#when we talked about how it hurts me that she never checks on me during episodes and she said she would just a few days ago

[joycrispy]

I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta

[hazbinwhoree]

BRO?$!&?& OAAA I SAW YOU WERE OPEN TO ADAM REQUESTS AND OHHH. MY SNAP.

i am in desperate need. of adam smut.

NOW, WOULD IT BE OKAY FOR ME TO ASK FOR ADAM SMUT WITH A SUBMISSIVE FEMALE SINNER READER WHO IS:

usually shy nervous as fuck but absolutely watches him when he thinks he isn't looking

likes to compliment him in general (at the most random times too, despite the dickmaster being the FUCKING WORST, and she would get that but he IS kinda fine so)

touch-starved, incredibly easy to fluster and tease (bro has a thing for his voices and looks too, one word or look and she'd be on her knees)

pretty insecure in general (and is a sucker for being praised in bed)

I'd also specifically like to hear what he would say to the reader ESPECIALLY THAT IDFK AAA GO CRAZY

Adam’s Sinner

Part 1/3 Part 2

A/N: I was so fucking happy to get a request you don’t even understand. Anyway here it is, I hope I did it justice and you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut

Adam had been aware of (Name) for about ten years. They met during the extermination, Adam cornering her in an alley. Something compelled him to spare her, and yes he realized what a hypocrite that made him. Poor Vaggie. “Fucking run, bitch.” She bolted. Adam looked around to make sure no one had seen.

The next year, Adam noticed (Name) watching him, hiding behind corners and in shadows. She did this during every extermination for about five years before Adam decided during one extermination to confront her.

(Name) peered around the corner of the dark alley she was hiding in, watching Adam kill a fellow sinner. It should disgust her, but ever since he spared her life she had a strange sort of attraction towards him. Adam looked up and (Name) ducked back behind the wall. When she peered out again, Adam was nowhere to be seen.

“What’s up, sugar tits?”

(Name) yelped, jumping when Adam appeared behind her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. (Name) could feel her face heating up. Adam seemed to find it amusing. “Flustered?” (Name) swallowed.

“You know I’ve seen you watching me for the last few exterminations. What’s up with that, hm?”

(Name) had no answer.

“What’s your name?” Adam asked.

“(Name),” she answered quietly. Adam had to bend down to hear her. His proximity made her blush worse, and he snickered. “I think I figured out why. No surprise really, of course you’d want a piece of the first man in existence. I’m the fucking Dickmaster.”

He let her go shortly after their exchange, but confronted her again the next year. As years passed, Adam would spare thirty minutes every extermination to talk to (Name). He found himself becoming fond of the sinner. Her story of how she ended up in hell was interesting, and it definitely helped that she stroked his ego with compliments.

Adam found himself looking forward to seeing (Name) even more than he looked forward to the exterminations. He was grateful Lute hadn’t caught on.

A few years later, and Adam noticed (Name) wasn’t following him as she normally would. So he sought her out. She’d told him a few years ago where she lived, so that was the first place Adam checked. Sure enough, he found her there.

“Sup.”

(Name) jumped. “Adam!”

“What the fuck, babe, not interested in seeing me this year?” Adam placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt, although while he’d never admit it, it actually did hurt him.

“We can’t see each other anymore,” (Name) announced, looking away.

“Bitch why?”

“Because one of these days we’re going to get caught. I know what happened to Vaggie. What would happen if the exterminators found out their leader was socializing with a sinner?”

“You’re not like the other sinners,” Adam argued. “I’d show them that.”

“How?”

Adam was quiet.

“Exactly. And to be honest, I can’t take the emotional torture anymore.”

“The fuck are you on about, ‘emotional torture’? Come on babe-”

“Adam no. I can’t let myself get any closer to you. We only see each other once a year and I got attached, and dealing with only seeing you once a year has gotten too painful.”

Adam was rather taken aback by the confession. He felt the same way but had been gaslighting himself to believe he didn’t. For once in his life, Adam couldn’t find anything to say. He decided the best course was the course of action rather than talking.

He leaned down and abruptly pressed his lips to (Name)’s. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. When Adam received no response on her end, he pulled back, worried he’d fucked up. She stared up at him with this look on her face that Adam couldn’t place. He didn’t know if it was positive or negative.

“Again,” she finally spoke in a small voice. A smirk stretched across Adam’s face, and he bent down once more to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back this time, almost desperately, and Adam’s arms wrapped around her waist. She shuddered and he pulled back.

“Are you okay?” No teasing or cursing.

“Yeah I just… I haven’t had anyone touch me like this in a long time.”

Adam couldn’t say the same, but this was the first time in a long time emotions had been involved. He kissed her again and snuck his tongue into her mouth as she kissed back. “I want to fuck you,” Adam mumbled against her lips. “Okay.”

Adam pushed her down on her bed, crawling on top of her. He reconnected their lips and slid a hand under her shirt. “Damn,” he commented when his wandering hand reached her chest. “Nice rack.” (Name) rolled her eyes. Adam began kissing down her neck, sucking and biting to leave his mark. (Name) moaned and grabbed onto his horns.

Adam pulled back to shed his robe, and (Name) yanked her shirt over her head. Now that Adam actually had eyes on her chest, he stared for a moment. “So pretty~” he cooed. (Name) blushed and swallowed.

“Oh~” Adam realized. “You like that, don’t you? You like being praised?”

(Name) looked away. Adam grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, babe, it’s cute.” He returned to her neck, kissing down and down, her shoulder, her collarbone. Then he slid down slightly to press his face between her breasts. He laid more kisses on her chest before taking a nipple into his mouth.

Sensitive, (Name) arched her back and whimpered. “I like that noise,” Adam said, moving to the other breast. “Make it again.” He sucked and she whimpered.

Adam was aware he had a short window of time to make this work, so he pulled back and pulled down (Name)’s pants and panties in one swift motion. (Name) got embarrassed being so exposed, so Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to level the playing field.

He noticed (Name) staring at his dick and smirked. He took it in his hand, pumping it a few times for show. “You like what you see, baby? Of course you do. Can’t beat the original dick.”

He crawled on top of her again, nudging her thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. He reconnected their lips while his hand traveled down to the place she wanted it the most. “So wet for me, good girl,” Adam teased. Flustered, (Name) shut him up with another kiss.

They made out while Adam experimentally slid one slender finger into her. Met with no resistance, he added another one, and began languidly pumping them in and out. (Name) was shaking. Eager to hurry this along, Adam added another finger. Three stretched her out and she moaned against his lips at the sensation. It made Adam’s dick throb.

He fingered her, with his thumb circling her clit, until he decided she was well enough prepared, pulling his hand away. (Name) whined at the loss but was quickly shut up by Adam grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders. She gasped. Adam lined himself up with her entrance and sunk in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She squirmed, his girth proving to be a little painful to take.

Adam reached between them to give her clit attention, and that loosened her up right away. He bottomed out with a groan, closing his eyes. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Adam kissed her again, basically bending her in half as he began thrusting. He swallowed her whimpers and moans while his pace picked up in speed and intensity.

He had tried to be slow and gentle, he really had.

Adam set a brutal pace, and (Name) clawed at his back as he pounded into her. “Fuck, yeah, you’re so good for me, tits. Such a good girl, all mine,” Adam talked as he fucked her, and his every word brought (Name) closer to the edge. “You feel so fucking good.”

Adam’s thrusts were getting sloppy as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me,” he murmured. “Fucking cum for me, baby.” (Name) did, her back arching off the bed, her head thrown back and mouth open in slack pleasure. Her tightening around him pushed Adam over the edge, and he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside her.

They both panted, holding onto one another as they came down from their highs. Adam pulled out and rolled off of (Name), collapsing onto the bed next to her. He pulled her into his chest and covered her with one of his wings, nuzzling his face into her hair.

“I’ll find a way to see each other more,” he muttered. “I’ll figure something out.” (Name) buried her face in his chest. “Promise?” Her voice was muffled.

“Promise.”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel

[myouicieloz]

What Friends do

Kim Minjeong x 5thmember!reader

Synopsis: winter finds out that you and giselle have been fucking. as you grow tired of her subtle glares and questions, you ask her if she wants to try it, too. She’s hesitant about it, at first, but soon confesses that she’d love to try being edged in public, and naturally, you’re more than happy to help her with that.

Warnings: sub!winter x dom!reader. public edging + cumming. vibrators. lots of plot w a little bit of smut, I guess :) I hope this is ok ˆˆ I tried my best.

Word count: 5k

Notes: I j kept writing and suddely it was 5k long lol. honestly, I think +3k words (personally speaking) might be too much… the words start to lose their meanings and my writing kind of slacks off, yk? So it’ll try to tone it down, for any future works. that’s my opinion, tbh. what do you think?

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

-

“Are you and Aeri unnie a thing?” Winter asks, ever so casually. Her eyes are still glued on her phone; playing sudoku, most likely.

Her words make you choke on your milkshake, coughing violently. “What? No. of course not,” You add, curiously, “What makes you think that?”

“She checks you out all the time.” Your bandmate shrugs, tone indifferent as if she were talking about the weather. “And it’s not like you’re exactly subtle, either. You’d think her face is in her tits, with how much you ogle them.”

You frown, playing with your drink’s straw. Your encounters with Aeri were happening with some sort of frequency now, although it was rather natural— you were both needy and the sex was good and easy, so it was truly a win-win situation. However, you’ve never stopped to think about the way you acted in public. Now that you did, you could observe the truth behind Winter’s comments: you’d gotten closer to her over the past few weeks. Giselle wasn’t a naturally over affective person, but she’d often be found tugging your shirt or brushing your hips, dragging you to be closer to her whenever you wandered too far.

You gulp, reminding yourself to talk to her about it, later.

“…because if you are, then it’s ok, too.” You’ve missed most of Winter’s discourse, lost in thoughts, one she’s deeply immersed into. The older girl’s voice hushes in a low, hesitant tone, the usual confidence she’d try so hard to bring on stage all gone now. “I just wish any of you told us. I-I thought we were friends! I tell you everything. It’s not fair.”

Winter’s short, auburn hair moves with the wind’s breeze, enticing her delicate appearance. She crosses her arms, rolling her eyes once she realizes you were too distracted to pay attention to her words and give her a proper answer.

She already knows about it, somehow. And she’s hurt you haven’t told her. You realize. She’s a smart, attentive girl, of course; probably figured it out all by herself.

“Sorry, I dozed out.” You shrug as she remains silent, not backing down from getting her answer—yet not amused, either. It wasn’t uncommon for you to unintentionally drift apart during a conversation, with your unnies having to explain stuff to you two, sometimes three times, before you finally managed to maintain your focus for long enough to understand. “Ok, ok. We might’ve fucked a few times…”

Minjeong smirks; she loves to be right about things. Clapping her hands, she lets out little giggles, “I knew it! Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Y/n? We’re literally best friends!”

She was right; Winter was the one you were closest with, out of all the girls, even though none of you knew exactly why. Your personalities were rather different. However, you’d often be found talking for hours and hours over the craziest topics with insane enthusiasm. You tell her everything, and she was great at giving you advice and putting you back to your senses. She never complained, not even when your banter was too frequent or too whiny for the other members to endure.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize, sincerely. You really should’ve told her: it was nothing serious, and there was no reason in hiding it. “It just didn’t even go through my mind. It was so natural how it happened the first time—and the others… I didn’t think it would even matter.” You poke her nose, noticing the way Winter’s pout turns into a small smile. You knew she wasn’t truly upset— she simply just longs to be a part of your life. “What do you want to know, though? C’mon, I’ll tell you everything.”

Your suggestive tone is the reason Winter’s face turns as red as a tomato, sipping on her Coke Zero avidly to avoid your suggestive answer.

She does smack you when your loud laugh starts attracting them attention, though.

-

“Aeri is going out.” Winter announces, taking your AirPods off without your consent, so you’d fully focus on her.

You glance at Aeri, who’s caught up rearranging a bunch of stuff in one of her small Prada purses. Your bandmate is wearing a beautiful leopard dress with scandalous black heels, pin-straight hair falling neatly to her waist and red tint kissing her lips. She looks flawless, much different from you— too cozy in your big pajamas and disheveled hair.

“I have eyes, you know.” You mumble, but smile at the sight of the Uchinaga, dropping your nintendo on the couch and whistling to get her attention. “You look so hot, Aeri unnie! Have fun!” Aeri smiles and gives you and Winter a kiss before running towards the door.

“I will, thanks Y/nn-ie! Don’t wait up for me!” She screams as she locks the door, leaving the room silent. The only apparent tension is Winter, who stares at you with narrowed eyes.

“What is wrong with you, unnie?” You scoff, annoyed as you return to your game. Mario’s red cap and silhouette can be seen through the screen in your hands, and Winter shifts on the couch, hugging her knees as she keeps on staring at you.

“Aeri is going out. Somi-sunbaenim will be there, too.” She repeats herself, making you even more confused. Seeing your frown and how her words weren’t enough to have you interested in paying her attention, Winter grabs the device, shutting it down.

“Hey! What the fuck?” You try to take it from her hands, only for her to tighten her grip.

The auburn haired girl has, unlike you, a significant amount of strength.

“Yn, focus! Aeri is going out and Somi will be there!” Her voice is outraged, not able to understand how you were so chill about this.

“So?” You are still frowning as you try to get your nintendo back, clearly not bothered. “Somi’s fucking hot, Winter. I hope Aeri fucks her. Again, I mean. You know…”

Winter’s mouth opens to a big O, surprised by your answer. You take advantage of that moment to grab your nintendo back, although she’d managed to get your sole focus. You cock your head to the sides, engines running with the earn of being able to understand what went through her mind.

“Aren’t you jealous? Or insecure?” Winter asks, frowning.

“What? No. Why would I be?” seeing her equally confused expression, you sigh, sitting properly. “Winter, we fuck, that’s literally it. Aeri and I are friends, and will only be friends. It’s just sex, really.”

It was clear that the older girl still didn’t understand your dynamics, but she bit her tongue, not wanting to be a bitch about it.

“Ok.” She nodded, messing her hair, “I just don’t really get it, I think.”

“There’s no jealousy between us, Minjeongie.” You tell her, hoping to clarify things. “Because there’s not a relationship, get it? And there won’t be one. We are friends, and bandmates, and we like to have fun, sometimes. Nothing else.”

She stands up, still looking at you as if you were an alien.

“Ok.” Your bandmate sighs, clearly disapproving your whole dynamics. “I’ll go to my room.”

“Huh, ok.”

You stare at Winter’s back while she leaves the living room, without waiting for an answer.

-

The two of you are splashed on your bedroom’s massive rug when she mentions it again.

“So… it all started with that?” Winter asks, looking at the vibrator displayed on your desk. You grit your teeth, realizing you’d simply thrown it in the first place you saw, after cleaning it. You had found the toy when doing your laundry, and decided it wouldn’t hurt to keep it extra clean, even if it had been ages since you’ve last used it.

After the day Giselle went to the party, you started noticing how curious Winter had gotten about your relationship— or lack thereof. She’d send you subtle glances whenever the five of you were hanging out, and her questions were soon becoming more and more obvious. It was fairly noticeable, how intrigued and interested the whole thing had gotten her.

With that, Winter started seeking for details of how you and Giselle fucked for the first time, which led you to the current situation: the green vibrator displayed in your hands, teasing your friend as you playfully jiggle it onto her face. You try to hand it to her so she’ll touch it, but she retreats instead, face all red from embarrassment.

“Pretty much, yeah.” You smirk, eyeing her just as curiously, “Why are you suddenly so interested, though? Would you like to try it?”

“What, no! Ew.” Her eyes go wide at your suggestion, and Winter shakes her head vigorously. You laugh at how she looks like she’s about to combust; she’s always been so composed, and so… chaste, whenever one of you mentioned anything about sex. It’s endearing, even.

You had thought, initially, that she was simply a private person— which was more than ok, of course. However, her current reactions led you to wonder if her reactions weren’t from lack of experience, too.

“Ok, then.” You tuck your vibrator back in the drawers and brush the subject off, immediately sensing how her muscles relax, and her face changes into a mix of easy features. The last thing you’d want is to make her uncomfortable, so the change is much appreciated.

You do notice how Winter keeps biting her lip, though. And the way her eyes flicker to your drawers, before focusing back on your face. You bite your cheek, too, to prevent a big smile from covering your face. She’ll come around, just like you did. Patience was a virtue, and you would happily wait for your friend to grow confident enough to come out of her shell and take whatever she wanted to.

-

“I changed my mind.” Winter announces, staring down at you with assertiveness. You snort, pouting.

“Yeah, that’s too bad. You gave me that fucking top, there’s no way you’re getting it back.”

“No.” She rolls her eyes, annoyed. “I mean, about that other thing.”

The five of you have just finished performing at Music Bank, and you’re currently trying very hard to sit still, so the makeup artist can work on getting all the foundation out of your face. As a result, you’re unable to turn and take a proper look at your bandmate, whose voice is so quiet you barely hear her correctly.

“You mean dinner? Because we still have to cook, even though it sucks, I know. It’s our day, there’s no escape.” You frown. Winter rubs her arms nervously, eyes staring everywhere but at your face.

“No!” She’s exasperated, and impatient to know you’re not playing with her: you simply don’t understand what she’s implying. Which means she’ll have to be direct about it, nearly begging. And that’s the last thing Winter wants to do. “I want to… try what you’ve suggested, the other day. With the, ahn sex thing.”

You try your best to not make your eyes grow wide, swallowing deep to keep focus. “Ok. Do you want to do it when we get back home?”

