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#would you call his hair colour here white
mountainsandmayhem · 2 days
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Netflix & Chill
Marcus Pike x Female Reader
18+, MDNI
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Summary: You spend your fifth date with Marcus at his place watching Netflix.
Or
You might be in your thirties, but you can still Netflix and Chill.
Warnings: fluffy smut. Kissing. Little bit of dirty talk. Fully clothed. Marcus just being the love of my life the entire time.
AN: Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. I am too busy having my brain absolutely disintegrated by thoughts of Agent Pike. I am sick over him. Down bad. Wanting to rip off my arms and beat myself senseless with them over him. Leave me alone!! But also leave me nice comments because I’m a slut with a praise kink lol. Thank you so much for reading 🤎
Graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics
Moodboard by me
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“Oh god,” you whimper, both of you are fully dressed. You’re caged under his strong body as he pushes his hips down on you. You can feel his cock through his grey sweats and your thin, black yoga pants. The credits of whatever movie you were watching rolled in the background.
“Is this ok?” He asks, kissing at your neck and earlobe. The soft, fuzzy brown blanket falls around both of you, encasing you in his earthy and citrus scent.
“Ya, please don’t stop.” You writhe under him, feeling that familiar tingly pressure building. He smiles into the crook of your neck.
It was your fifth date with Marcus Pike, FBI agent and potential man of your dreams. In his younger years, he probably would have already slept with you by now. But age has made him a man of patience and waiting. Only giving what he’s willing to let go of, what he can nurture and grow. And for the first time in a long time, he thinks that might be you.
“I won’t stop, baby.”
Baby, shit. He panics internally. He’s only called you by your name until now. He nervously looks over at you and you smile sleepily.
“I like that,” you mumble.
“Which part?” He asks his voice like warm oil along your skin. “Me grinding into what I’m sure is the most beautiful pussy in the world, or the kisses on your soft, slender, vanilla scented neck, or me calling you baby?”
Your legs start to shake around him as you pull him in to kiss him hard. You sweep your tongue along his bottom lip. He tastes like the popcorn and expensive Cabernet Sauvignon you were both drinking.
“All of it,” you say between kisses.
He pulls away, bringing his hands to your face and gently wiping the few loose hairs that stick to your skin, then drags the tip of his nose down yours before resting his forehead against yours.
“You’re truly so beautiful. I’m so happy I met you, baby.” He pushes his hips into you harder and a pornographic moan fills the room as the trailer for whatever Netflix is suggesting next plays. “Sound so pretty too.”
“Marcus,” you say wantonly.
“I know. I’m here.” He says, eyes still locked on yours, one thumb making sweet, soft circles on your cheek while his other slips behind your head.
Your hands bunch into his white t-shirt. “I’m gonna cum,” you moan, letting his coca-cola coloured eyes wash over you, and drench your whole body in carbonated pleasure. Sparkling, bubbling, fizzing over the edge.
“I’m right here, honey.” He whispers, pushing into you a little faster. Your body jolts into his as you suck in quick, shallow breaths.
“Ohgodohgod. Mar-Marcus,” your walls clench tightly around nothing as he hits at your puffy, sensitive clit through your pants at the perfect tempo and pressure.
“Relax, baby. I got you.” He encourages and then you fall apart for him. Your body twitches on its own accord as your orgasm rolls through you for what feels like an eternity.
“That’s it,” he whispers, stilling his hips. “Just take. That’s a good girl.”
You clamp your eyes shut as you reach the top of it. “No, look at me, baby. You’re so beautiful like this.”
Pink flushes your cheeks at his words and the blood that seems to not know where to go in your body. Everything feels like it’s being doused with warm water as you finally come over the edge and the fluttering of your pussy slows.
His eyes dance around your face before he kisses your forehead, and the tip of your nose. You smile into his lips as he places a light and lingering kiss on yours.
“Are you okay?” He says sweetly, pulling back slightly.
“Ya, that’s was…” you search his face for any hint of regret but all you see is admiration. You finish with, “…unexpected, but amazing.”
As he starts to respond, a whipping sound followed by a moan comes from the TV. Both of your heads turn towards it.
“Netflix is suggesting 50 Shades of Grey,” he laughs.
“That’s more of a seventh date thing for me,” you say flatly as his face whips back to you. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction. Both of you now laughing as you sort yourself back out, cuddling into him to find a new movie to “watch” next.
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Taglist:
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @keylimebeag @pimosworld
@casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @jessthebaker
@jasminedragoon @pedroswife69 @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @pedroshotwifey
@mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @untamedheart81
Special tag for @survivingandenduring because I know you share my love of this man.
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eddiernunson · 8 days
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I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+
Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.
Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.
Thanks to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie
I’m astounded at the response to the preview I posted last week. Thank you so much for the love, I hope you enjoy all 40k (20k wtf did my brain go)
-
As you pull up to the little house at the end of the street, you look over to the sweet boy with blonde hair and green eyes nervously, curtaining a strand of hair behind one ear. He shoots you a smirk, white pearly teeth peeking from behind pretty pink lips. The date has gone phenomenally well, the conversation over dinner was easy and your date even easier on the eyes. You smooth your hands over the dress you’re wearing, picking at imaginary lint as you’re entirely unsure of what to say next.
Daniel, your date, leans onto the center console, the scent of his minty breath roping you in. “So, dinner was like, forty dollars.”
Your brows pinch together, the topic of conversation coming from left field.
“And the flowers were about twenty.” He says, his voice hinting at a subtext lost on you.
You think back to the flowers, a cascade of spring colours that drenched you in their floral scent. They sit on your dresser in a vase, waiting eagerly for you to come home.
“Okay…?” You ask, unsure of what he’s getting at.
Daniel sighs, suddenly the frustration you didn’t see before is clear on his face. “Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”
He’s raising his brow suggestively, and the atmosphere in the car turns thick as you realize what he’s referring to. You feel so stupid. Suddenly the smirk on his face isn’t sweet, it’s sleazy. The cologne he’s wearing isn’t earthy, it’s gross. He’s not a good guy, and you feel foolish for thinking otherwise.
You think fast, lowering your eyelashes in a feigned blush. “Actually, I think it deserves just a little more than that. Be right back, I’m going to grab a condom.” You wink as you get out, the cherry on top.
Daniel lights right up, apparently not expecting his ridiculous method to work. The sound of him undoing his belt makes you nearly gag as you run in the front door.
Your dad, the sweetheart of a single father he is, welcomes you with a kind smile until he sees your crestfallen face. “You okay?”
“No,” you choke back, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “He’s demanding I repay him for dinner.”
“Repay?” You tilt your head, inferring what it means. “Oh. Fucking twerp. You need me to–”
“Can I have 60 bucks?” You interrupt him, avoiding his angry eyes.
He melts. “Sure.”
You walk back out the door, head held high right to the little corvette that sits at the end with the cheeky asshole sitting contently, waiting for his treat. The window is still open from earlier in the night, which works right in your favor.
“Here,” you toss the bills at him, allowing a small smile to grace your face at his confusion. “Since you’re so worried about being paid.”
As soon as he understands what you’re telling him, his face curves into a scowl, embarrassed, but too proud to say so. “Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”
Halfway back up to the house, you turn back to the car as the engine growls into the night. How does that make sense? you wonder. Why am I being called a slut when I refused to put out?
The front door to your house slams shut again, and your dad receives the message that you would not like to talk about it. “Ed called just now, by the way,” he mentions as you reach the top of the stairs. Your pause in gait tells him you heard him, but you don’t respond because you can hear the smirk he wears, as much as you repeatedly tell him that Eddie is just a friend.
The flowers you thought so fondly of now have a looming presence in your room, like a dark shadow menacingly waiting in the corner. You ignore them as you lift the pastel phone to your ear, dialing the number you know by heart.
He picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart.” Relief washes over you, instant and comforting.
“Hey, Eds. How was your date?” You and he had the same plans tonight, you just hope it turned out better for him.
“It sucked,” he sighs, sounding like he’s rummaging through his messy chest of drawers. “She didn’t want a date, I guess.”
“Well what did she want?” You ask, going through your own drawers for something comfier to wear.
“Uh, to be shown a good time,” he answers dryly, the sound of rummaging coming to a sudden stop. “Heard the rumors of Munson’s magic fingers and apparently only wanted that.”
Yikes, you think. Eddie’s had many hook ups in the back of his van, but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them. Your heart hurt for him last week when he admitted they rarely, if ever, reciprocated.
You didn’t think it’d be an appropriate moment to tell him you would happily reciprocate for him.
“That’s extremely shitty. Guess it’s not all that different from my date though, who expected payback from spending a lousy sixty bucks.”
“Payback?”
“Asked me to suck his dick and pointed to it,” you say, a million times more bluntly than you could to your dad.
“I knew that Daniel guy was an asshole,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I think our shitty dates deserve each other.”
You laugh, holding the PJs you plan on wearing as you sit cross legged on your bed. “To be honest, I don’t think Daniel would’ve been all that great in bed anyway.”
“I could’ve told you that. He looks like he would call thirty seconds a long time,” Eddie laughs. “Sit tight, princess, I think we’ve earned pancake night at Benny’s.”
“C’mon, I was just about to get comfy!” You whine.
“Nah, wear the pretty dress. It deserves to see a strawberry milkshake, don’t you agree?”
Honestly, a milkshake night with your best friend is exactly what you need. “Sure. See you in twenty?”
“Eh, ten.”
You throw out the flowers, tossing the vase full of water into the kitchen sink, shrugging when your dad gives you an apologetic look. You certainly are already over it, just another asshole in Hawkins, who would’ve thought? When the loud music from Eddie’s stereo pulls up, your dad nods in understanding, telling you to have fun as you leave through the front door.
The date night dress you wear is a summer dress that sits just above your knees, held together by spaghetti straps decorated with pretty blue florals. It's a dress you go to for formal events, and even saw a dance or two back in high school. Of course, you had to dust it off for the cute boy in your Psych class who ended up being a complete dickwad.
The fabric of Eddie’s beat up van is familiar. So familiar that you could argue his passenger seat has a permanent indent from your ass. Eddie has, in fact, pointed it out from one night stoned in the back with him, giggling as you vehemently denied it. At your sudden quiet shut down stature, he patted your ass gently, claiming that he didn’t want any other person’s ass planted on his seat except yours.
That conversation, as hazy as it was, stayed in your mind for days after the fact.
Eddie’s dressed in his own version of a date night outfit, tight jeans exposing his knees with jagged rips under a leather jacket and plain black t-shirt. He’s gorgeous, tauntingly so. It’s not much different from an ordinary outfit, but the faint smell of fresh laundry detergent and his best cologne is the best evidence he’s all dressed up.
The loud music speaks for him, loudly, pulling off before your seatbelt is even clicked into place.
The path from your house to Benny’s is well trekked by you and Eddie on late nights when you should’ve been doing homework but ended up goofing off instead. Martha, a waitress that’s been working there well over twenty years, smiles with smeared red lipstick and too much blue eyeshadow.
You walk in stride with each other, straight to the corner booth as the husk of 20 years of chain smoking barks over the gentle music, “Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”
Shut up, you silently beg her, avoiding either of their eyes as you stare at your lap, seemingly fixated on a loose thread at the hem of your dress.
“Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Eddie winks, throwing his arm behind you on the back of the booth. “We’re just recovering after shitty dates.”
“One day, you two,” she muses, tapping her pen rhythmically on her little notepad. It’s never been the same notepad twice, always decorated with a little cartoon sticker on the front. You’re tempted to run to the dollar store and grab her a larger one, but a part of you thinks she thrives on her many little notepads. “Alright, a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, pancakes with extra strawberry sauce and fresh strawberries on top, and waffles loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles. Correct?”
You nod in unison, both aware that she insists you will collectively rot the teeth out from your gums if you insist on overdosing with sugar every damn time you waltz in late at night. She’s given up offering other menu items, having ordered extra strawberries just to make up for your love of the fruit.
Less than five minutes later, following the blissful sound of a blender, the milkshake is wordlessly dropped off at the table, closer to you as even Martha knows you will be drinking 75% of it. The sweet, pinky taste flows easily down your throat, humming softly as you dip into the whipped cream with a finger. “Best milkshake in town,” You assert.
“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie answers, smirking, “you never let us get a milkshake from anywhere else!”
You giggle, licking some of the whipped cream that found a home in the corner of your mouth. “I could never! It would be like cheating! This milkshake would just know,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “it would smell the other milkshakes on me!”
“We couldn’t have that,” Eddie grins, grabbing the large glass to take a sip. “Sorry your date was such a jerk.”
You shrug, already having gotten over it. You’ll just need to sit on the other side of the lecture hall from now on. “He seemed so nice.”
“No offense, sweetheart, but I could’ve told you that Daniel Moore was a shitty person,” Eddie finishes another sip of the milkshake, making a large dip in the glass as the pink slush is pulled up the straw. “He likes to instigate.”
You rest your chin on your elbow, sad the milkshake is already nearly gone. “I had just hoped he would’ve matured by now…”
“In seven months?” Eddie asks you incredulously, raising his brows past his curly bangs. His expression quickly turns curious, tilting his head at you.
“What?”
“So, you’re willing to bet that Daniel Moore has improved just based on personal speculation alone but you’re not willing to believe me when I say Steve Harrington is no longer a douche?”
You roll your eyes. God, you should’ve seen this one coming. “That’s different! I only heard about Daniel. Steve Harrington actually sat back and laughed when Tommy asked–”
“You out as a joke, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” Eddie mumbles, grinning at your shocked expression. “Well, that was like what, three years ago?”
“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve Harrington now, of all people! Listen, I know he’s also Dustin’s friend, but I find it hard to believe that you guys even have something in common,” You shrug.
“I still can’t believe you refuse to give him another chance!” Eddie playfully retorts, licking some of the whipped cream that still sits on the rim of the glass. “He’s in your Sociology class, isn’t he?”
Yeah, and he seems to insist on forcing his friendship on you, too, no matter how much you resist it. If you found friendship in Eddie, it seems reasonable to find friendship with Steve, too. Yet, there’s a little part that remembers the cruel laughter, his carelessness with others’ lives, and it ripples down your spine in a violent shudder.
You haven’t gotten rid of the notion of being his friend completely, but it’s just not the right time for you, yet.
You shrug. The topic has too much nuance for a nice dinner with your best friend. Just in time, Martha wordlessly drops off the two plates, the smile that spreads across your face is effortless. Zachary, the night chef must’ve heard about the shitty night and added extra for you, because the mountain of strawberries on the table is huge, even for your standards.
Eddie smirks, reading your mind. “You gonna finish all those?”
“Absolutely!”
-
Eddie sits on one side of the open courtyard, flicking off ashes from his cigarette as he waits for you to get out of class. He mentally reflects on his crazy afternoon, taking another long, much needed drag. The car with the million symptoms was one thing, but the proposition he got right before, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.
It’s been 13 days since Daniel, four awkward classes of avoiding his glare, and you’ve decided to give up on boys completely. The one you want doesn’t want you, and the dates you’re going on don’t seem to do well no matter who you say yes to. The two offers you’ve gotten in the last week were therefore denied, realizing that even if they are cute, you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.
Before the aforementioned date, you were practically begging for someone to ask you out, but for some inexplicable reason, now you’re getting offers left and right. Somehow people just know when you’re playing hard to get.
At least Eddie’s dates seem to be going terribly for him, as well. That’s one thing you can thankfully count on.
The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be as gorgeous as it is. It’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”
He flicks the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”
He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”
Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie, this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”
He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”
Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to claw its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.
It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”
A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”
“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”
Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tiled floors and fall into the depths of hell.
“She asked you out?”
“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”
That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per se. But a girl like Chrissy, one with pretty blonde curls, adorable smile and a sweet disposition, it’s like your worst nightmare come true.
Thanks to living in such a small town, you can recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.
This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.
“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, walking in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”
“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”
“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?” You try to keep your tone nonchalant, but bitter jealousy coats your tongue.
Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”
This is also new. Even as his dates would happen, any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this doesn’t become a new habit of his.
“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”
You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you try to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.
Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what will probably be another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.
You smoke more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong hit rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.
-
A weight on your bed suddenly dips down and you sit up quickly to face Eddie sitting on the corner of your mattress with a small smile on his face. Your headphones, still playing the obnoxiously loud music that drowned out his knocks, fall off your head as you sit up. You press the STOP button, clicking loudly in the silence as you stare at your best friend.
The anxiety of his date has eaten you all night long, the only thing strong enough to distract it being music loud enough to hurt your eardrums. You always feel some sort of anxiety, but tonight was even worse, eating at your brain in fear of how painful it might be to be third wheeling with him after being his #1 for so long.
For once, you can’t tell how it went. A slimy, selfish part of you is hoping he shares bad news. His smile breaks. Into a bigger, much brighter beam. Damn.
“How did it go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.
Eddie slams himself onto the bed next to you, hiding his eyes with his hands with his dimples deep, his pearly whites exposed. “Fuck, it was the best date I’ve ever had.”
Your heart shatters. “That good?”
“God, she’s– much better than I thought she could’ve been,” Eddie answers, peeking out from behind his hands. “It’s fucking crazy.”
Of course Chrissy Cunningham, a known sweetheart, is everything he’s ever dreamed of. Of course she lived up to his expectations. Just your luck. “I’m just jealous of your remarkable turn in luck, I guess.”
Eddie chuckles, turning onto his stomach to face you as he kicks his feet. “You’ll have your turn, baby.”
The pet name stings in the worst way. Instead, you raise your brow at him. “Look at you lookin’ like a schoolgirl with a crush. Pretty boy doesn’t even need makeup with all that blush.”
He rolls his eyes, pinching you on the shin. “You’re such a shithead.”
“Yeah, well you still choose to hang out with me anyway, so, that’s on you.” It takes everything in you to ask the following question, “So, tell me about your date, will ya?”
He does. He rattles on and on about how pretty she is, how easy the conversation was, how much she surprised him, how the night ended with a kiss that had Eddie giggling. He lays next to you, leather jacket put aside on the corner chair and boots next to your bunny slippers at the end of your bed. Your small twin mattress has you close in proximity, your side in direct contact with him as he rests his head on his hands.
“She’s such a cool girl, you know?”
You’re half asleep by now, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm the slight ache in your chest. It zaps through your heart, overwhelms your senses and makes you dizzy. Your eyes flutter shut, but Eddie keeps talking softly next to you.
“Why were you blasting your 8-track, anyway?”
The question harshly yanks you out of the haze, failing to think of something that doesn’t seem completely false. You wish you were a better liar. “Just stressed out about your date.”
He gives you a strange look, eyebrows tilted. “Hmm?”
“We both haven’t had a very good track record, lately, and if things won’t turn around for me, then at least they should do one of us a favor.” Not, not the truth, but definitely an over exaggerated version of it.
“You’re so good to me, you know?” Eddie asks, intertwining his hand with yours. “Wasting your anxiety on me.”
The rings are harsh against your skin, squeezing your fingers tightly. The physical hurt is almost comforting in direct contrast to your emotional hurt.
His scent is comforting, as it lures you like the pied piper into the land of sleep. It’s about another twenty minutes until he realizes there are soft snores coming from you. He doesn’t care to drive all the way home, despite it only being a five minute drive away.
He falls asleep to your comforting breaths, allowing your hand to remain engulfed in his.
-
The loud ringing of your phone jerks you awake, quickly crawling to the side of your bed as you grab it from the dock housed on the floor.
“Hello?” Sleep sits deep in your voice, spelling out clearly to your caller that you just woke up.
It just occurs to you that you could’ve just allowed your dad to answer it.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Eddie’s voice is chipper, alarmingly so since you’re not even awake yet.
“You sound way too awake for someone that didn’t believe in waking up before 1pm,” you quip, rubbing your eyes sleepily.
“Ha,” he deadpans, yet it's clear he’s smiling. “Chris wants to meet you. I mean, I know you’ve already met her, but you know, as my girlfriend?”
Ugh. It’s been a harrowing three weeks. “Yeah, sure. What did you want to do with her?”
“I thought we could introduce her to pancake night,” Eddie sheepishly answers, like he knows you would be hesitant to invite someone into your holy ritual.
Yeah. You don’t want to invite her. But…you asked for patience last month and it seemed that the universe has answered with a lovesick Eddie Munson.
“I don’t see why not,” you lie, finding it rolls off the tongue much easier than it used to.
“You’re the best! I’ll see after you study in the library, yeah?” He knows your schedule. On Thursdays after the morning Sociology class, you opt to crawl up into a small corner and hermit yourself with snacks and a pile of books to get the work that needs to be done finished.
In high school, you could get away with doing minimum work and passing, but with your dad paying and barely able to afford it even with his second job, it sent the need to do your work to the best of your ability for once. You owed him at least that much from all the calls of missed classes for four years straight.
“Sure.”
As you stretch while hanging up the phone, you glance over to the alarm clock to see the time and it lurches you forward in bed to scramble for clothes, textbooks, and scattered papers as your lecture starts in less than twenty minutes. You’re usually already sitting in the seat by then.
On your way out the door, your dad is surprised you’re still home, offering to drive you. You don’t want to burden him even more than you already have, so you insist you can ride your bike and still get there on time. Well, at least you hope you can.
The bike rack is nearly full when you get to the college, six or seven locks messily put around the poles, most bikes already fallen over. You jam your bike in between two of them, hurriedly wrangling the annoying coil of sturdy cable between what you’re sure is entangled in someone else’s lock, too. Whatever, they should’ve been more organized.
The clock on the wall tells you class started three minutes ago and your heart falls to your stomach, knowing the professor is a stickler for punctuality. His words falter as soon as you enter the hall, the heavy door echoing its creak against the walls. He graciously allows you to sit and get situated before he continues. He makes examples of every late student, and you figured you would never be in his laser eyed focus. Well, before your alarm decided not to go off.
The last chair available is the corner chair in the front row, the one spot in class you love to avoid. It’s too close for comfort, a place he often chooses for students to answer his questions even if they don’t raise their hand.
That, and it’s right beside Steve Harrington.
His fingers raise from the desk as a greeting, sharing a sweet smile as you start to collect your textbook and notes. You awkwardly smile back at him, your attention snapped back to the professor as he pointedly talks right at your desk in his lecture. Fuck, this’ll be annoying.
By the time the three hour lecture ends, your hand hurts from the amount of notes you wrote down, one side covered in graphite from smudging the paper. Your stomach grumbles, asking loudly for lunch after neglecting to eat breakfast as usual.
Unbeknownst to you, Steve follows a step behind. “That lecture was brutal,” You hear from behind you. You toss your head over your shoulder to glance back at him before turning back around.
“I guess.” You say awkwardly. Here we go again.
“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”
Neither did you. “They’re doing great, from what I hear. Haven’t really met her, yet,” you answer, heading straight to the small cafe that has a home in the heart of the campus. “Listen, Steve, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”
You stop midstep, turning to face him. “It’s not that. I just don’t have the capacity for it, ok?”
“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.
Your jaw drops, stuttering through an empty sentence. “I do not like him!”
“Really?” Steve laughs, crossing his arms as he watches you build a brick wall around yourself. “So you not wanting to talk about his new girlfriend has nothing to do with the way your face fell when I asked about it?”
How the hell did Steve Harrington pick up on it so fast, of all people?
“Even if I did, why the hell would I want to talk about it with someone I don’t even know?” You sigh, looking wistfully over to the cafe. “Besides, I’m not even caffeinated yet.”
Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the said cafe. “Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”
“If you add a wrap to the deal, then I’ll think about it,” You say dryly, pulling a laugh from him.
The barista, a student who you’ve gotten to know is somehow managing to do pre-law and work part time smiles nicely.
“I’ll get a vanilla latte with nonfat milk and an extra pump of vanilla, please.”
Steve raises his brow at you before making his own order, “I’ll get a medium black coffee with room for creamer, please, and whatever this lady wants from the menu.”
You scan until you reach the egg omelet wrap with mushroom, bell peppers, and tomatoes. “The loaded omelet wrap.”
After Steve pays he meets you on the handout counter. “Why nonfat milk and the extra pump of vanilla?”
“If I get nonfat then I can replace the sugar with the extra vanilla.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”
You pick up the cup as it lands on the counter, wincing at the temperature on your tongue. “It works.”
Steve grabs his, shaking his head as he makes his way over to pour some creamer in.
The wrap is soon presented as well, steaming in its cardboard sleeve as the scent alone pools on your tongue with saliva. The only thing that got you through that lecture was just the thought of lunch.
Steve meets you at a two-top by the window, setting his own bag down as he sits right across from you.
The omelet, much too hot to eat, sits waiting for you on the chestnut brown table as you sip on the latte. The latte is much too hot as well, but you’ve never had enough patience to wait for that caffeine kick. If you weren’t so afraid of your professor’s wrath you would’ve shown up another ten minutes late with a coffee cup in hand.
Steve allows you and himself a few minutes of quiet before he speaks. “So, why don’t you tell him?”
You cough mid sip, mentally apologizing to your lungs for allowing non-oxygen to make its way in. “I’m sorry?”
“Stop pretending. Eddie was dead on when he said you were a bad liar,” Steve says, grinning with stupid smirk on his face.
“Why have you and Eddie talked about me?” You ask, narrowing your glance towards him.
“Are you kidding? You’re all he talks about,” Steve shrugs, so nonchalant that you have no choice but to believe him. “Kind of annoying, actually.”
“Why?”
“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”
You huff in laughter at how distraught he genuinely seems by it, his face contorted into someone who definitely isn’t used to rejection. You cock an eyebrow at him. “Can you exactly blame me?”
“Yes! I can! Everybody loves me!” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, and damn it if you can’t help but find it mildly amusing.
“Hate to break it to you, there, sweetheart, but the people who were picked on by you don’t exactly crave to be around your oh-so-wonderful presence.”
He squints, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Picked on? I mean that’s a little harsh, considering–”
“Fine, yes, you didn’t exactly jeer, or outright bully even, but you watched and laughed along and sometimes that feels even worse,” you admit, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “Tommy and Carol said shit, that’s just what they did… But sitting back and watching sometimes is just as bad. You were nice, sometimes, I guess. But the fact that you had that capacity for kindness and chose against it just spoke volumes.”
“I met them in seventh grade. They weren’t as bad back then, mostly just somewhat belligerent. They got worse over time, but we all had terrible home lives, it was like we were the only ones that got what that was like…and somewhere along the way, I forgot that just because we had an excuse didn’t mean they had the right.”
“I guess that makes sense,” you answer, glancing at the omelet, debating taking your first steaming bite. “I mean, I’m not condoning it, but sometimes loyalty can be blinding.”
“I’m not that douche, anymore. I got that knocked out of me when I was seventeen. Literally. Now I spend most of my free time with a high school junior,” he laughs, taking another large sip of his coffee.
“Aah, Dustin,” you hum, thinking of the many instances where he had tried to convince you of what Steve had just told you. What made you so insistent on denying believing in either of your friends seems to dissipate, however, just in the friendliness that Steve radiates alone. Damn his charisma. “Would you believe me if I said he vouched for you many times?”
“The kid loves me, what can I say?” He shrugs, not hiding his laughter. “Now. Back to you. Why not tell him?”
No use in hiding it. If Steve can bare his soul in the middle of the day at a damn cafe just to get you to trust him, you suppose you owed him the same. “‘Cause he doesn’t feel the same,” you answer, starting to peel open the snack from the hunger pang. “Why make it weird when there’s nothing that could come from it?” You shrug, looking down sheepishly as the weight of your words sink into your heart like a stone.
“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.
You hesitate. “Is this a trick question?”
“Nope. I just wonder if you truly believe it, or if you’re too scared to let yourself have something you’ve wanted for so long.”
“Where do you get off on acting like you’re some sort of expert on this?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question rings out from the mere fact that he is dead on the nose. He couldn’t be any more right. The very idea that Eddie had even an inkling of what you had for him scares you to death. You would rather keep him as a friend and lie in wait than lose him from a great love and not have him at all.
“I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he admits, twirling his almost empty coffee cup. “I’ve heard countless hours of Eddie talking about you, yet I haven’t heard him speak once about Chrissy. That says a lot, don’t you think?”
“Well, me neither, and I’m his best friend. Don’t get down on your luck.”
“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”
“You seem to be very convinced of something that is not real,” you tell him, garbled from the bite of omelet you’re in the middle of swallowing. “If you keep this energy up when you’re studying, you would probably do pretty well for yourself.”
“Fine. Remain in denial. I don’t care. You can destroy yourself from the inside. Who cares? Just, let me in. I need someone to help me with these assignments. They are mind numbingly dull.” He throws his hands up like he’s admitting defeat.
“You need a study buddy?” You laugh, hiding the food that sits in between bites. “I suppose that could be arranged.”
“Sweet. Now are you gonna treat me to a coffee every now and then, or?”
“I have a single father, not an unlimited credit card from Daddy’s big business, Steve Harrington.” You say matter-of-factly, jabbing your finger towards him accusingly.
“Oh, so I have to provide the newly released movies and buy the coffee, I see how it is.”
“Privilege breeds responsibility, Stevie. I don’t make the rules.” You give him a half smirk. As you look at him, you’re finally seeing the person you thought could see all those years ago behind the mask of his terrible friends. Steve’s ambush would be the best thing to come out of the next few weeks.
Because it turned into hell.
-
As your hair runs wild behind you, there’s a grand attempt to allow yourself to let the wind distract you from the sinking feeling in your gut. It grows bigger and bigger, until it becomes unbearable as you reach the gravel lining the trailer park. You allow your bike to fall heavily on the trailer, taking a moment to collect your courage before knocking on Eddie’s front door.
It feels weird knocking. You can’t even recall the last time you did. But, you refuse to overstep any boundaries that might not be communicated yet. Being on Chrissy’s good side will make your life a lot easier.
Eddie answers the door, out of breath and sweating with wild eyes and even crazier hair. “Hey!”
“Hey,” you greet, stepping in right behind him. You blink, taking in the pristine surroundings. It’s like stepping into an alternate dimension, one where Eddie and Wayne regularly cleaned their trailer and preferred the smell of lavender over stale beer and greasy pizza boxes. The kitchen is spotless, the living room has a lit candle sitting on the coffee table, and the shelves containing the million mugs were dusted. “Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend?” You laugh.
He chuckles sheepishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as protection. “Uh, is it too much?”
“Better warn her now so she doesn’t get used to cleanliness,” you answer, watching as the surfaces around you sparkle and shine.
“Ha, ha. I have to get dressed. I have some snacks on the kitchen counter. You mind starting the popcorn?” Eddie doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer, already walking to his room.
You get a glimpse of his bedroom as he shuts the door behind him, smirking at the clothes still scattered on his floor. At least one part of this little haven of yours remains normal.
The popcorn shakes in your hold as you continually stir it on the stove to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the thin aluminum bottom and burning. Just as the first batch of kernels reach their limit, a knock from the front door hits, each one feeling like a crack in any normalcy you’ve ever had.
Things will never feel the same ever again. Not after tonight. On your way to open the door you try to tell yourself that it can be a good thing.
Right?
The door opens to the once head cheerleader of Hawkins High, wearing a pink dress that fits her tiny frame nicely with blonde curls and bangs that beautifully frame her face. Her hands are folded behind her back, standing meekly in white sneakers and long lashes and blue eyeshadow. It’s hard not to be envious of how pretty she is.
It’s clear she’s not expecting you to open the door. “Hey! Sorry, Eddie’s just in his room. He should be out any minute.”
“Oh. Ok,” she enters as you back up, wringing her hands together, probably out of anxiety. “What movie did he rent?”
“You know, I was so busy making fun of him for cleaning up for once I didn’t bother to ask,” you admit, hoping to make the atmosphere just a little bit lighter.
She looks around the place, seemingly taking it in. “Hmm,” she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”
“Sure,” you answer, walking back to the kitchen, hoping the popcorn isn’t irredeemably burnt. “Do you want butter on the popcorn?”
“Yes please!”
You’re in the middle of mentally begging Eddie to come out already while the butter melts in the microwave, the hum of the microwave loud in the silence.
“Okay! I’m ready!” Eddie announces, opening the bedroom door with a flourish. “Sorry for the wait!”
As he gets to the couch behind Chrissy, he wraps her in a big hug and plants kisses all over her neck. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”
You hold back the nausea as you pour the hot butter all over the popcorn in the large plastic bowl. You find it ironic that this is the same bowl you’ve held back Eddie’s hair over as he hurled into it. You just hope Wayne thoroughly cleaned it.
“Popcorn is ready, can y’all help me bring the chips and candy?” You ask, shaking the bowl to coat the butter over each kernel.
“We can do that,” Eddie answers, grabbing Chrissy’s hand as they walk to the kitchen.
“How can I help?” Chrissy asks, arms open as she looks around a kitchen she has no familiarity with.
“Um there’s some soda in the fridge, grab me and Ed a Coke, and you can grab yourself whatever you want,” you answer, pointing to the twenty year old fridge in the corner.
“Hand me some,” you command, holding a single hand for one of the many bags of snacks Eddie juggles.
The popcorn and a couple dozen little bags land on the coffee table in front of a blank tv screen. Chrissy sits with a soft grunt in between the two of you, cradling the cans of coke and sprite in her tiny arms.
She distributes the cans, handing them over to you and him. Eddie squats in front of the TV, pressing play on the tape which he apparently already prepared to watch. His plaid boxers peek out of his jeans, sitting above the studded belt as he adjusts volume and picture.
You share a smile with the blonde, opening your can and wincing at the loud hiss. You keep thinking about the days you and Chrissy will look back on how awkward this was. How the first days of this trio were so weird, and off putting, and how she thought you were a bitch when she met you.
Where she’s a friend.
You have to try.
“What are we watching?”
Eddie turns around slowly, that over exaggerated smile on his face that tells you he’s up to nothing but trouble. “Oh just a little somethin’”
“Oh god,” you wince, knowing that look on his face. You lean into her, whispering, “Hope you like horror.”
Chrissy turns to you with wide eyes and a queasy smile. “Not really.”
“Oh, this one is a classic,” Eddie promises, animatedly using his hands as he crouch-walks back next to her. “If any movie can turn someone into a horror fan, it’s this one.”
As soon as the music starts playing you recognize it. It’s a tune you’ve heard many times in his living room, subjected to it too many times if you had anything to say about it. Of course, you’ll watch it with him every time, regardless.
“Halloween? Seriously? The serial killer stalking the babysitter? You couldn’t think of anything else?” You roll your eyes. He could probably do a whole reenactment of the movie word for word if he tried.
“It’s a classic for a reason, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you, grabbing the bowl straight away. Of course, he will rip through the popcorn, he always does.
You feel Chrissy tense up, not that you can blame her. You suppose a talk about proper pet names will be necessary.
Each bag of snacks is eventually opened because you can’t stick to one bag long enough to finish it even if you tried. You get bored of the same taste too often. You have your favorite few, fuzzy peaches, M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, Swedish fish, and last and most controversially, at least where Eddie’s concerned, salt and vinegar chips.
He always has his own snacks at his disposal from nights of having the munchies, always on a dollar store run for said snacks. At each movie night he restocks, both yours and his alike, and suddenly you realize you will need to remember Chrissy’s too, if you’re going to be cordial.
