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grunts as he pounds harsher and faster in you, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks.

Your slick is trickling down his cock, creating a slippery mess on his thighs as he drives into you relentlessly. His breathing picks up pace, the air thick with the heady scent of sex and steam. You almost had him, until his hands forces your hips down onto his cock as far as they would go, his tip nudging against your cervix.

A scream tears from your lips as you squirm against his ruthless assault and bruising force. The tip of his cock brushes against that spongy spot inside you time and time again, the lewd squelching sounds of your poor, swollen cunt only a faint indicator that you were close.

In the misty haze of the shower, you catch him smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual above him. Your tits bounce tantalisingly in front of him, a tempting feast he can’t resist as he reaches out to grab them in his mouth, eager to taste every inch of your trembling body.

As the unbearably tight, hot coil in your abdomen snaps, you’re unable to contain the set of moans that spill from your lips. A tingling heat spreads across your body, your muscles contracting and burning with the intensity of your release.

His face contorts in pleasure, his brows knitting together as his jaw drops in awe. His breaths come out in hurried, choppy huffs as he pumps inside you, warm, white strings of cum painting your walls as if he marks his territory and you as his own.

“Ugh, I’m dizzy...and l look like shit,” you huff out, your voice laced with giggles. Evan stays still for a moment, burying his face into the crook of you neck.

“You’re dizzy but beautiful,” he rasps, chuckling breathlessly, and you feel your cheeks flushing. He strokes your face, his touch tender and loving as he presses soft kisses against your lips. Your tongues dance together in a sweet and intimate exchange as soft moans escape both of you.

Slowly, he pulls out. A mix of your juices coats his tip as it drips from your hole in a seductive display of your shared ecstasy.

“I want cuddles on the bed now,” he says, his voice soft and pleading, a hint of a pout playing on his lips as he gazes at you with adoration.

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

Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

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writers-ex · 11 months

Text

i scream, you scream 🔪

ghostface!ryujin x fem!reader

warnings: trigger warning, phone sex, g!itzy, masturbation, horror themes, this isn't too accurate to the movies bc im too chicken to finish the first movie TwT, noncon

word count:847

kinktober ff, first attempting after a long time of writing, I’m not out of hiatus just yet but I wanted to have a part in this smut’s festivities xD enjoy besties

despite all the news and gossip from school your day was going surprisingly well, a bit too well making your stomach turn as you walked home. entering the door you began checking every lock and hole was closed tight before retiring into your living room waiting for your parents to return. mindlessly watching a tv show you get a text saying that their plans were taking longer than expected and assure you that they would be home before you went to school the following day. wrapping your arms around each other in an attempt to calm yourself down you decided the best place to be was room, turning off the tv you stand up to walk over when your phone begins to ring.

"unknown caller...maybe it's from their hotel room? they did mention that they would call to wish me goodnight?...hello? mom? dad?"

"scary night, isn't it?"

"huh?"

"being all alone at home must make you scared, perfect time to watch a scary movie wouldn't you agree?"

chills travel down your spine when you recognize the tone of his voice, chaeryeong had mentioned it one of the last times you spoke to her. it seemed to be just a rumor or tall tale to scare the freshman but now hearing it for yourself you felt your knees go weak.

"w-who is this?"

"i just wanna play a game." remembering the consequence of those who hung up on this ghostface killer you slowly make your way to your room and shut the blinds clutching your phone.

"a-and what happens if i refuse?"

"well i'll just tell everyone about how you masturbate every night to a certain female student~" your cheeks redden and breathing becomes short and shallow, wondering how they knew that detail your thoughts are cut off with their harsh words. "if you don't want this secret to get out or for me to come in, there's something i want you to do."

"wait you don't know-" a quick faraway knock on your front door makes your eyes widen and dart to the source of the noise. immobilized by fear you stay completely frozen in the center of your bed.

"you getting scared?"

"...n-no."

"then follow my rules and i'll let you off with a...warning." whimpering a response, the voice behind the phone chuckles and sighs contently. "all i want you to do is show me how you would get off with ryujin if she were there. let me hear every noise you make and don't hold back or else~" your brain and body still haven't comprehended the request leaving you quiet on the other side of the call, they get impatient and sigh. "here let me help a bit…” after a brief pause and muffled movements the other caller clears their throat. “hey doll~" snapping out of your trance you hear ryujin's voice and begin to tremble.

"ryujin? what are you doing with that psycho?? have they hurt you in anyway?"

"i'm ok doll, just a bit bruised but glad to hear your voice. although i was told to keep talking to you and you would do the rest?" remembering the request, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

a tear falls down your face as you spread your legs open sliding off your sweats and panties. trying to focus on ryujin and her voice you circle around your clit wishing it was her tongue slowly tasting you. opening your legs wider your fingers trace your inner thigh as the ryujin in your thoughts grips them open before eating you out. your fingers sliding in and out of you causes you to let out a breathy moan, ryujin's tone quickens making you finger yourself faster as your fantasy starts building up towards the climax.

your back slightly arched you move your other hand to play with your nipple making you grit your teeth to stop a loud moan from being heard by your crush when the phone call goes dead. unaware of the silence from the other side nor of your front door being picked and opened footsteps closer to your bedroom door.

"hey doll!" a tight knot in your stomach began to form when your eyes open to reveal ryujin hovering over you with a long black robe on. an evil sly grin written all over her face she gets on your bed and pins you against it. "i had to see this part for myself, i've always wanted to know what it felt like to make you feel as good as you sound some nights."

your mouth opens but words fail to come out as you watch ryujin strip bare with red stains splatter across her chest. her erection is clearly evident as it teases your entrance, gripping your wrists above your head she bends down and gives you a long hungry stare licking her lips as she takes the time to see each curve and bump on your body.

"from now on i promise you are not to be alone again. let me finish what we started on the call, be a dear and give me a loud scream won't you?"

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ronearoundblindly · 6 months

Note

For the dirty A-Z headcanon game can I get an A for Steve Rogers?

From this ask game, and I love you to the end of the line, anon, because this is pretty much THE one I wanted to answer...

A - Alone Time

How does he get off when all by himself?

Does he watch porn?

Is it all in his imagination?

Does he jerk off?

Does he use toys?

In case it wasn't obvious... MINORS DNI (vaguely coded to be gender neutral for the possibility of steve x reader or stucky or whatever your flavor)

Here we go, babes. I know I've written several different versions of Steve in various universes, but this is gonna be more generalized and not involve the very specific background experiences I've written into other things. This is just my good ol' fashioned headcanon of Steve masturbating!

This man takes his time--or at least would prefer to--even when it's just him. He will gently touch/play with himself for a while before grabbing his dick. Grazing his nails over his thighs. Pinching his nipples. I think this dude really has a thing with his throat? Like he thinks about teeth along his neck or being pulled forward by it and, yes, a squeeze or two. Don't flame me, I'm just saying!

He craves foreplay, is what I mean, and I don't think Steve feels fully aroused unless more than just his genitals are involved in the act, ya know?

He watches porn, but only for examples. There's a whole lot in modern pornography that is a huge turn-off for him. Steve uses certain imagery or sounds/sayings that he found in porn and kinda edits them together for his pleasure later--like mentally edits, lord knows, because that man would not get the hang of Final Cut Pro OR iMovie, feel me?--plus that way he can imagine a certain someone's voice actually saying those things to him or doing them to him.

Which brings us to Steve's imagination which is unbelievably vivid and runs rampant. Think about it: he's a strategist. He has to see tons of possible scenarios play out all at once, analyze where that leads and where that leaves him, and then plan to thwart or redirect all that happens into an ideal outcome. Don't tell me that artist does not have an incredible mind's eye.

Then we get to Steve finally touching himself expressly to come.

He's toyed with himself for a while, maybe gotten close but held back, probably enjoyed finding friction not with his fist. For some reason, I thoroughly believe he has a thing for fabrics? This guy enjoys the glide of silk and satin. I bet his sheets are nice and slick so he can thrust against them a little and think of a pretty skirt or a dressy, formal glove.

Actual toys? Like the kind advertised as sex toys? Like the kind he'd have to purchase with money in some capacity? No. I think shy Steve hasn't figured out a way to discreetly (and by that I mean, untraceably) do that. He refuses to use anything online attached to his name--credit card or secondary/digital wallet whatever--to buy something or to tell someone what he would want them to buy for him because then that person would know! He'd keel over from embarrassment right then and there!! ARE YOU INSANE?!?!

No. What Steve will do is get seemingly useful things for innocuous reasons and play dumb blond if anyone ever insinuates it could be a sex toy. That man can and will absolutely lie like a champ to keep those secrets. That man is a super soldier but his muscles still get sore; that's what the massager is for, not his taint, nuh-uh no how. How dare you ask him!

Which brings us to the climax: his climax.

Steve prefers to finish in the shower. He's spent all that time enjoying the feel of his hands or various textures, the dry (but not painful) drag of everything before the slick lubrication of lotion or conditioner creates a welcome high under the spray of water, and then, yes, he can clean himself right off afterward. Highly efficient. Also very effective at training his brain to get off quickly in a shower if necessary.

Strategy, you guys, it's all about strategy.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Are my answers to these like an audition for the Shameless Hoe Club? Maybe. Or maybe Ro has just lost the ability to filter herself...or care 🤭

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #stucky fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #ask game #steve rogers smut #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america smut

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thebisexualdogdad · 1 year

Note

fic where Maddy Perez falls for East highlands resident bad boy and they hook up after a group project

Maddy Perez x Male!reader

Maddy certainly wasn't the only person in school to have a thing for you, in fact you had already made your way through most of the cheerleading squad but unlike them Maddy refused to let you know she was insanely attracted to you.

"Looking good Perez, when are you going to let me take you out," you asked her one day in history class when she was wearing her cheer uniform for that night's football game.

"Never gonna happen Y/N," she said rolling her eyes but really she was imagining how good your head would look underneath her skirt.

Then there was that time at a party when you surprised everyone by actually showing up.

"What are you doing here? Don't you prefer getting drunk on cheap beer behind the liquor store," Maddy jokes, finding you in the kitchen as you start drinking some very expensive whisky directly from the bottle.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you," you say, offering her the whisky, "you look hot by the way."

Maddy quickly grabs the bottle and chugs some of it hoping to hide the blush forming on her cheeks, "too bad I'm not interested in letting you get in my pants but I'm sure you'll find someone else to get lucky with."

"You're breaking my heart Perez," you say playfully.

"Didn't know you had one," she cracks.

"If you ever let me take you out on that date you'd see there's more to me than just being a devilishly handsome bad boy," you say leaning in close to her.

Maddy gulps, taking another swig of whisky to stop herself from fucking you right there on that counter.

You and Maddy continued this game until you eventually got partnered up for a history project.

How the hell was she going to retain her self control and not jump your bones when you were going to be spending so much time together alone in her bedroom.

Well technically you could have done this project at the library but Maddy was horny and thinking with her pussy, not her brain.

So here you are, in her room on day three of working on your project with Maddy looking at you like a four course meal after you drove her home on your motorcycle.

Her body was still humming from the vibrations and holding onto you so tightly.

"Maddy? Earth to Maddy," you laugh, snapping her out of her trance, "I think we've got enough research notes to start working on the essay."

"Yeah, right, let me get my laptop," she says, taking a seat at her desk and turning her laptop on.

You grab the small ottoman she uses at her vanity mirror and take a seat next to her, a little too close for Maddy to stay focused on the essay.

"You want me to type? You seem to be making a lot of typos there Perez," you laugh.

Maddy pushes the laptop in front of you and stands from her chair, "I need some water do you want anything?"

"Vodka would be nice," you grin.

"I'll get you a soda," she says before leaving her bedroom.

When she returns her glass of water is nearly empty from her trying to cool herself down and she hands you the soda.

You crack it open and take a drink, setting it on the desk as you keep working.

"Can you hand me the textbook, there's something I want to look up," you ask a few minutes later and when she grabs the book she knocks your dark soda over and it spills right onto your white shirt.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry," she says running to her bathroom to grab a towel to clean up her desk.

But when she steps out of her bathroom you're standing there shirtless.

"Mind if I wash this in your sink? Its sticky and I don't want it to stain," You ask.

"Uh, yeah, yeah that's fine," she says, glazing over your abs as you walk past her to her bathroom.

She cleans up the soda and hears the water running in the bathroom, she has to get it together.

She sits on the edge of her bed and puts her head in her hands, how the hell did you have this much of an affect on her.

"Hey it's okay, it's just a shirt," you chuckle when you come back into her room.

You left your shirt hanging in the bathroom to dry and now there's some stray water droplets running down your stomach.

Fuck.

You walk over to her and Maddy can't fight the urges anymore, her hands go to your neck and she pulls you down into an intense kiss.

"Woah, Maddy," you say in surprise, pulling away from her.

