#i've been bottling up these feelings for seven months

[gretavangroupie]

Edible

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Drugs. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink (if you squint), Cum Play. Major Fluff.

A/N: The very last part of our four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Jake's story to wrap things up! Thank you so much for reading these one shots over the last few weeks, maybe we will do it again soon! ❤️

Usually, Valentine’s day wasn’t a holiday that bothered you. As a single person in your mid 20’s, it’s almost expected that you dread the 14th of February. The years before and between relationships never bothered you, but as you slip into your pajamas at 7:50pm on a Friday night that also happens to be Valentine’s day, the realization that you’re alone hits a little harder.

You shuffle down the stairs in your slippers and matching PJ set, your destination being the bottle of red wine in the fridge. As you stand in front of the door and look at the dry erase calendar on your freezer, you avoid acknowledging the little heart you drew around the number 14 when you were clearly in better spirits. You also happen to see the little sticker that lives permanently above the column of Fridays. Trash day.

Letting your head fall back, you groan at the ceiling before turning on your heel towards the trash can. Lifting the half-full bag out and tying it off, you consider whether or not you really need to take the bin out to the curb… It’s so, so cold, and you’ve had a tough day already.

Shaking your head, you pull yourself out of your thoughts and decide to grow up. You get moving and elbow the door open, wincing as the cold air hits your skin. The short sleeve shirt and matching shorts combination are really not on your side at this moment as you jog down the four stairs towards the spot where your trash bins live. 

It’s a minute of wrestling before you get the bag in and flip the top closed, grabbing the handle and beginning to wheel it towards the end of your driveway. The rattling of the plastic wheels is so damn loud you feel like you’re waking up half your neighborhood. Oh, wait. They’re probably all out for Valentine’s day. You can’t help but roll your eyes as you kick the bin upright and position it on the patch of grass near the curb.

As you’re about to turn and head inside, you hear rumbling coming from across the street. When you raise your head and try to focus despite the limited light from the streetlamps and the clouded moon, you see your neighbor from across the street. For a moment you feel a little vulnerable in your pajama set, legs bare and no bra, but then you see he’s shirtless, a thin bathrobe over his shoulders and down his back, but it’s hanging open, giving way to show you his tanned chest and stomach. His sweatpants are hanging sinfully low on his hips, and even though you’re all the way across the street, you can see there’s just a tiny bit of hair peeking out from above his waistband.

He has his head down as he does almost the same exact thing you did- he shimmies the bin into position on the curb and makes sure it’s closed tight, left with some defense against the wind. His hair is in a low, messy bun, some stray strands of hair framing his face. 

As you stare at him from the shadows across the street, realizing you’re probably giving off way weirder vibes than intended, you think back on when you’ve seen him and try to remember his face. As you think, there’s a silhouette of a cat in his front window, a warm glow behind it. And then the memory comes to you.

There was one afternoon when you had first moved in, the summer, seven or eight months ago. He came and knocked on your door, a pair of sunglasses on, his shirt unbuttoned and paired with some breezy linen pants. You answered the door in confusion, but were friendly regardless.

“Hi. I’m, uh, I’m Jake. I’m your neighbor. I live across the street?” He said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. 

“Right, right. Hey. I’m Y/N.” You answered with a slightly concerned smile. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, um,” he started, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger as he gathered his thoughts. You watched as he crossed his arms over his chest in almost a nervous habit. 

“Do you wanna come in?” You offered, but he shook his head no, waving you off casually.

“No, no. I actually just have a weird and maybe cumbersome favor to ask of you.” He said, his confidence building as the conversation went on. You raised your eyebrows, a little confused, but wordlessly encouraging him to go on.

“There’s this cat that lives in my house and I usually leave him with my brother’s girl when I travel, but she’s actually tagging along, so I’m kind of in a pinch and need someone to feed the thing.” He said. You gave him a look of playful confusion.

“That’s a weird way to say you have a cat.” You quipped, laughing.

“I’m not keeping it! I just don’t want it to get hungry or get hit by a car or something.” He said, laughing through his words. Before you can poke any more fun at him, he keeps talking.

“He’s a grazer, so he really just needs his big ass bowl refilled once a day and he’ll be fine,” he said, flashing you a little smile. “And water.”

You considered it for a moment, but he had such a way about him that there was no way you would be able to say no.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. For how long?” You asked, leaning on the door frame. He fished out a key from his pocket, handing it over as he spoke. It was brass and there was a little soccer ball keychain attached. 

“Just for the weekend. I’ll be back Sunday night.” He said with a little excitement in his voice. Holding his spare key in your hand, you nodded and gave him a polite smile.

“I can do that. For sure.” You reassured him as he leaned from foot to foot, almost like he had somewhere to be. 

“I fed him just now and I’m about to head out, but when you go in, the kitchen is on the left and his bowl is there. The food is in the bin with… with the food. It’s clear so… you can see it.” He said, taking a few steps backwards. “He also bites, but he’ll probably hide from you anyway, so don’t sweat it!” He added, jogging down the two stairs to the sidewalk. 

“O-okay!” You answered, perplexed but charmed. He shouted across the road to thank you before he hopped into his car and backed out of his driveway.

When you eventually went over to his house the next day, you opened the door cautiously, not wanting to sneak up on the cat who you were warned would bite you. After a moment of wondering why you agreed to this, you shrugged and pushed the door open gently. As if the cat was waiting for Jake himself but then realized it was you, he went flying by so quickly you only heard the thump of his paws and the jingle of his collar. Your eyes almost immediately found the big bowl in the kitchen, sitting in the middle of a little placemat. ‘DAVY’ was etched into the porcelain, so you figured it had to be his. Like Jake mentioned, there was the bin of food about a foot away. 

You didn’t see the cat a single time that weekend. Sunday morning, after you fed him the last time, you left the key on the hook near Jake’s front door and locked it from the inside. You didn’t hear from him, but one day when you got home from work, there was a bottle of wine on your welcome mat with a card underneath, wax sealed with care. Inside, you found a card with a short note of thanks and his name signed in indigo ink. 

You’re pulled back to the present as a car flies down your street, headlights flashing in your peripherals. The light pulls his attention too, and it’s seconds before he notices you across the street. He raises one open hand, giving you a casual wave. You smile and wave your hand back and forth, a polite, neighborly greeting. 

“Look at you, all dressed up. Big plans tonight?” He says, projecting his voice all the way across the street. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, realizing he’s absolutely calling you out for being outside in your pajamas. 

“Oh! Ha. Yeah.” you say, the laugh incredibly forced, your nerves turning you into an awkward, stiff mess. Freezing cold, nervous, and a little embarrassed, you give him another quick wave and scurry inside your house, disappearing. You close the door and snatch the bottle of wine from your fridge, taking the bottle and glass with you into the living room. 

You practically dive under the blanket on your sofa and wrap it around you in a hurry. As you reach for the bottle of wine and pour yourself a little glass, you hear your phone buzz from somewhere in the couch cushions. Fishing it out from under your thigh and some layers of blanket, you squint and turn the brightness down immediately.

You have a few notifications from instagram and other apps, and one text from an unsaved number.

???

8:08pm: Sorry for being weird, lol

It has to be Jake. You hop up from the couch and shuffle to the bulletin board and dry-erase calendar on your freezer to see the torn piece of paper pinned to it. Comparing the two numbers, you confirm it’s the same. That leaves you frozen as you try to figure out how to respond.

You

8:10pm: Oh no worries, you were right. I’m clearly staying in tonight 🍷

When you get back to the couch, nuzzling yourself back under your blankets, you look over your shoulder and out the window at his house. There are a few lights on and the cat’s silhouette has disappeared from the window.

You decide to save his number quickly before finally taking a few sips of your wine. 

Jake - Neighbor

8:13pm: Likewise. I’m about to take an edible and spend the rest of my romantic evening falling down a youtube wormhole. 

Laughing, you think of something clever to send back. It takes a while because everything you come up with seems to be toeing the line of flirty and friendly. 

You

8:17pm: Sounds fun... If you open your curtains a little more I could probably watch along. 🙂

Jake - Neighbor

8:20pm: Or you could accompany me down said wormhole, meaning we both won’t have to lie about being alone on Valentine’s day tomorrow?

You’re immediately conflicted. This guy is your neighbor, and although he seems friendly, this feels like the beginning of a terrible Hallmark movie or even worse, one that went straight to Netflix. You think about the invitation as you stare at your glass of wine on the coffee table next to your kindle. It couldn’t hurt to just go hang out for a little while… right? It would be good to get to know him. Maybe you could convince him to mow your lawn over the summer or something.

Not to mention he’s cute. Your mind flashes back to the way he looked glowing under the streetlights, his messy bun and the tan line on his hips that you need to stop thinking about before your mouth begins to water. 

You

8:21pm: Lol are you serious? I don’t want to intrude 

You bite at your lip nervously, waiting for him to reply. The little bubbles that indicate he’s typing make your stomach churn as you look over your shoulder and out the window once more. There’s a little bit of a glow coming from the other side of his house now and you see his shadow move across the window.

Jake - Neighbor

8:22pm: It’s not intruding if I’m inviting you. 

It doesn’t take much convincing on his end, if any. You down the last of your wine for courage and ditch the blanket on the couch. Heading up the stairs, you grab the cardigan you left hanging over the banister and pick out something to wear. The matching jammies clearly aren’t appropriate, but you don’t want to dress like you’re trying too hard. 

You

8:25pm: Should I bring anything?

Standing in your closet for a few minutes, you ultimately land on a pair of yoga pants and an old t-shirt, a soft baby blue Rush tee with the band’s name spelled out in big, rainbow bubble letters. It was once your dad’s, but lives in your wardrobe as a slightly cropped version now.

Jake - Neighbor

8:26pm: Nope. Just yourself. Need the address? 😉

Pulling on the cardigan, you tug the back of it down a little to assure you’re not showing up with your ass on display from the get-go. You stand at the door with nothing but your phone and keys, bracing yourself for however this Valentine’s night is about to go.

You

8:28pm: I think I remember how to get there. I’m on my way 🙂

—

You pull your sleeves down over your hands as you climb the steps to his porch, the freezing cold wind whipping through your cardigan as if it wasn’t even there. You rap your knuckles against the wooden door, a small wave of nerves rushing through your body as you wait for him to answer. You hear his footfall against the wooden floors as he makes his way to the door, and as he opens it you feel a rush of warmth as the heat from inside blows past you. 

His eyes subconsciously look you over and as he realizes he pulls his eyes away, letting them dart around for a few seconds before landing on your face. He offers a shy grin and swallows down his nerve. “Any trouble finding the place?” he jokes, giving you a small glimpse of his real smile. 

“Oh yeah, traffic was awful...” you quip back, watching his full smile bloom across his face. 

“Come in, come in. I know it’s cold out there.” he says, ushering you inside. The house is very different from the last time you’d seen it. More art on the walls, a new rug or two, and most importantly there were lights on. A fire is going in the fireplace, the logs crackling drawing you into his home further.

“Your home is beautiful. I’m suddenly insanely jealous that I don't have a fireplace.” you smile, gesturing towards the beautiful brick hearth. 

“Thanks, I try to do what I can here and there. What’s a home if you can’t enjoy the time you spend in it…” he ponders, suddenly flicking his attention back to you. “I could…show you around if you want, it’s kind of a mess at the moment…” he pauses, rubbing his fingers over his lips as his eyes scan the room. You can tell he is feeling put on the spot and your chest warms at his underlying hospitality. 

“That’s okay, I know you were totally not planning on having a guest.” you laugh, hoping to ease his anxiety. 

“Yeah, I’m not here too often, and when I am, things kind of get strewn around and forgotten. It’s actually a fluke that I’m here now. Which brings me back to the part about enjoying the house while I’m here.” he says, trying to unnecessarily justify his lived in space. 

Your mind wanders as you recall his empty driveway the past few weeks, and you try to piece together if you ever remember him mentioning what he does for work, or why he’s gone so often. You hardly ever see him coming and going, just the glow from his windows on rare occasions.

He pulls you from your thoughts and you refocus on him, realizing that he too, has changed into different clothes. He’s added a slightly wrinkled black button down shirt to a pair of equally as wrinkled khaki pants, rolled at the ankle. To anyone else this would seem like a strange choice to hang out on the couch, but on him it seemed fitting, almost like these were his relaxing clothes. 

“Can I get you anything to drink, or?” he asks, gesturing towards the kitchen, a tiny little sliver of his stomach peeking from beneath the frayed hem, showcasing an unseasonably dark tan.

“Sure, um I will take some water?” you squeak out, trying to pretend you weren’t just staring at his waist. 

“Okay, you can just… sit wherever. I'll be right back.” he says nodding towards the couch. He walks off into the kitchen as you venture into his living room, the fireplace providing the perfect ambience for such a cold night. His couch isn’t huge, but it does seem comfortable. A few throw pillows are tossed to one side, giving you the hint that he was previously occupying the other side. You move a few of the pillows towards the center and position yourself at the opposite side on the chaise lounge, as you let your eyes glance around the room. The walls are dark and covered with art, and bookshelves line most of the walls. A large TV sits just to the left of the fireplace, the video he was previously watching paused and awaiting his return. 

You relax into the couch cushions, closing your eyes and listening to the perfect crackling sound of the fireplace. The glass of wine from earlier is seeping into your bones and you’re suddenly feeling just a little bit more relaxed. Jake returns a few seconds later, offering you a glass filled to the brim with ice water. 

“I didn’t know if you wanted ice or not, so I just made it how I like it.” he says, falling back into his place on the couch. He tosses a few of the throw pillows between you, down onto the ground so that there is less of a barrier, before kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. 

“Where’s your little kitty cat?” you ask, turning to face him. “Or did you find him a home after all…”

“Who? Ol’ Davy Jones?” he asks, an air of underlying affection in his tone. “Ahh, that little vagrant is around here somewhere. Truthfully, I just haven’t even had time to think about finding him a home.”

You smile because you can tell he is lying. “That’s funny, because it’s been what? Almost a year now?”

“Has it… Hmmm.” he says, staring off into space. “I’m sure he’ll be around, he’s a curious little thing.” 

“You know they say that you shouldn’t name pets that you don’t plan to keep…” you press, raising an eyebrow in challenge. 

“Well…” he pauses. You can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to piece together an excuse. “He wasn’t responding to ‘hey you feline’, so I was practically forced into giving him a name. You know how these things go. I really am going to find him a good home one of these days when I have the time.”

You nod your head with a smile, as he shakes his own head, stifling back a guilty grin. 

“So that is why he has a food bowl with his name on it, right?” 

“Aye, aye, what’s with the twenty questions, hm?” he barks, tossing a throw pillow towards you. You catch it and hug it to your chest, resettling into your place. 

“Oh, no reason. Just trying to get to know my neighbor and his cat, that’s all.” you say with a cheeky smile. 

“He’s not my cat. He just lives in my house.” he says finally, feigning arrogance. “Anyways, tell me about you…”

“Not a whole lot to know, I just moved here, well almost a year ago now, for work. I go to work, come home, watch trashy TV and cook, and sometimes on the weekends I catch some friends at the bar. I also occasionally feed my neighbor's cat. Oh, and spend most holidays alone, which is how I ended up here.” you laugh, not wanting to give too much away. 

“Well, I’m glad that you did, I’m rather enjoying having company for once. Listen, I was serious about the edible if you…” he trails off, nervously licking over his lips.

“Oh, yeah of course. Let’s do it.”

He stands from the couch, walking across the room and rummaging around in a backpack on the floor. The first thing he pulls out is an eyeglass case, tucking it under his arm. Then he reaches back in, searching for a moment more, before he pulls out a small black bag and returns to the couch, opening it up as he sits. He places the black glasses case on the table, then picks it up again, making sure there are actually glasses inside before closing it and putting it aside for later.

“Oh Jesus, Josh…” he mutters under his breath. He licks his lips and turns to look at you. “Okay, so, apparently they are peach ring gummies. My brother gave them to me, but didn’t specify the variety.”

“That’s actually fine, I love peach rings.” you blush. 

“Really? Okay, good. I thought–” he stops himself with a smile. “Okay, ladies first, how much do you want?

“Um, how much are you gonna have?” you ask, letting your eyes flick up to his. 

“Dunno…” he says, inspecting the bag for the details. “Okay, probably half. You think you can do half, or do you want a quarter?”

“I think it should be an even playing field, I’ll do half if you do half.” you answer. 

“Whatever you say…” he says with a smile, trying to pull apart the sticky yellow and orange gummy. It stretches beyond belief and he stops. “Okay, so. I think you’re going to have to bite it.”

“Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Yeah, it’s no big deal, you just take half and I’ll take the rest.” he says, leaning over to place it in your hand. You bring it to your lips, biting half of the gummy with your eyes locked on him. He doesn’t dare blink as he watches your mouth, the sugar crystals collecting on your lips. You see him swallow as you pull it from your lips and hand the remainder back to him. He quickly pops it into his mouth and starts to chew. 

Both of you look at each other as you swallow it down, sour looks on both of your faces as the flavor of the strain shines through. 

“That was… not my favorite gummy I’ve ever had.” he winces, clearing his mouth of the flavor. 

“I think it was okay…I’ve definitely had worse.” you laugh, taking a sip from your glass of water. 

“I can’t believe I traded my good blunts for that.” he says, thinking back with a shake of his head. “So, what do you think we should watch? A movie? A TV show? Youtube?” he rattles off. 

“What would you watch if I wasn’t sitting here right now?” you ask, leaning your body into the arm rest. 

His demeanor quickly changes, his cheeks blushing and his tone growing a bit bashful. “If you weren’t here? Um, probably just youtube videos.” he answers, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. 

“Okay, but what kind of youtube videos? What fascinates you…”

He fidgets with the buttons on the remote, trying to decide if he should lie or be honest. His eyes flick up to the TV, then over to you. “Mostly history stuff, like old shipwrecks and stuff. Or maybe sailing videos or guitar videos, I don’t know.”

You can tell he chose to be honest, his fingers still scratching at the buttons on the remote as he waits to see what you’re going to say. 

“Okay so do it. Show me your favorite shipwreck. Enlighten me a little…”

“Really?” he asks, a look of shock painted across his face. 

“Yeah, why not? I like that kind of stuff too. It’s interesting.”

“Yeah, yeah it is really interesting. Okay, hold on.” he grins, clicking the remote to life and returning to youtube. He scrolls to his favorites and makes his way through what has to be a hundred videos, until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Alright, I know this is a little bit boring at the beginning, but I swear it gets better. I actually learned about this first hand at this little museum in the UK last year, and I really fixated on it, and had to immediately consume every piece of media I could find about it. If you hate it we can turn it off, it’s just… really cool if you can make it through it.” he explains, and you smile watching his eyes light up talking about it. 

You smile and nod as he clicks on the video titled, ‘Ghosts of the Mary Rose’. He settles back into the couch, balancing the remote on his knee, and slinging his arm across the back of the couch. You can’t help but notice the proximity of his fingertips as they rest just inches away from your shoulder. The fireplace is still roaring, and the edible is starting to kick in, and you come to terms with the fact there is no place you’d rather be than sitting here learning about this old boat.

Oddly enough, Jake wasn’t wrong. This was one of the cooler shipwrecks you’d learned about, and the fact that he saw it in person made it even better. He proceeded to talk through most of the video, further extrapolating on the points they were making, but explaining them better, in a way that was so purely Jake. 

It was clear history was a passion of his, his eyes simply glowing with pride as he spoke about what he knew about this wreck and others similar. You could tell that he was dying for someone, just anyone, to ask him a single question about it, and tonight, you gave him that and more. 

You wondered if he had people in his life that indulged him on this regularly, or if he kept it bottled up inside. The way he spoke about it so quickly, stumbling over his words just to get them out, had you thinking that maybe it was the latter, and you suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of him ever feeling lonely. 

After what had to be an hour or so, the gummy had met its full potential in your bloodstream. The two of you sat almost mute, staring at the TV screen as he selected videos for you to dive into, but little did he know that it wasn’t the TV you were fixated on. It was the glaring image of his hands as they reflected into the mirror hanging over his fireplace. You watched as they moved, the way his fingers wielded the remote, and the way his fingers would twitch every so often, quickly stifled back by the folding of his hands. You stopped yourself from turning your head to look at them, knowing that if you did you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away. 

They seemed large. Slightly larger than the average man’s hands, but they also seemed well manicured. Perfectly manicured actually, as if they were his top priority in his grooming habits. His nails were perfectly trimmed, no nicks or cuts, just perfectly tanned hands that tapped away against his thighs. You pulled your eyes away from the mirror to reach for your water, the dry mouth starting to take effect. 

You drank down half of the glass, and you could almost feel his eyes on you as you did so. You placed the glass back down, and allowed yourself one look at him, finding that you were correct in the feeling of his eyes fixed on you. His entire mood had shifted, you could tell he was feeling completely relaxed as he lounged on his couch. His eyes were a little red, slightly droopier than usual, and his cheeks flushed pink. His legs were crossed on the coffee table, and his bare foot bobbed along to the sound of the video playing in the background. 

You’re not sure if it's the fireplace, the edible, or the man sitting next to you devouring you with his eyes, but you start to feel warm and need to remove your sweater before you burst into flames. You pull the knitted fabric over your arms, and toss it to the floor, leaving you in just your cut off tee, and you swear you see his eyes widen a bit as he takes in the sight of your torso.

In the silence, you hear a faint jingling. He doesn’t seem to notice, but you do, and your eyes shoot to the entryway. His cat trots into the room, probably only expecting Jake, but as soon as he lays eyes on you, he puffs up and hops straight up into the air, then bolts back the way he came, his paws skittering across the floor in a flurry.

The sound makes Jake’s head turn, pulling his eyes from your body and over towards the source of the noise.

“Oh my god, he’s real…” You say in amazement, a smile creeping onto your lips. Jake rolls his eyes at the cat’s dramatics, leaning back to see if he can catch where he went.

“Daaaavvvyyyy…” he calls out in a faux-cockney accent, his voice low and gravelly, rumbling through the house. You would be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make your stomach flip.

“He’s not a fan of me, I don’t think.” You comment, looking in the direction the tiny black cat ran. 

“Don’t think he likes anyone but me, honestly. Bites and scratches the absolute hell out of my brother’s girlfriend whenever she watches him for me.” He says with a chuckle, craning his neck to try and see the cat. He makes a quiet pspspsps sound, but Davy is nowhere to be seen or heard.

“When I found ‘em, he was under a dumpster behind a… a bar.” He says, sitting back up to look at you. “He was practically shouting at me as I walked by, like he was calling for help. So I walked over thinking it was like, a fuckin’ baby or something. I don’t know.”

You grin as he tells the story, which you’re finding quite endearing. 

“He called you over? Oh, he’s bold.” 

“Sure is. So I wrapped him up in my shirt and put him in the passenger seat… he seemed too little to eat the crunchy little cat food, so I went to the store and got some milk… I didn’t fuckin’ know what to do.” He chuckles and itches his nose, his eyes flicking to yours as he realizes you’re invested in the story and listening with bated breath. 

“We got home and he drank some… had a little milk mustache and everything. He seemed to feel better when I got him into the heat, so I made him a deal. He could sleep in the bathroom for the night if he hit the road and left town the next morning.”

“I see that worked out.” You quip, giving him a knowing smile.

“Yeah, the five-pound rapscallion didn’t hold up his end. Owes me a thousand souls now.” 

You hum with raised brows as you nod, letting him go on. 

“I actually…” he starts, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket he taps and scrolls as he talks. “I actually woke up the next morning and caught the poor thing asleep in a pair of me old dirty trousers.” He says, a little bit of that accent slipping in again. He turns his phone around and shows you a photo of Davy curled into a tiny ball inside a pair of patchwork denim pants, a few different shades of blue.

“Oh my god…” you mumble, popping out your bottom lip.

“Lookit his tail over his nose. How was I supposed to show ‘em the door?” He says, flashing you a grin. 

“But you’re still gonna rehome him, huh?” You shoot in his direction, your tone accusatory.

“Should we watch something else? Got any requests?” he asks, gesturing toward the TV with the remote.

“Mmm, you said you liked guitar videos, right? What’s your favorite guitar video of all time?” you ask, crossing your ankles as you stretch out on the chaise. 

“That is quite the loaded question, lass.” he quips, tapping the remote to his lips. His full, pink, totally kissable lips. Wait, he’s your neighbor. You have to stop. 

“Can you narrow it down to a genre?” he asks, flicking his eyes over to you. He takes a deep breath and bites his lips together waiting for your answer. 

“How about…I don’t know, rock? Rock n’ Roll, specifically.” you smirk. 

“I know a thing or two.” he chuckles, scrolling through his favorites. 

“Ahh, okay this one. This one right here. This man was instrumental in my–” he stops, clearing his throat. “He is one of the greatest musicians I’ve ever witnessed.” he finishes.

“Oh, who is it?” you ask, watching him select the video. 

“Pete Townshend.” he answers, starting the video. “He is an incredible guitarist, but that isn’t what makes him great in my opinion. He has this special ability to write insanely powerful rock songs where the guitar isn’t the main focus, or even the main instrument. His work with The Who is just… He isn’t flashy just for the show of it, because he didn’t have to be. His skill speaks for itself and that in itself is an accomplishment.”

“Wow, you know a lot about him. Would you say he is your favorite, then?” you ask. 

“Ahh, I don’t know. I have a lot of favorites. A lot of influences I suppose. Lots of people who shaped me.” he answers, and slowly but surely you start to realize he is letting you know him more and more with each passing second, and you’re hanging on his every word. 

“Shaped you?” you ask, trying to squeeze yourself through the tiny crack in his armor. 

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom. You need anything while I’m up?” he says, standing up slowly and effectively shutting you out. His half smile is a little guilty, which tells you he’s well aware of what he just did. 

“I’m okay.” You answer, giving him a knowing smile as he shuffles out of the room, the sound of his bare feet on the hardwood the only sound under the music playing quietly from the tv.

It’s a minute or two before he gets back and this time when he comes to sit on the couch, he lays across the cushions on his stomach, grabbing the pillow to your left and tucking it between his arm and his head. He’s so, so close to you now, the smell of his shampoo making its way over to you when he nuzzles his head against the pillow. Once he’s completely comfortable, he takes a deep breath and then speaks softly.

“I’m a musician. So. When I said ‘shaped me,’ I meant it almost literally.” His voice sounds a little different when his cheek is smushed into the throw pillow.

“So I’m guessing you play guitar?” you say, blinking up at the TV as the man on the screen’s fingers crawl across the frets.

“I do.” He says it simply, but not in a way that’s short. You look down at his right hand, bent at the elbow and holding on to the pillow. At this distance, you can see there’s a little indent around his middle finger, like he wears a ring of some sort.

“I don’t really have any… creative talents. So I think that’s really impressive.” Your words are quiet and you’re trying to coax him back out of his shell. He lifts his head from the pillow, and when he’s looking up at you from below, his glassy brown eyes are enough to make your heart melt. You have to blink a few times through the brain fog to really focus on them, and when you do, your pulse quickens.

“I’m sure that’s not true. What do you do?” He asks softly, and luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re staring at him.

“It’s very true. I’m an accountant.” You answer, laugh bubbling out of you at the absurdity of it all. “Literally the opposite of creative.” 

He breaks into a grin, laughing with you for a second or two, and you think it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. 

“...Alright. You got me there. We can watch something else…” He says, looking for the remote, and you mourn the loss of eye contact. 

“No, no! I wanted you to pick something you’d watch even if I wasn’t here, and you did. Plus, I kinda like your commentary. This stuff is all new to me.” You say, and he chuckles softly. He rests his head on the pillow again, his arm grazing yours unintentionally. He pays it no mind.

“If you say so.” 

After another two videos accompanied by Jake’s narration, you find yourself so hungry, you think you might be withering away. When there’s a lull in his commentary, you whisper into the dim room from behind him. 

“Is it normal to feel like I need a snack so urgently I might pass away?” 

He stretches a little, rolling over to look at you again. You give him a slow smile, your eyes squinting as your cheeks push them closed. 

“I can go see what I have… It’s been a minute since I’ve been home but there’s probably–”

“No!” You interject, sitting up a little more. He jumps at the motion, a little startled. “I have this tray of chocolate covered strawberries in my fridge! My coworker called in today, and her boyfriend sent her like two dozen of them, so obviously I brought them home.” 

“Oh hell yeah.” He answers, smiling back at you. 

“I’ll be right back!” You say excitedly, hopping off the couch and swiping your keys off the table. You quickly slip on your shoes and head for the front door, darting out into the cold night. 

It’s not long before you’re kicking the refrigerator door shut and sneaking back out into the windy February air. As you cross the street you see his door open, and once you’re close enough, you duck inside. He takes the box from you right away as he shuts the door.

After putting it down on the table near his front door, he reaches for your bare arms, rubbing them to warm you up. He laughs softly as you smile up at him.

“You didn’t bring your sweater, you absolute maniac…” he chides playfully, and you laugh in response, a chill running up your spine. His hands are so warm and his presence so comforting that you find yourself resisting the urge to wrap yourself up in him.

“I didn’t think it would be that cold.” you mumble, trying to keep your teeth from chattering.