With each bloody death that splatters the walls on screen, Chrissy grows closer and closer to Eddie. There’s a part of you that has considered using scary movies to cuddle up to him, but you’re just not genuinely scared of them enough to consider it. The ruse would’ve faded eventually. You try not to let the jealousy eat you up from the inside, no matter how much it burns your skin.
His arm wraps around her, petting her shoulder gently as she whimpers at the slash of his knife. “It’s corn syrup. Totally fake. You can tell by the color, it’s way too bright.”
Towards the end, the loud, chirpy, nauseating sound of kissing fills your ears. Your eyes can’t help it, they move towards the noise and immediately regret it. Oh god, they’re kissing. If you can even call that kissing. He’s practically engulfed her mouth.
Surely, with the company they have, they’ll stop, right? Their heads will remember and sheepishly get the fuck off each other? Right?
Two scenes and what feels like forever, later, you realize how wrong you are. “I’m glad you two are crazy for each other, really I am, but can we please wait until I’m gone?” You give an awkward laugh to try to stifle the discomfort coursing through your veins.
Eddie makes a surprised sound, almost like he completely forgot you were there. “Shit–sorry.”
Chrissy doesn’t make any apologies, in fact, you miss the way she rolls her eyes against his chest. She wanted to keep going, hoping you would take her hint to get lost.
Before long, the end of the movie finally arrives, the end credits rolling with that famous piano tune. Chrissy has practically stitched herself to Eddie’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist. The popcorn bowl is nearly full. All that work on it for nothing.
You sigh, about to claim that it’s your cue to leave when–
“I’m thinking we should show Chrissy one of our pancake nights, don’t ya think?”
No. You don’t want that. From the way Chrissy completely tenses up, neither does she. But for his sake, you both reluctantly agree.
Hawkins looks a lot different from Eddie’s backseat.
As the ring of the bell against the glass door announces your arrival, Martha’s head snapping up from the magazine she’s buried her nose in. “Hey you two, I was wondering when I would see you again!”
You and Eddie walk directly to the corner booth, as per usual, Chrissy trailing a half step behind him with her left hand intertwined with his right. Before Martha walks up to the booth, she starts the blender, the sound oddly comforting for how uneasy you feel.
“Well, looks like we got ourselves a little straggler! What’s your name darlin’?” She asks, the notebook she now holds a dark purple instead of the red she had last time.
Chrissy stares blankly at her, curling back into him. You don’t remember her being this shy in High School.
“This is Chrissy,” Eddie introduces her, giving her a fond look. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Martha’s penciled brows raise straight to her ruby red hair, the chewing gum loud in her silence. Her surprise only lasts two seconds, shifting into hospitality for the new member. “Welcome to these two’s many, many nights spent here at Benny’s. In fact, could you make them come a little less often. We’re starting to get annoyed at them.” She jokes, throwing a wink at you.
You laugh with Eddie, taking note of the fact that Chrissy is still silent.
“Alright, well I already know what these two want, did you need a second to look over the menu?”
She nods.
“Alright, well, I’ll be right back with your milkshake.”
“Can you make it one medium, one large with two straws?” You ask Martha, sure it would get more awkward if she brought one for you and Eddie to share.
“Oh, sure,” she answers, her voice unusually soft.
Less than five minutes later she returns with two milkshakes and a menu.
“Oh,” Chrissy comments, looking curiously at the pink ice cream drink in front of her. “I don’t really like strawberry. Can I get vanilla instead?”
Your forehead meets the table, punishing yourself. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to ask.” Eddie apologizes.
“It’s fine.” Chrissy smiles sweetly at him.
“Oh, you gotta eat breakfast, it’s tradition,” Eddie mutters, switching her page to the all day breakfast menu.
“Hmm,” she responds, pointing to one of the menu options. “I think I’ll get the poached egg with the avocado toast.”
“Alright. Should be out quickly,” Martha answers, grabbing the milkshake from them.
“How often do you guys come here?” Chrissy asks, turning her face to Eddie.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably more often than we should. Like when shit goes sideways, or we need a hit of sugar, or when we just feel like bugging Miss Martha, over there.”
“When did you start coming?”
“My junior year,” you answer, smiling at the memory, “his second attempt at senior year, we both didn’t want to go to the stupid school dance, so we decided to get dressed up and come here, instead.”
“Why didn’t you want to go?”
Eddie shrugs, petting her shoulder with his thumb. “We thought it was dumb. Then, we ened up coming back when both of us failed this one really important bio test. Then, by the third time she remembered our orders and had the blender going by the time we sat down.”
Eddie asks how your day was, so you inform him you managed to have a civilized conversation with Steve Harrington. You have an audience for the conversation, one member animatedly interested, the other politely listening.
Polite is definitely the way to describe it, no spark in her eye. At least, not the one she wears when she listens to her boyfriend speak. In fact, you can practically see them glaze over.
Just as you nearly avoid explaining the main topic of the awkward conversation, Martha comes back over with two plates, one for you, one for Chrissy. It’s only half a moment until she’s back with the new milkshake and third plate.
The mountain of strawberries is bigger than average this time, this larger size becoming something you might get used to if the staff continues to spoil you like this. You take another flick of whipped cream from the top of the milkshake, suddenly realizing you’ve barely taken a sip the entire time. Damn, it’s usually half gone by the time you get your food.
“Do you guys order the same thing everytime?” Chrissy asks, looking at both of your plates.
“Yup!” You exclaim, spreading the strawberry sauce around your plate.
Her blonde brows furrow. “Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,” she comments, cutting at her squishy green toast. It doesn’t look appetizing to you in the least.
“It’s not like we come here every night,” Eddie laughs, spreading his sprinkled whip around the fluffy waffle. “It’s fine to indulge every now and then, you know?”
“Maybe you guys should try something a little healthier?” Chrissy asks, her voice having what you think is a little bit of a bite in it.
“People don’t exactly come here to eat healthy, Chrissy,” you laugh, thinking of the menu item called Heart Attack Jack, which is a burger doused in American Cheese with layers of bacon and a bucket of grease. It’s not going to be a soccer mom’s number one choice for health.
“You don’t have to bite my head off, it was just a suggestion,” Chrissy mutters, curling into herself.
“I-I didn’t,” you reply, very surprised at her knee jerk reaction. “I’m just saying, if we wanted to go somewhere to eat healthy, we probably wouldn’t pick a greasy diner in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m not sure anywhere in Hawkins really has the healthiest choice.”
“Chris, what she’s trying to say is that eating a crap load of sugar is just tradition at this point,” Eddie says, intertwining her hand with his. “It’s a part of our ritual. You don’t have to eat like us if you don’t want to, we just thought you’d want to be included.”
“It’s just a lot of sugar, is all.” She’s barely taken a chunk out of her food, resembling a bunny in the very small, very tiny bites she continues to take. “Maybe I won’t join you guys next time. I don’t really understand the point.” She says sheepishly.
In the depths of your soul, you feel at that moment you would probably never get along with her, have given up hope on her completely. It wouldn’t be for a handful of weeks until you acknowledge that you had sound reasoning.
The bill is paid, money hitting the table on your and Eddie’s parts, the vanilla milkshake just barely touched. If you knew she wasn’t gonna drink it you would’ve doubled down on the strawberry, Eddie hates vanilla.
As you walk out to the van, trailing behind them as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, you find yourself at an impasse. “Eddie, can you give me a ride home?” Chrissy asks. She moves on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”
The pancakes you wolfed down churn back up your throat, threatening to make their second appearance for the night.
Eddie’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he tugs her in. Guess that answers that question. “Um, do you need a ride?” He asks you, almost avoiding your eyes.
Chrissy’s death stare is plain as day, silently warning you not to take it. Fine, you didn’t want to sit in the van with these two, anyway.
“No, it’s fine. I can grab my bike from the back.”
Chrissy beams, her curls bouncing as she jogs to the passenger seat. You hope your ass imprint is uncomfortable for her.
Eddie returns with the bike, putting it gently down in front of you. “Hey, Ed?”
“Hmm?”
“Might want to teach your girlfriend how to whisper,” you tell him, grabbing the handles from him. “It’s not considered a whisper when everyone in a ten foot radius can hear!” It comes out harsher than you intend it, but with how horribly tonight has gone, you can’t bring yourself to want to apologize.
“Oh, fuck,” Eddie swears, the pink in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t mention it,” you insist, dismissing it. You had a feeling she said it loud enough for you to hear on purpose, anyway. “Just use protection, ok? We don’t need any more Munsons in this world running around, creating chaos.”
If you got Chrissy pregnant I would actually be sick, is what you mean.
“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, wrapping you in a hug over the bike. “See you next time, slugger.”
That was when you changed from sweetheart to slugger.
-
There’s no whiplash like discovering your best friend is a completely different person when he’s in a relationship. On one hand, phone calls with him are as ordinary as always, teasing and jeering and flush with the familiarity of a best friend.
On the other hand, when you meet with him and his girlfriend, he seems to dampen his wild personality and slice it into ribbons for her sake. It kills you.
Reruns play on the small tv, old cartoons Wayne recorded for a rambunctious little kid in his mix. You’ve watched them enough to know some of them by heart, especially your favorite gags.
Eddie sits in the corner of the couch, curled up with Chrissy on his lap as they talk quietly. They’re low enough you can barely make out what they’re saying, but from the giggles alone, you have no interest in the nausea it would give you.
She was already in his lap when you got there, a sarcastic comment choked back having something to do with maybe getting off, opting to sit on the other end.
“Oh, Ed, the movie is next Friday,” you remind him, taking another sip of the ice cold coke in front of you.
“Remind me what that was?” Eddie asks you, peering his chin over Chrissy’s head.
You narrow your eyes, scoffing in incredulousness. “Uh, hello? I did not wait in line for hours for the Princess Bride just for you to forget!”
“OH, fuck I didn’t realize that was coming up so quickly!” Eddie exclaims, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, shit I’ll make sure to free my oh-so-busy schedule!”
“Sweet.”
“Oh, I totally wanted to see that movie!” Chrissy chirps, sitting up in Eddie’s lap. “Are there any more tickets for the night you guys are going for?”
“It’s been sold out for weeks,” you shrug, chomping on a potato chip. “I stood in line for like six hours that morning.”
“Oh,” she mutters, curling into him.
You wish you could say it doesn’t give you great pleasure to know she won’t be able to crash your movie night.
“You think, uh,” she starts, turning around to face you. “You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”
You scoff, bewildered that this even crossed her mind. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean, I really wanted to see it and it doesn’t really make sense for you two to go out for a date, now that he’s dating me…”
“I think you forgot the part where I stood in line for six hours to get these tickets,” you reply, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He’s avoiding you.
“And I’m sure we’ll all go next time!” She offers as an almost smug smile plays at her lips.
She can’t be serious. After watching her face, you realize she is fully expecting you to give up your ticket so she can go with him. Guess that Iron Maiden concert coming up this summer is off the table, too, you think, rubbing your eyes tiredly.
You look at him, waiting for him to say something to indicate how ridiculous his girlfriend is being, to stand up for you.
Oh. He’s not going to.
“I really don’t see the big deal.” Chrissy scoffs.
Of course you don’t. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you my damn ticket!” you snap. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”
Which is ridiculous, Eddie was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place. It looked like it was about adventure, something Eddie loves in movies. You decided then sure, since his birthday is right after the movie comes out, you’ll stand in line for the tickets then treat him to a fun movie night.
If Chrissy is uncomfortable with that, then that’s her prerogative, but she can choose something else to do with her boyfriend since she wants to so badly. You won’t let her walk all over you.
Chrissy doesn’t answer, but she’s clearly upset by yours. “It’s alright, babe,” Eddie hums, tugging her up against his chest so she curls into him. “I can wait until it comes out. We’ll just rent it, yeah?”
You’re not sure which makes you more nauseous, the fact that he just made a plan with her that won’t come to fruition for six months, or that he had nothing to say in the conversation.
You’ve never felt so unwelcome on his couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you later.”
Whatever comes out of Eddie’s mouth then falls on deaf ears as you fight the tears that irrationally threaten to spill over your water line. They’re stupid, your emotions are stupid, the movie is stupid.
-
Steve sits on the other side of the light brown table in the library, hunched over some notes as you explain the concept to him once more.
“Ugh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to forget this as soon as we learn it,” Steve whines, rubbing his eyes.
“Well you’re only taking Sociology because you haven’t claimed a major yet and sociology is required in most degrees.”
“That’s true,” he smirks, stretching his arms. “This still is all starting to look like gibberish. I get it, we live in a society in which the rules are not in our favor, why does that have to be studied to this intent?”
You shrug. “It’s fascinating.”
“To who?”
You roll your eyes, wondering how he grew on you like a weed. “Alright, we’ll take a break, then.”
“Any plans upcoming for next Wednesday?”
“Uh, no, at least not that I’m aware of,” you answer, putting your highlighter down. “We were supposed to see the movie for it, but, well you know how that turned out.”
“I’m sure there’s something he’s planning,” Steve assures, tapping his pencil rhythmically. “It’s not like him to not make a spectacle of his birthday.”
That, you agree with.
“Dustin said he hasn’t heard anything about it, either. He almost planned a surprise party for him. You think he’s just taking it easy this year?”
You doubt it, he’s turning 21, after all. Not like hasn’t been going to bars since he was fifteen, but now at least he’d be able to go into a major city with his real ID without getting flagged. Last year he prattled on about plans for this one, how he was gonna have a big rager at Steve’s and drop a whole paycheck on kegs.
You’re sure if he was going to do anything in those next two days, then he would’ve told you by now.
That Wednesday morning, you rise early to the sound of your alarm.
The kitchen counter is already filled with the ingredients you need, preparing for a labor of love. You hook your Walkman to your jeans, listening to the music blaring in your ears as you add one ingredient at a time, watching the batter slowly come to shape.
It’s familiar, your mom’s famous homemade recipe for cake batter. After missing her many cakes and the familiarity of her food, you finally searched for the cards containing her neat print, clearly and concisely telling the reader what her recipes needed.
It became your favorite thing to do when you missed her.
As you pour the batter into each divet in the tray, you recall the first time you thought to make a birthday cupcake for Eddie.
Neither of you cared much for first period, so it was easy to catch him before he woke up. That day you presented a vanilla cupcake with a swirl of black and blue frosting. You learned that morning he hates vanilla.
Every other instance of making him a cupcake has been a litany of flavors, but never vanilla.
As they bake, you whip up the frosting with a hand mixer, hoping the low hum doesn’t wake your father. He works so hard already. Red food coloring turns it from white, the process all too satisfying.
A plastic sandwich bag with the corner cut off is always just enough for you to pipe frosting on, the skilled hand you’ve trained after trial and error working fast.
Your dad always knows on February 19th he will wake up to 11 cupcakes on a big plate.
The pastry sits in a comically large container as you borrow your dads truck, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as you climb the stairs to the Munson’s front door.
You balance the cupcake in your hand as you head straight down the hall towards Eddie’s room. The sounds filling the trailer take a moment to register, for some reason not realizing how quiet it should be on an early weekday morning. The only sounds should be that of an early bird or newspaper hitting the front door.
Dread finds home in your stomach, as if on a very instinctual level you realize what you’re hearing. Though for some crazy, masochistic reason, those instincts wanted to be sure.
His door, wide open, reveals him hunched over Chrissy with the blanket barely covering his broad shoulders as he’s rocking. He’s rocking…and oh, you can hear her, too.
She’s moaning, whining, clawing her nails up his back like a leech, or worse, a tick, digging itself in and refusing to give up the tight hold they have on their victim.
Your mind goes empty, numb, until you hear her faintly wish him a happy birthday. You blink yourself out of the trance, blindly stumbling back into the fresh air of the living room. The cupcake lands on the kitchen counter on your way out the door, not caring as it slams behind you, definitely alerting Eddie and Chrissy of the third unknown presence in the trailer.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to even care about it, the queasiness deep rooted in your stomach threatening to make itself known on the outside plants.
You have a class in less than an hour, something you need to continue into the second year of your Communications degree, but not something that requires brain power.
The simple question of how you managed to ride your bike all the way to the campus, take notes in your class and blindly walk over to the library will always escape you. You somehow watch yourself go through the motions until you meet Steve at the cafe.
The moment he sees you, he knows something is wrong just by the deadened stare that’s taken over your face.
When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.
You’re in love with your best friend. And while you’re doing your best to be happy for him, your poor heart can’t handle it.
-
The cupcake isn’t mentioned until you call him two days later, still heartbroken, but missing his voice. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, despite the great ache that makes each and every day fuzzy.
Usually, more than half the cupcakes get eaten by him, which is why a dozen are made each year. There’s still more than half left, the very sight of the cupcakes depleting your appetite as his continued absence carves a bigger and bigger hole in you.
He answers on the fifth ring, sounding as if he’s in the middle of rummaging through items in some way, slightly out of breath. “Hey, Chris, sorry I can’t find–”
You swallow the pain. Maybe the lump of pain swallowed in your stomach will finally evict itself like the contents of stomachs should. Yet, the more you throw it up, the more it seems to gather. How does that work? “It’s me.” You say dryly, tiredly.
“Shit,” he breathes, the background noise coming to a sudden halt. “Hey, you.”
“Hey. How was the cupcake?”
“The mysterious appearing pastry was delicious as always, slugger.” Slugger. “What-what time did you drop it off?”
You know that he knows that you heard something. He doesn’t know how much you heard, but he knows the slam of his front door was you.
“I didn’t hear much. Just enough to know you had already received your birthday present for the year,” the attempt at humor doesn’t hit you very well. You’re not sure how it’s received, but Eddie laughs regardless.
“Sorry about that, she slept over the night before unplanned. I should’ve remembered your yearly morning cupcake.”
“Should’ve remembered you have a girlfriend,” you answer, wishing you had that better judgment. “Did you do anything for your birthday?”
“Chris took me out for dinner with her parents.” Honestly, that sounds like it was for her more than it was for him.
“Sounds fun,” you deadpan, earning earnest chuckles from him.
“They’re an acquired taste,” Eddie offers, allowing your slight criticism of his birthday party.
“You sure you still don’t want to go to Indianapolis and bar hop?” You can’t help but ask. It’s like you can hear his reluctance to accept the celebration he got.
“Nah. Besides, we can’t risk your fake ID, after all.” He pauses, an understated sigh passing through his breath. “How has school been?”
Small talk is not often something that passes through a conversation between you two. You’re aware of it, he’s aware of it, and it turns the conversation into something almost jilted.
“I miss you,” you admit, lying back on your bed.
“I miss you,” he parrots, soft and sweet.
“Can we do something? Just you and me?”
He chuckles, low and under his breath. “Sure. Pancake night. Just you, me, and Martha’s perfume.”
…that never happened.
-
The less you see Eddie, the more you end up hanging out with Steve. He seems to want to introduce you to his own best friend, but your admission of not wanting to be a third wheel again gets him to drop it. You can’t help but notice the only times you speak to Eddie are when you call him. He hasn’t called you since asking for Chrissy to join pancake night.
That alone wouldn’t entirely convince you to not call him anymore. The jilted conversations always ending with promises of time with one another never coming to fruition. It’s the equivalent of being skinned alive, one strip at a time.
Steve has watched the circles under your eyes darken, the enthusiasm in class deplete, and the lust for life dissolve before his very eyes. To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.
Yet, Steve knows how unlike Eddie it all is. Dustin has complained he hasn’t been called back for a long time, Gareth reached out to you asking if you’d heard from Eddie lately as they haven’t rehearsed for a while. He garners more concern than anger at times.
Steve’s living room has become a new choice of hang out space, but the unnatural cleanliness of the house, the lack of cologne that both Eddie and Wayne use, the familiarity of eight years of friendship, it gives this unrelenting feeling of emptiness. It’s worth trying to fill it with edibles and weed.
It doesn’t seem to work, but you’ve become more open, more free willing with him as a direct result. He doesn’t favor horror movies like you and Eddie, but you find common ground in action and slapstick comedy, instead. Anything but romcoms, you implore. Anything even close to resembling romance is rejected.
Steve spills the latest he heard from Hawkins’ elite country club group, a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do with their afternoons than spread rumors about the population as a whole and judge them for it. Steve knows for a fact which members of the country club have side women, bringing them in hours after walking in with their own wives.
It’s so nice to be concerned with the lives of others and to not care about yours falling apart at the seams. Well, really it's being ripped apart by Chrissy Cunningham’s greedy little claws.
Ironically enough, you get paired up with Steve for a major assignment in Soc class, one required to analyze social constructs that have been deep dived in class. Another little gift of irony is you were given Social Stratification, which is the hierarchical arrangement of individuals or groups within a society based on various factors such as wealth, power, and prestige.
Being from two very different classes, you and Steve find yourself uniquely qualified to discuss the topic.
It provides opportunities to hang out together, distracted by the collective want to not work at all, but driven by an looming due date. Your mind wanders to Eddie non stop, wondering how he is, if he’s ok, if work is still giving him a hard time, did he finally get the belt he was needing, if Wayne was taking it easier.
Your fingers itch for the phone to call and ask, always haunted by the memory of each phone call, the polite conversation and empty promises. You crave to remember what it was like before.
Steve seems to act as your voice of reason, disencouraging you every time you mention wanting to call him. He sympathizes, of course, but he recalls the last time you called him and the aftermath following it.
When the assignment is finally in the last stages, making final edits to clear up any loss in conciseness, the final second guesses if the point has been made clear, you sit on the floor of Steve’s room cross legged, going cross eyed as you reread it, again.
“I can’t wait for this thing to be handed in,” you groan, throwing your pen at him.
“I think we earned a celebration,” he sighs, throwing the pen back to you. “On Friday, after we finally hand over this paper to this asshole, I am throwing a big ass party in your honor.”
“A party will not make me feel better,” you reprimand, glancing at him under your brows.
“No, but a good excuse to drink the pain away, might,” he grins, leaning forward on his stomach and kicking his legs animatedly. He looks so innocent, as if he doesn’t have his own agenda. You’ve come to know him well enough that he really doesn’t. “C’mon. Let loose with me just for one night!”
You reluctantly agree to it after he pulls out his dumb puppy eyes.
News of Steve’s party spreads fast across campus, and you find yourself curiously excited for it when you usually dread dancing with complete strangers. The strangers at this point make it better, not needing to concern yourself with anything other than how the alcohol burns.
Your dad drives you to the party, the rain heavy on the pavement making it hard to bike in such weather. He’s noticed the way you’ve shut down a little bit as of lately, more than happy to bring you to a party if it means putting some life back into the eyes of his one and only daughter.
When you enter the door with slightly damp hair just from the walk from the truck, the party is already in full swing, music overtly loud, bodies bumping and dancing, empty cups already scattered on dusty surfaces.
As soon as you see Steve, he waves you over, talking to Robin, who he’s introduced you to. She became your friend the same way he became your did; ambush. Turns out, Robin is really cool. She hands you a beer, winking as you tilt your eyebrow out of skepticism.
“Beer, really?” You ask over the music, turning the bottle around in your hand.
“You’re drinking to forget, right?” She asks, an air of wisdom in her scratchy voice. “Then what does it matter what it tastes like?”
Well, you guess she’s right. You grab another from the fridge while you’re at it before they lead you to a couch. It’s surrounded by a crowd of people you mostly have never met before, more than happy to laugh with them at the particularly stupid topics of conversation.
You’re already pretty buzzed less than an hour spent at the party, having asked Steve to get you a third bottle. “Might wanna slow down, sweets.”
“I’m drinking to forget, remember?” You ask him, winking cheekily.
Time starts to meld together as the bottle gets emptier and emptier. Robin grabs you by the hand to dance with her and Steve in a circle, top 40 pop acting as a soundtrack while you forget any goddamn trouble that might have plagued you.
You’re chatting about some mindless gossip when something tells you to turn your head towards the door. The door opens to Eddie and Chrissy, holding hands as they look around the party that got even rowdier since your arrival.
Eddie’s eyes meet yours, frozen in place as the emptiness his absence has left consumes you.
“Oh shit,” Robin mutters right next to you, but you don’t answer it as you stumble your way into the kitchen.
The internal debate on whether you need to drink water or more alcohol is roaring, so you drown it with more alcohol. Maybe you can shut it up. It’s too fucking loud. The ajar door opens and closes, a presence in the kitchen you don’t bother acknowledging. You don’t smell Eddie’s cologne, the momentary disappointment flooding your senses that he saw you and didn’t even bother talking to you.
Another sip. Another gulp. Make it go away.
“I was wondering when I would run into you,” it’s not Eddie, or Steve. Confusion takes over you as you wonder which male voice in your life you’re forgetting, turning to face the culprit.
Daniel.
“Here I am, I guess,” you mutter, taking another swig. “What exactly do you want?”
“Retribution.”
“Huh?”
He laughs, cruel and blunt. “I’m here for what I’m owed, sweetheart. I don’t get told no. Girls don’t say no to me. So, I think I’m owed some payback for the humiliation you put me through.”
What the fuck?
The laughter that leaves your throat is loud and abrupt, clearly not what he’s expecting. “Oh my fucking god, you’re just delusional. Girls don’t owe you shit for buying them dinner! You ask us out for a date, that’s on you, bud!”
“I don’t fucking think so,” he growls, slinking in closer. You can smell his breath, he’s clearly been drinking. “I will get what I want, I always do.”
Panic floods your brain, suddenly realizing he’s being dead serious. “Wait–” you protest as he leans in, the wall and your back colliding harshly. “Wait, no–”
“All you had to do was blow me, baby,” he chides, as if he’s reprimanding a small child. His hand harshly wraps around your waist, preventing you from weaving from between him and the wall. “Now look what you made me do.”
You try to push him off, panic continuing to push up your throat as he proves himself much stronger than you. Oh god, am I about to get raped in Steve’s kitchen?
His hand feels slimy as it pushes past your shirt, sending a jolt of shivers down your body. You’re shaking from fear, one cheek against the wall as you continue to resist him. “Stop– Daniel, please stop–” Your voice is frantic, eyes wide in terror as you try to push his hands away.
The harsh laughter directed at your pleas are cut off, an incredibly familiar voice slicing the air with malice. “She said stop.”
The heat you were surrounded by is thrown off, leaving the cold air behind Daniel to overwhelm you as he’s thrown onto the floor.
Blows of fists on flesh fill the room, watching in horror as Eddie has him pinned, delivering blow after blow to his face. You only see a portion of Eddie, his dark jeans and leather jacket as he hunches over his victim and blindingly delivers one punch after the other. Daniel has stopped fighting back, just a limp set of limbs as it jumps from each hit.
When Eddie has shown no signs of letting up you’re forced to jump into action, stumbling as you run into his line of eyesight. “Eddie, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You plead.
The sounds of brutal fists on soft flesh die immediately, Eddie huffing as he rises to his feet. “You okay?”
You blink as his hands frame your cheeks, petting them softly with his hands. A tear falls, splashing his hand. His concern is comforting, but the direct juxtaposition of his concern from the silence he’s fed you the last few weeks washes over you, confusing every emotion that has been hurting.
Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”
He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You wander back over to the fridge, grabbing a beer from the second six pack you’re working through. You pop it open from the mounted bottle opener, taking a handful of sips. “You’re kidding me, right? You haven’t called me in weeks. Weeks.”
He stands there, blankly watching.
“I might be more forgiving if it weren’t for Dustin and Gareth and hell, Steve also saying the same thing. None of them have heard from you. You went from calling at least once a week to radio silence! I wanted to get along with Chrissy. I really did. I started all the conversations, offering snacks, asking questions about her, letting her set her boundaries, but she had something to say about everything we did together!”
Eddie stutters, blinking as he watches you talk. He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t try to defend himself. You don’t give him the chance.
“She clearly doesn’t respect you, otherwise you would still be my best friend and I would remember the last time we had a normal fucking conversation. I get wanting boundaries, but at this point, I don’t think she even wants you to have friends! Is that what you want? A girl who makes you make yourself smaller for her sake and isolate completely? Really? Because that’s what you have. No horror movies? No more junk food? No heavy metal music? She’s making you shrink yourself so she deems you desirable! Fucking– I can’t watch it anymore.”
“Wait, what do you mean–” he’s interrupted by the door closing, a yelp filling the room as Chrissy runs to him.
“What happened to your fists?” You glance down to them, seeing bruises lining his knuckles.
“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders.
“Alright. Well. I meant exactly what I said. I can’t do this one sided friendship thing with you anymore,” you take another swig, wondering how the bottle was already so light. “I can’t. Call me when you find my best friend, because I haven’t seen him in three months.”
You leave the room, ignoring the calls from his mouth that suffocate you. As you stumble into the living room, you catch Steve’s eye right away, chin trembling. The hot tears that trail down your face have already drenched your cheeks by the time you realize it’s even happening, choking on the emotion that drowns you.
Steve guides you into the guest bathroom, closing the door as he watches you attempt to stop the sobs long enough to tell him what happened.
“I think–” you hiccup, sniffling loudly, “I think I just lost my best friend–” tears rattle through you once again, just saying it out loud feels like lightning in its startling ability to shatter you once more.
By the time the sobs diminish again, you’re sat on the floor by the tub, head sitting in his lap as he pets your hair. You sit up suddenly, mid hiccup as you give Steve an odd look.
He almost asks if you’re okay when you spill over his lap, whimpering between gasps as you know what you’re doing, the toilet only a foot away, but it continues to explode from your stomach.
“I’m so sorry,” you explain, tears falling again, as he sits in shock.
He grins sadly, undoing his belt. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”
He finds someone, Robin, to grab him a second pair of pants, ditching the ruined pair in the bathtub.
The dry heaving seems to stop the tears, now staring blankly with a wet face and lashes that stick together. Steve brings you upstairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brings you to his bedroom.
As your head hits his pillow your eyes fall closed, mumbling something about fucking up, about three months ago.
Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.
From how your sobs shook your body, he might give him the whole thing.
-
The light cascading through the blinds hurts, like a dagger through your brain as you take in your surroundings. You don’t know how you got into Steve’s room under his blanket.
As soon as you sit up, the pain stabs you, pushing you back down. Ow. You don’t even attempt to get up again until the urge to pee hits you, when it’s too much to ignore. You rub your eye, tip toeing to try to get back under the dark blue comforter decorating Steve’s bed.
On the corner of the bed Steve sits, one foot resting on the other knee as he holds a jade green drink. “How badly does your head hurt?”
You wince at the volume of his voice, placing your hands over your eyes. “Not great.”
He winces sympathetically, offering the smoothie. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Blurry images flash through your mind, the kitchen, Daniel, half of the second case gone. You attempt to remember past that point but it comes up blank. “I remember running into Daniel.”
As you sip on the surprisingly delicious hangover smoothie, Steve watches you, wearing a clear expression of concern.
“Anything after that?”
You can tell he’s egging you on, digging for something with an unprecedented seriousness in his tone. But there’s no memory after that. You gingerly shake your head, which sends more needles of pain through your skull.
“Why?” You ask weakly. Steve pauses, ruffling a hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh.
“You really don’t, huh?” Steve asks, one last attempt. “Maybe it’s good you drank as much as you did, then.”
“Steve, you’re scaring me.” Images of worst case scenarios course through your mind. What did you do?
Steve pats the spot on the bed next to you, double checking you don’t feel the urge to throw up. You don’t.
“Daniel tried to force himself on you.” He’s gentle, compassionate in his admission as he watches your reaction.
Huh. “How far did he–” you stutter, breath hitching as you bite back the sobs that suddenly threaten to rake through your body.
“He was interrupted before he even got that far,” he comforts you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he caresses it. “Eddie sort of bashed his face in.”
Now that you think about it, the memory of Eddie hunched over Daniel as he delivered blow after blow to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. You didn’t see the final result of Eddie’s defense, but the bruised knuckles you vaguely recall spell out how brutal the retaliation was.
Eddie.
“What–” you pause, stuttering through your breaths, “what happened after that?”
“You yelled at Eddie. Berated him. I think you even told him you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. At least, that’s what I gathered from what you told me,” he admits.
Your blood grows cold. From the weeks of silence, the jilted conversations, the slow resentment that bloomed through your stomach for him. The ache already hurt just from the absence of your best friend, but it was good for you. Fuck, this hurt.
“Is that all?”
He laughs, pulling your head into his neck. “Just that you can’t hold back your liquor.”
That’s why your breath tastes like vomit.
From the extra strength tylenol he gives you, the rest of the morning is spent helping Steve tidy up the trash around his house. Only after spending twenty minutes in the kitchen on his hands and knees scrubbing up the red stains does he allow you to help him. You only catch a glimpse of the paper towel soaked in dried blood and bleach when throwing out red solo cups, a small hint of the mess Eddie made of Daniel.
The thought of his name is a self betrayal, and you work faster once it crosses your mind.
Once the place is clean, you allow Steve to drive you home at his insistence, repeatedly asking when he pulls up to your house that you’re sure you’re okay.
Your dad is at work, not there to ask any questions you wanted to avoid from the previous night, namely why your eyes are swollen from tears. The blinds in your room fall with a trill resembling a xylophone, blocking the sun from your intense migraine.
For the first time in weeks, you’re stirred awake from sleep from the ringing of the phone on the floor that has been pushed under the bed. You let it ring.
Just as sleep pulls you back in, you’re abruptly startled as the phone alerts you again. You roll over, ignoring it as you wrap your head in your hands, curling into the pillow. No one has to get a hold of you that badly.
This person does, it seems, as they call you again. You groan, crawling over the edge as you grab the phone from your receiver. “Hello?”
You refuse the want to chew them out, to take your emotions and friendship breakup out on the person who has interrupted your sleep.
“It’s me.”
You lurch forward in your bed, still tethered to the receiver by the tightly coiled wire as it forces the receiver to scuff against the hardwood floor. Eddie.
-
Eddie’s sat on his couch, limply resting his head on the couch arm as the shrill voice of the main character complains over a problem that could be solved if she had just told someone. His hand rests on his eyes, shielding himself from the light to prevent the headache he can feel coming on. He’s given up on suggesting other movies by now, but she somehow seems to only play the movies that get on every last nerve.
He would probably be more willing to watch the romcoms in question if they weren’t the bottom of the pack. Last time Eddie even suggested a romcom he actually doesn’t completely hate he had to hear about it for an agonizing twenty minutes. Fine. She could watch her movie, he can practice on his guitar, right?
You would think.
So he dissociates and focuses on the gentle petting of his calf as he rests his leg on her lap. His mind floats to his best friend, how much he misses the smell of your shampoo, or when you make fun of the cheesier horror movies he loves to watch. If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.
Chrissy continues to insist that you like him, that you’re trying to steal him from her. It turned into many fights where Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend. There is a stubborn, immovable force still holding hope that something will just click one day and realize just how wrong she is. There’s a little nagging part of him, eating at his brain, warning that it probably won’t ever come true.
The possibility is almost too much for him to mentally handle, because when it blows up in his face and you decide not to forgive his radio silence, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle the absence in his life. So he procrastinates the detonation.
“I’m surprised you’re not going to Steve’s party,” Chrissy chirps, interrupting Eddie’s disarray.
Eddie blinks, trying to recall any mention of a party that might’ve slipped his mind. That might’ve been the reason for his ignorance if he could remember the last time he even spoke to Steve. He’s sure Chrissy knows that.