Winter hesitates. Her hands trace patterns on the beige vanity, “I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to do it at home, either.” She seems to ponder, before adding. “But I do want to do it. Badly”.

“Ok.” You nod, smiling at her to make sure she’s comfortable and completely reassured. “We can just go with it whenever you’re comfortable, then. There’s no need to hurry.”

Winter smiles back at you, before being dragged by Ningning to film that new tiktok challenge the maknae’s been so eager to shoot. You don’t mind, though. In, fact, you thrive on watching them being the silliest, carefree versions of themselves they can, while on camera. It pleases you to know they can show such part of themselves to your fans without being scrutinized or criticized.

-

The five of you are at the mall, enjoying your day off together as if you’ve never been separated in your entire lives. You’re laying in one of the waiting room’s cushions, waiting for Karina and Ningning to be done with trying on the whole store’s winter collection. Giselle’s hands are full, too, and her critical eyes examine every piece before choosing for herself. Her expressive faces leave you curious, eager to you know what thoughts go through her mind. In fact, you get so invested in trying to guess the girl’s internal monologue, you barely notice Winter’s frame standing beside you.

You haven’t touched her at all, not ever since she’s confessed to you about her urges. You know Winter must be fuming, whimpering with need and the desire to be relived, or simply touched, in any ways you’d like. Your intention was to leave the idea of being pleasured linger on your bandmate’s mind. The flashes going through her brain for weeks until she was nothing but pliable and ready for your commands, searching restlessly for an orgasm that she’d have to work really hard for.

It was the sweetest part, out of all of it. Being able to see Winter jump slightly whenever your fingers brush her skin, like a lost, fragile bunny. You adore it.

“Y/n.” She whines, and you can hear the neediness in her voice, no matter how much she tries to hide it. “I don’t want to wait, anymore. I want it now.”

You roll her eyes at her demands, even though you’ve already decided you’ve had enough playing, too.

“I do have something for you, Winter.” You tell her, reaching your arms out. Once she gets to you, you kiss her hands, ever so gently. “Something to make you feel better. To kill the urges that have been going on your body for weeks, now. Would you like it?”

Her voice falters. “I thought you had forgotten about t-that.”

“Oh, I could never.” You think your smirk will surpass your face, with how much you’re smiling. Ever since she’d pleaded for you to touch her, your mind has been plagued by the numerous ways you’d take her, ruining her pretty little body until she was passed out, drunk on her orgasms. “Shall we, then?”

Truth be told, the anticipation you’ve built was starting to get to you as much as it riled Winter up.

She was confused to be guided to the restroom stalls rather to the car. Were you not taking her home? How else would you get a taste of her, like you promised, then?

Her thoughts, however, dissipated once you started to unbutton her jeans, letting the loose piece fall through her knees.

“W-What are you doing?” She paled, trying to reach for them back. Her back hit the wall, and she was once again reminded of how petite she truly was, cornered by your frame. She tried her best to nudge you, hoping to get you off her. Your feet, however, were stamped onto the ground, and the grip you had on her hips was a tad too strong. She gulped, realizing you’ve allowed her to overpower you every time you played games or competed for something. “Someone might c-come in, Y/n. Please…”

It aroused you to have her begging so quickly. You’d barely touched her, yet there she was: with her mouth half open and her fingers poking, scratching your neck. You smiled.

“They can.” You confirmed, seeing her gulp. “We better not take long, then. Right? We wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this. You look so pretty, though. I wish you could see yourself, right now.”

Your words were nothing but true. She looks so adorable, it leaves you aching. Your hands twitch, tense with how much you’ve envisioned groping her tiny body and sticking your fingers up in her cunt until she was screaming loud enough for everyone in that store to know what you were up to.

You’d wait for her to come around and be confident, though, just like Giselle did to you. Besides, the anticipation was part of the fun.

She hums, already feeling herself become lightheaded by your praises. Soon enough, Winter finds herself getting distracted by your sweetness, and it’s not long until she’s completely relaxed under you. In fact, she’s so engrossed by your frame, she barely registers your hand. It trails lower, and your fingers brush her clit through her small panties.

Winter drops her head, even though she’s no longer worried, and looks up to meet your eyes.

“I did say you were going to get what you’ve been asking for, didn’t I, dearest?” You explain, focused on her big orbs. Winter’s eyes observe your every move, attentive. “And you’ve been doing so good with the shows and rehearsals… You deserve a treat, naturally.”

You allow your hand to cub her sex, slowly caressing it as you feel her shiver under you. With gentle manners, you insert two of your fingers into her cunt, smirking to find her already dripping wet. She moans so loud you start placing small, wet kisses down her neck, to gather her focus back to you and not to the deep, unhurried pleasure your fingers provide her, now pulling in an out in a slow rhythm.

Taking all of her in, you add, “Do you like this, Minjeongie? The thrill of knowing someone might walk in and know how dirty you are, spreading yourself for me with such ease?” You smirk, not resisting on rubbing her clit for a few seconds, before your fingers find the place they were meant to wander for so long. “God, your cute little cunt is so wet already.”

You let out a little laugh, reminding of yourself of your intentions as you retrieve your fingers from her pussy, making her lick them clean. She does so, like a good, obedient girl.

“You always excel in everything, unnie. Such a good job you’re doing.” You praise the girl locked in your arms, immediately shutting down her needy whines and complaints.

“Please don’t stop…” Whatever words Winter’s had in mind die the moment she spots a small toy in your hands. You flicker it between your fingers, allowing her to process what you intended to do. “It this—“

“What you’ve told me about? Yes, it is.” You smile, making a show of sucking and getting the vibrator wet for her yourself. This time, it’s her turn to have a darkened gaze, one filled with hunger. Her attention is all on you: on your next movements, on your body. You adore it. “I even got it in purple, just like you had told me. It’s so pretty, Winter. A pretty little toy for a pretty girl, begging to be ruined.” You murmur, getting to your knees and facing her pussy. Your gaze never leaves hers, careful to not miss a single breath of hers.

Winter is truly a sight, and you want to make sure you’d remember all of her sensitive, fast responses.

In fact, you were actually very surprised when Winter went to your room in the middle of the night, confessing about her few, failed sexual experiences and what she’d like to try, someday. It wasn’t unusual for you to talk about sex with your bandmates, although Winter never spoke about herself to you— at least, not directly. However, the two of you were already used to talking about numerous topics, and the conversation went by easily enough. You were pretty surprised to hear her confess, with a quiet tone, about how much the thought of herself being tossed around like a doll aroused her. How she sometimes fantasized about doing things in public, yet hidden enough so people wouldn’t be completely sure about her actions. It pleased her, knowing she’d be clouding their minds, leaving them wondering without a proper answer. Though they’d have their doubts, no one would have a clue about it: that was what aroused her the most.

Of course, you were more than eager to make her wishes come true, and the current time seemed like the perfect one to do just that.

Winter’s pretty cunt’s all on display for you, and you can’t help but to get a taste of her. So, of course, you do so: parting her folds, you give her clit a brief, sloppy kiss. You feel your friend’s delicate fingers forging a firm hold onto your hair, and Winter tries her best to not make any noises. It’s the same as nothing, though.

She is, just as you had imagined it, too sensitive.

“No! Y/n, don’t tease…” She huffs, frustrated. As the toy slips inside, she can’t help but to let out a high-pitched scream—one that’s muffled by her own hands, who run towards her mouth in hopes to keep herself quiet. Her shoulders shake due to her laughs, then, as she fails terribly.

Seeing her so carefree is more than enough to have you giggling, too. You mess her hair, pinching her cheeks.

“Behave, ok? If you’re good enough ‘till the end of the day, I might reward you when we get home.” You promise Winter as you get up, zipping her pants back to place adn kissing her cheek.

The look she gives you assures you she’ll be anything but.

-

“Are you okay, Minjeongie? Your face is all flushed.” Karina asks the red-haired girl, as the oldest sits beside you at the restaurant.

The three of you nod, and Ningning is quick to put her palm over Winter’s forehead.

“You’re hot, too. And all sweaty. Were you this sick earlier in the afternoon?” She asks, with a worried tone. Winter takes a sip of her water, hoping to collect herself before answering her bandmates, but nearly drowns herself in it once you increase the intensity of the vibrations. They echo into her cunt, making it impossible for her to answer anything straight.

She was so stupid, thinking it was an easy task: walk around with the girls as they tried some clothes on, then attend dinner, and soon to go back to their dorms, where she’d get her reward for being a good girl and finally get properly fucked, like she had silently begged you for so long. No, she was a smart, attentive girl. How could she not have predicted that stupid toy would send such hums deep into her walls? It was difficult to stay still, and nearly impossible to focus or to keep her mouth shut. In fact, she feared deeply she’d just end up moaning loudly if she even tried to speak anything.

Luckily for her, you decide to give her a few moments of peace. As soon as the settings were back to its lowest, she takes another long gulp, with deep breaths, too.

“I’m all good, really. Just tired from walking around so much.” It’s all she manages to say, avoiding Ningning’s lingering touches.

“We should get you to the doctor, perhaps.” Giselle suggests. Her eyes, however, are not focused on Winter. Her attention is all on you, instead. Her gaze is so strong you turn your head away, looking everywhere but to your best friend.

“No! No, there’s no need for that.” Winter gesticulates, nodding and moving her upper body as much as she’s able to without getting the toy to budge. She tries her best to prove to her friends she was indeed ok. “Really, I’m sure it’ll pass once the food c-comes fuck.” Winter stands up abruptly, leaning on her arms to lift herself up as her legs felt like pure jelly. “Nervermind. I j-just have to use the restroom real quick. If you’ll excuse me.”

So, Winter leaves, without waiting for an answer. Almost instantly, you get up too, setting your napkin aside in a calming motion.

“I’ll go help her, girls. Don’t worry.” They all nod, their features completely diverting from one another; while Karina is frowning, Ning keeps alternating her looks into you and the hallway Winter has just disappeared into, torn between letting you handle the situation or stepping up and helping her unnie herself, and Giselle… Giselle has a blank expression, the engines running inside her mind.

Her long nails tap the wooden table in a steady rhythm, staring at your back as you leave them be, walking into the restroom to meet your bandmate. You make sure to lock the door once you get inside, too.

The room is exquisite, a perfect portrait of the whole establishment; embroiled with white and red, the adornments are carefully thought to have the room give off a harmonious, eloquent vibe. You don’t pay much attention to it, though. Instead, your gaze is focused on the girl in front of you, the one who’s gripping the sink with too much strength.

“Are you unwell, unnie? How can I help you?” You ask her, playfully.

Winter stares at you thought the mirror, as you approach her. Her teeth are clenched, her clothes are nibbled and her looks hold fire in them. You’re certain she could kill someone with such thing as a stare if she wanted to.

She opens her mouth, ready to throw a world of curses at you, but stops herself once you motion to your phone, now placing her vibrator at a particularly high setting.

“I’d keep some of those pretty thoughts of yours inside your head, if you’d like to cum just now.”

She’s smart, insufferably so, and you get the proof of it as soon as your words leave your mouth. Quickly, Winter’s defiant stare is gone, and she’s all pliable in your embrace, instead. She’s a whiny little mess, rubbing her teeth on your neck, licking and sucking it just slightly— though not enough to bruise.

“Let me cum, Y/n? Please? I really think I might explode.” She pleads, looking at you with her best puppy eyes. “I need it s-so bad, I swear I’ll fucking do anything, ‘promise.”

You smile at her change of attitude, nodding as you take the vibrator out of her cunt in one, swift motion, replacing it with your fingers. Your thumb works on her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure on it. Finally, you allow her to get the relief she so desperately wants.

“You can cum now, darling. Do it, then.”

The permission is all Winter needs to explode, her body throbbing as she feels so full of pleasure, with fireworks dangling from her skin into every possible part of her body. It’s so good, and she feels so complete it becomes difficult to breathe— the overwhelming sensations enough to make her shiver. She bites on your neck, then; just a single one, to keep her from screaming like she wanted to. You hold her through her orgasm, your strong arms helping to ride her through it as you whisper sweet praises in her ear. You’re proud of Winter.

You lose count of how many minutes you wait, making sure her breaths are even and stable to release her from your hold.

“You did excellent, holding up the whole time. Didn’t even let a single whimper out, in front of the girls. You took it so good, Winter…. Truly perfect.” You smirk, giving Winter’s tiny waist a reassuring squeeze. She hides her face in embarrassment, humming curses at you, but you can tell she’s delighted, too.

Grabbing her by the hips, you gently put her up on the marble. It’s an easy task, with her being so small, but the way your palms nearly circle her entire waist is enough for her face to get all flustered, once again.

Your low tone soothes Winter, who leans her head back as she feels your soft hands between her thighs, cleaning you up with paper the best you can, careful to not touch her most sensitive areas. The ghost of your fingers are enough to make her twitch, though, as much as she tries not to. Her responsiveness lets a laugh out of you, and you kiss the insides of her thighs, looking up at Winter with a reassuring smile.

“Stop saying it like that.” She murmurs, biting her bruised lip. Her hands run through her hair, just for the sake of having something to occupy herself with.

You smirk, throwing the paper away as you turn, taking a proper look at the beautiful, messy state she is. Still knelt between her thighs, you massage her thighs, palming them in big, circling motions.

“Like what?” You smirk, feigning innocence. Winter slaps you, playfully, and you shake your head, helping her to get down.

“Let’s go. The girls must be worried.” She says, trying to guide you out.

You stop her, gently grabbing her by the elbows.

“Are you really ok, though?” You ask, scanning her. “It’s ok if you still want some more time to gather yourself before going out, again. I can totally come up with something to fool them, or I don’t know—.”

Winter shakes her head, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She’s shy, suddenly, as she answers, “I’m completely fine, I swear! Actually, I liked it a l-lot.”

You sigh, relieved. “Ok, ok. But if you feel otherwise, tell me. Deal?”

“Deal.” Your bandmate assures you, reaching out for the door. Before you can leave, she calls for you, quietly, “Y/n?”

You hum, staring at her still-flustered face. “Thank you, you know. For… all of that.” Winter says, giving vou a faint smile.

“Don’t stress about it, unnie.” You smile, nudging her. “It’s what friends do, right?”

Winter laughs, not believing your words.

“Sure. That’s what friends do.”

#sol writes #aespa x yn #aespa x you #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa smut #aespa winter #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #kpop x you #winter x reader #kim minjeong x yn #kim minjeong smut #kim minjeong x reader #kim winter #winter smut

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?” you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x y/n

[wrongplacerighttime]

agent!harry x agent!fmc

the one where grace wants to forget and harry doesn’t. then she disappears. // little bunny part 5

well. here we are 🥺 the last part 🥺 brb i’m actually gonna cry about it.

little bunny masterlist

wc: 6.8k

tw: kidnapping, talks of murder, hurt/comfort trope, size kink, breeding kink (think that’s all) (as always let me know if i missed any)

bitter winds

It’s been the loneliest week of Grace’s life, she thinks. She’s been avoiding Harry like the plague, and he hasn’t necessarily been trying to see her, either. She knows she messed up, knows she broke the unspoken rule they seemed to have about not expressing feelings. It was supposed to be just sex.

They got back from Florida a few days ago, thankfully it was on Thursday and Aaron gave them Friday to rest. The weekend didn’t bring any new cases, so they didn’t speak. Didn’t have to be around each other

Harry had hovered over her name on his screen a time or two over the weekend (more like seven), and he just couldn’t bring himself to message or call. He stared at her name until the letters blurred together and it became illegible. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the plunge. He was afraid of his feelings, afraid of losing her because he didn’t know how to love her the way she deserved. She deserved someone good for her, and that wasn’t him…didn’t think it could ever be him. And he feels guilty—guilty that he’s taking something from her that he thinks he could never return.

Grace just doesn’t check her phone anyway, she hides under the covers and wishes it away. The feelings, the words she’d spoken…all of it. She replays his confusion on the other end of the phone, the way he said her name hesitantly, like he was warning her, at the words she had let slip. Words that were never intended to be spoken aloud. This humiliation feels like she’s stabbed herself in the chest, and his response was the twist of the knife.

——

Monday comes and Grace has to quite literally drag herself out of bed when her alarm blares through the tranquility of her room. She was half tempted to just not show up, but that wasn’t an option because she went AWOL during the last case after she confessed her love to Harry. She was angry at herself…at him. She knew it was misplaced. She had no reason to be in a sour mood, but she couldn’t help but just feel done. Her heart feels heavy in her chest, like it was full of concrete.

At the office, they keep their distance. She felt the pang in her heart when she heard his familiar footsteps walking through the door, and it took every fiber of effort to not look at him. She typed away on her keyboard, his eyes flitting to her once. When she didn’t so much as glance his way, he kept walking.

The tension was sharp, heavy. Their coworkers whispered to each other when they thought no one was listening, betting on which one would break first, sharing theories about what happened. As far as they were concerned the pair were innately opposite, but their banter kept the office light and airy. The cloud cover outside mirrored what it felt like in the office now. Cold and bitter and gloomy. Aarons door opening causes them all to look up. He looks around, raising a brow but choosing to ignore the uneasiness in the atmosphere.

“We have a case.”

——

Grace had a feeling of dread settled in her stomach the moment they landed in Caddo County, Oklahoma. It was January, it wasn’t terribly hot yet and it wasn’t tornado season, but something just felt off. She chalked it up to it being because of the case, just nervous. They made a home in the small police station, working with them to set up an area in the conference room and get to work. There have been a couple of murders in the small village of Fort Seminole. Small was an understatement. The population was less than 600 and the citizens were terrified that something like this was happening to their community. They thought it was the same person but called in the help of the FBI because they found a body dumped just three hours outside of Oklahoma in an even smaller town in Texas…and if it crossed state lines, it was a federal case anyway.