“Oh, you thought the cold snap had just let up suddenly?” he asks with a sarcastic inflection, and you roll your eyes with a smile as he lets go of your arms. “Figured it was probably a cozy 27 degrees instead of 22?” 

You pick the strawberries back up and walk past him, back toward the living room to take your seat again. Before you can offer him a snarky retort, he’s quickly heading up the stairs of his old house, taking them two at a time as they creak and crack. Footsteps sound from above you, moving in one direction and then the other, before he’s coming back down slower than he had ascended. When he appears in the entryway of the living room, he’s holding the biggest, plushest navy blue down comforter you’ve ever seen in both of his arms. He’s peeking over and around it as he navigates behind the coffee table, careful not to trip or bump into something. 

“What’s all this?” You ask, laughing at the sight before you as you sit criss-crossed on the chaise, the container of strawberries still sitting in your lap, uneaten. 

“The comforter from my bed, obviously.” He answers, snatching the berries from you once more and putting them on the coffee table. You groan, but it’s short lived, as he drops the entire giant comforter overtop of you. He arranges it to wrap you inside of it, letting your head peek out. He tucks it under your thighs and tugs it closed across your chest. 

“Thank you,” you mumble through a tight-lipped smile, finding him a little ridiculous, but also thoughtful and sweet. He plops down next to you, sitting similarly to you with his legs crossed, the box of strawberries between you. He opens them and offers you one by the stem, which you graciously accept. 

You take a bite, quickly moving your hand under your chin to catch any of the chocolate cracking and falling. You moan a little at the taste, smiling at him when his eyes cut to yours. 

He takes a bite of his own, his approach for avoiding a mess a little different than yours. His bite is so big that it takes him a while to chew through it, eventually speaking with some still in his mouth. 

“I don’t know who the fuck decided these are supposed to be a romantic food.” He has a little bit of chocolate in his mustache and you can’t help but giggle, his tongue quickly darting out to lick it. “I’ve never had a more difficult time eating anything in my goddamn life.” He says, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest.

You’re so far under the influence and feeling so content from finally getting your hands on the sweets you were craving, all you can do is giggle in response. It’s the kind of giggle that lingers, when the joke is probably forgotten. He’s watching you with one raised brow as you cover your mouth and try to stop it. 

He eventually joins you, unable to resist the contagious, almost delusional snickering coming from you under the giant blanket across from him. It’s a sweet, silly moment, and it feels effortless. You spend the next few minutes chewing and laughing and stealing glances at him in secret. The edible has you at a point where you’re not sure if you’re speaking out loud or thinking the words in your head. So then, the question you’re considering asking him just slips out. 

“Why are you so tan in February?” You laugh, realizing it was a little forward of you to just ask out of nowhere. Luckily, you’re met with a stoned giggle of his own before he swallows and answers.

“I… went to a music festival in South America last week.” He says, eyes flicking up to yours, almost like he’s trying to see if you believe him.

“See anyone good?” You pry, your cheeks a little flushed the more you stare at him and catalog his mannerisms.

“Nobody you’d know.” He says, and you take him at his word. He smiles reassuringly, even though you don’t believe him, and it makes you giggle some more.

Eventually, it settles down and it’s just occasional quiet laughs cutting through the quiet of the room. He reaches for another strawberry and you realize it’s a little too quiet. You turn your head towards the tv, the last video having ended, and the countdown to the next one descending from 15. You squint your eyes a little to see what’s about to play next.

Rig Rundown: Greta Van Fleet [2021] is the title. But what really throws you is the thumbnail. The image is an older guy with coiffed silver hair, smiling and pointing at… Jake? He’s got a smug smile on his face, an arm on this other guy’s shoulder, and his hair down, which you think you’ve seen only once. He’s in a navy blue blazer with a hand on his hip, a guitar hanging across the front of his body. 

“...Is that you?”

10…9…8…

“Huh?” Jake says as he looks up at you from the box of strawberries, his mouth full, a stem pinched between his two fingers. He sees where you’re looking and follows your gaze towards the TV as it counts down. 

7…6…5…

“Oh, fuck–” 

You quickly grab the remote control from the end of the coffee table, trying to find the OK button so it will start playing sooner. Jake panics, tossing the carton of berries onto the table with reckless abandon. He lunges towards you, so you hide the remote inside the comforter along with as much of yourself as you can.

“No!” He shouts playfully, grabbing at the blanket and trying to unravel you. He kneels on the edge of the chaise, knocking you over and trying to get to your hands and arms under the layers and layers of soft, fluffy blankets.

“You have… to let… me watch it!” You argue with a laugh, avoiding his grasp. You finally decide to raise the remote all the way over your head, almost over the edge of the couch. He leans forward over top of you, his weight balanced on his palm next to your head.

“Hand it over.” He says, attempting to be stern, but there’s a smile pulling at his lips. A little jingle begins to play, and you can’t see the screen, but you’re positive the video is starting. You adjust the remote in your hand and crank the volume as he stares down at you. His eyes linger on your lips, then your eyes, then your lips again. His stare is only broken when he realizes it’s getting louder. A riff starts to fill the room, a song you can’t say you’ve ever heard before, and he huffs, reaching for the remote again.

You’re a little distracted watching him on the screen over his shoulder, his long hair and unbuttoned shirt and the way his hands look wrapped around the neck of the guitar. He snatches the remote from you with an extra stretch of his arm and you giggle softly. “Oh my god…” 

“Hey, hey! I’m John from Premier Guitar, and I’m here with Jake Kiszka from–”

Jake pauses the video, falling back into his seat on the couch. His head lolls to the side and he looks at you with a playful, annoyed glare. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why the hell are you doing guitar interviews?”

“I told you I’m a musician.” He says, a little short, lifting the remote to exit the video.

“No, no, wait!” You plead, reaching for his forearm to lower it. “Just let me watch, like, a minute.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “If you don't, I'll just go home and watch it anyway.” 

He groans, mumbling a barely there “fine,” begrudgingly before pressing play and letting the guy continue.

“Greta Van Fleet! Jake, congratulations! Since I last saw you, you won a grammy! Or two grammys?” 

“Yeah, one…” 

“You have a fucking GRAMMY?” You exclaim as the video continues to play. You turn and look at him, but his eyes are on the screen, squinting with what you can tell is embarrassment. 

“Are you gonna talk through your allotted one minute of watching or what?” He says, giving you a little warning look. You grin, turning your attention back to the screen. As the guy goes on and on, you realize this isn’t the part you want to watch. 

“Can we skip past this guy? He talks a lot. This is not how I want to use my minute.” You bargain, and he just offers you the remote silently with a smirk. 

You fast forward a little until you see he’s about to play. It’s a few seconds of him playing something else you’ve never heard, and then he speaks.

“It’s hotter, it’s a bit hotter…”

You smirk with wide eyes, looking at him in your peripherals.

“Shut up.” He says, closing his eyes like he simply can’t watch any more. You laugh at his dramatics, and when he hears it he can’t help but crack a smile. His cheeks are rosy and you look back at the screen, eyes trying to decide on what part of him to land on. 

“This guy…” You start, shaking your head a little.

“He’s a bit much.” Jake says, looking over at you with a half smile. 

“He’s so sweaty!” You add, laughing through your words. 

He lets you watch for more than a minute. He makes a few comments, scoffing at himself, even running his hand over his face a few times. You can tell it’s a little painful for him, but you’re in your glory. You reach for another strawberry as you look over at his embarrassed face.

“So this is why you’re never here…” you say, turning the volume down a little. “And the music festival…”

“Yep. That would be the reason.” He says softly, sniffing a little as he watches. You turn to look at him and his eyes flick up to yours, his gaze traveling straight to your lips. There's a flicker in his eyes, and you hardly comprehend that his hand is moving towards your face. You feel his thumb swipe softly against your bottom lip, a tiny smear of chocolate on the tip of his digit. Your tongue immediately licks over the place his thumb was, tasting the sugary sweetness of the chocolate that was once there. He places his thumb between his lips, licking the chocolate from his own finger, while his eyes stay locked on yours. 

“Somehow, it’s even sweeter.” he breathes letting his hand drop from his lips. He settles back into the couch cushions resting his head on his hand as he looks at you. You can hardly pull your eyes away from his as your heart races in your chest, the video in the background long forgotten. 

“Tell me why you’re alone on Valentine’s day…” he murmurs, his pink lips barely parting to let the words escape.

“You tell me why you are…” you counter, blinking slowly as you stare at him.

He bites his lips together as he tosses around the words in his head. He clicks his tongue against his teeth as he starts to speak. “Well, to be honest… I’ve had trouble finding someone that can live with the burden of my lifestyle. It’s a lot to ask of someone. ”

“Burden?” you ask. 

“Yeah, that’s the word that always gets thrown around when things go south. And they’re not wrong I suppose. I know that I’m gone more than I’m home. Even you know that.” He says with a humorless chuckle. “Half the time I don’t know the next time that I’ll be home and get to sleep in my own bed. So naturally that sort of…uncertainty doesn’t lend well to relationships. Of any kind really…” he pauses, letting out a sigh. “It’s hard to find, let alone keep, any type of meaningful connection… Especially when I’m halfway around the world. But I swear it’s not for lack of trying on my end. It’s just one of those things that comes with the job whether you want it or not.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling your heart breaking for him. If you weren’t sure before, you are positive now that he is just a little more lonely than he is willing to let on.

“I wasn’t even supposed to be here now. We’re supposed to be traveling to New York right now. Though, everything happens for a reason I guess.” he says, offering you a little smirk as he brushes his hand over top of yours. “Now, your turn. Tell me why such an intriguing woman is all alone on the most romantic day of the year…”

You pull the fluffy blanket up a little further onto your lap, toying with the hem as you look up at him. “I haven’t really dated anyone since I moved here. I thought I would but, I just…haven’t. I thought that once I was settled into a good routine at work I could spend a little more time meeting people, but every time I go out I’m suddenly surrounded by twenty other girls who are by modern standards perfect, and I just don’t even stand a chance against them, you know?” you pause, letting your fingers roll over the stitching on the edge of the duvet. “I don’t look like them, and I never will. So I just work a lot, hang out with my friends when I can, and have zero expectations of ever being the person that is going to stand out in a crowd like that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for his response, suddenly feeling stupid for telling this stranger your secrets. 

“You couldn't be more wrong.” he breathes, letting his arm fall against the back of the couch. There’s an air of demand in his voice as he speaks. His hand swipes the hair away from your face, letting his fingers brush your jawline. “You’re prettier than all of them. And smarter, and funnier. They have nothing on you. I’d pick you…In a crowd.”

“You don’t have to just say that to try and make me feel better. It’s okay, really.” you say dismissively.

“I’m not just saying that, Y/N. I mean it. You’re so pretty, and you’re so quick witted, and you listen to me talk about stuff no one else cares about...Shit, I can’t think of one person I know that would have sat through even the first video, let alone let me talk through the entire thing. I’m having one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time, with you.” he urges, settling his hand loosely on the curve of your neck. His skin is warm against yours, and you can smell the remnants of the cologne he likely sprayed on his wrist this morning as it wafts towards your nose. 

You laugh softly, suddenly feeling shy as he compliments you. You lean into him without even noticing, your eyes closing as you breathe him in. The cushion dips as he leans towards you, meeting you where you were and pressing his lips to yours almost tentatively. His fingers grip into your neck as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip. If the gummy didn’t already have you feeling floaty, you were sure you’d be feeling it now. He pulls away from you and a small whimper leaves your mouth at the loss of his warmth. His hand slides down your neck and over your shoulder, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him. With his other hand, he picks up the remote and hits pause, not wanting the video to carry on in the background of what you think is about to be another kiss. 

“C’mere…” he growls, holding a hand out to you. You tuck your feet underneath yourself in an attempt to push up onto your knees, feeling slightly off-kilter. You grip his hand a little tighter as you reach for his shoulder, moving slowly until you’re straddling his lap. He positions your legs on either side of him, making sure you’re comfortable, and taking the opportunity to run his hands over your thighs. You rest your hands on his chest for some stability, your head in the clouds. His hands immediately find their way back to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pulls you in and kisses you again,though this time there is a little more urgency behind it. You slide your hands up and over his shoulders, letting your fingers weave into his hair, grabbing a handful of the chestnut locks and gripping it in your fists. He tilts his head back slightly in response. 

“Oh, fuck.” he groans. He looks at you with his head tilted back, his lids heavy, a barely-there crooked smile on his face. He’s such a sight with his dark eyes and pink lips, you think you might burst on the spot. You know you need to kiss him again, but you also want to hear him moan and curse again, and his exposed throat is calling to you.

Leaning down, you place a kiss to his jaw, the skin soft and warm. You feel like you’re in the passenger seat as someone else, a bolder and less inhibited version of yourself, calls the shots. One minute, you’re thinking about how the textured skin of his throat feels against your cheek, then then the next, you’re kissing and licking at it without a second thought. You feel his skin buzz under your lips as he whines, the taste of his skin and cologne mixed together so good you’re certain you’ll never be able to forget it. 

You feel yourself melting into him, your tongue pulling the delicate skin over his clavicle into your mouth as you suck and bite softly without any consideration for the fact that he probably shouldn’t be covered in love bites. When you lift your head, he’s got his own resting on the back of the couch, his eyes closed, his brows knitted together as you shower him in searing kisses.

Sitting up, you lean over him again for another kiss, this time taking it upon yourself to deepen it, grazing your teeth over his bottom lip as you lace your hands in his hair again, taking a bit of control. You feel him shudder beneath you, his hips bucking up in response. His tongue slides into your mouth and you can taste the lingering flavor of the tequila he was no doubt drinking prior to your arrival mixed with a hint of chocolate. His hands travel down your body, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt. He stops as his hands wrap around your waist, his thumbs swiping over your skin. You lean into his grip, feeling him pull you down onto his groin as his teeth nip at your lips now. 

You know that both of you are still feeling the effects of the gummy and there isn’t a shred of inhibition between the two of you. You release your grip on his hair and let your hands trail down the open buttons of his shirt, feeling the chest you’ve stared at all night beneath your fingertips. You slide them further down, letting your fingers toy with the remaining buttons, waiting to see if he will stop you, but when he doesn’t, you finish the job and push his shirt open completely. A silver necklace rests between his pecs, and you smile recognizing the coin as one of the artifacts you saw in one of the videos from earlier in the night. 

His mouth is like velvet on yours and you can’t help but to want more of him. You roll your hips against him, feeling him growing beneath you and spurring you on even more. Another groan leaves his mouth, his lips vibrating on yours. His hands move up a little further, his thumbs just dusting the underside of your bralette. You can tell he’s doing his best to be respectful, but you simply cannot wait another second to feel his hands on your body. 

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, tossing it to the side. He swallows thickly as his eyes roam over you, his lips parting as he looks you over. His mind is struggling to keep up with the pace things are moving. He hums in approval as he runs a calloused fingertip over your navel, which pulls a lazy smile from you. Jake chuckles in response, now moving his hands to rest at your shoulders before pulling you down closer to him so he can press a wet kiss to your collarbone. His lips trail down your skin until they reach the fullness of your chest, and with his eyes now locked on yours, he sucks a hot, audible kiss into the rounded skin.

Your eyes flutter closed as his tongue swipes against your skin, simultaneously feeling his fingers pull the bralette straps down over your shoulders. With the extra support gone the cups fall slightly, revealing a little more of your chest to him. You grab his hands and pull them to your chest, giving him the green light to take things a little further. 

“God, you’re stunning.” he mumbles breathlessly, gripping into your tits as you roll your hips against him. You lean forward to press your lips to his again, licking into his mouth as his hands move to circle around your back, resting just at the base of your back. He presses you closer as you roll into him again, this time feeling his fully hard cock pressed against your core. He hooks a finger into one side of your bralette, freeing your nipple. He leans forward and takes into his mouth, sucking softly. You groan at the feeling, a breath of air leaving his mouth as you drag across the length of him. He pulls you closer, dragging his tongue over the sensitive bud as mewls fall from your lips. You usually aren’t as affected by something so routine in foreplay, but all of your senses are heightened and you think you could probably cum from the feeling of his mouth spoiling you with kisses and bites combined with how hard he is between your thighs.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, still glassy and blown out. “I promise this isn’t what I intended when I invited you over...” he breathes, his thumbs swiping against your back as he licks his lips, his blinks slow and lazy. 

“I know…” you answer with a bashful smile and lidded eyes, staring into his brown irises. “But it feels too good to stop.” 

“Yeah,” he says, more of a breath than a word. “I want you so fucking bad right now.” he adds, a smirk pulling across his lips as he makes the move to roll you to your back on the chaise of the couch. You're giggling as he’s now hovering over you, similarly to how he was earlier, only this time you know he’s going to kiss you and you don’t have to wish for it. He makes quick work of his shirt, pulling his arms from the sleeves and tossing it to the other side of the room. Your head is positively spinning, the room around you seems like a blur and the only thing in focus is him.

He runs a finger over your chest, hooking into the fabric of your bralette. “Take this off for me, sweetheart. Show me.” he mumbles, his lazy eyes slowly raking over every inch of you, needing more.

You practically burst into flames, rushing to pull the fabric over your head. Now completely exposed to him, his eyes flick down to your chest as he bites his lips together. He pulls back again, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down for some relief. He swallows harshly, letting his eyes meet yours again. You reach your hand up and hook it around his neck, pulling his face down to yours. You press your lips to his and he lowers himself down to his elbows, deepening the kiss as his body lays on top of yours. 

You let your free hand circle around his back, your fingers following the contours of his waist, dipping down to his spine as you run the length of his back. He groans at the feeling of your nails against his skin, and you find yourself wondering if he’s usually this vocal or if the high he’s experiencing has lowered his guard. 

He shoots up, turning his head around to look at the TV, muttering something under his breath as he grabs the remote from the other side of the couch. He exits the video and you giggle, realizing it was paused on a still of his brother, you assume, in the middle of talking with his hands, sitting behind a keyboard. He tosses the remote to the coffee table, leaning back down over you with a smirk. “Sorry. I just think three’s a crowd.” he smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips.

He pulls away from your lips leaving a trail of kisses down your throat, and over your sternum, stopping just shy of the top of your yoga pants. His eyes flick up to yours, and you offer him a shy nod, silently thanking yourself for that “everything” shower this morning. 

He kisses your stomach one more time before curling his fingers beneath the hem, sliding them slowly over your hips and down your legs before letting them fall softly to the floor. You lay there in just your panties, and you think he may notice that you’re feeling exposed as he quickly stands to kick off his pants. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the heavy outline of his dick, visible and straining against the black fabric of his boxers. 

His eyes flick to yours but you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the tan line just above the elastic of his boxers, wanting more than anything to peel the black fabric from his hips. He kneels onto the chaise, settling himself between your legs and caging you between his arms. A few strands of his hair hang around his face, and his dark brown eyes are growing darker by the second. You bring your hand up to his stomach, letting your fingers sneak beneath the elastic of his boxers, sliding across the front of his waist causing him to clench up his stomach with a smile. 

“You ticklish?” you murmur, continuing to slide your fingers across his waistband. 

He drops his head to look at your hand in his boxers before looking back up at you with a smirk. “Not ticklish, just…sensitive…” he growls. You can tell that the gummy has made him a little more responsive to touch than he normally is.

His hips jolt forward on their own accord and you feel the brush of his dick against your fingers. He sucks in a harsh breath at the contact, his eyes connecting with yours. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your hand further inside, wrapping softly around his hardened length. A hiss leaves his mouth and he starts to breathe a little heavier as you squeeze around him. You slide your hand up and around the tip, rounding off at the end before sliding back down, watching his eyes flutter closed for the slightest second. 

“Fuck, wait…” he breathes, pulling back and taking a second to compose himself. He sits up a little more, hooking his fingers into your thong and pulling it swiftly down your legs. His eyes flick up towards the couch then back down the length of the chaise, “Move down a little for me, baby. Rest your feet on the floor. ” 

You quickly push yourself further down on the couch, letting your knees hang over the edge of the chaise until your feet meet the rug on the floor. He drops to his knees at the end of the chaise, running his warm hands up the length of your thighs. He kisses the inside of your thigh, humming in appreciation for the position he’d found himself in. 

He rests both of his hands on your hips, and as you look down at him, you see a faint silver scar up the length of his left arm. You wrap your hand around his forearm, feeling his veins pulsing against your palm.

His eyes meet yours as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds, hot and slow as you throw your head back into the couch cushion. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin pulling you closer as his lips suction over your clit. His tongue swipes against you again, flatter and with more pressure as you writhe beneath him. 

“Fuck…” he curses, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. “Had I known what I was missing…” he pauses to lick at you again. “I would have pulled you across the street months ago. You taste like heaven.”

You feel as if you’re floating on a cloud as you melt into his comforter, the warmth from the fireplace radiating across the room. A soft gasp falls from your lips as he laps at you, no urgency or strategy behind his method. He seems to just be enjoying himself, his eyes lifting to look at you, a little lazy, a little glassy. You shift underneath him slightly, but he’s not deterred. His mouth doesn’t leave you for even a moment, like you’re his only source of vitality in this very moment. 

You whine when you feel his tongue press to your entrance, and you feel the smile that pulls across his lips. Your hips buck up towards him, his nose brushing over your clit, sending you quickly towards a place you’re not quite ready to be yet. His tongue finds you again, pressing forward this time and entering just for a second before pulling back out. His lips suction over you again, and he shakes his head side to side, taking you to that place whether you’re ready or not.

“Jake…” you whine, sliding your hands into his hair.

“Mmm?” he hums into you, his eyes slowly opening to find yours, heavy with lust. 

“More…” you beg, shuddering the slightest bit as you see how dark his eyes have become.

He gives you one more slow, long lap of his tongue, like he’s savoring it and committing the taste of you to memory. He stands from where he was kneeling and taps your thigh gently, wordlessly telling you to shift back up on the chaise. You scoot backwards and he follows, nestling himself between your legs, propped up on his palm. With the hand he isn’t using for balance, he frees himself from his briefs. He strokes himself once, but then lets himself go and you feel him against you, his cock heavy and hard, landing on the inside of your thigh with the softest sound. He pulls back slightly and when he pushes his hips forward again, he’s sliding through your folds, slick and lewd. It makes your cheeks hot.

“You’re so fucking wet…” he grunts, his voice strained like he’s in pain. “Just wanna feel you for a second…”

He lowers himself to bury his face in your hair, his breath hot as he pants, gently rutting his hips against you, his thrusts a little uncoordinated and desperate. 

“Everything’s just so fucking sensitive.” he says, his now boyish voice cracking as it’s muffled by the pillow behind your head. He wraps his arms tightly around you and under you, like he’s worried you’re about to float away. “Feels so good.”

With a deep breath he releases you, sliding his hand down to fist his base. As he presses the tip to your entrance his eyes lock on yours, wordlessly asking if you’re ready, and when you nod he starts to press forward. His eyes flick down to your center, watching as he slides into you. The stretch is noticeable, but you welcome it. You want it. His eyes flutter closed for just a second and you feel him stop his movement, not pressing into you fully. 

“Fuck, give me a second.” he pants, his chest heaving. 

You feel him try to slide in a little more, but again he’s holding back. 

“I think– I think you’re gonna have to take the reins here.” he admits. 

“What do you mean…”

“If I move a single inch more I won’t–” he pauses, shaking his head as he blows out a breath. “I just need you to be on top.” 

His eyes are pleading, searching yours, and you can’t possibly fathom the idea of ever denying him. 

“I’ll make it worth your while.” he offers, and you can’t help but give him a little smirk, nodding. He withdraws and gives you a little space to get up, ditching his underwear before taking your place. You gingerly climb over him, taking a moment to brush one of the strands of hair that frames his face out of the way. He gives you a soft, lazy smile, his eyes barely open as he welcomes your gentle touch. 

His hand reaches between the two of you as he lines himself up, and you waste no time lowering yourself onto him, savoring how full he makes you feel. Intending to fly right out of the gates you lift your hips again, but he slowly settles you down, a soft hum rumbling through him. 

“That’s it. Yeah… Lean back for me?” he coaches, and you do as he asks without a second thought. His warm hand brushes down your abdomen until his thumb makes contact with your clit to rub gentle circles while his lidded eyes are open just a sliver to stare intently at where your bodies are meeting. His pink lips are parted slightly, his breathing shallow. You can’t help the wanton moan that escapes your throat at the sight paired with his careful touch.

“Rest your hands on my knees. I won’t let you fall.” he instructs, letting his free hand slide up your thigh. You do as he says, leaning back onto his knees, allowing you to take him a little deeper. “Just like that, baby. Fuck…” 

You roll your hips in figure eights, feeling him brush against that sensitive place inside you, eliciting a whine from your chest. 

“Yeah? Right there?” he asks, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You stay just like that. Let me take over.” 

He brings his foot up to rest on the cushion, giving himself a little more leverage. His hand firmly grips into your hip as he forcefully flicks his hips and fucks up into you. You gasp as he hits that spot, like he knew where it was the whole time. His thumb never relenting in its work on your clit.

“Yeah, damn. That’s it isn’t it, sweetheart? You feel so good like this... You just keep squeezin’ me, just like that.”

The force of his thrusts cause his silver chain to work its way up his body and into the crook of his neck. Your attention is quickly drawn to the metal coins rattling together with each thrust. 

“M’gonna cum…” you warn him so he can decide whether or not to back off, but he just groans and keeps his motions steady. You can’t breathe when it hits you, nor can you help the way you fall forward, gasping for breath. Steadying yourself with weak arms, you grasp at the plush comforter underneath him.

“Fuck me that’s tight,” he groans. “Fuck.” He grabs your wrists on either side of his head for leverage, thrusting up into you so hard you see stars. It’s like your vision goes white as your chest heaves and you meet your end, crying out a desperate wail of his name.

“Slow down for me now, baby.” he coos as you tremble and try to catch your breath. You nod, taking all of him slowly with each roll of your hips. Looking down at him, you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together. Something about the way he’s dewy with sweat, his chest rising and falling, his hair sticking to his face… It makes your head spin. You watch his stoned eyes rolling back each time you take him so deeply the head of his cock brushes against the deepest part of you and it’s almost too much to bear. 

He grips your hips suddenly, inhaling sharply. You freeze, knowing what he’s getting at, and you feel him twitch inside you. His brow is knitted up in concentration and a whine leaves his perfect, heart-shaped lips. 

“Goddamn… you feel too good. I can’t– I can’t hold it, fuck…” he babbles, his voice pitched higher than you’ve heard it all night. Before you can say a word, he continues on. 

“Can I do it inside? Please, baby, can I? Pl– oh, god, please? Wanna cum inside you so bad, so fucking bad… Can I? Baby–” 

“Do it.” you urge, desperate to give him anything he wants in this very moment. 

“Yeah?” he gasps. 

“Yeah, do it. Please. I need it…” you whine, squeezing him with everything you have one last time. 

“Oh fuck…” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you down and holds you in place as he pumps into you. “God damn, fuck me…” he cries out, grunting with each pulse inside you. His brows are furrowed and his eyes screwed shut before finally letting out a deep breath and slowing his hips. 

His chest is heaving and a sheen of sweat covers his tanned skin. His hand moves from your hips, swiping the sweaty hair from his forehead. You lift to your knees, knowing exactly why his eyes are still trained on the place the two of you meet. He wants to see his work.

As you lift up, you feel his release start to stream out of you and back down onto his cock. A huff of pride leaves his chest, his tongue swiping out over his bottom lip before biting it between his teeth. 

“Should we clean up?” he asks, watching the hot white streams drip down to his base. 

“I’m working on it...” you say softly, lifting off of him completely and dropping to your knees. You plant your hands on either side of his hips, arching your back and pressing your ass into the air as you lower your mouth over his cum covered cock. 

“Fuck…” he groans, watching your lips slide down his length.

Closing your lips over his base, you take him as far into your throat as you can, sucking his release from his skin as you work your way up, dragging your tongue over his every inch. You can feel him growing hard again as you reach the tip, lapping and circling your tongue around the sensitive skin. You drop down to his base again, but this time you feel his hand grip into your hair, holding you there as his hips jerk forward, propelling him further down your throat. 

“Look at me.” he demands, and you flick your watery eyes up to meet his. 

You gag around him and he releases your hair, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “Mmm…Yeah, fuck. We’re gonna revisit this...” he says, eyes fixed on you as you pull off of him with a pop. “Just needed to see how pretty you look with my cock down your throat.”

You can’t stop the tiny gasp that escapes you as you shoot him a playfully shocked grin. You blink once, raising your brows. 

“We have a lot to revisit. Where did that come from?” You ask through a laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He chuckles, handing you your shirt. 

“Sorry, sorry. The edible’s wearing off.” He says with a smirk, attempting to get himself off the couch. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Jake shows you to the bathroom, then disappears into his bedroom while you freshen up. When you emerge, re-dressed and significantly less sticky, he hears your footsteps and comes out to meet you in the hallway. The two of you smile at each other, feeling the THC and endorphins and feelings starting to settle like you’re standing in a snowglobe.