“I didn’t even know he was having one.”
She grabs at the extra material of his jeans, pulling his attention. “Did you want to go?”
He mentally rattles through the mechanics of going to Steve’s stupidly large house, knowing damn well his distance has managed to drive you straight into the arms of someone new, even if it’s only platonic. You’ll be there, the chance much more likely than not.
He wants to see your face, even if it’s in passing. He wonders if Chrissy sees you there if she’ll decide to leave early or just avoid you altogether. But it’s just the chance that drives him to agree.
By the time he gets there, vehicles have already littered the streets surrounding his house, some even audaciously blocking his neighbor’s driveways. Chrissy’s hand is in his as he walks in, anxiously looking around the party for you.
He peers into the living room, to the couch containing members of some of Steve’s closer acquaintances and it wasn’t long until he saw you, sitting right next to Robin holding the bottleneck of a beer bottle.
Your eyes are already on his, wide and still as you stare at him. You’re even prettier than he remembered, any polaroid he’s ever had of you does absolutely no justice to your radiant smile or vibrant eyes.
Fine, you’re staring at him like you would rather be anywhere else for the moment, panic flooding your features, but it’s a breath of fresh air for him compared to his last few suffocating weeks. As you stumble to your feet, Eddie tricks himself into believing that you’ve gotten up to talk to him until you pass the front entrance straight into the kitchen.
He supposes he deserves that, fading as Chrissy tugs him to the dance floor. His hands find her hips, allowing himself to get lost in the relentlessly catchy pop tune. He can’t help but allow his eyes to float back over to the couch every now and then, something in him carnally needing making sure that you’re safe.
Alarm bells go off, goosebumps trailing over his skin as something in him screams that you’re in danger. You could very much just be avoiding him, which he wouldn’t blame you for, not for one moment, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he found out his worry had any footing.
“Babe, I’m gonna grab a drink,” he mutters, blankly kissing her sweet scented blonde hair before his long legs take him to the kitchen.
His stomach drops as your voice fills the kitchen, asking the asshole with wandering hands to stop as he forces himself on you.
The next thing he knows, Daniel is under him, his back slammed on the floor with a face scrunched up in pain as Eddie’s fists are flying. His fists, his jeans, the floor, the whining little shit’s face, it all gets painted with blood.
Eddie doesn’t realize when the pair of arms stop trying to push him off, or when the green eyes no longer stare at him in horror, shut from the trauma of one blunt hit after the other. He just continually bashes his face in for even daring to attempt to force himself on the woman he loves.
Fuck this guy. Fuck him.
Eddie’s blind with rage, but he’s also blind with his own regret.
Your voice cuts through the anger, a warning that seeps in his brain like a sponge. If he keeps hitting him like this he will end up taking his life.
He stands up, facing your trembling form as you seem to be in shock. You melt in his hold, tears spilling over his hands as he caresses you, doing his very best to take care of you. He knows the answer when he asks, but he has to hear it from you.
Finally, the words seem to sober you from wanting his comfort to the hurt that you’ve felt from his silence. You lurch yourself from him, staggering blindly to the fridge as you grab another beer. The scent was harsh on your breath, the sight of you glugging back as much as you can sends jolts through his system.
Then you tell him everything. And he deserves it. He wants so badly to tell you how badly he wanted to call you, but the excuses sound lame even in his own mind.
When you tell him you’re done is when he finally snaps out of his own trance. He knows what you mean, but surely, you don’t really mean it? Before he can ask, Chrissy comes into the picture, doting over his bruised knuckles, ignoring you completely as she asks what happened. He’s fine. He’s not, but he’ll say anything to get back to what you were just saying.
Choked back sobs escape as you tell him with absolute finality that you are done, tripping over your own feet when you leave through the kitchen door.
No, this has gone too far. Eddie hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol but feels as if he’s wasted from stumbling after you, blocked by his girlfriend.
That conversation goes as well as can be expected.
In the hours following, he doesn’t seem to find you anywhere. But without Chrissy trailing after him, he finds himself free to converse with friends he’d missed, meeting their snide remarks of coming back to the land of the living with grace. Eddie stays for hours, half heartedly partaking in any conversation he finds himself witness to just in case you make another appearance.
Steve walks down the stairs after what feels like forever, wearing a grim look on his face. Eddie approaches him. “Hey have you seen–”
“She’s upstairs,” Steve answers, sighing. “Passed out. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”
“Is she okay?”
“Didn’t choke on her own vomit, at least,” Steve quips, his voice harsh. “Physically, she’s okay.”
Steve moves to walk around Eddie, seemingly done with the conversation.
“Physically?”
Steve sighs, angry, frustrated. “She just sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half, Ed. I literally watched her heart break! Safe to say, I don’t think she’s doing so well emotionally.”
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, feeling hopeless, like he should’ve been there to take care of you instead of being the cause of your suffering. “Steve, I–”
“Listen, Eddie. I just heard a bunch of shit from her that I’m not even sure she knows that she said. Other than her I guess telling you to fuck off, what else happened?”
Eddie gulps, not exactly wrapping his own mind around it, yet. “I found Daniel Moore trying to force himself on her.”
“Jesus,” Steve mutters, passing Eddie straight into the kitchen.
“Steve–” Eddie tries to stop him, or warn him at least, wondering how no one else has seen him, yet. There is almost no reason for most to make their way into the kitchen as the drinks station is in the living room, but usually a straggler or two, especially couples would make their own way in. He’s definitely not up and partying from the blood that seeped through the shirt he was wearing…
Should Eddie have called the ambulance?
“What the fuck–” Steve barks, taking in the crumpled form before him. “Jesus, Eddie, what happened?”
“You listen to your best friend beg someone to stop assaulting them and not beat the shit out of him?” Eddie retaliates, watching as Steve double checks to make sure he’s still breathing.
“Well, now I gotta get him out of here before someone has you fucking arrested,” Steve mutters, wracking his brain through old morally questionable friends of his that would help with no questions asked. Fuck. He has a few favors to call in. “Where’s Chrissy gone?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Eddie spits.
“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters, a fragment of seriousness in the joke.
“Well, not anymore,” Eddie shrugs, feeling surprisingly pragmatic about it.
“Oh.” Took you long enough, Steve thinks. “I’m gonna get him out of here, but I suggest you do the same.”
“Can I stay? I wanna be here when she wakes up.” His eyes pleading to Steve.
Steve’s brows raise. “Respectfully Eddie, I don’t think she really wants to see you.”
“I haven’t been able to tell her anything for weeks, I’m staying!” he insists, crossing his arms like a petulant child.
Steve shakes his head, leaning on the counter. God, he wished he hadn’t invited a few dozen people to come to his house for the night. “God, you’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots, but, man I think you’re the bigger one.” Steve walks around the kitchen island, getting unreasonably close to him. “I don’t know if you’re blind, or just selectively ignorant. She loves you, dude! She was willing to support you getting a girlfriend, but then you just shut her out. It’s gonna take more than an apology to be back in her good graces. When she wakes up with a killer hangover, I think the last person she’ll want to see is you. God, if one of you just made the jump years ago this never would’ve happened!”
Eddie’s heart drops at Steve’s angry words, refusing to believe any of his feelings for his best friend are reciprocated. “Sure, because three months of friendship tell you everything you need to know about a person.”
Steve chuckles, walking over the snoring asshole as he steps out to the living room. “I would have to be blind not to see it. She talked about you one time about this stupid fucking movie she watched with you and I could tell. Rather than telling your girlfriend that you have a best friend and she has to get over it, you shut her out. For weeks. And left someone else to pick up the pieces.”
“Steve, I know. I know I was being an ass–”
“Then why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you give her a call? You had to know she wasn’t going to forgive you so easily–”
“Of course I fucking knew that, Steve! Why do you think I put off letting it explode in my face?”
“Because you’re an idiot! She loved you. She loves you! If you can’t see that then I really don’t know what to tell you. Listen, if you call her tomorrow, I’m not all that sure what would happen. It’s gonna be a while before she’s ready to forgive, bud. For now. Maybe you should go.”
-
“Oh,” you sigh, hugging your knees into your chest, feeling small. A war rages in your mind. You were hurt enough by him to break your friendship off with him, but you don’t even remember it. The other side of you just wants to be close to him again, willing to sink into the apologies that he owes you and happily accept them.
But you shouldn’t. And you know you shouldn’t.
“Do you wanna come over for a movie?”
You want to come over and watch a movie so badly, it wraps around you and constricts your airflow. “Will she be there?”
“No. Just me and you. I promise,” Eddie swears, voice low enough that it resembles a whisper. “She won’t be, uh, crashing our movie nights anymore.”
You diminish the pulse of hope that threatens to bloom. “What do you mean?”
Eddie sighs. “I was hoping to tell you in person, but we broke up last night…come over, I’ll tell you more. I just need my best friend…and a horror movie…and junk food, god, I miss junk food.”
You miss him so much it hurts. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
The bike ride sends pulses through your head, worsening the ache of the hangover. If the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow, you might just ask someone to shoot an arrow through your head to put you out of your misery.
It’s been more than long enough since the last time you were on his front door step, nervous as you hesitate to knock. Eddie’s footsteps are rapid and loud as soon as your knuckles hit the door, the opening to him, wide eyes, graphic t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He appears unlike himself, almost tired. You wonder if you noticed it last night.
Before either one of you says a word, he tugs you in, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace in his scent. Overwhelming emotion takes over, his shirt absorbing the tears that fall. He feels like home, every part of him. His scent, the muscles flexing under your grasp, his steady breaths.
“I missed you,” he mutters, his voice low, choked, even.
Then why didn’t you call me? “Me too–” you whimper, squeezing onto him even tighter. You sniffle, curling your head into his neck.
The hug lasts forever, or at least long enough for your arms to become numb.
Your butt lands on the couch, the spot that was once permanently marked by you now weirdly lumpy from the lack of use. Did Chrissy know she was allowed to sit in her own seat on the odd occasion? On the coffee table, Eddie has already prepared the popcorn and your favorite snacks, only your favorite snacks. Three movies are laid out, all awaiting their turn in the VCR.
“What’s this?” You ask, rubbing your nose from the snot.
“Uh, three movies. Pick one.”
You read the titles, Back to the Future, Friday the 13th, and Labyrinth. “What happened to wanting to watch horror movies?”
“I have a lot of sucking up to do before I get to be picky with our movie night,” Eddie answers, his voice gentle and careful. “Pick one.”
If he says so, then you’ll have to pick your favorite, rather than his favorite. “Alright, then, Labyrinth it is. David Bowie in leather pants, here I come!”
As the movie plays, a teenage girl desperate to find her brother, you sink into the comfort of the ratty old couch. Through Eddie, you found out that the rattiest couches are actually the most comfy. The more tears and rips, the better. Eddie stands up, running to the kitchen to grab fresh cans of soda from the fridge.
He sits back down, handing you a Diet Coke while popping open his own. Two things you notice when he sits. One, he’s remarkably close, his ass nearly planted in between the cushions. Two–
“Since when did you start drinking diet coke?” You ask him, wincing at the aftertaste.
“Since Chrissy was such a stickler for sugar,” he answers casually, grabbing a bite of the popcorn.
His simple tone, emotionless and understated, squeezes your heart. “What happened with her, anyway?”
Chrissy blocked him, staring at him with wide eyes as she held his shoulders. “What–what is going on?”
“I need a minute,” he stuttered, attempting to walk around her.
“Did you do that?” Chrissy asked, pointing to the lifeless piece of shit on the floor.
“Chris, it’s really not a good time, right now. I will tell you later, I promise. I’ll be right back.” Eddie promised.
She blocked him again, hands pushing on his broad shoulders. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after her, are you?”
“Chrissy, she’s my best friend! That creep just tried– I have to go check up on her, make sure she’s okay!”
“You mean the girl who is pathetically in love with you?” Chrissy asked, belligerent and full of sass. “Sure, go and give her more false hope! She was practically all over you at the diner, mooning over you, desperate to take you out on a date, I mean, don’t give her fucking hope!”
Eddie sighed, rubbing his face angrily. “I don’t know how many times I need to fucking tell you, Chris. She is just my friend. She was being nice, trying to include you. I’m so fucking tired of this conversation!”
“So am I!” Chrissy crossed her arms, popping her hip out. It was times like these Eddie was absolutely sure of why Chrissy and Jason dated for so long. “You know what? Fine. Me or her.”
“What?” Eddie was unsure if she was being serious.
“Pick! Me or her? Because when you pick me maybe then she’ll get the fucking hint!”
It was the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life. “Her.”
Eddie finishes explaining it, mostly nixxing the parts where she berated you or talked shit. You just needed to know the part where she practically had a temper tantrum.
“Wow,” you mutter, remembering how you called Chrissy sweet when they first started dating. “And…you, you picked me?”
“Of course I did.” Eddie pops a kernel into his mouth, leaning back into the couch. His body heat is warm, his scent intoxicating. “You’re my best friend.”
“You haven’t called in weeks, Eddie.” It comes out quietly, the hurt overflowing in your body and pouring out your mouth. “I thought you had a new best girl.”
Eddie sighs, grabbing your hand. “If I could take back the last three months, I would. I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“I missed you so fucking badly,” you admit, focusing on how your hand feels intertwined with his.
“I missed you. I know– I fucked up, but believe me when I say, I missed you so fucking much.”
On one hand, it’s hard to believe him. It seemed like it was so easy for him to cut you off. On the other, the glint in his eyes, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, gentle and unequivocally vulnerable.
Eddie leans forward, connecting his forehead to yours. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”
“You have a lot of making up to do, mister,” you inform him, pulling away from him to lightly nudge his hair.
“And a million strawberry mountains covered in strawberry sauce,” he answers, kissing your forehead softly.
“You really had me worried,” you admit, taking a good look at his face. “I believe you when you say that you missed me, but Eds, you hurt me. I want to trust you, but–”
His movement is swift as he grabs your face with his hands, pulling you in close. “I know, baby, I know.” The pet name takes your breath away, music to your unsuspecting ears. The name wraps itself around your like a warm hug, melting all those months of worry and panic away. “I’m so fucking sorry, if I could just–”
Maybe it wasn’t the right timing, months of silence, unanswered questions, hurt, but all that just conveniently disappears the moment his lips touch yours. You startle, jerking backwards as you look at him curiously, looking for something that’ll tell you he’s not kissing you out of pity, or obligation.
You’re met with the exact way that he always looks at you, but this time, it’s radiant. How did you miss it this whole time? You smile, wrapping your hand behind his neck as you tug him in, entangling his lips with yours and chasing that emotion that ran through you the first time.
Eddie meets your kiss with enthusiasm, grinning madly as he pulls you in closer, your body flush against his as he pulls you down with him.
It’s maddeningly enchanting, the way you can taste his minty breath and his hums against your lips, buzzing and tickling. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, pulling a gasp as you happily meet his with yours. Your skin feels electric as his hand sneaks under your shirt, as if he’s just getting the feel of you.
You sigh, curling your arm around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. His kisses trail along your jawline, down your neck, pressing sweet kisses down your jugular. “You taste like strawberries,” he mutters, audibly smiling. “I should’ve known, all those damn strawberries you eat.”
“Before we go any further,” you gasp, clutching at his t-shirt, “and believe me, I want to, you owe me a proper date.”
“Taking you out for a date, baby?” He places more rapid kisses on your neck, letting himself absorb your laughter. “God, I’m lucky.”
-
You’ve learned one thing for absolute certainty, Eddie Munson knows how to grovel. Between the many kisses you’ve shared that night you tell Eddie with surety that just because he knows how to kiss doesn’t mean he’s suddenly forgiven. Eddie relishes in that, grinning just because you’re kissing him.
The previous night he was losing his mind at his ex-girlfriend’s terrible movie choices, and you, his best friend, the person who has always known him best, you’re finally here kissing him. You could ask him to write a 1000-page apology letter entirely in rhymes or haikus and he would do it heartbeat, but all he’s required to do is prove it?
He’s more than willing.
When the date is proposed, he swears he would love to take you anywhere. He provides a list, with all of the restaurants you know he can’t afford. When you ask him and inquire about such, he shrugs casually. There’s a silent question there, wondering if Chrissy had even considered his wallet size before their date nights.
Instead, you answer with, “Our first date should be the diner, no?”
You’ve never been so nervous before, looking through your small arsenal of date night dresses. He’s seen all of them, whether from a school dance or the aftermath of a date gone sour. One dress catches your attention, at the very back of your closet covered in plastic, just waiting for the right time.
White, with blue flowers hand embroidered on the bodice, a sweetheart neckline and bubble gum pink ribbons tied together as the straps. Periwinkle blue that bleeds into mint green leaves along the hemline, fanned out into a hoopskirt. You’ve stared at this dress when it sat in your mom’s closet, asking when it might be your turn to finally wear it.
The dress fits you like a glove, looking remarkably close to the photo on the easel downstairs, a first date 25 years ago that ended up being one of your favorite bedtime stories.
As you finally make your way down the stairs, hair half up in curls in a ribbon matching the ones on the dress, your dad looks at you with pride and glossy eyes. Whispered words of the resemblance as he hugs you, eyes too tired for a man in his forties from loss and stress, a whiff of gratitude hits you.
It’s a warm spring evening, no need for a coat as the van pulls up with the usual melodies of heavy metal and drumming. You make your way down the sidewalk to his passenger side, butterflies erupting as you open the door.
The volume is turned down to a background noise, the heavy metal feeling oddly out of place at such a low volume. “Hi, sunshine.”
You grab his hand, petting at his calloused skin. “Hi.”
You feel his eyes on you, taking in the dress that is on its first night out in decades. “I don’t know how you show up looking this good and expect me to act normal.”
You grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and sniffing at the leather. He can’t say shit like that and expect you to go on like normal. “C’mon. I haven’t had a strawberry milkshake in ages.”
You open the window just a crack, appreciating the scent of fresh grass in the spring. New beginnings, fresh starts, rebirth. It seems oddly poetic.
He pulls up to the diner, bright neon lights against an evening sunset. It looks as if it’s painted, yellow into orange into blue. A lonely diner isolated sitting against a watercolor sky, but one of your favorite places in the world.
The bell ringing feels like an old song you haven’t heard in years, bringing some bittersweet nostalgia.
Martha perks up, the diner even deader than normal with only a lone man sitting on a bar chair holding a milkshake like a beer. The comparison sends a gag reflex through your body, never wanting to even smell another beer in your lifetime. As you sit next to Eddie, in such close proximity that the other side of the booth is useless, Martha appears with a cheeky smile on her face.
“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,” she sighs, hands on her hips as if she’s chastising two kids.
You and Eddie glance to one another, debating on fucking with her. It’s all the approval she needs.
“Finally! If you came in my diner again with those puppy dog eyes of yours I would’ve about had it with you two. Now, are you getting your regulars again?”
Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulders, his thumb petting the bare skin of your shoulder. “I’m disappointed you haven’t already brought the milkshake, Martha.”
“Smartasses. The both of you!” She walks off, a brand new pep in her step.
His thumb turns under your chin, pulling your face towards his. “C’mere. I need to make up for the times I just wanted to kiss those pretty lips in this booth of ours.”
“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, breathless as you stare at his eyes.
“I didn’t think the prettiest girl I know would want to kiss a goofball like me,” he chuckles, self deprecating and vulnerable.
You shake your head sadly, sighing happily. “You are so wrong.”
His chuckles are interrupted by your kiss, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt clinging onto his chest. It’s like you to forget how to breathe, taking the moment to take a deep breath before kissing him deeper, harder.
Your tongues meet, wrapping together with his and leaning forward to be as close to him as possible. His hand lands on your thigh, petting it roughly as he teases you. You hated yourself, hated how you told him you wanted to wait, because it’s becoming too much. The need for him sits deep in your stomach and begs you for any resolve from his teasing hands.
His kisses keep you only so satiated, whimpering by the time your make out sessions are done and ready to beg him to touch you already.
The glass of pinky sweetness hits the table, interrupting his electric lips on yours. “If you two do it, at least have the decency to take it to the bathroom like every other patron.”
You yelp, avoiding Martha’s eyes as Eddie tugs you in against his chest, kissing your temple. “Yes ma’am,” Eddie obeys, saluting with two fingers. Two, very distracting fingers.
You take a sip, humming. After weeks, you will proudly proclaim that this is still the best milkshake in town.
Eddie kisses your cheek, pulling you even closer. “If you lick that whipped cream off your finger, so help me god.”
It’s a habit of yours, one you’ve done at least once a visit just to get a taste of it before it sinks into the milkshake. The numerous times you’ve done it sinks in, unknowingly teasing him. “Something wrong with tasting whipped cream, Eds?”
“When you do it with that tongue of yours, yes,” he mutters, nipping on your jawline.
“Why don’t you have a taste,” you hum, taking a scoop with your pinky, licking it up.
Eddie pulls you in, humming as his tongue reaches out for yours to grab a taste of the cream melting fast in your mouth. He pulls back all too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he tuts his tongue. “Mmm. Yum. Thanks, baby.”
The milkshake is nearly gone by the time Martha rolls around again, pancakes and waffles in hand, interrupting soft conversation and sweet nothings.
He finally tries a taste of your pancakes, eating from the fork you offer him. His face winces, screwing up as he chews on it. “That strawberry sauce is sweet, ain’t it?”
“A little sour, I guess, but it’s my favorite. The fresh strawberries are a nice little addition.” You tell him, cutting up the pancakes.
“I’ll stick to my sprinkles,” Eddie mutters, dipping a piece of the big fluffy waffle in the whip. “They are the best.”
“I have a question,” you mutter, relishing in the taste of the sweet strawberry sauce. “How-how long have you liked me? Was it more recent, or have you liked me for years?”
Eddie smirks, placing a stand of hair over your shoulder. “Years.” He chokes back the correction of the word like, cause it’s so much more. “The first time I saw you, you were giving one of the football dicks hell for picking on one of the scrawny little freshmen. And I mean, berating him. You’re shy, baby, but not when it comes to others.” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “I knew from that moment.”
Oh. It was a handful of months before you found yourself sitting by the hellfire table, shaking your head at their antics. Plus, Gareth was just plain wrong in his opinion, you shook your head disapprovingly as you dug your nose in the book. Eddie caught on to it, demanding you join their group and inform him of how wrong he was. You did. You didn’t realize how charming Eddie was, how welcoming and genuinely kind.
It took your breath away, especially how gorgeous he was. The crush was kindled from then on, only being nurtured as you continued to debate him and his friends on their nerd culture.
Eddie followed up with the same question, asking how long ago for you, too. You tell him that very story, of how he enamored you just from being around him.
“You know, by then I was already head over heels for you,” he admits casually, sipping the last of the milkshake. “Something about sticking it to the man just does that to a guy.”
“Those dimples of yours are a weapon.” You admit in kind, and he laughs. You drop your jaw incredulously. “They’re a weapon! You think your hands are the only things those girls call magic?”
Eddie leans in, hot breath on your ear sending ripples down your neck. “And have you thought about these magic hands of mine, sweetheart?”
You gulp, licking your lips as your heart races in your chest. “Maybe...” You say softly.
He hums, tentatively kissing your skin. He really shouldn’t be doing this in a public space, you think, attempting not to wiggle at the uncomfortable feeling of arousal pooling in your panties. “I can’t wait to show you just how magic they are.”
You hold back a whimper, choking on it as your eyes flutter shut at his tentative kisses.
“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You nod, watching as he places the right amount of bills with a decent tip for Martha.
On your way out the door, Martha shouts her goodbyes, happily yelling out her congratulations as the glass door slams behind you. Eddie’s lips find a home on the back of your hand, holding it as he kisses loudly, tickling the skin.
The trailer sits alone in the park, all lights off as he pulls up. With the turn of a key, his arm wraps around your waist as you walk in sync. It’s familiar as you help him turn on the lights, domestic, even. His jacket is off, tossed on the couch as he tugs you by the hand towards his room.
You’ve thought about it so many times, whisking away into his room with him to devour him completely. Usually it occurs when you’re mad stoned, happy and horny, but too blizted to make a move.
Your hands curtain the back of his neck, thumbs petting the nape of his neck and tangling themselves in his curls, rubbing in small circles. His lips connect to yours, stumbling over dirty laundry as he guides you to his bed. “Hmm, strawberries.”
He yelps as lands on his back, laughing as you collide with an oof. The playful moment is quickly replaced with intensity, staring down into his brown eyes, darkened by desire. Across the years of being his friend, he’s darkened his eyes in many moments, right before he decides to pin you down and tickle you senseless or when you talk down on yourself.
There were moments when his intense gaze took you aback, mostly when you innocently used too much enthusiasm in eating ice cream or put your hair up in a ponytail.
Or when you wore a sundress that sat a bit too high on your thigh.
All these moments suddenly make sense, filling you with a gust of emotion as you grab at him, tugging him harshly for a kiss much more powerful than you knew you had in you. He gasps into it, deep and desperate against your lips as you pull him closer. One of his hands travels downward, hiking under your skirt and grabbing at your thigh, your knee pulled up against his stomach.
Eddie turns you over on your back, hands grabbing at the skin harshly, his rings pressing at your skin hard enough to create an indent. Your leg wrapped around his waist tugs him down, his chest landing on yours.
“Question, my love,” Eddie mutters, words intertwined with his kisses. “Why the hell haven’t I seen this dress until now, it’s…oh my god.”
You grin against his lips, pushing your hands past his cotton shirt. “Waiting for a special occasion.”
“You telling me I could’ve seen this ages ago, baby?” He gasps, wrapping your tongue against his, delicate but enough to make you mewl into his mouth.
“Probably.”
He nips your lip, a punishment for your cheekiness. “It’ll look better on the floor.”
Your hips grind up, meeting the bulge in his pants just right. “You can’t say stuff like that–” you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck to hold on to him pathetically.
“You have no idea the things I’ve wanted to say to you.” His hand travels further up, passing the waistline of your panties and spreading on the skin of your tummy. “All the things I’ve held back…”
The admission is thrilling and terrifying, giving you almost everything you’ve ever wanted.
Now if you could get that bike you wanted for Christmas when you were twelve…
“Can you tell me now?” you ask, smiling up at his pretty, bewildered face.
“Hmm, patience,” he tuts, using his hand to explore. “Right now I just really want to touch your pussy, please, baby, please.”
It’s your turn for bewilderment. He’s acting like touching you is this great honor, instead of a means to an end like anyone else you’ve slept with. “Uh, yeah, I want that. I really, really want that.”
Eddie sighs, using his traveling hand and dipping it under the waistband of your panties. As his best friend, you’ve gotten so comfortable around him, arguably too much. Late nights in his room with a t-shirt and panties as his room fills with smoke. Eddie is only human, appreciating them too much as as you sat cross legged with the strip just a tad too thin for what it was supposed to cover.
This particular pair is decorated in lace up the front, a sheer lace for the bum, a light blue to match the flowers. His fingers latch to your pussy, delicately moving them up and down the folds.
“Oh my god,” he sighs, playing with the slick and spreading it. “You’re so wet, all this…all this for me?”
He adds more pressure, rubbing small circles and watching you throw your head back and melt in the heat that spreads across your thighs and takes form in a tremble, in a shake. “F-feels good.”
“Yeah?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit and rotating it in tiny circles. “You like the way I play with your pussy, baby?”
You frantically nod, grinding up against him. “Need..need more. Please? More?”
“What does more mean?” He leans in, decorating your neck with sucks and bites and licks. “You want me to lick it, baby? You need my fingers, you already beggin’ for my cock? C’mon my girl, use your words.”
You might just beg for his cock, but you don’t want it to be over so quickly. “Want–want your fingers, Eds.”
He giggles, planting a nice wet kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.” He doesn’t wait a second, curling one finger past your entrance and pumping it slowly, building a slow momentum that pulls at your stomach. He sighs, husky and deep, “Fuck, it’s so tight.”
He removes his finger without warning, not commenting on the moan in disappointment that escapes your mouth. He sits up, grabbing at the waistline as he tugs them down your legs, slowly, carefully, savoring in the moment. He lifts up the skirt, exposing the landing strip that sits waiting for his eyes.
“Did you decorate your pussy just for me? It looks so pretty… Thank you, baby girl,” Eddie is borderline emotional in his gratitude, showering you with praises.
Your legs attempt to close back together in embarrassment from his intense stare. He notices it, pushing your legs back down. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Keep these legs open while I eat your pussy.”
You drench your thighs, turned on even from the mere idea of being with him. “Mmkay.”
“You–” he gasps, delicately licking at the mound. “You taste so good. Wanted to bury my face in this little cunt for so long.”
His hands lift your thighs up and over his shoulder. His mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing, listening to the cues you give him through your quivers and whines. The dress is completely covering his face, hiding the man that is eating you out, slowly and carefully, as if wanting to taste every drop of arousal you feed him.
Before long, your legs start shaking in his hold from the pleasure that has your hands tangled in your hair, eyes squeezed tight as he pulls whine after whine from you. One finger slides right back in, facing no resistance, sucking on your clit simultaneously. That arches your back and curls your toes, gasping from his build up, his words, god just from the years of mental torture.
You cum against his lips without warning, for him or yourself, twitching around his fingers and crying out his name.
He coaxes you through it, kissing your pretty pussy lips gently until your legs stop convulsing. Sweat beads on your forehead, spreading on your back and neck and making the thick fabric of the dress too hot. You untie each ribbon, desperately grabbing at the neckline to pull it up and off.
He kisses up your torso, laughing as you get stuck with the dress half off. One heel digs in his back in retaliation, whining as you gesture to him to help you. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.” Eddie giggles.
You whine, kicking your legs for him to hurry up. Your hair is stuck in your dress. It lifts over your head, a light bra covering your tits acting as a tease for him. The dress lands on the floor, nice and splayed out as it’s done its purpose.
You roll your eyes, tugging him in for a desperate kiss by the neck, wandering hands moving south to tug at his t-shirt. “Wanna see you, too,” you confess, helping him rid of his shirt. “Show me those tattoos.”
“You like the tatties?” You nod enthusiastically although you know he’s just teasing you. “Oh, I bet ya do. Probably ogled them while I wasn’t lookin’ huh?”
With a chest like his, you don’t imagine he could blame you. You let your eyes speak for you, raking over his covered chest and openly staring. “Wanna suck your cock.” You look up at him with big doe eyes, silently begging.
Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission, groaning as you start to undo his jeans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last that long…I need to be buried in you, wanna feel that pussy around my cock.”
You gulp, wrapping your legs around his torso so his jeans meet your pussy, probably drenching a wet spot on the front. “Me too…but I remember you said you didn’t really get reciprocated very much.” You inhale, gathering courage. “I remember thinking how I’d love to spend hours with your cock down my throat.”
Eddie keels over you, curling his face in your neck as he whimpers. “You were holding that back from me?” He punches the mattress right next to your head, a mild temper tantrum. “What other depraved thoughts have you been hiding from me?”
“You want me to tell you, or show you?” You’re not sure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but you’re running with it, especially if it means you can hear him make that sound again.
“Sh-show me- want you to show–” he nods, whimpering into your neck and shuddering.
“Mmkay,” you muse, smirking at just how easily the shoe falls on the other foot. “Get on your back.”
He complies promptly, wrapping his arm around the small of your back and turning the two of you over. You straddle him, grabbing at his chest carefully as you plant kisses all the way down his lean torso. You bring teeth into the mix, sucking and biting and marking your territory.
You’ve been itching to do so since he showed up one morning with bruises decorating his neck, claiming his hookup got a little too eager.
I'll show you eager, you begrudgingly think, wishing that all the boys were teasing him from bruises you gave him, instead. God, there was one planted on his collarbone that was excessively large, annoyingly so.
You mark your way down his chest, his stomach, lapping greedily at his treasure trail as he whimpers at your enthusiasm. This is power, you think to yourself, wondering what other noises you could conjure from him. As your mouth moves, so do your hands, undoing his belt slowly, taking your time as you unzip his fly.
The evidence of his arousal is strikingly clear, his boxers bulging out of the open fly and begging for your attention. While your subtle glances downward gave you an inkling of his size, his hardened cock presenting itself to you, even disguised in its plaid wrapping, had you letting out a gasp in unbridled lust.
You wrap your hand around it, gleaming as he hisses, a hushed swear passing through his lips. You watch his face, observing him as you place your lips on the covered shaft, just letting him feel the heat of your breath on it. “Oh, fuck–” Eddie chokes, letting out harsh shudders.
The sight of his face is borderline angelic, all of his walls down as he focuses on you. You can’t help but smile at that, at how you desperately wished for nights like these, only paying attention to one another. You poke your tongue out, drenching the cotton fabric with your spit, working your way down the length.
At his little whines, you finally curl his fingers under his waistband, drooling at the taut cock that pops out, giving you a friendly hello, swaying from the spring. You smile ear to ear, delicately wrapping your hand around the base.
You kiss the tip, lapping at the pearl of precum that gives the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. “Mmm,” you hum at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop from his flushed tip.
You let the saliva that has pooled on the surface of your tongue drool onto his cock, spreading it down the shaft, absorbing the moan he rewards you with. “Shit, that feels–oh my god.”
You smile with pride, finally taking him into your mouth, enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. Your eyes remain on his, watching him as his face melts, committing it to memory.
“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, hips rutting up, clawing further into your mouth. You take him in further, gagging on it as you wrap your tongue around it experimentally, choking loudly and purposely. “Ch-choke on it, yeah, ch-ohmy god, just like that–”
Your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth, slobbery sounds of spit on flesh, his and yours, deliciously wet. He tenses up beneath you, whines growing more desperate, moans huskier, deeper. It’s a marvelous melody, one no composer could make even if they tried their hardest.
“St-st-stop,” he stutters, curling over himself, writhing under you. “Stop–I-I’m gonna cum.”
Reluctantly you listen, lifting your head off him with a pop and cheekily smiling at his heaving chest. You crawl upward, yelping as he wraps his arm around the small of your back and tugs you in for a kiss, more powerful, wrapped in an unnamed emotion you couldn’t possibly let yourself be delusional enough to define as. The one hand crawled up your back undoes the clasp of your bra, tugging it off your arms and flinging it across the room.
“Gimme those tits,” Eddie sighs, kneading them in his hands and toying with the flesh and nips. “Oh, they’re so pretty, baby. I love them, I‘ve wanted to play with them for so long.”
Eddie’s legs move under you, kicking off his jeans while holding you close to his chest. You sit up, tugging him up with you as you hover just over him.
His skin directly on yours, close and toe curling as you straddle his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. There’s a glow in them, eyebrows relaxed as he holds your hips, staring up at you with such enamour. “Want your cock,” it’s only a whisper, but loud in the intimacy between you two. “I want you.”
His brows furrow, only a moment. The thought passes through him quick as a flash, but you see it.
“What was that?”
He smiles, relieved and tender. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He leans in, pressing kisses on your clavicle, your neck, your shoulder, the swell of your breast. “Not-not just like this. I mean, fuck, I wanted it, so, so bad. But…I’ve wanted you, wanted your late nights and early mornings, to help you when you need to study, wash the dishes…sorry, I’m rambling.”
You pet his cheek, shaking your head. “No. Keep going.”