Aaron had made sure Grace and Harry were inevitably stuck working the geographical profile together, which means they would have to speak eventually. Somehow he had known that they had something they needed to work out, and he was hoping this would give them an excuse to do it.

The only sound in the conference room was the rustling of papers, cardstock and push pins. Grace had her back turned to Harry, shaking the box of pins, thinking to herself as she labeled the map. Red pins are for crime scenes and green are for the victims’ residence. She could feel his eyes on her, her heart felt like it was going a mile a minute and would beat out of her chest any second.

“Grace.” Her name coming from his lips is quiet, almost a whisper, and he’s tiptoeing around eggshells. She speaks before he can add anything else.

“Harry, listen. We don’t have to talk about it. We can just…go back to how things were before. Forget any of it ever happened, okay?” Her voice shakes, and he’s taken off guard by her statement.

“I don’t want to forget it, Grace.” His voice is soft, a gentleness she’s not used to hearing from him. It takes her by surprise. She bites the inside of her cheek, willing the stinging in the corners of her eyes to go away before she makes a fool of herself again.

“I think it’s better if we do.” She manages to say, swallowing the lump in her throat before turning back to the map so he can’t see her blinking the tears away. And he doesn’t know where this is coming from, because he meant what he said—he didn’t want to forget. He hears a sniffle coming from across the room and he watches her reach up to swipe a finger under the corner of her eye. All he wants to do is go to her, kiss her and tell her it’ll all be okay. That he feels the same.

He stays where he’s at, because if she wants to forget, he’ll try his best to forget, too.

——

Two days pass with no other incidents. They believe the suspect has likely caught wind of them being in town and has decided to lay low. They have alerts set up to send them any info on any case that is remotely similar to theirs within a 75 mile radius. Nothing, or anywhere, could be ruled out at this point. The radio never comes on, they never get any calls.

Grace chews on the end of her pen while reading over a report of the last victim. It just didn’t seem right. It felt like they were missing something. He was a single white male with no family in the area. His home had been left abandoned, frozen in time in the wake of his murder. The crime scene has long been cleaned but she believes she could still find something. She looks around, everyone else busy with their respective tasks and she decides she’ll just go alone.

“I’m going to the Jefferson house. See if we missed anything,” She mumbles to Aaron and he hums nodding once without looking up from the paper in front of him. She looks around, spotting Harry deep in conversation with a deputy and a pang stabs her heart. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, turning and walking out the double doors into the Oklahoman sunset.

The drive to the house was quick, easy to find. It was well put together, no mess or signs of a struggle inside due to the clean up crew already having gotten the place back in order. Dust rings rest on furniture, the only thing left of broken decor. The only indication a crime had happened here was the remnants of the bright yellow tape wound around the pillars of the front porch. Grace walks around, looking at the signs of someone’s livelihood, a life taken before it ever really got to begin, and she feels a twinge of guilt, grief for someone she didn’t even know. There were photos hung on the wall—pictures of the victim and their friends, pictures of their relatives with smiles so wide it was almost contagious. She shakes her head once, trying to shake away the thoughts and clear her mind.

She walks through, searching for anything that might stick out. She knew it would be almost impossible, but she was just hoping, praying, for something to catch her eye. She makes her way into the bathroom, taking in her surroundings and she spots a single drop of red on the white tile. When she bends down, she catches a glimpse of a blood soaked t-shirt in the bottom of the dirty laundry basket.

She stands, but before she can take another step, she feels a prick on her neck.

Then she blacks out.

——

When Grace comes to, her vision is blurry and her head is pounding. Her mouth feels drier than the Sahara and she tries to stand, but her legs are tied to the chair she’s sitting on, pulling on her hands she finds them bound behind her back. Her heart begins to race and her breathing becomes erratic.

“Pause. Breathe. In. Out.” She tells herself, blinking to clear the cloudiness from her dry eyes. She assesses the situation once her brain has calmed down enough to form a coherent thought. The room is dimly lit with one singular light bulb hanging over her head, the chair she’s sitting in is wooden and uncomfortable, rubbing the bare skin of her arms raw. Her hands feel like they’re bound with rope and she tries to pinpoint the nearest exit.

She can’t.

She turns the chair as much as she can without making herself topple over and she sees a set of stairs.

“Okay. I’m in a basement.” She says to herself, looking for anything she can maybe rub the rope against to loosen it or cut it. Then she hears a door opening followed by footsteps. She tries to calm her breathing and slow her heart rate. “Breathe. You’re trained for situations like this.”

A tall, burly man comes to stand in front of her. Her eyes flare with malice as he looks down at her, a scruffy beard hiding most of his lower half and a Stetson perched on the top of his head. His hair is long and greasy underneath, looking like it hadn’t been washed in days or even weeks.

He doesn’t say a word, just looks her over once from under the brim that hiding his features from her before snapping a singular picture of her with the polaroid camera she didn’t notice he’d carried in with him. The flash is blinding and leaves her vision spotty, forcing her eyes to squeeze shut. Without another word, he walks around her, back up the stairs and the door slams shut. She hears a lock twist and she’s alone again.

——

The next morning, Harry sits up in the uncomfortable motel bed, feeling like he slept on a plank of wood, and stretches his arms above his head. He’s already decided he’s going to try to talk to Grace today and apologize for being so distant. He wants to make it work, truly. He doesn’t want her to be afraid of loving him. She had left the police station around 6 PM yesterday and he didn’t see her before she came back to the motel so he decided to just leave her be when he rolled into the parking lot around 10:00. The light was off, as far as he could tell and he assumed she had been in bed already. She was always tired when they traveled outside of their own city, he had learned. She gave the excuse that it was due to not being in her own bed but he knew she was always overthinking and anxious about the cases they worked, getting too close to the families or friends of the victims and making her heart ache for them. That’s what made her a good agent, her heart was really in it to solve the case. It also sometimes got her in trouble.

He dresses for the day, brushing his teeth and looking in the mirror once before walking out the door of his room. He walks down the sidewalk of the dingy little motel, down to room 5, the one Grace would be in. He takes a deep breath, and he knocks. He waits.

Nothing.

He knocks again, “maybe she didn’t hear me?” He thinks. He waits and listens, no rustling behind the door. No footsteps drawing closer. He peeks through the window and he can just barely make out the shape of the bed that was still made through the crack in the curtains, and he thought it was unusual. Grace wasn’t the “make your bed every morning” type.

He makes his way to the station, looking around the room for her. He sees everyone except her. He starts to panic, and the room feels small and he can’t breathe.

“Styles. What’s wrong?” Aaron asks, watching Harry’s head swivel erratic like he was looking for something.

“Where’s Grace?” His words run together, tongue feeling thick in his mouth and dread forming a pit in his stomach.

“She’s probably still at the motel, I tried to call her but she didn’t answer.”

“She’s not there. The bed’s still made like she never even went in the room.” He runs a hand through his hair, heart pounding in his chest so hard he can hear it in his ears. “She’s not here and she’s not there. She’s gone. She’s missing.”

“Styles I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.” Aaron tried to assure but he can’t help but feel a little scared also. He tries to call Grace again but it goes straight to voicemail. Before he can say anything, a deputy walks up to them holding an envelope. He hands it to Harry without a word, and Harry doesn’t look twice at the person handing it to him. He snatches it, flipping it over. Agent Styles is scrawled across the front. He slides his finger through the seal to open it, finding the back of a polaroid facing outwards. The same signature of the person they’re looking for. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before flipping it over.

It’s Grace.

Tied to a chair and peering up at the person taking the photo of her. She looks physically unharmed, and seeing her in this position breaks his fucking heart. He turns it around, shoving it in Aaron’s face.

“This logical enough for you?” He sneers before throwing it at him in a fit of rage, he doesn’t stay to watch it flutter to the floor as he turns towards the door, storming out to the sidewalk.

“Fuck!” He yells over and over, slapping his hands against the brick of the building. He leans his head against the rough wall, feeling angry and scared tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

And the only thing running through his brain is that he should’ve told her he loved her, too.

——

After a brief walk around the block to calm his brain, he walks back into the station where the energy is buzzing and nervous. He doesn’t know where to even start, like his mind has short circuited and all the knowledge he possesses about being an agent is just gone. Lost. He sees her photo up on the board labeled “missing” underneath and he almost crumbles then. He didn’t want her to be chalked up as just another person. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that the rest of the team wouldn’t allow it to be that way, he was just so fucking nervous. He spots Aaron leaned over the table looking at a map of the area and he makes a beeline for him, dodging around busy bodies in the room.

“Aaron, we have to find her. We have to.” His voice is shaky and he feels like a small puppy standing under its owner at the gaze of his boss. Aaron’s expression softens and he gives Harry an apologetic look.

“We will, Harry.” Harry nods. “I need your head clear. Are you able to work the case? If you’re not, I need you to stand down. I need your word.”

“Yes. My head is clear. I just want her back.” He nods, his voice sounding so small in the chatter around them. Aaron gives him a knowing look, nodding once back to him.

“She told me yesterday she was going to the Jefferson house. She wanted to see if they missed anything after the scene got cleaned up. She thought something was missing from the case.” He pauses, looking at Harry who’s staring blankly at the map in front of them. “I sent Jenna and Kelly to the house while you were out. They should be arriving any moment now.”

The waiting was the worst part.

Finally, the phone rang and they confirmed that the Jefferson house is where Grace was last seen. The car she took was left in the driveway unlocked with her phone on the driver's seat, along with her badge and gun. They couldn’t track her, and whoever it was knew that was the first thing they would try to do.

Back to square one.

——

Grace doesn’t know how long she’s been down here. Her mouth is still dry from whatever drug was injected into her and she could feel the numbness tingling in her fingertips from the position of her arms. The rope had rubbed her wrists raw and if she shifted it stung, making her wince in pain. She knows the man who took her is obviously wanting her to die of “natural” causes, or else he would’ve fed her something by now.

She thinks about the team. Have they figured out she’s been taken and not just disappeared on her own accord? She’s had time to sit with her thoughts, thoughts of Harry fill her mind. Will she see him again? Before long she’ll be dehydrated. She hasn’t had anything to drink, and all he’s done is take a picture of her and leave. He hasn’t been down here again. Even then he didn’t say anything. She’s pretty sure he just wants to leave her here to rot.

She tries to think of how to get herself out. She thinks of the face she saw and what features she could make out in the low lighting and she feels like it almost looks familiar to her. The eyes peeking under the black Stetson play over and over in her head, and then she hears the door opening again for the first time since he took the photo of her. She hears his footsteps moving closer to her. No Stetson, in uniform. And when he steps in front of her, she knows then.

“It’s you.” She sneers.

——

At the station, they all read over every single thread of evidence they have, but nothing is standing out. Grace always knew what to look for, able to connect the dots faster than any of them. Kelly had fallen asleep at the desk she had made a home in, refusing to leave until something had stuck out to her. Aaron was still staring at the map, and Harry was pacing, file in hand. Grace had said it felt like they were missing something before she left and he was determined to figure it out. It was her life on the line now.

He was reading a sentence when it stuck out to him.

The woman was never physically harmed, and the man was stabbed multiple times after being tortured, cuts on his back like he was beaten with a belt. Both had a polaroid picture on their back when they died, the man left in his home with one and the woman whose body was dumped across state lines had one too. They knew this, they thought it was some kind of twisted signature.

They didn’t account for both of them having a finger cut off.

Which makes this case very similar to one they worked in Arkansas a few years ago, but they never caught the guy. They profiled the man to have been missing a finger himself, the product of very traumatic abuse in childhood. They found both parents dead, his father with belt marks on his back and beaten and stabbed. The mom was left physically unharmed.

And they found his sister tied to a chair in the basement, body still warm. Harry had pulled her restraints off and performed life saving measures. They got her back, her heart had stopped just before they found her. Once she was well in the hospital they questioned her. She told them it was her brother Jack Henderson, and they searched everywhere for him. It seemed as though he had gone on the lam, probably crossing the border and the case had been left open until they did. He was on the most wanted list.

And he had been here.

In this station.

“Aaron. It’s Jack Henderson.” Harry says without looking up, staring at the file with wide eyes. Aaron looks at him quizzically. “We just thought this guy took the fingers as souvenirs and left the polaroids as some twisted game, right? It’s him. Same MO, brutally murdered the male, female was essentially physically unharmed. Didn’t we take a polaroid from his house as evidence? We found a bunch of pictures of his tortured father, and one of his sister strapped to that chair in their basement. He’s doing this to get our attention. Trying to prove that he will get away a second time.”

“He didn’t cut off the same fingers as his though? How can you be sure?”

“He’s the one who handed me the envelope with Grace’s picture. It didn’t stick out to me until I read that the woman’s first finger had been cut off and had disappeared. He’s trying to lead us off his trail because he’s not doing it exactly the same, he’s doing just enough to get our attention.” He pauses. “When the deputy brought me the envelope, it was addressed as Agent Styles. Not Mr., not Harry. Agent. No one in this town that we’ve talked to has addressed me as agent, how would the unsub know my name unless he already knew me.” Aaron nods, taking in his theory and thinking that this is the closest thing they have to making sense.

“Aaron. He’s doing this to get back at me, for saving his sister. His sister is in WITSEC. He can’t find her to finish the job…he’s going to take Grace from me.” His voice broke on the last part, and he almost fell to the floor, his knees growing weak. He knows how long a person can last without food or water, her organs will start to shut down after three days, that’s the average. It’s been almost that.

They waste no time pulling up the file on Jack Henderson. The show his picture to every deputy before someone recognizes him. He goes by an alias, Greg Price and he doesn’t look like the same guy he used to. The only reason one had recognized him was because he had seen an old picture in Greg’s house of him and his mother. No one batted an eye when he walked in the building dressed as a deputy because they were all paying attention to their own things, and the profilers expected this to be the last place he would’ve been.

Jack was new(ish) to town. In a village of not even 600 people, people who’d grown and lived their entire lives here, he’d never not be the new guy. He showed up with a moving truck and bought a house just outside of town. He’d faked his identity, his qualifications, and ended up being hired as a deputy not long after he moved here. They’d had his address, jumping into vehicles as the sheriff escorted them down the winding roads with lights and sirens.

They whipped into the yard, Harry not wasting any time by throwing the door open and jumping out before the car was even shifted into park. He draws his weapon, kicking open the door left cracked. The house is eerily quiet as he moves through the rooms, taking the role of point and clearing them with Aaron following his direction. They come to a door that’s locked with a chain lock and deadbolt.

Harry quickly turns the lock, undoing the chain and hesitantly makes his way down the stairs. He looks right, then left and there she is. Grace. All thoughts clear his brain besides any that have to do with her. He runs the short distance, dropping to his knees and taking her face between his hands, lifting her head as it lulls to the side.

“Grace. Wake up, baby.” He lightly taps her cheek and her eyes flutter behind her closed lids. He reaches behind her, untying the knot keeping her hands bound and they fall to her side. She’s weak, having passed out a short time before they got there. He checks her pulse, slow but steady enough to not cause concern and he blows out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

He unties her legs with one hand, taking her and carrying her up the stairs and to the medic on the scene. He stays with her as they hook her to an IV, poking her several times before they are able to find a vein not affected by the dehydration. They informed him where they were taking her but he insisted on riding with her, wanting to be there if she woke up and didn’t know where she was. He holds her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles and willing her to open her eyes and just look at him so he could talk to her. He runs his fingers over the angry red marks left on her wrists and he curses himself for not being there sooner.

Things pass in a blur after that, the adrenaline of the past few wearing off and exhaustion taking over his body. He stays with her until they clear her to leave, and she doesn’t talk. Doesn’t say a word, not for a few hours at least.

“I’m sorry.” He hears her whisper finally, looking out the window. “I should’ve taken someone with me.”

“It’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” He reassures her, and she nods once, and that’s all she says.

The morning hours creep into the sky, Aaron comes to get them, taking them back to the motel. Harry walks Grace to her room, unlocking and opening the door for her.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks, brushing her hair behind her ear and she shakes her head as she leans into his touch. He wanted to say the words, seeing the sadness and pain in her eyes all he wanted to do was say them. He swallows them down.

“No. I’ll be okay. I just need a shower, and sleep. Still tired.” He nods, hesitating to leave her, not wanting to take his eyes off her ever again. But he lets her be alone, trudging back to his own room and collapsing into the bed.

She sits in the shower after scrubbing her entire body raw, hugging her knees to her chest and letting the water run over her until it’s freezing and she’s shivering and she forced herself to get up. She dresses, going to the bed and pulling the covers up to her chin, daylight filtering through the window.

She doesn’t sleep.

——

Later that night, when they’re back in D.C, Harry takes her hand and leads her into her apartment. It’s the first time he’s been here and it’s just so…her. She hasn’t said much, and he doesn’t expect her to. Her mind is still reeling from the traumatic events of the past few days.

“Do you want to eat or anything?” He asks, his voice quiet and timid. She shakes her head, having no appetite. She swore to Aaron on the jet that she would never step foot in the state of Oklahoma ever again, and he told her she wouldn’t have to. He would make sure of it. They ended up finding Jack heading West out of the state, likely back towards Mexico. She’s not looking forward to the trial she’ll inevitably have to sit through and recount the experience.