“I'm glad you came over. Sorry I Jake’d you for a few hours.” He says softly, and there’s some jingling coming from his bedroom, which is probably Davy annoyed that you’re still lingering in his house. Jake hears it, reaching behind him to close his bedroom door without looking away from you.

“Jake’d me? Please don’t tell me that’s what you call–”

“NO, no, no. Oh, no. Getting ‘Jake’d’ is what my family calls it when I corner one of them into talking to me for an extended period of time about something they don’t really care about in excruciating detail.” He explains like he’s reading the definition from a textbook, a charming smile on his face. He seems a little embarrassed but at the same time, he sees the humor in it.

“Well I had a really great time.” you answer genuinely, pushing your hair behind your ear. “You can Jake me whenever you want.” You joke, a laugh bubbling out of you. You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully and it coaxes a short, loud laugh out of him as well. 

“I just might take you up on that.” He says, and there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks even in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“You know where to find me...” 

As if he can tell you’re about to try and take your leave, he starts to walk past you and down the stairs. 

“...Have you ever watched those videos where they clean out old barns?”

–

The two of you ended up curled together on the chaise, tucked under his big comfy blanket. The exhaustion hits you all at once, and about 10 minutes in, you slip into a deep sleep, your head tucked into his shoulder, his arm around you, his hand gently scratching your scalp. 

Hours later, you wake up unsure where you are for a moment. As you shift a little, you feel there’s a heavy weight against you, which you soon realize is Jake’s leg. You’re no longer tucked underneath the giant duvet, a little sweaty, as Jake is asleep on his back. His hand is tucked into his sweatpants resting on his upper thigh, and you have to peel your eyes away once you spot the first sign of him half hard and half asleep. You can see his bold tan line and the slightest bit of hair through the gap he’s created. Sitting up, you try to search for a clock somewhere in the room or even your phone. Feeling around the chaise under you, you don’t find it. You look over on the other side of Jake hoping it’s there, but the only thing you find there is little Davy, curled into a ball and pressed against Jake’s back. 

Jake seems to feel you moving around and it wakes him, eliciting a raspy hum from his chest. He pulls you back in towards him, your back to his chest, and you feel him shaking his head against your shoulder.

“Morning,” you say through a breathy laugh, but at the sound of your voice, you hear the jingle of Davy’s collar and the tippy-taps of his feet as he runs as far away from you as humanly possible.

“Too early.” He grumbles, reaching blindly over his head to feel around for the curtains. When he doesn’t find them, he groans and gets up, tugging them closed tight. “Fuck. Slept with my contacts in.” He says, standing over you and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He stretches his arms over his head, his tanline peeking out again, and you squeeze your eyes closed trying to keep your head on straight. He sighs deeply before sliding back onto the couch with you, pulling you tight to him. The two of you fall back asleep soon after, the only sound you hear is the clinking of Davy’s collar tag against his bowl and some quiet crunching.

–

When you wake again it’s from the feeling of Jake’s fingers moving against your hip. You stretch your legs out along the chaise, feeling the brush of his sweatpants against your legs. You roll your body towards him letting out a yawn. His eyes open, a little red from the dryness of sleeping with his contacts in, but as they fully open you’re once again pulled in by the dark brown irises. 

“Still too early?” you whisper, your morning voice thick with sleep. 

“Mmm, a bit, but I should probably get up. I’m sure my phone is just completely blown up by this point.” he groans, stretching his own legs out. “You sleep okay? We should’ve just moved to the bed earlier.”

“Actually this couch is pretty comfy, no complaints from me.” you smile, watching a grin spread across his own face. 

“Speaking of complaints, your snoring…” he trails off. 

“I don’t snore!” you admonish, playfully pushing off of his warm chest. 

“No, you don’t. I’m just kidding. You are warm though, but that’s not a complaint.” he growls, tossing the comforter off of both of you. He pushes himself up off of the couch, his sweatpants dangerously low on his hips. “Coffee? You drink coffee?” he asks, searching for his phone on the coffee table. “Or I can order something to the house, though there’s really only one good place that deliv–”

You send him a knowing look and he stops himself. 

“But you know that already because you live across the street.” he sighs. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee’s good.” you answer, looking for your own phone. 

“How do you like it? Sugar? Milk? I don’t know what I have but–”

“Just sugar is fine…” you smirk. 

He leans over the coffee table to grab his phone, stealing a kiss on his descent. 

“Hey!” you laugh.

“You said just sugar…” he grins, swiping his phone and disappearing into his kitchen. 

You stifle back the smile on your lips, and a morning you thought might be slightly awkward, feels like you’ve done it a million times. You pull on your cardigan, and run your fingers through your hair, straightening up the couch cushions, and repositioning the pillows. You’re finishing folding up his comforter as he walks into the room. 

“Ahh, you didn’t have to do that.” he says, placing your mug on the coffee table.

“No trouble, just cleaning up our mess.” you smile, tossing the folded comforter down onto the couch. 

“You seem to be rather good at that...” he smirks into his coffee mug. 

Your cheeks grow hot as you recall what he is referring to. You grab your mug from the table and take a few sips, finding that somehow it’s made exactly how you like it. 

You spot your keys under the coffee table, bending to grab them. “There they are. Always getting away from me.”

He chuckles as he takes his normal seat on the couch, crossing his leg over his knee. You stare at him, just enjoying his coffee on his couch and you want to ask him if you can see him again, but you don’t. You think back to what he told you last night, and decide against it. 

You place your empty mug on the table, and bite your lips together before looking at him. “Thank you– for the coffee, and everything. It was nice.” 

“Yeah, it was nice, wasn’t it? Same time next year?” he jokes, offering you a wink. 

“Oh yeah, I thought that was a given…” you say through a laugh, “I mean, if you’re home of course.”

You grab your phone and keys from the coffee table and stand, ready to make your way towards the front door. He joins you in standing, the mug still clasped in his hand.

“Yeah, you just never know, ya know? I mean, maybe we don’t even have to wait that long…” he laughs, taking another sip of his coffee with a shrug. 

“Yeah, I mean, you have my number…” You smile, twisting the front door knob. 

“That I do. I definitely do.” he pauses, as you pull the door open. “Hey wait, let me walk you home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, it’s just right there…” you say nervously. 

“No, really. I want to. Just give me a sec.” he says, setting his mug on the entry table and rushing to grab a hoodie from his coat rack. He slides on a pair of dirty white Vans that have definitely seen better days, and opens the door further. “Alright, you ready?”

The two of you make your way through his front yard, giggling back and forth all the way to your front door as he quizzes you about the videos you watched last night. As you step up to your front porch mat you pull your keys from your cardigan pocket and start to unlock the door. 

“Thanks for walking me home. You’re such a gentleman…” you say, feigning romance. As you peek over his shoulder you see Davy sitting in the window, keeping a close eye on Jake. 

“Well of course, I couldn’t miss out on my kiss…” he smiles, a little dimple forming in his cheek. 

“What kiss…” you press, all the while secretly hoping for just one more. 

He grabs your waist and pulls you close to him, pressing his cold lips to yours. You can taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue, and as he pulls away his lips linger just a second longer. 

A hum leaves his lips as he steps back. “That kiss.” He says, stepping backwards off of your porch, taking a few steps before turning to head back to his house. As you step inside your front door you look over your shoulder at the same time as he does, throwing his hand up from inside his hoodie pocket to offer you a two finger wave. 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you close the door behind you, and you feel like positively melting into the ground over the night you just shared with Jake. As you peek out the window you see Davy gone from his patrol post, and you smile knowing he’s definitely happy to have Jake all to himself again.

—

As you scrub away the remnants of the night before, you can’t help but to remember the way his hands felt as they moved across your body. So warm and so intentional, even in his intoxicated state. You wonder if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and if he’s thinking about it just as much as you are. You think back to every other Valentine’s day you’ve ever had, and not a single one holding a candle to the night you just spent across the street with your neighbor. 

You hear your phone buzz on the bathroom counter as you turn the shower off, wrapping yourself in a towel as you pick it up from the countertop. Your heart leaps in your chest as you see his name flash across your screen.

Jake - Neighbor

12:04pm: Probably should have watched the first one before the sequel. 😉

12:04pm: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWDf_CEkpoU&t=1382s

You quickly hit the link, watching as it directs you to youtube, pulling up yet another Rig Rundown video. This one is much older than the one you saw last night, and as you lean against the bathroom counter the intro music starts to play. You’re met with a much younger looking version of Jake, in a sweater and a bucket hat, looking bright and eager to talk about his craft. 

You quickly head towards your kitchen, pulling your own stash of gummies from your pantry. You pluck one of the small black bags from the basket and snap a photo as you pull up your texts and attach it to a message with a giggle. 

You

12:10pm: Should I take one of these before I watch it? 

12:10pm: By the way, love the bucket hat… 😉

You make your way back to your bedroom, dressing yourself in lounge clothes, knowing you’ll probably spend the rest of the day relaxing and catching up on your shows. Satisfied with your outfit you grab your phone to check for his response, only to be met with an empty screen. You sigh and make your way to the living room, flopping down onto your couch with your leftover take out from the night before, pressing play on the TV. 

You try not to think about the man across the street and what he’s probably doing. You know he must be into something since he has yet to respond to your message. That or he has no intention of ever speaking to you again. 

Feeling frustrated that it’s probably the latter, you toss your phone to the other side of the couch, catching a glance out your window. Your eyes snap to his driveway, seeing another car taking up the space next to his. Who the hell is at his house?

You stand up and make your way over to the window, taking a closer look at the white Jeep parked next to his car. You’ve never noticed it before…Or have you? You start to wrack your brain for the times you’ve even seen another car at his house, but you come up short. Never really caring before today. 

You sit back down on the couch and start the next episode of your show, feeling the soreness from the prior night's activities starting to settle into your muscles. You grab a throw blanket and your favorite pillow and snuggle down into the couch cushions, ready to nap away your troubles, and hoping to wake up to a new message in your inbox. 

A knock on the door startles you awake. You grab your phone and see that you’ve slept quite a few hours, and it’s now nearly 6:00pm.

You stand up and run your hands through your hair to combat the bedhead, clearing your throat as you reach for the door knob. Standing on the other side of your door is Jake, looking like he is fresh from the shower, as his damp hair lays long over his shoulders. You can smell his body wash wafting off of him and you practically melt into the door frame. 

“Did I wake you up? Did you actually take that gummy?” he laughs, pulling his hands from his pockets. 

“Oh, no. I didn’t. I just… I guess I was a little more tired than I thought.” you blush, trying to play it cool, and not like you’ve been thinking about him since the moment he left this morning. 

“Sorry I forgot to respond. My brother came over and I couldn’t get him to leave.” he laughs.  

His brother.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I was in and out of sleep all day anyways.” you lie. 

“So…” he pauses, taking a breath as he reaches into his pocket. “I may have acquired something a bit better than what we had last night.” he says holding a small black bag in his palm. 

“I don’t know, I kind of liked what we had last night.” you quip, a little smirk on your lips. 

“Mhmm, I know you did.” he smiles, sliding his hands back into his trouser pockets. 

“I don’t know if you had plans tonight or anything…” he trails off, kicking his foot against your doormat. “But I was thinking about watching this video I saw about how to make a barbecue smoker out of a filing cabinet. Really riveting stuff…”

His big brown eyes flash up to yours in question and you feel that flame in your chest reignite. You’re already eager at the thought of spending another night like last night. You knew right then that it wouldn’t matter if it was a filing cabinet smoker or a centuries old shipwreck, there was suddenly nothing more important than watching whatever it may be, with him. So with a shy smile, and the tap of your fingers against your chin you meet his gaze. 

“You know, I really have been meaning to look into that…”

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c.leclerc x female reader (no y/n, soulmates au) word count: 4.3k a/n: my first f1 fic 🫣 be gentle i'm new here

Can we talk later?

You mill over the text, shaken, unprepared for the what are we conversation just yet, planning on living in the climate-controlled artificial relationship ecosystem for just a while longer. You write out an answer, delete, rewrite until the words don’t look like words and your fingers tap the wrong keys, delete again, set your phone face down on the arm of the couch. Chewing on it for a few more minutes, you attempt to play out the conversation in your mind, pausing here, clipping that short, slowing that down, and then your phone is in your hand again. 

You wonder if his phone sits deep in his pocket, buried somewhere in a bag, in his hand while he anxiously watches the typing bubbles appear, disappear, appear again. Maybe he’s as anxious as you, horrified, mortified, all the other -fieds at the thought of a label corrupting this, at the thought of rules and expectations and external opinions. 

You can plan it out as many times as you want, you’re always going to get stumped, because, well, you have no fucking idea what you and he are. You’re friends, best friends, the exchange of knowing glances, soulmates, a familiar laughter, strangers, a fading fire, nobody knows. Why, why must this conversation be had? You’re having fun, it’s fact, unwavering and unrelenting fun. Keep on, keeping on, just for now, until things aren’t so fun, and then the serious conversations can be had.

You can’t tell him no, refusing to have the talk would be worse than anything that could possibly come from actually sorting this situation out, from deciding whether or not this version of you will live on, or if it’s time they get buried, locked away far from your mind, replaced by someone new. 

Yes, you eventually reply. Dinner, my place?

There’s a pit in your stomach because you still don’t know what you’re going to do, what you’ll say, what your relationship is. His career, his lifestyle, it’s so, so different from yours. He’s home now, but he'll be gone soon, gone a lot, and you can’t just drop everything to follow him around, and you wouldn’t want to. You have no interest in every single move you make being talked about, photographed and scandalized. When you have a bad day, you don’t need the world to know, and when you have a good day, you don’t want to feel obligated to share it with anyone you don’t want to. 

He makes you happy, there’s no denying that, and you’re pretty sure he feels the same way, but you’ve been happy before. You’d be happy again, a simple happy, a regular happy. Is he really worth all that?

He’s knocking on the door at seven sharp, bottle of red in one hand, flowers in the other. You blush, because it’s the first time he’s personally delivered you flowers, and he makes fun of you for it, says you’re too easy to please with a cocky grin on his smug face. He asks you to be his girlfriend over the pasta dinner. You say yes, pretend you never had a single doubt, kiss him in the lamp lit living room. 

You meet his family in Monaco. It’s your first time on the paddock, first time at an F1 race,  and you pick anxiously at your cuticles the entire walk there. You’ve been planning your outfit out for a week, and yet still changed five times this morning. You would’ve kept going, but you were going to be late. You check your purse a million times, terrified that you’re going to forget something. They come up to you in Ferrari hospitality and introduce themselves. His mom is kind and respectful, and hugs you tight. His brothers remind you of him, same laugh, same mannerisms, same sense of humor. “She’s a keeper.” Arthur tells Charles that evening as you all leave the track. He nods, agrees, pulls you a little closer.

You move in together a few months after that, and find yourself explaining the intimate details of the past situationship to your mother over the phone. She’s just looking out for you, curious as to the stranger from another country that will be living with her daughter after only a few months of dating. She was expecting to hear that you’d been fucking for six and a half months before making the jump to boyfriend and girlfriend, but you weren’t expecting her to be so incredibly investigative. “He’s famous, Ma.” You’d told her.

“So if he kills you, I’ll see it on the news before I hear it from the police.” You laughed. She didn’t, and you promised to be out to meet her as soon as you could. You and Charles booked the flights over FaceTime that night.

Your parents had always held out hope you’d move back home, get tired of Monaco and all its pomp and circumstance and come crawling back to a twin bed in the land of dull beige apartments and gray skies. Charles impressing them was going to be twice as hard as it should’ve been, because the mere existence of your relationship was crushing their dreams for their little girl. He is an anchor, holding you steady in Monaco, stationary and happy and far, far away from them. 

He’s him, though, so all he had to do was flash those endearing eyes and that charming smile and they were calling him their son-in-law by the time we were eating dinner in the swankiest restaurant your hometown had to offer. You didn’t know it then, but he sat on the porch with your dad one morning and said he wanted to marry you. “Of course, you do.” Your Dad had said. “For your sake, I hope she wants to marry you.”

You did–want to marry him, and you danced with your friends and family into the morning on that summer evening, the air perfectly warm, the sun perfectly shining, a wedding band perfectly sat on your finger. It was the single most fun evening you’d ever had, celebrating the love you have for your husband. 

It takes a while to get used to that. Your husband, Charles.

“We’re not, not trying.” He told your grandchildren hungry parents at Christmas. You were mortified, wishing you could curl up into your own skin at the thought of your parents, especially your father, knowing exactly what’s happening in your sex life. It’s a year and three months to the day when they’re at your house in Monaco. You’re on the couch, raggedy pajamas and hair that hasn’t been brushed in three days, minimum, watching Charles carefully place your Mother’s littlest grandchild into her arms. He’s a month old, your son, and it seems like he’s already so big, but when you see him in your Mom’s arms, tiny wool socks slipping off his feet, you’re reminded just how small and dependant he is on you, both of you, to keep him safe from even his own fingernails. 

If you thought keeping mittens on the kid or waking up in the middle of the night to make sure his chest is still rising and falling was touch, nothing could’ve prepared you for that little shit learning how to open the babyproofed kitchen cabinets. The terrible twos were indeed, terrible. So terrible, that you’d decided hey, let’s do this again. Dragging yourself to those home races was anxious then, but now you’re chasing around a two year old, hoping and praying he doesn’t say anything or eat anything or, God forbid, break anything. 

Somewhere in the mess of it all, Charles was having his best season. The championship was so close he could taste it, and you made sure you were there, front and center, cheering him on when he finally achieved his dream. ‘It’s for my Father, and for Jules, and for my kids.” He’d said, teary eyed. He didn’t need to dedicate it to you, he never needed to prove anything to you, to show you his greatness. You loved him as he was, world champion or not, but you still hugged him with all your might in the middle of the track, still kissed him like there were no cameras and no people watching, because, for that immortalized moment in time, nobody was there but you and him. 

He smelled like champagne for three days, and you’re not sure you’ll ever bounce back from the celebrations that night, a permanent hangover and a queasy stomach at the mere mention of a top shelf tequila that shall not be named lingers on for years to come. Everything was perfect, though, and it was all so worth it. Two parents in love, chasing their dreams, a big house on a hill, a little boy and a tiny girl with the world at their fingertips. Your little family was so cliché it hurt. 

Before you knew it, you’re dropping your boy off at his first day of school, and you’re pretending not to cry while Charles laughs sweetly, wiping the salt from your face with the pads of his thumbs. He’s gone racing, and you’re splitting your already short time between this afterschool activity and that. When he’s home, he tries to shoulder as much of it as he can, and sometimes it feels like you kiss each other goodmorning and don’t see the other until you kiss again goodnight. 

Charles retires when the kids are eleven and eight. They understand, but they don’t. Their father is just their father to them, they can’t yet wrap their heads around the true passion he has for racing, the way it courses through his veins and occupies any free space in his mind, They don’t understand what it’s like to love something so purely, to know it’s what you were put on this Earth to do, not yet. 

It gets easier, for a while. There’s an adjustment period, and then you slip into a new routine, one where he tells the kids goodnight, and goes to sleep a few hours later rather than calling from somewhere else in the world and still having a million hours left in his day. 

The kids only get older, though, and their lives just get bigger, there’s more responsibility to shoulder, more things that need to get done. They develop new hobbies, add new sports practices and clubs and events to your already chaotic schedule. You’re tired, like, all of the time, and fight more than you ever did before. “I didn’t even want to be with you in the first place.” You said once, in the middle of your messiest argument. You two didn’t speak for three days, no hello, no goodbye, no tired small talk about your days or arguments about spending time with certain kids. On the third night, he slept on the couch and it felt like he had never been farther away. You made up the next morning.

At least, you told yourselves you made up. It only took a few days to slide back into the same stuff, hanging on by a single thread until a new fight came along to be the messiest one. You both tried to keep it quiet, hide it from the kids and your family and your friends, let everyone go on believing you were this perfect couple with this perfect life and perfect family. Nobody needed to know your relationship was going through the wringer each and every day, and you were convinced nobody was the wiser. “Are you and Dad going to divorce?” Your sweet little boy, the one who was now three inches taller than you, asked as you dropped him off for his first day at a new school. 

You called off work and went straight home, waited for Charles to get back from dropping off the younger one, and were crying on the couch when he got home. The two of you talked  until it was time to pick them up, and then you talked some more in the privacy of your room when you got back. It was the first time in a long time you actually talked to each other. You’d spent years speaking at each other, losing yourselves, losing each other, losing everything that mattered. 

“Your parents are so in love,” Your boy’s girlfriend–yes, he has a girlfriend now–said at his little sister’s graduation party. In a few short months, you’re going to be empty nesters, and Charles is taking it particularly hard. He feels like he’s missed out on too much, that his relationship with the kids will never be what yours is. You try your best to comfort him, but you both know he’s right. You weren’t the only ones who made sacrifices for Charles to chase his dream, the kids were forced to share their father with the world, whether they liked it or not. 

Charles was an emotional wreck the weekend of your little girl’s wedding. From start to finish, he was moments away from shedding a swimming pool’s worth of tears. He was so happy to see her so happy, and it was bittersweet for him, giving his little girl away, knowing that she didn’t need him anymore. He understood now what your father had meant all those years ago, that it was impossible not to love her, and that anybody lucky enough to be loved should never take advantage of it for even a moment. You danced together at the reception, laughing and reminiscing about your own. You’d asked, jokingly, if he regretted marrying you. “Never.” He said, without elaboration or grand gesture, and you knew he meant it, despite the challenges you’d faced together. 

Before you knew it, there was another Charles running around the house, laughing that sweet belly laugh and harboring all the innocence of the world in his big doe eyes. You’ll never be able to explain to anyone how much that meant for Charles, a grandson named after him. It was as if every doubt and insecurity  he’d had about raising your kids was silenced. As if you son was telling him, you built me, Dad, thank you

The years faded into each other, both of you graying and aging with an optimistic grace. Your kids threw you a surprise 40th anniversary party, and you thought it was impossible to feel so surrounded by love. You danced to your wedding song, resting your head on his shoulder like you had all those years ago, laughing at his stupid jokes and silently reflecting on everything that got you here. It was never easy, it was never going to be, but it was so worth it, to love him and be loved by him. 

And when your memory started to escape you, when you searched for a younger version of him in every room, he stayed by your side as a stranger. In a moment of clarity, ones that were becoming fewer and further between, you’d asked him to promise you something. “Let me go first.” You pleaded, feeling all the weight of a life without him, knowing that if he dies before you, you’ll forget he was gone and be forced to relive the sorrow over and over again. 

As your breathing slowed and the sounds of the world faced away, his hand stayed on yours. It’s only a matter of time, now. You’ll be gone soon, leaving behind the wonderful life you’ve created. “Wait for me wherever you go, mon ange.” He whispers in the stillness of the hospital room. “I will find you again.”

– – – –

You see him for the first time at a café. You’re sixteen and don’t even like coffee, but your best friend is dragging you in. He’s working behind the counter, flustered and busy, running around mixing drinks and taking orders. "Que voulez-vous commander madame?” He asked your friend, and she ordered. “Et vous?” I don’t drink coffee, you told him. He smiled, goofy, something familiar in his eyes. You noted his nametag, carefully drawn on with a chalk marker. Charles. 

He calls out your friend's name a few minutes after, and sets two drinks down on the counter. Her name is written messily on one, his phone number on the other. 

You spend the next month stopping by the shop randomly. Sometimes he isn’t there, but when he is, he makes you a different drink every time, his number scribbled on the side without fail. It takes the whole month before you’re convinced to actually call him, and he doesn’t answer. You leave a message.

Your first date is the weekend, coffee in the morning. Because, of course it is. He pulls out your chair on the patio of the small shop and the first date turns into a second, lunch in the park, and then a third, dinner at your favorite restaurant. Not once do you run out of things to talk about, something vast and unfamiliar and welcoming about him. In the silent moments there is  solace, warm and comfortable, like you’ve known each other your whole lives. 

Nobody believes in your relationship, not really. You’re fighting the odds from the time you decide you’re not going to break up before going to university. Everytime you catch up with friends from home, they seem surprised to learn you’re still together. Family whispers, tells you it’s not going to last, that you should prepare yourself. But you and he know something nobody else does, acutely aware of the draw and connection you share. A once in a lifetime, once in a millenia, once upon a time love story written just for the two of you. 

When you graduated, a cheap, shiny engagement ring on your finger, he was watching with a proud smile and a bouquet of flowers. You went home together, to your dumpy little apartment, paid for by your waitress shifts and his hours at the café. He cooked dinner, you ate off paper plates in the living room and made infinite, optimistic plans for your futures. 

You could dream far and wide, but when it came down to it, anything would be heaven if he was there. Cheap dingy apartment and barely paying jobs felt like the lap of luxury with him by your side. 

This time though, your story is much more tragic. Lovers fated for a John Green novel, a manic pixie dream girl to live on in montages on tiny phone screens, destined to be someone he thinks of in dark lonely rooms or when someone doesn’t answer his call. 

He realizes a year and a half after the abrupt end to your story that he can’t remember your voice, your laugh, your smell. He spends the day watching videos of you, re-memorizing the way you spoke, your mannerisms, you. He’s moved out of the apartment, and your parents have all your things in boxes in their attic. He drives into the early morning, stopping once to use the bathroom, nothing more. When your Dad opens the door in the middle of the night, he gives Charles a heavy hug and leads him to the attic. It’s there, under the A-frame roof, amongst the humid air and cobwebs that you are immortalized. Beyond the dust is everything that made you, you. Forever young and hopeful and in love.

In a cardboard box labeled your room, corners dark and misshapen, he finds a stack of disposable coffee cups, familiar label printed on the cleaned cups, familiar number scribbled on each one with the haste of a seventeen year old boy’s black sharpie. He had no idea you’d kept them, the stupid advances of a shy boy enamored with the pretty girl. 

He moved forward, somehow, sometime later. But, he never moved on, looking for your smile, your sense of humor, your heart, in everyone who followed. 

– – – –

The next lifetime is spent platonically, a lifelong companionship that nobody else could ever fully understand. You were old souls, cherishing the minute details of the world and longing for something simpler. There was no longing, or waiting to meet. You’d known him for as long as you could remember. 

He was a brother, without the blood. Charles the comedic protector, walking on the outside of the sidewalk and then promising to use you as a human shield, a plus one to a wedding when your boyfriend dumped you the night before then did the chicken dance in front of strangers just to get an embarrassed laugh out of you. Charles, who walked so you could run, who jumped to make sure you wouldn’t fall, who held you back so he could throw the punches. 

When you met his wife for the first time, then barely his girlfriend, you’d made him promise not to fuck it up. “She’s too good for you, Cha.” You’d told him, because it was true. 

When she put you in a purple chiffon cupcake dress at their wedding, he struggled to bite back laughter while you walked down the aisle. You flipped him off with your eyes and he looked to Arthur, who was cracking up beside him. 

“He looks just like his Dad,” She said, holding your son in the hospital. Thank God for that, Charles said, and she smacked his arm. 

“We can only hope yours doesn’t suffer the same fate.” You said, a smug expression on your tired face. 

He went first this time, a million years later. You held her hand at the funeral and kissed the boys’ cheeks, tears pricking your nose when their grip on you tightened. 

There was comfort in the grief, something sure and steady in you, this wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. 

– – – –

Yes. Dinner, my place?

He gets there at seven, wine and flowers in hand. Your heart sinks and you’re ready to have a panic attack. You can’t do this to him, he’s too sweet, too kind. He leaves your apartment an hour and a half later, and you cry for what feels like the entire night. The flowers are in the trash the next morning, because you can’t bear to look at them.

“Do we have to watch this?” You asked, sitting on the couch next to your boyfriend. I thought you liked it, he’d said. There was nothing you wanted to watch less than Charles winning his first World Championship, watching him celebrate on the podium, kissing his girlfriend for the whole world to see. You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel, it was a combination of ache, longing, joy, and pride. None of which were your place to be feeling. “Just, turn it off, please?”

You threw up three times on your wedding day. Something was wrong, you knew deep down that you were making a mistake, but you didn’t have the resources or the balls to do anything about it. You knew you’d be happy, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something better was out there somewhere, that your soulmate was walking–or driving–around somewhere in the world. You went through with it though, never knowing for sure the reason behind your tears at the altar. 

Things were good, until they weren’t anymore, and you find yourself in the aftermath of a messy divorce and a messier custody battle. You live back in your hometown, the one you swore you’d never live in again, in a beige apartment that doesn’t belong to you. It’s all you can afford, and you need your parents' help with the kids. Not that you found yourself with much time to look back on your life, but when you did, it wasn’t the sunshine, roses, and simple happiness you’d aimed for when you opted down this path years ago. You found yourself wondering, more often than you’d like to admit, about what could have been, about what almost was. 

Your son, because the universe is sick and twisted and determined, decides he wants to be a Formula One driver. He must get it from his father, the drive to chase his dreams, because it certainly didn’t come from you and your desire to settle for something simple and regular. 

You don’t know how you manage it, the financial aspect of what feels like the most expensive dream in the world, but you do. Before you know it, your leg is anxiously bouncing for what feels like nine straight months. Watching him drive horrifies you, leaves you shaky and exhausted even when everything goes right, but especially when anything at all goes wrong. 