"You've been hitting on me since the sixth grade, you really don't want this?" She scoffs.

"I want this more than you know, I just want to make sure you want this," you say.

"I want this Y/N, I really want this," she says bringing you back in for another kiss.

You sink down to your knees in front of her, kissing down her neck and playing with the hem of her shirt.

"Take it off," she orders and in seconds her shirt is gone.

You keep kissing down her body until you reach the top of her jeans.

You look up at her and she nods her consent before raising her hips in the air so you could tug her jeans down her legs.

"God you're beautiful Maddy," you say, kissing along her thighs, "and so wet already."

"I hate that you turn me on this much," she groans right as your tongue licks her through her panties.

"If you want me to stop just tell me to," you say.

"Don't you fucking dare stop," she says sternly and you smile, pulling her panties to the side and tasting her directly.

You moan and Maddy feels it deep in the pit of her stomach, your tongue working her in ways no other guy ever had before.

One her of legs goes over your shoulder, giving you better access.

Her arousal drips down your chin and you slip a finger inside with ease, Maddy moaning above you.

A second finger enters her and you pump them slowly, using your other hand to pull the hood of her clit back and suck it between your lips.

"Holy shit," Maddy cries out, she had been holding this in for so long she can't even feel embarrassed about how quickly she came because it felt so fucking good.

"Damn Perez, I wasn't even down there for a full five minutes," you say cockily.

"Shut up and fuck me Y/N," she demands and you happily stand up, dropping your jeans to reveal the massive boner poking through your boxers.

"You got any condoms?" You ask, stroking yourself through your boxers which only turns her on more.

"Top left drawer in my bathroom," she says.

You go to her bathroom again and find the box of condoms, grabbing one and when you return her bra and panties are gone, leaving her completely naked and now in the center of her bed.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" You say, letting your boxers join the rest of your clothes on the floor and putting the condom on.

"Didn't I tell you to fuck me already?" Maddy states and you smirk, joining her in bed.

You settle on top of her, kissing her and she moans at the taste of herself on your tongue.

Reaching down you tease her with the tip of your cock, lathering it with her arousal before easing it inside.

Maddy clearly doesn't want to wait any longer so you quickly rock your hips in a steady rhythm.

Her nails dig into your back, her bed creaking underneath you.

You suck harshly at her neck, one of your hands going to play with her chest.

Maddy moans loudly when you roll one of her nipples between your fingers, legs wrapping around your waist so you can hit deeper inside her.

"Oh fuck me, right there, right there," she chants.

Once again it doesn't take long for her to cum, this one hitting her even harder than the first.

"Do you want me to pull out?" You ask her, slowing your movements giving her a few aftershocks.

"No, keep going until you cum," she says, grabbing your ass.

You smirk and pick your pace back up, she's squeezing your ass and within another minute you're cumming inside her.

"Fuck Maddy," you grunt, your hips moving more frantically through your release.

"That felt so fucking good," she says, groaning when you pull out of her and feeling so empty.

You roll over next to her, taking the condom off and throwing it in the trash next to her bed.

"So does this mean you're finally gonna let me take you on a date?" You tease.

"I'll tell you what Y/N, if we get an A on this project, I'll go on a date with you," she replies.

"You got yourself a deal," you smile, "now let's get back to work, we have an essay to write."

"Have you ever worked this hard on an assignment before?" She jokes.

"Nope but sex is an excellent motivation and it'll be even better at the end of it because I'm going to take you on the best date of your life."

#euphoria imagine #maddy perez imagine #maddy perez x reader #x male reader #fic

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ladykailitha · 4 days

Text

Eddie and Nancy

Just giving my brain a break from the Secret Tunnel (aka the game show) story. I still have two chapters to get through and my brain needs a cool down.

I've seen a lot of headcanons that Eddie is the Wheeler children's older half brother because of how much they look like each other.

But may I propose instead: cousins.

Hear me out.

You have first born, Elizabeth. Absolute hippie child. All about that free love, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. She learns how to play guitar, falls in with the charming and cool, Al Munson. They plan to tour the country his beat up old truck. But before that can happen, Elizabeth gets pregnant with Eddie. So she marries Al.

Then you have Karen, the younger sister. Bright, demure, absolute golden child. She dyes her hair and blows out the curls to more like waves so she doesn't look like Elizabeth anymore.

She does what she was raised her whole life to do. Get married to a good boy so they can have good children and pay taxes and never do anything fun.

When Elizabeth dies, Karen refuses to go to the funeral, hates that her name is even in the obituary at all. Then three years later when Al is sent to prison, CPS calls her first.

She's the boy's aunt. She has a comfortable home, and bringing him in would barely dent their finances. But Karen refuses. She won't have that delinquent anywhere near her children.

So they go to Wayne. Wayne who really doesn't have the space or the money to take care a little boy almost teenager. But he looks into those big brown eyes and can't say no.

They keep apart until the murders in town start in Wayne's own god damn trailer. He keeps his mouth shut when Nancy comes up to him asking about Eddie. He would like to throw it in her face that he knows who she is and that he knows full well that Karen would throw a fucking fit if she found out where her daughter was. But he won't. It's not the girl's fault her mother is a bitch.

After Vecna (and Eddie NOT dying) Nancy is sent to the attic to see if she can find some of Mike's old things to donate as a lot of Nancy's went to Holly. She finds an old trunk and though locked it comes apart in her hands. In it she finds dozens of pictures of her mom with beautiful girl with flying dark brown curls and sparkling eyes.

She smiles as she reminds her of Eddie.

Her mother calls out for her to hurry and slips one of the pictures in her back jeans pocket. Nancy closes the trunk and hurries back to her mother.

Then because Nancy can't leave a mystery well enough alone, she goes digging. All while Eddie and Max are in a coma, Nancy works on her mystery.

She finds her answer in the most unlikely of places. Joyce Byers's year book. She had it out showing her boys the outrageous hair styles they had in her day.

There two rows down from Lawrence Byers is an Elizabeth Childress. She's got ribbons in her hair and smiling brightly at camera. So full of life.

Childress.

She closes her eyes. There is no doubt this is her mother's sister. A sister Nancy never knew anything about.

She points her out to Joyce. "Oh, I remember her. Such a sweet girl. It's really too bad she fell in with that Munson boy. Or rather the wrong Munson boy."

She flips the pages and on the same row as her, is Wayne Munson staring up at her. So happy and free. The Vietnam would too soon take that from him. "That's Wayne. Such a good boy. Elizabeth would have thrived with him. But Wayne was shy and more interested in getting good grades than girls."

Joyce flips back to the seniors with Jim and Lonnie and began searching for the M's. "There." She pointed at another boy. Alan Munson. "He was trouble from the moment he was born. But he had a motorcycle and a leather jacket. Lizzy fell hard. They got married right out of high school, I heard."

Jonathan and Nancy share a look of shock.

"What happened to her?" Jonathan asks.

"Cancer," Joyce says sadly, "poor thing."

Armed with her knowledge and a borrowed yearbook, Nancy marches right up to her mother and slams the yearbook in front of her. The picture Nancy took from the attic serves as bookmark and she shoves both at her mother.

There is no denying it now. All the proof is right there in black and white.

"This is why you didn't want to join the D&D club my freshman year, isn't it? Because it was Eddie's club?"

Karen buries her head in her hands. And the truth just starts spilling out.

"And that boy is just like his father!" Karen cries. "He might have not have killed those kids but he was a drug dealer."

"To keep the lights on his trailer!" Nancy yells back. "If you and Dad had taken him in maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. Maybe he be a better person."

"Or maybe he would have dragged you other children with him!"

"If you really thought that Mike wouldn't have been allow in Hellfire either!"

It's at this point Mike walks in and suddenly Karen is caught.

She breaks down and explains that Eddie had helped her with her car right before Mike started high school. So as a way to return the favor she let Mike join.

Nancy heads to the hospital and manages to get into see Eddie.

Wayne tells her only family is allowed to see him and Nancy smiles.

She knows.

Then Eddie wakes up, falls for Steve, the whole party teases Steve about keeping it in the family and Karen gets her head out of her ass and everyone lives happily ever after.

The end.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #new headcanon #mike wheeler #karen wheeler #elizabeth munson #wayne munson #al munson

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twinksrepository · 3 months

Text

A villainous Kiss

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Mammon X GN!Reader

CW: Kisses, Implied sexy times

Word count: Roughly .6K

A/N: You find Mammon rather attractive in his new look, and get him alone to tell him just how much. Yea, I don't think this Obey me thing in my brain is going away any time soon. Sorry to the regulars of the fandom, I just hope you enjoy my ramblings. Images belong to Solmare.

Blinking as the light from the box fades you look around the room and can’t help the grin on your face at the new outfits everyone is in from growing to the point of pain. Your cheeks burning from the wide smile that is all teeth at this point. Once more a relic of the Devildom has provided everyone with a different outfit, and your eyes keep falling back to Mammon.

He really does look like a villain with the thick white fur and the gems embedded in the fur lining. While everyone talks about the now decided teams you wink at the white haired demon who gets to be the leader of the villains, enjoying a faint blush breaking out across his cheeks, at least before the others start to tease him about his intelligence again.

When no one is looking you mouth how you’ll see him in a little bit before you’re pulled into the conversations going on around you by Asmo. Well, more pulled into talking about how cute Asmo is in his new outfit.

Later when everyone heads off to do their own thing you casually wink at Mammon to make sure he remembers your attempt to get his attention from earlier. Giving your hips a wiggle after walking past him and then slipping away down a hallway positive he’ll follow after you.

Tapping your fingers against the wall as you wait, smirking at the sound of footsteps you know match the avatar of greeds’. “Hey hey hey, it seemed as if you were trying to get my attention earlier.”

“Was I? Didn’t seem like that to me.” Tilting your head as he moves closer, leaving just enough space that either one of you could casually lift your hand and touch the other.

“Ya think you’re funny?” Smirking a little more as he leans closer to your face you feel the moisture from his exhale against your skin.

“Of course I am.” Placing both of your palms against his abdomen before sliding them upwards, feeling the stitching of the golden pattern etched into his new waistcoat. “You look really handsome in this.”

“Oh? Does my human like this?” His hands are on your sides slowly moving upwards closer to your ribs.

“I do.” Ghosting your fingers higher before curling them into the fur of the coat near one of the gems in the thick fabric. “I hope you get to keep this one after we do this little show.” You laugh softly before licking your lips with a devilish smile, using the collar to tug him forward and close the distance to give him a kiss.

Mammon lets out a soft moan before pulling back but not without pressing his forehead to yours. “I could use a few more dozen of those.”

“A few dozen?” The joy in your voice is clear as you question him, loosening your grip on the luxurious fur to slip your fingers inside against the warmth of his neck, hooking one into the black band that reminds you of a small collar.

“I am greedy.” It’s all he says before closing the distance for a longer deeper kiss. One that you let him control as he lives up to his title, and leaves your chest heaving with burning lungs from the lack of oxygen as he refuses to part from you.

At some point, the two of you make your way back to the house of lamentation and Mammon cashes in on those dozen of kisses. Well, it’s a lot more than a paltry dozen. Some on your lips, others on the skin of your neck, your brow, your chest, and your arms, anywhere he can find bare skin as he slowly strips you of your outfit while you do the same to hi. Either way, you find a good use for that fancy cloak and can’t look at it the same the next day when you return to RAD to figure out a game plan for the script.

#obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #obey me main character #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #obey me nightbringer fanfic #obey me nightbringer #mammon obey me #om! mammon #mammon x you #twink writes

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apomaro-mellow · 2 months

Text

King and Prince 25

Part 24

Steve read and re-read the letter over and over. He’d been awake for a couple of hours and had yet to leave his room. Sometimes he paced about the floor, letter in hand, eyes glued to the page. Other times he fell against the bed, Eddie’s words pressed to his chest as if that could calm the pounding that threatened to overwhelm him. Steve rubbed his cheeks, starting to get sore from his smile.

Eddie seemed genuine. The letter was full of his intent to court him officially. The idea warmed his entire body. It was nice to be kissed and told sweet things in fleeting moments leading to a coupling. But to have this - someone saying with no uncertainty that they had their sights set on you. And the implication of the end of the road leading to an altar. Royalty didn’t play games of love like this.

If all Eddie wanted was his physical affection, he wouldn’t be going to all this trouble. For a moment, Steve wondered if he would have allowed that. If Eddie had made a few simple, yet flirtatious remarks, a few suggestive gestures before leading him to a private alcove…

Steve let out a breath and tugged at his collar. The idea was alluring and Steve couldn’t say for sure that it wouldn’t happen. But he was glad he had this, this letter in his hand. It told him that Eddie wanted more and saw him as more.

He searched for writing materials. It was only proper to reply with a letter of his own. Usually one had more time to answer an invitation to courtship but there was no reason to wait in this instance.