“Okay.” He nods, looking around, shoving his hands in his pockets as he faces her. One arm crossed over her chest and she looks at the floor, tears brimming her lashline and she tried to blink them away, feeling like her emotions are a rollercoaster she can’t get off of.

“Just wanna go to bed, I think.” She mumbles. He nods, moving to walk around her and leave but she stops him.

“Wait.” She grabs his arm, looking up at him with pain in her eyes and he almost crumbles right then. “Don’t go. Please. I don’t want to be alone right now. Will you stay?” And he would, a million times over just for her. He’d do anything for her.

“Yes, baby. Of course. Just didn’t know if you’d want me here.”

“Always want you with me.” She looks towards the floor again, her voice sounding so small and he moves closer, placing his hands on either side of her face and forcing her to look up at him.

“I know, sweet girl. Always want you with me, too. Never gonna let you out of my sight again, okay?” He looks at her, his eyes flitting between hers and she nods, her bottom lip quivering as he pulls her into his chest and wraps his arms around her. She fists his shirt and he kisses the top of her head ever so gently, the sweet smell of her hair filling his senses and she’s all he knows. All he ever wants to know. “Let’s go to bed.”

She leads him down the small hallway to her room, but he leads her to her bed and makes her sit on the edge. He goes into her closet and picks out something for her to wear to bed, something comfortable and he kneels in front of her, untying the laces of her boots and pulling them off of her. Taking her hands in his, he brings her wrists to his mouth and kisses over the marks left on them, gently so as to not irritate them further. He runs his hands from her calves up to her thighs, flicking the button undone and she shifts her hips as he pulls the denim from her legs. Leaning in, he peppers small kisses right above her knees and savors the feeling of her skin against his lips. She watches him below her, a heat swirling just below her navel and she forces her mind away from those thoughts. He reaches up, lifting the hem of her shirt as she raises her arms, discarding the t-shirt on the floor with her jeans. He swallows when he notices her chest is bare, her nipples hardening when the cool air hits her skin and she sucks in a breath. His hands run up her thighs and grip her hips, pulling her body closer to him. Grace tangles her hands in his hair at the nape of his neck like she knows he likes,dipping down and brushing her nose against his. He smiles, looking over her features with admiration in his eyes. Her freckles spanning over her cheeks, the pink of her lips that he loves to kiss, her eyes so blue he could swim in them. She nudges him again, finally touching her lips to his.

He kisses her gently, not wanting to lead her into anything she might not want to do. She pushes her lips against his, and he sucks in a breath through his nose as she arches her back. Her chest presses against him and his hands sprawl across her back, holding her as close as he can get her. He sighs against her lips, moving to crawl over top of her and slotting his knee between her thighs without breaking their kiss. She lays back, his arms caging around her head as his muscles flex and extend to bear his weight. Their tongues dance together now, and she whines into his mouth causing him to pull away just enough to look at her.

“Grace.” He says her name breathlessly, his brows furrowing together slightly. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. Just got you back. We don’t have to do this.” She shakes her head, her chin jutting upwards and pushing her body into his again.

“You won’t. Promise. Just need you. Missed you so much, Harry.” She whispers, but she can still see the uncertainty in his eyes. “Please. Help me forget, just want to forget about it for a while.” Her voice wavers slightly and he nods once. She grinds against his leg and her eyes flutter closed as a jolt of pleasure runs down her spine, and how can he resist when she just looks so pretty underneath him like this? He shifts his weight to one arm, his fingers dancing down her skin so delicately. He feels the way her stomach flexes under his fingertips, sensitive and wanting to push against him more. He grips her hip, fingertips dimpling the skin underneath and she wraps her legs around his waist. He grinds against her, creating friction between them as she moans into his mouth.

“Fuck, Grace. You get me so worked up. Wanna fuck you, but just wanna take care of you.”

“Please, Har. Please. Fuck me.” She begs and he smirks at her eagerness, dropping his head to her shoulder and sinking his teeth into the skin of her collarbone. Her hips rut against him and she cries out, the sensation taking her off guard before he soothes with his tongue and kisses so gently. He pushes himself up onto his knees, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Grace watches him through hazy eyes and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“So pretty.” He mumbles from above her, pulling the belt from the loops and she wants to squeeze her thighs together but his body between them blocks her from doing so. He pushes the both his jeans and briefs down in one go, kicking them from his legs as he wraps his own hand around the base of his hard cock and tugging a few times before he leans back over her. She can feel the tip of him nudging at her hole through the material of her underwear and she reaches between their bodies. She wraps her own hand around him, his head dropping to her chest and he swears under his breath.

“Please.” She whines, begging him for anything he’ll give her. Truthfully, he’s just so caught up in having her back that he wants to just savor the moment, take his time with her. Something he doesn't get to do often. He moves the material of her underwear to the side, dragging a finger through her arousal and collecting it there. He brings it up, taking it into his mouth and wrapping his lips around it, tasting her.

“Taste so sweet, bunny. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He whispers in her ear and she swears she can feel herself melting into the mattress. Unable to wait any longer, he pushes her panties down her thighs and she kicks them off. Harry drags the tip of his cock through her folds once before pushing against her weepy hole. He’s so used to just pounding into her, and he likes the change of pace. Likes watching her squirm while she waits, trying to buck into him and get more of him inside her.

“Let me go slow, Grace. Just got you back. Let me take my time with you.” She nods slowly and he smiles down at her. “That’s my girl.” He feels her clenching around almost nothing and he throws his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he pushes ever so slowly into her. So tight he’s seeing stars. Her jaw goes slack and all she can do is take it, insatiable for the feeling of him stretching her and filling her.

“So fucking tight, bunny. Gonna squeeze the life out of me.” He grumbles. He grabs her hips again, squeezing and he lifts her so slightly to adjust the angle. He pushes all the way in, dropping his gaze and watching the way he disappears inside her. He could almost cum right then.

“Fuck, barely fits doesn’t it? Taking me so fucking good, sweet girl. Look at you.” He croons, his words pushing through the pleasure buzzing around her brain and she wiggles her hips, bucking up into him before he forces them back down. He pulls out at a torturous pace, her arousal coating him and sending his brain haywire.

“Kiss me.” She breathes out, and he does. He pushes back into her, leaning over her and forcefully pressing his lips to hers. They’re a mix of pants and moans as he sets his pace, comfortable and slow, allowing her to feel every inch of him. The stretch feels like a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, and every time his hips meet hers she can feel him so fucking deep inside her she could cry. “So deep Har, feels so fucking good.” Her back arches off the bed and he kisses the valley between her breasts as she fists the sheets beneath them.

“Yeah? Feel me all the way in your belly?” He feels a haze settling over his mind and he takes her hand, bringing it between their bodies and resting her palm just below her navel with his hand over hers. He presses her hand down slightly, and as he drives into her again and again she feels tears brimming her lash line at the sensation, a smirk painted on his face. “Feel that? Know you do. Only I can do this, right bunny? I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.” He mumbles into her ear and she nods wordlessly, unable to form a coherent sentence. “There you go, baby. Feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“More.” She gasps and he obliges, picking up his pace slightly and he hits just the right spot every time. She knows it’s coming, dangling by fingertips on the edge of that blissful feeling as she feels the spool begin to unravel.

“Gonna get you all full of me, sweet girl. Let me give you my babies, yeah? Give you everything, be such a good mama.” He grits out through his teeth clenched together and she feels dizzy, his words penetrating a spot in her brain she didn’t know existed until him.

“Fuck, Harry.” She whines and he smiles against the curve of her neck, knowing she loves when he talks to her like this.

“Yeah? Like the thought of that? Look so fucking cute with your belly all swollen ‘cause of me. Know you would.” He mumbles and he’s picturing it, picturing it all in his brain and trying to hold onto his release as long as he can. His hips rock into her and she’s still got her hand on her belly and he dips down, attaching his lips around one of her hardened peaks on her breast and her body jolts, her pussy squeezing around him. He knows she’s close. He rolls her nipple between his teeth, flicking with his tongue and he feels her fluttering around him.

“Please Har. Need it so bad. Please cum in me, please.” Her words are jumbled and falling from her lips with ease.

“Never wanna be without you, sweet girl. Love you so fucking much.” He’s a mess of moans and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, determined to never let her question his intentions ever again, and it sends her over, eyes squeezing together so tightly she sees stars. The thread unravels and she throws her arms around his neck, holding him close to her. Her legs wrap around his hips and he thrusts into her one more time before he’s filling her to the hilt, spilling his warmth into her. And it’s so warm, making her head feel fuzzy.

They lay there, legs still wrapped around his hips, sweaty skin sticking together. He pulls back and a lazy grin spreads across her face when his eyes meet hers. She brings her hand up, poking a finger to his nose and he smiles wide at her, a sparkle dancing in his eye and just being in awe of her beauty…her flushed cheeks, her wet lashes, her swollen lips from kisses, her little baby hairs sticking to her temple with sweat. And they stay there, holding each other, saying I love you through light touches and longing gazes, without using any words.

But they don’t need to.

They just know.

taglist: @indierockgirrl @hermionelove @storyschanging @hannah9921

divider by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

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[eimids]

Tension

Leah Williamson x reader smut

Reader is questioning her sexual identity, Leah’s here to help.

warnings: Smutt, first time

Words: 3.3k

Being a 24 year old virgin is hard. Myteamates at arsenal ask me about my sex life quite often but yeah no. Still a fucking virgin.

I just think I'm atill a virgin because I've been questioning my sexual identity forever. Now i'm thinking that I'm romantically attracted to men but I couldn't imagine having sex with a man. That is just a no. But I'm more sexually attracted to females. Although I could imagine being with a female romantically. So I guess that makes me bi? Pan?

I have had mixed feelings about my teammate Leah. She's really pretty and I can't help but glance at her every now and then. There's tension between us.

Sexual tension.

I have never really had anything like this. She's been flirting with me during training and one time we shared a room and I could see her staring at me when I got out of the shower. We have known each other only for 5 months since I moved to arsenal but we are actually gotten quite close.

Today Leah asked me to go to a bar with her. I felt excited but nervous at the same time.

I was running late. When I showered I decided to shave my body just in case anything happens. I had a huge problem with my clothes. I didn't want to be too fancy but I didn't want to look like a bum. I ran outside to my cab and climbed in.

I saw Leah standing next to the bar. She was looking around to see me. I wasn't really sure if other teammates would also be here or not.

Our eyes met and she smiled at me. She waved at me and I walked to her. She was wearing a gorgeous oversized blazer.

"Hi Leah" I said and smiled. I was leaning in for a hug but then I remembered that she really doesn't like hugs.

"Hi y/n. You look gorgeous" Leah said as she checked me out.

"So do you! What are you drinking" I asked and then added "wait don't say. Just ordered me the same that you are having. I'll go to the bathroom real quick" I said and left. Leah looked a little confused.

I was so nervous that I was feeling nauseous. 'Why am I so nervous, she's just a teammate' I thought to myself. I stayed in the bathroom for a while until I was feeling calmer.

"Sorry that you had to wait" I said when I walked back to Leah.

"It's fine y/n. So here is your drink" She said and pushed a drink towards me.

"Thank you. So is this a girl's night or is it just us tonight?" I asked. Still wondering if other teammates like Beth, McCabe and Less would show up.

"Today it's just us. I want to get to know you better since you are the newbie" She said and smirked.

"Hey don't call me that" I said sounding hurt. Of course with sarcasm.

"You are the newbie tho" She teased.

"Fine. But you said you wanted to get to know me. What do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Nothing special. Just want to get to know you. Like where did you grow up, why you decided to join Arsenal and do you have a boyfriend?" She said. I was little taken back by the boyfriend question.

"I grew up in Sweden and England. I moved a lot when I was younger, I wanted to join arsenal so I could get better at the best club. I do not have a boyfriend. Nor girlfriend" I answered her in one breath.

"Slow down y/n. We have all night to talk. Follow up question. Do you like girls?" She asked.

"Yeah I do. I've been questioning my sexuality for so long but yeah I like girls. I mean how can you not. But how about you" I answered.

"I'm lesbian" She said "and single" She added and winked. I blushed a little.

"Would you girls like to have anything else?" The bartender asked suddenly. I noticed that she was looking at me.

"I think we're good" I answered and smiled.

"Well if you need anything just let me know" She said and winked at me. She slid a card to me where was her phone number.

Leah had a weird look on her face. I couldn't figure out what it was until it hit me.

Jealousy.

Leah Wiliamson was jealous because some bartender was flirting with me. I was feeling quite special. From all girls in the world she chose me to go to a bar with.

Leah then put her hand on my knee. Her hand was going little higher as she drew some patterns to my knee. Butterflies filled my stomach again. How was this happening. A literal goddess next to me.

"Y/n I'm gonna be a little forward now" Leah said and I nodded.

"I really want you in my bed. Ever since you joined the team I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you. You are intoxicating. I have always just wanted to kiss you, to have you"

To have me.

I was really wondering if this was real. Leah fucking Wiliamsson telling me that she wants me.

"I... I want you t-too Leah" I said not so smoothly as I thought it would be.

"What about we get out of here?" Leah asked and stood up.

I nodded and she put her hand possessively on the small of my back. We walked to her car and she opened the door for me and then went to the other side of the car to get in.

The ride was full with tension. Neither of us said anything but Leah’s hand was on my upper thigh the whole ride.

I got lost in my thoughts. Suddenly the car stopped and Leah walked to my side of the car and opened the door. She helped me out from the car and we walked inside her apartment building. It was big fancy building.

Once we got to the elevator she pushed me against the wall and smashed our lips together. I kissed her back and we made out intensively in the elevator.

Once we got to the highest floor we entered Leah’s apartment. A fricking penthouse.

"Wow. This is-" i started but Leah closed the door and once again pushed me against the wall.

"Y/n I need to know that you are okay with this?" Leah said with her lips right next to my ear.

I nodded. Not getting any words out of my mouth.

"I need a verbal answer. Are you okay with this?" She asked again.

"Y..Yes Leah" I said and licked my lips.

"Good" She said and attached her lips back to mine.

We made out for a while until she moved her knee to my pussy. I don't know what she did but I let an embarrassing sound from my mouth. She chuckled at me and pulled away.

"Go to my room. I'll be there soon" She said and I started walking. Then I realized that I don't know where her room is in this huge apartment. I was turning around to ask but she said "Down the hall, the last room".

I continued walking to her room. I opened the door and then I was in the most gorgeous room that I have ever been.

I sat on the bed admiring Leah’s room. It was quite dark. There were led lights that brought some light. They were really bright white color. There was two doors on the other side of the room and the other side was just  big window.

I heard steps coming towards the room. My pulse quickened and I felt red creeping on my cheeks. Leah opened the door and walked in. She was now wearing only pants and bra and she was holding two glasses with maybe water in them.

"My god you are beautiful y/n. I can't wait to have you. You are so pretty sitting there. My good girl. You just do things to me. I can't act normal around you at prac" She started. She walked next to me and put her hand on my face and then carefully to my neck.

"Beth has been teasing me about you for months now. She has noticed that I'm different around you" She continued.

"No I'm finally having what I have wanted for months. You" She ended her sentence.

Leah wants me.

Then I began to panic a little. 'Do I need to tell Leah that I'm a virgin. What if I don't know what to do. What if Leah thinks that I'm gross down there' I thought to myself.

Leah obviously noticed me becoming tense.

"Hey what's wrong" She asked.

"Nothing. It's just I.." I started. Do I really have to tell her that I'm a virgin.

"Y/n It's okay. I want you to be comfortable today. I won't do anything you are even the slightest uncomfortable with" Leah said comforting.

"It's just that I...I'm a virgin" I said. The last part was barely a sound. It was so quiet but for my surprise Leah just smiled.

"Well that's even better. I get to be the first one to show you how good you can feel. I get to show you what your body is able to do" She said and started kissing my neck.

"Now tell me y/n, have you ever had an orgasm?" Leah asked. I flushed bright red. Even more red than I was before.

"No" I answered quietly.

"I love that. I get to be the first one to show you what an orgasm feels like. And don't be so embarrassed, it's okay y/n. Relax a little" Leah said. And kissed my lips softly.

"I think you are little too dressed for this occasion" Leah said and flipped me over. She unzipped my dress and carefully removed it from my body. She then flipped me back so I was looking at her.

"God you are beautiful y/n" She said and put her hand gently around my neck.

"Today I'm gonna make you feel things that you have never felt. I'm gonna make you come over and over again. But now you need an safe word. When you say the word I promise I will stop everything I'm doing. You can say it if something hurts or if things feel just uncomfortable. I want you to enjoy this night" Leah said.

"I don't know. What should it be?" I asked confused

"Well it can be anything. Something that you will remember" Leah answered. She was kissing my neck.

"Umm Rose? It has spikes and it's red so I associate it with danger usually. It's also my favorite flower" I answered I was starting to ramble but then I decided to try to touch Leah put she pinned my hands above my head.

"Rose it is. Whenever you say that I promise I'll stop what i'm doing. And please if anything is uncomfortable tell me. We can take things slower. But now you are being really inpatient, aren't you" Leah said and licked her lips.

"Please can I touch you Leah?" I asked.

"Not yet Princess" She answered and my heart fluttered and the nickname. Leah continued kissing me. She unclasped my bra and threw it away. She swirled her tongue around my nipple and I just moaned. I couldn't help the sound leaving my mouth.

"Mhmm don't stop Lee. It feels good" I said breathing heavily.

"You are already moaning and I have barely touched you" Leah said and sucked my nipple. The words that Leah said made me wetter than I already was.