“I mean, we’ve always sort of had that, you know? It was just torture, not kissing you stupid whenever I wanted…because I wanted to. I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”
A breath of a laugh passes through your lips, attempting to absorb what he had just told you. “Really?”
You smile, holding him tightly as you kiss him, sighing happily as he confirms, nodding frantically. The head brushes against your entrance, pulling a whine from you. “Eds, I-I love you, too.” The kisses get more fierce, Eddie clinging onto you harder and nearly attacking your lips. “But…if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually lose my mind,” You giggle.
He laughs, combing his fingers through your hair, away from your face, from the sweat. He slaps his cock against your clit, teasing you with his head. “Of course, baby, you wanna ride me, hmm? Hop up and down on my big fat cock?”
You nod, biting your bottom lip, hissing when he pushes his head in, watching as your jaw drops. “Oh, look at you, I knew you could take it like a good girl.”
You choke back a whine, swallowing hard as his words have such a strong effect on you. ‘Fuck, f-feels so good.” You stop, mewling as the burn of his girth becomes too much.
“Don’t rush yourself, baby, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on your hips, digging into the soft flesh. “So nice and tight, fuck.” His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.
You sink further, taking him deeper as the burn bleeds into bliss and back to burning again. “Jesus, s’good.”
“Mm, almost there, baby.”
“Move, please. Eds. Need-need you to move.”
Eddie chuckles, large hands holding your back. He lifts his hips, slowly filling you to the hilt and bringing it back out, one hand landing by his side to use it for leverage. You chirp out his name, mewling as he slowly rocks his hips. “Love the way you say my name,” he gasps.
You start rocking, slowly lifting your hips as you assist him. “You gonna make me scream it?”
“If that’s a challenge, then I will happily accept,” Eddie growls, gripping onto your hips harder and pulling you down so the union of where your bodies meet hurts in the best way. “Wonder when those legs will give up, hm?”
“I’ve thought about riding you on the couch too many times to give up easily,” you admit, giggling at his wicked grin.
“Oh, have you now? Been wearing those little panties just so I’d snap and ravish you, hmm?” He asks, hair wild as he watches you bounce on him.
“Maybe,” you admit, though that was mostly just out of comfort and trust of your best friend. “You have stronger will power than I thought you would.”
“Hmm, you think too much of me, baby,” Eddie mutters, framing your face with his hand and pulling you in for a kiss.
Admittedly, your legs are growing tired, but you soldier on, connecting your forehead with his desperately and watching his eyes glaze over. Your head already feels hazy, heat building in your stomach as you rapidly climb towards your climax. “You getting close? About to cum on my cock?”
You nod, startling in your movement as he starts to move you quicker with just the tightening of his grip on your hips. “Eds,” You whimper as he rubs his thumb on your clit, rapid movements as he hurdles you towards your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him as your eyes roll back.
“Lemme feel you squeeze my cock, baby, wanna feel you cum all over it.” Almost as he demands it into existence, you finish with a start, twisting your toes together and hunching over his shoulder while he rolls his hips, gasping and whining and mewling. “Oh, that’s my girl. Here, bet those legs’re gettin’ tired, hmm?”
You nod, giddily giggling as he maneuvers you on your back. “God, I love you. I really really do. I don’t–I don’t know what the fuck I’ve been thinking–”
You slap your hand on his mouth, giggling at his wide eyes. “Sorry, but…shut up. Rail me. Destroy me. We have time for all that later, now quit getting all emotional on me.” You take your hand off his mouth and pat his cheek. “Be a good boy and make me scream your name, won’t you?”
He chuckles deeply, his jaw dropping as he nips on the palm of your hand. “‘Be a good boy,’ hmm? Yes, ma’am.”
Okay, this turns you on too much not to eventually dissect it, but Eddie’s hips start moving, harsh and raw and brutal, just as you asked for. With each collision of his hips comes a whimper from the force, each one louder than the last.
His head curls down into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin as he sucks and bites and laps his tongue over the pain. “Look at your neck, all marked up. All mine,” He rasps.
“All yours,” you whisper, choking on the emotion that fills your throat.
“My good girl who loves to get fucked hard, hmm?” He chuckles, curling his arms tightly around you. “Oh, listen to those pretty little noises you’re making, so pathetic for me, oh fuck.”
“Ed-keep-oh-oh–” you gasp, whining higher and higher.
“Yeah, just like that. Pathetic little princess.”
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, skin to skin, all sticky and sweaty as the smell of sex fills the air.
“You’re moaning like a desperate little slut but you’re not screaming my name, yet. Can’t wait for it. Hmm? Why you makin’ me wait?”
“Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” you gasp, a smile spreading across your face.
Eddie’s eyes widen, lifting his body off yours quickly. “Oh yeah? Hands n’ knees. Turn around.” He sends a jolt of fear through you, eyes widening as move into a crawl position. “That’s a girl.”
His hands tighten on your hips, lining himself up and pushing in all within the span of 3 seconds. He’s relentless with it, lurching forward as he grabs a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, I can’t hear you.” He taunts you, pulling deliciously at your scalp.
He starts moving faster and harder, clumsily planting his lips on your back, messily trying to take any claim he can on you. One hand slaps your ass, Eddie hums, appreciating the print of his hand on your skin. Moans pass through your lips, the loud ones that Eddie was asking of you. HIs name is added into the mix, cross eyed and desperate as he somehow increases his force.
“There we are. Where do ya want me to cum, baby, I’m so fuckin’ close.”
“Cum–cum in me, Eds. Fill me up.”
“Fuck-you, y’sure?”
“Fill. Me up.” You say again, getting your point across.
“Oh fuck–” he stutters, jaggedly rutting into you as he bends over you, filling you up with sticky white ropes. “You feel that, baby? Fuck. You feel all full?”
Eddie releases the hold on your hair as you fall forward, breathing heavily as you collect yourself. He pulls himself out, collapsing right next to you. His arms easily wrap around your back, pulling you in against his chest. You curl into him, sighing happily as you listen to his racing heart.
You lay like that for a while, listening to his breathing even out as he pets your hair gently. He plants a kiss on your forehead, humming. “Why did that take us so long to do?” You ask, still trying to regain control over your breathing.
“Hmm?” He pulls away, processing your question. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re idiots.”
You tug him back in, feeling sleepy as you smile against his chest. “Yeah. Big, big idiots. I love you, idiot.”
He hums, pulling you in tighter. “Love you too, ya idiot.”
It’s strange. You thought it would change everything if he were to finally be yours. It doesn’t change anything, banter traded as always, only with a caressing hand that tugs you in for a kiss when he teases you. Hormones go wild, finding resolve in one another as movies are no longer watched, just a nice background noise.
-
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lqvesoph · 23 days
Text
She’s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4
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lando norris x webber!reader
summary: Quali day in Melbourne also means some secrets are being spilled…
part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 3
The flight to Melbourne was only about three hours. Three hours that Daniel spent sleeping while Lando and you talked about god and the world.
He told you a lot about his family, his parents and siblings and his two little nieces. Your heart swelled a little at the pictures of him holding the two girls on vacation last summer.
You glanced over at Daniel and then turned your gaze to the British boy next to you.
"So, I was thinking-"
"So, about today morning-"
The two of you started at the same time, chuckling and looking down. "You go first", you quickly said, wanting to hear what Lando had to say first.
"About this morning, I… I really like you. I feel like I know you, which is pretty strange considering the fact we haven’t known each other that long. But I wanna get to know you more because… I really like you", he spoke, shyly glancing at you, only to find you smiling at him.
"I would love that, Lando", you smiled, reaching to grab his hand and interwind your fingers. "Can we please keep it low when people are around though? Because I really need to tell Oscar first before he finds out from stupid gossip pages and I don’t think his home race is the place to tell him that I’m dating his teammate", you chuckled at the last sentence.
Lando nodded in understanding and pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles lightly. "That’s totally fine by me", he smiled, dropping your interlaced hands back into your lap.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"What on earth are you doing here??", your best friend called when he spotted you lingering in the back of the Mclaren garage. He quickly signaled his engineer that he’d be back shortly before walking over to you.
"You’re not even wearing any sort of Red Bull colour", Oscar stated after he looked you over once, mustering the white summer dress and lack of Red Bull hat.
"C’mon, I can’t go ‘round parading Red Bull as an Australian at the Australian Grand Prix, especially not when my best friend who’s also Australian drives for a different team", you chuckled, your eyes finding Lando’s for a second who still stood in front of the computer, looking at data along with his engineer. He sent you one of his adorable little smiles before shifting his attention back to work.
"I think this is honestly the first time you’ve ever stood inside here for more than 5 seconds and without me forcing you", Oscar chuckled.
Before Oscar could drag you to his side of the garage, Lando showed up behind him, a wide grin on his face.
"And who do we have here, Red Bull’s princess in papaya", he smirked. Your smile immediately brightening at the sound of his voice. "Well we’re not as far as me actually being IN papaya, I’m colour neutral today", you replied, making Lando raise his eyebrows before pulling his Mclaren hat off and pushing it down on your hair in a quick motion.
"Heyy!", you protested with a giggle and tried to slap his arm away. "That looks way better, wouldn’t you say Oscar?", the brit laughed and turned to his teammate, whose invisible question mark was getting bigger and bigger.
Thankfully his race engineer called him back before he could pose any of his million questions. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t still keep his eyes on the two of you, catching the gentle squeeze Lando gave your hand, that held on longer than necessary.
📍Melbourne, Australia
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tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, ybsf
yn.adams: Feels great to be back in Australia and especially at Albert Park!! Quali up next🏎️
comments:
landonorris: Loads of papaya right here🧡
> landonorris: Even a papaya sunset🤭
> fan: How did he convert her over to McLaren???
> fan: That d must me hella good if she’s willing to change teams…
oscarpiastri: How am I only posted once???
> fan: Oscar asking the important questions!!
> fan: Fr tho how did she post Lando 3x??
danielricciardo: I’m sorry, is that papaya I see there??
kellypiquet: You look absolutely gorgeous!!
> yn.adams: Luv uuuu
ybsf: THE BEACH PICTURE!!
liked by landonorris
fan: That’s a lot of papaya for you, miss🤨
fan: Posting Lando 3x in one post…
fan: Daniel with the truck LMAOOO
fan: Not a single photo from the Red Bull/RB garange🫣
> fan: Lando be turning her into a Mclaren fan
load more comments…
*~**~*
Your heart swelled with pride when you saw Lando jump up to P4 on the leader board, your smile just slightly getting bigger. You clapped your hands a few times, celebrating Max’s pole with the other crew members but secretly also Lando’s good starting position for the race tomorrow.
You quietly hushed out of the garage to walk down the paddock to Mclaren, waiting for Lando to arrive.
"Heyy!", he called with a laugh. You giggled and opened your arms for him. His curls were slightly damp from the sweat but you pushed your fingers through them anyway as his arms wrapped around your waist.
"I’m proud of you!", you muttered for only him to hear and felt him smile and squeezed your hip. "Thank you", he smiled and pulled back.
"You wanna come inside?", Lando then asked, nodding towards the papaya hospitality. You hesitated for a second but nodded and resisted the urge to grab the driver’s hand.
He smiled for a few pictures and waved at fans before opening the door for you.
"Lando, debrief is at 6", Jon reminded Lando before said boy grabbed your hand and dragged you towards his driver room.
He pushed the door shut behind you and unzipped his orange race suit, the black fireproof coming to show.
"These are so hot", you muttered, letting your intrusive thoughts take over as you trailed your fingers along his chest. Lando chuckled and pulled you closer by the waist. "You wanna take ‘em off?", he joked teasingly but the glint in his eyes told you he really wouldn’t mind if you did.
You chuckled and pulled his lips on yours, his tongue finding its way into your mouth shortly after. Lando pushed you back until the back of your knees hit the couch and he let you down on his carefully, all while letting his hands roam up and down your body.
You whined when he sucked the gentle skin on your neck, his hand coming to rest on the back of your thigh. You put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him back up so your lips could touch again.
"Lando, have you seen- oh wow, that’s why you didn’t come to congratulate me!"
The door opened, making you push Lando away from you and scrambling up to sit straight on the couch.
Oscar stood in the doorway, putting his hands on his hips. "Respect, mate. I didn’t think you’d be brave enough", he said, turning his gaze to Lando.
You squeezed your eyes shut, praying that your best friend would keep his mouth shut.
"Huh?", Lando asked, a confused expression gracing his face. "Just because Mark has always been against his daughter dating drivers, I mean I tried when I first met her but respect mate", Oscar kept talking, now crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Mark?", Lando questioned, his confusion growing as the seconds passed. You silently begged Oscar to finally quit talking but he didn’t catch on.
"Mark, her dad? Mark Webber", Oscar explained, now confused as well.
"Your dad is Mark Webber?", Lando called, turning his head to you.
Just then your phone chimed with a new message.
dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?
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infictionalwonderland · 11 months
Text
hot physiotherapist | j.potter
SUMMARY, james has a rugby accident and has to take physiotherapy - he’s pretty down about, but all that depressions forgotten as soon as he sees you, his physiotherapist. why had he not done this sooner?
James Potter was miserable.
A very odd occurrence, although it did happen (evidently). He was pouting the whole way as Remus drove them to the physiotherapists, Sirius was giggling to himself in the backseat the whole time—Remus, ever the angel he was, tried to cheer James up by giving him complete control over the music in the car and even greeting him with his coffee order and a chocolate croissant.
James was still miserable.
“Have fun, darling boy!” Sirius chirped out the window as James got out of the car, “try not to break any bones on your way in. God forbid you need physiotherapy.”
He burst out into borderline manic cackles and fell down completely into the row of backseats, never one to wear his seatbelt as he hated being constricted—James glared with upmost venom and hatred at the backseat windows, Tarzan looking cunt.
“I hope everything goes well.” Remus’ voiced gently, shooting his boyfriend a blank stare even as he tried to stop his own amusement. “D’ya want me to fetch you any food or anything for you when you come out?”
“No. Thanks.”
Remus winced.
James was still miserable.
He trotted his way indoors, cursing inside his head at the shooting pains all up his back and his hips, with the largest pout there ever was he made his way over to the reception and told them who he was—why he was here, before behind asked to take a seat in one of the rooms where he would be joined shortly by the physiotherapist.
He sat, frowning at the large room with equipment and soft turquoise coloured walls for a short about of time and then the door opened.
And then his world stopped.
In you stepped. . your hair was tugged into a low ponytail, front strands out of the pony to frame your face. He had died, he was certain. Your skin looked so soft, the beaming white lights giving you the most heavenly glow, he was sure you were an actual angel. Your eyes gleamed beautifully, and he was lost in the exact shade of them—trying to pinpoint every little detail and speck of colour. Your lips were pulled into such a fucking lovely smile, he could’ve melted (he did melt). Even from where you stood in the door, he was greeted in the pleasant aroma of your perfume and he felt like he was floating.
Your mouth was open—oh my god he was missing an opportunity to hear your voice—wait, what had you been saying. Balls.
“Um—h—muhuh?”
Double balls.
Your beautiful smile didn’t even waver in the slightest, though, amusement weaved it’s way into your eyes and created a mesmerising pattern into your irises that he forever engraved into his memory.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Potter! My names Y/N and I’ll be your physiotherapist for the foreseeable future.” You grinned, walking closer to him, “Hopefully.”
Wha—was that flirting? No! You had said it in a normal tone, like Hi I hope I stay your physiotherapist because it is literally my job, James and I enjoy it. But—yeah, no. It was like that. You were so close to him now—so so much more beautiful up close, he didn’t think that was even humanly attainable.
“Yeah—i—I hope so too, ma’am.”
MA’AM?!
Somebody sedate me, he thought.
You didn’t seem thrown off or even slightly offended, or disgusted by him. Which was, good, really, really good.
Instead, you let out this little bubbly burst of laughter and fucking hell, James knew from that point he was gone and could never return. His eyes were probably comically wide and maybe in literal heart shapes but he could truly care less. He look at you in awe—your nose scrunched when you laughed, your eyes squinted and to James you just became even more perfect.
“Please, call me Y/N—Ma’am sounds overly American anyway—“
“Would you prefer Miss?”
I’m never leaving the house again.
You blinked.
He almost stumbled to his knees in apology though that would obviously only give you the impression he was more of a creep than you already thought he was—but—hold on. He watched, mouth falling open just slightly, as your cheeks flushed a very very pretty pink and your mouth formed into the cutest smile he’d ever seen in his entire life.
He was definitely leaving the house again, and it was going to be to come here everyday.
“Just Y/N is fine, thank you for being so considerate though.” You laughed teasingly.
“Can I be upgraded to just James?”
“Oh? You don’t want to he called miss? Or Ma’am?” You grinned at him, white teeth glistening from under your full lips, cheeks turning a faint rosy shade under the strength of your grin and a strand of hair swooping in front of your eye. He was in love. “Or, Sir maybe?”
Jesus Christ of Nazareth.
James is one hundred percent that he would’ve fallen over fast first had he been standing and he’s never been more thankful he’s not. He can feel his cheeks turn red—his face heating up to an embarrassingly tomato red state at an embarrassingly quick rate.
“Nah—Ju—Just James, please.” He huffed out, moving the material of his shirt dramatically off his chest and fanning himself. “Is—um, is it hot in here or is just you? Me! Is it just me?!”
You smile at him, adorably crinkle eyed and slightly pink cheeked, looking every bit the goddess and the angel James already knew with certainty that you were.
James Potter was, as it turns out, no longer miserable.
In fact, he can’t wait for his next appointment.
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Imagine calling Sanji “Love Cook”…
Walking onto the deck you found Luffy laying on the wooden planks. Usopp was sitting beside him, Nami had her eyes through a set of binoculars with Zoro close by, head against the railing as he rest his eyes.
“What have I missed?” You asked.
Usopp looked at you and sighed. “Sanji said dinner would take longer than usual today.”
Zoro huffed. “Damn waiter probably burned the first batch.”
Usopp doubted the comment. Luffy jumped up and grabbed your shoulders as a realisation dawned. “Sanji doesn’t say no to you.”
And so, you were on the mission to uncover the great secret. You heard noises from behind the kitchen door and knocked while pushing the wooden panel open.
“You know, Luffy says that you’re being awfully tight-lipped about tonight’s dinner.” You walked in and saw pots and pans strewn across every surface possible. At the heart of the mess was the blonde-haired chef with a bowl and whisk in hand, mixing a blue-coloured cream.
“Wow. It’s like Mihawk tore his way through this place.” Your comment had Sanji turn, his concentrated frown flipping almost immediately.
He chuckled and approached the counter as you did the same on the other side. “Mihawk could only dream.”
He slowed the whisking and lowered the bowl. Grabbing a small spoon, Sanji scooped a small amount into his mouth and hummed in delight.
“Any chance I could get a taste?” You asked, voice rising in pitch ever so slightly while you took a seat.
Putting the spoon and bowl aside, Sanji wiped his hands of the excess flour with a white cloth. “Not today, I’m afraid.” While he didn’t normally decline your requests, today was a necessary evil so he offered a bit of insight as a peace offering.
“It’s a celebratory meal. Something special for entering the Grand Line.” He explained, pride in his voice as he threw the towel over his shoulders. “So, today's menu is a secret that I won’t be sharing with anyone.”
“Not even me, Love Cook?”
Sanji’s eyes closed as he gave bashful smile at the nickname. You were pressing his buttons and it was taking all his willpower to resist. He hummed knowingly and then looked at you.
“You know I can see what you’re trying to do, right?”
You leaned forward, eyes staring into his blue ones before briefly - and not discretely - dipping to his lips. “Is it working?”
Sanji also leaned across the counter until his nose bumped lightly against yours.
“How about I make you a deal? Let me keep this one secret for a little longer and I’ll make it up to you. Cakes, kisses - whatever you want.”
You smiled back at him. “And what if both those options sound good?”
Sanji inched a little closer and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Whatever you want.”
~ More imagines here ~
2K notes · View notes
jaegerbby · 6 months
Text
➳ persistence
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--͙[katsuki bakugo x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 8244
╰┈➤ rundown; katsuki sees you through rose coloured glasses, you're his best friend after all. little does he know, you would do anything to have him.
╰┈➤ caution; alcohol consumption (legal drinking age is 18 in my country), bakugo cheats on his gf, possessiveness, jealousy, dry humping, choking, cunninglingus, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, belly bulge, size kink, virginity loss (mentions of blood), slight kaminari x yn, yn has small boobs.
not proof read !
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katsuki has been yours forever.
well, he has been your best friend forever.
although, katsuki is oblivious to how near and dear you hold him to your heart and the things you would do to have him.
you were prone to running girls off even if it meant spewing some preposterous lie.
you would do it all if it meant being able to fawn over katsuki like he was more than your best friend.
you spend every moment that you can with him.
you thought he loved your company the same but katsuki tells you he lost his virginity and you realise he was seeking love elsewhere.
he smashes your heart into a million pieces with just a sentence.
you stick closer to him, you thought he would heal your broken heart although he was the reason for it.
but he does it again, he takes it and rips it apart because two months later, you find out katsuki has a girlfriend.
you try to break them up.
you really do. you make yourself an issue.
what girl is okay with their boyfriend constantly around his girl best friend. what girl would tolerate that?
katsuki's girlfriend.
you find that out the hard way.
you disrupt their plans but somehow she finds herself there.
you delete messages she sends and she blames it on the network. not katsuki! never him!
he misses countless calls when he is with you but she does not mind!
you drive yourself insane trying to get rid of her.
it seems like she is here to stay.
---
you are eighteen when alcohol is legal and a hot commodity.
when your friend group rents a beach house with the sole purpose of getting wasted.
you see katsuki as soon as you step into the hall. you smile, well almost.
"what the fuck are you wearing?" you furrow your brows at his irritated tone. you swear boys are suppose to like this.
"a bathing suit."
"your entire ass is out." he scowls.
"okay? who cares?"
they do care. they all have their eyes on you.
izuku swallows hard when you smile at him and shouto almost stops breathing when your hip brushes his. katsuki is stalking around the house like he wants to lay claim. like he is seconds away from pissing all over you.
it is on the tip of your tongue to tell him to worry about his girlfriend.
she comes downstairs a second later and is all over him. you are jealous. of course you are! he is letting her do all the things he should have given to you.
the alcohol is all you have to quell you over. when kaminari starts feeling you up, who are you to deny it? he is slurring words with his body flush to yours and katsuki seethes for the world to see.
"you're so pretty and your body." he whistles. you giggle in his face, your arms around his shoulders to press your breasts to his bare abdomen.
he is a good looking guy but he would never compare to katsuki. kaminari's hands trail lower, thumbing the fabric of your bathing suit.
you find katsuki whose jaw locks tighter the longer you are in kaminari's arms. whose knuckles have turned white from being wrapped in fists.
"i've wanted to fuck you for so long." he rasps, you can definitely feel his erection digging into your tummy.
you smile, your lips brushing his "then why haven't you?"
katsuki has had enough.
he yanks kaminari back by his hair and roughly shoves him into the wall. you wince.
"what the fuck, bakugo?" everyone though tipsy is alerted by the scene. katsuki is intimidating and as bad as you feel for kaminari you are stifling a grin behind your palms.
"do you want me to kill you?" katsuki nears him, smoke seems to blow out his nose like a raging bull.
"for what?" katsuki has only gotten bigger over the years, his abs flex as he breathes hard and his bicep swells when he reaches for kaminari.
you step in front of him and katsuki looks murderous as he glares at you.
"yn, move." you are all wide eyed and playing innocent.
"i won't let you hit him."
"you're choosing that dunce over me?" his brows tilt up. you do not say a word. "you let him touch you. you were asking him to fuck you."
it is exactly how you want it to go. his girlfriend furrows her brows. you do not know if it is the alcohol, anger or jealousy but katsuki does not care.
"katsuki." you hate the way his name sounds on her tongue.
"why do you care?" he tenses. she comes up to his side, pulling on his arm.
you want them to fight, you want to draw her to her breaking point and finally push her over the edge.
it should have happened years ago.
---
it is way into the morning, about 1:43 am. everyone is in the rooms, black out drunk and desperately needing to recuperate.
you are on your phone on the couch, still dressed in your bathing suit.
you sit up when katsuki walks down the stairs in a short sweatpants and a tshirt. his hair pushed back by a bando, one of yours he had taken years ago.
he settles right next to you, your feet pulled to your chest and facing him though he is staring at the blank screen of the tv.
"how'd you get her to quiet down?"
"there are men here and they think like men and you still wore that." really he wants to say, i'm a man. a filthy fucked up one that has longed to wreck the friendship between you.
his eyes meet yours looking at your features with so much softness before they lower to all the skin you have on display, your tits, your stomach, the scars and he knows the story for each one.
there are birthmarks he has never seen before, katsuki wants to know more, about you.
his eyes only grow darker, primal, everything in him wants you. he has for a long time.
you ignore his words "did you fuck her?" he scowls "i wouldn't fuck her and then come to you." you scoff.
katsuki's eyes trail to the curve of your cunt, barely covered by that scrap of fabric, the way you have your legs up only makes it more prominent.
"liar. over the last two years, you fucked her and now you're here." his eyes flicker to yours. you rest your phone on the cushion as you lean over to him, his tongue swiping over his lips when your bare ass comes into his view.
you straddle his lap, his legs spread and his bulge pressing into you immediately. his large hands find your hips, holding you as he thrusts up. his erection has you gasping. your hands find purchase in his fluffy blond hair.
you are still smaller than him, you have always been. your face nears his, you want to break down and cry.
"you're my best friend, suki, aren't you supposed to know my every want?" your hips grind into his, panting and mewling into his face, you have not done this before.
your cunt soaks through the thin fabric, it feels wet and slimy. your hips roll against him, why did his dick feel so good when it was not even inside you?
you do not want to stop, you want to do it all and now.
"i do."
"liar."
he thrusts up into your weeping slit and you whine as your body grows hotter. your eyes fixate on his, his hands grip your cheeks and they are so big you feel safe.
you feel like nothing can hurt you so long as he is around. you tilt your head to kiss the side of his palm.
"you want me to kiss you, you want me to touch you." he brings you close until your lips brush. he smells so good, he feels so good and right with you.
"you want me to fuck your little baby pussy that's rubbing on my cock so perfectly and make you mine." you nod your head, gripping onto him more. you have never heard him talk like that, never.
your head goes into a daze. "you want me, you've always wanted me."
"i know you." tears leak from your eyes and katsuki's lips part before he kisses you.
he kisses you and it far exceeds the countless times you dreamed about it. it feels more than fireworks and electricity, katsuki feels like love.
he feels like patience and understanding. katsuki kisses like you are all he needs and all he wants. he kisses with as much feeling as you have harboured for him in all your years of existence.
his lips languidly move along yours, thumb stroking your cheeks and keeping you close.
you practically melt into him more, your breasts flush to his chest, kissing him deeper as you hump his erection. he pulls away and you are breathless, his hands cupping the bare flesh of your ass to help you fuck yourself on him.
"tell me you didn't fuck some other guy." he winces, his forehead meeting yours.
hypocrite, selfish, unfair. that is what he is.
"i didn't." you concede, gripping his shoulders tighter.
"are you just... saying that cause i want to hear it?" you press your lips to his again and katsuki cups the back of your head to kiss you as deeply as he can. to sink his tongue in your mouth and claim it for himself.
your hands pull the strings on either side of your suit's bottoms, tugging it off before your cunt meets the fabric of his shorts and strands of slick coat it.
"fuck me. fuck me and you'll know."
he groans, reaching around you to untie your top.
"such a gorgeous girl." the praise is entirely unfamiliar, katsuki has never called you gorgeous.
"your pussy is so wet, baby. i can feel it already." his hands grope your breasts, tweaking at your nipples that sting with sensitivity. his hands trail over your sternum and squeeze the flesh of your hips.
they feel rough and calloused. like they have lived a life, one you have been there for every second of since he called your name.
your cunt soaks his shorts and leaves a wet patch on the grey fabric but you cannot stop humping him. not when it feels so good, not when your cunt is clenching and the friction is stimulating you.
"i can't wait to have this tight little hole stretched around me, can't wait to fuck you open and have you shaped to my cock. mine alone." his fingers thread through your hair.
"do it suki, please, please put it in." your naked body writhes against him, your hips rocking and stuttering,
you cannot help your moans or the way you are constantly biting on your lips. you are depraved and desperate but katsuki has ruined you from the moment you laid eyes on him.
tears trail down your cheeks from the overwhelming feeling between your legs, from the way he looks at and touches you.
"kat it's so big." you mewl, bowing your head and looking at the way your cunt rubs along him.
his rough fingertips find your clit and your jaw hangs as he rubs the bundle of stilted nerves. your face is in the crook of his neck, losing all composure.
"cunt's messy. i want you to cum for me." you whine, your hips grinding harder. hands knotted in his tshirt.
"are you close?" your thighs are locking up and your abdomen feels unbelievably tight, your pussy constantly clenches. "uh huh." his hand grips your throat to make you look at him. "i want to see it, i want to see your eyes roll back, your mouth water and how fucked out your face looks when your pussy is creaming."
your body bounces on his lap, lips parted as he presses your forehead to his. "suki, it feels good, you feel so good." a smile crosses his pretty face.
"yeah? getting yourself off on my cock feels good? nasty girl, you're rubbing your dripping little cunt on me and you're enjoying it." his mouth meets yours in a searing kiss. "i'm enjoying it too, no one compares to you, no one is as pretty or as perfect as you." he whispers, like the only one that matters is you.
your body halts, jerking still on his lap because he is stroking your clit like he has known your body forever. like this is all familiar.
your fingers wrap around his wrist and katsuki grips your throat a bit tighter. just as he expected, just like his daydreams, only ten times better, your eyes roll, drool drips from your pretty mouth and you are the most stunning when your body is overcome by an orgasm.
the first one he has seen from you. "that's it, fuck, baby, doing so well." you whine at the praise, his words itch a part of your brain you never knew about.
your cunt creaming and soaking his pants, there is a wet patch and a sticky mess between your legs. you want to be filled so badly.
you do not think you can function if he does not. you are panting before he releases your throat and you slump into his strong body. he pushes back your hair and holds you close to him, you are all sweaty and his body temperature only makes you hotter.
his hands rub and caress all over you, his chin on your head before he wraps you in a tight hug. "i need to see you like that again, look so fucking pretty." you swallow hard, that sounds so much like a promise for the future. one with you and him.
he kisses your forehead "do you want to have sex?"
you perk up, bobbing your head. "of course i want to."
you are surprised when he brushes your cheek and his expression is saddened.
"this isn't the only time, you know that?" you slowly nod your head. "if you want to wait, i will. we can take things slow."
katsuki, katsuki, katsuki, how could you ever want anyone else.
"i waited long enough. i really want you to fuck me, ki." his eyes grow hooded. he presses a soft peck to your lips before he shifts you off his lap.
he removes his tshirt to reveal full pecs, toned abs, and a deep v line. all things you have seen before. all things you have day dreamed about but you have never seen him right before he would fuck you.
you have never looked at him knowing he would be in your body.
katsuki's skin ripples in defined muscles, any where you look you would see it. his eyes meet yours and your bread hitches. a smile crossing his features softly. his arms rest on either side of your body, gaze flicking to your messy cunt as he leans closer.
his mouth presses to yours in a soft gentle kiss and you find yourself following him when he pulls away. his nose nuzzles yours. "let's go upstairs, i'll get a condom."
you tense. here you are stripped bare, for him to see, for him to touch and have and own the way you have always wanted.
she is upstairs, in his room while you are on the living room couch waiting to be fucked.
you cannot find it in yourself to care.
"what are you thinking about?" his forehead meets yours. his eyes are so red, so red that you want them to draw you in and never let you go. you want them forever, you want him.
"do you use condoms with her?" his brows draw together, he does not want to talk about her but he will answer every question you have.
"always." no hesitation, no dishonesty.
you are immature, especially when it comes to him. "i'm different to you. i'm not like her. right kat?"
katsuki wants to wrap you up in his arms and keep you from the world. he wants to keep you to himself. he should have done it from the start.
kat, ki, suki, they are all his, they are all yours and that is one of the many ways that shows how different you are.
he breathes a heavy breath "you're everything." your hands cup either side of his nape.
"then show me. you shouldn't want something between us." not when it’s me.
katsuki regrets that those words even came out of his mouth. his eyes flick over your features before his large palm is pressing on your chest. you lie back under the weight of his searing touch, under the weight of his heavy gaze.
his lips leave wet kisses to your cheek before he drifts lower. you whine when his tongue laves over your perked nipple. all hot and sticky with saliva. the rough pad of his thumb rolls the darkened flesh before he takes it back into his mouth and circles the bud with his tongue.
your legs jolt, although your bare skin meets katsuki's body. katsuki who is above you completely with his body between your legs. he is so close you cannot think, you can hardly breathe.
"when we were younger." he trails off, leaning closer to press his stiff bulge against your messy cunt. your fingers curl into your palms.
"i used to wonder how big these would get." his hands grope your chest, your breast that have not changed much, have not grown much.
"but i like them this way. so much." his hands are so big, they only make the mounds of flesh look smaller. as he touches and squeezes. as he flusters you.
"why?" your voice seems ten times harder to get out. his mouth covers yours, pressing deep and your eyes tightly close. you whine when he pulls back
"cause it gets me so fucking hard." his voice is rough, you want to hear it that way forever. your hips tilt up to press against him more, where his pants are already soaked with your cum.
katsuki groans before his mouth meets your stomach and he trails kisses down the soft flesh. the closer he gets to the dripping slit between your legs the more you tense.
"kat, wait." your hand reaches for his hair but your fingers keen into themselves when his tongue trails over your stiff clit. your back arches, lips parting.
"why should i? i waited long enough." you said the same and here katsuki is with his mouth over your cunt and amusement all over his face. you cannot look at him.
"it's weird!" his breath hits your soaking mess as he lightly laughs. your legs lift and your toes curl when his heated tongue glides through your opening in a languid stroke.
"tell me how weird it is that my mouth is on your pretty little pussy, that i'm finally getting to taste how sweet you are." your hands rest on your lips and you swallow hard.
katsuki leans in to lap at the cum and the slick that seems never ending. you can hardly keep your eyes open yet you look at him.
with his hooded eyes and you in his mouth. his fingers reach between your legs to pull your lips apart. to spread open your slit and your body jerks when he spits a thick ball of heady saliva into you.
the tip of his tongue glides through the mess before you feel it dipping inside you. your eyes widen and your entire body squirms. your hips rocking, you are not sure if you want to pull away or press more into him.
his strong hands hold your legs open and then he is shoving into you, until your eyes roll and his nose is nuzzled to your clit. your cunt squelches at the intrusion, gummy sticky walls pushed apart.
your fingers dig into the broadness of his shoulders "suki." you cry his name, it is so strange. to have something so foreign inside. to have someone's mouth much less their tongue there.
you are not quite prepared for him to move the wriggling muscle. no nothing could prepare you for the feeling of a tongue squirming inside your cunt and stroking your walls.
katsuki is fucking you with his tongue.
your hips jerk, and tears leak down your face without you realising. your hands tangle in his hair and all he does is press deeper and move faster.
your eyes meet his and you moan so disgustingly loud. his eyes are dark and they look mean. you can feel him everywhere. the muscles in your legs pulsate, he is sucking on you, he is eating you up and you grip his hair so tight because there are no coherent thoughts in your head.
the sounds fuck with you the most, the sounds are sloppy and sticky. the longer you hear it the more your brain turns to mush.
he will not stop, he will not give you a moment to breathe not as you moan and cry, not as you tug his hair or dig your nails into his scalp.
your cunt continuously clenches around the invasive muscle. your stomach feels unbelievably tight, "you're so gross." yet your hips are rocking, yet you are enjoying it. katsuki's tongue moves rougher and your eyes roll back so hard you are disoriented.