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

Eddie watched on as El lifted a mound of clay. It floated in the air right before her, just a shapeless lump.

“Good, now imagine your hands shaping it. Any form that you want, just picture your own fingers doing it”, Eddie said.

Something poked the clay from one spot, and then another. El’s brow furrowed as she tried to mold it. Eddie observed, expression neutral. Suddenly, El dropped the clay onto the table with a splat and frowned at him.

“I can’t do it.”

“What were you trying to make?”, he asked.

“...Something?”

“Well, there you go. You need to have a solid image in your mind.”

“Am I interrupting?”, Steve asked, poking his head into the art room.

“No”, Eddie smiled. “We were just about to take a break. El, go and rest your brain.”

She scurried off, already looking lighter than air as she walked out, leaving them alone. Eddie took in Steve. He was wearing yellow today, with accents of orange. His hands were behind his back as he stepped into the art room. Eddie swallowed a little when he realized Steve must be here to give his reply. Suddenly his hands got sweaty and he put them behind his own back to hide the fact.

“Did you-”, he paused to clear his throat but ended up coughing, bending over a little in effort and then tried to brush it off by leaning against the table. “Did you receive my letter?”

“I did”, Steve said, a coy smile on his face. “You do know that for a real, true, legitimate courtship you are required to approach my father for permission?”

Eddie couldn’t help the sneer that came upon his face. “The day I ask that man for permission for anything is the day the world breaks in two.” His arms had crossed but he uncrossed them and stopped leaning on the table, standing up straight as he looked Steve in the eye. “I care only for what you say.”

“...What if I were to refuse you?”, Steve asked, curious.

Eddie looked torn for a moment. “Then I…I would…if my feelings are not reciprocated, I would respect your decision.”

“Even if that decision was to marry Jason Carver?” When Steve asked that, he didn’t miss the way Eddie’s fist clenched before hiding it behind his back.

“Even then.”

“Even if I wished to be given a horse, some coin, and to be let loose on my way to forge my own path?”

Eddie’s eyebrow raised. “As a commoner?”

“As a commoner”, Steve nodded.

“Then you’d have a horse. And any amount of money that you would find respectable.”

“You would let me go that easily?”

“Who said it would be easy?”, Eddie breathed out. “I would let you go but I would think of you everyday after. You may leave this place but you have taken up permanent residence in my mind.”

“You’d still think of me?” Steve found that hard to believe. As a ruler, Eddie surely had more important things to keep him occupied. He might think of Steve for a time, but not for long.

“You would be in the face of every flower I see. I’d hear you in Dustin’s laughter, see you in the way Robin smirks. You’d be everywhere, even if you’re nowhere.”

Steve revealed his hand and held out a sealed envelope. Eddie took it, hands trembling only a little. He looked into Steve’s eyes, his own full of hope and asking for the allowance to open it right away. Steve nodded.

To the King who has opened up his home to me,

Please do not misunderstand the shortness of the letter as a lackadaisical approach to romance. And I beg you to excuse the theft of your own words. I am not adept when putting a pen to paper. But I too, feel as if I could speak on you for pages and pages. That is to say, I humbly accept your offer. And I look forward to seeing what sort of romance you believe I am suited for.

Sincerely and with great hope,

Prince Steven

Steve waited with bated breath for Eddie to finish. It took longer than he had expected but that was simply because Eddie kept going over different parts of the letter in disbelief. Finally, he looked away from Steve’s writing.

“You realize what this means?”

That Steve was putting his heart in his hands, that he might face obstacles as an enemy courting the attentions of a king, that one day he may need to answer to his parents for his decisions, that-

“You and I will be needing a chaperone from now on”, Eddie said, interrupting Steve’s thoughts. “It’s no longer proper for us to be on our own.”

Steve blinked, realizing he was right and that they were alone right now. Most indecent for two people who were starting a romantic exchange, not yet married. Nothing to witness except for the easels, paints, and other art materials in the room. Steve grinned, pushing some hair behind his ear.

“And just what are you expecting we’d get up to all alone?”

“I-”

A trio of footsteps saved Eddie from answering as he was sure to stutter through a reply. El returned, Will and Max in tow. Will, ever the sensitive one, felt that they had interrupted something and gave them both quick glances. Max, also sensitive but less considerate about it, just brushed past them, going right to her own station where a mound of clay was waiting.

“Are you ready to start back up again?”, El asked, looking between Eddie and Steve.

“Uhhhh…”

“He’s ready for you”, Steve answered in his stead. “He and I will be seeing each other later.”

Steve walked out, brain working overtime to take in everything that had just happened. Eddie’s body language and the way his voice sounded. He had looked, nervous, for lack of a better word. It was the perfect word for it but still Steve was hesitant to use it towards himself. It surprised Steve at first. Why should Eddie feel nervous? But then when he understood it, he found it endearing. When a king set his sights on someone, it was considered a done deal. Who would deny a king? But Eddie was treating the situation like there was a chance Steve might say ‘no’. Like he really cared and would put forth the effort for him.

Better than floating on clouds, or being swept away by a current, for the first time in a long while, Steve felt like he had two feet on solid ground.

Part 26

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#apo writes #stranger things #steddie

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lendeah · 9 months

Text

My first fanfic post! Hope you enjoy it, and feel free to share any requests💌

THE GRAVE SCENE™️

Summary: You know the summary😈 A reimagining of the infamous grave scene.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: + 18, NSFW, dom!Astarion

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

The morning after the battle with Cazador, the heaviness in my limbs felt like weights, my muscles aching and sore from the physical exertion of the fight. But it was the weight on my heart that was truly crushing, each beat feeling like a burden too heavy to bear. Astarion wasn't in the camp, as he had rushed out after killing his former master, needing to be alone to process the turmoil within him. The image of his primal screams as he repeatedly buried the blade into Cazador's chest was burned into my brain, haunting me with every breath. As I watched helplessly with my companions, Astarion was torn apart piece by piece, both physically and emotionally. I knew that sound would haunt me in my worst nightmares for years to come.

At that moment, my fingers longed to reach out and comfort him, but deep down I knew it would be more for my own benefit than his. So I remained still, my hand held tightly by Shadowheart's as I had to witness to the man I loved being ripped appart. I didn't shed a tear when Astarion screamed at me in rage and pain, didn't cry when he refused to come back to camp that night. But as soon as the moon rose high in the sky and everyone else fell asleep with somber looks in their eyes, I allowed myself to finally break down.

I sobbed and screamed into my pillow, releasing all of the pent-up emotions that threatened to consume me. My heart felt heavy with grief and guilt. I had been so caught up in trying to protect everyone and defeating Cazador, as well as our other enemies that I didn't realize how much Astarion was struggling with his past. I should have paid more attention, should have reached out to him sooner. His hunger for power was no secret to me, but as he begged and cried in front of me, I almost caved. Even though I stood by my decision of not helping him ascend, a part of me felt guilty for taking the choice away from him, much like how Cazador had done.

The sun had long since set and another day had passed, but still I remained in bed, cocooned in my sheets with only the sound of my own sobs to keep me company. The weight of the world seemed to press down on me as I lay there, until with a heavy sigh, I finally mustered the strength to sit up. With trembling hands, I wiped away my tears. It was time to face Astarion, to offer him whatever comfort and support he needed. Even if it meant braving his anger or facing his rejection.

The darkness of the night surrounds me as I step out of my tent, the moon casting a pale light across the campsite. I can see Astarion's tent in the distance, a small flicker of light coming from inside. The only sound is the soft crunching of leaves and twigs under my feet as I make my way across the place. My hands tremble slightly as I reach out to pull back the flap of Astarion's tent. When I take my first step inside, I notice it is lit by a single flickering lantern, casting shadows on the canvas walls. The dim light revealed the scattered remnants of broken objects, and in the center of it all, I can see Astarion sitting cross-legged on a bedroll, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

At first, I think he hasn't noticed me, but then he turns to me with a wistful expression "I should probably start getting used to the shadows again. Who knows how long I have left in the sun?" He says, his voice rough. The thought tightens my chest and I resist the urge to reach out and hold him

"Don't say that" I reply softly "we could still find a way to control the tadpole."

I take a seat beside him on the bedroll, being careful not to startle him.

"Maybe, but even if I could control it, it's a dangerous game. I'd spend every day waiting for something to go wrong." He says, his eyes filled with sorrow. "For the tadpole to find some new trick, reassert itself, and make me a slave again. Maybe never seeing the sun again is just the price of freedom." he finishes, his voice cracking with emotion. Seeing him so broken shatters my heart into a million pieces.

"I'll be with you either way." I reach out slowly, my fingers trembling as I grasp his hands, trying to convey my feelings through touch. "I hope you know that," I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.

He looks at me, his face softening as he takes in my expression. His guarded walls seem to crumble, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.

"I think I do." He says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth ",assuming we survive, of course. Because a horrible death is always just around the corner with you." His lips curl up into a mischievous smile and his eyes sparkle with amusement. I can't help but grin back at him. His hand gently squeezes mine, sending a reassuring warmth through my fingers. We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company.

But then, his face takes on a more serious tone. "There's... something I'd like to show you, if that's all right? Something out in the city."

I frown "What is it?"

"Something I haven't shown anyone else." he says with a shy secretive smile.

"Oh, how mysterious" I reply teasingly "Fine, I'll come," I say, making sure to play up my casual indifference.

We step out of the tent and into the night, as he silently takes me along the city, and I let myself be guided into the dark streets of Baldur's Gate. The city is alive, even though it's around midnight, streets buzzling with the sounds of merchants haggling, people drinking, and horses trotting. It's a stark contrast to the darkness and sadness that had filled the tent just moments ago.

He takes me through narrow alleyways and side streets, navigating through the crowds with ease, as if he has made this way many times before. Finally, we come to a halt in front of the metal fence doors of a... Cemetery?

His usual playful demeanor is gone. I can feel the weight of each step, every breath I take as I follow him deeper into the eerie silence of the place. The moonlight casts a ghostly glow upon the rows of tombstones, echoing through the stillness of the night. The graveyard is appropriately silent - there isn't a proverbial soul around.

I raise an eyebrow, looking at Astarion with confusion and skepticism "A little stereotypical, don't you think?" I joke, breaking the silence.

"Perhaps, but some things are classics for a reason." he replies.

As we walk through the space between graves, I can feel the weight of death around us. We stop in front of a worn tombstone, looking really neglected. My heart drops, as I comprehend the reason why we are here. I watch Astarion as he kneels down and wipes away the layers of dust and dirt, revealing the name more clearly. Astarion Ancunín.

"Nearly two hundred years and I never came back." he says, his voice heavy with emotion. "Not since the night I woke up down there. I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was waiting. From that day on I was his." His face contorts as he recalls the memory. "Until today." He ends, in a whisper.

I slowly place a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some sort of comfort. "You were never his. Whatever he had, he took it by force" I say, looking deep into his red eyes.

"Maybe, but he did take it. There is almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock" He adds with sorrow. "For nearly two centuries I stalked the Streets like a ghost while the person I was lays here, dead and buried. Now I need to figure out who I am, what I want." A small smile plays on his lips as he meets my gaze, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"And, what do you want?" I ask, my heart fluttering with excitement.

He stays silent for a few seconds, and then

"You... I want you." he finally confesses, his voice raw with vulnerability. Another moment of silence follows "You were by my side through all of this. Through and pain and missery. You were patient. You cared. You trusted me when that an objectively stupid thing to do." He pauses, swallowing hard before continuing. "I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."

My chest constricts at his words, my eyes watering a little. I had always felt a strong connection with Astarion, but hearing him express his feelings so openly and honestly makes my heart swell. Astarion's face is illuminated by the moonlight, his red eyes sparkling with emotion and his lips turned up in a small smile.

"You won 't." I whisper, my voice laced with determination. "Whatever comes next, I've got you." I say, as my hand reaches out to cup Astarion's cheek, feeling the soft edges of his skin.

"Thank you" he says softly, and after a beat, he looks at the gravestone again "Well, I should probably fix this"

The metal glints in the moonlight as he carefully carves a new date on the stone, marking the beginning of a new chapter in his life. Astarion kneels over the damp, musty earth, his eyes focused on the gravestone in front of him. The moonlight casts a soft glow on his face, emphasizing the lines of determination and sorrow etched into his features. As the vampire gets silently lost in his thoughts, I am struck with an idea, a simple yet touching gesture. I search around until I find what I'm looking for, and I pick a small flower from the ground. I slowly kneel next to him, and place it gently on the grave, adding a splash of color to the otherwise shadowy scene.

A small smile spreads across his face when he notices, "Cute" he says, the word rolling off his tongue like a caress. With a sigh, he follows "I've been dead on the ground for long enough. It's time to try living again" He turns his body to me, reaching for my hands and holding them tightly in his. "With everything that life has to offer"

My heart stutters at the implication of his words.