"Lee please I need more" I asked pleading.

"I know you want more but I promise you will feel even better if we do this slowly" Leah said and then started kissing my stomach. She went lower and lower until she was at my panties.

"Is it okay if I take these off?" She asked and immediately answered yes.

She used only her mouth to take them off. She threw them somewhere and then kissed my inner thighs. I was feeling super needy and I wanted her already to fuck me already.

"Please Lee. Please just please" I begged.

"Is my girl needy. You want to know how my mouth feels on your clit and my fingers inside you?" She asked.

"Yes. I want you to fuck me. Please" I said. I was feeling so weird. Everything was too much but not enough at the same time.

"Oh god Lee” I yelled when I finally felt her mouth sucking on my clit. She swirled her tongue around it at the same time. Just that could have made me explode.

She then dipped one finger in me easily. She tested if I was wet enough and the she pushed another in me.

"God yes!!" I moaned loudly. My breathing became heavier as something started happening inside me.

Leah was going a slow pace with her first tongue. She flicked it on my clit before starting a faster pace. Her fingers slowly curling so they were touching more of my insides. Then they hit a spot that made my back arch and my body felt like it was on fire.

"Fuck Leah right there. YESS" I yelled but Leah slowed down her pace. She then stopped and straddled me again.

"Don't come until I tell you to" She said and I was about to protest and then her thigh touched my clit and I moaned.

Leah smiled as she was looking at me. She slowly started to move her body and I started to grind on her thigh. My mouth opened and moans left it.

I was so vulnerable for Leah. I just wanted to pleaseher and not come but I was so close. Leah was controlling me but in a good way.

"Please" I whined.

"Not yet y/n" She said and brought her hand to my cunt and pushed her fingers inside again.

She was going fast with her fingers and again she started flicking my clit. Then she curled her fingers against the same spot that already made my back arch.

"Leah, I-I need t..to come" I was shaking under her. The feeling was so strong.

"Now. Do it. Come for me Princess" Leah said and I let the most ungodly sound. I felt like my body was on fire as it shook. Leah’s fingers were still moving inside of me. I tried to control the shocks going through my body but all I could do was moan.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.." I moaned as the white continued to cover my vision.

I cried out nonsense. My body was trembling with the overwhelming feeling. My pyssy was stretching and tightening around Leah’s fingers with every thrust.

Slowly I felt every movement stop. I could only hear Leah’s breathing and my own. My body felt numb but in the best way possible.

"Wow, that was... that was wow" I mumbled while panting.

Leah laughed a little. My body was still shaking.

"You were so good my princess. I know I keep telling you this but you are so incredibly beautiful. Especially when you come" Leah said and kiss my lips. It was more sensual, more gentle.

"Can- can I do that again?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah you can. I can make you come many more times but I bet you are really sensitive right now" She said and swiped my clit gently. I buckled my hips. My clit in fact was sensitive.

"But i wanna feel that again" I said pouting.

"Hmm I have an idea but I wanna know that you are 100% comfortable with it" Leah said and I nodded. Curious what she had in mind.

"I have a strap in that closet. Do you know what it is?" Leah asked and I nodded.

"What if we use that?" Leah suggested and once again I nodded.

"Princess give me a verbal answer" Leah said softly.

"Yes Lee, I want that" I needed something so badly I could have cried.

She then stood up and walked to the closet. She finally took her pants off and put the harnest on. She then walked back to me and layed next to me. She flipped me so I was on top of her next to the fake penis.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked

"100%. I promise" I answered.

"Good girl" Leah said and the praise made my heart beat faster. She grabbed lube from her nightstand and put it on the strap. It was now nice and slippery.

"Okay princess, Whenever you are ready" Leah said and put her hands in my hips.

I got on top of the strap and slowly started going down. Leah’s strong hands were supporting me as I slide down the dick. It was stretching me perfectly.

When it was fully in me tears started to form in my eyes because of the pleasure. I waited for a while to be comfortable and then I moved up slightly and then back down.

"Fuck. Lee, I feel so full. You are making me feel so full" I moaned.

"You are doing so good baby" Leah said and I moved my body against the dick. It hit so many good spots. She started to lift me slowly up and down on the strap.

I felt tears coming down from my eyes as I was slowly bouncing on the strap. Leah was praising me but I really couldn't hear them because I was so focused on chasing my orgasm.

I started to bounce faster and faster on the strap. Leah looked surprised at my pace.

"I- I-I'm gonna cum" I said and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

I kept bouncing on the strap and I brought my hand to rub my clit. Everything was perfect. Everything felt so good but little overwhelming.

Then it happened again. My body started to shake uncontrollably and I felt like million little shocks were going trough my body. I came hard on the strap. I could feel liquid come out of me.

Leah’s hands supported me as I really couldn't control my body.

"Rose. Rose" I quickly said when everything was too much. Tears in my eyes.

Leah immediately flipped us over and took the strap out of me. My body still shook a little because it was still climaxing.

"You are okay princess" Leah said and took the harness off. She then took a blanket and covered our bodies with it. She wrapped her arms around me as I came from my high.

"Are you okay?" She asked?

"Yeah. It was just little too much but wow it felt good" I said and laughed.

"Thank you for telling me that it was enough. And I'm glad you enjoyed it" She said and smiled. I smiled back at her and quickly fell asleep on her arms.

"Wake up. We are here" I heard. I opened my eyes and I was in a car. The car was parked in front of a bar. I was in a cab. 'What is going on?' I thought until I realized.

It was all a dream.

——

This is actually a fic i have written some time ago but i decided to post it here.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #leah williamson #arsenal #wlw post

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for visiting a restaurant after it changed ownership?

I (young adult, genders irrelevant for everyone in this story) have been living in the same neighborhood for most of my life, and I usually cook my own dinner. However, because my dad left the family when I was young, and my mom made me move out as soon as I was an adult, I wasn't completely prepared to live on my own, so I don't have a consistent source of income. I've had to move between apartments in the same neighborhood a lot, and sometimes when I'm in the process of moving it's really hard to cook my own dinner. The neighborhood is pretty isolated, so there aren't really many other places to get food, so I've mostly been hungry during those moving periods.

However, a few months ago, my friend R told me L, one of our neighbors I hadn't talked to before, was starting a restaurant business. She'd apparently started out by making food for her two children, S and O, who I'd seen around the neighborhood a few times and was vaguely familiar with, but realized her food was good and opened it up to the rest of the neighborhood for a low price. Of course, I was super excited to get to try someone else's cooking for the first time since I'd moved out, so R and I started visiting L's restaurant every now and then when I was moving or otherwise unable to cook. It's her secondary job, so she wasn't always there, but S and O also worked there and were friendly to us.

I thought it was a good arrangement... until I visited one day recently to find the door closed at a time when it's usually open. I would have just gone home, but it had been really rainy lately, I was under a lot of stress, and I didn't feel up to getting food for myself in those conditions, so I stood around for a few minutes, waiting to see if S or O would come out and explain. Instead, some people I've never seen before came into the lobby of the restaurant and just stared at me from inside. Instead of explaining anything to me or letting me in, they just laughed at me and took pictures of me? I was already really upset and that just made it unbearable to be around other people, so I left. I went back a few days later to double check if it was open, because I was still hungry, but the new people were still there, and I left even more quickly this time. I'm not proud of that- maybe I could have talked to the new people if I'd stayed longer instead of embarrassing myself, but I also feel like they were being really rude.

I asked R about it later to see if they'd talked to S or O lately or knew anything about what I assumed was change in ownership, but R didn't help at all. They told me that they hadn't seen S or O, but I shouldn't have expected the restaurant to stay open forever and that it was stupid of me to go back on the second day. I guess I can see how I might have been an asshole to go back, but I don't know what R meant about the restaurant. Is it because it's not L's main job? Were we the only customers and not giving her enough income to continue it for anyone but her kids? Or was the restaurant like... a front for money laundering or something? I really don't know. I'm hurt, hungry, and so confused. Was I in the wrong for bothering the new humans? Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #joke aita

[togrowoldinv]

All That Matters

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Natasha and her daughter have a disagreement, but there’s nothing they can’t work out.

Note: A little mama Nat angst, but I promise it doesn’t end sad! Enjoy this one!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

When Natasha gets home from picking the kids up from school, you know something is off.

Your son shuffles in with an apologetic smile and his little sister on his hip. Your oldest daughter soon follows with not so much as a tiny glance at you as she walks up the stairs.

Natasha enters the house last and shuts the door a little too loudly.

“Everything okay, babe?” You ask her.

“No,” she replies quickly.

You stand up from your chair and walk towards your wife. You can see the weight she carries on her shoulders. Wrapping her in a hug, you don’t feel her hugging back.

That’s never a good sign.

“What happened?” You ask.

Natasha sighs. You let go of her and pull back to look into her eyes.

“Can we just talk later?” Nat asks. Her voice is distant. It breaks your heart.

“Yes, of course, baby. Go for a run or do whatever you need to feel better,” you say.

With that, Nat disappears into the bedroom. You get back to work for another hour or so before you start dinner.

You don’t see Natasha again even once you call everyone for dinner. As you suspected, you check her location and she’s not in the house.

“Where’s Mama?” Your young, innocent daughter asks.

“She had to go into work,” you lie. “We’ll save her some dinner.”

“Does she even like spaghetti?” Your son asks.

“Everyone likes spaghetti,” you reply, causing him to chuckle.

Your oldest daughter remains emotionless at the conversation. She won’t look you in the eye.

“Ali, how was your day today?” You try to get her to speak.

“Fine,” comes her quick reply. She doesn’t look at you, but instead stares down at her plate.

“Can you look at me when I speak to you?” You ask her.

She lifts her eyes up and you see they’re full of tears. You stand up and move next to her.

“Ali,” you say softly. “What’s wrong?”

She stands abruptly and storms out of the kitchen. You hear her door shut upstairs.

“Alright, Ivan, I need you to tell me what happened with Ali and Mama,” you say to your son.

“I don’t know much, but when I got in the car Ali and Mama were arguing about something,” Ivan explains. “It ended with then both saying some hurtful things about each other.”

“Okay,” you say. Not that helpful but a little more information. “Thank you.”

You finish dinner and get Belle tucked into bed. Ivan promises not to stay up too late playing video games, so you leave him be.

You contemplate knocking on Ali’s door but you really want to talk to Natasha first. She’s still not home, so you call her phone.

“Hey,” she answers.

“Hey Natasha. Where are you? Are you coming home?” You ask her.

“I don’t know,” she says.

“What?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t come home,” Nat says.

“Why would you not come home?” You ask.

During the time it takes her to respond, you get on your laptop and track down her phone. She’s at the avenger’s compound.

“You’re better off without me,” Nat says. “The kids are.”

“Hey, you know that’s not true. Natasha, please-“

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Natasha interrupts. She hangs up the phone.

You have to go talk to her. So, you gather your things and tell Ivan he’s in charge. Belle should stay asleep and Ali hasn’t left her room still.

On the drive to the compound, you think about all of things Natasha and Ali could’ve said to each other. You pull into the drive quickly and rush inside.

Clint is standing outside of the training room door when you arrive. He won’t let you in.

“I know she’s in there, Barton. I need to talk to her,” you say.

“She’s not okay right now, y/n,” Clint says.

“I know. That’s why I need to see her. Now are you going to make me tackle you or will you get out of my way?”

The tone of your voice makes Clint step back. You enter the training room and find Natasha at the punching bags.

“Natasha,” you say to get her attention. “We have to talk.”

“No we don’t,” she says, hitting the bag between every word.

“Can you please tell me what happened? Ali stormed upstairs during dinner in tears. Ivan said you and Ali were fighting,” you say. “What about?”

Natasha stops punching the bag and looks at you. Her resolve breaks and she falls to her knees. You watch as she sobs, finally letting herself feel the hurt.

You give her a moment, knowing she doesn’t like to be held immediately when she’s upset. She’s always had to self soothe, but she slowly lets you in. Lets you help.

Nat reaches her hand out for you and you take it in yours. You kneel on the ground in front of her to get on her level. You brush a loose strand from her braid behind her ear and softly rub your thumb over her cheek.

“I’m here,” you say.

“She knows everything,” Natasha says.

“What do you mean by everything?”

“Some kids at school find out about my history,” Nat says. “Not my avenging, but my not so great history. And I guess they confronted Ali about it. She was blindsided.”

“Nat, hey it’s okay. You know you didn’t have a choice,” you remind her. “None of that was your decision.”

“She doesn’t see it that way. And even if she did, I still did all of those things. So now her classmates get to talk shit about it,” Nat vents.

“We’ll stop them.”

“What’s the use?” Nat asks. “They already know. Who did I think I was thinking that I could get away from my past?”

You shake your head at that.

“No, Natasha. You don’t need to do this. Don’t blame yourself for the fact that these kids were mean to Ali,” you say. “What did she say to you?”

Natasha takes a moment to collect herself. It hurts to remember.

“She said I was a liar and a fraud,” Nat says. You gasp and Nat nods. It’s true. “And I tried to explain to her that we chose not to tell her for her own good, but she wouldn’t listen. Maybe it wasn’t the right choice.”

“I’m so sorry, Natasha. I really thought we made the right decision,” you say.

“I did too.”

You let silence linger for a moment. You knew that the kids finding out about her assassin past was always a fear of Natasha’s. It’s a nightmare coming true for her.

“Ivan said you both said hurtful things at the end of the argument,” you recall. “Does that have to do with why you’re here upset and she’s at home upset?”

Nat nods. You see regret flash through her eyes.

“She said that I’m not her real mom,” Natasha says.

“What?” You ask in shock. “Natasha, you’re her mom.”

“Not according to her,” she says. “You’re her mom, but I’m just an asshole who’s been lying to her her whole life.”

“God, Nat. I don’t know what to say. But you know that’s not true.”

“The asshole part might be true,” Nat says. “Because I told her that if she was so dead set on me not being her mother then I would leave.”

“Nat,” you scold her. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” She asks. There’s a hint of sarcasm to her voice. “You’re better off without a fucking assassin getting in the way of things.”

“You’re not an assassin anymore. You never were,” you say.

“I was.”

“You weren’t.”

“Yeah I-“

“Natasha! Stop it! You were forced to do a lot of things you didn’t want to do. But you were never an assassin. It was just your job. And now, you’re a hero. You’ve saved countless more lives than you’ve ever taken,” you say. “Do you hear me, Natasha Romanoff? Don’t you dare reduce yourself to being someone that you never even were.”

Natasha nods. You’re both overcome with emotion and cry together. She lets you hold her this time. You don’t let her go.

“We need to get home to the kids,” you say.

“Okay,” Nat agrees.

You drive back to the house in your car, opting to leave Nat’s motorcycle at the compound.

The house is quiet when you get home. Nat goes toward the bedroom but you grab her hand before she can get too far away.

“Go talk to her,” you say. Nat pouts. “You won’t sleep until you do.”

“Why must you always be right?” She asks.

“It’s a gift,” you joke. “Let me know if you need me.”

Natasha nods and kisses your lips softly. She takes a deep breath and goes upstairs. She knocks on Ali’s door and opens it when she hears permission given.

“Hey Ali,” Nat says.

She walks in and sits on the edge of her bed. The teenage girl rests against her headboard.

“You know sometimes I imagine what it would have been like to be a normal teenager,” Natasha says. Ali’s attention is piqued. “To go to high school, have some friends, run around town, and get into trouble with boys or girls.”

Nat turns her head to look at Ali. The girl is hanging onto her words even though she’s upset about what happened.

“And you get to do that. We wanted you to get to do that,” Nat continues. “And I know that got fucked up today. I’m truly sorry. But you have to understand that I only- we only- keep that from you to protect you.”

Ali speaks now, “I understand that, Mama. But you don’t know how shitty was to find out about my mom’s assassin past in class in front of all of my friends.”

“No, I don’t know,” Nat says. “Tell me how shitty it was.”

“I just wanted to cry,” Ali explains. “And I was angry, so I hurt you.”

“Yeah, you did hurt me. And I hurt you.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Me either, malyshka,” Nat says.

Ali’s eyes fill with tears at the heaviness of the conversation. She never wanted to truly hurt her mother. She loves her more than anyone in the world, even you you’re pretty sure.

Nat doesn’t say anything but she shifts to sit next to Ali against the headboard. The teenager immediately falls into her mama’s arms. They both cry.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Natasha says, rubbing her back softly as Ali cries in her arms.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry,” Ali chokes out through her tears. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Nat continues to hold her daughter until her tears have subsided. Ali keeps her head on Natasha’s shoulder even then.

“So, I’m sure you have some questions,” Natasha says.

“For right now, I just want to sit with you,” Ali replies.

“Okay. I can do that. But if you ever want to know anything, I’ll tell you,” Nat says. “I don’t ever want you to be blindsided again.”

“Thank you, Mama. You’re the best,” Ali says.

You come upstairs at just the right moment to hear those words. So you step into the room.

“I knew you liked her best,” you joke and the girls laugh.

“I love you too, Mom. You’re also the best,” Ali says.

“Yay,” you say as you walk further into the bedroom.

“Everything okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, we’re good babe,” Nat says. “We’re just sitting together now if you want to join.”

You walk around the bed and sit on Ali’s other side. She takes your hand in hers. You kiss her forehead.

“I’m sorry for storming off earlier, Mom.”

“That’s alright, sweetie. You had some big feelings going on,” you say. “I love you. Both of you.”

“We love you too, Mom,” Natasha says. You chuckle.