"ki, seriously! i'm gonna cum." your voice is watery and jumbled. you think he will stop, isn't he supposed to? but katsuki does not. no, not until you cream in his mouth and all over his face. your body jerks and tenses, you swear you are drooling and there are tears in your eyes.
you are already a mess, when his tongue slips out of your soaked hole you grit your teeth. your entire being is still stuttering with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
katsuki has liquid down his jaw and lips, some is even in his hair. he lies on top of you, his face close and his cock on your sensitive cunt. he is heavy, all you can feel is hard muscle and his skin as bare as yours.
"you taste like heaven, got the sweetest little pussy." he swipes at your tears and your legs fold on either side of him. "you're gross." he cocks his eyebrow "cause i want to eat your dripping cunt forever? or cause i want to drink up all the cum that comes out of it? which one makes me gross?"
you squeeze your eyes, it makes your heart feel all weird and your cunt throb. you wonder if he can feel it. if he can feel how hard you are pulsating all over.
"open those pretty eyes." his fingers grip your jaw and you whine. you are so flustered, you are so disoriented. katsuki spins you tight and messes up your head.
"all of it, katsu." you are a whimpering mess. you cannot think properly. not when you are naked, not when he is plastered to your skin. you want him inside of you. you want to know what it feels like so badly.
"katsu." he rolls the name around his tongue. you have not called him that in years. you have not called him that since you were kids.
he wonders what you then would say if she saw you now, if she knew how you would be. if she would be as angry as you are because he had been with someone else.
"take it off." you mutter, your hand cupping the hardness of his bulge. it is borderline painful. he has been hard since he sat next to you.
he swallows, sitting up to shove the restrictive material down. your body shifts on the couch as you see his length. long thick, the head a mixture of pink and brown. you have never seen one before.
his balls look heavy, you cannot help but wonder what they would feel like. in your hand, in your mouth. his fingers run across the short blonde pubic hair before he grips the base and squeezes, pre cum leaks from the tip.
he is quick to collect it and stroke it over the bluish veins along his shaft. his eyes meet yours, he looks at your expression. why do you look so in awe?
his defined muscles flex as he comes over you again. he crowds you into the corner of the couch, like he wants to keep you only for himself. only for his eyes.
your legs hook on his hips, his cock pressing into the flesh of your abdomen. he is so close, he is so close to being inside.
"how's it going to fit, ki?" you puff and the groan he lets out is bordering a loss of self control. he hesitates, will it fit? will all of this really fit in your tight little hole? where would it end in your body?
"we'll make it fit, right? tell me you'll make it fit, katsu." there it is again and he is losing his mind. what did you get out of calling him that besides ruining his head? he is already obsessed with you, did you want to make him psychotic too?
you are stripped naked with your cunt an inch away from his length practically begging him to stuff you so full you will ache. katsuki has lost it.
he tries to crack a smile but it is shaky, his thick fingers stroke between your slit and you sigh.
"yeah." it is so unsure, his voice cracks "we'll make it fit, i'll get it all in this cunt." his digits press into your walls, pushing passed the swollen flesh that seems to resist.
the gummy blood filled walls that make you so unbelievably tight. you gasp at the intrusion.
"just have to get this tight hole to loosen up." that seems easier said than done. why are you so tight? why do your walls grip him so viciously and hold him so close?
"fuck, baby. how am i supposed to stretch you out when you're so little?" his mouth meets yours, while his fingers slowly slip in and out of you.
he called you baby.
his mouth coaxes over yours, his lips gliding along yours like he was made for you.
your hips rock as he plunges his digits to his knuckles. everything he does feels good. he could look at you and you would still be this much of a mess.
your hand wraps around his length and katsuki's muscles flex. they flex and ripple, you wish you could see the way every single one contorts.
he grits his teeth, forehead rolling over yours, his jaw clenching before it hangs. he is so beautiful. his eyes lock on where you hold him. where the softness is so mind blowing, where your finger tips do not touch. where you are stroking his reddened cock the way he imagined.
it felt better, your slow, inexperienced strokes feel so much fucking better.
his fingers slam into you, palm grinding into your clit as he quickens his pace. your pussy sputters and wetness coats his digits. some splattering under the force of his movements.
your mouth drops in a moan, all breathy and pretty. "fucking pussy is in love with me. dripping all over, for me. such a loud nasty little cunt. who's it for?" your hand tightens around his base and drags along the length, enough to make him pant.
"you, katsu. it's yours, always been yours." your hips grind and fuck against him, legs spreading wider on instinct. you are so inviting. you are so perfect.
your eyes are barely staying open, your hand jerks his length. there is sweat on your skin. your chest heaving. he pulls his hand from your messy cunt, sticky strands connecting him to you before he collects the pre cum from his tip and presses it to your mouth.
your mouth opens to lap and suck and clean the liquid from his digits. your little hand growing more vigorous in your strokes, it only makes katsuki hump into the space between your fingers. "i want to fill you all over, i want to fuck you everywhere. this baby mouth, this vice pussy and this teasing little ass. i want to stuff your belly and holes with my cum. i want to cover you in it."
he is so nasty, he shoves into your mouth until you gag, until spit pools in your mouth and you drink it all down again. he cups your cheek and presses the sweetest kiss to your mouth, a soft wet smack filling the empty room.
katsuki is perfection incarnate.
he sits up on his knees, your hand slipping from his length as he grips your hips and pulls you lower. your legs spread and his cock resting on your abdomen.
his large hand spans out pressing his length against your flesh as he trails to the head. pre cum pools from the slit and katsuki's eyebrows bind together so tight. his jaw locks and his red eyes have gone black.
he is sizing you up. he is trying to figure out where exactly his cock is going to reach in you. you are breathless, you are a mess. katsuki has always been bigger than you.
he is lean muscle but they bulge so wide they make themselves present. he is all hard defined rivets in the planes of his skin.
"are you sure you want to do it?" his eyes lock with yours. why would he ask that like you would not say yes a million times?
"i am. i've never been more sure of something." i've never been more sure it's you. katsuki will always be the one. always.
"i want to have sex with you, i want you inside of me." he swallows hard. then his face relaxes, he looks so soft.
"tell me if it hurts. i'll stop if you want me to." he reaches down, leaning more over you as he strokes his length. his stiff cock bobs before his head is mushed into the sticky flesh of your pussy.
you gasp, looking at him breach your entrance. your slit slowly being pulled apart. katsuki was relaxed, he was but now his heart is beating out of his chest.
he has never had raw sex before. he has never been inside without a condom. you feel better than anything, even with a condom he is sure you would be better. you are better.
your pussy is warm and wet, so unbelievably wet. he does not know if your gummy walls are sucking on him or sucking him in, he thinks it might be both. he pushes in until the swollen flesh of his head is surrounded by your sticky hole.
you both let out laboured breaths. katsuki is inside you, he is inside of you and he cannot think. he wants to burn this moment into his brain and eye lids. he wants to think about this forever.
you feel so tight, warm and wet that katsuki feels like he will cum. he will cum and fill you up and he will want to do it again and again.
"how are you this good?" he grits his teeth. "your pussy keeps holding me, so tightly. how am i supposed to fuck you if you won't let me move?" he covers you, his face in front of yours, one hand cupping your throat and the other stroking your waist.
"rub your little clit for me and loosen up. you want my cock in you, right? you want me to fuck your cunt, don't you?" you whine, your hand reaching between your soft skin and his muscular flesh.
finding the stilted bundle of nerves and roughly rolling it. you cannot think, you cannot think at all. katsuki is inside of you and you are looking into his eyes.
how can you function?
"katsu, i want it so bad. i want you to fuck me so bad." your cunt gushes around him. you soak him again and again.
"yeah, want my cock to spread you open and fill up this pussy." he shoves in an inch more and you swear it sucks the life out of you.
"put it all in, please. i don't care if it hurts." he pants into your face, easing in more and more of his heady length. it feels like it goes on forever.
tears stream down your cheeks and your hand grips the back of his nape.
"such a good girl, pretty girl. you're doing so well." you whine, you want to cry and scream for him.
you are insanely tight and you are insanely hot.
you wrap around him and guzzle, you squeeze and you slurp him up.
katsuki cannot fuck you with a condom. he could never do it after feeling you like this.
"how much more is there, katsu?" your voice is as teary as your eyes. he brings your hand away from your clit to hold his nape. both of your hands intertwining before they lace in the spiky blonde strands near the base of his neck.
"a little more. breathe for me." and you do, you do as he anchors his hands on your hips. he slams into you so hard your cunt squelches, so hard your back arches off the couch and your voice pitches up into a broken cry of his name.
it is more than a little, you feel so stretched out, so pulled wide and filled to the brin. tears leak down your face
"it feels like." you trail off with dazed eyes "you're in my guts. no, my throat." katsuki pants above you
"i am." his voice is warbled. when you stare up at him in confusion, you follow where his gaze is locked. your entire body vibrates, there is a bulge in your stomach, there is a bulge where his cock is seated deep inside you.
your pussy tightens up around him so suddenly that katsuki hisses. "it's so deep, katsu." your head drops back onto the cushion, your legs hooking around his hips. his pelvis is flush to yours, he is buried inside you. he pulled you apart to shove himself inside.
you grip him so perfectly that katsuki feels like he will faint. he feels like he is blacking out.
"can you move?" you whine.
katsuki does not think he can.
he might just cum inside you this very moment.
he nods, leaning back to hold your legs open by the back of your knees. you lift yourself onto your elbows, both of you watching as he pulls out to just beneath his head, sticky strands of your slick covering his length and dripping from it before he slams straight to the base.
the bulge in your stomach appears again. you moan so loud, katsuki wants to hear it again and again.
you both watch him enter and exit you, watch him pound his heady cock into your walls. it feels so good your head is a mess.
he only fucks into you a few times, only makes a good few strokes before he stops.
"fuck you're bleeding. does it hurt?" his eyes are so filled with concern whilst yours only have lust.
you shake your head, "don't stop, katsu, don't stop."
your legs tighten around him, practically urging him to keep slamming the thickness of his cock inside of you.
"baby." he mutters unsurely, his fingers pressing into your skin.
"you got your answer, please keep fucking me. it feels so good." your head drops to the cushion as you grope your breasts. your nipples have never been this sensitive before. you want his mouth on them again. you tweak the buds as the gears turn in katsuki's head.
"you were a virgin." he breathes, you roll your hips. why won't he fuck you?
"fuck me, suki. harder." you whine and you jolt when he covers you. when your legs are pressed tight to your chest and his hand grips your throat. he presses down on the sides and when he really does fuck you, his thrusts are brutal and deep. he puts all of his weight into it as he fucks your pussy.
"does it feel that good, you want me pounding my cock into your freshly opened pussy?" you mewl, nails finding purchase in his back as you leave scratches down the ripples of muscle.
"you let me stretch out and pull apart your virgin cunt. you're bleeding all over my cock. that means you're mine." you nod, you bob your head with no hesitation.
"m'yours, yours." you babble as his cock is thrust into your walls. brushing your cervix and making you see stars. he slams so hard into you that there are wet smacking noises between your sexes. there are hard lashes of skin on skin.
his fingers hold your throat, you are so little under him he feels like he will crush it if he is not careful. your thighs tremble and your body jerks.
he is so heavy and he is so big and the way he feels sends your head into overdrive.
you are a spiralling mess. he huffs in your face, readjusting and you did not think he could go harder but he does.
he does and you shriek.
drool drips down your jaw and your eyes roll. you never thought it would feel that good.
you never really considered that a cock would warm you from the inside out.
katsuki's tongue laves over your tears and the whimper you let out drives him insane.
he is past the point of return.
every vein, ridge and bump on his cock is stroked by you. your cunt tries so hard to clamp down and keep him in until you have memorised them all, until you have taken his shape.
"why'd you keep this from me? all these years we could've been." he groans at the thought "we could've been fucking, i could've had you and this pussy from the start."
your legs tremble, barely perched on either side of his hips. your nails digging further in his skin to find your bearings. katsuki's hands are on you, he is in you. it feels like something out of a dream.
"i didn't keep it from you, i kept it for you." your words are forced out and broken, you can hardly speak with the constant pressure in your body.
"i used to think about you, about what i would do if you ever let me. i used to jerk off to you, all the fucking time." he grits his teeth, strokes growing more forceful, they hit deeper than before. they hit and caress every single spot inside you. "i rubbed my dick raw because i wanted you. why didn't you just tell me, baby? i would've given you it all. i'm giving you it all."
your fingers wrap around his wrist, he is so big. he is so big all over it makes you delirious. you are practically tugging his forearm closer to your chest.
"m'sorry, katsu." your eyes meet and katsuki breathes hard.
you look ditzy, you look downright brainless. he has never seen you like this, spit slicked lips, drooling and crying. getting filled with cock and becoming a fucked out mess.
this is his, this is his because no one else has seen it.
how can katsuki stay mad at you? how can he punish you for the past when you are giving him this?
he throbs inside you, he cannot seem to stop fucking you, he wants to do it forever. he wants to be wrapped up in the oasis between your pretty plush thighs forever.
you reach for his jaw, trembling fingers gracing the sharp perimeter. you want him close. you wonder how much closer you can get him than buried inside your cunt, than him prodding your cervix. than him nestled in your heart for years. you want him closer than that. he draws nearer, his nose nuzzling yours before soft pink lips meet yours.
"you're too good for me." you whine, his brows tilt up and he looks so pained. "but i can't handle seeing you with someone else." you shake your head.
oh never never never.
you have never wanted someone else.
you never will.
no one could ever compare to katsuki.
"i'm yours, only yours." you cry.
"yeah? you're mine, you'll always be mine and i'm yours." there is not an ounce of air in your body because he took it all. the shift of his hips is slow, it is slow and intentional.
he is yours. katsuki is yours. just as he is meant to be.
"promise?" you sound like the most precious thing ever.
you are. that is what you are.
"i swear, baby." your legs are jelly, they have lost all feeling. they shaking every time his thighs hit the back of yours. you cannot even stop them from spasming every once in a while. katsuki fucks hard, he gets deep and messes up everything.
he gets so deep your head is empty but so full. so full of him and the feeling. you feel everything ten times more.
your back arches "katsu, please." he hums, his hand rubs your little throat before he squeezes again. your jaw hangs. he is nasty. so nasty.
"what do you want?" his voice is baritone and love. his voice is what you want to hear the second you wake up and the minute before you fall asleep.
"you, just want you." you should not have said that, that seems to send katsuki far beyond a point he was trying so hard to avoid. the way he slams into you now is brutal, you feel the way your cunt clenches when he pulls out and the way he stretches you open all over again.
the bulge in your stomach is constantly reappearing. liquid drips from your slit down your ass and his balls. it splatters from your nasty union to the couch, to your skin and his. it froths up around his base until the blonde of his pubic hair is soaked. you bind him so tight in slick gummy walls, he does not think he will ever get this out of his head.
no he will remember this when he is at school, when he is supposed to be listening to lectures he will be hearing your messy cunt instead. he will hear the sopping noises your cunt makes when she is getting pounded.
when he is working out he will want you under him. katsuki will not be able to keep his hands off you after this.
he curses, fingers biting into your skin, he is over you completely. his forehead presses down on yours. he is gripping you so hard you swear it will bruise.
his finger marks will be on your skin and every one will know katsuki fucked you.
"ease up before i cum in you." katsuki's abs tense, they tighten up so much they hurt.
you puff into his face "you don't you want to?" cause you want him to. you want his seed spilled deep inside of you. you want your cunt creamed by him. you squeeze him so suddenly katsuki grunts.
"of course i fucking want to." his eyes narrow, sweat drips down his hairline. you did not realise how much he was sweating until his sticky skin glistens.
"i want to cum so deep in your pussy you'll never forget it. i want to fill you up and make you keep it in." his hips stutter and his movements grow sloppy. he is so close.
"then do it katsu, i need it. i need your cum." he whimpers. you have certainly never heard him like that before.
"you need it?" his voice is soft and the second you nod he sees white. his arms wrap around your waist to press you flush to him. his head drops to your chest and your hands stroke his hair as he pumps his hips.
deliberately and forceful.
you feel the weight of it more so. he groans into your chest, eyes tightly shut before his pelvis meets yours with no space between. where he is buried to the hilt.
his muscles spasm and your eyes roll when you feel his cock throb and vapid spurts are shot into you.
you feel like he paints your insides and it is so hot you are shaking. you can see the way his back ripples as he cums, the way he breathes heavy and feel his arms bulge as he holds you close.
you can make out reddened ears and blushing cheeks. your fingers thread through his hair, leaning into to press your nose to the crown of his head where blonde tuffs stick into the air.
his hips shallowly rock, pumping your pussy full of his seed and you tense as it leaks past the perimeter of his cock down your slit.
he shakily breathes before he wetly kisses up your sternum. you think all the air leaves your lungs when he kisses your lips.
"i love you."
you flinch when you hear it. there is absolutely no way he said that.
"you're just saying that cause you fucked me" you avoid him or you try to. it is hard to avoid a man that has his cock inside of you.
"no. i love you, i love you more than you know. and i'm sorry i fucked up. i'm sorry i took so long to say it." he tries to pacify you but you are stubborn.
you think you just might cry.
"can you take it out?" katsuki's face contorts but you have no clue what his expression means. he slowly straightens up, his hands cupping beneath your knees.
when he pulls out, his cum leaks from you. you wince from the feeling but katsuki loves the sight. he thinks filling you with his cum is the greatest thing he has ever done.
he regrets not doing it sooner.
you reach for his shirt once he is off of you. you tug the material over your body, you cannot help but lift it to your nose and inhale his scent. katsuki should have been yours. he was always meant to be yours so why did he find you so late when you were there all along?
katsuki smells like all the years and memories you shared with him. katsuki smells like love and comfort.
he notices you nuzzling his shirt and he swears there is nothing as precious as you. he pulls his shorts up.
you stand slowly, gritting your teeth. "it's dripping." katsuki needs you to be quiet before he gets hard again.
he needs you to be quiet before he makes you spread your legs so he can get his mouth on your cunt again. so he can drink all the cum he filled your pussy with and stuff you full with more.
he reaches for your hand, softly stroking it with his thumb. "c'mon."
"where?" you remain still despite him trying to pull you along with him.
"to my room."
katsuki feels his heart drop when you yank your hand away.
"your stupid girlfriend is up there." you roll of your eyes. katsuki was just inside you, he came inside you. all the remnants are leaking down your thighs and you are acting like that?
his brows knit in frustration and although you like to act as though katsuki can never move you, truth is, he can. he grips your wrist and pulls you up the stairs with no issue.
even as you protest. you try to argue as quietly as possible because the last thing you want is to alert everyone in the house.
"katsuki, are you crazy?" he shoves open the door and once you are inside he locks it.
"katsuki?" he stares at you incredulously, "what happened to katsu? what happened between then and now for you to act like this?"
and you are crying, you look so miserable. he thinks you look too cute for your own good but he wants to curb your tears instantly.
"she's still your girlfriend." you brokenly say.
"i broke up with her. i wouldn't do that to you, i wouldn't sleep with you while i was with someone else. we had sex because i'm yours okay? i always have been."
katsuki aches to pull you close, to wipe your tears.
"she's leaving in the morning. it's just you and me. it should've been like that from the start." he cannot take it anymore, he pulls you into his chest. you who fits into him so perfectly, you were made for him and him for you. he sees that now.
"i know i don't deserve it, i don't deserve you but can you say i love you?"
you brokenly sob, "i love you, i love you. i love you, katsu. love you so much." you cry like those words were waiting for an opportunity to escape. to finally be in the world.
katsuki is yours, just like you wanted.
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can you tell i love him sm sm
2K notes · View notes
peachypinkygloss · 8 months
Text
fanatic love — pjm
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When Jimin knew about your crush on him, you didn't expect him to invite you to his apartment and to get rid of your clothes once there, but you surely don't mind at all.
ꨄ︎ pairing: popular!jimin x inexperienced/fem!reader
ꨄ︎ genre: college au, friends to lovers, smut
ꨄ︎ word count: 4k
ꨄ︎ warnings: she's DOWN BAD, but jimin likes how in love she is with him, dom jimin/sub reader, praising & degradation, a bit of dumbification, unprotected sex, masturbation (f & m), brief anal play, lots of cum (as always), overstimulation, multiple orgasms.
a.n.: you ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 call me!jk's next on the list :)
When Jimin discovered you had a big fat crush on him, it's not what you thought would happen.
You're not good at keeping secrets, even your own, so your friends knew all about your silly crush on Park Jimin — the godly handsome popular boy from your college.
You've never really talked to him, but it doesn't take you a lot to fall in love. To be frank, the only thing you share with him is a friend group and even then you've never had the chance to exchange more than three words with him.
Well, all of this has changed now. Never in a million years you'd have thought you'd step foot into his apartment, not even his bedroom, and surely not to have that type of conversation with him — if you can call it a conversation anyway.
But here you are, backing away as he steps forward, looking intensely into your eyes. He has such a serious expression on his face and you don't understand why he does, the only thing you know is that it's making your panties wet. Really wet.
"You'd do everything I ask, right?" His voice is soft, but also stern, making you swallow as stress rises up in your body; heart beating faster, hands slightly trembling, sweat forming on your forehead.
His simple presence makes you anxious, wishing you'll do nothing stupid that could make him lose interest in you. Don't disappoint him.
"Yes," you murmur, your stare fixated on him and your back eventually hitting the wall behind you. You don't want to run away from him — never would you — but you're not used to all of this.
Anything he asks, you'll do. Whatever it is; a crush, love, obsession, it doesn't matter because all you want to do is please him, to be the one who'll make his day better, to be the one he'll think about just before going to sleep.
He already does those things for you, so why not do them for him, too.
"Good girl," he praises and your face immediately heats up. Hearing that from him makes you happy and you want to continue being good for him.
Up close to him like that you can see how beautiful he truly is, reminding you just how much you love him, how hard your heart beats for him.
His dark brown eyes are disconcertingly soft and his lips are round, big — looking so pillowy, so inviting. You don't feel indifferent under his gaze, that's what you like the most about it; how unique you are when he looks at you because you have to be if you catch Park Jimin's attention.
It's so hard to be that close to him and not having the permission to touch him. You'd love to feel the smoothness of his skin or have your fingers run through his thick, shiny blond hair. You like the contrast between his dark eyebrows and the bleached colour of his hair, it makes them stand out more.
"Come here, sweet thing," he tells you in a raspy voice, his tone low and making you shiver in desire. You take one step and your breaths are already mingling together, your head tilted up to look at him. "Let's get those clothes off, hm? Isn't that a good idea?"
You eagerly nod your head at him, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as his hands come to grip your white blouse. He expertly pops out the buttons one by one, your eyes following his movements closely, his touch making you feel hotter and hotter.
His fingers are adorned in many chunky silver rings, his nails are cut short and a small tattoo is hiding on the side of his index finger of his left hand. Veins are apparent on his hands going all down to his forearms, making them look so sinful and strong — the epitome of lust itself.
He opens the button that shows your breasts supported by your bra, the contact of his skin against yours making your heart skip a beat. "Your hands are so cold," you whisper to him, shyly glancing up at his face.
He doesn't look back at you, his attention being fully on unbuttoning the piece of clothing, but he answers two simple words; "I know."
Your eyes go back down to his fingers, seeing that he only has one button left and he doesn't hesitate to pop it out. He slides the material off your shoulders, throwing it away on the floor of his bedroom.
You're left in your skirt, and even though you feel very vulnerable right now with your chest out, you're impatient for him to discover the lower half of your body, too. So far, you aren't disappointing him, which feels good.
He unzips your skirt and tugs it down, falling down at your feet. You shrug it away, Jimin admiring your half nude body with his beautiful almond-eyes.
"Look at how pretty you are," he compliments. "And all for me."
You sheepishly smile when hearing these words, turned on he's addressing you as his, as if everything you do and think is about him. And he'd be right about that.
His hands hovers just over your hips, his fingertips tracing the shape of your curves, going up and down so slowly, making goosebumps appear on your skin.
Your chest heaves rapidly and the temperature of the room starts to get higher, leaving you breathless and flustered. This moment is very intimate and him being able to see what kind of underwear you wear is so, so personal.
Underclothes are like a secret you only reveal to the people you trust the most and this status doesn't go to anyone, it applies to a very selective handful of people. And in some cases, to only one person.
Jimin being this person is just unbelievable, and there's nobody else you'd let see you like that. Nobody, only him.
His hands sneak behind you to reach the clip of your bra and he swiftly unhooks it. Your eyes are on him, scared to look away for a second, as the garment falls on the ground. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting them, Jimin's stare on them.
He licks his lips and gently cups your breasts, cutting your breath short. "How cute are they, mh?" He asks in a honeyed voice, melting your heart, taking your sanity away bit by bit.
He pinches your buds between his fingers, making them even harder, slowly circling them. You softly whine, feeling your stomach twist from the sensations he procures to you by playing with your nipples. They point at him, perky and erected, and he smirks, enjoying how they seem to really like him.
His hands descend along your stomach, your muscles twitching under his cold fingertips, teasing the band of your panties. It's when his eyes shift up to your face, maybe asking for permission or just to check up on you, that your heart jumps in your chest.
He passes his digit over the bow sewn on your underwear then teasingly going under the material, threatening to remove it. "Do you mind?" His question comes out low and breathy, his hands starting to get impatient.
"No..." You're quick to respond, shaking your head from side to side. It's all he needs before he tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.
You're now completely bared in front of him, his lustful eyes roaming over your body, making you feel really small under his gaze. His hand comes really close to your heat, but he only brushes his fingers against your pussy, tricking you into thinking he's going to touch you down there.
"Sweet girl, go sit on the bed for me, m'kay?" he softly demands, laying his palm on your naked hip. "Can you do that?"
You nod your head and he steps aside to let you walk to his bed placed in the corner of his room. He watches you crawl to one end of the mattress, turning around to sit on your butt.
It's not long until he joins you, a little grin gracing his plump pink lips. As he walks up to you, he gets rid of his t-shirt, revealing to you his 'nevermind' tattoo drawn on his rib cage that you'd only ever heard rumours about. Now you know it really exists and you find it absolutely stunning on him, making him look much sexier.
He removes his jeans too, but you're taken aback when he drags his boxers with them as well. His cock springs free and you can't ignore the heat you feel between your legs — it's burning.
You can't help but stare at it with rounded eyes. He's fully erected and just the fact that you're the cause of it, makes you so aroused. He's average, but girthy and curved and really ... agitated.
It twitches before you and you look at it with so much admiration — his cock is so pretty, you didn't think you'd have been so turned on by just seeing one.
But it's Jimin after all. Everything about him is perfect, pretty and hot.
He takes the other end of the bed, leaning his back against the wall. You start moving to come to him, but he stops you. "No, you stay right there, sweetheart."
"Why?" You pout, offended. You want to touch him, that's literally the only thing you want, you think. How can you not when his erection looks so hard and painful, leaking so much pre-cum just inches away from you?
"'Cause I'm gonna watch you," he explains softly, wrapping his palm around his pulsating cock. "And you're gonna watch me, sweet girl."
Oh.
He passes his left hand through his hair, getting the blond strands away from his almond shaped eyes, a watch crowning his wrist. Jimin really loves jewelry and you love it on him.
He gets comfortable, parting his legs a bit wider. You swear you have the most sinful scenery happening in front of your eyes and god, it makes your clit throb so hard.
"Don't be shy, baby," he smiles, eyes glinting, playful or maybe mischievous... "Show me your little pussy," he says and you can't deny him.
So you open your legs a bit hesitant, but you still do it. You lean against the other wall, keeping your knees bent and positioning two fingers beside your drenched cunt.
Jimin grins at the sight, lips parted as his eyes are strained down on your pussy, so much arousal leaking from it. "You're literally soaking wet. Didn't know you loved me that much," he teases and your face heats up again from embarrassment. He was never supposed to find out, but you surely won't complain right now.
"I've just... wanted this for so long," you confess in a quiet voice, slowly rubbing your pussy lips to get in the mood, carefully avoiding your clit.
He squeezes his cock, his eyes closely following your fingers, biting down on his plump bottom lip. "You should've told me, this would've happened much sooner..." He whispers back, making you fantasize about everything that could have happened if only you had the courage.
You run your hand over your tummy going up to your chest, brushing over your hard nipples. You love the small friction it creates, still a bit too shy to do more than roll the sensitive buds under your palm.
Jimin loves it, too. He grips his cock, tugging at it slightly, mimicking the same pace as you; slow and steady.
You whimper when you place a digit on your throbbing clit, beginning to draw tight circles on it. He looks at your pussy intently, his breath quickening each time your legs tremble from the pleasure or when you open your legs wider, desperate to feel more than just your small fingers.
When he stares at you, it's like he wants to get something from you — probably sexual, naively hoping it's more — and his gaze makes you shudder, ready to kneel before him, to give him everything he needs.
Oh, you definitely feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now. He chose you, not some other girl, you. You have to be special.
He fucks his fist as you toy with your bud of nerves, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind, hooded eyes focused on his hand running up and down his hard cock. You moan sweetly and he grunts at the melodic sounds, tightening his grip around his length.
He looks so good and it literally turns you crazy how far he is from you, and yet, you're both masturbating on the same bed. You grope one of your tit, palming it and kneading it in your hand, pussy clenching at the sight of Jimin stroking his wet cock.
"Please, Jimin," you whine desperately, clearly showing how needy and eager you are for him. "Let me touch you, or whatever you want, but please-"
He frowns, shaking his head, cutting you off. "No, you heard me, sweet thing," he begins, voice breathy. "Be a good girl and keep playing with your little pussy, mh?" He asks and his answer doesn't please you, but you have to behave.
You sigh, but you nod your head in agreement nonetheless. It's such a shame, you know for a fact that his cock would slip right away in your hole at how wet it is for him. He would stretch you out so well, you just want to feel him against your walls. Is it too much to ask?
So you do what you're told to, rubbing your clit in quick circles and pulling on your nipples, stimulating them with your palm. You arch your back and moan obscenely, bringing yourself close to the edge.
"Yeah, sweetheart. That's it, fuck," he groans, throwing his head back. His lips are parted, letting out heavy breaths and deep moans as he watches you pleasuring yourself. "Good girl, such a good girl for me," he praises, the words coming out a bit mindlessly, drunk on the way you rub your clit avidly and how your wetness drips down to your ass, skin glistening under the light of his bedroom.
He tugs on his cock, the skin of his penis moving up and down as he fucks his hand. You feel it building up at the pit of your stomach too quickly, and you suddenly stop, not wanting to cum too soon.
As you stop, you grope your boobs again instead, waiting a little before starting back up with your swollen clit. Jimin hisses, halting his movement, too, covering the slit of his tip with his thumb.
"Are you edging yourself, baby?" He chuckles, rubbing his digit over his slit, spreading his pre-cum around his dark pink head.
"Mh-hm," you nod your head, passing your fingers over your pussy lips. "Wanna cum with you," you say in a pouty voice, letting out a quiet whimper as you pinch on your sensitive nipples.
"Aw, what a cute girl," he coos, a smirk forming on his lips. "You will, now just keep going, okay?" He instructs and you execute yourself, resuming the tight circles you were drawing on your clit.
"Okay," you breathe out.
Yes, you want to orgasm at the same time as him, but you also don't want this to end. It's like one of your wet dreams came to life and you want it to last as long as possible, enjoy every second of it.
You could edge yourself for hours, you don't care. You could stop every time you feel it coming, moving your fingers away from your puffy clit, feeling it pulsating so hard like you actually have a heartbeat there.
But every dream must come to an end. You have to eventually wake up from it, even though you wish you would never.
Jimin gets his hair away from his face again, little strands sticking to his forehead. His chest and shoulders are coated in a thin layer of sweat, like you know your back is as well. Damp and hot, that's how your skin feels like.
You dip two fingers in your pussy slightly just to bring some of your arousal up to your clit, making the circles smoother and kind of sticky.
He wets his dried lips with his pink tongue, grunting as he accelerates the pace of his palm around his engorged cock. He drags the loose skin of his dick up and down with every thrust, the muscles of his abs flexing as he controls himself, following attentively your fingers moving in circles over your poor, swollen clit.
"Ah, Jimin," you moan out, knitting your eyebrows together while you work hard on your bud, bringing yourself back over the edge. You're so desperate at this point, you just want to see him ejaculate and make a mess on himself, knowing it's all because of you.
"Come on, sweetheart. You've been so good," he tells you with his low, raspy voice, always honeyed and pleasant to the ear. "Cum with me," he insists and you want it so bad.
"Yes, please, please," you beg, as if he hadn't already given you the permission to, but it comes out instinctively. "Oh, my god-!" You cry out, rubbing fast circles on your clit until your body jerks forward, hips bucking against your hand.
Jimin grits his teeth, sucking air through them as he gives quick, short strokes to his thick cock. Seeing you cumming in front of his eyes riles him up, toes curling as he breathes heavily, plushy lips parted.
"Yes, yes," you sigh, toying with your clit to ride out your high, eyes fixated on Jimin's hand going up and down his length really fast.
"Aah, fuck," he curses under his breath, the knot at the pit of his stomach finally ripping off. His cock jerks in his hand, spurting out long, thick ropes of white cum, landing on his tummy.
His hand slows down, doing long and steady strokes to get everything out. He squeezes his grip and little white beads spill out from his sticky tip, dribbling down over Jimin's hand.
You swallow as you watch the whole scene, his cum slowly dripping down over his abs, falling onto his dark pubic hair. You tell yourself that this isn't enough, that you want — need more. More sex, more of Jimin.
You then totally act on your impulses, getting up on your knees and straddling Jimin's lap. He keeps his mouth agape, eyebrows frowned as he looks at you gripping his cock and aligning it with your entrance.
His hands hover over your hips, clenching into fists when you sink down on him. "Shit," he chokes on his word, watching his cock covered in his cum disappearing into your wet pussy. "Fuck, sweet thing, don't- oh, god."
The overstimulation is painful, but you both love it.
He lifts up his head and your eyes connect, your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders. His pupils are dilated and he looks so good like this; sweaty, breathless and out of his mind.
You immediately start jumping on his cock, honestly not really knowing what you're doing, but it feels incredible, so you continue. Jimin lets you use him, his head rolling back, holding onto your hips.
His fingers have heated up, now warm, only the silver of his rings being cold against your burning skin. You bounce on his dick with so much energy you even surprise yourself, but Jimin's whiny moans encourage you to keep going, wanting to feel his hot cum deep into you badly.