"Meaning...?" I ask, trying to sound coy. A mischievous smirk plays on his lips as he leans in closer and whispers,

"If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded" His words send shivers down my spine, and I laugh, feeling a surge of desire mixed with anticipation.

"Sounds good to me" I whisper back, my voice filled with playful allure.

He brings a hand to my cheek, stroking it lightly, "You know, I didn't care for you when we first met. But I do now. Being with you is about more than lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance." He pauses, steady gaze locked onto mine. "I love you." he breathes "I love this. And I want it all"

My heart is about to burst out of my chest, tears threatening to flow out of my eyes. There is only one thing I want in that moment, as I lean in slowly, my lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

"I love you too" I confess against his mouth. The moon shines down on us as Astarion's lips press against mine. It is a gentle kiss, filled with love and longing. I reach back, running my fingers through his white strands. My heart swells with emotion as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. Astarion's hands move down to my waist, pulling me even closer as our bodies melt together in the cool night air.

Our kiss intensifies, becoming more passionate and urgent. Astarion's tongue dances with mine, exploring every inch of my mouth. I moan into the kiss, feeling pure pleasure coursing through my body. Then, he lays back for a moment, and looks at me with a fire in his eyes I have never seen before. With a wicked smile, he pushes me down onto the dirt of his own grave, and my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His red orbs flash with raw desire as he hovers above me. Astarion's lips descend upon mine again, my fingers finding their way into his curls again, his skin warm against my own.

The moon casts its silvery glow over us, illuminating our passion in the eerie quiet of the cemetery. Every sensation heightened, every touch more intimate, as we surrendered to the ecstasy of the night.

As Astarion's lips trail down my neck, and I shiver with desire, my heart pounding erratically. He kisses my neck, my collarbone, my chest - wherever he can reach, with slow, deliberate moves. He slowly pulls away, staring into my eyes with a fierce intensity, as his hand trails down my cheek, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. Suddenly, I am aware of how long it has been since our last encounter, when he asked me to keep things non-sexual for some time.

"Are you sure about this?" I whisper , concern lacing my words "We don't have to rush it if you are still not ready".

His eyes darken at my words.

"I'm more sure than ever," he replies, voice barely above a breath. With that, he leans in again, his lips crashing into mine. I can feel the urgency in it, the hunger that courses his body as he claims me.

With nimble fingers, Astarion swiftly undresses me as if it were an art form. My heart races with anticipation as his eyes drink in every inch of me.

He lowers his lips to my neck, trailing soft kisses down my throat to my collarbone. I tangle my fingers in his hair, silently begging for more. But instead of his usual fangs piercing my skin in hunger, he showers me with gentle kisses, each one making me shudder. My skin prickles with goosebumps as Astarion's fingertips trace over every inch of my exposed flesh, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me.

Astarion's lips trail down my chest, his hands exploring every curve and dip of my body. I can't hold back the moans that escape my lips as he kisses and nips at every sensitive spot he finds. He looks up at me from the spot between my legs, and I swear it's the most sensual sight I've seen in my life: his lips swollen and glistening with the taste of mine, his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed with passion.

"My god, you are breathtaking" I say under my breath.

He chuckles, warm breath brushing against my inner thighs. "I'm well aware".

And then he dives in. His tongue darts out to taste me, lingering on my most sensitive spots, swirling and teasing me to the point of insanity. I arch my back, trying to push deeper into his mouth as the pleasure builds, my heart pounding in my chest. I moan his name, the sound lost in the cemetery's silence. My body trembles with the pleasure, my muscles tensing and then relaxing, over and over again. I can feel Astarion's hands on my thighs, his fingers slowly massaging the insides of my legs.

"Astarion," I breathe, my voice barely audible over my own gasps and moans. "I need more."

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with passion and hunger. His lips curl into a smirk.

"How do we ask?" he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

With a wicked grin, Astarion lowers his head again, his lips brushing against me, tasting me, teasing me. I shiver with anticipation, my body responding to his every touch. I grip the dirt beneath me, as my heart pounds hard in my chest.

"P-please" I cry out.

Astarion's lips curve into a smirk at my plea, his fingers trailing down my thighs as he continues to kiss and nip at my skin, but not where I want him most. "Please what, my dear?" he asks in a low voice, his breath hot against my skin.

I bite my lip, trying to catch my breath as I struggle to form coherent words. "I...I want..." I stammer.

And then, he thrusts two fingers inside me. I cry out, my body jerking in response. Astarion's fingers move in and out of me, his thumb pressing against my clit in a slow, rhythmic motion.

"You meant this, right?" He asks, his voice low and husky. I can only bring my hands to his hair and give it a sharp tug in response. At this, Astarion lets out a low groan, his mouth working harder. His fingers continue to move inside me, his pace increasing as my body responds to his touch. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, my mind consumed with nothing but pleasure.

I arch my back, pressing myself against him, wanting more of him. Astarion's free hand moves up to cup my breast, teasingly pulling at my nipple and squeezing it as he continues to thrust his fingers inside of me. The combination of sensations is almost too much for me to handle, my head going dizzy and vision blurry. I can feel him everywhere.

"Please," I beg again, my voice hoarse with desire.

Astarion pulls his fingers out of me and I whimper at the loss of contact. But before I can protest, he guides me into a sitting position and kneels in front of me, slowly getting out of his clothes. I take my time to admire his lithe body, the planes of the muscles decorating his chest and stomach. He gazes up at me with darkening eyes before leaning in to kiss me passionately.

His hands roam over my body while our tongues dance together in a heated frenzy. I can taste myself on his lips and it only adds to the intensity of the moment.

He pulls me into his lap, and when I lower my gaze, I see that I wasn't the only one affected by his ministrations. His arousal is evident against my thigh, and a shiver runs through me at the thought of what's to come.

My hands glide over his strong shoulders, running to his back, feeling the ripple of his muscles and the scars beneath his skin as he continues to explore every inch of my body. His breath hitches, latching his mouth to my neck and sucking hard. Then, he reaches my breasts, taking one of them into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the hardened nipple while massaging the other with his hand. I moan loudly at the sensation, arching my back to offer more of myself to him. Astarion's hand travels down my stomach and between my legs as he continues to suck and tease at my hardened nub. His fingers trace over my folds before delving inside once more.

I gasp at the feeling, pleasure coursing through me as he sets a steady pace with his fingers. His mouth now moves to my other breast, giving it just as much attention while still pleasuring me below. The combination is almost too much for me to handle and body trembles with ecstasy as Astarion brings me closer and closer to release.

But just when I think I can't take it anymore, he removes both his mouth and fingers from me. When I look back at him, his eyes are hooded with lust, and he has a devilish smile over his lips, showing his canines.

I whimper "Stop teasing".

Astarion chuckles at my plea, his eyes dark with desire. "But teasing you is so much fun," he says, his voice husky.

I pout at him, but deep down I know I am enjoying every moment of this game between us.

"Fine" he says finally "No more teasing", and he smirks again. Then he grabs my body effortlessly and turns me into his gravestone on my hands and knees. "Hold on tight, sweetheart," he commands with a mischievous glint in his eye. Goosebumps spread across my entire body, but I can't decipher if they are from excitement or fear. As I place my hands on the tomb, I feel the coolness of the stone against my skin, it's rough edges. I lay my eyes on the new carvings, the name in it, a bittersweet irony washes over me as I realize that this place, where he took his last breath, is now a site of new beginnings and life, and the profanation of his tomb doing nothing but stir me on.

I feel him position himself behind me, his hands roughly grabbing my hips and pulling me back against him. The tip of his erection presses against my entrance, and I can't help but shiver in anticipation.

I feel him leaning above my body "Are you ready?" he whispers in my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

"Yes," I breathe, my voice barely audible. I'm still trembling with desire, but I'm ready for him.

With one swift movement, Astarion thrusts inside me, filling me completely. My breath catches in my throat as he fills me with his thickness, and I moan out loud in pleasure and pain. He pulls out almost all the way, then thrusts back in, deep and hard. My hands grip onto the gravestone, my nails digging into it as I try to hold on to something, anything, to ground myself.

"Harder," I plead, my voice shaky.

Astarion obliges, his thrusts becoming faster and harder.

"You like that, don't you?" He groans.

I can feel every inch of him inside me, stretching me and filling me completely. Astarion's hands move from my hips to my breasts, squeezing and massaging them roughly. I arch my back, pushing myself against him as he hits just the right spot inside me and I whine loudly. Astarion's pace starts to become erratic, his breathing heavy against my neck. His hand reaches between my legs again, massaging my clit as he continues to thrust inside me like crazy. The combination is mind-blowing and I can feel myself feeling so close to ecstasy. By now, I'm sure I am drooling over the ground beneath, but I can't bring myself to care.

"Come for me," Astarion growls, his voice low and commanding.

With his words pushing me over the edge, I explode in a wave of pleasure, screaming his name as I ride out my orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through my body, making me shake like crazy, and I know if I wasn't grabbing the stone, I would be on the floor by now. Astarion's hands are caressing my back as I come down from my high, and I feel him hard inside of me still. For a second, I think this is going to be it, but Astarion isn't finished yet. He eases himself out of me, his touch gentle as he lays my body down on the cool dirt beneath us. His lips meet mine once again, but this time the urgency is mixed with tenderness and a hint of vulnerability. Astarion pulls away slightly, his breath ragged as he stares into my eyes, his while curls tickling my face.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice barely a whisper.

I look into his eyes, filled with love and passion, and I know without a doubt that I am his. I smile up at him, reaching to stroke his face.

"Yes, I am" I say, my voice just as soft.

He slowly pushes inside me once more, grunting and keeping our eyes locked. My body is sensitive after my first orgasm, and I let out a hiss in response.

"Say it" he grunts "say that you are mine".

My breath catches as Astarion continues to thrusts into me, the overwhelming sensations of pleasure overcoming any lingering sense of sensitivity.

"I am yours," I pant, my voice filled with devotion and longing. A slow smile spreads across Astarion's face, and he leans down to capture my lips in a passionate kiss. He then lowers his mouth and sucks hard on the skin below my ear, and I know I will arrive bruised at the camp. The thought of our companions knowing should ashame me, but it only excites me. Being marked as his.

"Mine" he repeats, and with a feral growl, Astarion thrusts into me with renewed vigor.

My body responds, arching and undulating beneath him, my nails dig deep into the flesh of his back, marking him as mine as well. He grabs my hands, intertwining our fingers as we move together in perfect harmony. His movements become slow and deliberate, the moment turned intimate.

"I love you," I whisper, my voice hoarse from the intensity of everything.

Astarion's eyes lock onto mine, and I see the depth of his love and devotion for me there. "I love you, too," he says. Astarion's movements become more desperate as he chases his own release, but never breaking eye contact with me, like he wanted to memorize every detail of my face, to etch it into his memory forever.

As he feels himself nearing his climax, he reaches down and grabs the back of my thighs, pulling me even closer to him and teasing where our bodies are connected. The sensation of his rough hands on my skin sends hard shivers of pleasure up my spine.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice gruff with desire. "Look at your master".

The word makes something primal awakens in me, leaving me dizzy with desire, as I look up to meet his gaze. Astarion's eyes are locked onto mine as he drives himself deeper inside me, our bodies rhythmically colliding with a loud smacking noise that fills the silence of the graveyard.

"I love you," he groans once again, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

I can feel my own climax building, my body responding to his every thrust. The sensation of being filled by Astarion, knowing that he is mine and I am his, is unlike anything else in the world.

"Come for me, darling," he groans, his eyes never leaving mine.

With one final push, I feel myself shattering into a thousand pieces, my orgasm washing over me like a tidal wave. I cry out his name, my voice echoing through the ancient ruins around us. Astarion's own climax hits him like a freight train, his body convulsing as he pours himself into me. I feel his seed filling me, and a wave of warmth washes my body as I revel in the sensation.

For a moment, I simply lay there, basking in the afterglow and the feel of his sweaty body pressed against mine. Then, slowly, I gently run my fingers through his hair, smiling tenderly at him. He trails soft kisses over my shoulder, leaving goosebumps over my skin.

"I'm yours," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Forever."

Astarion shows a delighted smile that radiated from deep within him, and he pulls me close.

"Thank you" He whispers hoarsely.

I furrow my brows and look up at him. "What for?"

He looks down, and I think I see a hint of embarrassment color his cheeks "For being with me, despite everything." he says "For loving me even if I'm nothing more than a spawn"

I give a soft kiss to the skin below his throat "I don't love you for your power, Astarion" I say softly "or your beauty or your abilities. I love you for you, because you deserve to be loved"

He seems to get a little emotional at that, but only holds me closer to his body and keeps caressing my back.

After a few minutes in comfortable silence, he leans down and whispers in my ear, breath warm against my skin. "I didn't know you could be so obedient"

I turn my head to look at him, a mischievous smile forming on my lips. "I didn't know you liked me being obedient," I reply, teasingly.