Your name on his lips is startling. You vaguely recognize it, turning to a familiar face that matches the maturity of the voice. It’s him, because who else would it be? “Charles?” You say, and you feel twenty-something and insanely vulnerable again.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“My boy.” You explained. 

“And, his father?” He asked, something strained in his voice. Hope, maybe. Or boredom. You don’t know him the way you once did, and he’s even more closed off than before. 

“What about him?”

“Is he here?” He said, hanging, something unsaid stuck on his tongue. You gave him the room to speak. “With you?”

You shook your head. “He’s here, but. We’re. I’m divorced.” You admit, something about it still sounds so taboo, so scandalous. Like it’s something you should be ashamed of. “You?”

“Widowed.” He said, and you inhaled sharply. 

“What was her name?” You don’t know why you said it, but it was coming out of your mouth before you could catch yourself, before you could express your sympathy. He told you. You’d never heard a name sound so sad. “I’m so sorry, Charles.” He swatted your words away, shook his head. “What was she like?” His face brightened, like nobody had ever asked what she was like. It was as if he had been desperately waiting to tell someone about her. 

He smiled, thought about it for what felt like a hundred laps. Quietly, practically under his breath, he spoke something you were completely unprepared to hear. “You,” He said. “She was a lot like you.”

<3, mack. hope you enjoyed, if you did, please don't be a ghost reader!

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb #cl16 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 angst #f1 x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfiction #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfics #f1 one shots

[westviewtroubles]

Heartbreak Prince

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Synopsis: Someone knocks on the door of Eddie's trailer, and you don't realize how much it breaks his heart to see you hurt.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: angst and fluff, comfort, explicit language and cursing, underage drinking.

A/N: I haven't posted since July, and honestly, it's been because I've been busy with life, and because there wasn't anything or any character that inspired me. Even my birthday went by! But because of a similar event in my life, I was inspired to write this :D Kind of sad, no? I hope you enjoy this, my writing skills might be rusty, but I tried my best!

The sound of music blaring through the trailer Eddie lived in wasn't anything unusual, the crappy stereo in his bedroom blaring Judas Priest with the volume knob turned all the way up, the boy pretending that the occasional crackling of the cassette wasn't bothering him.

He could hear the rain pattering against the steel roof of the trailer, tapping his guitar along to the noise in deep thought. Never before had he felt so uninspired, so bleak. In front of him laid the notebook where he usually wrote lyrics in, the page in front of him completely blank except for the messy drawing of a clown he had scribbled at the edge of the paper.

Eddie had been feeling this way for a while now; for the good part of the past month, there had been nothing new added onto the pages of that book but bad scribbles and the occasional math homework when he actually got bored enough to work on it.

His sulking was interrupted by a loud rapping coming from his door that almost startled him to his feet, the boy put his guitar back in its usual place as he stumbled to the front door, almost tripping on a pair of black jeans he had left on the floor.

A wide grin took over his face as he peeked out of the window, seeing a familiar girl standing there, but as he opened the door, the smile on his face slowly crept away.

You stood there in a rain-soaked brown cardigan covering your short t-shirt and your jean shorts, your arms crossed in front of your chest and a bottle of whiskey in your tight grip, a look of fury on your face that he hadn't seen before; one that he knew wasn't aimed at him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, letting you into the trailer as you took an angry swig out of the bottle, "What were you doing out in the rain? I could've come get you-"

"He cheated on me." You said with a grunt, taking another swig out of the bottle, Eddie worrying that the liquid would spill with the amount of motioning you were doing with your hands as you spoke. "I can't believe it. He actually cheated on me!"

"I think we're done with this." He muttered quietly, taking the almost full bottle out of your grasp and placing it on the table without you even so much as noticing, too busy pacing around the trailer with irritation. "Who cheated on you?"

"Aaron." You scoffed, Eddie furrowing his brows as he leaned against the counter, "You know, the dick who-"

"I know who Aaron is, but didn't you break up half a year ago?"

"That's not the point!" You ran your hand through your wet hair, pacing around while trying to straighten out your thoughts. "We broke up five months ago, but during gym, I heard Lacey say that it was her and Aaron's seven-month anniversary. This means that while he was dating me, he was two-timing me with fucking Lacey! That hag knew we had been dating for way over a year! Everyone knew! She was bragging to her little friend about how she stole him from me!"

"Shit-"

"He told me it was because we both had too much baggage, I guess his baggage was the fact that he was fucking Lacey Jones in the back of his pickup!"

Eddie felt his heart stop in his chest as he noticed the red scratch on your cheek, blood matted around the wound. His hand took hold of your chin, turning your cheek to him as he inspected it.

"What?" You asked irritatedly, your brows furrowed.

"What's on your cheek?" He asked, causing you to beeline towards the closest mirror in a fury, a chuckle leaving your lips as you inspected your face.

"Guess that bitch must've gotten a scratch in." You laughed.

"I think we should clean that up."

"Yeah, you don't know what kind of bacteria that wench could have had on her fake nails before I ripped them off."

Eddie made his way towards the bathroom, searching through the cabinets for some kind of antiseptic; he was sure that Wayne kept a whole collection of them with the number of scratches and wounds Eddie had come home with.

"Did you actually rip her nails off?" You heard him call out from the bathroom, letting out a laugh.

"At least two."

"Why would you even attack her? You've gotten over him already, haven't you?" He said, approaching you with a bottle of disinfectant in his hand and a roll of toilet paper in another as he motioned for you to sit down.

"I got over him a long time ago," You said, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs, "But it wasn't because I liked him, or anything. It was because he betrayed me and because she felt all too happy-go-lucky that she got my sloppy seconds. You should've heard what she said."

"What did she say, then?" Eddie asked, putting some disinfectant on a piece of toilet paper and grabbing your chin softly to lift it up.

"She said that I was so pathetic. That I was a tease, who couldn't keep Aaron because I didn't want to sleep with him. That I was a boring little freak he was just leading on until he found someone he actually wanted. That he would never really love someone like me, someone who had so many issues. She was so proud of it, proud of taking him from me like he was some kind of prize. She acted like she won something."

You didn't even feel the sting of the antiseptic, nor the wetness gathering in your eyes, keeping your gaze to the ground as Eddie held onto your chin, lifting it up as he pressed the toilet paper on your cheek as softly as possible.

"She was wrong." He said quietly, a chuckle leaving your lips as you sniffled quietly, "I'm serious."

"What if she's not, though?"

Eddie scoffed, throwing the used paper into the trash can as he took hold of the bandage, "Because the moment that she's not going to be the perfect little girlfriend Aaron wants, he's just gonna go to the next one. Guys like that always do that. It doesn't have anything to do with you, and everything to do with the fact that he was an asshole who didn't deserve you. I knew that from the moment I met him, and I knew it all throughout your relationship."

"Why didn't you tell me that, then? That you knew that he didn't deserve me?" You let out a little chuckle, looking up to see your friend shaking his head slightly, "What?"

"Because I was afraid it'd seem like I was jealous." He said, pressing the bandage over the wound on your cheek.

"Why would it?"

"Because I was." He said casually.

"What?"

"We're done?"

"What do you mean done?"

"I meant your cheek." He chuckled, Eddie thinking that the puzzled look on your face made you look adorable even with the smudged mascara around your eyes. "Do you want something to eat? You should at least change into something else, I should still have some of your clothes in my closet. Or you can wear something of mine, whatever you're most comfortable in."

"Hold on," You said, pointing your finger at him, "Why were you jealous?"

"Why do you think?"

"I don't-"

"Because I like you. I liked you before you were dating that douche, while you were dating him, and after. Even when you were forcing me to watch those crappy romantic movies you secretly cried to, telling me that you'd kill me if I told anyone."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You stood up, looking into his eyes, trying to see if he was lying to you. For you, his eyes were like the mirror in Snow White. Every time, even with the simplest things, you could look into Eddie's eyes and know if he was lying to you. But as you stared intently into his brown eyes, everything inside of you was telling you that he was being truthful. "Why didn't you tell me you liked me?"

"Because I was afraid that you'd look at me the way that you're looking at me right now. Like I'm a stranger." Eddie said weakly before clearing his throat, evading your intent gaze. "We probably just have plain spaghetti, hasn't been time to buy anything else yet. Hope that's fine."

As he was turning away from you, you took hold of his wrist, the boy turning back to you with confusion, and it was now his turn to study your face.

"You're such an idiot."

But there was no time for him to look for the meaning behind your words as he was taken over by the taste of whiskey and the feeling of your cold lips on his, your wet body pressed against his warm one, blending into one as your hands tangled into his hair.

When he finally realized what was happening, he pulled you closer to his body by your waist, a definite feeling of victory inside him to finally know what it felt like to kiss you, what it felt like to tease your tongue with his. He had never felt so confident, and so inspired.

You were only supposed to give him a small kiss, but as you felt yourself being lifted up onto the dining table, your mind was in a haze from the feeling of his lips on yours, his hand on your waist feeling like they were going to burn a hole through your clothes, the heavy breaths exchanged between you covering the distant music coming from Eddie's bedroom.

As you felt his lips travel to your neck, you pressed yourself closer to him, the hungry kisses he was leaving on your neck causing you to let out a whine.

But the wordless exchange between you was interrupted by a loud clank, and as he pulled away from you, you could see that the open bottle you had left on the table you were sitting on was now knocked over, the liquid spilling everywhere.

"Shit!" You exclaimed, hopping off the table and picking it up with a laugh, looking at the puddle of whiskey that had spilt on the table, the bottle still half-full.

As you turned back to look at Eddie, both of you burst into laughter. His hands were still around your waist, and yours were still wrapped around his neck. You pressed your face to his chest, shaking your head in laughter.

"I should clean that up." He said after a while, and you looked up at him with a dazed smile, nodding at him.

"I should get changed."

"Yeah."

The dazed feeling inside of him was made worse when you got on the tip of your toes, pressing a quick kiss on his lips, a wide smile on your face as you tucked your wet hair behind your hair before turning, rushing into his bedroom.

And as he looked up at the ceiling, leaning against the table, he pressed his hand on his chest, hoping that his heart wouldn't burst out of his chest.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson angst

[ammcg0119]

What their kisses taste like pt.2

What the MHA boys’ kisses taste like. All characters are aged up to be in their 20′s and some scenarios are suggestive so 18+ MDNI. Nameless and ageless blogs will be blocked. I do not own these characters and all scenarios are just fiction and for fun. Please do not copy my works or repost without either asking or giving credit.

Content warning : Making out, implied sex, dry humping, mentions of oral sex, nicknames (Princess, baby), mentions of female anatomy,

A/N : please let me know if I missed anything or if you want to give feedback, this is my second time actually posting a hc so I'll gladly take any criticism. Also I'm unsure who to do next so you can send in requests for who to put in my next one and hopefully I don't take months to post.

WC : 1.3k

Eijiro Kirishima

Like pop rocks and cherry coke 

It was a party with 3a and 3b for graduation

You still don’t know how you ended up in the circle playing seven minutes in heaven 

He was so nervous about you not wanting to kiss him

“Okay Y/n it’s your turn!” Mina shouts

As you spin the empty bottle you look around the circle and feel your hands beginning to sweat. A chorus of ‘ooo’ can be heard as you look up and find Kirishima beginning to stand. Grabbing his hand you stand and follow him to the coat closet found at the front of the dorm.

The space in the closet got smaller with how big the sturdy hero had gotten compared to the first year of high school. Each year that you grew alongside all of your classmates there was always an invisible line that was drawn between you and Eijiro made by the feelings you’ve never spoken about.

“You know we don’t have to do anything right, I'm happy just sitting here with you.” even in the dim light of the closet you can see the blush on his cheeks.

Your own cheeks burn with embarrassment, both your chests are touching and every exhale can be felt on the others lips.

“But what if I told you I want to?” Your hands snaked their way up his chest and over his shoulders to clasp together around the back of his neck.

“Then I guess I’d say good, cause I've been thinking about kissing you for god knows how long.” 

You could feel his lips brushing against yours as one of his hands made a claim on your waist while the other rubbed up and down your side.

“Kiss me.”

Your plea was met by the softness of his lips touching yours in a passionate and sensual kiss. Sparks tingle throughout your body as the kiss went on and his hands ran along your curves. His tongue poked at your lips as you tilted your head, parting your lips slightly you swirl your tongue against his. You could vaguely taste the coke and candy he had earlier as your hands caressed his muscles as he started pushing you against the wall in a desperate attempt to get closer only made you begin to run your hands through his hair to tug at the ends. As the kiss goes on his lips travel further down to your neck where you feel his teeth begin to nip at the skin

“Times up love birds!” The pink girl yells through the door

“Next time, next time when we walk out they’ll all know your mine.”

Denki Kaminari

Lemonade and chocolate chip cookies

Hanging out in his room after class

Fridays were your scheduled disney movie binge day

The little mermaid definitely became a bit more eventful

“Denks,the movie is still playing.” You whimper as he starts to trace the side of your neck with his finger.

“It’s okay, just wanted to see how sensitive you are.” his eyes are tracing your face as he stops at your lips.

You go to lick them out of habit and he takes his chance. The kiss is soft, almost hesitant giving you enough room to back away. In the three months that you’ve agreed to be friends with benefits with the electric boy you’ve never kissed. The deal was stress relief, as third years the amount of pressure was rising as graduation grew closer. Hand jobs, and oral was the most either of you have done with the other. But today something was off, it was different; the feeling of his hands groping your cloth covered breast as you pulled him in closer by the back of his neck was more urgent. His body pushing you down on the bed as he unbuttoned your uniform shirt was rushed while he licked and sucked on your bottom lip. The need to feel your skin on his clouding his brain as he ground his hips against you.

“Fuck baby, I need you so bad.” His words muffled by the skin of your neck as his hand danced over your panties.

“Denks please do something.” Your voice getting breathier as he skims his fingers over the growing wet patch

“You want me to play with you baby, want me to touch this pretty pussy you have here?” You can feel the smirk on his lips as your hips shift up to get more friction.

“You’re fucking soaking through your pretty little panties baby, why don’t we take them off might have more fun if we do.” 

Tired of his teasing you grab him by his shirt and pull him into you. The kiss is a clash of teeth, tongue, and the taste of his favorite lemonade and cookies.

“You talk too much, just fuck me already Denks.”

“Whatever you want princess, fuck I’d do anything you want every second of the day.”

“Yeah, then give it to me Denks, take me and give me everything,”

Sero Hanta

Orange soda and airheads

After another late night on the job you decide to go back to his

Literally just take out on his coffee table and whatever late night reruns were on tv

Was definitely not the first time either of you have thought of doing it

“No, no the last time we had this Kaminari laughed a noodle out his nose and I still have no idea how he managed that.” the tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as you and Hanta recall the memory of the electric hero making a fool out of himself yet again.

“Man I miss hanging out with them, it sucks we’re all so busy though.”

“Yeah but at least we can still do these stupid reruns every now and then, I like how chill it is with you.”

The room was quiet save for the tv in the background, his fingers just barely touching your arm put your nerves on high alert. The tension between you and Hanta has been palpable since your second year at UA, and for some reason the consequences of kissing him don’t seem so bad tonight.

His eyes went back and forth between your eyes and your lips, the blush rising on your face did nothing to stop him from smirking before he lent in pressing his lips against yours.

“God you’re so fucking pretty.” His kiss was intense and passionate, it felt like everything he never had the chance to say was coming out through the dance between your mouths.

Soon his tongue started sliding along your bottom lip, parting your lips you let him in as he pushed you down the sofa. The taste of his drink pulling you in as his tongue danced with yours sensually. His hands wrapping themselves around your waist and breasts holding, caressing and massaging as his hips ground against yours. The feeling of him half hard putting pressure on your clit through your sweats had you moaning into his mouth. Your hands moved into his black hair as his lips traveled down your neck leaving little nips and licks in the places he kissed. Your moans slowly started getting louder as his hips moved faster and harder.

The pressure building up in your core became too big to ignore. You knew he felt it too as his breathing got heavier until it stopped. His hips stuttered to a stop as he slowly lifted himself off of you with a shy smile and blush tinting his cheeks.

“Fucking came in my pants like we were in high school.” His eyes hanging low as he spoke “But let me guess, you didn’t cum did you princess?”

“No, I was really close though, why you trying to make it up to me?” The lust in his eyes was undeniable as he smirked and lifted you from the couch.

“Wouldn’t be much fun if you don’t finish, how about you try it on my tongue instead?”

#bnha #bnha smut #mha #mha smut #eijirou kirishima #eijirou kirishima x reader #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader #eijirou kirishima smut #denki kaminari smut #hanta sero smut #kirishima smut #denki smut #sero smut #bnha headcannons #mha headcanons

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠

part three of do you feel my hand? it is there. | part one | part two | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader's childhood cat suddenly gets diagnosed with cancer, and she has to make a big decision about what to do. this fanfic includes heavy topics like: pet euthanasia, extreme loss/grief, depression, the problems with pet healthcare, and more. there will be some humor/fluff placed throughout, and also smut somewhere along the way. :))

18+ warnings: slight hints of masterbation. sexual fantasies.

word count: 4.2k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: rewarding you guys with this update tonight as it's my birthday and i was feeling a little generous haha! 🥰 i am seriously SO overwhelmed by the positive response i've gotten on this little series of mine... it makes me incredibly happy to hear that a lot of you are enjoying this. i'm have about two-and-a-half draft chapters left to write to reach completion of this, and i'm excited for the big writing plans that i have in the future, so please look forward to that as well~ 💖

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

 The next six months passed in a blur of emotion and grief. Most days, it was hard to even force yourself out of bed. You just didn’t feel like doing anything - resulting in your dingy apartment growing filthy with uncleanliness. Boxes of takeout were sprawled across the kitchen counter, bottles of soju and wine - which you had been using to drown out your sorrows - were in every corner of the living room, and your bed was perpetually unmade. 

 You felt like you wore the same two outfits every single day - slacks and a blouse to work, and then baggy sweatpants and a hoodie as soon as you got home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to change - to clean, or to switch up your clothes. 

 It was even hard to eat. You felt nauseous most mornings, so you opted to skip breakfast and instead grab a quick snack at lunch which you forced down your dry throat. 

 Because fuck- was your throat dry. 

 It was mainly due to all of the crying, which would commence every time you would arrive home at night and walk into an apartment that was void of her. You saw Nyx in every corner, every surface of your place. The remnants of her life - of her memories - were hidden in the very fabric of your being and your grungy hovel that you called home. From the way that her food and water bowls were still right next to Taffy’s, how the comfy blanket she liked to curl up in was still positioned on the edge of your living room couch, and the box of her favorite treats that were still sitting atop your kitchen counter, opened long ago and left to grow stale from the chilly air. 

 Taffy was somewhat of a comfort, as she could no doubt sense your change in demeanor. Every time you’d break down into a fit of tears when you walked through your front door after a long, arduous day at work, she’d prance over to you and nuzzle her head into your folded-up legs. She’d lay beside you in bed late at night when the tears would finally stop falling but your heart squeezed and squeezed the life right out of you. 

 Because that’s what it felt like- 

 Like life was slipping right out of your hands, 

 From under your feet, you were slowly falling down that deep, dark hole. 

 But you just couldn’t seem to get yourself out of it, no matter how hard you tried. And try you did - as you forced yourself to go an entire week without breaking down. But then you saw an ad on tv that marketed a nearby cat cafe, and you ugly-cried for the next three days straight. 

 And through the worst of it all, you hated to ask for help. You knew that it was one of your biggest problems, the fact that you had a sort of inability to reach out to others when you needed a helping hand. 

 You all but shut down at work, resisting the invites of co-workers that were going to local clubs. You just sat down at your desk every day, forcing yourself to focus on your work before you could finally go home and sob the night away. 

 And the clinic- 

 Fuck, the clinic. 

 You hadn’t been back there since the day Nyx passed. 

 It just felt too depressing, to try and step foot in the place where she had been laid to rest. What once was a warm and comforting place now left a bitter taste in your mouth. You avoided the building at all costs, instead opting to walk side streets in case you ever needed to pass by it. 

 The pain was too real and raw for you to ever try visiting the clinic again, so you decided that you’d stop altogether and instead find a different place, that was just as close to your apartment but didn’t hold so many horrible memories for you. 

 After all, you’d probably die a slow death if something happened to Taffy because of your inability to take her to a vet. So at the six-month mark, you managed to find a nearby clinic that had relatively low prices. The veterinarian was nice enough, but she was quite serious and mainly only talked business with you. Thankfully, Taffy checked out in perfect health and the doctor recommended that you wait to bring her in until she hit her third birthday, which would be in about a year. 

 The doctor was amiable, but… 

Nothing like Dr. Lee. 

 And the thought of him was fresh in your mind the entire time that you visited the new clinic. The staff at Starry Skies also took up a lot of your focus, as you pondered on the gentleness they had all shown you during such a difficult time in your life. 

 But most of all, your previous local veterinarian kept stirring your heart the entire time that you sat in front of your new one. 

 And you couldn't help but compare her to him- 

 And how he’d always greet you with a warm smile and always laugh whenever you told him one of your stupid jokes. How he was so incredibly nice to everyone he came across, and how delicate he treated the animals at his clinic. But especially Nyx and Taffy… 

 He had had a special bond with your two cats, and you hated to take that away so suddenly. 

 However, the pain of going back there was just too much for you to endure. 

 So instead, you decided to work through your feelings about the old clinic - about Dr. Lee - and put everything to rest before you made a mistake that you knew you’d regret soon after… like dropping by the clinic late one night, unexpectedly. Like you had done that one time when Nyx had given you a big scare. 

 Even still, you caught yourself often pondering if he felt the same way… if he missed your presence at all, even a tiny bit. After all, you had been his client for over three years and had grown quite close throughout all of your visits. But the silence on his end was pretty blatant of his feelings on it all - that you were just another client who had lost touch with his services, and nothing more. Granted, the clinic’s front desk had tried to call you a few times after Nyx’s final day, but you had refused to answer any of the calls, and soon, they stopped altogether. 

 In the end, he was just your veterinarian. He wasn’t supposed to be anything else, anything more. The relationship there was supposed to remain stagnant and professional, no matter what. 

 So why, then, did you find it so hard to get over it all? 

 Your mind and heart were acting like the two of you had been dating for five fucking years. When in reality, you had only shared a platonic acquaintanceship for a few years because of your damn cats. It wasn’t like he thought of you any differently than before, nothing had changed… except for him calling you by your first name, and him touching you so many times and- 

 And yeah, 

 You’d admit that sometimes, after a long bout of successfully pushing him out of your thoughts, 

 You’d… treat yourself. 

 Late at night. 

 But only on very rare occasions… 

 When you were so exhausted from work and searching for a release, 

 When your fingers found that all-too-sensitive part of you, your mind drifting off to fantasizing about him. And what he’d feel like, doing such things to do. 

 Afterward, when you’d wake up the next day to face another grueling routine of mourning Nyx and work, you’d banish any pondering that you had about him, shoving all of that darkness into the very depths of your heart until you’d dredge them up again sometime later. 

 You continued to do such a routine for a long time, and slowly, as the months continued to pass, you realized that the pain… wasn’t so bad anymore. It was still there, and you still cried a few times a month about it. But it just didn’t feel as palpable and potent anymore. Things were different now, not like they had been right after Nyx's passing. It felt like a part of you was missing, and everything seemed a little bit darker. But you knew that with time, things would get better. You would keep Nyx's memory alive in my heart, and you would focus on the good times you shared. Life goes on, and you would do your best to honor Nyx's legacy by living your life to the fullest.

Gradually, you noticed a slight improvement in the mending of your heart. Piece by piece, you were putting it back together every day, by doing things that brought you joy. Recently, you picked up the hobby of cooking. And it felt good- to throw yourself into something that wasn’t work or chores or running errands. Already you had made a handful of dishes in your tiny apartment’s kitchen. Granted, they were nothing special and on the bland side of things, but you didn’t mind… it was, fun. And you liked seeing the finished product in the end. It was satisfying and made you feel proud of yourself, for the progress that you were making, little by little. 

 When you hit the one-year mark of Nyx being gone, you came to the sudden realization that in the wake of your grief, you had been ignoring your other cat, Taffy. And you began to notice how, after you’d arrive home from work, she’d no longer happily greet you at the door, and instead stay lounging on the living room's couch. 

 This opened a huge pit in your heart, as it pained you to acknowledge the fact that you had been so focused on Nyx and her leaving your side that you failed to see your other cat, who was suffering from loneliness. 

 Hence, you decided to take her to that nearby cat cafe that had recently opened up in your neighborhood. You had seen the ads for it on your tv, and you liked the idea of Taffy getting out of your small apartment and playing with other cats. She was a young thing, and quite rambunctious, so you were sure that she felt the absence of Nyx just as much as you.

 It wasn’t until Saturday rolled around that you were able to visit the new cafe, as that was one of your only days off from work. The place was quite busy for being so early in the morning, and as you stepped through the front doors, you were greeted with the cloying aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries. 

 The friendly-looking girl at the cash register welcomed you with a bright smile as you made your way up to the front counter. “Hi there! Welcome to Cats & Cupcakes! What can I get you this morning?” 

 You motioned to Taffy, who was quietly meowing in her carrier to be let out as soon as she glimpsed the other cats that were roaming around the area. She was such a social butterfly - quite the opposite of you. “Uhm- I brought my cat along with me, I hope that’s okay?” 

 The young girl’s smile only grew wider as she caught sight of Taffy. “Oh my gosh, yes! We always welcome a new kitty around here! Just make sure you keep an eye on her during your visit.” 

 “Okay, thanks… Taffy here really needs some social time with other cats,” you laughed nervously, as you bent down and unzipped her carrier. Immediately, she shot out of the small black thing, scurrying over to a few of her furry friends that were playing with a faux mouse just off to the right of you. You couldn’t help the wide grin that bloomed across your face at the sight of her lively personality coming out so quickly. 

 “Will you be ordering anything today?” The girl at the register asked you then, forcing your attention away from your cat and onto the menu board that was hung just above her head. 

 “Yeah- I’m going to have a… lemon meringue cupcake and an iced chamomile tea, please.” With it being so late in the spring, the weather was finally warm enough for you to start drinking cold beverages again, which was one of the few pleasures in your life. 

 In no time at all, you were picking up your order at the front counter and finding a nearby table that was tucked into the very corner of the cafe. As you settled into the comfy armchair, your eyes followed Taffy around the room, as she chased a grey-coated chubby Scottish Fold. 

 You sat back in your seat, taking a sip of your chamomile tea and basking in the sunlight that shone down on you through the window to your left. The cafe was relatively small but bustling with activity. It was decorated with bright colors of violets and yellows, which painted everything in a rather cheerful mood. And of course, the many cats roaming around also helped to add to the atmosphere of happiness. 

 As you studied your surroundings, your eyes landed on the figure of a man sitting in a chair similar to yours. He was by himself, his head turned downward, as he was immersed in a thick book. But he looked so… familiar. From the way that the light blue sweater he was wearing clung to his shoulders, to the way that his brown-rimmed glasses slipped down the sharp bridge of his nose, and the way that his raven-black locks were slightly tousled from the windy morning. A large white cat was lying across his lap, dozing happily as he stroked its back with a hand. The way that his slender fingers gently combed through the kitty's fur lit up a part of your heart with fuzzy warmth. 

 He looked like someone you knew well, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it…

 Just then, a young couple filed through the front doors of the cafe, the tiny bell jingling at the top of the door to signal their welcome. This serene noise prompted the man to peek up from his book and study the newcomers, his eyes landing on the sweet way that they were holding hands.

 And all at once, you completely froze in your place. 

 Spine going rigid, 

 Fingers clutching at your jeans, 

 Heart skipping over itself inside your chest. 

 Because holy fuck- there he was. 

 In all of his handsome, typical glory… 

 No wonder why you felt like you had recognized him. 

 Dr. Lee didn’t look any different from the last time you had seen him, which had already been over a year since Nyx had left your side on that fateful day. He still had that easiness about him, that gentle aura that radiated around him like a faint, glorious halo. 

 But before you could think about anything else, the fear was creeping up in your mind. About what he’d think of you, if he saw you here - at the cafe - after so long of ghosting him and his clinic, even after everything they had all done for you. You were scared that he’d be angry with you for not darkening the doorstep of Starry Skies ever since that past April. 

 And if you were honest, the sadness also played a role in your warring feelings. Seeing him reminded you of so many of your past emotions - of grief and depression and heartache. 

 Before you could do, or even think anything else, he was shifting in his chair again, his opaque, chestnut-brown eyes scanning the cafe around him lazily. 

 Then those expressive irises came across your face, jamming to a stop at the sight of you sitting there, all alone in the corner of the cafe. 

 And your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach. 

 From the way that remembrance automatically dawned on his face, 

 From the way that his eyes lightened in that way that you had been so used to before, 

 From the way that a slight grin cracked across his lips. 

 And suddenly, you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

 Not right then. 

 You didn’t want to face all of the sentiments of seeing him again - of having to talk to him, after everything that had happened in the past year.