It always makes you laugh when she calls you mom. It’s a habit from teaching your kids what to call you.

“And we love you, Mama,” you reply.

The three of you sit together and just enjoy each other’s company. One day Ali will ask for more information about Natasha’s past, but for now she’ll trust in what she knows about her mama.

She loves her and she takes care of her. Nothing else matters.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

[outsideratheart]

Lucy bronze one where r doesn’t wanna her up for training some fluff. Thanks

I just want to take care of you (Lucy Bronze x reader)

Lucy had promised you she was fine and she said her knee was fine. This was a lie because 4 days after the Chelsea game your girlfriend was in the hospital having surgery.

Before now you trusted her explicitly and for the most part you still do. When it comes to her injury though, you didn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth. You attended every physio appointment and made notes of her progress. You knew what her road to recovery would entail and you knew when she would hopefully get the greenlight.

“Can I join you on your run?” Lucy was moping around the kitchen as you got ready.

“No Lucy, you can’t. You’re on track and I won’t be the reason that changes. I’m meeting Alexia afterwards so I’ll meet you at the training ground” you place a quick kiss on her cheek.

She hated lying to you about her pain and discomfort but she wanted to be the strong powerful person she knew you loved. The reason for the dishonesty was fear and she knew it.

You and Alexia were running a little bit late to training. By the time you get to the pitch, the whole team is already out there. The whole team including Lucy and Frido.

“Love, I know you miss it but you can’t be here. You haven’t been cleared yet”

“I have” Lucy was telling the truth.

“No you haven’t. You aren’t due for clearance until next month”

Lucy grabbed your hand and walked you over to where the physios were speaking to Jona.

“I told you she wouldn’t believe me. Please tell her”

The physios go on to explain how Lucy passed all her tests this morning and that they have cleared her for team training. When you question it they promised that they would keep an eye on her and monitor every move she made.

Training is normally your happy place but not today, today you were filled with worry. You were trying to focus on your own performance but your mind kept straying to Lucy and how she was playing. It was during one counter attack that things got intense. Mapi did a clean tackle and got the ball. Any other day you would praise her but with the speed Lucy was running down the wing, Mapi’s tackle sent her flying.

“Lucy!” You are by her side in seconds “medics!” You begin to panic but Lucy brushes the grass off her knees and stands up as if nothing happened.

“I’m fine, im fine”

There was that word again. Fine. She said that one before.

“Get checked out. If they say you are fine then you can continue”

“Y/N”

“Captains orders!” You snap. It wasn’t a malicious snap but one of concern.

Lucy does in fact get cleared but your head is all over the place so you sit out and watch the team strategically.

Very little is said on the way home and that doesn’t change once you are in your shared apartment.

“Here. Ice it. I’m going for a shower”

“No” Lucy takes the ice off you before pulling you over to the sofa “we are going to talk about what happened today”.

You let out a huff of frustration. You really didn’t want to talk about it, not while you were this worked up. You placed Lucy’s leg on the foot rest and make sure her knee was iced before you started talking.

“You got cleared ahead of schedule. You went down and I panicked. There, end of story”

“There’s more to it than that. You’ve seen me injured before, this time is different”

“Yes, it’s different. Last time you were honest with me. You told me when it got bad and we dealt with it together. This time you lied. You told me you were fine and then you were in the hospital again”

Seeing your girlfriend laying in a hospital bed was never a welcomed sight but this time things felt weird between the two of you.

“It was a small surgery. I didn’t want to worry you”

“Right because look how great that turned out”

“I’ll admit I could have handled it better but I didn’t want you to see me weak”

“Weak? Lucy you are one of the strongest people I know”

“But I wasn’t a few weeks ago. I was hurting and I thought the way for you to still see me as strong was to lie to you” Lucy tried to explain how her mind worked and her reasoning for withholding the truth.

“Let’s get one thing straight. Lying to me is never the answer”

“But—“

“No buts. I don’t like not trusting what you say Lucy. This” you run your hand over her knee and gently stroke her scar “is important and I want you to be honest with me about it. Please please be honest with me Lucy”

“From this moment on I will always tell you the truth, no matter what. Pinky promise” you hold her pinky finger out and waits for you to accept it.

You look at her as if weighing out your options. When you see the look of panic of Lucy’s face you know you’ve waited long enough. You hook your pinkies.

“Now, you said something about a shower” your girlfriend raises her eyebrows playfully.

“How about a bath instead” you suggest.

“Even better”

#woso x reader #Lucy Bronze x reader

[marishoodie7]

Hey! Don’t know if requesting is open but could i request a smut with Ethan Landry where the reader is super innocent and Ethan is her best friend. The reader accidentally slips how she is attracted to ghost face during one of their late night phone calls. Ethan is ghostface in this still btw. Then he calls her as ghostface one night and does a guided masturbation with her, like telling her what to do. But then accidentally turns his voice modulator off and she finds out he is ghostface?

a/n: this is SUCH a good request! Sorry it took me a while to answer :( I’ve been pretty busy lmao. Phone sex is smthn I’ve been wanting to write for a while 🤍 Ghostface!ethan holds a special place in my heart tbh

Ghostface!Ethan x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: phone sex, masturbation, dubcon!

╰┈➤here we go!

“So if he’s not your type, then who is?” Ethan asked with a smirk.

You had been paired up with some guy in your Econ class, who had been hitting on you. Ethan, your best friend, flanked you outside to question you about him.

You laughed, “Well, I guess I like guys will low voices. Oh, and I want them to like horror movies just as much as I do,”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Sounds like your describing that Ghostface guy to me,” he joked, and you playfully hit his shoulder as you two sat down on the grass under a tree.

“Come on Eth, don’t joke like that. That Ghostface freak already killed my film professor,” You deadpanned, Ethan’s face was still wearing a sly smile.

“You never answered my question,” he smirked, and laid down under the sun, crossing his legs and folding his arms under his head.

“Well,” you sighed, unsure whether or not to confess to him. You two were best friends, so you did trust him. Ultimately you gave in, “I guess so,”

“I knew it!” Ethan gasped.

“Wait, wait a second!” You cut in, “I always thought Ghostfaces voice in the movie was kinda hot…sexy, you know?”

“Alright,” Ethan shrugged, still not buying your cover up. You stayed under the tree with Ethan for a few more minutes, talking about anything, until you saw Anika run up. You two were going to eat lunch together, so you waved bye to Ethan and went the rest of the day without seeing him, which was strange, but you didn’t think much of it.

~ Anika had left to go on a date with Mindy, leaving you alone in your dorm to finish up homework. A few moments later your phone began to vibrate on your desk next to you. You checked the screen. No caller ID. You hesitated a second before answering, remembering Tara’s motto of living in the wild side. It would be funny if you pranked a scammer and told the story to your friends the next day.

“Hello?” You asked when you were met with silence from the other end. You heard what you thought sounded like heavy breathing before a high squeal echoed in the background. It sounded like a machine being turned on.

“Hello, y/n,” An unmistakable voice said from the other end. You scoffed. Of course Ethan would disappear for the rest of the day only to mess with her later. Him and Chad were probably laughed at you over your confession from earlier.

“Hey Ethan, I know you think your funny, but I’m really not laughing,” You said dryly.

“Oh, I assure you no one’s going to be laughing,” The voice said dangerously from the other end, as if he was hinting at a big surprise.

“I know you and Chad are having fun over your little joke,” You were a little hurt over Ethan exploiting what you said in private.

“I know what you think of me y/n, I’m very flattered,” The voice said sarcastically.

“Cut the shit Ethan!” You exclaimed. You were getting a little sick of this. It was a calm night until he called, the last thing on your mind was finishing your homework, but at this point you really just wanted to get back to it.

“This isn’t Ethan!” The voice snapped at her, outraged. Your lips parted and you struggled to form words. The voice wasn’t just a nameless prankster, it was cold blooded murderer and for all you knew, you could be next on the victim list.

“Well then who is this?” You managed, a pit growing in your stomach.

“If you're lucky you’ll find out,” he answered ambiguously.

“Are- Are you going to kill me?” It took your all of your courage to ask, and you were immediately regretting the answer.

“Maybe. I’ll just have to see how willing you are to do what I ask,” He replied menacingly.

“And what do you want me to do?”

“Strip,” He said plainly.

You sat in your chair, dumbfounded at the request. There was no way you had heard correctly.

“Tell me y/n, have you ever seen Stab?” Ghostface asked.

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Your voice waivers.

“If you’ll remember correctly, in the opening scene Casey Becker finds her boyfriend split open on her front porch. You’ll do what I ask if you don’t want your roommate to find you gutted like a fish,” His voice crescendoed from a conversational tone to a threatening one, and it terrified you.

“Now move your hands down to your pants, and stand up, face the window so I can see you,” Ghostface continued. You silently stood up and took your jeans off, slipping your hands down your panties.

You could hear what sounded like rustling clothes from the other end, “Is this good?” Your voice cracked.

“Perfect,” Ghostface purred in a raspy voice. You could feel yourself getting wet, “You can touch yourself now,” He permitted.

You slid a finger through your wetness, and let a shallow gasp escape. You moved your thumb towards your clit and rubbed your heat.

“That’s it,” He gasped, “Slip a finger in now,” His voice shook, and you could assume he was teasing himself while watching you.

You hesitated, it was a small movement, but he caught on.

“What’s the matter?” The voice asked, “I told you what to do,”

“It’s just-“ you began, “I’ve never really done anything like that before,” You confessed.

“If you value your life you’ll do it,” The voice pushed, and fear bubbles inside you again, but in some strange way it also fueled your movements. Your finger slid through your wet folds and slowly started moving.

You couldn’t help but let a few soft moans slip loose.

“That’s right, touching yourself for me,” Ghostface gasped, voice strained.

“Are you- are you doing it too?” You dared, testing the waters of this strange encounter.

“Fuck- yes,” He groaned huskily.

You dipped your finger in farther and sped your motions up, adding another when you heard his praise. You crooked your finger and continued until you felt a hot feeling travel into you.

Ghostafaces moans continued, fueled by your own sounds of pleasure. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm, if you weren’t busy paying attention to Ghostface, you would have missed a soft click.

“You look so good coming undone for me,” Ghostface said, although it didn’t sound like him. Your eyes rolled up in your head as you recognized the source, which was none other than Ethan. With that realization you immediately tipped over the edge and felt yourself come all over your hand.

Ethan let out a last groan, then a few more breathy whines, indicating that he had probably mimicked your actions.

“Ethan?” You murmured as you gasped for breath. You heard a startled sound, then silence. He had hung up. Your head spun as you tried to rationalize what had just happened. It could be Ethan, could it? There was no way he was capable of something like that

You heard a knock at your door, and jumped back. You frantically grabbed your jeans and pulled them up, peeking through the peep hole. From the other side you could see none other than Ethan Landrys nervous face, waiting at your doorstep.

fine

a/n: I did not expect this to turn into a series, but with that said, STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO!! 🤍

#Scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan Landry x reader #ethan Landry x y/n #ethan Landry smut #ethan Landry x reader smut #Ghostface smut #Ghostface x reader #jack champion #Ethan Landry oneshot #ethan Landry smut imagines #Scream #scream movies #Jack champion #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #x reader #smut #scream smut

[lucyandalexiafan]

It’s Lucy | Lucy Bronze x reader

Summary: reader has a panic attack and Lucy tries to comfort her.

Warnings: angst; allusion to past violent/abusive relationship with family/partner.

Words: 1.9k

I sit against the radiator of the bathroom.

Same place where I sat as a child, when I cried hiding myself in the same type of room and behind that door.

That door that I was forced to close in silence so that no one would know I was inside, leaving only the small light on the cabinet.

I always ended up in the same position.

Back against the radiator.

Head on knees.

Arms holding the legs to the chest, the calves against the thighs.

It's the same position I have now.

And, like then, the chest twists on itself due to the sobs.

Tears running down my cheeks.

I bite my lip until it bleeds in an attempt to hold back the laments, the noises.

Like when I was a kid and didn't want to disturb anyone.

But now I'm alone, at home.

In another city.

In another country.

But that anxiety never goes away.

That fear of being heard.

That fear of being discovered.

That fear of making the situation worse.

Lucy isn't there.

She is at the Barcelona camp, somewhere around Portugal.

Jona had allowed me not to go.

He had seen how bad I was, how badly I was playing, and he had asserted that my mental health was more important.

He had insisted that I was supposed to stay in Barcelona, at home.

So why do I feel so guilty?

I had put my phone on not disturb mode and the only thing I have done during these days as an attempt to communicate was reply to his text every night.

I'm okay.

No more words, no less.

It didn't matter what he wrote to me.

It didn't matter what he was talking about.

It didn't matter what photo he sent me of the team.

I didn't answer anything other than I'm okay.

It didn't matter if it was a lie.

I hadn't checked the messages and calls from Lucy, from Alexia, from the team.

I was, and am, too scared to read them.

To confront the disappointment they feel about me not being with them.

For my having stayed at home.

For my not being enough.

The fear of finding out that Lucy is mad at me makes me nauseous every time.

So I can't look at them.

Read them.

Answer to the calls.

And also because I hadn't heard my voice since she left and it wouldn't surprise me to know that it's gone.

Since Lucy had left I had spent the days at home, alternating between the living room and the bedroom.

A sense of nausea, fear, discomfort pervaded my body since the first second that I was alone.

Preventing me from eating.

Preventing me from going out.

Preventing me from doing anything other than lying still.

Lucy had left, she was forced to leave, having no justification not to.

Mapi was injured, so she was in Barcelona.

She had tried to convince me to open the door of the house: she had camped out on the landing of the floor all the first night, until the next morning the old woman from the flat next to mine had threatened to call the police if she didn't leave.

Three days had passed.

I didn't expect her to come back.

I love her, we are friends, but I never thought I deserved that treatment, that attention, that try one more time.

And, in the end, she had only confirmed my idea, my feeling of not being enough.

My nails penetrate the flesh of my calves.

My hands crush the skin.

I feel dirty.

Useless.

How is it possible that I can't even do my job anymore?

The house lock clicks.

I gasp in fright.

I hold my body even tighter as if this could protect me.

I will not move.

I don't know who they are, but it's not important.

I'm not important.

I hear footsteps.

The sound of an object being thrown to the ground.

The sounds of some doors being opened.

Are they thieves?

It does not make sense, it's still evening.

Maybe it's Lucy.

But why didn't she call me?

I bite my lip.

Then I hear the bathroom door open.

“Amor”

I huddle in on myself.

I try to disappear, to merge with the radiator.

Is she angry?

Does she want to hurt me?

I close my eyes.

“Amor”

I whine.

The pain in the chest increases more and more.

I hear her sit on the floor.

“Don't hurt me, please”

I hear her holding her breath.

“Amor, look at me”

I shake my head.

“I'm sorry Lucy… I'm sorry, I really am - I moan, blood dripping down my calves - I swear… it wasn't enough, but I tried”

There is silence.

Why doesn't she scream?

Why doesn't she hit me?

I feel arms hugging me.

I squirm.

I try to move her away, to push her away.

I don't deserve this affection.

I can't even do my job.

Study.

Leave the house.

Why doesn't she hit me?

Her hair touches my nose.

My forehead against the crook of her neck.

She says something to me but I can't hear it.

The noise in my head is too loud.

The noise of the beats, of the tachycardia, invades the ears.

A dull, constant, fast sound.

I tell her that I can't hear, that I can't understand.

I hold her tight.

My nails dug into the sleeve of her arm.

My tears wet her shirt.

She asks me if she can medicate me.

The worried, sweet voice.

I don't answer, scared at the idea that it's an excuse to leave.

To hurt me.

She asks it again, telling me that she would like to treat my calves.

I swallow saliva.

I grip her forearm tightly.

Two of her fingers rest against my chin.

They force it upwards.

Her eyes fixed on mine.

“Everything will be fine, you just have to cooperate with me, okay?”

I look at her scared.

“Please… Please don't hurt me”

Her gaze softens even more.

She tells me that the only thing she will do to me is medicate me, that she won't hurt me.

She then walks away towards the medicine cabinet.

She opens it and takes out a first aid kit.

The one where there are gauzes, disinfectant, plasters and everything else.

She approaches again.

“Now, every time I do something I'll tell you, so you know what's going on and you can stop me if you need to, okay?”

Will she stop or is she lying?

I nod slightly, too weak to protest, to oppose her.

She opens the kit and I flinch at the sound of the zipper opening.

She soaks a piece of cotton with some disinfectant.

“Amor, can you stretch your legs a little? This will make it easier to disinfect the cuts"

I don't respond, I just execute.

She asks me to leave them slightly bent, so that they don't touch the ground.

I feel the sting of disinfectant on a cut.

I groan in pain, sucking air between my teeth.

Her other hand touches my knee, the thumb caressing the skin.

“I'm sorry, I swear - I whisper, scared, hesitating when her eyes look into mine - I didn't think... I'm so sorry”

“Amor, don't worry” she whispers before chastely kissing my knee.

Then she continues, wound by wound, to disinfect me.

Why does she disinfect them?

Why is she so caring?

I don't deserve it.

I know it, and I bet she knows it too.

If she wants to hurt me why does she medicate me?

“I think it's better to not cover them, so they'll dry quickly, okay?”

I nod.

I no longer look into her eyes.

I look at her hands.

They are stained with my blood.

They smell of disinfectant.

The air smells of disinfectant.

Is she angry?

Why is she so sweet?

So loving?

I bite my lip.

Her shirt is stained with disinfectant.

Or maybe it's blood?

The spot is dark, small.