Astarion chuckles and pulls back slightly to look me in the eyes. "Oh, sweetheart," he says with a smirk. "There are so many things you don't know about me."

Without warning, Astarion pulls out of me slowly, and with a satisfied grin, he helps me to sit up and leans in to kiss me tenderly.

"As much as I enjoyed this new begginings graveyard fretting, this place is giving me the creeps" He says, looking around at the dark and eerie background. "Let's go home”

We gather our clothes and begin to dress, but not before we take a moment to relish in the warmth and safety that we found in each other. As we walk away from the ancient ruins, hand in hand, we can't help but smile and think to ourselves that maybe, just maybe, we found more than just a new beginning in the depths of that old, dark place.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bg3 fanfiction #astarion baldurs gate #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction

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writingseaslugs · 1 year

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Savanaclaw: When They're Sick

This one was fun to write, even if I was brain dead while writing the last half of Ruggie and all of Jack’s. I should be going to bed since I’m doing this after work, but the want to write is strong today.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Savanaclaw: When They’re Sick

Something that Beastmen didn’t talk about was their cold season. Illnesses affected the different races…well differently. For beastmen it meant they were significantly weaker; you’d think they were on death’s door. Even getting out of bed to take care of their needs was taxing. It was like the man flu but made ten times worse. Any prideful beastman refuses to acknowledge this shortcoming of their race, but it was undeniable. The moment one beastman got sick, the others stayed far away so they didn’t suffer the same fate.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is both the easiest and hardest person to take care of while sick. The good news is he goes by the theory that he can just sleep it all off and will take that route. Still, he needs medicine and food, and when he’s too weak to leave the bed, he’s calling on Ruggie to help him out. Bad news is Ruggie is also sick and can barely get out of bed, so he was planning on just suffering for a few days until he could venture out and get what he needed.

That was when Leona had a wonderful idea and contacted you. In his mind, you still owed him big time for that time he let you stay in his room, and you were about to repay a part of that debt today. So don’t be surprised when you’re called to his room and he’s treating you like one of the servants. Put the sick lion in his place and inform him that you’re not a servant and, although you’ll take care of him, if he continues to treat you like one you’re dropping food and medicine by his bed and leaving. He gets the memo and is feeling far too crummy to even argue with you.

Now Leona hates medicine with a burning passion. The artificial sweetness in cough syrups and the herbal qualities of everything else was gag inducing. You’re going to have to figure out a game plan to force it into his mouth so he’ll get better, because he downright refuses to let it get close to him. Sneaking it into his food is also a no-go since he can smell it. So have fun wrestling a lion to get him to take his meds. Thankfully he’s weaker than normal so it’s a lot easier than you’d think.

Leona is picky when it comes to what he’s eating while sick. He’s going to be wanting something with a lot of meat in it in order to get some of his energy back. A good meat stew is your best bet, and you’ll have to cut the vegetables to be so fine he can’t pick them out. He needs them, he knows this, but they’re still gross and he hates that you’d serve him a dish with it in there.

The moment Leona is better he’s shooing you away. He no longer needs you and therefore you can get out of his dorm. Wait…you want him to thank you? Please, you were simply repaying a debt that you owed him. He’ll thank you if that’s what it takes for you to get out of his fur. He might even lean his head on yours while he says it before ushering you towards the door so he can be left alone and sulk about how weak he was in front of someone. His ego is gonna be needing some recovery after the Ramshackle prefect won a wrestling match and forced him to take medicine.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie is another person who normally will just suffer in silence when he’s sick. Everyone in the dorm realizes that he’s ill and stays far away so they don’t catch it, so it’s easier than you’d think. He just isolates himself as he gets better, occasionally managing to drag himself out of bed in order to grab a drink or use the restroom. Making food was out of the question though, so he just accepts the fact that his stomach is going to be growling until he’s better.

Literally the moment you hear that Ruggie is sick, you should be going to help. The poor boy is probably in the fetal position on his bed, hating life right now. His fever will be so high he doesn’t even know what’s going on around him since he’s absolute dog shit at taking care of himself. He’s normally the one who takes care of others so when he’s sick he just hopes for the best. Thankfully there won’t be much arguing when you begin helping him. Again, his fever is so high he might think you’re a hallucination.

Ruggie will take medication no problem for the most part, mainly because he’s not even going to know what you’re handing him until it’s already in his mouth. He is going to be complaining about the foul taste and asking for some water afterwards, but at least he didn’t spit it right out. He might comment that you betrayed his trust by giving him something gross, but he’ll forget about it in ten minutes if the fever has anything to say about it.

He is going to devour anything you bring him. Honestly he probably hasn’t eaten anything all day, or since he got sick, so he’s starving. He probably won’t be tasting anything either, just happy to have something in his stomach. He might get a bit teary eyed as he thanks you for the food. It doesn’t matter if you made it or bought something at Sam’s to microwave, food is food and he’s been wanting some for a while now.

Ruggie will be suspicious for a while after he’s better, wondering what the ulterior motive for helping him out was. He’s not used to people just taking care of him because they care. Clearly you’re after something…right? He’s broke, so you can’t have his money. Reassuring him that he doesn’t owe you anything won’t help the situation; even if he adores you he simply doesn’t believe you’d put yourself through that for no reason. Just tell him he can help you next time you’re sick and you can call it even.

Jack Howl

Jack honestly doesn’t get sick all too often; he takes care of himself and works out, so his immune system is something to be admired. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t get sick, and when it does it hits him harder than most. He normally self-isolates so he can get better. He’ll drag himself out to get food and take care of himself since he knows it’s important, but he’s going to be pushing his limits by doing these simple tasks.

Originally he’s going to try and push you away the moment you offer, worried that he might end up getting you sick. Once you reassure him that you’ll be fine, he gives in. He’s too weak to put up much of an argument anyway, so might as well just roll with the punches. He’s going to try and make things as easy as possible for you and not ask for much; he’ll mainly be asleep for most of it.

Thankfully Jack has no issues with taking medication. In fact, he doesn’t even see them as being disgusting. He’s taken green shots pre-workout before and those are nasty. He’ll down any medication you give him and you’ll have his full trust to not poison him. The main thing is the smell, if it’s too artificial smelling he’s going to be hating the scent of it.

He’s not picky when sick, in fact he can barely taste anything you bring him. As long as it’s healthy he’ll be satisfied. He’ll be asking if you want to sit down and eat with him, feeling awkward if you just stare at him. Meals shared together taste better anyway, so might as well do it. Besides, if you see his tail wagging behind him when you accept the suggestion, you’ll know he’s well on his way to getting better.

He’ll be following you around like a lost puppy once he’s all better. He’s thankful for what you did and feels bad for the trouble he’s caused, so he’s going to make sure nothing troubles you for a while. Expect him to open doors for you and carry your books. Just let him do it, it’s his own way of thanking you for spending those few days while he felt dead.

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Leona x Reader #Ruggie Bucchi #Ruggie Bucchi x Reader #Ruggie x Reader #Jack Howl #Jack Howl x Reader #Jack x Reader

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imrllytootiredforthis · 2 years

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A Night at the Bar

Pairing: felix x reader

Pt.2 Here

Summary: A regular night out with your friends turns into something more when you meet a new kid going to your school

Warnings: fem reader, dom reader, sub felix, college!au (everyone’s 18+), dry humping (he grinds against her leg, whatever that’s called), nipple play, mommy kink, pet names, oral (f receiving), probably more that I forgot

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: So I’ve been asked a few times of I have a taglist and I was wondering if you guys wanted me to make one? Just lmk. Anyway, as always ignore my bad grammar and possible spelling mistakes lol

18+ Minors DNI

It had been an uneventful night.

All you had really wanted to do was stay home, cuddle up in some blankets and watch a movie, maybe even make some microwave popcorn.

But, the people you decidedly called friends refused to let you spend yet another Saturday night being a quote unquote ‘hermit’, holed up in your apartment like always.

“Besides, school is starting soon! Don’t you wanna get out before you’re going to have a truckload of schoolwork to worry about?” Samantha claimed while rummaging through your closet, settling on an outfit and throwing it in your direction. “Put this on.”

So they dragged you to the new bar that opened down the street.

Music made its way outside from within, low bass pounding in your head before you even entered the place. You rubbed at your temples, grimacing at the way the headache building in the forefront of your brain throbbed in protest.

It started out fine, as it always did.

Gossiping about your classmates and teachers and updating the others on whatever happened in your life lately.

But then it got boring. And when it got boring, desperate measures were pulled out.

Your friends pestered you about turning away the guys approached you, offering you free drinks. They scrutinized you for sending away a ‘hot’ one, telling you that you needed to take charge and finally get a permanent man as opposed to your regular hook-ups.

And so they took up the challenge upon themselves.

Firstly: What was your type?

“What about him?”

“Really? He’s pretty cute.”

Secondly: Judging you base on the fact that you didn’t like any of the guys they suggested

“Him?”

“Why not?”

“Yeah, he’s fit. You must be blind if you don’t want him.”

“Like, look at those muscles, that hair!”

Thirdly: Getting mad and giving up on the game

“Well what is your type then?”

“Come on! Why are you like this? We’re just trying to have some fun! Don’t take it so personal!”

When they were done bothering you about boys like excited schoolgirls, they switched up topics and moved on to begging you to dance with them.

As the bright lights flashed leaving coloured imprints in your vision, you bluntly told them no.

The idea of dancing right now felt gross and judging by the way the sweaty bodies of the crowd moved, with gyrating hips and wandering hands. ‘Whispering’ that was almost yelling and guys on the side with drinks watching like they were searching for their next prey.

Nope. Absolutely not. You wanted no part of that and no amount of begging could make you. Refusing, you ordered another drink as they boo’d at you, fake heckling as they left.

And finally, you were alone. Well as alone as you could be in a crowded bar that was a prime way for everyone there to catch the flu, which was actually going around right now.

In fact, you shouldn’t have even left your house today. You should’ve stayed home with your blankets and popcorn and proceeded to binge watch your favourite show for the 50th time.

You wished with every ounce of your being that you could go back in time and tell yourself to never go out tonight.

You should’ve turned down your friends and stayed in the warmth and comfor-

The next thought disappeared.

It wasn’t an electric spark like movies describe attraction but it was...something. Something that caught your attention. Made you freeze in place, eyes caught, unable to look away even if you wanted to-and you didn’t want to.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to come out here after all...

Brown-his eyes were brown.

And his blond hair was mussed as if someone had purposely shaken it up. His face was youthful-around the same age as you with adorable freckles dusting across his rosy pink cheeks and makeup probably better than your own.

Something akin to a shy smile played across lips. He licked them and looked away for a split second then back at you as if he was checking to see that it was really him you were looking at.

You smiled, he was cute.

Your friends were wondering what exactly your type was.

This.

This was your type.

The cute ones that looked softer, sweeter. Nervous with almost hint of uncertainty. Body language alone that conveyed they were gentle. A touch feminine in a way if that was an appropriate thing to say.

He lifted his hand and gave a little wave, awkward with a smile to match but endearing.

Adorable.

Yes. This one, whoever he was, was your type.

Should you gesture for him to come over? Or should you walk over?

Someone said something and his gaze left yours.

You huffed, taking another sip of your drink. Too late for that now, you thought bitterly.

But still, you couldn’t stop staring.

He was with his friends, on the opposite side of the room. Loud and practically screaming in their corner of the bar, laughing and slapping each other on the back.

You could recognize a few of them.

Chan you have a few classes with and had worked together for several group projects. The two of you exchange conversations now and then in class and you could confidently say that you were friends.

And you could pick out Seungmin and Hyunjin from past interactions or travelling word. The rest of them you could recognize from passing in the halls or seeing around in general but you couldn’t quite place names on.

But you’d never seen that one before.

Maybe he went to another college or didn’t go to one at all. Maybe he was one of their family members and was visiting.

Enough speculation, you were gonna find out.

You downed the rest of the cup and crossed the bar, shoes clicking with every step.

“Channie!”

Eyes turned to you at the use of his name and Chan laughed with a smile, opening his arms for a hug. “Y/N!”

You obliged, letting him pull you into his arms whilst trying to ignore the scent of alcohol coming in waves off of him. He hung off of you, drunkenly slurring to the others, “Guys! This is Y/N! Y/N, meet the guys!”

You jumped slightly, wincing as he yelled it in your ear. “No need to yell. I’m right here.”

Chan slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in a comical way. “Sorry.” He whispered loudly.

“Sorry about him. He’s kinda drunk.” One of them offered.

“Thanks, I couldn’t tell.”

Someone snorted at the smirk you made and you turned to see the whole reason you’d approached in the first place.

He blushed, silver ear piercings glimmering in the dim lighting.