 So in a hasty moment, you scooped up Taffy who had been playing near your feet, and gently put her in her carrier ignoring her meows of protest. Then all at once, you were shooting up from your seat and rushing out of the cafe, your shoulders brushing past a woman as she stepped in at the same time you were leaving.

 Since your apartment was fairly close to the cafe, you began to walk down the side street just outside of the restaurant, setting a quick pace. Ignoring the sounds of movement behind you. Trying to block out the sound of someone calling your name. 

 It wasn’t until you felt a hand clamp down on your forearm that you stopped in your tracks. With your back turned you could hear the distinct sound of heavy breathing. The air seemed to constrict and bend around you - shifting uncomfortably and turning irrevocably frigid at the oncoming dread that you expected to appear any second. 

 “Y/N.” 

 The way that he said your name- the way that it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, compressed your heart in pain. Caused the blood to rush a little harder in your veins. Caused a zap of energy to coarse down the length of your spine, pooling deep in your belly. You felt everything at that moment - the painful heat of breath flowing from your form to the way that his touch against your covered arm burned like fire down to the very depths of your soul.

 “Why- why are you running away?” 

 And as much as you wanted to avoid the confrontation, as much as you didn’t want to talk to him again, you decided that there was no longer another option. Because he had you in his grasp, with his fingers pressing into your skin, stopping you right in your place. And as it would seem, it was quite impossible for you to ever try and fight him when he was clasping onto you so delicately.  

 “It’s… it’s too hard,” you began, voice quaking at the end of your words from the ache that squeezed at your heart. “Seeing you- it reminds me of everything.” You screwed your eyes shut, cringy inwardly at the confession.

 There was a few beats of silence then, and you wanted to turn around. At that moment, you wanted to see what he looked like as you spoke in that quiet, shaky tone of yours. You wanted to know what he was feeling, just by the way that his eyes would land on your face. 

 Then, he was speaking again, but this time, he was a lot quieter than before. “Is that why you stopped coming around?” 

 Coming around to the clinic. 

 Stopped visiting Starry Skies and using his services. 

 And yes- at the beginning, the reason for your absence was because of Nyx and your sorrow from losing her. But as the months stretched on, and you started to heal from the agony of her passing, you came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t just because of her.

 It was also the fact that upon your realization that you- 

 That you had feelings for Dr. Lee, 

 You were reminded of your lot in life, about your two opposite positions... that he was a rich doctor and you were just a poor woman barely scraping by with her 9-to-5 job. 

 Even still, that didn’t stop the feelings from bubbling up every time you randomly passed the clinic on your commute to run errands. That's why you decided to avoid it entirely after a while. 

 It was better that way- than trying to face and acknowledge the storm that had been brewing inside of you for so long, without you even realizing it was stirring in the first place. 

 You hadn’t noticed the warning signs until it was all too late, 

 And you were too head-over-heels for him. 

 For the man that was far too unreachable for you. 

“Yeah, that’s why.” You managed to lie, swallowing around the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. You clutched a little harder at the handle of Taffy’s carrier, and thankfully, she was quiet for the moment - she probably recognized the scent of him. Just like you did. 

 “Well, we all miss you at the clinic… the guys are always asking me when you’ll be back,” Dr. Lee started, still holding onto your arm. Like, if he let go, you’d disappear right before his eyes, never to be seen again. Like you had been doing for the past year. “I miss you… you were- one of my favorite clients.” 

 And there it was. 

 Your worst fear for why you never told him about your true feelings. 

 That he only thought of you as his client. 

 Simply a woman that came around every six months so that he could treat her cats. 

 Nothing more, and nothing less. 

 In an instant, you were suddenly glad that you hadn’t turned around - that he hadn’t forced you to. Because you didn’t want to see his face then. Not when he shoved you into the friend zone without even realizing it. Or maybe, he did realize it. Maybe, he had known about your feelings all along but had been ignoring them this whole time because he wanted to keep things professional. 

  Because he just didn’t feel the same way about you… 

 “Well, I should get going. Taffy here doesn’t like being cooped up in her carrier for too long.” 

 With that, you pulled your arm out of his hold. He hadn’t been gripping you harshly, so it was easy for you to release yourself. Almost like, he didn’t want to trap you at the moment. Like, if you didn’t like speaking to him, you’d easily be able to get away without any such fight having to be put up on your end. 

 As you took a few steps forward, Minho’s soothing voice graced your ears once more.“Y/N- wait.” This time, his tone was soft - possibly the gentlest you had ever heard it before. And it did something funny to your soul, caused a low-lit candle to burn in the chasms of your body. Like an ember that just couldn’t be put out. “I… we’re having a party at my place next Friday night to celebrate the clinic’s fourth anniversary of being open. It’s just gonna be me and the guys, and super chill and-”

 “I don’t know, Dr. Lee… I- I don’t want to invade your special time with your friends.” 

 “You wouldn’t be invading, Y/N.” 

 “Still- I just-”

 “Say you’ll come. Please.” 

 The slight desperation that dripped into his baritone caused a profound stir inside of you, igniting something dark and murky in the pit of your mind. It was confusing yet exhilarating all at once, as this high-caliber man practically begged you to come to his homey party. And yeah- it’d probably be awkward as fuck at first since you hadn’t seen everyone in so long. But… you were off of work, and… it was at his place. Which was somewhere you’d always been curious about, if you had to be honest with yourself. 

“Okay, okay- I’ll go.” You finally said, looking down at your feet to try and hide the smile that crept across your mouth at the thought of spending more time with him. Because even if it hurt you- even if he wasn’t the right one, maybe a single night of partying with him would quell the ache inside of you. Would douse the blaze that was alight in your very being just by the thought of him alone. 

 “Great, I’ll text you my address and the time to be there.” And you couldn’t help to notice how he sounded lighter than before - like he was happy to hear that you were coming. You, who had practically ghosted him and everyone else for the past year. You, who was broke beyond belief and barely surviving in the harsh world around you. 

 You held on a little tighter to Taffy’s carrier, feeling the creep of a smile on your lips at the thought of getting to see him again. At getting to face him, finally, without having your back turned in cowardliness. “Well… I’ll see you then, I guess.” 

 “Yeah, have a good night…” His words faded off into the distance, as you began to make the commute back to your quaint apartment. 

 The entire time you walked down the street, you could feel his eyes on you - practically searing two holes into your skin as he stared you down until you turned a corner and eventually grew out of his sight. 

 But it didn’t terrify you in the least bit, like how it usually did when a man looked at you so intently.

 Rather, it caused butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach, 

 Forced your heart to beat a little harder, 

 Urged you to walk a little faster, as you began to ponder on what the party would be like. 

 More importantly, you wondered what you were going to wear to it…  

To be continued...

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#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenario #skz oneshot #skz fanfic #skz scenario #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz fluff and angst #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #skz minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids minho #sskz minho angst #skz minho fanfic #skz minho oneshot #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz minho x reader #skz lee know x reader #stray kids minho x reader #minho #lee Minho

[lamaenthel]

Human Shield

[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: human shield

Darman could smell rain on the wind that gently blew their bedroom curtains. The sun was just beginning to rise, clouds filtering the pink light into cold gray. He buried his face in Etain's hair and took a deep breath.

Characters: RC-1136|Darman Skirata/Etain Tur-Mukan

Wordcount: 876

Darman could smell rain on the wind that gently blew their bedroom curtains. The sun was just beginning to rise, clouds filtering the pink light into cold gray. He buried his face in Etain's hair and took a deep breath.

"Morning." She shifted uncomfortably. Her belly had officially reached massive status, though Darman would cut his leg off before saying it to her face. "Mm. Lemme just…" She flung a sleepy hand in the direction of the window, closing it with her Force powers.

Darman chuckled and kissed the back of her neck. "You could have just asked me to close it, you know."

"Why get up when I can…" She wiggled her fingers. 

Darman took another deep breath of her dewberry blonde hair; she insisted it was brown, as though she'd never seen her own hair in the afternoon light. Her shampoo smelled like sunshine and had some sort of cactus he didn't recognize on the front of the bottle. "I like doing things for you."

"I know you do." She struggled to turn over in his arms. "You don't have to wait on me, Dar. You're not subservient to me."

"I absolutely am." He kissed her neck, and ignored the scowl that popped up in favor of gently biting the thin skin over her pulse point. "I'm your riduur. You're carrying my child. I am subservient to you in every way imaginable, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You're incorrigible," she grumbled.

He laughed. "And how are you feeling this morning, ner Et'ika?"

Etain looked dolefully down at her giant stomach and sighed. "Enormous." 

Darman kept kissing her neck, considering it the smarter option over confirming her opinion. "Do you want a massage?" he mumbled into her skin.

"Maybe later." She caught his hand and guided it to her belly, smiling. "Do you feel your son?"

He nodded, his throat going tight. There was a fluttering pulse under his palm. "He's kicking," Darman said in awe.

"Yeah he is." Etain adjusted herself again and frowned at her big belly. Darman sympathized with her. He'd jumped out of more than one larty hauling more in equipment than what his runt of a wife weighed soaking wet and seven months pregnant.

"He's feisty. Like his mama." Darman kissed her cheek.

"He's a pain in my shebs like his daddy," Etain corrected him. 

"Oh, you know I love it when you speak Mando'a, ner cyar'ika." Darman said, nuzzling her neck. He blew a snozzberry in her throat and made her laugh. "Ner jet'ika, ner mesh'lane cyar'ika, gar dinui ner runi mirjahaal. Ni kartay'li gar darasuum."

"I love you too," she sighed, lacing their hands together over her stomach. "I'm sorry, Dar."

"About what?"

"That we never got to do this." She blinked her big, sad green eyes at him. "We deserved this, but we never had it."

"What are you talking about, Et'ika?" Darman sat up, confused.

Etain just looked at him patiently. "You know what I'm talking about."

"I…" Darman couldn't draw a full breath.

"It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong, my love."

"I…" Not my girl! Not my girl!

"Hey." Etain pulled his face close, pressed their foreheads together. "It was my fault. I've been using a lightsaber since I was four years old. I knew better than to try and stop one with my body."

"Then why did you?" Darman whispered, shaking. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't." She laughed softly. "I wasn't thinking, Dar. I acted on instinct and made a stupid, stupid mistake that cost me my life. I'm sorry you had to watch."

"I miss you." Darman squeezed his eyes shut. "I miss you so much, Etain. I wish you could see Kad. He's… he's like you. He needs you, but he doesn't have you."

"Lucky for him, he has the best dad in the whole galaxy." She kissed his fingers. "I love you, Dar. I will always love you. Ni kartay'li gar darasuum, ner riduur." 

"Etain," Darman said frantically, "Etain, wait—"

"Daddy?"

Darman shot up, instantly awake. He'd never lost that ability, even though it'd been four years since he'd seen active combat. The smell of Etain's shampoo lingered in the air. "Kad?" He held out his arms to the silhouette in the doorway. It was early; the sun had just barely risen, the gray rainclouds above Kyrimorut bleaching the pink dawn into cold gray.

His son dove into his arms eagerly. "You okay, Daddy?" he asked, getting situated.

"Of course, ad'ika. Just a sad dream." Darman fluffed his son's dewberry-blond hair, the same as his mother's. "Let's get some breakfast. Daddy's hungry."

"Was it a mama dream?" Kad didn't seem eager to leave his arms.

Darman sighed. "Yeah. It was a mama dream."

"Well, that's okay then." Kad smiled. "That just means she misses you. That's what she says when I have mama dreams. She comes and sees me 'cause she misses me so much."

Darman didn't want to cry in front of his son, but it was a damn close call. He forced himself to smile instead and threw off the covers. "Come on. Let's make some waffles." He reached up to close the window he'd left cracked the night before and paused.

It was already closed.

Mando'a Translations riduur: spouse ner Et'ika: my little Etain shebs: butt ner cyar'ika: my sweetheart ner jet'ika, ner mesh'lane cyar'ika, gar dinui ner runi mirjahaal. ni kartay'li gar darasuum: my little jedi, my most beautiful sweetheart, you give my soul peace. i hold you in my heart forever ad'ika: child

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

#darman skirata #etain tur mukan #febuwhump #febuwhumpday9 #my writing #etain deserves better #star wars #fanfiction #repcomm #darman x etain

[apprenticestanheight]

THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY FOUR

Christmas Eve- Mike Schmidt x gn! reader

ALLLLLL RIGHT! Merry christmas eve to those who celebrate and happy sunday to everyone who doesn't! I do celebrate, however, and I also absolutely adore mike schmidt despite how minimally I've written for him, so I decided to compensate with a little bit of christmastime smut.

This fic, if it's not already obvious, is for audiences of 18+. Minors go away pls, I have a couple of fics in other genres for mike and do not want you here for this one.

Fic type - this is a little bit of fluff because it feels like most of my fics for this event have had angst undertones! I wanted to change it up a bit and mike deserves a bit of fluff so I went with that!

Warnings - body worship is very much implied, being coerced into sex is mentioned once

December had never really been an easy month in Mikes life. Christmas always ached without his brother around, hurt all the more after his mothers death and hurt his wallet when Abby started getting old enough to remember the gifts she got, but then you came around when Mike was twenty five and you were twenty four and two years out from finishing your masters degree in journalism.

Ever since you'd come along, in the five years since that fateful day at a job where Mike had, amazingly, managed to last six months, things had felt distinctly easier for him.

They were easy enough that, when his father asked to have Abby over through Christmas Eve and some of Christmas Day, after he'd asked Abby if she wanted to, he'd told his father yes.

They were easy enough that smiles came easily to his face and he stopped worrying about cutting costs where he could in the lead up to Christmas shopping, though he still did cut costs somewhat so as to make sure you got a gift that was more than just a bottle of the cologne he used because you adored the way he smelled.

Decembers had become so easy that the tension in his shoulders that always arised within that month had not come since he was twenty six, you'd been living together for six months, and it was your first Christmas together.

However, at twenty-nine and thirty, you're experiencing your first Christmas as a couple without a child in your vicinity, and Christmas Eve takes on a surprisingly normal tone.

Mike goes to work because his boss needs him there and he could use the time and a half. You stay at home, tidy up the living room and then the kitchen and then the bedroom that you share.

You make a list of things that are needed around the house and then go to whatever Christmas markets are open in New Orleans, nipping into one of the open charity shops and grabbing a copy of Stephen Kings novel "Cujo" before you're heading to the animal shelter to help out for an hour.

Once home, you take a second to make sure the tree still looks decent before you head to your bedroom and slip out of the clothes that you'd chosen to wear--a white cable knit sweater and a pair of wide legged jeans with the solovairs that you'd bought on a whim three years prior and had adored ever since--and into clothes that you steal straight from the source. The top left and right drawers of Mikes dresser.

You steal a pair of his boxers and one of the baggier shirts that he owns, surprised to find it's a little baggy on you as well, and settle into bed for the remainder of the day, content to spend your Christmas Eve evening just relaxing with your book and whatever episode of whichever sitcom decides to grace your television screen.

Mike comes home at something like seven thirty, grinning when he sees the state you're in.

"Ordered Chinese," he says. "The restaurant was pretty full when I went but I was told it'd be free if it was delivered more than an hour after I ordered it, so we have a bit of time to waste. Is your book good?"

"Dog with rabies," you shrug. "It's--it's Cujo. Would've read something like A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens but if I'm honest, I am in fact so vain that I chose not to grab it from the charity shop I visited after running errands at the Christmas markets that were open today based on the fact that the cover was ugly."

Mike laughs. "The cover of Cujo aint much better, baby,"

"This is a first edition, thank you very much," you let a bit of sarcasm drip through your tone before you can help yourself, which is something Mike has always liked about you. He's found, in recent, that optimism is indeed nice but sarcasm where applicable will always take the cake. "If it's ever worth much, it could buy us lunch or maybe a week of groceries."

"So you don't like it, then?"

You shrug. Mike sits on the bed. "Dog with rabies," you murmur, setting the book to your right as Mikes hands find your hips. Yours find his shoulders and when you kiss, it's so full of love that it's almost unimaginable. Your kisses have always been that way, always good, never anything less than that. When you kiss Mike, you do it knowing he loves you deeply and that you love him much the same.

When he pulls away, he's looking at you with the same look he always gives you whenever all he wants is to feel you pressed against him, feel his lips against your own, his hands on your hips as he thrusts inside you and encourages you with enough praise to make you boil.

"We've got the house to ourselves," he murmurs against your lips. One of your hands goes to his hair. "I did spoil you with what I grabbed this year, sure, but I got a Christmas bonus. Plus, it's been so long since we've had the time, baby."

You pull him into another kiss and Mike laughs contentedly into it. He leans into you, hands slipping under the shirt you'd stolen from him.

"I love you," he murmurs, lips moving away from yours to press kisses across your jawline and down your neck. "I love your thighs, baby, and your arms, and your stomach, and your stretch marks."

You adjust your neck, turning it slightly to allow him better access. "I love your voice, I love your hands, I love the way that you look in one of my shirts. I love you so, so much, Y/N."

You let him break the kiss to pull the shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room knowing he'll relocate it later.

You realize, really quickly, why Mike is being so sweet.

It's not to sweeten the deal or to try to coerce you into sex--Mike isn't that kind of person. He's made it clear time and time again that either both of you want it or neither of you do--but because he knows how work has been for you.

Work has been terrible. You've been getting a couple of good stories--including one about a run down pizzeria with too many animatronics to count--and it's gotten really competitive with the holidays.

But your news station would be closed until the 31st, and you didn't need to worry about competing with your coworkers anymore. And Mike knew that, but still, he was being sweet because he knew you needed him to be. You needed praise and a bit of extra attention, so he would provide you with both.

You lay down on the bed and let Mike kiss you all over, taking his time with you like he would've early on in your relationship. When he takes off the boxers you'd stolen he laughs, kisses your hip and calls you a thief of amazingly ethereal proportions.

You let yourself get lost in how good his touches, his kisses and his sweet nothings feel, moan when he starts doing all the things that drive you insane and love him for moaning at the way that you scratch his back, breaking the skin but not drawing blood.

And then you're fumbling for a condom, kissing Mike deeply as you roll it onto his length, pulling him as close as he can be as he bottoms out in you and waits for you to adjust.

"You're amazing," he says when he starts thrusting. "You're so good to me, Y/N. I don't deserve you, yeah? I don't deserve someone who treats me this good."

"You do," you're shocked that you're able to speak, so blissed out from the way that he feels. "You deserve me, Mikey. Please don't think otherwise. Love you so much, Mike. Wanna make sure you know that while you treat me like I'm some kind of a god."

Mike laughs, quickens his pace just enough. "You might as well be," he says teasingly, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

You're coming around him within minutes of the continued praise and the way that he holds you, and your release triggers his. You both moan out, and while you lay still, staring at the ceiling, Mike throws the condom away.

You go and pee to avoid a UTI, start up a shower. You and Mike shower together, holding onto each other tightly and lovingly while you talk about how much driving you'll have to do tomorrow, make jokes at one anothers expenses and share kisses while you wait for the conditioner to set.

All in all, it's the perfect end to a perfect Christmas Eve.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddys movie #fnaf

[echo-rambles]

Fuck it- it's fine!

words: 1830 summary: inspired by the general vibe of bad idea right? by olivia rodrigo. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend bang chan, best friend felix, suggestive content but nothing explicit note: first ever reader insert fic I've written! that's probably why it's pretty introspective and there's not much chan. I just wanted to get the feeling of writing reader insert so I hope it's not too terrible! please enjoy~

-o0o-

To be completely fair, you were the one who messaged him first. Could it be seen as slightly desperate? Maybe. But in your defense, you were pretty drunk and left unsupervised.

That doesn��t mean it’s not a complete shock to your system when you wake up the next morning and notice that he messaged you back. Which, ok. What an absolutely wild turn of events seeing as how he’s meant to be the mature adult of the relationship. (his words, thrown out midst argument) 

Once you blink away the hungover fog and wade through the low lying panic, you find it a little funny, actually. Your text, the first between the two of you in months, is embarrassing and filled with a few too many emojis- it’s the epitome of a drunk text to your ex who you might have been missing at the peak of your intoxication. 

The funny part is that he had texted back, playing into your theatrics. Maybe it’s not funny in a haha way. Maybe it’s funny in an ironic sort of way. The guy that once told you that you’re incredibly impulsive and never think things through, replying to you and not even scolding you. 

Ok, so maybe he was a little bit correct and you are impulsive, because the next thing you know your fingers are tapping away at your phone screen and you're replying to his reply as if this is something the two of you still do. There’s been a whole lot of maybes filling up your head far too early in the morning, but maybe this could be something you two do. Like, maybe it can become normal again. 

>I hope you’re drinking water to combat all the vodka you must have drank to use seven whole emojis in a row. 

<I demolished an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me 

You’ve crawled your way out of bed and are in the middle of trying to wash up to feel human again when your phone buzzes. Thankfully you’re alone in your bathroom or else it would be embarrassing how quickly you check who the new text is from.

Before you can unlock your phone and reply to the notif saying something about ‘RIP you should’ve drank three…’ another message pops up, staring at you from the lock screen, half of the message fading off in an ellipses. 

You still have his contact saved. Somehow that’s the first thing you think, so incredibly belatedly. In your defense you thought deleting it would be stupid, seeing as how you share friends and what if Felix was in trouble and the only way anyone could reach you was through your ex-boyfriend? It’s a flimsy excuse but you clung to it at the time. 

For a while his contact was changed to HEARTBREAKER, all in caps with broken heart emojis book ending it. At some point you changed it again, hating the reminder the name would elicit every time you scrolled past it. It just made you feel bad, to be honest. Not in a guilt way, but in the way of it settling all weird in your stomach. 

So now he’s filed under a very polite and professional Bang Christopher Chan. It feels safer this way. The least amount of intimacy possible. 

Looking at it now, knowing that there’s multiple messages attached to it because you were drunk and then half asleep and he’s apparently a child who can’t just ignore you- it feels like a stupidly personal inside joke. Which is stupid. It’s his name. 

>I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we c…

This is not something you can read by yourself while still hungover and sleepy. Absolutely not. Any sort of question he has will have to be dealt with once you’ve consumed a sufficient amount of caffeine. 

“What do you think it says?” You ask, a little bit later after your second cup of coffee. 

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood. 

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and waking up your phone to stare at the lock screen. The silence stretches on as he stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer. 

“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk to him-”

“I’m aware of what I said! But that was also like, months ago, and we’re both totally over it-”

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if a few months is long enough-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.” 

Felix says your name, with that specific tone like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. So, like a normal, emotionally stable adult, you completely ignore him and instead scoop up your phone. Suddenly the nerves over wondering exactly what Chan wanted to ask you have been replaced with a confidence only born from needing a distraction. 

Finally, you read the text he sent. 

>I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later? 

Oh. Definitely the beginning of a very bad idea. 

<you paying??

>Of course I am >When was the last time you paid?

Uncalled for, but also completely fair.

<then sure count me in

It all feels way too easy. Like the last few months have just been- what, erased? Ignored? Boxed away so you can talk about it later? But hey, that’s a problem for the future version of yourself. 

“Did you just agree to spend time with him?” Felix asks, because of course he does. Are you really that predictable? 

“Maybe.”

Shaking his head, Felix sits back in his seat. “You know I love you both, but I don’t know if this is a great idea.”

“It doesn’t have to be romantic! We’re just meeting up, like friends do.” The silence is practically palpable. “We can be friends! We’re both adults- we can totally be friends.” 

Felix gives you possibly the most pitying look you’ve ever seen on his angelic little face.

-o0o-

Ok. Maybe you can’t be friends. The two of you started off as friends, definitely. You built your whole relationship off of being friends. But somewhere along the way something got all gummed up. Being together dissolved into months of barely even talking to each other. 

You were hoping that could change tonight. After getting all dressed up- because you wanted to feel pretty and you couldn’t remember the last time you got dressed up, thank you very much Minho. With his judging eyebrow and the way he clicked his tongue when you told him about the text messages and your dinner plans. Just because you were meeting up with someone who you used to give hickeys to had nothing to do with the dress you wore. 

(it absolutely did but no one had the right to know.)

It started off as just something casual. Stilted awkward conversation as you both tried to remember how to be civil around each other. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and god Felix was right, you’re so incredibly weak. 

You wanted to try and be friends again so badly. But you were absolutely lying to yourself, big time, because the second that he smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip, oh you were gone. 

Currently you’re being pinned to the wall with his tongue down your throat and you can’t really think straight. 

Somehow you went from a casual get together to this. Attacking each other's faces like starving animals who haven’t eaten in weeks. It’d be embarrassing if it weren’t for the way Chan is so clearly feeling the exact same things you are. Your hands are running through his hair and his hands are anchored to your hips, and he still tastes the same. He still makes the same little noises when you drag your teeth along the edge of his jaw. 

It’s so fucking familiar and you already feel like you could drown in it. 

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn. 

You should say something though, right? Right? 

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine. 

“Is this a bad idea?” You ask, once you remember how to use words. 

He stops short, as if he’s just remembered not only did he leave the oven on but he also left incredibly flammable items near it. A little shocked and worried and second guessing. Which, you’re not really sure what sort of reaction you were hoping for but you should have expected this at the least. He’s a chronic over-thinker sometimes. 

It’s fine, it’s cute even. When it’s not annoying you to no end. Sometimes you need his specific brand of cautious energy, a voice helping you recognize when something actually is a terrible idea because you didn’t realize before he pointed it out. Other times, like now, you already know the answer to your own question and you seriously do not need him to answer. It was rhetorical, thank you very much. 

“Um, well- I-” He stumbles over his sentence, breathing hard and face flushed.

“Nevermind, don’t answer that. Just kiss me.” 

Thankfully Bang Chan is very good at going along with your bad ideas. 

You can deal with whatever all of this means after. Right now, the both of you are wearing far too much clothing and you need to fix that immediately. 

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #echo writes #I actually had a lot of fun writing this #maybe I'll make a part 2 or write something else if i get inspired! #i promise bang chan is my bias vgkjdfkfjgd

[airandyeah]

Chuuya X F!Reader (Angst)

warnings: angst, I wrote this instead of sleeping, I wrote this cause I've had an angsty love song stuck in my head and me and my boyfriend had a huge argument about how he thinks everything is his fault. So. I am probably crying while writing. I have the song Another Love by Tom Odell stuck in my head cause it roots to some of my trauma 😭

There will be comfort at the end. Don't be alarmed.

Y/N and Chuuya had been together for months now. Almost seven in fact. They had their ups and their downs. This was one of the downs. Chuuya was always afraid of Y/N leaving him. He thought that someone could make her happier and often slipped a "you can find someone else, someone better, cause I don't know why you deal with me" into his arguments.