"Jumping on my cock like a little slut..." He groans, guiding your hips on his lap, doing fast grind motions. "You're no sweet girl," he says, one hand running down to the small of your back, sneaking down to your ass. "You're a fucking whore," Jimin rasps out, dipping the tip of his middle finger in your tight hole.
You gasp, but keep riding him like your life depends on it. You just want to cum around him, though, and you'll do it because damn it, you deserve it. Jimin might be right; you must be a slut, but god, does it feel good to be one. Especially when Jimin's your client — hypothetically.
"Only... only for you," you manage to respond, mouth open to let out your lewd moans. He keeps teasing your ass, slightly stretching it out with his thumb now. You're ashamed to admit it, but feeling him filling up your other hole turns you totally hysteric.
"Hm? What did you say, baby?" Jimin wonders, looking at you with hooded eyes, lust dancing in them.
"I'm a slut," you reply in a whiny voice. "But only for you," you state and it makes Jimin chuckles, a lopsided smile plastered on his face. You're so down bad for him, he likes it — feeds off of it.
"That's right," he approves, collecting some of your arousal on his digit. "Only for me, sweetheart. Just for me," he repeats while circling your rim with the pad of his finger covered in your wetness.
You moan in response, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He then smacks your ass, groping the bouncing flesh after, his cool rings brushing against your skin.
You grind on him, your hips going so fast Jimin has difficulty following up, your tits squished against his sweaty chest. His cock feels so good against your walls, your pussy clenching around him several times as you can't keep in your moans.
"I love it," you admit, not knowing how to keep your tongue in your mouth as your brain is all mushy right now. "Love your big cock, Jimin," you say drunkly, your mouth beside his ear.
"Yeah? Like my cock in your tight little pussy?" He asks, pulling you away from his neck, making you face him by having a grip on your hair.
"Yes, love it so much," you cry, sinking your nails into the skin of his back, leaving small crescent forms.
"Then I'mma fucking give it to you, baby."
You moan out loudly when Jimin thrusts up into you, his feet sinked into the mattress as he fucks you hard and deep. Your ass bounces as he snaps his hips against yours, balls slapping your wet pussy. You cry on top of him, his cock sliding up so easily as you're dripping wet, on the verge of your orgasm.
His head hits your sweet spot so deliciously, making you see stars. "Oh, gosh, I'm gonna cum," you hurriedly warn him, boobs also jiggling at the intensity of Jimin's thrusts.
"Fuck, me too, sweetheart," he breathes out shakily, gripping your hips tightly, fingers digging into your damp skin.
You lay your hands on his shoulders, arching your back as his thick cock keeps brushing over your sensitive spot inside of you. You soon cum around him, pussy clenching around him repeatedly and thighs shaking beside his body.
Your walls closing tightly around him is his last stroke and his hips steady. His cock twitches and he releases himself deep into your cunt, shooting long strings of cum against your walls.
You lazily grind on him, driving off both of your highs, limbs trembling.
You look down where your bodies connect and you see his cum has fallen down all over yourselves at how much there was. Your inner thighs are covered as well as his pelvis and balls.
You slowly lift up your hips and his cock slips out of you, slapping down on his stomach. You're both trying to catch your breaths, looking into each other's eyes, perhaps thinking about the right thing to say.
You drop yourself beside him on the bed and he passes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm and soft embrace. He kisses the top of your head and you smile, placing your palm down on his chest.
"Was really good, but we need to clean ourselves." Jimin says, getting out of bed. You get a glimpse of the big tattoo on his back; the cycle of the moon and the two other drawings above his elbows before he turns around. "Coming with me?" He proposes.
You nod your head, biting down on your lip to refrain a smile. "Yeah."
.
.
.
a.n.: hope it was good?!!?!? 🥺 idk came straight from my fantasy so... but anyway just wanna say i start uni in like a week so if call me doesn't come as soon, it's normal (if it comes soon y'all need to scold me because my stupid lazy brain has to study). i hate school, but hey, maybe... enemies to lovers?! that'd be cool
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fayes-fics · 19 days
Text
Vignette
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: An artist meet-cute in the park.
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Warnings: none... this is the fluffiest of fluff
Word Count: 1.2k
Authors Note: Anon request fill (see HERE) about Benedict and an artist having a meet-cute in the park. Unbetaed. I hope you enjoy this, Nonny, and sorry it has taken so many months! <3
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A wooden toy hoop whooshing inches from your knee interrupts your quiet refuge amid the flower gardens of Regents Park, breaking your intense concentration on your drawing and almost dropping your charcoal.
Seconds later, a pretty young girl of maybe eleven years old comes running after the errant object, her plaited hair bouncing, her blush pink dress swishing around her knees as she calls out an apology to you and retrieves the hoop from the nearby bush.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her face a picture of impish inquisition as she wanders back to your bench.
“I am drawing,” you smile benevolently; something about her mischievous spirit reminds you of your nieces.
“What are you drawing?” her grin somehow infectious.
“You see those roses there?” you point with your charcoal to a nearby white alba maxima rose bush, stems almost bowing under the weight of the heavily ruffled peach-tipped petals. “Those are in peak bloom, and I am attempting to capture them, their ephemeral beauty...”
“Are you any good?” 
You chuckle at her youthful bluntness, but just as you are tilting your work towards her, you are interrupted by a man rounding into this same quiet corner. 
“Hyacinth! Please refrain from injuring and bother…” his refined voice begins to chastise but suddenly grinds to a halt mid-sentence as soon as he catches sight of you.
But he is not the only one who has lost the power of speech. 
Something vaults hard in your stomach like you are plunging down an invisible chasm. He is handsome in a way you have never seen before in your twenty years on this earth: tall, with a strong jaw and a dandyish colourful outfit that fits him very well. 
There are a few moments where all you do is stare at each other, lips parted, before he appears to shake himself a fraction and bows his head in polite greeting.
“Where are my manners? I would like to apologise for my little sister almost causing you injury, Miss. The fault is entirely mine; I should not have let her play quite so spiritedly in a public park. I-I hope you are not injured?”
“N-Not at all; the hoop merely brushed my skirt. I am more than fine,” you assure hurriedly. “Mr….?”
“Bridgerton,” he offers, nodding to you in a more formal greeting.
You would know that name anywhere—one of the most esteemed families of the Ton. You instantly know he is not the Viscount, having seen him at society events, so you surmise this must be one of his younger brothers. Before you can offer your name, however, he speaks again.��
“You draw?” 
“Oh.. yes, yes… I-I do,” you stumble, a little taken aback by his question, even as you feel his sister’s gaze volleying between the two of you with a bemused expression.
“I draw too,” he explains, placing a hand over his sternum, the sunlight catching upon a signet ring on his little finger. 
“Oh…” you seem inordinately pleased to share such a hobby with this virtual stranger.
“I also know well that charcoal fingers are an occupational hazard..” he adds cordially as he catches you attempting to wipe the dark smears upon your hands with a rag. “May I see your work? If it is not too impudent of me to ask,” he adds modestly.
“I-I am not very good…” you fret, looking down at the partial image you see on your sketch pad. “Tis merely a pastime I use to escape…”
“Believe me, Miss…?”
“Y/l/n.”
“Believe me, Miss y/l/n, it is very much the case for me too - being that I am one of eight. Including such trouble-makers as this one,” he rolls his eyes affectionately as he signals to Hyacinth, who seems to be rapidly losing interest, distractedly spinning the hoop she holds. “Escaping is almost a full-time hobby for me…” 
You cannot help but giggle at his droll humour, and he seems delighted, his face lighting up as you hide a mild blush behind the back of your hand.
“May I?” his ask is so soft you cannot do anything but acquiesce.
“‘Tis just a small vignette…” you excuse meekly as you hand over your sketchpad, suddenly so nervous to hear his opinion. You have never shared your drawings with anyone before, but something about his affable demeanour makes you bold enough to do so.
He is quiet for some time. It feels like an age, even though it is likely only a matter of seconds, but still long enough that butterflies start to roil in your stomach.
“I did say it is just a hobby…” you titter nervously, looking away.
“It is beautiful…” he exhales quietly, tone filled with admiration as your eyes ping back to him.
Your heart flutters as he extols the virtues of your work, effusively admiring your use of shading to capture shadows and the lines you have used to denote the multitudinous layers of petals, his gracious hand gesturing over the picture as he speaks.
“You flatter me entirely too much, Mr Bridgerton…” you demure, even as you feel yourself blooming under his praise, just like the flower you have painstakingly attempted to capture. A warmth in your chest that seems to radiate out to glow all over.
“I assure you I do not,” he smiles, handing you back your sketch pad.
“Benedict,” Hyacinth whines, stamping her little boot on the grass, “you said we would play…”
“I do not wish to interrupt your family time,” you placate, pleased you have learned his first name.
“Hyacinth, I am sure Eloise said something about sandwiches; you want lunch, do you not?” Benedict responds, raising a pointed brow.
“Well, yes, but…”
“Run along then,” he pulls an exasperated face at her that again has you giggling, making a shooing gesture with his hands.
She sighs but departs with a dramatic flounce.
“Sadly, I must also depart; a family picnic indeed awaits. But if I may be so bold, I would very much like for us to meet again. If you would be amendable? With a chaperone, of course,” he adds hurriedly, keen to be gentlemanly. “I think perhaps we would have much to speak of… around art. And perhaps we could… draw together? Here?”
His proposal, so sweet and straightforward, has you rendered speechless again, heart leaping at the very thought.
“I…I would like that very much,” your honest confession out of your mouth before you can swallow it.
“As would I,” his response instant, his face beaming. “Would you be here, perchance, Thursday afternoon around this same time?”
“I would…” The hitch of excitement in your own voice unmistakable.
“Excellent!” his hazy blue eyes seem to dance in the sunlight as he respectfully tilts his head again. “I am so looking forward to it, Miss y/l/n…” are his parting words before he takes his leave.
“As am I, Mr Bridgerton…” you murmur belatedly, the words shared only with the fragrant roses surrounding you, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze.
Your stare lingers where he stood long after he has left, an excited buzz over your skin at the thought you have met a kindred, artistic spirit. And one so very handsome, too.
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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 month
Text
All-American Girl - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: Bradley's every part the doting dad to your daughter Tatum, but after talking to some of the other wives on base in your mom's group, you're worried he may be hiding his true feelings about fatherhood.
A/N: not me procrastinating and adding to my country music series instead of literally anything else on my list. here's sickeningly sweet bradley as a girl dad fluff based off All-American Girl by Carrie Underwood.
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x wife!reader
content/warnings: sickeningly sweet fluff, Bradley as a girl dad, mentions of sexism.
word count: 1.4k
Now he's wrapped around her finger, she's the center of his whole world And his heart belongs to that sweet little beautiful, wonderful, perfect all-American girl
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Bradley groaned as he jogged up the front steps, his boots heavy against the brick as he walked up the veranda to the front door. An American flag flapped in the breeze, the pole nestled in the stand attached to the pillar on the front of the house, the mid-afternoon sun striking the front yard, basking over the dozens of plants and greenery that were planted there. Bradley kicked his boots off the moment he crossed the entryway, stacking them neatly by the door. He started unzipping his flight suit, his tanned skin slicked with sweat from the training exercises he’d completed earlier that day. He thought about the list of things he wanted to do before he settled in for the night with you - a shower was the first priority at this point. 
Peeling the olive green suit off his skin, he discarded it in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. His white t-shirt and boxers followed suit, along with the thick, military issued socks. He’d plan on washing those tonight after dinner. He padded along the hallway to the bathroom, his balls of his feet sticking to the cherry wood flooring. The cool water flowing from the shower head was a refreshing comfort compared to how warm he was earlier, he contemplated asking for a transfer to somewhere colder after today - the hot Pacific coast sun was brutal, and despite having lived in California for a few years now, Bradley hadn’t adjusted. Not that Virginia Beach had been much cooler - at least, not in the summer, but it wasn’t as consistently warm as it was on the west coast. 
As Bradley stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a plush, lavender coloured towel around his waist. Shaking his caramel coloured curls dry, he approached the vanity, reaching for the pomade - the same brand he’d been using to tame his hair since he was 14. His mom had taught him that trick - using a styling pomade to keep his curls intact, but less wild than they would be left to their own devices. Part of him wondered if he just never changed brands because it was the one she’d suggested for him, one of the last happy memories of his mother that he had clung to for the last 26 years. 
“Bradley? I’m home!” you called out from the bottom of the stairs, having seen Bradley’s vintage Ford Bronco parked in the driveway. 
“Upstairs, honey!” He yelled back, his deep voice echoing throughout the empty house. 
He quickly pulled on a pair of denim shorts and a fresh, white t-shirt, grabbing his favourite floral print button-down on his way down the stairs. He beamed at you, leaning in to give you a loving peck on the cheek. He knelt down in front of the car seat you’d placed on the floor, smiling softly at his infant daughter as she stretched and yawned, waking up from the nap she’d taken on the car ride home. 
“Good mornin’ sunshine! How’s my girl?”
Bradley held his index finger out to baby Tatum, smiling as she gripped it tightly in her hand. He began unbuckling her harness with his free hand as he spoke to her.
“Did you have a fun day with Mama? What did you do, princess? You and your mama go shopping for some new clothes, baby girl?” 
Tatum let out a happy sigh as Bradley scooped her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest. He leaned his head down to kiss her forehead, his hand moving up and down her back in soft, slow, gentle strokes as he cuddled his baby. He took a seat on the couch, leaning back slightly so Tatum could recline on his chest. He smiled up at you, waiting patiently for you to start showing off the different outfits you’d purchased for Tatum. He’d always sworn that he’d never be the type of father who’d dismiss things he wasn’t interested in - whether it was baby clothes, or ballet, baby and me classes or going for walks around the neighborhood with her - he’d always try his best to be into it. It’s how his mom described his father - always interested in anything to do with Bradley when he was little. 
You delicately sifted through the array of dresses and outfits, each garment infused with your hopes and dreams for little Tatum. With tender affection, you recounted where and when you had acquired each piece, your voice tinged with a blend of excitement and maternal pride. Tatum slumbered peacefully, her soft breaths creating a gentle rhythm against Bradley's shoulder, while you poured your heart into sharing your plans for her future attire.
As the last dress found its place, you sank onto the couch beside Bradley, seeking solace in his comforting presence. Nestling into his side, you felt the warmth of his embrace envelop you, his arm offering both physical and emotional support.
“Are you happy?” you murmured softly, a trace of uncertainty lacing your words as you chewed anxiously at your bottom lip. 
A flicker of confusion danced across Bradley's features before he met your gaze with unwavering reassurance.
“Of course I’m happy, why would you ask that?”
“It’s silly,” you sighed, a moment of vulnerability surfacing before you continued, meeting Bradley’s brown-eyed gaze as you spoke, “It’s just that…you know how I took Tatum to that mommy and me group?”
"Mhmm, every Wednesday," Bradley affirmed, his attention fully focused on you.
“Right! That one. Well…one of the moms was saying how she was so thankful her baby was a boy, because her husband wanted a boy really badly and she didn’t want him to be upset if he didn’t get what he wanted…”
Bradley's brow furrowed with concern as he gently kissed Tatum's forehead, a protective gesture that spoke volumes.
“Babe, he sounds like a dick,” Bradley interjected, shaking his head as he gently kissed Tatum’s forehead again. 
“I’m not finished yet!” You said as you held your hand up. “So anyways, she said that, and a lot of the other moms started talking and saying how their husbands were disappointed when they had girls or relieved when they had sons, and then they said how lucky I was that you were happy with a girl. The one of them said her husband pretended to be, but then he was totally different and genuinely happy when they had a boy next.” 
“And you think I’m doing that?” Bradley queried as he tilted his head to the side, looking at you. 
“Well, no, but…would you tell me if you’d wanted a son instead?”
The corner of Bradley's mouth lifted in a soft smile, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "No," he replied emphatically, shaking his head. “Because I’ve never wanted a son instead of Tatum. Not once.”
“You haven’t?” You said as relief washed over you, Bradley's words washing away any lingering doubts.
“Not for a second. I’ve wanted Tatum from the minute you told me you were pregnant - I never really gave a shit whether she was a boy or a girl. She’s mine and that’s all I care about. It just happened to turn out that she’s the second Bradshaw girl around here to steal my heart, after her mama.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm, you know that song, the one where she says about how her daddy was praying for a boy, but got a girl instead and she was wrapped around his finger? Then she grows up and  asks her husband one day what he wants, and he says he just wants a sweet, beautiful All-American girl like his wife?”
“Yeah, I know it,” You laugh softly as Bradley begins to hum the tune of the song, singing it softly as he looks down at Tatum.
“That’s exactly how I felt when you told me you were having a girl. I just wanted a beautiful little baby who looked just like you, and that’s exactly what I got. Now I have two beautiful girls who love me more than anything, and I would move mountains for the pair of you. We could have twelve girls for all I care - I’d love every single one of them just as much as I love you.”
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smileysuh · 8 months
Text
the alpha's right hand
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🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. Mingyu had thought he’d lost you - if even for a moment - and he’s not willing to lose you ever again. He doesn’t want you running into the woods anymore when you’re having emotions, he wants you running to him, and he kisses you as if to say ‘please, never leave.’ He had always thought Seungcheol would be his alpha, but you’d shown up and flipped his world upside down. Mingyu doesn’t care about appeasing his friend anymore- all he cares about is appeasing you- pleasuring you, giving you everything you could ever possibly want, everything you could ever need.
tw/cw. a/b/o au & power structures, mentions of a bad pack past, one mention of child death, blood/childbirth, exhibitionism/outside sex, clothed dry humping, fingering, mutual masturbation, hand job, big dick!Mingyu, pussy stretching, unprotected sex, pullout method, groping, overstimulation, praise, dirty talk, needy!Mingyu, hair pulling, orgasm control, small noncon/impreg thoughts, etc… I pet names: (hers) alpha. (his) Big guy, puppy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.4k
🍭 aus. a/b/o au, werewolf au, alpha!reader, beta!Mingyu, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this fic is in the Blood Moon universe, if I end up writing another fic for this au, it will get a masterlist, but until then read cheol here
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Mingyu loves thunder storms. There’s something almost therapeutic about the percussion of the sky, the flashes of light and the smell of rain in the air. It’s been a dry summer, and the water is a much-needed reprieve. 
The beta wolf sits on his sheltered wrap-around cabin porch, a mug of tea in his hand while he watches the sky. Some of his packmates have called him crazy, but Mingyu doesn’t care. They can bundle up inside, but a summer storm is just what he needs to clear his head.
Whats the point of being a wild thing if you don’t appreciate the weather? Mingyu knows he shouldn’t question alphas, but Soonyoung and Jihoon are particularly prissy about rain. Seungcheol, however, doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s out chopping wood, a white t-shirt sticking tight to his muscles while he swings the ax down on a log.
Mingyu had asked if he needed any help, but Seungcheol had refused. The beta thinks his alpha must be bulking up in preparation for his child on the way, and Mingyu doesn’t blame him.
No one would be crazy enough to challenge Seungcheol as head alpha, but in the dark corners of Mingyu’s mind, he supposes there’s always a chance. And with a new baby, Seungcheol is at least partially exposed. Mingyu admires his alpha for taking extra precautions like this.
Seungcheol stops cutting wood, straightening and looking out toward the trees. Mingyu is on high alert immediately, putting his tea down and standing, sniffing at the wind. 
The cedar and newly moist dry earth are predominantly the scents that overwhelm him, but there’s something else too,something underneath the natural pleasantries-
Then Mingyu hears the snapping of twigs, as if something large is coming through the brush a few hundred feet away. Mingyu knows immediately that it’s not a bear, no bears come through their property, they’d be stupid to try- no, the scent is a much more familiar one; wet wolf. But as far as Mingyu knows, the whole pack is inside their cabins-
Seungcheol squares his shoulders as he stairs out at the trees, and Mingyu bounds down the steps to join his alpha, staying a few feet back. The ax in Seungcheol’s hand glints in the grey light. 
“Cheol?” Mingyu asks, looking for guidance. 
“Shh,” the alpha tuts, grip tightening on the wooden ax handle. 
Something large stumbles through the tree line. A huge, amber-coloured wolf. You’re much too big to be a regular canine, and Mingyu knows immediately that the animal in front of them is no animal at all, you’re a person- and his suspicion is confirmed when you shiver, slowly beginning the transformation back into your regular form.
Watching a werewolf shift is always a unique experience, and Mingyu’s breath catches during the three seconds it takes for the wolf to become a girl. You crumble against the grass, naked and breathing heavily.
Mingyu can’t help himself, he immediately tugs off his flannel, running toward you to cover your modesty. “Oh my god-” he whispers. “Are you okay?!”
You nod weakly, letting out a soft groan, and his heart races when you curl up against his thigh, fingers tugging at the denim of his jeans.
“Mingyu, step back from her,” Seungcheol commands, and for the first time in a long time, Mingyu questions his alpha’s judgment.
“But-”
“Just do it,” the alpha growls, eyes flashing red as he bares his teeth at Mingyu. 
Mingyu lets out a breath, but he does as he’s told, retreating from you on the ground to go join Seungcheol.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Seungcheol says to you. “Where’s your pack?”
“I don’t have a pack,” you respond, fingers grabbing at the grass as you lift your head to look at them. 
“I find that hard to believe,” Seungcheol muses. “Alpha females are rare, they always have a pack.”
“Not me,” you shake your head and Mingyu is doing his best to get this whole situation straight. You? A female alpha? There aren’t many of those- not pure blood ones anyways- usually female alphas become alpha when they mate with a male alpha, but you- “I ran away.”
“You ran away?” Mingyu asks in shock.
The life of a loner wolf can be deadly, let alone for a female-
“They tried-” you sit up, wrapping the flannel around your body, “They tried to marry me off to an alpha twice my age. I refused. And then I ran.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Seungcheol says after a brief pause. “But I still don’t see how you ended up here.”
“I heard you’re a pack with three alphas- I thought… I thought if anyone would take me in it would be you.” There’s a vulnerability in your eyes, and a sincerity in the shaking of your voice. 
Mingyu can see that you’re desperate, and it feels as if maybe their pack truly is your only hope- the rain beats down harder, and Seungcheol has a staring match with you while you sit in the mud.
“We wouldn’t know what to do with a female alpha,” he says finally.
“You don’t have to do anything,” you insist. “Just give me a place to stay, a home, a family- and I promise I won’t challenge you. I’ll be loyal, I’ll back you up, I promise. I never wanted to be a pack leader- I never wanted the responsibility, please- I have nowhere else to go- everyone else would marry me off to another alpha-”
“Seungcheol?” a pretty female voice calls through the storm, and both wolves snap their heads towards the sound. Seungcheol’s glowing new bride is standing on the deck of her cabin, one hand wrapped protectively around her large baby bump.
“Go back inside!” Seungcheol shouts, and his wife does so without a second thought. She’s very submissive in this last trimester, and she trusts Seungcheol to make decisions for her best interest above all things.
“You have females here,” you say quietly.
“Not female alphas,” Seungcheol states.
“Still- maybe you need a midwife- birthing alphas can be a rough situation-”
Seungcheol adjusts his grip on the ax. “Are you familiar with midwifery?” 
“Oh yes,” you nod. “I had four younger brothers, I was there during all their births.”
“If you have four younger brothers, why aren’t they with you?”
“I had four younger brothers,” you repeat. Even from a few feet away, Mingyu can see your eyes glistening with emotion, and it’s not the rain. “My eldest brother- he- well, he didn’t want to be challenged.”
“You’re from the Arcadia Pack,” Seungcheol says suddenly, and things click in Mingyu’s head a moment after the words slip from his alpha’s mouth.
The Arcadia pack is a nomadic pack, very off-grid, known for their archaic practices- Mingyu had even heard a horror story about one alpha eating his own male offspring, although, Mingyu had always thought that was just a spin on the Greek/Roman myths, made to scare betas about the dangers of being an alpha. 
You nod, looking down at the ground.
A muscle in Seungcheol’s jaw feathers. “You can stay,” he says gruffly. “Mingyu,” the beta steps forward, “we don’t have any extra cabins, and I don’t trust anyone other than you to take care of her. You can do this for me, right?”
“Of course,” Mingyu nods, already running through his mind what possible things he could cook to warm you up. 
Seungcheol begins to head back to his own home, but then he stops, looking back. “If Wonwoo has a problem with sharing his cabin, tell him to move in with Hansol and Seungkwan until I sort out sleeping arrangements. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of days.”
“Got it,” Mingyu nods enthusiastically, watching his alpha depart.
As soon as Seungcheol’s cabin door is closed, Mingyu’s body kicks into high gear. He wants to rush to you, but at the same time, he wants to warm you up, so he opts for running to his deck, grabbing his discarded tea before jogging back to you.
“Here,” he says, kneeling down to hand the mug to you. “It’s hot, drink it, and I’ll help you inside.”
You accept the cup with shaky fingers.
Mingyu gives you a moment to take a sip, then he reaches for you, grabbing your forearm and pulling you to your feet-
The flannel covering your naked body slips off your shoulder, and Mingyu catches a slight glimpse of your breasts before you’re tugging the fabric back around yourself. The beta can feel his skin heating, and he looks away, swallowing thickly. “Come on,” he says again, “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
“Sweet beta,” you laugh, leaning on him. “Don’t you know us alphas don’t get sick so easily?”
It’s so odd for him to be around a female alpha. He’s used to taking care of women- his beta little sisters who he’d grown up with, his alpha’s beta wife- he doesn’t know to handle you, not really, and he has no clue what to say as he helps you toward the cabin.
The door opens before you even get to the steps, and Mingyu’s cabin mate, Wonwoo, is leaning in the door frame. 
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he states.
“Well, you heard what Cheol said,” Mingyu insists, helping you up the stairs. “If you don’t like it, you can move in with Hansol and Seungkwan.” 
“Where’s she even going to sleep?” Wonwoo asks, moving to the side so you and Mingyu can pass.
“My room,” Mingyu states. “She can have my room.”
“You? On the couch?” Wonwoo scoffs. “Good luck with that.”
“What’s your problem?” you say finally, looking Wonwoo up and down. 
He meets your gaze. “In my opinion, we already have two too many alphas in this pack.”
“Well It’s not up to you,” you insist.
“You’re right about that, but it doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it,” Wonwoo growls darkly, narrowing his eyes. 
“Wonwoo, please-” Mingyu groans, reaching out to grab his friend’s forearm. “Can you go grab her some clothes from my room, I have to start making some food for her, she’s cold-”
“She’s fine,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.
“Wonwoo, please,” Mingyu repeats, and the other wolf finally lumbers off. “Look,” he says, turning to you again, “the bathroom is through that door right there. The water isn’t that hot, but it will be enough to warm you up while I get some ramen going-”
“I’m used to cold water,” you cut him off, handing your mug of tea to him. “I’m sure even warm would be better than I’ve had recently.”
Mingyu blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to say as you walk away from him, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you. The sound of water thrums to life a moment later and Mingyu finally shakes himself out of his daze. 
Wonwoo returns holding a pair of sweats and a hoodie, he places them on the floor outside the bathroom door before joining Mingyu in the kitchen.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Wonwoo says quietly.
“She needs our help.”
“It shouldn’t be us,” Wonwoo points out. “It should be Jihoon or Soonyoung.”
“You sound like you’re trying to marry her off to one of them-” Mingyu’s nose scrunches with distaste. “Besides, if we did that, and they did get together, that would be a double alpha pairing and it would be very dangerous for Seungcheol.”
“So dangerous, in fact, Seungcheol might kick them out, or we might be forced to put them down. Two birds, one stone.”
Mingyu freezes, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He slowly turns to his best friend. “Wonwoo… I think you should leave.”
“You want me to leave?” Wonwoo asks in shock.
“I don’t think it’s good for you to be here right now.” Mingyu can’t believe he’s saying any of this- Wonwoo is his best friend- but… Wonwoo’s never acted this way before. Swallowing thickly, Mingyu squares his chest, straightening to his full height while he looks down at his friend. “Yeah, I think you should go to Hansol and Seungkwan’s cabin until we get this housing arrangement sorted out.”
“Seriously?” Wonwoo scoffs, but Mingyu doesn’t back down, doesn’t adjust his stance an inch. He stays steady, and after a few seconds, Wonwoo crumbles. “Fine. have it your way. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when this whole thing ends badly.”
Wonwoo doesn’t even bother packing a bag, he simply grabs his jacket off the couch and heads to the door, slamming it loudly behind him. 
Mingyu finally lets out a breath, deflating, and then, he goes back to getting water boiled for ramen.
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You listen in on the argument in the kitchen. These beta wolves don’t seem to be aware of how good a female alpha’s senses can be. You’re even more sensitive than males, it’s a natural adaptation to help mothers be better suited to take care of their young, and here you are, using it to eavesdrop on two stupid betas.
Well, the big one doesn’t seem so stupid. He seems kind of nice actually. But his friend? A dickhead.
You smile when you hear the front door slam, and you listen to the wolf lumber down the stairs, then the crunch of gravel as he walks away. 
This will be a much easier living arrangement for you. Having one beta male around and in your space is going to be odd, but to have two would have been nearly too much for you. Their scent is everywhere, and when you get out of the shower, you find yourself staring down two towels. 
You opt for the one that smells like the bigger wolf, and use it to dry off, trying to get used to his scent. 
You’d heard one of them set clothes down outside the bathroom door, and you unlock it, opening it a sliver to peer out. You can hear the big wolf whistling in the kitchen while he cooks, and you quickly snatch the clothing into the bathroom, locking the door again.
Your pack has stayed in a few structures before, but many of them were hand built cabins deep in the wilderness. Running water - especially hot running water - is a luxury you’re not used to. When you wipe the steam off the mirror, assessing yourself through the reflective glass, you’re almost shocked to see how good you look.
You’d washed the dirt off your body- it’s been so long since you looked in a proper mirror, and you realize you even look pretty. 
You shrug the hoodie and sweatpants on, marveling at how large they are on your much smaller form. They smell like the large wolf, everything does. 
Standing in the bathroom, you do your best to psych yourself up. You’re an alpha for goodness sake- you don’t need to be afraid. Especially not when the wolf in the other room seems to be a complete softy- you can’t believe he’d given you tea and even his flannel- yeah, he seems nice, but you’ve not met many nice men in your life.
You exit the bathroom, tiptoeing to the kitchen. The wolf must be very preoccupied with his cooking because he doesn’t even look up. He’s focused on the ginger he’s grating, and the smell of the root mixes with the minced garlic already frying in a pot. It’s the first scent that’s not wolfish, and it makes your mouth begin to water as you watch.
“Hi,” you say finally.
The six-foot-two man jumps in shock.
He might just be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, he even clutches his chest.
“Hi,” he sighs.
“I’m y/n.”
He studies you. “Mingyu,” and then, he reaches out a hand.
You look down at his hand, and after a moment, you give it a small shake. 
“Uh…” he licks his lips, “welcome to the pack I guess.”
“Thank you,” you nod, moving closer to look down at the garlic he’s cooking. You find there’s also green onions, and he adds the ginger while you watch. “Are you the pack chef?”
“Something like that,” Mingyu laughs. “I’m Seungcheol’s right-hand man. I do anything he needs, including cooking for new pack members it seems.”
“He didn’t tell you to do this,” you note.
“Okay, maybe I wanted to do this. Seungcheol has too much on his plate, he would have reminded me to cook for you if it had crossed his mind.”
You nod. “His mate is very pregnant. Must be hard for him.” 
“Do you really have midwife skills?” Mingyu asks.
You nod again. “I live deep in the forest, it’s important for all the women to be part of the birthing process, including alphas.”
“Luckily we have a hospital half an hour away.”
“You can’t always make it to a hospital,” you point out. “Alpha deliveries can be sudden, and dangerous. If I was making suggestions to your alpha, I’d tell him to ask any and all female pack relatives to come and stay for a little while. If he has a mother, or sisters, or aunts, or cousins-”
“You really think that’s necessary?” Mingyu blinks at you, stirring the pot of golden aromatics while adding boiling water.
“I do,” you admit. “I’ve heard you’re an all male pack, except for the alpha’s mate, and I’d hoped there would be a few more women around-”
“A few of us have had girlfriends in the past, but nothing that stuck. It can be hard for them to deal with a pack that has three alphas,” Mingyu tells you, frowning.
“Four,” you correct. “It might be easier now that I’m here. I’ve always had good relationships with female pack members. I wouldn’t have been able to escape my last pack without them.”
“If you could help us find some female wolves to join, I’m sure all the guys here would be really grateful.”
“Including that buddy of yours?” you almost laugh. “What is it he said? He wants me to get with another alpha so you can take me out and kill two birds with one stone?”
“He didn’t-” Mingyu stammers.
“Tell me, of your two other alphas, which one do you have more issues with?” you ask, looking Mingyu up and down.
The large wolf sighs. “Soonyoung has been causing trouble lately.”
“Yeah? How’s that?” 
“He was sort of hitting on Seungcheol’s mate for a while- looking at her a lot and stuff-” Mingyu adds the ramen to the pot, and you note how uncomfortable this is making him. He must not like confrontation.
Who would have thought, an alpha’s right-hand muscle man who doesn’t like fights.
“Are they going to have problems with me being here?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.
“I mean- if anything, uh…” Mingyu swallows thickly, and you watch his adam’s apple bob with effort, “they might hit on you.”
“But as you said to that other guy earlier, if I don’t want to be a danger to Seungcheol, it would be wise for me to stay away from them.” You look down at the boiling ramen. “That was a smart observation from you.”
“Thanks?” He rubs the back of his neck. 
“After dinner, I’ll need to sleep,” you tell him. “I ran all day to get here. But I can’t rest in your friend’s room.”
“You can have my room,” Mingyu is quick to assure you. “It’s cleaner than his anyways.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” The wolf opens a cabinet, pulling out a bowl. He spoons it full of ramen and hands it to you.
“Aren’t you eating?” you ask.
“No,” he shakes his head, “this is for you. Something tells me you’ll want to eat all of it, and I had dinner an hour ago.”
He’s right. Ten minutes later you’ve eaten all the ramen. 
Your body is warm, for the first time in what feels like ages. When you head into Mingyu’s bedroom, and slowly lay down on his soft bed, the mattress makes you groan. You’ve been sleeping on hides on the forest floor for months now- 
Before you know it, you’re drifting off to sleep.
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You wake up to sunlight streaming through the window, and for the first time in a long time, you simply allow yourself to bask in it. You curl up against Mingyu’s pillow, breathing in his scent. The big beta obviously wears cologne, something spicy, but you can smell cedar and notes of pine too. He’s a woodsy guy, and it’s familiar to you.
Sitting up, you stretch your arms above your head, groaning softly at the feeling in your muscles. This is what freedom is, and you can’t believe you’ve finally found it.
Making your way to Mingyu’s closet, you find a red and black flannel, and you slip it on, enjoying the softness of it. Then, you grab a pair of boxers. 
When you’d left your pack, you hadn’t been able to take anything, and in wolf form, not even clothes made the journey here with you. All you have right now is mens underwear, and they’re large around your hips, but they’ll do better than walking around with nothing.
The wood floorboards creek as you tiptoe to the door, opening it to peer into the room beyond. 