“Sorry, I’m not familiar with all your names.” All while you spoke the words your eyes never left him. Those ridiculously cute freckles hypnotizing you.

Chan broke the trance with his slurred speech, stumbling slightly and almost putting you straight on your ass with his weight. “That’s Han,”

He only gestured in the general direction so your only clue as to who he was pointing to was the way the man you assumed was Han waved with a bright smile.

“That’s...Hyunjin,”

You smiled with a nodded head in greeting toward him. “That’s Changbin, um Jeongin and a-” Chan gestured wildly with his hand, eyes barely staying open, “...Seungmin!”

Each waved at their name, making your life much easier as you struggled to support your friend’s weight.

Suddenly Chan got up and stumbled over to one of them. “That’s Lee Know.”

The poor boy’s eyes widened as his Chan stumbled, foot catching on nothing but thin air as he tripped over his own feet, falling straight into him, both of the boys falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

You nearly laughed at the pissed expression on Lee Know’s face. They were both covered in the drink he had been holding when his hyung knocked him over.

They were all rushing around you to pick up Chan, unpinning the other boy from under him while the others went to the bar to ask for napkins to try and clean the mess up.

The chaos ensued and you tried your best to help but in the end you ended up just standing there, watching on the sidelines as the others handled in cleaning everything.

“I’m Felix.”

You hadn’t realized he was that close until he’d spoken, close enough that you could feel his warm breath against your neck and smell of mint and beer in his breath.

At your flinch, he chuckled awkwardly, laugh deep just like his voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you...It’s just that Chan-um,” his stutter increased when you turned to look at him. The weight of your steely gaze settled on him once more sending chills down his spine. “I uh, -sorry what’s your name?”

You laughed, a beautiful sound.

He wanted to make you do it again.

Felix hadn’t wanted to go to the bar that night either.

The others had said they were gonna show him around tonight, just give him the basic run-down of where everything was but then Han had pointed out that this place had just opened.

The next thing he knew, they were in the bar, drinking and laughing.

And it wasn’t that he didn’t like partying or going out like the rest of his friends, he just didn’t want to go out specifically tonight.

The area was new and he’d much rather explore the rest of the city than be here in a loud sticky bar. Sure he’d visited a few times and could recognize a few streets but now he was moving here to pursue his dancing career. He needed to at least know how to get to school on his own before it started.

“I’m Y/N, as Chan said.” God, he wanted to cry. Here he was, talking to you, someone beautiful and most likely out of his league. Acting like a blushing schoolboy with his first crush.

“O-oh yeah, what Chan said. I’ve had a few drinks tonight-I’m really sor-”

“-no need to keep apologizing Love, it’s okay.” you purred, smirking at the way he blushed, eyes averting as he subconsciously licked his lips.

“I was wondering if you could uh, drive Chan and I home? I’m bunking with him right now and well both of us have had a few drinks...”

You pursed your lips. “Why doesn’t one of the others take you then?”

Felix’s eyes widened as he scrambled for an answer. “Well-...they are going to their own place for the night.”

It was a lame excuse and he knew it. You knew it. Anyone who heard it would know it. But nonetheless, you were going to do it as long as you got to stay with the pretty boy a little bit longer.

“Okay.” You looked over the swaying bodies to see Chan being supported by Han and Seungmin with his arms swung around their shoulders.

“I think that we should leave soon before the poor boys are left permanently deaf.” You pointed out, Felix’s attention turning towards the way his roommate was screaming into the two boy’s ears.

“I agree.”

It wasn’t easy attempting to get the older boy’s nearly limp sluggish body into your car.

The entire time he screamed about random topics such as what he ate for lunch yesterday and raving about how much he loved Seungmin, who told him to shut up as he clipped on the seatbelt.

Felix started to get into the passenger before you stopped him, throwing a paper bag at him. “Nope, you’re in the back making sure Channie here doesn’t make a mess in my car.”

Reluctantly, he got into the back. A sad expression, reminding you of a kicked puppy plastered across his face.

The car ride was loud, with Chan shouting unintelligible nonsense and Felix apologizing to you over and over with you telling him to shut up and stop apologizing.

Three stops for Chan to barf on the side of the street and what could’ve been a ten minute drive that resulted in an almost half an hour drive because Felix barely knew his way there, later you finally arrived at their house.

Together, you and Felix lugged him to his room. His body weighing on your like a bundle of bricks.

As soon as he saw his bed your friend flopped backwards onto it with the coordination and gracefulness of a baby deer walking for the first time.

“Should we do anything else? Dress him or something?” You wondered aloud as he promptly fell asleep, not so quiet snores leaving him.

“Nah, he should be fine.” He led you out of Chan’s room and into the kitchen which was opened to connect with the living room.

He rummaged around, gesturing for you to sit on the barstool which you graciously obliged. “You hungry for anything?”

“I’m good, baby. I should probably actually get going.” You pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to your friends who bombarded you with messages and voicemails wondering where you were. Too wrapped up in that to see the way he froze at the name.

He didn’t want to admit how the names you called him affected him.

Didn’t want to admit the fantasies that ran through his head when he heard you say them, rolling smoothly off your tongue.

Baby, Love, you called him those and they all made him so, so needy. Needy for you. For you to whisper them to him as he sat on his knees between your legs, gripping his hair between your fingers, controlling his movements the way you wanted to.

The thought was enough to get him hardening. He internally cursed himself, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

You looked up to only see him frowning, “No! Don’t go.” You slid your phone into your bag, jaw clenching.

Had it been any other situation you would’ve said yes. Any other random guy’s house you would’ve probably already been on top of him, finding all of those places that would make him cry out in pleasure.

But he was drunk. And you were still level-headed enough to know that it would be wrong for you to do anything with him in that state.

“I think I should, both of you guys are good now.” You got up from the seat, slipping your bag over your shoulder, giving him a friendly smile to mask the want that you were sure was apparent in your expression.

He crossed the kitchen, leaving the leftovers he’d pulled out of the fridge, getting close. “Please don’t go.” The small whine in his words left you wanting to shove him against the kitchen counter and wreck him here and now.

He was drunk. That was that and you weren’t going to do anything but you were still curious. “Why should I stay?”

His mouth opened then closed. Eyes falling down to your lips, trailing farther down to what would be considered indecent before snapping back to your face.

“What would you say if I asked you to kiss me?” He asked so innocently with a big pout, bottom lip jutted out.

His eyes told an entirely different story as his face, lust blown pupils wide enough to swallow the entire iris of his pretty brown eyes.

You moved closer to him. Close enough to count the individual freckles on his face. “I’d say you were drunk.”

His frown deepened and he moved backwards, grabbing your arms to pull you with him until the couch hit the back of his knees and slowly, without breaking eye contact he laid back…

With that, he looked down to the wrist he was holding before lifting your hand up to those pretty pouted lips, slipping your middle and pointer finger into his warm wet mouth.

His head cocked to the side as he wrapped his legs around your hips making you stumble right up against him and his very obvious hard-on.

Holy fuck.

A hot liquid tension filled the room and you tried to restrain yourself from jumping him then and there. “You’re drunk Felix.”

But god, the way your fingers felt in his mouth, wet tongue laving around them before lapping; a lewd sucking sound that had you clenching around nothing, almost taking over your rationality as he took your digits farther down as if he was trying to deepthroat them.

Unlatching from you he looked up, eyes serious albeit still wide with want. “I’m not drunk. I swear.”

“How many drinks did you have tonight?”

“Two.” He thrusted against you and you bite your lip to keep the moan at bay.

“Are you sure?”

He sat up, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Yes.” A stray whimper left him, the noise shooting arousal straight between your legs. “I sobered up in the car. I promise.”

Your bag slipped off your shoulder and fell to the floor as his thrusts continued. Heavy pants and whines leaving him in earnest at the friction his tight pants provided as he ground against you.

It was getting increasingly harder to not shove him back onto the couch but you needed to be absolutely sure. “Are you a hundred percent positive Lix? Don’t lie to me just because you want me to fuck you, Love.”

You could feel him shiver at your words, ignoring all but the last one. His plush lips moving against your throat, biting and licking your heated skin causing a traitorous moan to leave you with a gasp.

“Felix.” Your fingers laced into his hair, pulling him back to look at you.

He let out a helpless cry. From being pulled away from you, from the delicious feeling of you pulling his hair, from the way your other hand held his hips down preventing him from moving.

“Are you absolutely sure? We can do this another time if you are but don’t lie to me just because you wanna get your dick wet right now.”

You didn’t tell him that was a lie. That you most likely wouldn’t seek him out again but you needed to be sure if you were going to do anything with him tonight.

His hips desperately tried to move in vain at the grip you had on him, hard enough to leave bruises on his pale flesh. “I promise! ‘M sober!”

You leaned ever so closer, the tips of your noses touching. The feel of his warm breath against your lips. If you moved ever so slightly...your lips would touch his. “Then what do you want me to do baby?”

A glassy sheen covered his eyes as he whined.

“Please.”

And just like that you could hear the sound of your willpower snapping clean in two.

Tilting your head to slot your lips against his. He whimpered out, your fingers growing ever so tighter in his hair as the other switched from holding his hips in place to setting them at a pace to grind hard and quick against you.

His mouth opened wider, allowing more access for your tongue to slip inside. Your moans rang out in sync, breathless and wanting as his heels dug into your back trying to pull you impossibly closer into him.

Arms move around your neck, clinging so helplessly, so wanting, as if he thought that if he let go of you now you’d disappear out of thin air and leave him here all alone.

You kissed him raw and hard until you had no choice but to pull away from lack of air, leaving his lips with a bite to his bottom one while dragging him by his hair away.

There’s spit glistening all over his lips and a blush coats his face and neck, already looking so fucked out. “Love,” an involuntary shiver ran through him, almost violent through his vulnerable state. “Lift your arms for me.”

He obeys with no question, unlatching from around your neck to raise them above his head, letting you lift the hem of his shirt over and throw it somewhere forgotten on the floor.

“Lay back kitten.”

The name is received with a mewl, almost exactly as like a cats and he nods quickly, you feel his heart race under your touch, breath heaving faster. His legs loosen but don’t let go as he falls back onto the couch.

And fuck, you wish you could take a picture.

Make a painting out of it. The beauty of it rivalling the finest of the renaissance. You’d hang it up where only you could see it, remembering each time you looked at it the way he looks here and now forever. Look back at it and see how utterly gorgeous he was.

Yes, this was exactly your type.

Felix bit his kiss-bruised lips, blond hair highlighted against the black fabric of the coach. You let out a soft groan to see that the freckles continued down his chest, littering all over his chest and shoulders.

“Shit, kitten. ‘M gonna ruin you.”

The words were meant to be smooth but they came out nearly a moan as you leaned over him to trace your nails along the spots and his pretty pink nipples, watching with a smirk of satisfaction as he squirmed under you, loose whimpers and restrained moans coming from him as you rubbed the buds, quickly turning into hard peaks from your ministrations.

“So sensitive aren’t you? ‘S anyone else ever played with your nipples before baby?”

He gave you no reply. Too caught up in the moment, too lost in the new sensations you were gifting him. Too dumbed down to the pleasure to control the words falling from his lips. “Please Momm-.”

Just barely catching himself, he tensed, eyes flashing to look up at you, hoping you didn’t notice the words or the reaction to them he had.

He’d never meant to call someone that in bed before. Much less you, beautiful and somehow willing to give him a chance.

Sure, he’d felt like saying it tons of times before. With his past girlfriend he’d accidentally called her it while he’d been thrusting into her in missionary. She was submissive just like him and had just called him daddy. They’d both already known about their similarities and had just rolled with whatever happened in the moment but apparently this was too far for her and she’d broken up with him because of it.

What would you think? Call him a freak and leave? Leave him now, all needy and horny. Spread out on the couch like this?

The thought was enough for his thighs to tighten around you, pushing you to put your entire weight onto him. He didn’t want you to leave, couldn’t even stand the thought.

You stopped. Stopped your thrusts. Stopped the way your fingers danced along his chest in a way that made his head spin in the best possible way. Stopped it all and a voice deep inside his brain screamed in protest, his head burying into your neck, hoping to anything that you wouldn’t leave him.

“I asked you a question, Felix.”

His head was hazy. He couldn’t remember what you’d said, didn’t even think he’d heard the question in the first place.

Luckily, you spared the poor boy, pulling him back to look at you.

Shit, here it comes. You’re gonna call him disgusting and gross which he could handle if you wouldn’t look at him with those disgusted eyes that made him want to cry and not in a good way.

But you don’t say those words?

Instead what comes out of those perfect lips is, “Do you want Mommy to make you feel good baby?”

Was he dreaming? He felt like in he was in a dream.

That same voice from before shrieked in happiness.

“Yes! Please Mommy! Need you, ah!” His fingers gripped onto your hair as your lips latched around one of his hardened buds, nipping slightly before sucking. “Ha! God! Please, fe-feel so good, don’t-don’t stop, please Mommy!” He sobbed.