“Can you get up? So we can go to bed."

I plant a hand against the floor, but as soon as I try to get up I feel my strength fail.

I shake my head moaning softly.

I curl up in fear that she will hit me.

That she will start screaming.

Will she hurt me for this?

I close my eyes in terror as she approaches me, her arms raised towards me.

“Can I pick you up so I can take you to bed?”

I watch her.

Eyes widening.

She-

That's why she is so caring.

Of course.

Why did I believe there was no ulterior motive?

How could I be so stupid?

How long was she at the camp?

A week?

Is that why she medicated me?

Because then we can go to bed and-

I push myself towards the radiator

The fear that it will happen again, that she will hurt me too, invades my body.

The memories that come back to mind.

My hands hold my legs, my back pressed against the radiator.

“Please… don't hurt me - she looks at me confused, her lips parted - We-we will do it, I swear - I gasp in terror - but not now, I beg you. I-I don't feel I can do it."

She looks at me.

The confusion in her eyes.

She hesitates, pulling her arms back against her body.

“I just want to make you lie down, you can't stay on the floor all evening” her voice worried.

Maybe scared of my reaction.

“We won't do anything, I promise - I look at her - I just wish you were in a more comfortable place”

I look at her trying to figure out if she's lying about herself.

Maybe she really just meant-

“You won't hurt me?” I ask hesitantly.

She shakes her head.

Her lips parted.

“I would never hurt you, amor”

A hint of urgency in her voice.

Can I trust her?

It's Lucy.

I can trust Lucy.

Right?

It's Lucy.

The sweet girl who gave me Lego flowers because she had seen them in a store and she had thought of me.

The loving girl who always hugs me because she knows that physical contact is the only thing that calms my anxiety.

The caring girl who always orders my favorite pizza when she understands that I'm having a bad day.

It's Lucy.

With her transparent glasses, nose piercing and freckles.

I bite my lip.

The tears welling up in my eyes.

Why do I always ruin everything?

She'll dump me after this.

She won't want to deal with me anymore.

I look at her again.

I know that if she tries to hurt me I won't stop her.

I will cry, but I won't fight her.

I don't have the force to do it.

Ever since I ran away from that house I promised myself I wouldn't let anyone hurt me or hit me, but the reality is that now it is so difficult to fight, to oppose, her.

I nod.

She's right, I can't spend all night on the floor.

In one way or another, we will end up in that bed together.

In one way or another, if she wants, she will find the opportunity to hurt me.

Her arms lift me up.

One under the crook of the knees, one under the middle of the back.

I instinctively push myself against her chest.

My hands clutching the fabric of her t-shirt.

The tears that wet it.

“I-I'm sorry Lucy”

She places me on the bed.

She kisses my forehead, then my nose.

“Don't think about it now, - she kisses my nose again - Whatever happened, it doesn't matter. I love you” she whispers, before lying down next to me, covering us with the blankets and hugging me.

It's Lucy.

I'm not sure that the way I wrote the allusions to Reader's past life is correct: in my native language they work, but I'm not familiar enough with English to know 100/100 if the way I wrote them is correct. If they are wrong please point it out to me, explain me what is the correct way and I will change them (so I can learn for the next time too). Thank you so much:)

#woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze fanfic #woso imagine

[katelynnwrites]

Oh I’ll Turn My Grey Skies (Blue) | Laura Freigang

warnings: laura's injury :(

word count: 1108

summary: due to her injury, your girlfriend comes home from national camp early

a/n: had to write something fluffy about it 😔

You’ve just finished putting away the groceries when Laura calls.

Which strikes you as odd because she never calls, always choosing to FaceTime due to her fervent claims of needing to see you smile at least once a day.

The other part that is strange is that your girlfriend is calling you in the middle of the day. She rarely does that during international breaks, really only having the time to talk to you properly when she’s getting ready for bed.

‘Schatz?’ You question anxiously as soon as you pick up the phone.

‘Hi.’

‘What’s wrong?’

Biting down on your lip, you cross your fingers and hope the sinking feeling in your stomach is unwarranted. The forward had video called you just last night and she had been alright then so she had to be okay now right?

Her voice is soft when she asks, ‘How open are you to having a little stay in movie date night today?’

‘Today?’ You double check.

‘Mhm.’

‘Laura what’s going on?’

‘I kinda sorta got hurt a tiny bit so I’m leaving camp early.’ She sheepishly admits.

‘Oh schatz.’ You breathe.

Practically sensing your worry, the blonde quickly explains, ‘I’m okay really! I just landed stupidly on my shoulder so the medical staff here thought it best that I come back to Frankfurt early, to get it properly checked out.’

‘I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to the international break.’

‘It fucking sucks.’ Laura sighs.

Though there is cheerfulness in her tone when she adds, ‘But I get to come home to you sooner! And have our date night?’

‘Yeah we can have our date night.’

Your girlfriend makes a pleased noise and a smile plays on your lips when you hear it.

‘When does your flight land schatz? Do you want me to come pick you up?’

‘Yes please. That would be sweet of you.’ Laura happily says.

There’s some muffled sounds on her end of the call and then her voice comes through again, ‘I’ll text you the details. Syd’s here to help me pack the last of my things now so I need to go but I will see you real soon okay?’

‘See you in a bit. I love you Lau.’

‘Love you more.’ She answers, hanging up before you get a chance to protest.

******

Laura has a sheepish smile on her face when you see her waiting for you at the airport arrivals.

‘Hi.’ You breathe.

‘I missed you.’ She softly greets.

‘I missed you too schatz.’

The blonde’s arm is in a sling and you can’t help but uneasily glance her over, wondering if you are missing anything else.

‘Hey I’m alright. It looks worse than it is, I promise.’

‘You sure?’ You ask, touching her bandaged arm lightly.

Your girlfriend nods, ‘Completely. In a few weeks, I’ll be back to scoring goals again.’

A giggle escapes you, ‘I see you’re confident.’

The blonde winks at you, ‘Isn’t that why you love me?’

‘More than just because of that but yes I love you Laura.’

Your words are nothing but honest and the German woman can’t help the slight pink tint that rises in her cheeks.

‘Let’s go home schatz.’ You whisper, as you grab the handle of her suitcase.

The striker begins to argue that you don’t need to get her suitcase but you give her a stubborn look and she relents.

Slipping her uninjured hand into yours, she murmurs, ‘Okay let’s go home.’

******

Your girlfriend has made herself very comfortable, practically fitting perfectly into your side as she dips into the bowl of snacks you both are sharing.

Her eyes are on the movie that is playing but yours are on her.

Absent-mindedly, you comb your fingers through her hair and she leans even further into you.

‘Schatz?’

Laura hums, turning to look at you questioningly.

Gently, you say, ‘You don’t have to pretend with me. It’s okay if you aren’t okay. You are allowed to be upset.’

The blonde sighs loudly.

‘I know and I’m not upset. Not really. Just frustrated at the timing of it all.’

Carefully, you press a kiss onto the side of her head, abundantly aware of how your girlfriend struggles with her lack of playing time on the national team. With Poppi out injured, you know she had been hoping for a chance to prove herself against both Austria and Iceland.

‘I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, you played incredibly well. I’m proud of you schatz. Is there anything I can do to help??

A small smile plays on the forward’s lips as she whispers, ‘You can kiss me.’

You giggle, doing as she requests immediately.

One kiss, two kisses, three kisses. A lifetime of kisses is what you will happily give Laura if she wants it.

Being careful of her injured shoulder, you angle yourself so that you are in a better position to kiss her safely, slipping your hand to cup the back of her neck while your other hand rests lightly on her cheek.

Your girlfriend begins to smile into your shared kisses, the two of you stealing quick breaths in between them.

‘Love your kisses. Love you.’ She eventually mumbles, her blue gray eyes shining.

‘I love you too.’

Laura leans in close to give you a kiss of her own.

When she pulls away, she has a sort of vulnerable look on her face.

‘Would it be too much or too silly if I were to ask you to kiss my shoulder better?’ She barely audibly requests.

‘Not at all.’ You reassure.

Very gently, you get her sling off and replace its support with your hand,

Laura’s gaze never leaves you as you tenderly touch your lips onto where her bandage is thickest, knowing that it is where she feels the most pain.

She’s been placing her free hand over it every now and then, during the movie, with a frown of discomfort etched on her face.

The striker did not think you had noticed but now she chokes up a little as she realises you have.

‘Did it work?’ You check.

Completely taken by you, Laura nods.

She can’t explain it but it does, the ache and soreness having receded a fractional amount.

‘Good.’

Easing your girlfriend’s arm back into her sling, you give her one more affectionate kiss.

‘Anything more you need and you let me know okay? I’m here for you Lau.’

‘I know. I know.’

Laura shifts so that she’s in your arms, content to simply be in your embrace for the moment.

Forever really because it is home to her.

You are home to her.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart

#laura freigang #laura freigang x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso community #dfb frauen #gerwnt #eintracht frankfurt frauen #katelynnwrites #woso oneshot #woso blurbs

[lidiasloca]

more than this (azriel x reader)

summary: after Azriel and reader had a summer together, the last thing Az was expecting was to face her again. (angst).

previous chapter

chapter six

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You close the door behind you, and the sound of it reverberates across the loud silence.

You eye Azriel; he’s standing very still, looking at you expectantly, as if anticipating the first blow to be yours.

But after a while, he seems to understand you are expecting him to talk first.

“Elain - she told you something,” he says but it sounds like a question.

At that, you feel your jaw clench, your whole face tensing into trying so hard to not let tears fall. He sees that, or at least his shadows do; running near his ear, whispering things you cannot hear, nor wish to hear.

He takes a cautious step towards you. You instantly take a step back. “Y/n,” he breathes as if in pain. “Please, let me explain.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “You won’t dare deny it, will you?” you say, mustering raw sarcasm in your tone to disguise your hurt. “You won’t have come all this way to deny it.” Too soon you feel tears running down your cheek. “Right?”

You hate it, and you hate yourself for being so weak. But above it, you hate him.

Selfish, manipulative, hurtful, lying Azriel.

Someone you wish you hadn’t met.

Someone you wish had only stayed as a summer memory.

Nonetheless, you find yourself waiting for his answer like a fool. Hoping you’re wrong, very wrong. 

But you are not; you’re sure of that when he avoids your eyes, when he clenches his fists.

“Well, it’s pretty secret, -you know Azriel-, but we… sort of have something.”

“For how long?”

 “Somewhere in May.”

You try to stop a sob, putting your hand over your mouth swiftly. Closing your eyes tightly, not bearing the sight of him.

“Y/n,” you hear him whisper even though your ears are ringing, blurring the exterior sounds. 

Then you feel his hands on your shoulders, and it brings you back to here, to now, to him. 

You open your teary eyes, meeting with his, noticing the lack of life in them. Nothing similar to their hazel color during the summer.

“Y/n.”

Another sob passes your lips. “You lied. To me, to her - Azriel, you lied.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says sounding desperate.

“Why did you have to lie? I tru - I trusted you. She trusted you!” You try to talk, to let him know how much you hate him, but the pressure in your throat is making it quite impossible. And you know the tears all over your face make you look pathetic. “She was telling me how you taught her training stuff. Gods. She told me about you as I was looking her - looking her dead in the eye knowing damn well what I had done. What you had done!”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“Stop saying that! You are not sorry at all; you don’t care at all. Not for me. I always was just a side ting. A toy. Never - never anything more to you. You have never cared.”

He moves his hand to your wet checks. “That’s not true. Y/n. That’s not true, I swear.”

I swear.

“You want me to believe you now? Really, Azriel?”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he replies, his eyes pleading. But you don’t buy it, not anymore. Especially not when his scarred fingers caress your face, coaxing you to calmness. “Stop lying! You were with her, you are still with her! You li-”

“I’m not with her anymore, Y/n,” he cuts you off. “And I’ve always cared for you. Always. So much that when I first met you - this past summer - I couldn’t stop myself.” You watch him struggle with words, trying to not duck his head at your glaring. “I had to know you. I had to. And after that night, I couldn’t keep myself away from you. I wanted to be with you all the time. And I knew if I only had that summer away, only that summer to be with you, I had to take the opportunity. And I selfishly did.”

You watch him incredulously, taking the words in.

“I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, Y/n, I swear. But when you came to the House of Wind - when I saw you again. Gods, I didn’t know what to do. I was so mad at myself - at the imminent consequences of my acts. And I - I hold that anger against you. And I’m so sorry; for that and for - for lying to you. I will be eternally sorry.”

It disgusts you; every single word he’s saying, the way he’s eyes scan your face, and especially, the way his hands cup your face. These same hands that weren’t meant to have touched you in the first place. It utterly disgusts you.

“Don’t touch me,” you whisper angrily. His touch falters but doesn’t back up. “Don’t touch me with those han-” The shout dies in your throat at the instant realization of your words.

But it’s too late.

He removes his scarred hands and hides them behind his back. And though it’s not what you had meant; never had you been anything but adoring of every part of him, especially his hands. So his. Hands that held a story of him he had told you with trust and comfort. You cannot help but feel glad you are hurting him back.

Maybe you’re just as depraved as him. 

“Don’t hate me, Y/n. Please.”

He deserves it, you make yourself think.

You dry your tears with your sleeves quickly and make yourself say, ignoring his previous words, “You’ve already explained yourself; now, go.”

He moves again closer to you. “Please don’t-”

“Go, Azriel! Just go,” you cut him.

“Ple-”

“Azriel, get out. Or I will make Helion drag you out of the court.”

“I have more to say,” he mutters, his voice suddenly dangerous. You know the mention of Helion is the reason. 

“I do not care.”

His eyes close but he doesn’t accept defeat. Not at all. “Gods - what do you want me to say?!” Your mouth parts in surprise at the angry tone he uses. He has no right - absolutely no right - to be mad. “What the hell do I have to say exactly for you to forgive me?!”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice, Azriel. I said go!”

“No.” He replies. “Don’t push me away.” He takes your wrist softly, but you try to pull away, failing as he catches it again, this time more restraining. “Y/n, you don’t understand, I-”

Then silence.

“You what?”

“I still cannot bear not being near you. Y/n, I’ve tried, but since that day, at the House of Wind, where I got to be close to you again, alone in that room, something - I felt… alive, lighter. And I had missed you so much, I realized. I don’t want to miss you anymore.”

As more tears threaten to fall, you consider backing off yourself. Leaving the room before you humiliate yourself. 

This, this was all you had ever wanted to hear. 

But not now, not anymore.

“Get out,” you breathe, staring at his eyes.

He is too close.

“You don’t want to listen. You don’t want to hear the truth,” he says slowly as if he didn’t want the words to actually get out.

“You know nothing about truth.” You reply, still feeling his scarred hand on your wrist. 

Azriel sighs as if in exhaustion. “What I did was so wrong; I know, and I will never forgive myself for hurting you that way. But, please, Y/n, you know me, I’ve told you everything, you know my heart; let’s not - please don’t waste this that we have.”

He had sure as hell not told you everything.

You glare at him. “We have nothing, Azriel. You said it yourself; ‘only one summer, then, nothing’.”

“I was so wron-.”

“It was your rule,” you interrupt him.

“It was!” He shouts, which makes you take a step backward, having him follow you immediately, towering over you as his hands still hold yours. You feel trapped. “It was a stupid rule I made for myself, 'cause no matter how much I wanted you, it was Elain who was supposed my mate! The third sister - It was supposed to be her.” His eyes then open in shock. “It was supposed to…”

Your breathing stops as you feel your heart break.

Wholly break.

He never deemed it possible for you to be his mate next to the Archeron sister.

But sadness doesn’t have a chance next to the bizarre feeling within your soul. It snaps you back to reality.

Azriel… 

Your mate.

“Y/n,” he breathes

“Get out,” you whisper for the hundredth time.

“No, Y/n, please; don’t do this.”

“Get out, please,” you plead, trying to get rid of his hold on your wrist, but it only makes him hold you tighter, walk even closer to you, till you have to tilt your head at a hurtful angle. 

“Don’t you feel it as well?” he asks.

Your mate.

“Get out.”

“Gods - Y/n, do not do this,” he cries, his face holding more emotion than it ever had. “Don’t ignore this. Don’t turn from us.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “There is no us. No matter what we are - no matter whatever, you made your choices. Choices that’ll condition everything. Choices that make us nothing.”

You watch tears cascading down his cheeks as he moves his other hand to hold you as well.

“Let go, Azriel, you’re hurting me,” you mumble.

But he doesn't seem to hear your words, as if in a trance. “I- please.” More tears start to fall from his pained eyes.

“I will call Helion in, Azriel; get out.”

“Don’t do this. Gods - Y/n, we are mates! How can-”

“Let me go, you’re hurti-”

“- you shove me away?” he continues over your protests. “I understand you are mad at me. But please just take your time to think. Don’t - don’t decide now. Please, Y/n. Just don’t turn from us.”

“No, Azriel!” He finally pays you attention, now that you are truly shouting. “I don’t want anything to do with you; a hurtful liar who hurts me just because he can. Who makes his choices abusing his power over others. I don’t want anything with you. I never will with a male like you.” 

He holds your gaze, his touch faltering yet still too tight. More tears fall every time he blinks. 

So you decide you have to do it; you have to make the last blow.

You have to ensure he hates you as much as you want to hate him.

So you spare a last glance at his hands on your wrists and then look up to him. “Maybe you’re just like your father, after all.”

And the aftermath it’s just blurry and vague; a memory you’d be better off forgetting. How more tears rolled down his shocked face. How his eyes lost all life in them. How he immediately moved his hands away from you as if your skin burned him. How he lingered in front of you for some seconds before he had it in himself to turn to the door.