He had said it in this argument too, but quickly grabbed his hat and jacket and left their apartment. Y/N tried to stop him, but he didn't listen. He had tears in his eyes as he left to take a drive on his motorcycle to clear his thoughts. (Auto correct wanted him to clear his thighs lol)

~~~

Chuuya expected to come back to Y/N already asleep but was shocked to find her in the kitchen opening a bottle of strong whiskey. She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Chuu..." she started softly. He took his hat and jacket off placing them on the rack by the door and walked up next to her. He grabbed a bottle of his own choice in drink, wine.

"Chuuya, I'm sorry about earlier, please forgive me my love, I never meant to make you feel like you don't make me happy or any- hmph!" He interrupted her with his finger pressed into her lips. "It's okay my love, its not that you make me feel that you don't make me happy, I'm just scared that there's someone better..." He trailed off at the end.

They both said in silence, both moving simultaneously to drink right from their bottles.

"Chuu, you're the love of my life. Before you I... I tried loving others. But they weren't right for me. You... You are. I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you" Y/N said, tears streaming down her face. "Shhhh shh shh, don't cry love. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I love you too" Chuuya told her, holding her face and wiping her tears as they fell.

He kissed her all over her face before lifting her up to carry her to their shared bed. Wine and whiskey forgotten. He laid her down and got in the bed. As soon as he did Y/N laid on his chest, as he whispered 'i love you's' and 'youre the one for me too's' . Until they feel asleep in each other's arms.

~The End~

Wrote this through 11:11, make a wish everyone!

#chuuya nakahara #x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #i wrote this instead of sleeping #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs

[polyhexian]

TMI.

Read a story about sexual abuse that really made me reflect on my own, and I sort of wonder if I kind of acknowledged it without actually confronting it. I've never really hidden the fact my first relationship was when I was eighteen with a man seven years older than me who had spoken to his friends when I was seventeen that he was just waiting for me to turn and had "called" me so everyone else needed to back off, including the people around me that were my age. I moved in with him basically immediately and he separated me from my family and non mutual friends. I remember googling "is sex supposed to hurt?" After I lost my virginity because of how painful and unpleasant the experience was. "did you really think I was going to date a kid forever?" Was something he said when he broke up with me. And he wanted to "be a big brother figure" to me afterward and for months I clung obsessively to every iota of attention he gave me. I remember crying myself to sleep every night, and not like said silent tears, like open-mouthed wailing so loud my neighbors banged on the wall and told me to shut up. But I was in genuinely physical pain, I hadn't known before that how it could actually hurt like, physically, and so BADLY.

And you know I concluded I was asexual when I was fourteen, something he wanted to fix and said so. Actually I recall I was seventeen the first time he gave me alcohol, and how we went to huge parties where I'd chug shot after shot after shot to prove I belonged there.

It's sort of weird to actually think about how incredibly stereotypical it was now, straight out of the textbook, you know, and how even knowing that it always feels like I'm being a little unfair, he might have been bad, but he never hit me or anything, it wasn't truly abuse, and ultimately I WAS a truly toxic person back then, mean as hell. It feels, at times, like it was more mutual toxicity, but I know that it wasn't. No matter what a shithead I was, it was obvious I was a victim there, even if I feel weirdly guilty for thinking that, like I'm being almost manipulative with the way I portray myself as a victim. Real cognitive dissonance there. Even then I've never really been able to apply the r word to myself there even though I literally woke up once to him jerking himself off with my unconscious hand and then rolled over onto my half-asleep body to fuck. What else do you call that? At the same time, I remember finding it really exciting at the time and even saying afterward I wanted to do that again, which I think honestly disappointed him because he never did it again. And then of course there's the time his dumbass sexual idiocy put me in the hospital and nearly got me fucking killed, probably legitimately the closest I've ever come to death. 105 degree fever, man, that's reaching the territory of causing brain damage. It's nuts how many years literally unable to speak about it out loud because how humiliated I was by it.

I suppose the older I get the more I appreciate how genuinely bad it was and how much worse it got when I got dragged to another continent and fully separated from every human being I knew other than him, including internet friends. And how wild it was that by the time I left Beijing I was literally swigging from a bottle of vodka every morning for work and keeping them in my backpack to just drink whenever, straight from the bottle. And how I've cheekily said oh, yeah, I used to be an alcoholic before, sort of in passing, but like- I mean, I was? That's sort of hard to deny now.

It feels quite odd to reflect on this evening and it occurs to me I've never really spoken about it in detail before, I've mentioned individual things, probably all of this stuff separately, but never really at once. I suppose I sort of thought I was over it, and I sort of am? At the same time, the fact I have so much to say really indicates I probably am not, even if it feels like it.

None of this is a secret or anything, I've shared it all publically before and never really been worried about other people knowing- other than that one incident- I mean I fully understand any person that would ever try to make me feel bad or embarrassed about it is like, a fucking sociopath who's opinion is completely irrelevant. And I think virtually every afab person alive has experienced some kind of traumatic sexually flavoured incident in their lives, even if it was relatively minor, so I think no one would ever be particularly surprised by the revelation.

Odd night. They stopped my medication for my seizure study and I suspect a week off my antidepressants has had a pretty profound affect on my mood lol. I think it's starting to restabilize, though, at least, but I suspect it will be a few more days before I feel normal again.

[vorish-wonderland]

Floyd has been bothering Riddle a bit too much recently. Riddle, who's been studying shrinking spells for an assignment in class, realizes he has the perfect way to get Floyd to stop annoying him.

Includes: soft/safe vore, unwilling prey, a sequel scenario to Let's Play Hide & Seek~!

✮✶True Or False✶✮

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

Riddle was studying in the library again. It's still quite a peaceful experience, but...

Ever since the incident with Floyd last month, Riddle hasn't exactly liked being alone in the library.

Not to mention Floyd's been annoying him even more this past month.

"Hey hey Goldfishie~ You tasted so good, can I eat you again~?"

"Goldfishie, you should talk to Azul and make a contract! That way I can eat you again when you break it~!"

"Ehehe, I just felt so good with you in there~ Mmmmhmhm... you filled me up so well, Goldfishie~"

"C'mon, just let me get a lick, Goldfishie~!!"

Riddle sighed, and just continued studying one of his spell books. This project includes learning a shrinking spell, huh...? It sure would be fun to get back at Floyd for what happened by, like, shrinking him and putting him in a jar he can't get out of, or something... yeah, that'd be funny.

"Hey Goldfishie~!!"

Speak of the devil...

"Goldfishie, I just had a really fun idea for something we can do together~!"

Riddle clutched at his stomach as Floyd spoke. He'd woken up surprisingly late today with no time to eat breakfast... he was regretting that decision now.

Suddenly, Riddle got an idea.

He grabbed his magic pen from his breast pocket and quickly cast the spell he was studying on Floyd.

"Woah, what was that, Goldfish?" Floyd asked. "My body's feelin' all weird..."

In almost less than a second, Floyd shrunk to about the same size Riddle was during the incident last month.

Riddle picked up Floyd and placed him down on the table in front of him.

"Am I dreaming?" Floyd asked. "If so, why aren't you a goldfish, Goldfishie?"

"...I've been wondering things about merfolk recently." Riddle said. "Let's play a little true or false game, Floyd."

"Huh-?"

"True or false..." Riddle unscrewed the cap to his water bottle. "Even when under the effects of a potion... a merman will revert to his true form when exposed to water. True or false, Floyd...?"

"Psh, false, obviously-" Riddle suddenly poured some water onto Floyd.

"Hm. Seems you were wrong." Riddle said, looking down at Floyd, still tiny but now in his merform. "Next question... before merfolk were recognized as people, many of them were caught and used as food. True or false, Floyd?"

"H-hey wait, Goldfishie, you... you aren't about to-"

"True. Though humans have tried to bury this fact." Riddle explained, picking up Floyd. "Final question. I'm hungry enough to eat anything right now. True. Or. False. Floyd."

"I'm... I-I'm gonna hope it's... false...?"

Riddle simply smiled, before putting Floyd tail-first into his mouth.

"Hang on Goldfishie!! Let's talk this out! You, y-you don't really want to eat me, right?!" Floyd actually started panicking.

Riddle made sure to enjoy this.

And then, he swallowed.

"Hahaha! Good joke, Goldfishie!! Y-you really got me-!"

Again.

"No! Goldfish don't eat morays! That's just not how this works! So you gotta stop this, Goldfishie!"

Again. At this point, Floyd's whole tail was in Riddle's throat.

"GOLDFISHIE PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!"

Riddle thought it was funny, hearing Floyd panic like this. He enjoyed being the more powerful one.

"Goldfishie... I-I'm begging you, please don't-"

Riddle swallowed one final time, making sure to do so before Floyd could finish speaking.

Riddle exhaled contently. Floyd tasted... terrible, probably because of his weird eel slime. But, despite the terrible taste, Riddle still enjoyed feeling Floyd go down...

Meanwhile, Floyd was freaking out because oh my seven Goldfishie just fucking ate him.

"Thank you for the snack, Floyd." Riddle contently licked his lips.

Riddle continued going about his day as if he didn't have one of the Leech twins in his stomach.

He found himself involuntarily blushing whenever he felt Floyd's little squirming movements.

This is about the time contact breakers start panicking and begging to get out... they start taking about how it's starting to 'hurt' and they'll do 'whatever Azul tells them to' if they're let out. Floyd wasn't in any pain, but... there's almost no water in here, which is not great for him, seeing as he's stuck in his merform...

"Hey, Goldfishie..." Floyd said. "It's gettin' kinda hard to breathe in here... c-could ya maybe... I dunno, let me out and pour some water on me...?" He asked, scratching at the moving walls of Riddle's stomach.

"Hmhm... that tickles, Floyd." Riddle mockingly said. "And relax, you're safe in there~"

"...why does that sound so familiar?"

"Because you said almost that exact sentence to me when you ate me, Floyd." Riddle angrily said.

"Oooohhhhh... oh, oh yeah, that... that makes sense..." Floyd said to himself. "It's a sorta dramatic irony thing, yeah?"

"I simply wanted to get back at you for eating me." Riddle said, taking a large sip of water. "I'm not going to let you out for a while, by the way. But don't be worried, I used a spell to temporarily halt digestion, you'll be fine."

"...I'm still gonna suffocate, Goldfishie."

"Are you?"

And then, a rush of water flooded the tight area.

"Huh. Guess not." Floyd said, now surrounded by water. "You're reeeal petty, y'know that, Goldfishie?"

"FOR WANTING TO GET BACK AT YOU FOR EATING ME?!"

"Well when you put it like that..."

"Although..." Riddle contently poked at his full stomach. "I'm starting to understand why you liked having me inside of you~"

"Good to see we're starting to understand each other." Floyd said, mostly to himself. "So... could you maybe let me out~?"

"No."

"Yeah, should've expected that..."

This was a learning experience for both boys.

Riddle learned he likes the taste of eel, and Floyd learned he doesn't like being eaten.

#tbh the idea of floyd being a prey is funny to me #bc like he's one of the leech twins #a terrifying moray eel merman who absolutely gives pred energy #and being eaten by riddle of all ppl? very funny at least imo #soft vore #safe vore #twst vore #twisted wonderland vore #riddle rosehearts #floyd leech #gt vore #v.ore #v/ore #florid #furorido #floyd x riddle

[jeysbvck]

freedom (is standing next to you) - chapter 6.

author note: once again, credit to @rishlurh for my header & banner! hope you all enjoy this chapter, please let me know if you do, i'm not 100% convinced i should continue! and again, PLEASE REBLOG.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: one mention of rape, main characters injured, violence. im not sure if ive forgotten anything so pls let me know if i have!

taglist (if you wanna be added/removed, just let me know!): @tinalbion @maplefire18 @honeyglee @mercurial-make-em-ups @valeriiecameron @azaleaforsure @stylesxmunson

summary: an attack on the ship interrupts you & eddie, and everything makes you re-examine your feelings.

If seven months ago, someone had told you'd be standing in Captain Eddie Munsons quarters, you'd have called them insane. There were a surprising number of lanterns dotted around the place, and between those and the sheer amount of trinkets he had, the place had a glow about it. This was by far more trinkets than Robin had, and you couldn't help but smile as you thought about the two of them having a competition of who could collect the most. There were paintings on the wall, some were in frames, and so beautiful, they looked like they should be hung up in a museum, whereas some looked like they'd been done by an amateur. They weren't bad, however, the artist had done them had an incredible talent, and the fact Eddie had them on the walls told you that they meant a great deal to Eddie. You walked towards a cabinet full of weapons, some guns you recognised from Nancy's books, but it was the swords that intrigued you. One was silver, with random carvings etched into the black hilt, while another was all black, with a single ruby in the middle of the hilt. You ran your finger over one of the daggers carefully as you walked towards another shelf of trinkets, making a mental note to check out the bookcase that caught you eye from the other side of the room.

You were immediately drawn to a small, round silver box that seemed to shine brighter than the things around it. It was beautiful, with pale blue ornate markings that almost looked like jewels when the light hit it. It was heavier than you anticipated, and when you opened it, the gentle lullaby instantly transported you to being a little girl again, lying in bed in your mother's arms as she showed you her own music box, one different from this, but with the same melody. One that had been lost long ago.

"A drink for the lady." Eddie said. You turned on your heels and closed the box, the music stopping abruptly. You took the drink from Eddie's outstretched hand and put the music box back where you'd found it. "What do you think?"

"Of what?" You asked, and Eddie rolled his eyes as he gestured around the room. You followed his hand, and almost choked on the rum you were drinking when you saw the large, four poster bed. Eddie smirked, his eyes glued to you as you tried to drink away the thoughts of Eddie in the bed.

"Is the Captain's quarters everything you thought it would be?" He asked. There was something in his voice, something you couldn't quite put your finger on, but you didn't like it all the same.

"Eddie, I've literally never thought about this room before."

"Yeah? You sure about that?" Eddie arched his eyebrow, the corner of his lip arching ever so slightly, but just as smugly. Okay, sure, maybe you'd thought about what goes on behind these doors, especially when Eddie and Steve stayed locked in here for days, and there might have been a couple of sleepless nights when your thoughts drifted to Eddie being in bed, and if he was thinking about you. But you'd never tell him about those rare happenings.

"Yeah, Eddie, I'm sure." You said firmly, refusing to break eye contact. Eddie chuckled under his breath and sat down on his bed. He patted the empty space next to him, but not before pointing to the bottle of rum next to you. You rolled your eyes as you grabbed it and sat next to Eddie, handing off the bottle as you did. Although you were gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, you could tell it was as comfortable as it looked and you mentally cursed yourself as your brain conjured up another image of Eddie in bed.

Never really one for small talk, Eddie jumped right into it. "What's going on, Princess? And let's not waste time with you pretending everything's fine. You've banished yourself from the cabin, has something happened?"

"No, nothing's happened. It's just been a strange few days. Nancy and Robin have been on my case for weeks about...something, and nothing I say can persuade them that they're wrong, and then today, I walked in on- wait, do you know?"

"Do I know...what? Oh, about Robin and Nancy?"

You gasped and pointed your finger at him, "So Robin did tell you! How long have you known? I can't believe she told you and Nancy didn't te-"

"Whoa Princess, Robin hasn't told me anything, I mean, it's pretty obvious though, it's written all over their faces!" Eddie laughed. "So wait, what did you walk into?"

"They were kissing!"

"And that's why you banished yourself from the cabin?"

"Yeah, kinda." You sighed, as Eddie filled your glass up again.

"Wow, didn't take you for that kinda person." Eddie replied and your eyes widened. "What? No, Eddie," You sighed and rubbed your forehead. "I don't care that they're both women, and it's, whatever, that Nancy didn't tell me. It's just, Robin made a comment about not being able to...spend time together, because there's three of us, and it hit a sore spot, so I thought I'd give them space." You explained.

"So that explains the self-banishing, but what about the other thing? You were so jumpy, it was like you weren't present."

You chuckled slightly and shook your head. "Now that, really was nothing, it was just me being slightly too lost in my thoughts." You really didn't want to talk about it, but one look at Eddie confirmed he was never going to drop it.

"Come on, we're friends. Talk to me." Eddie insisted, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. There was that word again, friends. It felt like he was really pushing the friend rhetoric, and it was weird. Had Robin said something, to Eddie, or to Steve, who'd told Eddie? She wouldn't go that far, right?

"Eddie," You whined. Before you could say anything else though, Eddie cut you off.

"Before you decline, just remember, I'm the Captain, and I can, and will, annoy you to death before I give up."

"Wow, what a power trip." You replied. "Alright, fine, Captain, but only because you're really annoying." You held out your glass and Eddie obliged, filling it to the brim. You finished half the glass in one drink, then looked down at sloshing brown liquid.

"I'm scared, okay? I'm scared I killed my father."

Eddie was silent for a moment, but it felt like forever. He places his glass on the crate next to his bed and was clearly choosing his words carefully. "When did you kill your father? I thought you left in the middle of the night?"

"No, not by my hands. But, Eddie, what if my actions killed him? What if running away, getting on this ship, what if I killed him? Why didn't I just stay?"

Eddie's expression softened at the sight of you spiralling. Speaking it out loud didn't help the weight that was crushing you and it didn't silence that voice in your head. All it did was make you seem crazy, because it was crazy. You knew it was. Eddie replaced the glass you were holding with his hand, and squeezed your hand as hard as he could three times, which brought your focus back to him.

"You know why you didn't stay." Eddie said, softly. "It wasn't what you wanted and it wasn't what your mother wanted either. Your father let his grief consume him, and it made him forget what- and who- was important. You just did what you had to do. Look, your dad could be alive and well, but if he isn't, that's on him. You didn't kill him."

Every time you interacted with Eddie, he surprised you, and this was no different. He didn't really show this side of him around the crew, which made sense, being the Captain, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was like this around anyone else, or if it was just you. "I know that, up here." You replied, tapping your temple with your finger. "But in here," you add, placing your hand on your chest, "I don't know, it feels...like my head is lying to me. And shouldn't you always go with your heart, not your head?"

"Not when your heart is a lying jackass. No offence." He said with a grin and you smiled in spite of yourself. "I know it feels like, if you lose your father, you lose the last thread of your family, but that's not true."

"It's not? Because it sure feels like it is."

"No! Because you can make your own family. Family doesn't always mean related by blood. It's who you'd fight for, who you'd do anything to protect, who you'd die for."

"Thanks Eddie, truly. I know it's stupid, but I guess when you don't tell anyone, things can manifest."

"You haven't spoken to Nancy about this? Well, I feel honored." Eddie lifted up your chin and grinned. "I'm here for you, okay?"

You nodded, unable to look away from Eddie, just as he couldnt from you. His eyes darted to your lips, and your chest tightened. A loud crash came from above, making you look up. "Should we be worried?" You whispered, but Eddie shook his head.

"They're idiots, they've probably just dropped something." He whispered, tracing your jawline with his finger before cupping your cheek. He leaned in ever so slightly, giving you the option of pulling away. You were frozen to the spot, the way Eddie was softly stroking your cheek was intoxicating, unable to remove yourself from the trance that his touch had put you under. But once again, the universe had other plans.

There was another loud crash, only this time, it was from the door to Eddie's quarters, and there stood Steve, gasping for breath. "Cap, you gotta come, it's- we're under attack!"

Eddie jumped up and raced to his weapon cabinet. He grabbed his gun, a dagger and a sword, while Steve was shouting details at him.

"Is it the Royals?" Eddie asked, and Steve shook his head.

"I don't think so, but it could be. It's chaos up there, hurry!"

You attempted to follow Steve, but Eddie pulled you back. "You're staying here." He said, his tone had shifted back to Pirate Captain, but you shook your head. "You cannot come up there! Best case scenario, it's the Royals. Worst case is it's more pirates, and they will rape you before they give you up for the bounty!"

Nausea took over your body, but you stood firm. "Nancy's up there, Eddie! I can't stay here while she's up there!" You yelled. Eddie grabbed your face in his hands, and forced you to look into his eyes.

"I swear to you, I will protect Nancy. I won't let anything happen to her. But you, you gotta stay down here, please."

You groaned and pulled yourself from Eddie's grip, but nodded in defeat. The fact you had to sit down here and wait, well you hated it. You knew there wasn't really much you could do up there; apart from being in the way and being a huge liability, but with Nancy up there, you didn't care about yourself at all. You just wanted her to be safe. "I promise, okay?" Eddie said, and you nodded, reluctantly. He brought your hand up to his face and placed his lips against your knuckles, before he tilted his head to a door that you hadn't noticed before. "It's a closet, if you hear anything outside that door, get in there as fast as you can." And with one last look, Eddie followed Steve out to the war zone above.

You weren't sure how long you were sitting on the floor; hugging your knees, just waiting, listening to the sounds of death coming from above. You had no idea if anyone on the crew was okay, or what was even happening. But then, a loud bang against Eddie's door echoed, then shouting, followed by more banging. You looked to the closet, but you were too far away, so you opted for the closest thing. You crawled underneath the bed and held your hand against your mouth as the door splintered open seconds later. You watched feet wander around the room and trinkets get thrown to the floor, and your hand got tighter against your mouth.

Your heart almost gave out as you let out the loudest scream possible as someone grabbed your ankle and pulled you out from under the bed. You kicked out with your free foot, and a second attacker pulled you up by your hair. "Shut up, bitch!" He hissed. You fought as much as you could, managing to claw at his face. He let go of you and you raced to the weapons cabinet and swiped a dagger off it, before being punched in the face and thrown against the wall.

"Look what the Captain's been hiding away." The pirate sneered. "I could still get a pretty penny after I've finished with you, even with that black eye." His finger ran down your cheek, but it made your skin crawl, it didn't feel anything like when Eddie did it. "I'm going to enjoy my time with y-"

You pulled the dagger out of his abdomen and he fell against you as the light left his eyes. You pushed the lifeless body to the floor and stumbled towards the closet. Before you could get there, a defeaning Pop! echoed out, and you hit the floor.

You rolled over onto your back, unable to hear anything but the sound of ringing in your ears. As the attacker stalked towards you, you scrambled backwards, still gripping the dagger, and pain excruciating from your shoulder, but you pushed through it. When the attacker leaned down to grab you, you sliced his arm as hard as you could.

"Bitch!" He spat, and as he picked you up off the floor, you punctured his neck with the dagger. He staggered back and grabbed at his neck, and you let out an agonising scream when your shoulder broke your fall.

You watched, terrified, as your attacker stumbled around, spluttering up blood. When he clattered to the wooden floor, it fell silent, and let out an anguished sob as you lay on the floor. You reached up to your shoulder and looked at your hand, blood seeping through your fingers, and you frowned, confused, as a sheet of black began to drape over you, but Nancy's voice made your eyes snap open.

"Oh my God, Robin, come help me!" She yelled, and your two friends hovered over you. Nancy cradled your head and she moved some hair from your face. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. "Are you okay?!" Robin asked for her.

"I think so." You said, breathlessly. "Are you okay?" Robin nodded, and you looked back to Nancy. "Nance, are you okay?"

Nancy nodded, but tears threatened to escape her eyes. "Nance? Are you hurt?" She shook her head. "It's not me, it's-"

Nancy stopped talking as Jonathan and Steve came bundling into the room, shouting and carrying an unconscious Eddie. "Steve! Get him on the bed!" Jonathan yelled and tried to sit up, letting out a sharp hiss as you caught your shoulder.

"What? Is he okay?" You asked, your voice panicked and high. Nancy and Robin both helped you up, and you rushed to Eddie's side, Robin helping you into the chair she had dragged across the room for you. His face looked so peaceful, but when you looked at the injuries, a sob got caught in your throat. Blood had dried and stained his white shirt, and you were pretty sure that was a bullet hole in his shoulder. "What happened?!"

"He, uh- I don't-" Steve was a wreck, standing on the other side of his Captain, just staring down at him. Jonathan and Nancy had taken charge, Nancy was already ripping your shirt, and was about to use alcohol to clean your own shoulder wound, while Jonathan was ransacking the room

"He saved Nancy's life." Robin muttered. "He practically jumped in front of the bullet."

Your eyes left Eddie and shot up to Steve, wide and teary, but Steve firmly shook his head. "No, don't even think that."

"Steve." You said, while Nancy and Robin both asked at the same time, "What's going on?"

Steve walked around the bed and crouched down in front of you. "He's the Captain, even if he hadn't promised you, he'd have still done it. He'd have taken that bullet for any one of us on this ship."

You knew Steve was right, and you nodded. You reached out and took his hand, and gave it a tight squeeze before letting go and taking Eddie's limp hand. Jonathan cut Eddie's shirt off, as he and Steve cleaned the wound. Everyone was silent while Nancy cleaned yours, and you pulled your fingers gently through Eddie's curls as you begged him quietly to come back to you.

"Come on, you need to rest." Nancy urged you once your own wound was cleaned and wrapped, and you shook your head. "Please, just a few hours. He's still going to be here in the morning." But still, you shook your head. You weren't going anywhere, not until he was awake, no matter how long it took.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #eddie munson x reader #my writing* #pirate eddie munson #eddie munson au #stranger things au

[thekoopalingsandstuffs]

Since the OP isn't feeling well-

What do all these lovely characters do when they're having a "sick day"?

Jr: "I usually take a nice, hot bath at some point!! It's very relaxing!! Ooh, and I also eat some soup!! I love soup!!"

Lemmy: "Consume as much NyQuil as realistically possible. Ya can't be sick if you're unconscious!!!"

Larry: "I go to school anyways and make it my mission to get as many people sick as possible."

Morton: "Once I get all my morning chores done, I usually let myself take a quick ten or so minute nap, then go back to working. The cooking and cleaning isn't gonna do itself!!"

Wendy: "I treat myself!!! Get a big bowl of ice-cream, wear fuzzy pajamas and slippers, brag to all my friends that I'm skipping school—My bedroom becomes PARADISE!!!"

Iggy: "I usually lay down in bed and try to just relax. Nibbles cuddles with me and makes me feel much better!!"

Ludwig: "I try not to do much... Just sleep so I can recover. Maybe read a book or two. Whenever I stay home sick, though, Roy always insists on staying home with me and becoming my personal maid. Which is extremely unnecessary. But, I still appreciate it...... I have to be careful because being sick makes my incontinence ten times worse."

Roy: "Assuming that I'm not sick because I'm taking care of my already-sick siblings and am busy watching over them... I probably end up laying on the couch and binging TV shows. Nothing special. There's not much I can do. Nor WANT to do."

Peasley: "Whenever I've been sick in the past, my mother has personally spent every single minute until I recover, bringing me the most nutritious foods, making sure that I'm comfortable at all times, babying me, entertaining me... I like being sick! I usually end up forgetting that I feel like trash 'cuz I get treated so perfectly!"

Nabbit: "I get spoiled, too! Well, maybe not AS much... Whenever I come down with something, my pa goes out, robs every pharmacy and house in the area, steals all the meds, soups, water bottles, blankets, pillows, the whole shebang! All the crime for the rest of the day is dropped so he can focus on making sure that I am the happiest disease-ridden lady in the whole kingdom!!"

Motley: "... My mommy has to be at work and can't usually take days off, so when I'm sick, I just lay in bed by myself until I feel better."

Topper: "We have a rule in our house. Since the four of us all have different medical issues and constantly have reasons to want to get out of school, it's been decided that we can only have a total of five days off per month. That way, we don't take advantage of our issues to skip class. So it's important that you have a good reason to stay home, keep in mind that you might really need a day off later, and once you have your day off, don't waste it. That being said, I usually spend my sick days sleeping or reading. I can't be too active, because having a cold combined with asthma will make me almost constantly out of breath."

Hariet: "Sick days? Oh no, I don't do those." :3 "I have a perfect attendance record to maintain. Plus, there is NOTHING I can't bear through for seven hours. School is important!!"

Topper: *Rolls his eyes*

Hariet: "If I'm having a sick day on the weekend or whatever, though... I put all my energy into recovering. Sleep good, drink lots of fluids, eat healthy, etc."

Rango: "I usually just eat. They say to eat soup when you get sick! I eat soup, brownies, chicken nuggets, pizza, pop-tarts, cereal, noodles, cheese sticks—Really, I'll eat anything that we have!! I find that eating junk food is surprising therapeutic and good for the soul! Also, I have an EXCELLENT metabolism!!" :D

Spewart: "Most of the time, if I'm staying home, it isn't because I have a cold or something. It's 'cuz I'm having a CVS episode. In which case, I spend the whole day laying in bed, on the couch, or possibly even just on the floor, in agony. All with a bucket keeping me company. For when I throw up! Which I may do a hundred times! Or not at all, resulting in a tummy-ache that lasts the WHOLE day and won't go away. Yay me!"

[milarqui]

Scarlet Lady: Anansi

Directory | Sapotis

Today was one of those rare days where Adrien could get out of home, and since it was Spring Break, they had decided to enjoy it by doing something fun.