His words had heat zinging straight to your core and you began grinding against him harder and harder, trying satiate that ache settling between your legs.

He watched in a lust-filled fascination, trying to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his skull, trying to keep his tongue from hanging out of his mouth as strands of drool dripped down his chin. But he couldn’t keep back the breathy incoherent pleas, mixtures of faster and slower and close and mommy that had you clenching around nothing.

You could tell he was close, very close. Not only from the way he chanted it, repeating the words over and over like they were the only things left in that pretty head of his. But also by the way his breathing grew erratic, his pulse hammering and fluttering in his chest against your lips.

And then...and then it...stopped?

He whimpered at the sudden loss of stimulation, eyes flying open to stare at you, glittering with unshed tears and confusion. They searched yours, as if he could figure out why you stopped in the depth of them. And he could. The teasing light in them. An inward smirk as he cried out and rutted up against you, trying to chase the high that was quickly dissipating.

Your finger still traced over his pecs, soothing and tantalizing all the same. “W-why’d you stop?” He whined in frustration at your lack of movement.

Red splotches that you know will turn to purple bruises covered the expanse of his chest. Such a pretty visual just for you to see.

Just for you, no one else. Your little toy to play with and ruin, to use for your pleasure and he’ll love it all the same.

Sweat and saliva covered him-both yours and his. It was gross and lewd and fucking hot.

“Jus’ wanna play with you for a bit, baby? Don’t you wanna let Mommy feel good too, Lixie?”

He nodded with vigor, chest still heaving and hips still subtly trying to press up against you which you let slide from the way that sparks of pleasure shot up your spine.

“Yes Mommy, Lixie wants to make you feel good too...” His voice was higher now and he paused as if trying to decide whether if he should continue or not. “Could I...um...”

You tilted his chin up and nodded for him to continue. “Could I eat you out...?” He was so quiet you nearly missed the question but decided to spare him from repeating himself as you bit your lip to feign thinking.

“Aww, does baby wanna taste Mommy?” Despite the teasing lilt, he nodded, earrings jingling with the movement.

You smiled and let your hand ghost down his neck, feeling his throat bob under your hand. Milky skin soft and smooth, practically begging to be marked up by you.

Finally after what felt like forever of teasing touches and small kisses, working him up only to back away once his moans got loud.

You repeated it several times before pulling away completely. Felix whined in protest, making desperate grabby hands at you as your hands untwined his legs from around your waist.

“Be a good boy for me and get on your knees baby.”

His whines quieted down at that. And he slid off the couch, falling to his knees on the hardwood floor eagerly wide-eyed.

His hands folding behind his back, looking up at you with a pleading look, completing the perfect picture of obedience.

‘Just when I thought he couldn’t get any prettier,’ you mused, letting yourself sink back into the couch, spreading your legs to make room for the boy.

It was so hard to restrain yourself from ravaging him then and there, edging him until he cried from the pleasure, begging you to stop and let him cum and still ignoring him.

Going on and on until you decided that he had enough.

You beckoned him toward you and with no hesitation he was scooting closer and pressing his face sweetly against your lower stomach, looking up at you in a silent ask of permission.

He shudders against between your legs as your hand reaches down to play with his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. Eyes shut in bliss he begins to nose against you. "Please."

It’s a whine-a plea, a beg to let him give you pleasure.

“Yes,”

The warm, comforting smile he gives as he stares up at you makes your heart skip a beat.

Tantalizingly slow, he tugs at the waistband of your pants, lifting yourself up so the fabric falls to pool around your ankles. And with an ungraceful pull, they’re landing somewhere across the room to find later on.

A shudder runs down your spine as you feel his hot breath lightly ghosting across you. And with open-mouthed kisses and nudges he slowly parts your legs, coaxing you to vocalize how good it feels.

He looks unsure.

And he is. He hasn’t done this in awhile, doesn’t really remember what to do. His eyes flash up in quick glances to to see your face, trying to decipher if you enjoy what he’s doing or not.

A soft moan escapes your lips as he teases you, nipping and mouthing everywhere but where you need him most. But you can’t tell if it’s from inexperience.

Then your eyes catch him and you can tell by the way he periodically glances up at you between licks, stopping when you seem to be enjoying it that it’s a kind of payback from your teasing earlier.

“Lix.” You warn, a subtle edge in your voice telling him to hurry up.

He stops with a whine, unable to do anything but melt against the comfort of your plush thighs. He wishes that he could stay like this forever you, devouring you and hearing the way you praise him and-

“Lix.” You warn again, voice hardening as your hips start to push towards him in slow restrained grinds.

He pauses to look up at you with hearts in his eyes before his attention moves back down, watching, heart pounding and cock throbbing as evidence of your arousal drips down your skin and onto the fabric of the couch; practically salivating.

Growing too impatient with him, you grip his hair and shove his face into your pussy, throwing your head back with a moan as his tongue begins to eagerly lap at you.

He whines into you, the vibrations provoking a drawn-out groan that has something bubbling up deep inside you.

“Mm, such a good little slut for me kitten.” Breath hitching as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently. “Yes~”

His ever-willing need to please you, he shifts closer and pulls one leg over his shoulder allowing him to more access of you. At this you can do nothing but bite your lip and find purchase in his silky smooth hair, digging your fingers-almost painfully-into his scalp.

It doesn’t faze him, if anything it makes him go harder as he continues to lick you, alternating between deep thrusts of his warm muscle into you and harsh tonguing around the bundle of nerves.

“Oh, yes baby. You’re doing so good, ha, making me feel s-so good kitten,” He whimpers at the praise, the vibrations pulling a deep groan that has him palming himself over his pants.

You’d greatly underestimated the skills of the boy. A tongue on him like no other that had you gasping for air.

With your fingers already intertwined in his hair it’s easy to pull him away from you. He whines and tries in vain to bury his face into your pussy again but it’s your steely grip that prevents him as his long tongue sticks out, far as it can go.

He pouts with a long whine, “Mommy...”

You’re breathless at the view, him between your legs, your leg hitched over his shoulder, bottom lip jutted out, his face covered in your juices as he shamelessly bucks into his hand.

It’s positively erotic.

You don’t say a thing, drinking him in. Before you finally challenge, “If you can make me come before you do,” gesturing toward his little problem, “then I’ll let you come. If you don’t...” you shrug, letting the challenge hang in the air, waiting with a bated breath to see his reaction.

Nodding once, quick and determined he dives back in with a new fervor, lapping and licking all around you. Whining and whimpering, gasping breaths and making noises out of some kind of cheap submissive boy porn, desperate in his mission to please you.

And it isn’t long until you’re gasping as well. Sucking gulps of air into your breathless lungs, lightheaded as waves of pleasure pulse through your veins and flood throughout your body.

Praises and degrading terms fall from your lips, calling him a good boy, your little toy, your precious baby, your slut, your Lixie. Marvelling at how he’s so willing to please, acting like a whore as he gets hard from just tasting you.

Telling him how good he’s making you feel, mindless blabber that he eats up, moaning into you and rutting harder against his hand, hanging onto your every word.

He’s close, he knows it and he knows that you are too. The way your legs tense around him and your words raise higher in pitch. Telling him not to stop, that you’re close, that he’s your good little kitten

And that’s all he wants to be.

In this vey moment all he wants to be is a perfect little brainless toy for you, pleasing you, craving your touch and aching for your hands on his body.

One last suck to your clit and you come with a cry, fisting his hair tightly. That mixed with the way your thighs tremble and clench around his head, holding him in place. He nearly comes too, mewling causing shockwaves of overstimulation to run through you.

It takes a few minutes for you to come down, finally releasing his head and petting his hair.

Only to realize the way he humps up against your leg. Tongue hanging out, thrusting like a bitch in heat as he moves faster and faster, chasing his high.

But he doesn’t expect you to meet his thrusts, pushing your foot to meet him, he lets out a loud gasp, palming at your legs for more. “Look at you, baby,” you coo, hand slithering down to press against his lips.

He opens, inviting your digits in with little prompting, resuming in his efforts. “Such a pretty little kitten for me...” your other legs slips off his shoulder, planting it more suitably against the ground. “Getting off on my leg like a little kitty in heat aren’t you?”

Frustrated tears slip down the angles of his face, farther ruining his already smudged makeup as a gargled moan slips out around your fingers.

The thought of the blushing cute boy you met eyes with a the bar, contrasting to the one you see now. On his knees below you, humping your leg at an earnest pace as those pretty brown eyes you intensely stared at earlier slip back and finally shut. In fact, his entire head slips back. Blunt nails dig into the soft skin of your leg and high pitched whines vibrate in his throat.

He can hardly think and hardly wants to.

Felix wants nothing more than to be reduced only to the mind-numbing ache pulsing heavy between his legs. Nothing but pleasure and sensation, overwhelming and all-consuming.

The feel of you comforting him through, fingers pressing firm on his tongue while the other rubs over his throat and jaw. He’s finally free to. To lose himself in it all knowing that you’ll be just as happy to watch him falling apart because you know it’s happening because of you.

“Come whenever you need to kitten. Mommy’s gonna take care of you. S’okay.” And he lets go with whimper, clinging to your leg like a lifeline, comforted knowing that you’re there the whole way through.

Nothing compares to this feeling; floating as waves of ecstasy wash over him unyielding and harsh, making his toes curl and stealing the breath from his lungs like he was winded.

The sight is gorgeous. Thrusts not stopping even in his peak, unconscious as he whines from self-inflicted overstimulation.

You watch, breath hitched as his pants darken with his release.

Gradually, he comes back, grimacing at the uncomfortable sensation. It’s cute, the way he pouts.

His eyes are still dazed as you gesture for him to come sit with you and on wobbly legs he does. Laying on top of you with his chin propped up on your chest to look at you.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

You pet his hair, pushing the sweaty strands back and wiping away the tear stains on his cheeks. “No need to thank me, Lixie. If anything I should be thanking you.”

He looks at you, smiling wide with metaphorical heart-eyes and you could feel the blush rising on your skin.

“Wanna take a shower? I dunno about you but I think I really need one right about now.” Your strokes stop to cup his warm cheek, thumb swiping under his eye.

“Yeah, just gimme a moment to remember how to walk.” Both of you lightly chuckle, his voice back to its deep cadence.

After you lay in his bed, hair wet and wrapped in a towel, his fluffy from you blow-drying it.

His light snores fill the room, having fallen asleep as soon as his body hit the bed. You couldn’t blame him after such strenuous activities.

Now he lays, tucked against your chest. His body is curled up as if he wanted to feel as small as possible with your arms wrapped around him and body cradling his.

For the first time in a long time you felt...happy?

Normally after sex you there was little to no words, much less cuddling exchanged afterward. You’d offered in the beginning but after being rejected several times, left alone with them scurrying out of your apartment immediately after, you’d stopped asking. You didn’t kick them out but just didn’t ask, always allowing them to have the option of whatever this was but no one had ever taken you up on it.

But you decided it was nice. It was a strange experience that left you feeling fuzzy and warm inside. You could get use too-

Cold ice replaced the new fondness you felt.

This feeling, the feeling you’d felt budding the entire night-you’d never think you’d feel it again-much less for a one-night stand.

It was a big and overwhelming feeling as you looked to the sleeping man in your arms, looking like a sweet angel even in his slumber.

You felt a sudden urge to lean down and kiss him on the forehead, tuck back the loose strands of hair that fell across his face, trace your fingers over the complexion of freckles on his-

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Suddenly the room felt unbearably hot, smothering you until you could barely breath properly.

You needed to get out of here. Now.

Felix woke up the next morning with a yawn, stretching like a cat and reaching over to...?

He flipped over and...you were gone? The bed was cold. You’d been gone for a while. Maybe, you’d just gone to the bathroom or-

Felix threw the covers off and jumped out of bed, quickly throwing on some clothes before walking out of his room.

Maybe you’d be in the kitchen, making breakfast or drinking coffee. You’d greet him with a soft smile and a ‘Good morning sunshine!’

His fantasy was short-lived as all he found was Chan in the kitchen, sitting with a glass of water and a piece of toast on the barstool-the same one that you’d sat on last night.

Chan looked up as he entered the room. “Morning.” He nodded, lacking the nice way your voice rolled when you spoke, making shivers run down his spine.

“Morning.” Felix couldn’t coat the disappointment in his reply.

Luckily, Chan sensed nothing out of the ordinary as he continued eating, taking another bite before swallowing. “By the way, don’t care if you bring someone home but keep it down next time will you? You woke me and probably the entire apartment complex up.”

He froze and turned to look at the older man, blush coating his face, “O-oh, you uh, heard that huh?”

He snorted. “You could say that. I heard a lot of things I didn’t want nor need to hear last night.”

“Stoooop!” Felix covered his pink cheeks with his hands.