You can hear Mingyu’s soft snores coming from his friend’s room. When you make your way to the front door, it squeaks on its hinges, and the soft sleeping sounds come to halt. Then, there are footfalls, and Mingyu peers out of his friend’s room, blinking at you as he rubs his eyes with one hand.
“You’re awake,” he says.
“Early riser,” you nod, taking in his bare chest and the pair of sweatpants that are hanging dangerously low on his hips. “I was going to go look around.”
“Okay,” Mingyu sighs, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a groan. “Give me a second and I’ll come with you.”
“You can go back to sleep,” you suggest.
“Nah, you shouldn’t be walking around alone.”
“I’m not in any danger.” You know how to deal with male alphas if you come across either of the two that are bound to be lurking around outside.
“I’m not worried about you,” Mingyu says, disappearing into his friend’s room. “Worried about the other guys.”
You crack a smile. “Yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because flannels look good on you,” Mingyu returns, torso covered in a black vneck, “and I doubt many of the pack know there’s a new alpha yet. Not sure how they’ll react.”
You suppose he has a point, and you stay quiet as he approaches you, slipping his feet into a pair of shoes by the door. Then he looks down. “Give me a sec, I’m pretty sure Cheol’s mate has a similar size foot to you, I’ll grab you some flip flops.”
“I can go barefoot,” you insist.
“You are a wild thing, aren’t you?” Mingyu chuckles, running a hand through his messy hair. “Just wait here, please.” 
He shifts past you, exiting the cabin. Instead of staying inside, you follow, stopping on the deck while he jogs to the small house a hundred feet away. You watch him as he kneels, shifting through some shoes before finding a pair, and then he walks back to you, squinting in the morning sun. 
“Here,” he says, holding them out, “give these a try.” 
You slip the flip-flops on, nodding. “They work.”
“Good,” Mingyu yawns. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
You follow him down the steps, enjoying his lumbering walk. He’s so big- and his strides are longer than yours, but he’s moving slowly, which makes it easy for you to keep up. 
“So this is our pack compound,” he explains, still sounding a bit groggy. “Seungcheol and his mate live in that cabin, and then you’ve met me and Wonwoo-” so his bitchy friend does have a name. “There are seven cabins in total and I’ll walk you through them, we can see who’s awake.”
“Your pack doesn’t wake up at dawn?” 
“Nah, we’ve got a lot of guys who sleep in,” Mingyu says, and from the way he’s still yawning, you can tell he’s not used to being up this early. 
You’ve always liked mornings. Your pack is the type to be up and bustling about, but you think you could get used to the quiet of this place. Birds are singing in the trees, and the dew on the grass from last night’s rain is tickling past your feet as you walk through the area.
“This cabin belongs to Hansol and Seungkwan,” Mingyu explains, pointing at the next lodging you walk past. “They’re good guys, Hansol especially. When we joined all three packs, Hansol and Wonwoo were with me and Cheol.”
“So you’re very close then,” you nod, taking in the cabin with its dark windows. It’s clear the inhabitants are still asleep.
“Yeah, Hansol’s a friend,” Mingyu nods. “He’ll like you.”
“You think so?”
“Hansol gets along with everyone,” Mingyu says factually. 
The next cabin is a short distance away, but unlike the last one, this one has signs of life. There’s even a man sitting on the front steps, and he stands as you approach. 
He’s small in stature, but with the downwind sending his scent your way, you can tell immediately that he must be one of the other two alphas. He certainly holds himself like a man in charge, and you meet his gaze straight on. 
“Jihoon,” Mingyu greets, coming to a stop a few feet in front of the stairs leading to the alpha. 
“What’s going on?” Jihoon asks, scanning your form.
“We got a new member of the pack yesterday,” Mingyu explains. “This is y/n.”
The man scrunches his nose, eyes narrowing. “She’s an alpha.”
“From the Arcadia pack,” Mingyu nods, and a flash of recognition flutters over Jihoon’s features.
“Seungcheol is okay with this?” Jihoon asks.
“I wouldn’t be showing her around if he wasn’t,” Mingyu says, and there’s a firmness in his voice. “She’s going to help with midwife stuff.”
“Oh,” Jihoon’s head cocks to the side slightly. “That’s good to hear.”
“Is Seokmin awake?” Mingyu questions, and you both look past the alpha to see if his roommate is up.
“He’s never awake this early,” Jihoon scoffs.
“Well,” Mingyu turns to you, “guess you’ll meet him later.”
“Are you giving her a full tour?” Jihoon asks, eyes still lingering on your form.
“Uh huh,” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, yawning loudly. 
“Why isn’t Seungcheol doing it?”
Mingyu lets out a small laugh. “We both know Seungcheol has bigger things on his plate.”
“Bigger than introducing a new alpha female to the pack?” Jihoon cracks a smile. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You don’t have to believe it,” Mingyu sighs. 
It’s interesting how he’s interacting with the alpha in front of him. You’d wondered what the dynamic might be like- but it appears that Mingyu truly only has loyalty to Seungcheol. As the head alpha, this is the way it should be.
Jihoon doesn’t say anything else, and Mingyu’s gentle touch on the small of your back prompts you to continue your tour.
“He’s cranky in the morning,” Mingyu tells you under his breath.
“And he can probably hear you,” you note, looking over your shoulder at the scowling alpha.
“My bad,” Mingyu says, but from the smile on his face, you know he doesn’t really care. 
The cabins are all spaced nicely, giving earshot privacy but still mostly visible to each other as you continue down the dirt path that connects them. 
The next cabin has not one, but two wolves sitting on its front porch, and they both stand like Jihoon had, looking at you curiously.
“What did you bring for us today, Gyu?” one of them asks while the other practically eye fucks you over his bowl of cereal.
“This is y/n, she’s joining the pack,” Mingyu explains. 
“Really?” The prettier of the two bounds down the stairs, grinning. “Since when?”
“Last night.”
“I’m Jeonghan,” the wolf holds out a hand to you. “It’s lovely to finally meet an alpha female, especially one as gorgeous as you.”
The man still standing on the stairs lets out a loud scoff, and then he’s setting down his cereal to approach. “Don’t pay attention to him,” he says, “Jeonghan’s a flirt.”
“As if you’re any better, Joshua,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes.
“I am better,” Joshua grins, holding out his own hand to you. “In every way.”
You don’t enjoy the way he looks you up and down again, eyes taking their time to assess your outfit. You’re very aware of the fact you’re not wearing a bra, and when Joshua releases your hand, you’re quick to cross your arms over your chest.
“Where’s she staying?” Jeonghan asks, addressing Mingyu.
“With me for now, but Cheol’s gonna work out a sleeping arrangement.” Mingyu’s hand finds the small of your back, his touch as light as a feather. “We should keep going with the tour.”
“Need company?” Joshua questions.
“We’re good,” you say firmly. 
With a nod goodbye, Mingyu and you head off again. 
“Are they all like this?” you ask.
“What do you mean?”
You let out a small laugh. “Horrible with women?” 
“It’s a pack trait,” Mingyu jokes.
“You’re not so bad,” you tell him, and when you sneak a glance at the beta, you notice his skin is flushed.
He’s so cute you want to just eat him up.
“I uh…” Mingyu coughs, “that’s debatable.”
“I’m telling you you’re not bad with women, and I’m an alpha, which means you have to listen to me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mingyu chuckles.
“Not ma’am,” you correct him. “Yes, alpha.” 
“Yes, alpha,” he says, not missing a beat. 
“That wasn’t so hard, was it, big guy?”
He lets out a small “shit” under his breath, and you realize you enjoy toying with him. 
“So anyways,” he clears his throat, “this next cabin is Minghao and Jun, but they’re asleep-”
“Over half the compound is asleep,” you note. “Who’s protecting your boundaries?”
“No one?” Mingyu looks around. “I’m not sure what you’re used to from your last pack, but closer to the city, boundaries rarely get encroached on.”
“Oh, so I pulled a big no-no by just showing up, huh?”
“It was unusual, that’s for sure,” Mingyu smiles. 
“My bad.”
The beta at your side only grins as you walk past another dark cabin. You don’t mind not talking, as it gives you a chance to listen to the sounds of the compound. More birds are singing now, and trees rustle with small wildlife. You watch two squirrels chasing each other, and the familiar sight makes you smile.
Yeah, despite the gang of clueless men, you could definitely get used to this place.
“So this last cabin belongs to Soonyoung and Dino-” Mingyu begins to say, and as the words leave his mouth, the lodging’s front door is thrown open.
A white-haired alpha struts out, his gaze fixed on you. 
You stop in your tracks assessing his form for signs of aggression-
While he holds his head high, and walks like an alpha, the man in front of you is at least attempting open body language. He smiles, flashing his canines. “I knew I smelt something sweet,” he says loudly, thudding down the front steps and approaching.
So this must be the Soonyoung that Mingyu had mentioned. The alpha causing trouble.
He definitely looks like a bit of a flirt, and his eyes scan you up and down as the other wolves had. “Let me guess,” Soonyoung says, “Arcadia pack.”
“How did you-”
“Sweetheart, there aren’t many alpha females around these parts. It’s not rocket science.” Soonyoung comes to a stop in front of you. “The real question is, why are you here?”
“She left her old pack,” Mingyu answers for you. “She’s with us now.”
“Trouble in wilderness paradise, huh?” Soonyoung’s grin widens. “Their loss, our gain.”
“What are you doing awake this early?” Mingyu asks, and you see him stiffening beside you.
“I told you, I smelt something sweet.” The alpha is yet to take his eyes off of you, and you meet his gaze straight on, like a challenge. 
“And I smell dog, but I’m guessing that’s you,” you say calmly.
Soonyoung lets out a bark of a laugh. “Damn, baby, you’ve got a mouth on you.”
“Enough of the babys and sweethearts,” you tell him. “My name is y/n.”
“Cute name,” Soonyoung says, but the compliment does nothing for you.
“Mingyu, I think my tour is done,” you sigh, looking to the beta at your side. 
“What? But you just started.” Soonyoung whines, and the tone of his voice grinds your nerves. 
“I’ve seen enough,” you say smoothly. 
“Princess, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Soonyoung assures you. 
A growl bubbles up in your throat, and you turn your icy gaze back to the alpha. “Nothing impressive, that’s for sure. And I doubt you have anything to show me that could change my mind.”
Soonyoung only smiles wider. “I like your fire.”
“Good for you.” You reach out, grabbing Mingyu’s forearm. “We’re leaving.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” the alpha clicks his tongue. “You’re part of the pack now, it’s time to make friends.”
“Something tells me you’re not looking for any more friends,” you say coldly. “If you’re really that bored, go bug your housemate.”
“Dino’s not anywhere near as pretty as you, and he doesn’t talk back, so it’s not as fun.”
“I’m not here to entertain you.” You’re getting tired of this alpha already.
“Shame,” Soonyoung tilts his head to the side. “Something tells me you’ll be very entertaining.”
“She said we’re leaving,” Mingyu states, and it’s as stern as you’ve heard him be with anyone, let alone an alpha. 
“Well,” Soonyoung sighs, “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
You feel the need to give him a snarky response, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, so instead, you turn on your heel, heading back the way you came with Mingyu scrambling to follow.
You can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you, and it sets your teeth on edge. If there’s one thing you hate in this world, it’s presumptuous alphas.
“Sorry about him,” Mingyu apologizes quietly.
“It’s not your fault,” you assure Mingyu, knowing that he has no say over Soonyoung’s behaviour.
“I want to make it up to you,” the beta insists.
“Yeah?” you laugh. “And how are you going to do that?”
“You need clothes,” Mingyu says. “Let me take you to the city, and we can get you something to wear.”
“You know what?” you take a deep breath. “I think that might be the best idea you’ve had all day.”
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Mingyu tries his best not to stare at you. He keeps his gaze fixed on the road the entire drive to town, even as you stick your head out the window and let out a soft sigh as you enjoy the air moving over your skin. He fights the need to ask you questions about yourself, about the life you had in the Arcadia pack, but there’s so much he wants to know.
He tries to be nonchalant as you head into an underwear store, but he can feel his ears burning as he lumbers through the thongs and bras. “I should really wait outside,” he says meekly, but you ignore him, grabbing his hand to tug him along as you pick out panties.
“I need your opinion,” you tell him, holding up two thongs, “Silk or lace?”
Mingyu lets out a deep sigh, eyes shifting to the simple seamless set. They’re more practical for the life the pack lives, and less devastating if they get tort to shreds during an impromptu wolf transformation.
“Really?” you ask, reading his gaze. You hold the red thong up, assessing it. “You really are a simple kind of guy, aren’t you?”
“Are you calling me stupid?”
“No,” you grin. “I just don’t know what I expected from a guy who wears flannel and jeans.”
“You should get what you want,” Mingyu says softly. “You’re the alpha, I’m just a beta. How should I know what you want?”
“Maybe I’ll have to try them all on,” you suggest. 
He feels his throat constrict, and he swallows thickly, giving a quick nod. “Yeah, okay.”
You fill a whole basket with undergarments, and Mingyu feels his heart thundering louder in his chest as you make your way to the change room.
“Oh,” the worker there says when you approach, looking Mingyu up and down, “Men aren’t allowed in the changeroom.”
“How am I supposed to know what he likes if he can’t come in?” you counter.
“I’m sorry ma’am-” the poor worker looks as uncomfortable as Mingyu feels.
“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ll just wait out here. In fact, I have an errand to run. You can try all this stuff on and I’ll be back in ten or fifteen.”
He hates the way you frown at the suggestion, but you give in with a sigh. 
Mingyu watches you disappear into the changeroom, and the moment you’re gone, he all but bolts from the store. 
Once outside, he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He has to keep his hormones in check- but there’s a need growing in the pit of his stomach, and he’s not sure he can ignore it, especially not if you give him a whole modeling show of underwear-
God, he’s in big trouble.
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“You were gone for twenty minutes,” you say when Mingyu shows up at the lingerie store.
“Yeah, well, it took longer than I thought it would,” the beta sighs, not meeting your eyes.
“What were you even doing?” you press.
“Had to get you a phone,” Mingyu explains, pulling the device out of his pocket. “But it wasn’t just the phone, the sales guy had to talk to me about data plans, and coverage and I-” He shakes his head. “Here, just take it.” 
You look down at the cell, then back up to him. “Why do I need a phone?”
“So you can call people?” he suggests. 
You cock your head to the side. When you’d lived in the wilderness, there was never a need for a phone, let alone the service to make one useful. “Who am I going to call?” 
“Me?” Mingyu coughs awkwardly. “The pack?”
“Fine, I’ll take it,” you concede, grabbing the phone and holding it to your chest. “But only because you’ll have my number. I’m not giving it to the others.”
“Cheol will need it,” Mingyu points out.
“Fine, he can have it too,” you sigh. 
“Did you find some stuff to buy?” the beta asks, looking down at the basket slung over your arm.
“Yup,” you hold up a few pairs of panties. You’d mostly chosen the simple ones, but there are a few racier designs too. “Should we go to the checkout?”
“Yeah,” Mingyu nods, following you to the till. 
When the worker checks all your items through, the cost is pretty high, and you blink in shock at how expensive things like this can be. Mingyu pulls out a card, and pays without a second thought.
He even takes the bag of items, holding it tightly in a hand as you head out of the store.
“Tell Cheol thank you for buying all of this,” you say, immediately assuming Mingyu’s using a pack credit card. Your last living arrangement had had a similar setup, and it’s all you know.
“Oh, uh… Cheol didn’t pay for this,” Mingyu says awkwardly. “I did.”
“You did?” you blink. “The head alpha doesn’t control all the money?”
“No,” Mingyu shakes his head. “We all have jobs and our own banking situations.”
“You have jobs?” 
“Well, Cheol comes from money, so he’s connected to a family business, but most of us do labour, construction, that sort of thing,” Mingyu explains.
“Do I have to get a job?” you ask.
“Sometime down the line,” Mingyu responds. “But for now, I think you should just get used to not being in the forest all the time. You don’t have to pay rent or anything to live on the compound, but if you want to go into town or buy clothes, you’ll probably have to get a job to finance that.”
“Are you sure you can’t just buy things for me?” you tease, poking at Mingyu’s side.
You enjoy the way he swallows, and looks to actually be considering your request. “For now I can,” he says finally.
“I’ll find a job,” you assure him. “I’ve got no references or past experience, but I have things I can do.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Well, I’m pretty good at building things,” you tell him. “My old pack moved around a lot, but when we found places we liked, we could build pretty good cabins out of what was available. They’re not like the cabins you have, but… they’re something.”
“For some reason, I can’t picture you building yourself a cabin.”
“Well,” you consider it for a moment, “let me talk to Cheol, and maybe you’ll get to see me in action yourself.”
Mingyu lets out a laugh. “Now that’s something I’d definitely like to watch.”
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It’s the evening of your second day with the pack when Seungcheol arrives at your cabin door. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” he asks.
“Of course.” You set down the bowl of soup Mingyu had cooked for you, grabbing one of Mingyu’s flannels to put on as you follow the alpha outside. 
He takes you into the field, and the two of you turn to look back at the cabins. “So, I talked to my mom earlier,” Seungcheol says. “She agrees with you about having a few more females come through the compound to help with the birth.”
“That’s good news,” you nod.
“She’s been trying to talk me into it for a while, but, when you showed up and said the same thing- I guess it convinced me,” Seungcheol sighs. “Anyways, a handful of my relatives will be arriving tomorrow. We don’t have cabins for them, so they’ll be bringing RV’s, parking in this field and staying until my mate has our baby. Should be any day now, she’s been having pains recently.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” you nod sympathetically. You’d watched your own mother go through rough final trimesters, and you can’t imagine what it’s like for a woman without other females around. 
Seungcheol seems like a put together guy, but men with ego can sometimes forget that women can provide things for each other that they can’t. 
“Anyways,” Seungcheol looks at you, “there will be an extra bed or two in some of the RV’s. it’s not a long term solution, but I was thinking you might prefer that over staying with Mingyu.”
“Mingyu’s not so bad.”
“Wonwoo wants his bed back,” Seungcheol smiles. 
“Oh, right,” you nod, gaze shifting to the grass at your feet. “Yeah, I can stay in an RV.”
“I was thinking of asking my mom if we could borrow one, or maybe even buy one. The compound needs more cabins, but those take time, and an RV feels like an easy option in the meantime… Mingyu mentioned you have some experience building structures?”
“I do,” you confirm. 
“How would you feel about being part of the build process?” Seungcheol asks.
“I’d love that,” you say honestly. 
“Usually builds are a pack project,” he explains. “A few of the guys can get a cabin up in month or two- you’d be working with them. Think you can take orders?”
“Depends who’s ordering.”
“Mingyu and Jeonghan usually take care of project plans and direction.” 
“That sounds doable.” 
“Good, then it’s settled.” Seungcheol nods to himself. “The cabin designs we use are for two bedrooms, so you wouldn’t have one to yourself. We’ve been thinking of pack expansion for a while, and with you here, it might be easier to get a female beta to join.”
“I’m really surprised your mate is the only female here,” you admit. “With thirteen male wolves, I would have thought at least a few would have partners.”
“What can I say?” Seungcheol shrugs. “Our pack is a boys club.”
“That’s an understatement.” 
“I heard Soonyoung was giving you trouble.”
You laugh. “Mingyu tells you everything, doesn’t he?” 
“He’s loyal,” Seungcheol nods. “He said you put Soonyoung in his place.”
“I tried, but something tells me Soonyoung didn’t get the message,” you sigh. The alpha has tried to talk to you repeatedly in the short time you’ve been here, and it’s led to you putting yourself practically under cabin house arrest in a bid to avoid him. 
“You still mean what you said about backing me up right? I shouldn’t be worried about you making an alliance with Jihoon or Soonyoung?”
“I’m with you, a hundred percent,” you tell him firmly. 
“That’s good to hear,” Seungcheol admits. “It’s nice to have you in my corner.”
“It’s nice to be in a good alpha’s corner. From what I’ve seen of you, you seem like the kind of guy to follow.”
The alpha rubs the back of his neck, letting out a small laugh. “I appreciate that. Maybe you can convince a few of my cousins to join in when they come, they’ve been pretty adamant about not wanting to have anything to do with me.”
“Well, they’re coming to help your wife give birth, so that’s a step in the right direction,” you point out. 
“I wish I could be as optimistic as you,” Seungcheol sighs. “Anyways, thanks for the chat. I’m glad you found your way to us.”
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It feels nice to have some estrogen amongst all the testosterone in the compound. When the women arrive in their RV’s it’s the first time you feel like you can join the pack for lunch. Picnic tables are pulled up into the field, and fold up chairs are placed around a fire where Seungcheol’s mother roasts meat. 
She wasn’t a born alpha, but she’s an alpha now, and there’s a calm peace that comes with having a matriarch around.
With her, are two of Seungcheol’s aunts, and four cousins. When these seven women combine with you and Seungcheol’s mate, that means there are now nine women puttering about. You’re still outnumbered with men by four, but it feels much closer to even. 
One of Seungcheol’s cousins is very focused on his wife, and she goes into his cabin and doesn’t come out. Two of the others seem to be getting to know Joshua and Jeonghan, which feels like an interesting choice to you. The last cousin, however, is clear that her intentions are set on Mingyu. She follows him around like a lost puppy, and the sight makes you sick to your stomach while you gnaw on your food.
“Look at those two,” Soonyoung says, falling into the chair next to yours. “They’re cute, don’t you think?” 
“Sure, cute.” Your voice is near a growl.
“She’s been into him for years, you know.” The alpha taps his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “Wanted to move here and everything.”
“Then why didn’t she?” You can’t believe you’re humouring him by entertaining this conversation, but you itch to know the gossip he has. Although, you’re not entirely sure you can trust a word coming out of his mouth.
“She was younger then, but now she’s grown.” 
She’s definitely grown, and her low neckline shirt shows just how well she’s grown. 
“Seungcheol would love for her to join the pack,” Soonyoung continues.
“Then maybe she should,” you spit, standing. You’re tired of this, tired of watching little miss Choi Seona hang onto Mingyu’s every word, standing as close to him as possible.
“Where are you going?” the alpha asks.
“For a run,” you say, already tearing off your hoodie.
“Oooh, need company?” 
“No,” you respond firmly. “Don’t you dare follow me.”
If he does, he’ll get a full view of you stripping naked in the field behind your cabin before you take off, and if Soonyoung sees you nude, you might just have to kill him.
Luckily, no one follows you, and you’re able to slip out of your clothes unnoticed, your skin tearing as you transform into a wolf and bolt into the trees.
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You only arrive back at the compound after the sun has set, and instead of heading to the RV, you push through Mingyu’s cabin door. 
Wonwoo is sitting on the couch, and he blinks at you. “What are you doing here?”
“Need to use your shower,” you grumble, hardly looking at Mingyu who is standing in the kitchen stirring a pot of ramen.
“The RV has a shower,” Wonwoo says, and you know he’s not really trying to be helpful. 
“I’m using your shower,” you say, firmly this time, and when you reach the bathroom, you slam the door behind you, locking it.
It’s bad enough that you have to stay in an RV with three of Seungcheol’s cousins, sharing a shower with them might be too much. You hope that by the time you get there, the girls are going to sleep, and you can skip any talks about the day. You have nothing to say to Seona.
The hot shower gives you peace. Your mind has been reeling all day, and it’s nice to finally just relax, letting the water wash over you. For some stupid reason, you hadn’t considered the idea that one of the women coming to the compound would like Mingyu, and you realize now that it had been a major oversight on your part.
Of course at least one of the girls likes Mingyu- what’s not to like? 
He’s big and handsome and kind and caring- 
To make matters worse, the two of them have a history, or so Soonyoung says. 
You wonder if Mingyu has feelings for Seona. You wonder how deep the feelings are.
Pushing the thought from your mind, you finish your shower, taking your time to dry off and slip on your clothes. You’d chosen the panties Mingyu liked in the hopes that one day he might see them- but now, you think that day might not ever come… not of Seona has anything to say about it.
When you exit the bathroom, Mingyu is standing there waiting for you, and Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, looking at you with concern.
“Of course,” you say curtly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just… you disappeared at lunch, and you just got back- it’s been hours-”
“Aw, did you miss me, big guy?” you tease, forcing a smile. “That’s cute.”
“I was worried about our deer population,” Mingyu says, and when the side of his mouth quirks up slightly, you realize he’s joking.
“I didn’t kill anything,” you admit. “Just needed to stretch my legs.”
“Do they feel good now?” He looks down at your thighs, bare in the shorts you’re wearing.
“Uh huh,” you nod. “I’m ready to pass out.”
“First night in the RV,” Mingyu muses. “Excited for girl time?”
“No.” 
He laughs. “I didn’t think you would be.”
“Do I not seem like a girls girl kind of girl?” 
“Not really,” he cocks his head. “The good news is they won’t be staying long. Seungcheol’s mom said his mate is really close to giving birth. It’s lucky they arrived when they did. Lucky you convinced Cheol to let them come.”
“I guess we’re all just lucky this week,” you sigh. 
“Yeah…” he looks at you awkwardly, “we are. Or at least… I’ve been feeling lucky lately.”
“Must be nice having a handful of available females around,” you snap, “gives you your pick of the litter.”
“That’s not-” Mingyu’s voice catches. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Sure it wasn’t. Look, I’m tired, I should go.”
“You can take the couch if you want- or my bed, I could have the couch-”
“Wonwoo would hate me more than he already does if I did that,” you sigh. “But thanks for the offer.” 
Mingyu sends you a small smile, and watches you go. As you exit the cabin, he calls out “Goodnight,” and you can’t bring yourself to say it back.
You stomp toward the RV. As you approach, you hear giggles, and you stop, listening by the window. 
“I don’t know guys,” Seona’s voice makes you scowl, “I just think Mingyu is really sweet.”
“He was with you all day,” one of her cousins agrees. “And wasn’t he your first kiss?”
“Shhh! We’re not supposed to talk about that!” Seona whispers, but you can tell the answer is affirmative.
So there is something between Seona and Mingyu. 
Soonyoung hadn’t been lying. 
“I bet he likes you too,” the third cousin muses. 
“He acts like he does,” the other agrees.
You’ve heard enough. 
You can’t stay in the RV with them. Turning, you head back into the woods.
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Mingyu wakes up with excitement coursing through his veins, and it takes a moment for him to remember you’re not in the other room. The morning sun is shining through his window as he pulls on his clothes- it’s funny how only a few days with you has reset his internal clock.
He exits his cabin quietly, not wanting to wake Wonwoo, who has been particularly grumpy since you arrived. Mingyu can’t imagine why though- it’s not like his friend has given you a chance, and he thinks Wonwoo will like you once he puts some effort into getting to know you, the way he has. 
With his hands in his pockets, Mingyu heads to the RV, and he’s pleased to find the door open. He can hear a feminine hustle and bustle, and the smell of coffee makes him smile. “Knock, knock,” he calls softly, peaking his head into the living space.
“Mingyu!” Seona exclaims, rushing over. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept alright,” he nods, scanning the interior in search of you.
“Can I grab you some coffee? I just made a fresh batch, and I make the best in the whole pack.”
“Uh… no thanks,” Mingyu offers her a small smile. “Is y/n around?”
“Nope,” Seona shakes her head. “She never came in last night. We all assumed she was sleeping in one of the cabins.” 
“One of the cabins?” Mingyu’s confused already. “Well she wasn’t with me…”
“Why would she be with you, silly? You’re not an alpha.” 
The smile on Seona’s face tells Mingyu she hadn’t meant it as an insult, but her words still sting. “Well she’s not with Jihoon or Soonyoung, I can tell you that much,” he states.
His words make Seona’s expression fall, and Mingyu also hadn’t meant to be rude, but he can’t help himself. The idea of you spending the night with any of his packmates rubs him the wrong way, and he needs to be certain that the girls visiting don’t think you’re here to find an alpha mate.
“Like I said,” Seona sighs, “she never came in last night.”
“Okay, well, I better go look for her,” Mingyu nods, turning to go.
“But-” Seona starts, however Mingyu’s already walking away, sniffing at the air in the hopes he can catch your scent.
There’d been no rain last night, and no heavy winds, so as he walks into the field, it’s not difficult to catch your smell clinging to the grass. Mingyu guesses he shouldn’t be surprised to find your trail leading into the forest, but at the same time, it makes his stomach twist into knots.
When you’d left at lunch yesterday, there’d been a very real fear in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t see you again, and that fear has returned.
His pace quickens as he reaches the tree line. It’s harder to track you with the forest smells, but Mingyu does his best, stopping at a few points to take deep breaths. You have a note of citrus in your scent, and Mingyu’s come to enjoy the taste of it on his tongue.
But then, the smell stops, and Mingyu finds himself at the foot of a tree. For the life of him, he can’t figure out which way you’ve gone, and he cusses loudly, kicking the pine.
“What the fuck?” 
Your groggy voice causes Mingyu’s head to snap up, and he peers through the branches- locking eyes with you.
“Alpha?” he calls.
“Mingyu?”
He watches you rub your eyes, sitting up on the branch you must have been laying on. “What are you doing up there?” he asks, relief flooding his system.
“Trying to get a decent sleep until someone kicked my bed- why are you out here attacking trees?” you retort. 
“I thought I’d lost your scent-” he tries to explain, which causes you to laugh.
“You were looking for me?” you ask, beginning to climb down.
“Well.. yeah. You weren’t in the RV.”
“Couldn’t spend a night with those girls,” you respond, jumping the last meter and landing on your feet in front of him. “They gossip too much.”
“Really?” Mingyu cocks his head as he looks at you. “Gossiping about what?”
“First kisses, boys, that sort of thing.” You won’t meet his gaze, and Mingyu realizes immediately what you’re talking about.
“Oh,” he says softly.
“Yeah, oh.” You tug your flannel tighter around your body and Mingyu wants to take you in his arms-
“Wait… alpha, are you jealous?”
“No,” you snap. 
“It looks like you’re jealous,” Mingyu points out.
“If you wanna get with Seona then you should get with Seona, why would I care?”
“I don’t want to get with Seona.”
You finally look at him. “You don’t?”
He shakes his head. “It was one kiss, we were both young. It happened years ago.”
“The girls said you were being attentive to her yesterday.”
“As attentive as I can be to Seungcheol’s cousin,” Mingyu explains. “It’s not like I’m going to be rude to her, or any of them.”
“Sometimes I forget you’re just a nice guy,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair and taking a deep breath. Your next words are quiet, “I guess when you were being nice to me, I thought maybe it was more than that.”
He swallows, reaching out to grab your hand. “It was more than that,” Mingyu assures you. 
“Really?” You look up at him and he’s never seen you so vulnerable, so beautiful-
“I don’t just go around buying girls underwear,” he says, which causes you both to laugh. “In case you were wondering.”
“So you’re saying…” you step closer to him, and Mingyu’s body tingles at the proximity. “You like me?”
“That’s probably an understatement,” Mingyu admits.
“Good… I understatedly like you too.” You're still holding his hand, and you give it a small squeeze.
“But-” he blinks at you. “I’m not an alpha or anything-”
“I know you’re not, Gyu,” you laugh. “I think that’s part of why I like you so much. You don’t try to tell me what to do. You don’t try to control me. You just… exist with me. I’m not used to that.”
“I-” Mingyu’s brain is blank. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Maybe you don’t have to say anything,” you suggest, leaning closer. Your gaze dips to his lips, and Mingyu’s tongue darts out to wet them-
You’re about to kiss him, he knows it, and his whole body feels on fire as you close the distance between your chests. 
You let go of his hand, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Do you want to kiss me, Gyu?”
The word ‘yes’ doesn’t even cut it, so instead, he simply presses his lips to your own. It’s not a sweet kiss. It’s not soft, or tentative- it’s hungry, and Mingyu’s hands grab at your hips, tugging you closer. 
Your tongue glides over his own and Mingyu groans loudly, fingers digging into your flannel. He’s not sure what’s come over him, but he simply can’t help himself. He leans down, grabbing at your ass and lifting you off the ground.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, a mewl escaping you as Mingyu presses you back against the tree, pinning you there while he continues to kiss you like he’s never kissed anyone in his whole life.
You feel perfect in his arms, and he could get drunk from your lips. Mingyu can already feel his cock straining against his jeans, a need surging through him like never before.
Mingyu had thought he’d lost you - if even for a moment - and he’s not willing to lose you ever again. He doesn’t want you running into the woods anymore when you’re having emotions, he wants you running to him, and he kisses you as if to say ‘please, never leave.’
He had always thought Seungcheol would be his alpha, but you’d shown up and flipped his world upside down. Mingyu doesn’t care about appeasing his friend anymore- all he cares about is appeasing you- pleasuring you, giving you everything you could ever possibly want, everything you could ever need. 
Nothing in Mingyu’s life has ever felt this right before, and he gets lost in the feeling of you as you claw at his shoulders, kissing him harder and taking his breath away.
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You can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe Mingyu has you pressed to a tree, his mouth hot against your own- 
After so many conflicting emotions in the past twenty four hours, this turn of events has you reeling- or maybe that’s just Mingyu. No one has ever kissed you like this before- like you’re the very air they need to breathe. 
He’s intoxicating, and you need more. 
“Gyu,” you gasp against his lips.
He hums, moving his mouth to your throat, peppering your skin in wet kisses that have you groaning.
“Put me down,” you say, voice shaky.
He doesn’t question you, setting you onto the forest floor-
And then you’re pushing at his chest. “Get on the ground,” you command him.
His pupils are blown with lust and he takes a haggard breath, then he does what you’ve asked of him. He stumbles back, landing in the grassy dirt. 
You’re on him not a moment later, straddling his hips and cupping his face, grinding down against his lap while your need for him grows between your legs. You’ve soaked through your panties, but you can’t bring yourself to care-
He feels like heaven below you, seated upright, hands grabbing at your waist and the small of your back, holding you firm to him while you swivel your hips. 
Your kisses move to his throat, teeth grazing by his jugular, and the beta below you shivers. “Alpha-” 
God, it feels so good to have him addressing you properly, to be giving himself to you like this-
“I wanna fuck you,” you tell him. “I wanna fuck you so bad-”
“Please,” he practically whimpers, and the sound has you moaning loudly. 
You apply pressure to his shoulders again, and he falls flat to the ground, looking up at you while trying to catch his breath. 
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to say anything. 
It’s just you and him, nothing else matters-
A scream cuts through the trees, and your head whips in the direction of the sound. “Did you hear that?” you ask, freezing, your hips coming to a stop while you sit on top of the beta.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Mingyu groans, fingers digging into your skin, urging you to pick up your motions again.
The noise rings again, clearer this time, and you realize immediately what it is. “Shit!” you gasp, jumping to your feet. “The baby is coming!” 
“Now?!” Mingyu sits up abruptly.
“Now,” you confirm. “I have to go.” You lean down to kiss him one last time. “We’ll continue this later,” you promise, and then you’re running through the woods back to the compound. 
Your heart is racing in your chest. You’ve never run this hard before, and your muscles scream at you, but you push on, knowing that you need to get to Cheol’s mate. You need to be there for the birth- it will solidify you as part of the pack, and Hell, lives could be at risk.