And, as they made time before they went out for the fireworks, they were having fun playing videogames – like the dancing game Alya and Nino were starting right now.

“It's amazing you were able to come,” Marinette said as the music began to sound out. “Did your dad make a fuss?”

“Oh, he definitely objected at first,” Adrien said, smiling.

----

“Adrien, I forbid you from going out tonight. It's too dangerous,” Gabriel Agreste said, and Adrien smirked.

“Ah, Père. I thought you might say that,” he replied, turning to the bottles he had carefully prepared for this precise occasion. “Sidebar, have you seen my collection of hair dye?”

Gabriel looked, and Adrien's smirk grew as the man broke out into a sweat.

“I forget, what's your favorite color, père? I'm partial to pink.”

“Mon Dieu,” Gabriel muttered.

----

As Marinette giggled from Adrien's story, the song Nino and Alya had been dancing to was ending, and Nino decided to end on a high note.

“Big finish!” he said, and he made a ballet pose, causing the others to laugh.

“What is that?!” Adrien said before he also broke down laughing.

“Aw, shoot, did I miss the ballet?”

“Nora!” Alya said, turning to her elder sister, who was still wearing her fighting gear, all marked with the symbol of a spider in a circle. “Is your match over already?”

“First round: total knock out,” Nora said, hopping around. “Aaaas usual.”

“I'm sure that was fun to watch,” Alya replied, feeling bad for the people that had paid to see the fight.

“And I told you not to call me Nora in front of other people, p'tite sœur!” Nora admonished her.

“That's so laaaame.”

Nora turned to the others in the room.

“Name's Anansi, like the spider,” she said, pointing at the symbol on her helmet.

“Oh! Like you're really tricky in the ring? Like the legends?” Nino asked, only for Nora to put a confused face.

“Nah, man, I'm like a tank in the ring.”

“How is that like Anansi or a spider...” Adrien wondered.

“Why're you all still here?” Nora said, ignoring Adrien's comment while taking off her helmet. “Isn't it a school night?”

“It's Spring Break, actually,” Marinette pointed out.

“We're gonna see the fireworks from the Place de la Concorde ferris wheel,” Alya revealed.

“What?!” Nora suddenly shouted. “No way, it's too dangerous with everyone becoming Akumas!”

“Oh, c'mon! I'm not a baby, I've been living with Akumas for seven months now!” Alya complained, glaring at her sister. “Besides, I have Mom and Dad's permission, I don't have to listen to you!”

“Forget it, you're staying home, safe and sound, period!” Nora replied, before waving at the others. “Baguette, Cappy, and Billboard Boy can go though.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” Nino sarcastically fired back.

“C'mon, what does Billboard Boy know about self defense?” Nora asked.

“Hey! I fence!” Adrien replied, defensively.

“And Baguette can't lift more than a bag of flour!”

“Hey! They're heavy!” Hell, they could easily weigh more than twenty kilos!

“And Cappy–”

“Okay, first of all, we're not gonna stop living our lives just because Hawkmoth is a butthole,” Nino interrupted her. “Second, I'd do anything to protect Alya! And third --”

He turned to present Alya, who made a pose, as if for a magazine.

“Alya's a Queen who can take care of herself!”

Giving Nino a look, as if measuring him, and sat on the kitchen table.

“Fine! Alya can go... if you beat me at arm wrestling.”

“Huh?” Alya said, but then the four of them looked at each other, and it was obvious they had had the same brainwave.

“Well, okay,” Nino said, as they all walked up to the table.

“Fine,” Alya added.

Nora looked at them, confused (again).

“Uhh, what are you doing?” she asked.

“Come at us, scrub,” the four of them said at the same time, ready to accept the challenge, as they put together their right hands and clasped Nora's.

And the fight started.

“4-on-1 is obviously cheating!” Nora exclaimed, straining with all her strength against the four teens'.

“Hey, you challenged us!” Alya pointed out as they forced Nora's hand back.

“It's completely unfair!”

“You think Akumas care about fair?!” Adrien shouted.

“We have to do what we can to keep ourselves safe, even if it's not fair!” Marinette followed.

“As long as we have each other, we can do anything!” Nino exclaimed.

“We're not ashamed of asking for help!” Alya finished, and the four of them pushed even harder.

“THAT'S LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP, BITCH!” they shouted, and with one last mighty push, they slammed Nora's hand against the table.

----

“Hmm... if I send off this Akuma, whose grudge includes my own son, I'll be directly contributing to putting Adrien in direct danger... but that Ring and Earrings would look so sick on me, so, off you go, little Akuma!”

Yeah, a great set of priorities.

----

BOOM!

Tikki looked up as a red star exploded in the sky, followed by a green one.

“Aren't the fireworks beautiful, Chloé?” she asked her bearer.

“As if!” the girl yelled. “I could've been in New York with Mommy right now, but my whole Spring Break is ruined because I have to stay here and be Scarlet Lady! Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

She paused for a moment. The rules said she could not take the Earrings from their wielder... but there was nothing about getting the wielder to give them up themselves...

“There's still time,” she innocently suggested. “You could leave the Earrings with Marigold or Chat Noir for the week!”

“ha! As if they could match my brilliance, even temporarily!” Chloé replied.

Tikki mentally snapped her fingers.

Worth a shot.

----

The sky was illuminated by the beautiful fireworks, and the four friends, who were almost at the top of the loop, were looking up, fascinated.

“Look at that!” Marinette pointed out, as three fireworks exploded at the same time to form what resembled the French flag.

“Wow!” Adrien replied. This was the first time he had been able to watch one of these from somewhere that wasn't home, and he was enjoying it so much!

Alya and Nino, hand in hand, weren't even voicing their enthusiasm, but anyone that looked at them would have seen it quite clearly on their faces.

But then the wheel jerked, and sent Adrien to the floor.

“Ah, whoa!” Adrien shouted as he fell.

“What?” Alya asked, surprised.

“Aw, man, are we stuck?!” Nino asked as well, hugging his girlfriend.

“L-Look, over there!” Marinette said, pointing at the middle of the wheel: something was pinning it in position by using what looked like long lines of silk. One wouldn't have been enough, but there were so many that their combined strength was preventing the wheel from turning.

“A... super villain?” Nino asked, as Adrien looked out.

“A spider villain,” he answered.

“Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me!” Alya yelled, incensed. “AFTER ALL THAT GRIEF, YOU BECAME AN AKUMA, YOU STUPID–”

“Alya, don't attract her over here!” Marinette said, pulling her down to avoid being seen.

Too late, though, because the spider Akuma quickly climbed up to where they were, unhooked their car and brought it down to the ground, forcing them to hold onto whatever they could find to avoid getting hurt.

“Gotcha, my little flyweights! Yoink!” the Akuma said.

“Jesus Christ, Nora!” Alya yelled as the Akuma forced the door open.

“Nora's not here to protect you anymore!” the Akuma shouted, grabbing Nino with one of her six arms.

“Ah!”

“I'm Anansi, the Super-Spider!” the Akuma continued, pulling Nino out of the car.

“Guys! Guys!” Nino begged.

“C'mon, Alya, let's see you 'take care of yourself' without your friends to help you cheat!”

“What do you–”

And then Anansi fired her webs at Adrien and Marinette, trapping them into the car.

“Ahh!”

“Aw, gross!”

With both teens blocked, Anansi began to move away, but then jumped and struck the ferris wheel right in the middle.

“NO!”

“KYA!”

“This'll slow down M. Whiskers and the bugs!” the Akuma yelled as the ferris wheel fell from its place and began to slowly roll away.

“Aw, man, aw, man!” Alya yelled. “She's getting away with Nino, but I can't just leave you guys!”

“Go ahead, Alya!” Adrien replied, starting to pull on the spider web holding his left arm.

“We'll try and catch up!” Marinette added, also pulling off the web trapping her.

“Yeah, don't lose sight of Nino!”

“Are you sure?” Alya asked. “I can wait until–”

“IT'S FINE, PLEASE GO!” both of them yelled at her, intent on getting her away while they transformed.

“Uh, if you say so...” Alya replied, confused, before she did as bid and began to run after her Akumatized sister and her boyfriend.

Marinette and Adrien quickly began to pull on the silk threads, and while it was still sticky, they were able to get rid of it fast enough that it only took a couple of minutes before they were free.

“Ah, you know, I did promise Chat Noir I'd stay out of Akuma fights, so, I–I'll try to flag down a hero instead, yeah?” Marinette suggested, while rolling up the silk: if this thing survived the Miraculous Cure, perhaps she could try to use it as a material?

“G–Good idea! I'll uh, try to catch up with Alya and Nino! See ya!” Adrien replied, and both teens bolted to hide behind the closest alley.

----

“KYAAA!”

“RUN!”

“What's that about? So noisy,” Chloé complained.

“Chloé, it might be an Akuma!” Tikki suggested.

“No way, you don't know that,” the girl replied, but then Tikki looked at the street and her face turned to shock.

“C-Chloé! Look out!”

Chloé looked – and became shocked as well as she saw a loose ferris wheel rolling towards her!

“The ferris wheel!” she pointed out. Tikki could – just barely – see Sabrina, Lila, and someone that was probably Lila's mother holding onto each other, scared.

“It's going to crash into your dad's hotel!”

“And more importantly, my room! Spots On!”

“Ugh–” Tikki didn't even have the time to voice her insatisfaction as she became absorbed into the Earrings.

----

“Dammit, Nora, get your own boyfriend!” Alya shouted, seeing Nino hanging from a web that Anansi had crafted all over the Arc de Triomphe.

“Hey, babe,” she heard Nino say.

“Anansi, p'tite sœur! Now take a hike!”

“Wha–”

Alya didn't have the time to react before Anansi smacked her, sending her flying.

“Oh you bi–”

“Alya!”

A string suddenly coiled itself around her waist and pulled her to safety in Marigold's arms.

“Are you okay?!” the heroine asked with great worry.

“Yeah, thanks...”

“Hmph!” Scarlet Lady grumbled. “Leave this to the Hero of Paris, reporter gir–”

Then she actually saw the day's Akuma for the first time.

“Hey, little beetle!” the Akuma said with a grin.

“EEP! SPIDER LADY! LUCKY CHARM, LUCKY CHARM, LUCKY CHARM!”

As Chat Noir finally arrived, Marigold immediately started to go into planning mode.

“Okay, I'll run a distraction, Chat Noir will go for the hostage, and Scarlet Lady–”

“Welp, here you go Marimo– uh, Marigold,” Scarlet quickly interrupted, handing her the Lucky Charm while her Earrings began to beep, “good luck with that, I gotta, you know, recharge and stuff.”

“And then you'll come back, right?”

“Oh, I can't hear you, gotta turn back, byeeeee!” Scarlet said as she turned to run.

“And then you'll come back, right!?” Marigold yelled at the retreating back of the polka-dotted girl.

----

Unfortunately, the plan soon run into a snag.

“Uh, Honey Bee? I'm in a bit of a sticky situation,” Chat Noir asked, stuck to Anansi's web, as he looked down at the laughing Akuma. “That's some nightmare fuel right there.”

“Chat Noir!” Marigold yelled, still holding the Lucky Charm. “I have to make a trip, but I can't leave Chat defenseless! Lord knows I can't count on Scarlet!”

Alya looked down at the baton Chat Noir had dropped after getting trapped... and decided it was time to act.

“I'll do it.”

“Huh?!”

“I'll distract Anansi until you get back.”

“Are you sure?” Marigold asked. This was her elder sister, after all...

“No problem! I can even get back at my sister!” It didn't look like she minded, though. “For the greater good, of course.”

“Of course,” Marigold replied, a bit shocked.

----

Fortunately, using her top and the roofs allowed her to reach her destination, and after transforming back into her civilian self, she ran for her destination.

“Master Fu!” she said as she entered the parlor. “Chat Noir's about to lose his Ring, Scarlet Lady bailed, and I had to leave my best friend to hold off the Akuma!”

“Yikes!” the elder said, springing to his feet. “We have to take action!”

He picked up the Miraculous Box from its hideaway.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pick an ally who can–”

“I'mma stop you right there cuz I need your Miraculous, Master!”

Fu had a brief look of shock, but nodded as he understood her intentions.

“Do you have someone in mind, Marinette?”

“I know the perfect person,” she replied, before turning to the Kwami of Protection with a n awkward gaze. “I hope you like interviews, Wayzz.”

“What's an interview?”

----

“Not so easy on your own, is it, Alya?” Anansi mocked her sister, who was huffing from the effort of keeping her at bay.

“It's easier when my opponent's so slow!” Alya yelled as she triggered the baton, hitting Anansi with the end of it.

“Ow! Why, you little–”

Anansi attempted to punch Alya with her three left fists, but before she could do that a thread coiled around the girl's waist once more, pulling her away.

“Alya!”

Marigold quickly pulled her away to somewhere where Anansi would be unable to see them.

“Did you see, did you see?! I got her good!” Alya cheered up.

“Uh, yes, I'm very proud,” Marigold replied.

While they were distracted, though, Anansi went back to her original target, the Cat Hero.

“It's just you and me, kitty-cat,” the Akuma said, grabbing his left arm with one hand, ready to steal the ring from him.

“You, me, and Cataclysm!” the hero replied, sticking his tongue at Anansi.

“And now we're pressed for time,” Marigold said, watching the events from below. “Do you still want to help your boyfriend?”

“Of course!” Alya exclaimed. “I'd do anything for Nino!”

Marigold pulled the ornate wooden box she had brought from Master Fu's.

“Alya Césaire, this is the Turtle Miraculous, which grants the power of Protection. You will use it for the greater good–”

Alya grabbed Marigold by the shoulders and began to shake her back and forth.

“Are you serious, this is a total dream come true AHHHHHH!”

“L-Let me finish!” Marigold complained.

----

After letting her finish, Alya picked the box and opened it, revealing a green bracelet and, with a flash of green, a small, floating turtle-like creature.

“Whoa, what's this thing?!” Alya asked.

“The word you're looking for is 'Kwami'. My name is Wayzz,” the Kwami of Protection replied.

“A Kwami? You're what gives superheroes their powers, aren't you?” she asked, and Wayzz nodded.

“My, Marigold wasn't kidding about how bright you are!”

“No way, you talk about me?!” Alya exclaimed again, and Wayzz held his laugh at seeing Marigold's embarrassed face.

“H-Hurry up and transform!” she shouted.

“Eeeee! Okay, okay! Wayzz, SHELL ON!”

----

When the flash of light ended, the new heroine looked down at her costume, admiring everything.

“This is soooo cool!” she said, before turning back to Marigold. “Hey, where do you get Miraculouses?! How many are–”

“Focus!” Marigold interrupted the deluge of questions. “We have to save Nino before Chat Noir turns back! But first we need to locate our fearless leader.”

While the Turtle Heroine took the time to feel her new features – including her very fluffy hair – Marigold called Scarlet Lady on her top-phone.

Then the melody of Scarlet Lady's yo-yo began to ring right behind her.

“Of course,” she grumbled, irritated.

“Have you finished off the spider lady yet?” Scarlet Lady asked.

“Obviously not,” Marigold fired back.

“Well, hurry up!” Scarlet Lady ordered. “And who's she?!”

Our hero, the new heroine sarcastically thought.

Scarlet Lady ignored her and turned to Marigold.

“Uh, nice to meet you?” she asked, feeling awkward.

“Of course it is,” Scarlet Lady mumbled. “Bumbling bee! Where are you getting these Miraculouses, huh?!”

“As if I'd tell you,” Marigold said, dismissively.

“Scarlet Lady doesn't know where the Miraculouses come from but you do?” the Turtle Heroine asked, confused.

“Chat Noir too. Off the record.”

She wasn't sure of the reason, but she needed to ask.

“Why?”

Marigold gave her an 'Are you kidding me?' look.

“She can't be trusted with anything,” she replied, pointing at Scarlet Lady, “let alone secrets of that magnitude.”

“HEY!” Scarlet Lady yelled.

Nobody cared.

I'm starting to see that, she thought.

“How dare you–”

“Just use Lucky Charm already!” Marigold shouted, irritated.

----

This time, the object was a pair of boxing gloves, which Scarlet Lady immediately handed to Marigold.

“Here, go deal with the Akuma, worker bee,” she said, while Marigold just looked like she was done.

“Whu–?! You're not coming?!” the Turtle Heroine asked, shocked.

“Please, that's grunt work,” Scarlet Lady replied with a smug look. “Better get used to it, turtle head. That's your spot in the pecking order while I call the shots.”

“Please, you don't 'call' anything,” Marigold said, rolling her eyes.

Scarlet Lady ignored her.

“So, what dumb little name have you cooked up for yourself?”

She thought it over, and came up with the perfect combination.

“Koki Marina.”

“Hm, there's gotta be some way to make an insult out of it,” Scarlet Lady said, closing her eyes. “Give me time.”

And, with those words, the last remains of her respect for the 'heroine' completely vanished.

I'm going to write such an article about you!

----

Leaving the lazy girl behind them, Marigold and Koki Marina charged towards the Arc de Triomphe, ready to stop the Akuma before Chat Noir transformed back into his civilian identity.

“Hey Anansi!” Marigold yelled.

“Come at me, scrub!” Koki Marina challenged.

“Ooo, a new challenger?” the Akuma asked.

Immediately, Koki Marina began to attack the Akuma with a speed that was unlike what she was meant to represent, while Marigold began to extend her cord around the monument.

“Ugh!”

“Nyah, nyah!”

“This isn't kick boxing!” the Akuma complained.

“Anansi!” Marigold shouted, putting on the gloves. “One round! You win, you get our Miraculouses! I win, you release your prisoners!”

“Huh?” the Akuma asked, shocked.

“Pay attention, I challenge you!”

“Eeeeeeeeee...”

“Or, uh, Koki Marina challenges you,” she lamely added, as her cheer increased.

“EEEE!”

Marigold handed the gloves to Koki Marina, who got ready for the fight.

And began by dodging a punch that struck one of the Arc's pillars.

“Made ya look!” she taunted the Akuma.

“Nyah!”

“Over here!” she said over the next punch, which also hit another pillar.

“SHUT UP!”

“Too slow!” Koki Marina yelled as another attack hit another pillar.

“Hold STILL!”

And so they went for a minute, before Koki Marina noticed the small rocks starting to fall.

“Quit hiding in your shell, and fight back!” Anansi demanded, ignorant of what was about to come.

“Okay~” Koki Marina replied, leaning on the cord and pulling.

The Arc de Triomphe began to crumble down, and Anansi realized too late that she had fallen into a trap.

“Uhh–”

Marigold quickly pulled the hostages down and near Koki Marina, who used her ultimate technique.

“Shellter!”

A sphere of green hexagons surrounded the group, which was left safe as the monument fell to pieces around and above them, while the Akuma was not so lucky and got trapped.

The moment the Shellter was brought down, Chat Noir – just running out of time with his Cataclysm – and Marigold split off, while Koki Marina checked on Nino.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Y-Yeah,” he answered.

“Glad to hear it, handsome,” she said, grinning, in a flirty tone.

“Oh! Uh –” Nino floundered, while behind them Marigold had grabbed Chat Noir and got ready to throw him as if she were throwing a javelin.

“Ultimate Chat Noir Technique! Aim for the helmet!” the Cat Hero said, and Marigold shot him at the Akuma, finally destroying the object and freeing the corrupting butterfly.

“I, like, have a girlfriend?” Nino continued, flushing, and scratching the back of his head. “I mean, I'm flattered! But she's kind of the most amazing person ever, so–”

Koki Marina smiled, holding onto the instinct to laugh or thank Nino for his kind words towards her civilian self, and nodded.

“M-hm.”

Then Nino pulled out his cellphone.

“Do you mind being recorded for the Ladyblog?”

“Ooo, can I?!” Koki Marina asked Marigold, who just huffed in amusement.

“Keep it brief.”

While Nino filmed the new heroine, another person approached the group.

“Hellooo, the real hero is over here!” Scarlet Lady yelled, pointing at herself.

“I don't remember you trying to save me,” Nino deadpanned, wisely choosing to ignore her.

Paris' real heroes watched in happiness and a bit of amusement.

“Good pick, Goldie,” Chat Noir encouraged.

“I only surround myself with the best.” Then she felt a bit awkward. “Now I just gotta stop her from spilling all the Turtle's secrets.”

“See, it detaches!” Koki Marina said, posing for Nino's video. “I can put it on my arm and back!”

----

Finally pulling Koki Marina away – which was easy, as her bracelet was beeping – Marigold took her to an alley and had the girl return to her civilian form, ready to recover the Miraculous.

“Aww, you're taking my baby?” Alya pouted, holding Wayzz protectively in her hands.

“Don't make me regret you,” Marigold countered, and Alya let go with a sigh.

“Ah, just kidding. Part of me wants to make a fuss but I don't want to be as untrustworthy as Scarlet Lady.” She shook her head. “My poor blog needs a total rehaul.”

“Alya, your blog is a huge source of information,” Wayzz wisely pointed out. “I'm sure you could use that information for something good!”

Alya gasped.

“Like finding Hawkmoth!” she said, grabbing Wayzz again and rubbing her cheek against his. “Wayzz, you genius! Are you sure I can't keep you?!”

“No! Stop bonding RIGHT NOW!”

----

With everything back to normal, Marinette and Adrien managed to return from their hero selves and tracked down their friends, who were now being chaperoned by Nora.

“Hey! Is everyone okay?” Marinette asked.

“Woe is me!” Nino dramatically replied. “After all the power of friendship talk, only Alya came to save me!”

“Aw, geez,” Adrien complained.

“Relax, I'm just messing with you,” Nino said with a wink as he pulled his cellphone. “Alya, check this out, there was a new hero and I got footage for you–”

“Oh Nino that's soooo SWEET!” Alya shouted, jumping into her boyfriend's embrace and starting to kiss him.

“MMPH!” Nino said, not knowing whether to pull her closer or push her away, because... “A-Alya, Nora's watching, like, really watching!”

Given the 'overprotective sibling' glare he was getting targeted with, he had a reason to be wary.

As soon as Alya let her boyfriend go, Nora turned bashful for a moment.

“Hey, uh, sorry for losing my cool over the match,” she apologized. “I mean, even superheroes don't work alone! Why should you have to?”

Marinette and Adrien shared a look, and the teens let the fighter bring them into a hug.

“Hey, no big deal, right Anansi?” Adrien said.

“Hey, let's invite Nora to ice skate with us!” Nino suggested, and Alya nodded.

“Yeah I can't remember the last time we hung out!”

Nora pulled them closer.

“I'm gonna skate circles around you,” she said.

The teens wondered if they were going to have to deal with the same thing again.

“It's not a competition,” Nino pointed out.

----

After some time skating, everyone went back to their homes, and Alya checked her phone for the video Nino had made of her heroine self.

“Thanks so much for the footage, mon cœur!” she told Nino. “I've got a few things to finish up, try not to stay up too late! Night.”

And she hung up her phone.

Her two projects were on her table.

The first, a list of all the Akuma fights that had taken place since Stoneheart, and what Scarlet Lady had been actually seen doing during them.

The green, for the times she had actually helped, were a minority.

Most of them were purple, after what she presumed was Hawkmoth's color.

Every time she was heard insulting someone (usually Chat Noir or Marigold), it was blue.

Yellow was reserved for whenever someone new did more work than Scarlet Lady.

If she was late (which was quite common), the orange sticker let her find it.

And, finally, in deep red, the times where Scarlet Lady hadn't even bothered to show up.

The second project was a map.

She pulled a string and pinpointed the place and time where the latest Akuma had happened.

“Alright,” she said, tying the string to the tack on her home. “Where are you, motherfucker...”

She had not done much as of yet... but from now on, the hunt for Hawkmoth was ON.

----

Troublemaker

@zoe-oneesama Heyy, hope you like this!

Also, it's finally holiday time for me!

#scarlet lady the novel #fanfiction #milarqui #long post #marinette dupain cheng #marigold #adrien agreste #chat noir #anansi #alya cesaire #koki marina

[fizzyxcustard]

Betrayal (10)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Crossover of Spooks and Pilgrimage (Modern AU)

Pairings: Lucas North x OC/Raymond de Merville x OC

Warnings: Love triangle. Angst. Language. Sexual references/language. Cheating. Stalking.

Summary: Amy Holland is Lucas North’s girlfriend of six months. Amy is aware of his job as an MI-5 agent and supports him. However, Lucas’ cousin, Raymond de Merville, has always loved Amy and uses their one night stand together as leverage for something more.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

Amy had now been back in Coventry for around ten days, residing in her old bedroom. The walls had been re-painted; now beige, rather than the deep lilac she had always been used to. Her furniture had either been set for being sold online, or was now gracing the house somewhere. Her work transfer had been slightly delayed, giving her a few weeks to get accustomed to life back home before going into a new employment environment.

On the second Friday of being back home, Amy got herself prepared for a meal she had arranged with Lucas. He had invited her to spend time with him in town at a new Italian restaurant that had opened. Raymond had practically turned into a ghost. No communication. Nothing.

After stepping out of the shower, Amy styled her short hair, which was now growing fairly long in comparison to the medium-length pixie cut she had sported only six weeks ago. It annoyed her how quickly hair grew and how much maintenance short hair needed. She picked up her bottle of Olympia perfume by Paco Rabbane, the one fragrance that was Lucas' favourite on her. She remembered how just after their first official date and kiss, he had mentioned how it was the first thing he noticed upon their very first meeting at their local cafe - the scent of Olympia wafting from over his shoulder.

Amy stared at the bottle, wondering whether to put it on or not. Any kind of seduction or flirting was not on the list of intentions for the evening. She missed Lucas, more so every day. She missed waking up next to him whenever they stayed over at one of their flats. She missed the comfort, the warmth, the intimacy. She missed the trust she had in him. For those six months, Lucas had been her life.

Lucas arrived promptly at seven outside Amy's house, and walked up to the front door, only to see it open and her beautiful face appear before him. She looked up at him and blushed, subconsciously brushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear. It took him back to their first date together; she had been nervous, flushed in her face, and stuttered a little. He looked upon the frilly white blouse she was wearing, which accented her generous breasts perfectly.

Amy couldn't help but feel her gut curl at the sight of Lucas. He was wearing a navy blue shirt and black over jacket; comfort with a slight hint of sophistication. She smelt his cologne, fresh with a touch of sandalwood. Was that the one she had brought him for Christmas?

"How have you been? Did you travel up today?" Amy asked, as both of them walked down the front garden path towards Lucas' car, a black BMW.

"Yeah, I got up here early afternoon and I've booked into a hotel overnight," he replied. "The Hilton just a few miles away."

Their conversation continued on as they got in the car and Lucas pulled away from the kerb and took off into town. They mused over each other's day, commented on the terrible weather that afternoon, and then the conversation dropped a little.

Amy looked at Lucas' hand which was propped against the gearstick. She wanted that hand to touch her, caress her. It made her think on their lovemaking. Tender, loving. Lucas always took his time, nothing rushed. That hand had been acquainted with her many times.

"I....I've missed you," Amy said.

Lucas was just pulling into the restaurant car park as she spoke those words. He switched off the ignition and rested back in his seat, then looked over at her sat beside him. Her perfume. It made him smile and his heart fluttered in his chest. "I love you." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. "Being away from you has..."

"Shhh," Amy cooed, taking his hand. "It's okay. I know it's been hard. I just can't forgive myself for what's happened."

"Things take time. Sometimes forgiving yourself is harder than forgiving others."

"That's definitely true."

***

Raymond waited outside the restaurant, after following Lucas' car. The tracker he had got hold of had worked like magic. Now the terrible wait came.

Over two hours before he finally saw Lucas and Amy re-appear. She was now holding on to Lucas' arm, smiling, and looking a lot more comfortable in comparison to when she went in.

Raymond waited a few minutes, allowing Lucas to leave. Then he looked down at his phone, tracing the red circle along the winding roads.

By the time Raymond found the destination of Lucas, he growled. It was paid parking only. The Hilton customer car park. However, he was able to catch sight of Lucas and Amy walking in through the main front entrance of the hotel, before he was forced to take his car down a back street to park.

On his phone, Raymond looked through the data which was held on Lucas' car. He had stopped briefly for a few minutes, at seven exactly, in a residential area. This must have been where he had picked Amy up from.

***

Amy woke the next morning, lying next to Lucas. He was still asleep, his dark eyelashes fluttering. He seemed at peace, unlike many nights when she had woke up with him after a nightmare. She shifted a little in the bed, and looked over at the bedside clock. 6:30.

"Morning, you," Lucas whispered, waking from his slumber. He smiled upon seeing her. For a brief second, he felt as if he were in a dream, not quite yet back in reality.

"Morning, love," Amy replied. She moved in and placed a kiss against his lips, listening to him groan.

The night previous had been murder for him. He knew that Amy was holding back. There had been the odd touch of hands, holding of arms, but no more contact than that. Even though they were lying next to each other, having slept in the same bed, no physical intimacy had occurred.

The kiss grew deeper, more needing, more wanting. Amy slid over Lucas, straddling him. She laced a hand in his, and felt him grip it. Her hips began to grind against his, and immediately she could feel his erection pressing on her. That sensation of his arousal pulled her out of the trance which had overcome her. "I'm sorry," she whimpered, and pulled herself off him and away.

***

Raymond waited for Amy that afternoon. He'd followed her from her home address, having parked outside, in the general vicinity that his phone app had given him from the data against Lucas' car.

He knew she'd stayed the night with Lucas. Then she'd been dropped off by Lucas at around midday.

The shopping centre where Amy had disappeared to was fairly busy, but nothing like London. Raymond kept his distance, remaining in shops adjacent to her and then let himself slip behind people, using the crowds as cover.

Amy sat down in a Costa coffee shop and picked up a Frappuccino. The feeling of being watched had been sitting in her gut all day, and she couldn't shake it. When finally her suspicions were confirmed. She caught sight of Raymond walking past the very front of the building, pretending to be focusing on whatever was in front of him. He was wearing dark aviator sunglasses. But she could tell that profile anywhere, paired with the short dark hair and grey peppering his temples.

Amy grabbed her phone and rang Raymond.

"Aim?" he answered.

"Get your arse in Costa, Ray. I know you're following me. You literally walked past the window a minute ago."

The call ended abruptly, and within thirty seconds, Raymond came into the shop. He approached her, removed his glasses and sat down opposite her.

"Why are you following me? Normal people just pick up the phone and call."

"As if you'd listen to me," Raymond hissed.

Amy leaned across the table, her eyes wide in frustration. "What the fuck do you want from me? If you're expecting me to give up on Lucas completely just for you, then you're pretty delusional."

"I'm aware you've already jumped back into bed with Lucas. Doesn't take you long."

"You are absolutely foul," Amy growled. "Just when I thought you were actually a decent person deep down, and I found myself feeling sorry for you and wanted to stay friends with you. You swing back and forth so quickly. You were definitely right when you said you're stupid."

Raymond stared at Amy. "I thought you needed time?"

"Ray. Please, see sense here. I was with Lucas for six months, so there's a lot of feeling and love there. You can't expect me to throw all of that away for you. You need to give up on me. Go and find someone else. There are plenty of people..."

"No," Raymond said simply.

"No, what? Love is never easy. We all know that. You can't just have what you want all the time. Haven't you learned that?"

"There was something between us."

Raymond eyes were still burning into Amy's gaze.

"There was something, and I regret every day that I acted on it. Lucas deserves so much better. But he can forgive in a way that I'm sure neither of us can. Could you have forgiven me if I'd have been with you and cheated on you with Lucas?"