He was never going to be able to ever live this down.

Chan shrugged with a smirk before as if trying to be casual, clearing his throat. “So, (Y/N) huh?”

His ears perked at her name. “Yeah...by the way, did you see her leaving this morning? She just left without waking me up or anything...”

Taking another bite, he shook his head wordlessly. “Nope. Besides, she doesn’t really date much. Isn’t really the type to wake the other party up when she leaves more like leave the bed cold-or so I’ve heard.”

At the way Felix’s face dropped at the accuracy of his situation Chan stuttered, trying to backtrack. “Uh, I-i mean-you never know! I can...give you her number, send her a quick text to check up y’know.”

“Ah, no that’s okay.”

Chan nodded awkwardly. “Do you want me to show you around today? School starts soon and you should really learn your way around.”

Distracted in the way he mechanically got water from the tap, Felix replied without even looking up at his hyung. “Yeah, yeah. Sure, we can do that. Not like I have anything better to do.”

A/N: Sorry about my little obsession w/ Felix’s freckles but like, how could you not? I left this open for a pt.2 so lmk if you wanna see that, my requests are open and the rules are here

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ashwhowrites · 2 years

Note

eddie x cheerleader

they had a fight , eddie cant focus so he canceled hellfire

he still stays after school so he can watch her performance

he sees her smile is so fake

and even while shes performing he sees tears dripping out of her eyes

so he starts crying too

but once shes done performing , he follows her and gets on his knees and apologizes

Hopefully this is what you were looking for!

Angst with a happy ending :)

I LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUT

Eddie Munson had his beliefs and refused to change them. He was stubborn and hard headed. Quick to be defensive and claim he is always right. Even if that meant putting his pride in front of his relationship with his girlfriend.

"Eddie it's just this is my last performance of the season and you haven't been to a single one since we got together. I know you hate sports, the jocks, and the atmosphere but can't you do it for me, just this once?"

The same argument again. The couple have been fighting about Eddie going to one performance, just one, before her cheerleading season ended. Always hurting when all the cheerleaders smiled at their boyfriends who watched in the crowd, Y/N wanted that. She wanted to feel supported too.

"I don't get why we have to fight about this. I told you I hate being around those people. And I have hellfire tonight, I can't just cancel that for your dance." He scoffed, arms crossing in a defensive manner. Arguing quietly in the hallway while the rest of the school was in class or the lunch room.

"it's not a dance! It's a performance, which you wouldn't know since you never bother to come." She spat, her own arms crossing in front of her. "look I get it, the jocks are assholes and treat you like crap. But I've been doing my best to make them leave you alone. All the girls on my team adore us because you make me happy. They even ask for you to come. Do you know how embarrassing it is to watch every boyfriend in the crowd cheering for them? They all have someone to look for in the crowd, someone to smile at and run to when the game is done? I have no one out there Eddie! I'm the only one left on the court once we are done." She explained, trying her hardest to keep her tears in her eyes. She could not ruin the make up she spent hours doing for her last performance.

"oh now you are being dramatic, not every girl on that team has a boyfriend sitting there." He tried to defend, ignoring the pain in his chest imagining her standing there alone, wishing for him to just be there.

But Eddie could not go against everything he believed in. He already was a hypocrite for dating a cheerleader, he couldn't break down his pride even more. Not when he preached to his sheep about the venom of popularity.

"I don't even know why I still try. Enjoy your club asshole, I'll find a ride with Chrissy." She spat, ponytail harshly swinging as she marched past him, a shove in his shoulder. Not a single word she said went through his brain, just right out of his ears. Too stubborn to even be there for her. Maybe she just needs to pull the plug on them? Was the disappointment worth it every time?

Eddie sat at the lunch table, hearing the boys talk about how excited they are for the campaign, Eddie couldn't match the atmosphere.

He felt so fucking bad. The way she looked like she was going to cry when she walked past him was stuck in his head. He tried to shrug it off, focus on the campaign at hand.

He couldn't, he cancelled hellfire the second all the boys walked in.

"I just don't have it in me." He sighed as he sat at his throne.

The boys watched their leader placing his head in his hand, obviously in distress.

"that's fine Eddie. Take the time you need. We'll just go watch the game? Lucas is playing! Plus it's Y/N's final game." Dustin said excitedly, he's secretly been dying to watch her perform, hellfire always landed the same days as games so he never got to see her.

When Eddie first dated her, Dustin was the most supportive. He didn't give a shit if Eddie liked a cheerleader after all the talk he preached. She was different, it was easy to tell.

Eddie's head snapped up at her name.

"you want to watch my girlfriend?" Eddie questioned.

"duh! I've been dying to see the routines she's made. They sound totally badass but it's always the same as hellfire nights so I never got to go." Dustin shrugged. Having no idea his words were stabbing Eddie even deeper in his heart.

The boys raced out of the room, heading to the gym to catch the game and apparently Y/N's performance.

Eddie truly was the only one who still held on to his words of the popular world. His club didn't even give a shit he was dating a cheerleader, all excited to watch her perform. Now he felt like even more of an ass. Simply refusing to watch her because he was scared of what his club would think of him for going back on his words. An excuse that had no truth behind it.

The boys found the only open spot on the bleachers, quickly filling it with their bodies.

Mike, Gareth, and Jeff quickly searching for Lucas but Dustin was searching for Y/N.

A huge smile on his face when she spotted her stretching, head down not bothering to look at the crowd. Dustin waited for her to look up just once so he could wave, but she never did.

By the time Eddie quit his pity party he got up, collecting his backup and walking to the gym. He walked in the doorway, searching for an open seat but the gym was packed completely. He sighed and leaned against the wall. Maybe if he was a good boyfriend and showed up on time, he'd have a seat.

Eddie realized he was catching the end of the game. The cheerleaders were finishing their last routine. Eddie felt even more like shit, he missed the whole thing except for the final damn flip. Truly never once seeing his girlfriend do something she loved. He watched her closely, a smile of hers usually fixed everything. But the smile she had wasn't real, it looked fake and painful. He could see her blinking rapidly, a sign she was holding back tears. Eddie found himself blinking just as fast. Trying to ignore the burn in his throat.

He stood against the wall for the next ten minutes of what was left of the game. Once he heard the final buzzer go off, he watched as everyone cheered. Lucas was thrown in the air by the team. Eddie felt himself smile at one of his sheep getting supported, maybe the jocks weren't that horrible.

His smile quickly fell when the basketball team moved over, now seeing his girlfriend packing up her bag, alone. Eddie looked to the bleachers to see, in fact, every single cheerleader kissing their boyfriends. His shoulders somehow slumped even more, she wasn't lying. She was the only one on the team who had no one to congratulate her.

Eddie for once decided his pride wasn't worth it. He dropped his backpack on the floor, gathering as much courage as his pathetic body could manage. He went to move but stopped when he saw Dustin running to her. Hugging her from behind. He laughed a little as she jumped and screamed. "That fucker and his little crush."

Feeling arms wrapped around her was the last thing she expected. She jumped and screamed as she turned around.

"OMG DUSTIN!" she screamed trapping him in a bear hug. Dustin didn't even care that she was sweaty, hugging her tighter as she hugged him harder.

She looked over Dustin's shoulder to see the rest of hellfire behind him with big smiles.

"holy shit. What are you guys doing here?" She was confused, the campaign in no way could have been finished. Eddie kept them for hours in that room.

She couldn't wipe the smile off of her face though. Her heart is warming, she had people in the crowd that came to see her.

"Eddie was in a bad mood so he cancelled, so Dustin of course said we needed to come watch Lucas but I think he wanted to see you more." Mike joked.

Y/N laughed as Dustin's cheeks flared red.

"that's adorable." She squealed kissing his cheek. His face turned even redder, completely burning.

Y/N wishes that the good feeling lasted a bit longer, because now she realized, hellfire was cancelled, the boys were here, and Eddie wasn't with them.

Dustin knew once he saw the look in her eyes change what she was thinking.

"I think he went to the bathroom." Dustin quickly lied, not wanting to hurt her more with the truth that her boyfriend never showed up.

She nodded fast, not believing a word Dustin said. She knew Eddie, and Eddie did not show up.

"well I have to go change and head home with Chrissy. Thank you guys for coming. It means a lot." She cried happily, throwing them in a group hug. Waving goodbye as she walked to the locker room.

Dustin was racing out of the gym, marching to the parking lot for a specific van.

"did she ask?" Dustin jumped hearing a voice behind him, turning around to see Eddie against the school wall smoking a cigarette.

Dustin marched up and threw it on the ground.

"seriously Eddie? You are out here smoking instead of being with her?"

"I know okay? I was going to go but once I saw how happy she was when you all were there, I feel like I didn't deserve to ruin her moment."

"Eddie you wouldn't have ruined it. You would have made it better. She wanted you there. Now forget your goddamn stupid pride for one second, take out your balls, and make it up to your hot girlfriend that is way out of your league!" Dustin demanded his finger smashing right into Eddie's chest.

If Dustin wasn't saying something so true, Eddie might just have kicked his freshmen ass for talking to him that way.

But he was right, so Eddie nodded and turned to walk back into the school. His backpack was still in the gym so he walked to grab it. Stopping in his place when he saw Y/N searching the gym floor in a panic.

Eddie walked up behind her, the floor creaking underneath his sneakers.

"Chrissy did you find it? I need to find that ring. Eddie is going to kill me." She panicked, searching under every chair.

"I don't think he'd kill you. He definitely deserves to be killed though" He said. Watching her body freeze as she turned to see him standing there.

She stood up fast, dusting off her skirt. She never got to change, once she made it to the locker room she realized the necklace she wore with Eddie's ring on it was gone. The necklace she wore to every game underneath her uniform, just to have him there somewhere.

"I didn't mean to lose it." She panicked

"I don't even know which ring you are talking about. I promise it's not that big of a deal." He tried to make her feel better.

"NO IT IS A BIG DEAL. It's the only thing I have to pretend you are here with me and I need to find it " she demanded, back on her knees searching the floor.

Eddie couldn't believe how much harder each blow got in his gut. It was like watching a bomb destroy every building one by one. He was watching her fall apart more and more, all because of his pride.

He kneeled to the floor in front of her, grabbing her hands to stop her searching.

"I'm here now." He tried

She yanked her hands free

"doesn't matter now Eddie. I'm graduating and will never cheer again. At least now you won't have to listen to me fight to get you here "

He deserved that, he knew he did.

"I'm really fucking sorry." He whispered, sitting across from her.

"whatever Eddie." She said, following his actions. Sitting with her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly against her legs.

"no I mean it. I have been the most shitty boyfriend ever. Hellfire should never have come before you. My pride should have never been more important than you. I fucked up and I fucked up bad, I know that. The second the boys all cheered I cancelled hellfire and went to the game, I realized I was the only one stuck on my words. None of them cared I fell in love with you. They didn't care if you were a cheerleader and that I was a huge hypocrite. It was all in my head. And I should have been here to be there for you. You deserved to feel as special as you did tonight at every game. I made it to the end. I know that doesn't count for anything. But I am so happy my boys were there for you, when I was too proud to be. I don't even deserve you to even think of keeping me around. You should honestly dump me in the most cruel way possible. Slash my tires or something." He joked, smiling on the inside when she laughed, wiping the tears that were falling down her eyes

"but if for some reason you are just as dumb as me, and still allow me to be around you. I would really love to make this up to you." He finished, hand searching for hers once again. This time she didn't move it away.

"I might just be even more dumber than you are because I love you too." She joked, pushing her shoulder against his. He laughed with her, wiping his own tears.

"doesn't mean I forgive you though. You made me feel really shitty and I need some action to back up your words."

"absolutely baby. I totally understand." He said. Relief filling his body, he has one more chance.

"if you are up for it, I have the rest of my night open. Why don't you perform every single routine you came up with for me?" He offered.

A huge smile stretched on her face

"you really want to sit here as I do over like 15 routines?" She laughed

"as long as you keep the outfit on." He winked. Another smack to his shoulder but the way she smiled warmed his heart.

He has a chance to fix it, and he wasn't going to ruin that.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975@ago-godance

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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keeksandgigz · 11 months

Text

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you.

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working.

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?”

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain.

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble.

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte.

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot.

“I was just joking, dickhead”

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery.

Fuck. No white dot.

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee.

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure.

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white.

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you.

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry.

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second.

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry.

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell.

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting.

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor.

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious”

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile.

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip.

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close.

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses.

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done.

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak”

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way.

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found.

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home”

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you.

He was supposed to be on the schedule.

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs.

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato.

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit.

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7.

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on.

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie.

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen.

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans.

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps.

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-”

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls.

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately.

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist.

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?”

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere.

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts.

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you.

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time.

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message.

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you?

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp.

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say, barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles.

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up.

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

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