How he left.

-Characters by Sarah J. Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

well, the best defense is a good offense, ig. i literally have been listening to "if i were a boy" on repeat as I wrote this lol. oh, and i did told you i was inspired by august by taylor swift - so.

tag list:

@kalulakunundrum @bubybubsters @goradgirl @kennedy-brooke @going-through-shit @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @linoisqt @minakay @nastynesta @lockedinmytower @stargirl1714 @justagingerliving @marvelpotter @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @mis-lil-red@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @e-dollly @emptyporsche

#azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #az imagine #azriel imagine

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Risk It All Part 4/6

⚠️Warning ⚠️

+18

Reader gets pregnant by Ruben. Although the two are not together Ruben promises to support her through the pregnancy, eventually letting reader stay with him until the child is born.  (This fic includes alot of angst and serious topics)

Enjoy!

You were married to Ruben.

Six months had gone by and following those six months your life was now unrecognizable. After a business like wedding with only one witness present, you were now Mrs Dias, swept into a life of luxurious parties and unwanted media attention, all whilst carrying your first child.

"You're gonna catch a cold."

"It's what I'm hoping for."

Ruben found you on the roof top balcony, hiding from your duties. Elena, the director of your life, would want you inside, shaking people's hands, talking about how excited you and Ruben were to bring new life into this world.

"Y/N, please come inside."

Ruben was better than you at playing along. He didn't mind lying to his friends, lying about how you two met and "decided" to keep your relationship private from the world. They all ate it up, even Ruben's family.

"I wanna go back to the hotel." You said, wrapping your arms around yourself to mend the nights cold. Ruben sighed, but took it upon himself to remove his tuxedo jacket, draping it over your shoulders. "We will, in time. The auction isn't over yet."

"And all the ice cream you can eat." Ruben smiled, grabbing your hand as he led you back inside. He kept his promise, of course. During your time living together you had come to learn that Ruben was no liar, even when the truth hurt sometimes.

It was a charity event in London, the money going to a good cause. However you had no idea why rich people had the need to dress up in expensive items costing more money than what they were actually donating.

"Do you promise to buy me Shawarma when we do leave?" You asked, pouting your lips and batting your eyelashes.

"Wait for me while I get the car." He said, leaving you and Elena sitting on the top of a set of concrete steps, enjoying your Shawarmas.

"He really cares about you." Elena said, unprovoked. "My job would be much more difficult if he didn't."

"Thanks." You mumbled, too busy enjoying your declicious food. The growth of your belly also followed the growth of your appetite, something that caused you to gain a bit of extra pregnancy weight.

"Ruben told me to make sure that you get a nice settlement once the two of you divorce."

You snorted. "How nice of him."

The two of you were literally playing house, getting married only to divorce a minimum of two years after the baby was born. If it wasn't for the security your life with Ruben offered, you would have never agreed to go through with any of it. I mean, you were literally playing with your own life, all because Ruben had a precious image of himself to preserve.

"That's us."

Elena stood, seeing Ruben's Mercedes coming your way. You made the effort to stand up as well, but lost your footing as the weight of your belly tampered with your balance.

"Dear god!" Elena gasped, as you came flying behind her, taking a tumble down the concrete steps.

"My Shawarma." You groaned.

"Y/N!"

Ruben was out of the car and rushing to your side before Elena had managed to. "Fuck, are you okay?" He didn't touch you,  afraid to do more damage as you stood on all fours, a hand wrapped around your belly.

"Y/N, please tell me you're okay?"

"I wasn't finished." You cried, a sad sight seeing the neatly wrapped bread now splatter on the ground before you.

"She needs to got to the hospital Ruben." Elena heels clicked as she descended the steps, reaching the bottom of them. "Now!"

"I'm fine." You reassured, but struggled to get up from the ground by yourself. Ruben's strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you up with one swoop.

"At least let someone check her out." Elena suggested.

"I promise, I'm all good." You said, trying to laugh it off.

It was as busy as any emergency in a big city. People from everywhere came with broken limbs and bleeding wounds to tend. For this you felt guilty that Ruben managed to convince a doctor to prioritize you. "Well, you seem fine to me Mrs Dias." The doctor stepped away from the stool on which you sat, removing his rubber gloves to make a few notes on his computer. "Has there been any unusual activity since your fall, like the baby moving around more than usual?"

"No." Ruben said, determined. "I'll take you to the emergency room." It was the urgency in his voice and the way his hands trembled as he still held to support you. "Okay." You nodded, agreeing to let Ruben take you to the nearest emergency room.

You bit your lip, pondering his question.  "Um, no. I don't think so. It doesn't really do that."

The doctor turned back from his computer, a deep frown on his face as he looked at you. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"The baby." You shrugged. "It doesn't move around. Or at least I haven't felt it kick yet."

The doctor turned to Ruben, the two of them sharing the same terrified gaze.

"What?" You frowned.

The doctor stood, retrieving another pair of gloves as well as calling for a nurse to assist him.

"What's going on?" You asked, uncertainty in your voice.

"Mrs Dias, it says you're six months pregnant."

"Yes, and?"

The doctor and his nurse worked together to rearrange his office, bringing in a monitor that looked like a tv screen on wheels. "Prepare for an emergency ultrasound. Patient is six months pregnant but has failed to notice any signs of life from the fetus."

"Doctor please, tell me what's going on. Is my baby going to be alright?" Things were moving fast, as well as your heart rate. You knew that things were serious when the nurse started attaching clips to your finger tips, setting up a graphic to show your pulse. Whilst all of this was going on the doctor had you lay on a medical table, pulling up your shirt as to expose your belly. "This might feel cold." He said, the only warning before rubbing a cooling gel across your stomach.

"Ruben." You flinched, practically panicking now.

"Hey, I'm here." He said, grabbing a hold of your hand, squeezing it to reassure you.

Your eyes traveled to the ceiling, the blinding lights causing tears to slid down the side of your face. You gasped as pressure was applied to your stomach, the doctor moving around with his tools. However, you were to afraid to look and confirm this.

"Ultrasound begins." The doctor said, speaking to his nurse. "We have a visual of the fetus...Everything looks fine. Let's move on to localizing the heartbeat..."

You tilted your head as Ruben grip around your hand tightened. He looked focus, brows furrowed as his eyes were fixated on the little TV screen. The suspens was killing you. What if something was wrong with your....

"Hearbeat located." The doctor said,  followed by a collective sigh from both Ruben and the nurse. You, however was still trembling all over.

"Congratulations Mrs Dias, you and your husband await a beautiful baby girl."

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

You returned to the hotel room around midnight. Ruben was still on the phone with Elena as you went to wash up. Only when you were halfway asleep did you feel a dip in the bed that you shared.

"Ruben?"

He krept closer, doing something that the two of you had never done before. "I'm here." He said, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Why are you shaking?" Your eyes flung open, turning around in order to face him. Your heart sank once you saw the exhaustion in his face, the remaining terror in his eyes. "Ruben?" Your hands went to caress his cheek, but he jerked away, not wanting to be consoled.

"Ruben?"

He sat up and you followed.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head, burring his face in his hands as if he suddenly suffered a severe headache.

"Ruben, please. You're scaring me." You scooted closer,  desperate to be near him, to touch him. However he jerked away once more, refusing to be touched. It broke your heart, seeing him this way.

"I thought I...." He mumbled. "I thought I lost..."

"Oh Ruben, the baby is okay. Everything is gonna be okay." You didn't care if he refused to be touched, you couldn't take it, leaping forwards to pull him close. However Ruben caught you in motion, grabbing your hands just as you were about to touch him. The room was dark but Ruben eyes were visible in the moonlight. They were shimmering,  shimmering with his tears. He pressed his lips together, uttering the words through gritted teeth. "No Y/N, I could have lost you." Your heart fluttered, eyes fixated on him and only him. He surrendered, lowering your hands so that they rested on each side of his face. "I could have lost you." He whispered, shifting his head a little so that your hand covered a part of his mouth, his lips soft beneath the palm of your hands. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you Y/N."

"You won't lose me Ruben. Not me or the baby."

"Fuck."

He looked up, eyes wide. The palm of your hand still covered his mouth, however his intentions were not to speak. He kissed it, the center of your hand, moving on to kiss the back of it, tracing the kisses all the way up towards your forearms, railing you in. You gasped once he had you pressed flush, against him, his head buried in the crease of your neck. He inhaled your scent,  preserving it in his memory. "Ruben." You groaned. The heat of the moment capturing you too. You knew that you wanted this, you've always wanted this. "I want you Ruben." The words were whispered against the smooth skin below his ear. Ruben responded with a low grunt made deep down in his throat. And then his hand slipped between the sheets in search for an opening.

Your back arched, to the sensation of him, Ruben's fingers, making their way down your damped panties.

"Say you want me Y/N." He huffed. "Say you want me forever."

"I want you Ruben, forever."

It was all that needed to be said. No further words were spoken as the movments between you synchronized into something fluid, a liquid of some sort. A liquid of love. Yes, it was the only to describe it. The two of you were in love.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #ruben dias imagine #football angst

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

The Accident

Request: JJ got hurt when he crashed his motorcycle and he woke up to see the reader sleeping, head resting on her arms, on the edge of the bed. She’s had a crush on him for years, but never told him cause he liked Kiara since kindergarten.

Paring: JJ Maybank x reader

The screeching of metal on concrete vibrates through my mind as the scene plays on repeat. Kie’s sobs, Pope’s shouts for JJ to stop playing around, Topper and Sarah helping load JJ’s body back into the truck. JJ’s head resting on my lap, my fingers running through his blood matted hair, telling myself he is just asleep and we are on John B’s couch.

               The world is submerged underwater and my only focus is on the boy laying in front of me, my best friend. The whole idea behind getting the cross back was absurd, every moment of it. No other moment of my life has come close to the horror that chilled my bones watching the cops chase after JJ once getting Kie to safety in the truck.

               Rustling coming from the door frame snaps me out of my trance to find John B, Sarah, and Kie with hushed whispers. John B wasn’t with us on our failed heist and by the look in his eyes the girls are obviously catching him up to speed. We are supposed to be taking shifts so someone is here with JJ when he wakes up but I refuse to leave. JJ’s cousin checked him out and said he should be fine, but I can’t help but watch each rise and fall of his chest to be sure.

John B’s eyes meet mine and I can see the slightest rise of his eye brows at the scene he is witnessing. I duck my head back to JJ and ignore the heat rising on my cheeks. He is the only one who knows about my crush on JJ ever since a very embarrassing late night drunk conversation after everyone else passed out for the night. But we both know that JJ has been carrying a torch for Kie since kindergarten. JJ was most hurt during her kook year, taking a long while to forgive her, but now acts like it never happened.

JJ paces back and forth with joint in his hand. Pope and John B left with Kie to get provisions for her welcome back party. Only JJ is having a harder time letting go of the last year and I am trying to talk him down. I’m really hoping the weed kicks in soon, JJ is usually more open minded when he gets a nice relaxing dose.

“Y/N how could she just leave us like that and try to come back like nothing happened?!” JJ stops mid pace to look at me, waiting a real answer.

“JJ she explained everything. We were all mad and upset she froze us out. She’s sorry and she’s back. P4L right?”

               Honestly, with Kie’s abandonment I was hoping that JJ would get over his little crush and set his sights somewhere else. Ideally I would want his sights set more on me since I was the only girl in the group. I guess it takes a while to heal a broken heart. Everything went back to normal after that night.

“Y/N,” John B whispers from the doorway. I try to ignore him but he walks till he is standing directly behind me. Placing a hand on my shoulder he tries again. “Y/N, you need to get some rest. Or at least a shower.”

I shake my head as a sob builds in my throat.

“Please, shower at least. You still have his blood on your hands and your legs.” John B squeezes my shoulder, “I’ll stay here with him.”

               Relenting, I nod my head in agreeing with John B. I will my legs to get up and he swiftly takes my place, not letting me change my mind to reclaim my seat. Slowly I make my way out but pause at the door to look back at JJ. Just one more peak at his face before I make my way to the shower.

               On the sink one of the girls laid out some of their extra clothes for me to change into. A swirl of gratitude dances in my chest. It is the lightest I’ve felt since this terrible night started. Operating on autopilot, my hand turns on the water to the shower. I let it run to allow some time for it to warm up. Hot water here is hit or miss, but who can complain about running water.

               Tearing off my clothes one piece at a time my eyes lock on to the red coating my hands and thighs. You still have his blood on your hands and your legs. I run my hands over each other in attempt to rub it off. Not hard or fast enough. My hands move faster, I press harder. I move to my thighs. Small pieces flake off but not enough to make a difference.

               Tears patter against the tile floor breaking me out of my trance. I take deep breathes, 1…2…3… I count in my head. JJ is here, he is alive and he is going to wake up. Finally stepping in the shower the luke warm water cascades down my back and I can feel my muscles loosening. I quickly get to work on cleaning myself up and changing into the new set of clothes.

“He’s still asleep,” John B’s voice greets me without looking up from the ground.

               John B gets up to leave and I quickly reclaim my seat. I feel his presence linger at the door, not quite ready to leave. I can’t blame him, I don’t want to leave him either. JJ is my best friend, and I know John B feels the same.

“Have you thought about telling him yet?” I don’t answer him, which is an answer in itself. “When he wakes up you should.”

               His footstep leave toward the living room with the others. Tell JJ? Just so he can tell me I’m just his friend and that he still has a thing for Kie. To have him act weird around me for the rest of our lives. The thought of that happening is more unbearable than the idea of seeing him and Kie together and losing him in the process. At least I lose him because of her instead of losing him because of myself.

               My eye lids grow heavy as the last bit of adrenaline seeps out of my system. Maybe I should lay down for a bit, just rest my eyes. I’ll wake up before JJ does. Slowly I climb onto the side of the bed that JJ is not on. I loop my fingers in with his as I rest my head against the pillow.

For the rest you can decide how it ends:

Angsty/Sad Happy

#jj maybank #outerbanks fanfiction #fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank oneshots #jj maybank x you #jj maybank obx

[violetszone]

Let's Meet Our Daughter

Charles x fem!reader

Summary: You were afraid of giving birth and weren't ready, and but your daughter had decided to come two weeks early.

WARNINGS: Quick finish,not edited writing,normal delivery

A/n: actually i have no idea what i wrote,By the way, I used some sentences that women really say during childbirth.

One of the things you've been thinking about for years was how you'd give birth if you got pregnant because you were terrified about it.You were even more afraid now that you were weeks away from giving birth to your daughter.

You never wanted to talk to Charles about it because he was really trying to deal with your fears but there was nothing he could do about it.It's only two weeks before you give birth to your daughter, and Charles returns to the races.

You were sitting on the bed reading, Charles brought you both a glass of water and left yours next to you, he settled down on his side of the bed.Your daughter was active tonight, you were actually happy about it because it wasn't hurting She kicked a few times as usual, Charles had a little talk with his daughter, placed a kiss on your stomach,you turned off the lights and went to sleep.

Of course, sleeping wasn't easy because your daughter's kicks really started to hurt.You even moaned because it really hurt then you felt a wetness You turned on the light next to you and Charles woke up trying to understand what happened.

"No no no not now I'm not ready yet please" Charles took your hand in fear "Baby are you okay what's wrong tell me" you started crying unintentionally just then you felt a contraction "Charles, I'm giving birth" He got out of bed and came over to you, helped you get up, you already knew your water was break but now you were really scared.

You got in the car as fast as you could. you were crying with fear Charles was holding your hand, probably because he thought it hurt, he took you in his arms when you came to the hospital and they took you for the first check-up with a stretcher in the emergency room.

At the first check, they said that they will not do anything for now, as there is still 4 cm of clearance and the contractions are back to normal.They took you to the room and connected to a few machines for control, now you are a little calmer.

Charles didn't leave your side and started keeping minutes for contractions. When your contractions increased, you started to get stressed again Charles was holding yourhand "Charles I can't I-I'm so scared" Charles wiped the tears from your eyes and kissed your cheek, "My love, I know you can do it, don't be afraid, I'm right here, there's a little more time, okay breathe, I won't let go of your hand"

You nodded, when the contraction passed, you breathed and sat back, you had been in the hospital for almost 4 hours when the doctor came to check, there was not enough opening, but they said they could give an epidural if your pain is too much, you didn't want it because you thought you could stand it.

By the 10th hour the contractions were really unbearable, you looked at Charles in horror when the doctor finally said it'stime to push. "No! i changed my mind,I don't want it Charles tell her I don't want it please I don't" 

Somehow they convinced you to push, after a few hours you were really tired and hurt you spoke tiredly "Can I go home for awhile? I promise I’ll come back.” You frowned when everyone in the room laughed at what you said.

Your doctor told you to push again “I don’t care if you have to take her out of my ear, just get her out!” you shouted and groaned Charles wiped your forehead with his napkin you were really about to cry

"YN you have to push again we see the baby's head, Charles help her" Charles turned to you "Baby once again I know it hurts so bad but push for the last time" you groaned "No you don't know"

You turned and shouted when the nurse warned you "Will you shut up, I'm busy yelling at my boyfriend" You pushed with all your might and finally let yourself go when the baby's cries were heard.

You were crying with happiness when they held your daughter in your arms they took your daughter to clean your doctor checked to see if you were okay and asked how you were you nodded her, "You know YN people do this more than once" You looked at your doctor nervously and turned to Charles.“Maybe we can adopt the next one.”

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