Raymond remained silent, his jaw clenched.

"I didn't think so. And to make things clear, nothing happened between me and Lucas last night. Not that it's really any of your business. But I'm not like that; I've hurt him enough, and I want things to be right this time."

"I won't give up on you," Raymond spat.

Amy rolled her eyes. "For God sake, Ray. You can't rely on me. I'm willing to be there for you as a friend, but nothing more."

***

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#Richard Armitage #Lucas North #Lucas North x OC #Spooks #MI-5 #Raymond de Merville #Modern!Raymond de Merville #Raymond de Merville x OC #Original Female Character #Crossover #Pilgrimage

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In the Club

Pairing- Jin x Named Reader

Word count- 6.4k

Includes- drinking, dirty dancing, Jin and reader are slightly drunk, blow job, pussy eating, face riding, cock riding, multiple orgasms, fluff

Masterlists- check out for more fics

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Jin POV

I throw back another shot of vodka, then put down the shot glass

The music is so fucking loud, people all over the place, bodies dancing and sweating

It's hot here

My best friend planned a night at the club with her club friends and the guys for me

She noticed how upset and sad I've been since I broke up with my cheating girlfriend

I broke up with her six months ago, but I'm still upset over it

Still hurt that she cheated

I loved her, was with her for five years, was planning on proposing to her

But I caught her fucking a guy in our bed

A guy who she said was her boyfriend too

Needless to say I threw her out, threw the bed out and told her to never come back

I gave her one day to pack her shit while I was at work

Jungkook, Hobi, Namjoon and Joanne were at the apartment with her to make sure she just took her shit, not mine

The apartment is mine and she moved in with me

She wasn't going to take anything that's mine

Joanne was there for me when it happened

She talked to me for hours, any time I called her, comforted me, hung out with me

She's been trying to get me to go out to have fun but I just wasn't feeling it

I just kept working at the restaurant I own, then stayed home

Until tonight

She told me that all the guys and her club friends are going to "Madholic" club and I was too

She made it clear I didn't have a choice as she planned this for me

So I sucked it up, got dressed and came

I knew it was going to be hot, so I put on a white tank top, a light white jacket, ripped jeans and boots

I fixed my hair so it's swept back and off my forehead so I don't sweat profusely

Once I got to the table, Joanne complimented the outfit and the girls with her nodded, smiled or bit their lip at me

She introduced me to her group of clubbing friends and it's a huge group

Eight guys and four girls

Plus the seven of us

I know she goes out a lot so she knows all the club owners, the bouncers, the workers

Somehow she got us the whole back area of tables and booths, the dance floor right in front of us

There's plenty of alcohol, bottles on the table, shots being delivered constantly by waitresses

Most of the guys are dancing, only Yoongi and Namjoon sitting with me and drinking

Her whole group of friends are up, on the dance floor and drinking

Including her

She's dancing with her friend San, both of their bodies pressed against each other's as they move, one of her arms around his neck, her other hand holding a shot glass

Jealousy, that I have no idea where it came from, is burning in my veins

Just watching her on him....it bothers me

I've never seen her in a revealing outfit

She wears sweatpants, leggings and tshirts

Hoodies

Sneakers

Maybe jeans if she's feeling it

Not what she's wearing now

Lacy black tank crop top that shows off her boobs and her sexy stomach with a belly ring I didn't know she had

I didn't know about the collarbone piercings either

The short skirt that shows off her cute round ass

The fucking sky high fuck me heels that I had no clue she could walk in let alone dance in

I had to keep my mouth from dropping open when I saw her tonight

She's fucking hot

I'm not blind, I know she's beautiful

But sexy like that?

No idea

My eyes keep going to her, watching San grab her ass, making her laugh, down her shot then move closer to him

The way her body moves is mesmerizing

I had no clue she knew how to dance, especially like that

I'm learning so much I never knew about her

One of her friends, Hongjoong, goes over to them, whispering to them

She nods, moving away from San while the two of them disappear in the crowd

She walks to the table some of her friends are at, taking another shot

God she can drink

That's like her sixth one and she doesn't even look that drunk

I watch her take Seonghwa's hand, him smiling at her and getting up, following her to the dance floor

He immediately puts his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, her arms moving around his neck

They move to the music, grinding against each other and I'm fucking livid

I want her to dance with me like that

I don't know why but I want it

And I'm even more pissed off because Seonghwa is her on again, off again boyfriend

They dated for a year, broke up, stayed friends, then dated again

This has been going on for three years

I know she's had sex with all of the guys that came here

She dated San first, five years ago, for a few months before they broke up

Since then she's with one of them

Some are just sex buddies, some she dated, none of them serious besides Seonghwa

They were actually in love but they had their own issues which keeps making them break up

I know because she used to tell me all about her love and sex life

She says she knows she's a slut but she doesn't care

I yelled at her for calling herself that

Just because she likes sex and have multiple partners doesn't make her a slut

She knows I don't judge her, I never have

Watching her with Seonghwa, I wonder if they're back together

They broke up again around when I threw my cheating ex out

Six months have passed so they may actually be together again

She may still be in love with him

And these thoughts make me angry

I grab another shot and down it, trying to ignore the way I'm feeling

After awhile, one of her friends, Ara, goes over to her, whispering in her ear

She glances back at the table I'm at, then nods at her friend, talking back to her

I wonder what that's about

Ara walks to my table, Joanne nodding encouragingly at her

Ara come close to me, smiling and taking my hand

What the fuck?

"Dance?", she asks

Uh...no...I'm not that great a dancer

I can do it but I'm self conscious

I feel eyes on me and I look up to see Joanne watching

She meets my gaze, smiles and nods at me

I guess she wants me to dance with her friend?

I don't know but the girl is still in front of me and I don't want to make her feel bad

I nod at Ara, standing up, letting her drag me to the dance floor

Next to Joanne and Seonghwa

Great

I have to try to dance while seeing her with him

Ara presses against me, her arms around my neck

I move my hands to her hips as she grinds against me

And I'm not feeling it

I move to the music but I don't want to be dancing

I smile weakly at her when she looks at me, then avoid her eyes

After a few minutes, she turns around her ass against me and again nothing

Not turned on in the slightest

Only getting angrier watching Seonghwa and Joanne touch each other as they dance

He leans down whispering in her ear

What is he telling her?

Is he asking her to leave with him?

She will, he's her weakness

He kisses her cheek, then moves away from her heading towards the tables

"I'll be back", Ara tells me, just leaving abruptly

What the hell?

She asked me to dance and now she's leaving me here?

That's shitty of her

Joanne turns around, surprised to see me next to her

"Where's Ara?", she shouts over the music

I lean to her by her ear, "I don't know. She said she'll be back"

She shrugs and I do too

She's right here and I don't want her to leave and find someone else to dance with

Taking her hand, she looks up at me

"Dance?"

She nods, smiling

Her arms move around my neck and chills run down my spine

What the fuck was that?

She moves against me, my hand moving around her on their own

Her body starts moving against me and mine just follows

"Are you having fun?", she asks

I am now

Nodding, I tell her, "Yeah Jo. I am."

"Good Jinnie. You deserve to have fun"

I smile at her, "Thanks for planning this"

"Of course Jinnie. You needed to get out. Hang out, drink, have fun."

I nod

I did need this

I'm glad she forced me to come

Right now I'm having a great time

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

She grinds against me, her ass against my hard dick

We've been dancing for like over an hour, stopping to down more shots

I'm drunk but not blacked out

She's drunk too, laughing and smiling, our dancing getting more sexual

I'm surprised my body moves this way

I assume it's because I'm following what she was doing and the liquor is loosening me up

The way she's dancing on me, made me super fucking hard

I didn't respond to Ara but I definitely responded to her

Almost immediately

I've been hard for awhile and it hurts a little

The way she moves on me gives me a little relief

Turning back around, her arms slowly slide up my body

She lifts her eyes to mine when her arms move around my neck

I stare into her beautiful brown eyes, not realizing I moved closer to her until my lips are right above hers

What the fuck am I doing?

This is my best friend.

I don't know if I should do this

I want to but I don't know if it's a good idea

What if it ruins everything between us?

Pulling back a little, I'm contemplating on what to do when her hand moves in my hair, pulling me to her, her lips against mine

Stars blast in my vision as I completely fall into her kiss

I lick her lip, sliding my tongue in, moving it against hers

Chills run down my spine

This has never fucking happened to me before

The chills, the stars, it's all new for me

But I like it

So much

She kisses me harder, her body trying to get closer to mine

"Someone's hard", she smirks before kissing me again

I knew she noticed

"Want me to fix it?", she slurs

Fuck yes

"Yea"

I'm not thinking clearly but I do need some relief

She pulls away making me pout

"So cute", she coos, taking my hand and pulling me behind her

Going through the dance floor, she leads me down a vacant hallway

"Where-"

"Shh Jinnie. It's ok. I'm allowed to be here"

Alright then

She opens the door to a dark room, flipping the light on

It's a small office

She pulls me in, closing the door, her mouth against mine again

I moan into the kiss, my tongue immediately in her mouth

Her hands move to my belt, undoing it

She undoes my jeans, pulling them and my boxers down

My drunk mind registers that this may not be a good idea but when her hand wraps around my length and moves, every thought leaves my mind

She presses her lips against my neck, while her hand moves faster and faster

"Oh god", I moan, pleasure hitting me everywhere

I haven't been touched in months, haven't had sex in months and fuck I miss it

"Damn Jinnie, you're cock is huge", she says between kisses

I can't...shit...I can't think straight

She pulls away from my neck and I open my eyes I didn't know I closed

I watch her kneel down, my eyes widening, my heart pounding in my chest

Her tongue touches me, slowly running up the underside of my shaft

"Fuck", I groan, pleasure hitting me hard

I watch her tongue keep moving, up and down, sliding over my head when she gets there

I can't, it's so good

She takes me in her mouth, sucking gently at first

"Fuck, fuck. Joanne god"

Tilting my head back against the wall, I close my eyes

Her sucking gets faster, harder and I can't fucking believe that my best friend is blowing me

She knows what she's doing, her tongue running all over me as she sucks

Her mouth is fucking amazing

Suddenly I feel my cock moves somewhere really tight

Opening my eyes, my mouth drops

She has my whole cock in her mouth, down her throat

And she's not choking or gagging, no tears falling

She's fine

I'm shocked

She swallows, her throat getting so tight and feeling so good, making me moan loudly

She moves back, half way down, then moves back up, taking me all

And she does that again and again, going at it hard

The only thing I can do is watch, moving my hand in her hair and hold on

She starts sucking as she moves and I'm so close

So fucking close

But I don't know where she wants me to cum

"Jo, I'm...I'm cum..... gonna...fuck...I'm...", I stammer

She doesn't get off, she just keeps going harder

And I can't hold it

"Fuck. Oh fuck. Yes fuck, Joanne", I cry, coming down her throat, the pleasure so intense

She keeps me in her mouth, sucking and swallowing on me, prolonging the pleasure

When I finish, I slump against the wall, breathing hard

She stands up, looking at me, "Good?"

I nod, "So good"

"Good", she smiles, "C'mon, let's go back before the guys start looking for me. And you"

I quickly pull my boxers and pants up, fixing everything

She goes to open the door but I spin her to me, kissing her hard

I don't want her to leave

I don't want everything to be back to the way it was

It might just be my drunk mind right now, but I want her

More than what just happened

I want to make her feel good, be with her

"Come home with me", I ask

She nods, "Yeah Jinnie"

Oh god, she said yes

I'm really happy she said yes

"Let's go", I nod

I let her drag me back the way we came because I can't remember

As we walk, I pull out my phone calling a taxi

She beelines straight for the club door, not going back to our table

"You're stuff", I ask

"Ara or Seonghwa will get it. They'll drop it at my apartment tomorrow"

Ok then

We leave the club to wait outside for the taxi

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

I'm having a hard time putting my keys in the locks

It may have something to do with the fact that I'm carrying her and kissing her at the same time

I've been trying to get the keys in for five minutes

"Jo", I say, pulling away, "I have to open the door"

"Hurry up", she whines, her lips now against my neck

The involuntary need to close my eyes against her kisses is strong but I need to get the fucking door open

I finally get the stupid key in the lock and unlock the top lock

I'm lucky and get the bottom one open quickly too

Opening the door, I go inside immediately, slamming it closed, flipping the lock quickly

Heading straight to my bedroom, I put her on the bed, pulling her lacy top off

God her boobs are big and I just want to touch them

Crashing my lips to her, I get a handful of her boobs in each hand, squeezing them, loving how soft and bouncy they are

Pushing her down on the bed, I drag kisses to her jaw, then her neck, hearing her moan

I really like that sound and I really like that I'm the reason why she's making it

She pushes my jacket and I quickly take it off, my hands back on her boobs

"Christ Jinnie, you had a tank top on?"

"Yeah", I answer, slightly confused

"It looks so fucking sexy on you Jinnie. God your shoulders are amazing, your arms too. You should have walked around the club like that"

I didn't even think of that

"Next time you dress like this, I'll be on you in ten seconds"

Then I'm definitely going to wear something like this again

I move my kisses down her chest, on to the top of her boob

I keep going, wrapping my mouth around her hard nipple

She whines loudly, her hands gripping my bed sheets so hard

And fuck me, I get hard instantly

Her nipple is amazing to suck on

I've never liked sucking on a nipple as much as I like being on hers

"Jinnie", she moans

Oh my fucking god, hearing her say my name is suck a turn on

Switching to her other nipple, I suck hard, biting and tugging on it while I undo her skirt

Pulling her skirt down, I get off her boob to get them and her fuck me shoes off

Then I slowly peel down her barely there panties, wondering why she's even wearing any

She sits up, pulling my shirt up

I help her take it off, throwing it behind me

"Holy fuck", she gapes, her hands touching my abs right away, "I didn't know you had these Jin"

I work out to deal with stress but I don't really show off much, like Jungkook or Jimin

"I didn't know my best friend was so fucking hot", she says

"Me? Joanne, I almost passed out when I saw you tonight. I didn't know you had that fucking body. God you're the sexiest girl I've ever seen"

I see her blush and it's so adorable

"I wanna see you naked", she says, again undoing my belt and pants

This time when they and my boxers drop, I get my boots off and kick the pants and boxers off

"Christ", I hear her breathe, her eyes running up and down my body

She's insane to look at me like that when she looks the way she does

"Kiss me Jinnie", she asks

She doesn't need to ask twice

I kiss her, moving on top of her

She wraps her arms around my neck, while I do the same to her body

Kissing her hard, I roll over, getting her on top of me

"Someone wants to be ridden huh?"

I do, I really do

But I want to eat her cunt first

"Yeah baby"

She sits on my stomach, moving back to get on my cock

I grab her hips to stop her, lifting her up easily and putting her over my face

"I wanna eat you first", I tell her, then bury my tongue in her pussy

"Oh my fucking God", she cries, her hands grabbing the headboard

Oh my god is right

She tastes so fucking good

She's so fucking wet, her juice running in my mouth, down my neck

I fucking love it

Running my tongue in between her pretty lips, I savor the feel of her on my tongue

Her cunt is so soft, the best I ever had in my mouth

I flick her clit and she yells so loudly

I think she likes that

Latching on to her clit, I suck hard and fast, her screams getting louder

"Jinnie, fuck Jinnie"

Her legs shake around my head and I just keep on sucking, determined to make her cum

I feel one of her hands move into my hair, pulling while her hips move, fucking my face

"Fuck baby don't stop", I groan, feeling her pussy slide on my tongue

God it feels so good

I've never been this into eating someone out before

Sucking her clit back into my mouth, I tug and bite on her

"Jinnie. I...I'm...I", she moans

I suck on her harder, wanting her cum so much

"Jin! Fuck!", she cries, coming, shaking above me

I move my tongue to her hole, licking up her cum, feeling how creamy it is

I'm shocked at how fucking out of this world her cum tastes

Better than any food I've eaten

My new addiction

"Oh fuck princess", I moan, "So good. So sweet"

Sliding my tongue inside her cunt, her pussy squeezes me hard

"Jinnie"

"Fuck my tongue baby"

"I...what?", she asks

"Fuck my tongue", I repeat, "Bounce on my tongue, like your gonna bounce on my cock."

"God Jinnie"

"C'mon baby", I say, sliding my tongue inside her

She starts moving up and down my tongue, her cunt clenching me wherever she slides down

Her juice runs into my mouth and I swallow over and over, loving every fucking second of this

As she moves, I squeeze her perfect ass over and over

"Jin, fuck. So good", she whimpers, bouncing faster and I wriggle my tongue around when she takes me in again

She moans and I looked up at her, pleasure all over her face, her hand squeezing the headboard so hard her knuckles are white

"Jinnie!", she yells, "I'm coming!"

And just at that moment, my tongue is covered in her cream, the taste out of this fucking world and I swallow over and over wanting more and more

Her body trembles above me when she's finished while I lick her cunt, cleaning every drop of cum from her

"Jin please", she whines, "Put your cock inside me, my eyes widening, looking up at her

I'm actually shocked she's asking

Well begging

"Really?", I ask wanting to be sure

She moves away from my face, sitting on my stomach

"Yes. I want your huge dick inside me right now"

I really want that too

I'm so hard it hurts and I need to feel her around me

"Sit on my cock princess", I order, my hands on her hips, helping her move down my body more

I don't even need to touch my cock, I'm so stiff, standing straight up

The second I feel her hole take my head, I moan loudly, "More baby. More"

I help her push down on my length, her cunt so fucking tight, slit stretching wide and straining around me

"Oh god so big", she whines, "So thick"

Holy shit, she really thinks so?

My ex, Minji never said anything like this to me

Joanne and I are such a tight fit, with no extra room to spare and it feels amazing

"All the way down princess", I gasp, her cunt soaking my cock as she slides down

God she opens so well for me, taking all of me

"Yes fuck Jinnie. God, finally", she moans when I bottom out

"Finally?", I ask

Did she really just say finally?

She nods, her eyes closed as she begins to rock, getting used to me

"You don't know how long I've waited to sit on your cock"

And my mind explodes

Hold on, what?

What is she saying?

"How much I wanted to know what you'd feel like deep inside", she moans, "Feels so fucking good"

"You did?", I ask, shocked and only able to say short sentences

"Mmm hmmm", she nods, "Wanted to be on this cock for so long"

Jesus Christ

I really don't know what to think or say as I process this information

My best friend always wanted to fuck me

And I had no clue

All the while, I never saw her as anything more than my friend until tonight

Because I was a stupid stupid idiot

"Can I ride you Jinnie?", she pleads, her eyes begging me, "Please?"

I nod rapidly, "You better princess"

She immediately moves, sliding up my cock and my brain explodes seeing her creamy juice completely covering my shaft

Then my cock is gone, her pussy enveloping my length as she slams back down on me

Pleasure like I never felt before, smacks me right in the face

She moves hard and fast, practically jumping on my cock

"Oh fuck Jo. Yes baby, you feel so fucking good", I moan, feeling her pussy suck me back inside, clenching on me again and again

I watch her in me, her legs moving faster and faster as she bounces so well on my dick

"Oh god Jinnie", she cries, "You feel so fucking incredible"

Well she feels amazing too, better than I can ever feel

She shifts her hips, taking me in again, she screams loudly when my head goes in so deep

"Oh my fucking god! There fuck right there", she cries, leaning back, her hands on my thighs, bouncing furiously

"There baby? Your spot?", I ask

"Yes", she cries

I grab her hips, helping her fuck me, sliding her up and down my cock as hard as I can

"Jinnie! Jinnie!", she yells, "I'm gonna cum"

Oh god yes

I've been waiting to feel that

"Cum on me baby"

I bring her down hard, smashing her spot and she shouts so loudly, her body shaking on me as she orgasms

"Seokjin!", she cries

My whole being is hit with immense pleasure as I feel her cunt squeeze my cock in a vice grip, spasming around me so quickly and so hard

"Oh my god!", I yell, holding her on my whole length, feeling her ride it out on me, "Oh my fucking god! Oh god. Amazing. Fuck...oh god"

I can't think coherently, the fucking bliss from her orgasm turning my brain off

She leans over me after, panting, her hands on my shoulder, her hair wet with sweat, her body glistening in it

God she's so beautiful

And when she cums?

Stunning

I run my hands along her back, waiting for her to catch her breath

When she opens her eyes, she looks into mine right before she crashes her lips to mine

I eagerly kiss her right back, letting her tongue in my mouth, playing with mine

My god, I love kissing her, I can't get enough

As she kisses me, she moves again, more bounces along my length, pleasure filling me again

Pulling away, she leans her forehead against mine as she rides me so fucking well

"Fuck, Minji was a fucking idiot to give this cock up", she moans, her fingers digging into my shoulder

I can't believe she's talking to me like this

And it's turning me on

"Fucking stupid to hop on any other"

"Yyy..yeah?", I ask, the pleasure so much, I have to force myself not to cum

I want her to feel her again first

"Yeah. Your cock is perfect Jinnie. Nice and thick, huge. Amazing to throb and cum on. I would never be stupid enough to give this dick up"

I moan hearing her words

I didn't realize she was into me

Wanted me this much

Maybe if I fucking paid attention, I'd have noticed

"I would never give you up", she whispers, her hands moving to cup my cheeks, kissing me softly

Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her on top of me, her skin against mine

I lightly move my fingers up her back, feeling her skin tremble against them

I slip one hand in her hair, tangling in it while my other hand moves to her ass, holding her on me

Then I thrust up into her, going deeper than before, getting her spot too

She kisses me harder, our tongues playing with each others as I fuck up into her

"Fuck baby, so wet", I moan between kisses, feeling her completely drench me, "So tight. So goddamn perfect"

Everything feels amazing

Her sweaty skin against mine, her lips against mine, her legs around me, her cunt taking me in over and over

"I can't get enough of you", I praise her, "I want to stay inside you forever"

"Stay Jinnie. I'm ok with that", she says softly

I nod, pulling her in for more kisses

Moving my other hand to her ass, I hold onto her, slamming into her, feeling her spasm around me

"Yes good girl. Feels so good", I moan

The more I fuck into her the closer I feel her getting

"Gonna cum for me?", I groan

She nods, "Soon"

Sitting up a little, I continue to move into her, my tongue down her throat

Moving my hand to her clit, I rub it fast, her cunt immediately gripping me as tightly as she can

"Oh my god", I groan, "Ppp...princess, I'm gonna...after you cum...I'm gonna"

"Yes Jinnie. Fuck I want your cum inside me. Wanna feel you"

I groan wondering if she's thought about that too

About me filling her up

"You want that baby? You thought about me shooting my cum inside this tight sweet cunt?"

She nods, "Yes Jinnie. Fuck, think about it all the time. Think about you all the time"

"Fuck", I groan, hoping she isn't just saying this in the moment

Because as this is happening, as we're together, I'm realizing I have feelings for her

I don't know when it happened, but I know it's the reason I was so jealous of her dancing with San and Seonghwa.

It's why I asked her to dance with me, why I wanted to kiss her, why I let her blow me, why I asked her back here

Why I'm fucking her

I don't know what's going to happen after tonight but right now, all I want is her

I move my fingers faster, making sure I get her spot, wanting to feel her orgasm right now

"Jinnie! Jinnie, yes Jinnie", she yells, exploding on me, throbbing so fucking pleasurable, soaking me in her creamy cum

Pure ecstasy hits me and I hold her down on me as I empty inside her, yelling her name

My body shakes against hers, the pleasure overwhelming

I can't remember the last time sex was so fucking amazing

Actually scratch that

I won't remember because there wasn't another time where it felt anything remotely like this

She's the only one to give it to me this good, the only one to make it this incredible

The pleasure ebbs, both of us finishing at the same time, with her collapsing on top of me, her face buried in my neck

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her tightly, rubbing her back, kissing her forehead

"Jinnie", she says sleepily

"Shh princess. Go to sleep baby", I answer, moving my hand into her hair

"I ..I can?"

She better

She's so comfortable and feels so good in my arms

I don't want her to leave

"Yeah baby. Stay"

"Ok Jinnie", she answers, snuggling into me, her arm around my neck

I hold her, running my fingers in her hair as she falls asleep

Her breathing evens out and I just smile, leaning my head on hers and closing my eyes

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

Three months later

The music in the club is loud but I'm used to it by now

I'm good at tuning it out

And I'm too busy kissing my girlfriend to pay attention

As soon as we got here, we sat at our usual table in the back and I pulled her on my lap, kissing her ever since

"God are you guys coming up for breath?", San asks, putting drinks down at the table

"You have no idea how annoying this gets", Namjoon answers

"Yeah, it's like we're watching a movie and the next time I see them, they're kissing or they left to go fuck", Jimin adds

"Well at least you don't have to hear her talk about him non stop", Yunho says

"Or about his massive cock and how good he feels", Wooyoung laughs

I pull away, hearing that, "What the fuck?"

"Oh look they came up for air", Yoongi rolls his eyes

"Yeah well stop talking about my dick"

"Then tell your girlfriend to stop telling us about your dick", Hongjoong shoots back

I look at her, "Princess?"

Her cheeks turn red, looking away from me, "Sorry baby. But it's just too good"

"Yeah but talking to guys about it, Jo?", I frown

She pouts, "I don't really have anyone else to talk to about it. And they're like girls anyway"

"Hey!", San protests

"I'm not a girl", Yeosang says

"Oh you know what I mean", she rolls her eyes, "You're like girls to me. I can talk to you guys"

"Yes you can but for the love of all things holy, don't call us girls", Seonghwa says, "Especially not in front of...you know girls"

"Potential fuck buddies", Wooyoung clarifies

"Yeah ok. Sorry", she says

"Before you two go at it again, do you want a drink?", Jungkook asks

We both shake our heads

She moves closer, pressing kisses to my neck, turning me on

Ignoring everyone again, I lift her face to mine, my lips on hers again

I can't get enough of her kisses

I knew I wouldn't that night and I was right

The next morning, I woke up laying on top of her and I was so happy to see her

I waited until she woke up and the first thing she did when she saw me was smile

I knew then I wanted to wake up to her as often as I could

So I asked her to get breakfast with me and at breakfast I asked her on a date that night

And on that date, I told her how I felt

That I liked her and wanted to be with her

Then I asked her if she liked me and if she meant everything she said the night before

She turned an adorable shade of pink and admitted that she had feelings for me for awhile

That one of the issues with Seonghwa was her feelings for me

Needless to say I was so shocked

She did love Seonghwa and he did love her but there were other issues in the relationship besides me, with both of them

He cheated once, she drank too much for his liking, he wasn't sure if they would last, then she wasn't sure

They broke up like five times but they always got back together

Until this last time

When he asked her to try again she told him she couldn't because of her feelings for me

That shocked the shit out of me

She turned him down because of me

She said she was never going to tell me about her feelings, especially because what I was going through because of Minji

Nothing was ever going to happen but it did because we were both drunk

Honestly I was glad we were together

She agreed to be with me and it's been amazing

She is the best girlfriend I could ever ask for

So attentive, doing anything she can for me, spending all her time with me

She stopped drinking so much on her own, without me asking anything, which I wasn't going to

And she's an animal in bed, making me the same way

The sex is mind-blowing and it's everyday

I've never had a higher sex drive in my life

I try to do everything she asks for too, which isn't much

She does like to party and go to clubs and though I'm not too fond of clubbing, I go with her all the time because she wants to go

I'm used to it by now and my friend group is now good friends with her friend group

They even hang out without us there

"Here they go again", Tae mutters as I kiss her deeply

"Oh just let it go", Seonghwa sighs. "They're not gonna stop"

I was surprised when Seonghwa gave her a thumbs up the first time we came to the club as a couple

We found out that Ara and Seonghwa set us up that night

Seonghwa told Ara that when Joanne danced with him, she should ask me to dance, then after a song or two both of them would leave us on the dance floor, hoping we'd dance together and something would spark between us

So we owed them a big thank you

Seonghwa doesn't seem to have any hard feelings towards me and I don't have any towards him

I got my girl and that's all I really care about now

Kissing her, I move my hand on her thigh, sliding it up under her skirt, touching her skin

"Really Jinnie?", she giggles into the kiss

"I can't help it princess. I love feeling your skin"

It's so soft, so smooth and I love touching her everywhere

"Is that all this is?"

"Well no", I smile, "You know I'm gonna fuck you sooner or later"

"Is that so?", she smirks

I nod, "Yeah princess. I love you and I wanna be with you all the time"

She looks at me in shock and I'm just confused

"Uh what?", I ask

"You...love me?"

"Caught that huh?", I ask smirking now

She nods, "Is it true?"

"Of course it is Jo. I love you"

"But you loved me before", she points out

"Not the same and you know it. I'm in love with you"

I knew it was going to happen

My feelings for her only grew and even though things with Mingji didn't work, I wasn't scared to fall for Joanne

I know she'd never cheat, never do anything to hurt me

I trust her with my heart

"I'm in love with you too Jinnie. So much", she says softly

"You have no idea how happy that makes me", I tell her

I'm overjoyed

I have the best girlfriend and she loves me

It can't get any better than that

"Oh I know Jinnie. I know how happy it makes me to hear you love so I know how you feel"

I run my fingers in her hair, "Good princess. You're the best you know that?"

She giggles, "Yeah I know"

That just makes me laugh

"You're the best too Jin. I love you"

"I love you", I tell her, then pull her back into a kiss

"Here we go again", Jungkook sighs

Yeah here we go again and again, everyday, all the time

I just hold her, falling into her kiss, the loud music of the club fading away until it's just me and her

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