You push out of the tree line, eyes zoning in on Seungcheol’s cabin. Women are running around, and a few of the men too. Seungcheol looks wild as you approach, darting up the stairs two at a time-
His hand stops you before you can go through the door. “You smell like Mingyu,” he says.
“Are we really doing this now?!” you ask, breathless. “I need to go help your wife!”
He lets go of your arm, and you enter the cabin, knowing that the next few hours are going to be crucial for not only you, but the entire pack.
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Four hours after arriving to the delivery cabin, you exit it, looking around at the male pack outside. You’d thought it best to leave Seungcheol’s wife with his own family, and after the difficult labour, you need an estrogen break. You also need to let everyone know how things went, especially Cheol, who hadn’t been allowed inside due to the small space already being full of female wolves intent on keeping things as calm as possible.
One look at Seungcheol tells you he’s the furthest thing from calm- and you offer him a small smile. “Congratulations, you have a son,” you tell him softly.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, taking in your blood soaked flannel.
“The baby had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, but luckily for you, two of my brothers were born that way too. We sorted it out. Your mate, and your son, are both looking perfectly healthy.”
There are tears in Seungcheol’s eyes, and he moves to go past you, to enter the cabin, but then he stops, grabbing your arm. “We’ll have to talk about you and Mingyu later,” he warns, voice low.
“I expected nothing less,” you nod.
The alpha releases your arm, entering the cabin and shutting the door behind him.
Mingyu’s the next person in front of you, taking in your clothes. “I-” he reaches out and wipes some blood off your face. “I don’t-”
“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him. You can tell by the way his gaze dips to your lips that he wants to kiss you, but you’re much too dirty for that, covered in all sorts of fluids you have no wish to spread across Mingyu’s pretty features.
“You need a shower,” he tells you. “And new clothes.”
“Not a shower,” you state. “I need a nature cleanse after all of this.”
“I know a river nearby,” Mingyu nods.
“Let’s go,” you say softly, ignoring the rest of the pack as you follow Mingyu down the stairs.
An unexpected hand reaches out and pats you on the shoulder, and you turn to see Jihoon nodding at you. “Good job.”
Another hand reaches out, then two more- they’re all avoiding the blood on the front of your shirt, going for back rubs, and you’re shocked to find that the touch isn’t unwelcome.
It feels like acceptance. Like you’re truly part of the pack now.
Even Soonyoung offers you a small smile as you walk past, and your skin feels alive with emotion as you head with Mingyu to the tree line.
The beta doesn’t say anything as he leads you through the forest, and you prefer it that way. You’ve just had to listen to a woman scream and cry and give birth for hours- the silence makes way for the noises of the forest, and they wash over you, relaxing your tense muscles.
Five minutes of quiet bliss go by, and then Mingyu tells you you’re close to the river. You can hear it over the sound of wind brushing through the trees, and the smell of running water hits your nose.
Your pace quickens, and soon, you reach a small alcove. The river has cut a chunk out of the hillside, and the water is still in comparison to the rush beyond. It looks clean, clear, and welcoming. 
Without a second thought, you strip your shirt and bra off, tossing them onto the rocks. Your pants come next, and soon, you’re completely naked, stepping into the cool alcove.
When you look over your shoulder, you find Mingyu gawking at you, still completely dressed.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” you ask, ignoring the icy water as you wade to your hips. 
The beta tears his flannel off, and you turn away, reaching down to cup the water and wash it over your skin. The liquid tints a soft red colour as you brush away the blood, working your hands over yourself until you’re clean. 
You can hear the lapping of water as Mingyu approaches you, and then his large, warm body is wrapping around your back, pulling you tight to his chest.
“You’re amazing,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you retort, turning in his embrace and encircling your arms around the back of his neck. Your breasts press against his bare chest, and he looks down at you with eyes full of wonder.
His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and then he’s kissing you softly. 
You melt against him, letting out a groan- 
You’d been in midwife mode, but the feelings of what had taken place just before hearing the initial scream come back quickly. The need you have for Mingyu returns with full force and you deepen the kiss, gliding your tongue against his bottom lip. 
He stifles a moan, reaching down to grab your hips, pulling you flush to his body. You can feel his hard length trapped between you, and your pussy flutters at the realization that his cock is as big as the rest of him.
Before you can reach for him, Mingyu’s hand is slipping between you, his fingers seeking out your clit, and you moan loudly in his mouth. “I wanna-” he swallows, breaking the kiss to look down at you. “I wanna say you’re wet, but we’re in a river.” 
“I’m wet,” you confirm, digging your nails into his broad shoulders. “You feel so good-”
His lips move down to your neck, and he finds your sweet spot much too fast. You gasp loudly, tangling your fingers in his hair while you grind down against his hand, his digits rubbing harder on your clit.
“No, you feel so good,” he grumbles, breath hot on your throat, making you twitch.
His touch rubs lower, teasing your opening, and you whimper in his embrace. Your eyes close and you lean toward him, resting your forehead on his shoulder while he presses a digit into your core. 
“Shit, alpha,” Mingyu gasps. “You’re so tight-”
“Guess… guess you better work me open if I’m going to take you properly,” you tell him, tugging gently on his hair.
“Yes, alpha,” Mingyu pants, moving his finger in and out of your pussy, “I can do that.”
When you open your eyes and look down, you’re enthralled by his pretty cock, bobbing just below the water. You let go of his hair in favour of wrapping your hand around his length and Mingyu groans loudly by your ear. 
“You’re so big,” you whisper, marveling at how your fingers can’t even touch as you slowly move up and down his shaft. “My big, sweet, beta.”
Mingyu moans again, pressing fevered kisses against your throat and your under jaw. He likes praise, and luckily for you both, you like praising him. 
“Such a good beta for me,” you continue, gasping when he fucks his digit into your harder, palming your clit. “Stretching me so good- add another finger Gyu, I need it.”
You groan when he follows through, your pussy fluttering to accommodate the second intrusion. 
The cold water is lapping at your sides, his forearm flexing with effort while he finger fucks you closer and closer to the edge. Your own hand is still wrapped around him, and you tease your thumb over the slit, making him gasp loudly.
“You like that, big guy?” You smile, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 
“Yes, alpha,” he nods, sucking on your earlobe. 
“But you’re not going to cum until you’re inside me, right?” you question.
“No, I can-” he lets out a strangled sound when you pump him harder, “I can wait.”
“Good puppy.” 
He whimpers at the pet name, licking your throat while his fingers continue inside of you. 
You swivel your hips, grinding down against his palm, driving his digits deeper into your pussy while moans slip past your lips.
“Gyu,” you whisper, “I’m gonna cum.”
“Please, cum, alpha. Please cum for me,” he begs, sounding as needy as you’ve ever heard him.
Your pussy flutters at his words, and he continues to edge you on, moaning “please” softly in your ear until you’re on the cusp of pleasure. 
“Gyu,” you groan, closing your eyes as your body tenses-
“Come on, alpha,” he encourages you. “Cum on my fingers.” 
Your brain short circuits as your pussy clamps down on him, waves of ecstasy rolling through you, making you shudder in his embrace. 
“You sound so good,” he praises you, sucking on your throat while his fingers continue inside of you, helping you through your orgasm until you’re gasping and clawing at his shoulder, tightening your grip on his cock. “Fuck, alpha-” he groans. 
“Need you inside of me,” you tell him, letting go of his length to steady your hands on his shoulders. 
He pulls his fingers out of your core, grabbing your ass to lift you up. Your legs wrap around his hips and one of his hands lines his cock with your pussy. His eyes look into yours, as if he’s asking permission, and you nod, bracing yourself for the stretch that comes a moment later.
“Fuck-” you groan, burying your face against his throat as he begins to fill you up.
Two digits were big, but his cock is bigger, and your inner walls work to accommodate him as he pushes in inch by inch.
You’re trembling by the time he’s fully inside of you, your hips pressed together. His lips press kisses to your hair, and his fingers dig against your hips. 
“You feel like Heaven,” he breathes.
“But you better fuck me like Hell,” you retort, swallowing thickly as you get used to his size. 
“You got it, alpha,” Mingyu nods.
Something tells you even if you weren’t in the river alcove, Mingyu could fuck you like a beast carrying you in this position, but the water makes it even easier for him to maneuver your body. It almost feels effortless, if it weren’t for his large biceps bulging as he begins to rut into you.
God, he’s so fucking pretty-
His cock hits all your spots, filling you just right. 
If you’d been lost in his kisses, you’re practically brain dead from his cock. You’re clinging to his shoulders, eyes closed in bliss as he pleasures you, rutting into you faster and harder, making the water lap loudly at your sides.
Mingyu’s groaning in your ear, and the sound makes your pussy flutter around him, which only makes him louder. “Alpha-” he cries desperately, grip digging into your ass.
“That’s it, puppy,” you coo, threading your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing so good for me-”
He’s panting now, and you realize he must be close. You suppose that’s what happens when he gets to finger fuck you to an orgasm but you make him wait after stroking him off.
You hadn’t thought about what do to with his cum when you’d entered the water, and now, you’re realizing you’re going to have to make him pull out.
After just helping Seungcheol’s mate give birth, you’ve discovered you don’t want kids anytime soon, and Mingyu cumming inside of you could pose a bit of a problem to your future plans.
You’re going to hate to do this to him- even though you know he won’t protest.
In the dark corners of your mind, part of you plays with the idea of him refusing to pull out. Of him going full alpha and negating your wishes, of him filling you to the brim with his cum and forcing you to feel all of him. 
But you don’t want an alpha. You want him. And it feels like freedom to be fucking a beta who is going to listen to your every word.
“Gyu,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair.
He grunts.
“You can’t cum inside of me,” you tell him.
“Fuck, right- yeah,” he nods, swallowing thickly. “I can pull out.”
“But you’ll make me cum first, right?” you question.
God, it might just kill him to fuck you while you cum and hold off his own orgasm, only to pull out of you and jack off into the stupid river-
“Yes alpha, I’ll make you cum,” he promises, fucking you harder. “Please, I’m close- I need you to cum-”
“I’m close too,” you assure him, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of his massive cock stretching out your pussy. You can feel a vein running along the underside of his length, that’s how big he is, and it makes your toes curl. “Shit, puppy-”
“Please,” he whimpers, and you realize he’s nearly overstimulated. 
Having Mingyu completely undone while he fucks you is the cherry on top of your pleasure, and you let out a choked gasp, holding onto him tightly while your second orgasm slams into you.
Your pussy clamps down on his cock and Mingyu lets out a loud moan, fingers digging into your hips roughly. He’s panting hard, cussing all sorts of swear words into your ear while he fucks you through your high, taking care of you until you’re done.
The moment you push at his shoulders, he pulls out of you, letting you onto your feet while he wraps a hand around his cock-
“No, let me,” you insist, pushing his fingers out of the way so you can grab his aching length with both fists. 
You press your lips to his neck, kissing him and licking at his sensitive skin while you jack him off, and a second later he’s letting out a deep moan in the back of his throat. It’s something near a growl, and it’s one of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard.
“That’s it, puppy,” you praise. “Cum for me. Cum for me, big guy, just like that-”
“Alpha,” he whimpers, body jerking as your touch overstimulates him, and when he’s done, he pushes your hands away from his throbbing cock, struggling to catch his breath. 
He leans down, resting his forehead against yours while you both stand there panting. 
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. His heart is racing wildly, and you smile against his skin, pressing soft kisses there. “That was so good,” he tells you. “You’re so good-”
“You did all the work,” you whisper, holding him tighter.
“No, I just did what alpha asked me too,” he argues. 
You decide to let him win this one, and you melt against his warm chest, snuggling closer. 
You’re not sure how long you stand like that, but when Mingyu finally lets you go, he cups your jaw, bringing your lips to his.
“I love you,” he murmurs, and it makes your body tense. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said it-”
“No,” you assure him, pressing your hand on his chest. “I love you too.”
“You do?” Mingyu blinks down at you.
You nod. “In fact… I would have marked you, made you mine, but… I have to talk to Seungcheol first.”
“Right,” Mingyu swallows, “Seungcheol.” 
“You remember your other alpha, right, big guy?” you laugh.
“Yeah.” The beta runs a hand through his hair, gaze shifting to the rocky shore. “We should probably head back.”
“That might be a good idea,” you concede. “Seungcheol probably needs you right now.”
Mingyu nods, grabbing your hand and leading you back to the water’s edge. 
He lets you out first, and you have the suspicion he’s staring at your ass.
“Take my flannel,” Mingyu tells you. “Your clothes are ruined.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” you grin, reaching down for the long shirt that acts like a dress as you wrap it around your naked form. 
Mingyu tugs on his jeans, and you fish your panties out of your clothes, slipping them on. 
“You know, I got these so you could see me in them,” you admit, showing him your ass, “But you hardly got to enjoy them before we got in the water.”
“I have time to enjoy them,” he assures you, pulling you in for a kiss.
He smiles against your lips, and you laugh, looking up at him. “What?”
“I’m just thinking… thinking about the day you arrived here. How I gave you my shirt then, and now here we are, with you in another flannel.”
“You were my knight in shining armour,” you tell him, heart swelling at the memory.
“I can’t explain it,” Mingyu says, “but part of me knew even then- I knew that you were going to change everything. I’m so happy you came to us.”
You beam up at your new mate. “Me too.”
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You’re not surprised to find Seungcheol waiting for you when you arrive back at the cabins. He’s on his porch, holding a tiny bundle of blankets, and he stands when you and Mingyu exit the forest.
“I’m going to go talk to him,” you tell Mingyu.
“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks.
“I think this is something he’ll want to discuss alone, you know, alpha business.” You gently elbow Mingyu’s side and he flashes you a smile.
“Whatever you say,” he agrees, breaking off from you to head toward his own cabin while you approach the alpha watching you. 
“Hi,” you greet Seungcheol, stopping at the steps. 
“Hi,” he responds, gaze following Mingyu. 
“That’s a cute baby you’ve got there,” you offer, hoping to break some of the tension you’re feeling.
“He wouldn’t be here without you,” Seungcheol nods. “My mother said you pulled your weight today, and I wanted to thank you.”
“No need,” you assure him. “I was happy to help… is your mate asleep?”
“Yeah, she needs rest.” Seungcheol starts down the stairs. “Come walk with me.”
The two of you head out into the field, and you wait for Seungcheol to start the conversation you know you’re about to have.
The alpha stops in the middle of the open space, looking back at the cabins. “Is it real?” he asks finally.
“Hmm?”
“You and Mingyu,” Seungcheol clarifies, gently rocking the baby in his arms. “Is it real.”
“Yeah,” you nod, licking at the grass and everting your eyes. “I felt something the moment I saw him.”
“He’s a good guy,” Seungcheol sighs. “An even better beta, and the best right-hand man I could have ever asked for.”
“You’re lucky to have him,” you agree. “And he knows how lucky he is to have you as an alpha.”
“And that’s how it’s always going to be,” Seungcheol breathes. “I’m his alpha. I can’t have him torn between us if disagreements ever arise. I could manage if someone else was loyal to you, but not him.”
“He’s still loyal to you,” you insist. “As I said when we met, I’m not looking to be a leader. He can be your right-hand man, and I can be your… left-hand woman.” You both chuckle at the notion. “No one will challenge you with me and Mingyu at your side.”
“I guess there’s truth in that,” Seungcheol admits. 
“I admire you,” you continue. “Not only did you not choose an omega as a mate, you chose a human, and you made her into a beta. I don’t know many alphas that can say that. I think… I think if you get to choose your mate, I should be able to as well.”
“Is that an alpha suggestion, or your personal opinion?”
“Just an opinion,” you say softly. 
There are a few beats of silence, and you listen to the wind rustling through the trees. It’s shocking how much has changed in just a few days. New life in the pack, both the baby and you. New love too.
“I don’t know you that well yet,” Seungcheol says, choosing his words carefully. “But if Mingyu trusts you, then I guess I do too.”
“Really?” you look at the alpha, eyes widening.
Seungcheol doesn’t meet your gaze, he continues looking out at the cabins, but he gives a curt nod. “If you both like each other as much as you obviously do, who am I to come between that?”
“Well, you’re the alpha, so the decision is really up to you-”
“No,” Seungcheol shakes his head. “This isn’t the sort of thing I want to be a deciding authority on. And… if it’s any consolation, the two of you have my blessing.”
Your breath catches, and your throat feels dry. “Thank you,” you say, voice cracking. “I uh… Thank you.”
“No need,” Seungcheol smiles, repeating the words you’d said to him only a minute ago. “Just…” he turns to face you, “don’t break his heart, yeah?”
“Alpha,” you laugh, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good,” Seungcheol nods. “Welcome to the pack.”
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm such a simp for simp beta gyu-
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🔮 preview. “You’re so pretty,” your mate groans, one of his large hands sneaking up to cup your breast. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you whimper at the feeling. Mingyu sits up suddenly, adjusting a palm to the floor so he can keep himself up while his lips seek out your breasts. He starts by sucking a mark into your skin, letting out a deep sound of pleasure while pressing his face between your boobs. You place your hands on his shoulders, using him as leverage to fuck him harder. The sound of your thrusts fills the small room, and you can hear how wet you are with each bounce. You bet Jeonghan and Joshua can hear it too.
cw/ tw. Protected sex, vouyerism (sex while others listen), slight exhibitionism (sex in an unfinished cabin), size kink, boob worship, mentions of claim marks, big dick Mingyu, praise, dirty talk, mutual orgasm, blow job, deep throating,  etc… I pet names: (hers) alpha. (his) big guy, puppy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 400
🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
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bonus
It’s not that working on building cabins out in the forest had been easy, but nothing compares to the difficulties of trying to focus on a build while Mingyu walks around shirtless, skin glistening in the sun with sweat. His scent perfumes the locations he’s working on, and it’s been three straight weeks of you trying desperately to ignore the wet of your panties sticking to your core.
The structure is definitely coming together though, and each day brings you closer to having a place you can call your own. Fucking Mingyu in the RV has been… interesting to say the least. He’s just so big- he doesn’t fit in the tiny bunk bed, so he’s taken to fucking you against the walls, the whole wheeled home rocking-
In fact, a few of your new packmates have come up with the saying, ‘When the RV’s a’ rockin’ don’t come a knockin'. You’re much too used to fogged up windows and biting into a pillow to stop screams from escaping the badly insulated vehicle, and the idea that soon you’ll have a cabin to fuck him in is making you all the more eager to get the project complete.
“When do you think we’ll get this done?” you ask, looking over Jeonghan’s shoulder at the project plans as you finish up for the day.
“Two weeks?” he suggests. “We’ve been making good time on this. Our window guys is set to come in a few days and then after that we just have to set up plumbing and electrical, then furnishings-” Jeonghan lets out a deep breath, considering all the moving parts. “Yeah, I could see you and Mingyu moving in here pretty soon.”
“Mingyu’s not moving in with me,” you insist.
Jeonghan flashes you a knowing smile. “Sure he isn’t.” The wolf rolls up the cabin plans, looking around the space. “You know, even though the windows aren’t in yet, I’m pretty sure if you and Mingyu wanted to christen the place, it’s far enough from everyone else that you could get away with it without Seungcheol knowing and getting mad.”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you smirk.
“That’s me, I’m just full of good ideas,” Jeonghan returns your grin. “But at the same time… if you wanted us to hear you two, if you wanted to be loud, I don’t think any of us would mind.”
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2K notes · View notes
00-jammy-00 · 28 days
Note
Helloo!!^_^
Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!
I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33
Btw could I be 🍯 anon?
Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s
Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.
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Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?
Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3
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wonderlandwalker · 4 months
Text
Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.
Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence
Word Count: 3.4k
A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos
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This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.
Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.
But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.
The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.
“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.
“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.
He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.
“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.
"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.
"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.
He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.
“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”
And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.
He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.
Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.
It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after
Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.
“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.
“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.
“Go back where?”
“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”
“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.
“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”
The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.
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When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.
“Where?” She asked him
“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.
“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.
“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”
“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”
“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.
“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”
“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?
“They’re at the swamp”
“How are you so sure?”
“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”
“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.
“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.
“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.
“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”
“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.
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While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.
He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.
“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.
“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.
“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”
And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.
“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.
“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”
“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.
“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.
He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.
He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’
It was far too late for that.
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When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.
“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.
Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.
“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.
But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.
He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.
He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.
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When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.
“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.
“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.
“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.
“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.
“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.
“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.
“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.
“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”
“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”
Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.
“Goddamnit”
You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.
“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.
You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.
After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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can I request steve x shy!reader where he asks her out? I could imagine him being totally smitten and she is just beet red, can’t imagine that king steve is paying her any mind!
summary: a lovesick steve asks out a shy you
shy!fem!reader 0.8k words
You’re staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting thing on the planet. Steve thinks it’s cute. He’s totally endeared by your shyness. He strides over to you and sticks his foot out to tap your shoe with his.
“Hey you.”
Slowly you lift your gaze. You’re already flushed in the cheeks and all Steve said was hey. He feels slightly bad for what he’s about to ask, how shy he’s about to make you, but then again he doesn’t think he can contain himself very much longer. Not when you look this pretty. Not when you’ve been waiting outside Family Video for five minutes, because Steve had called you and told you he had something to ask you.
You lift your head and Steve gets to see your face kissed by the lovely golden sun, your eyes pools of colour in the light. You’re really pretty. It makes his heart stutter.
“Hi, Steve,” you say quietly. Steve likes the way your lips move around his name. Likes the way you speak it like it’s something special and not just a generic white guy name.
He grins at you. “Hi,” he says, even though he’s already greeted you. He’s feeling about as nervous as you look. He swallows. “How’s it going, hm? You doing okay?”
You wrinkle your face up and lift your shoulder in a shrug. It’s soft. And undeniably cute.
“I’m okay,” you say softly. You smile at him, cheeks all plump and flushed, and Steve thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the whole of Hawkins. Maybe the whole world.
His heart pounds but he’s already here, he can’t back out now. He smiles back.
“Good, that’s good,” he nods, and cards a hand through his thick hair. He realises a second too late he’s probably messed it up — he’d spent about ten minutes checking it in the Family Video window before this, and now he’s gone and ruined it. Somehow, he doesn’t think you’d care even if his hair looks like a nest right now.
“What did you want to ask me?” You say, mostly shy but a little curious. You’d wondered aloud, when he’d called you, why he couldn’t just tell you over the phone. Steve had answered that this was too important for a phone conversation, he’d come and see you after work. You’d come to him instead. It makes the whole thing all the more nerve-wracking for Steve.
“Right. So I was wondering,” he starts, but his voice comes out constricted and too-high. Smooth, Steve. Real smooth. He’s not going to be telling Robin about this. “Uh, I wanted to ask you.” He pauses. You look half terrified and half hopeful. “Would you maybe want to go out with me sometime? I think you’re really cool and I like you a lot, but, um. You can say no.”
His voice goes up at the end and he cringes internally. Definitely not his smoothest moment. You blink up at him owlishly. You look, not surprisingly, quite stunned. Like Steve’s gone and told you he’s from Mars. Your mouth opens.
“Me?” You ask, your tone hushed.
A laugh bursts out of Steve before he can stop it. It’s less of an amused laugh and more of a she’s-so-cute-are-you-kidding-me? laugh.
“Yes, you,” he chuckles, grinning like a fool, his cheeks aching with it. “Who else?”
You flush all over and duck your head again, go back to staring at your shoes. “Well, you know, I’m— I’m quiet. And you’re …” You gesture vaguely to Steve with your hands. “You’re Steve Harrington.”
“Sweetheart,” he soothes, and grabs your hands before he can psyche himself out. He wraps his fingers over the back of your hands and pressed his thumbs to your palms. Gives you a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be silly. I like you. I don’t care if you’re a bit shy. Everyone is.”
You look up at him. You’ve got this look on your face like you’re trying very hard to frown but a smile is winning. “You’re not.”
“Oh, yes I am,” Steve says indignantly. You make me shy, he doesn’t say.
You giggle at his tone and it’s probably the best thing Steve’s ever heard in his life.
“I don’t believe you,” you say, all smiles.
Steve sighs. “Whatever.” He drops your joint hands so they dangle between you and him. “So, what’s your answer?”
He already knows your answer. Already knows you like him just as much as he likes you. Maybe not quite as much. He likes you so much it makes him feel queasy sometimes.
“Yes,” you say breathlessly, smiling like Steve has just told you you’ve won the lottery.
Steve feels a bit like he’s won the lottery himself, with you looking at him like that.
-
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itstheghostofmypast · 2 months
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15.07
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Choi San x (f)Reader
Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?
Genre: PURE FLUFF
Warnings: NONE
Word Count: 2.1K
Est. Read Time: 10 min
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels
A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING
@edenesth version: [12.58]PM
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"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.
Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.
"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."
Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"
"No, why?"
"Do you like cats?"
"Yeah, why?"
He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.
The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.
"Can I put the litter here?"
"All your windows are locked right?"
"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."
"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."
"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"
He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.'  Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.
"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.
Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.
She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.
"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "
"I'm taking her to the vet."
"She's shivering."
"Okay, my car isn't working!"
'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."
"They say she has a fever, some bug?"
"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."
"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."
"San plz reply soon."
"San I'm scared."
Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.
"San!"
His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.
"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."
It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”
“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”
After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.
Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."
Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.
Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"  
"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"
"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.
"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."
"What an analogy."  she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."
"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.
“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”
Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”
“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”
“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”
Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.
“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.
“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”
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Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie
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From mistakes, we grow
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Warning. angst, mention of pregnancy, divorce AU, modern AU, fluff
Summary: Two hearts, separated by a mistake made in haste. Aemond was never so determined to mend wounds as he wanted to mend the bleeding one of his marriage.
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You sat in a neatly decorated conference room. The walls are white, and a glass front looks over downtown King's Landing behind you. The room was bright and oddly warm for a conference room of a law firm. Probably feng shui.
A large glass table separated you from your future ex-husband. Aemond, ever the notorious perfectionist, sat in a black three-piece suit and black tie. You wouldn’t have picked that combination out for him. You would have given him a little speck of colour like his favourite sapphire blue tie. But he wasn’t at home anymore. He had moved into a penthouse where his grandfather’s real estate company belonged. The blue tie hanging in your closet, alone and forgotten.
His hair was falling like a waterfall over his shoulders. Neatly tied back in the middle on the back of his neck. Not your preferred hairstyle, you liked his man-bun more. His bangs framed his chiselled face. A look that made your panties drop in an instant.
You closed your eyes momentarily, banning those thoughts out of your head. You sat in this room, in front of him, to finalise the divorce and tie the loose ends. Fumbling with the handle of your bag, you calmed yourself down a bit. The blue bag he had bought you with his first hard-earned money he received after his first case. He was so proud when he bought it for you. You had beamed that day too, as he told you he had won.
He never lost a case in his entire career. Your stomach churns at the reminder.
Your lawyer and his discussing the terms of the shared custody. Your daughter was only four. Still in kindergarten. None the wiser why daddy wasn’t home.
Your eyes focused on the skin of your thumb as you began to scratch it. Aemond wanted to reach out and stop you from tearing your soft skin. A bad habit you developed during your college years. His heart ached as he saw the blood oozing out of the small wound.
Your eyes widened as your lawyer argued with you giving up your career as a lawyer during your final years of law school because you had fallen pregnant. Your breathing became heavy, your hands clammy. The familiar weight on your chest weight heavy. „I need a break.“ You choked out softly. All eyes are on you.
You pushed your chair away and got up, rushing out of the conference room. You were all too familiar with this office. Aemond had been working here as a paralegal during law school, supporting your growing family. He had worked here since he passed the bar test and became a lawyer. Even got promoted to junior partner just six months ago.
Your heart hammered in your chest. Six months ago all this began. When he came home that night, kissing your cheek and telling you he was now junior partner.
He had promised to be home that night for Maeya’s first tooth she would put under her pillow. He wasn’t there like all the other times he promised to be there but wasn’t. Your daughter fell asleep with the tooth in her hand cradled to her chest. She told you over and over again that her daddy would come. And he would watch her but it underneath. It sounded like Maeya was convincing herself at that point.
But it wasn’t your disappointment of him not being there or that he forgot about it. It was the hidden disappointment in your daughter’s eyes that brought you to your breaking point. You couldn’t take it anymore.
You walked on, hearing his quick steps following you. He called your name several times. Trying to gain your attention. Reaching you right before you turned the corner.
“You told your lawyer~” You held up your hand. Aemond immediately stopped. “I need air.” Your voice was breathless and small, kicking his overprotectiveness into overdrive. His eyes widened as he heard your whimpering voice. The panic in your eyes. He nodded curtly before leading you to the office balcony.
You began to shiver, a sign your adrenaline was wearing off. He took off his jacket, laying it over your shoulder. You looked at him with a soft smile. A smile he missed so much in the last months. He felt alive again standing in front of you.
“I told my lawyer I gave up law school to take care of Maya. I never said I regretted it. Because I don’t. But apparently, she thinks I do.” You walked over to the railing, watching the busy streets below. “You know I hated law school. But my parents made me do it. You gave me an out. A bit unconventional but I never regretted it. And you know how much I love my flower shop.”
Aemond smiled softly as he listened to you. Your parents had pressured you into law school. Wanting you to fulfil their fucked-up legacy of a lawyer dynasty.
He remembered the day you told him you were pregnant. It was during a stressful exam month. Your period was late. You put it off due to stress, it had happened before. He took your word. Believing you, it was your body, even if he had your period marked in his calendar.
You had screamed through the apartment. Jumped around in glee as he stood in the doorway of the tiny bathroom. How you had sung so happily that you were with his child. His anxiety disappeared as you fell around his neck and kissed him passionately.
He had never seen you so relieved as the day you dropped out of law school. Not even after giving birth.
“I know.” He mumbled softly. Standing next to you. Close but not touching you.
“I can’t do this.” You whimpered again. The corners of your eyes fill with tears.
Aemond looked down at you. His eyes trailing your shivering body. The need to hold you close grew the longer he stared at you. “Can’t do what?” There it was, the moment of truth you had been waiting for. “I don’t want to get a divorce. It was stupid. I don’t know what ran through my mind. This mess is all my fault.”
As he saw this beautiful woman ramble on about how she had caused all this he couldn’t take it. You had sacrificed so much for him and his career. You, who would have become a great lawyer if you wanted to? Even better than him.
Instead, you worked in a rundown flower shop next to campus until you could afford your own. Not wanting to take his money or the money from his trust fund you both swore only to touch for your daughter.
His heart broke into millions of pieces as you blamed yourself for the divorce. “Stop, darling.” The term of endearment fell from his lips so effortlessly. He held your shoulders, softly squeezing them as he heard your hateful words.
“It was my fault. I am a workaholic who forgot a lot of milestones in our daughter’s life. I am the one who took you for granted. A mistake I made time and time again. Regretting it every day but still I continued.” He took a deep breath. His body shaking in anger at himself. “My darling, you are incredible and flawless. Don’t you ever blame it on yourself when you should blame me? My love, my heart, my world don’t you dare go to that dark place when your anger should be on me.”
You looked up at him. Your tears falling down your cheeks. “I can never hate you.” Your voice cracked as you sobbed. Aemond finally pulled you into his chest, not caring for any makeup stains from your tears leaving stains on his shirt. He needed you to know you are loved. Wrapped up in warmth.
“I can’t do this without you.” You sobbed again. Your face pressed into his chest. “I don’t want to do it alone.”
Aemond tightened his arms around you. “You won’t. I will cut down on my office hours. I can work from home now. A small perk of being junior partner now.” He kissed the top of your head. “Not that I will be working so much when I am home. I’ll take care of the household while you are gone. By the way, you need to teach me how to cook. I have been eating takeout and convenience food for the last six months.” His voice was sheepish like a boy telling his parent he did something wrong.
Your small giggle warmed his heart. He kissed the top of your head once more. “I can help you with that. I will be at home a lot too.” You looked up at him with a teary smile. You never looked more beautiful to him than in this moment.
A pale silver-blonde brow was raised as your words rang in his head. “Why? Is everything okay with the shop? Did I do something wrong? Did you lose it?” He spiralled down a hole. His mind was racing if he had done the right calculations for you. If he had missed something.
You had never been good with numbers. Always give him your finance books and bills to go over it until the late hours. He never minded. Knowing he was helping you pursue your dream like you did with his.
“No, the shop is fine.” You mumbled sheepishly. “I will take a break to raise our kids.” His mind stopped reeling and he looked down at her. Only now he felt it. The telltale of a small bump hidden under a thick wool sweater.
“That day…” You swallowed thickly at mentioning that fateful day. “So many things clashed. Mae was so overexcited about her tooth. An order had not been delivered on time. There was a bridezilla trying to rip me off. I was nauseous the whole day and I found out I was pregnant. And you were not there when I needed you. I was not in the right mind when I demanded the divorce.”
Aemond’s heart broke once more. He had come home late, slightly drunk and had nearly gone straight to bed if Sara hadn’t stopped him and told him her piece of mind that night.
You pressed yourself tighter to his chest. “I called you so many times before I hung up again in the last months. I was so scared I hurt you so much that you hated me.” He remembered those calls. Always picking up and waiting for you to talk only to hear the click of the phone as the call ended.
“I am sorry I was not the best at the moment. I know I buried myself in my work and rarely left it at the front door. I let you down even if I swore I wouldn’t. My darling, I never wanted to be my father but I had become him. Taking you and Mae for granted even though you are the ones that spur me on.”
He leaned down, kissing you deeply with all the love he held for you. “Love, I will move mountains if I can’t be there for you at the moment. I would never abandon you, Maeya or this little one ever again.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “And if I do, I will personally ask Baela to frame me for anything and put me in jail.” A small chuckle escaped you at Aemond’s words. His cousin, a pretty damn good detective in the King’s Landing police force, would do it in a heartbeat. You were her best friend and the godmother to Maeya.
“Let’s go back inside, burn the papers, pick up our little girl from kindergarten and get lunch at the Dornish restaurant we all love so much.” He whispered, kissing your forehead once more. You closed your eyes. Relief washed over your body as Aemond guided you out of his workplace. Holding on to him and never letting go again.
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tteokdoroki · 2 years
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OCTOBER 8TH. HADES
“my sweet, deluded little minion. aren't we forgetting one teensy-weensy but ever-so-crucial tiny little detail? i own you.”
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♱ — keigo takami + hate sex.
♱ — synopsis; as a naive little girl in love you make a deal that gets you stuck with the unrelenting god of the underworld, and no matter how sweet he may fuck you…you’ll spend all of eternity hating him if you have to.
♱ —length; 5.4K
♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, mentions of death, restraints, marking, branding, creampies, thigh riding, impact play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, possesive sex, hate sex, unprotected sex, fem!reader, hades!hawks. not beta read !
♱ — notes; screee happy sinister saturday !! tonight i bring you hawks beloved besmooched as disney's hades!! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it. !! mwah !! - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪
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pity. 
you should not have pity for the weak because you are weak, yourself. 
you’re weak because you’re too kind; you hate to see a dying soul twisting through those who end up in the land of the undead, shackled to their fate of never returning where the living are. you feel their desperation, hear it in the woeful cries of lost lives as they make their trip down a stream of decay— to be damned for almost all of eternity and like them, you’re desperate too. the underworld is a place to be hated, you think, tying you down to the stench of death and you’re so desperate to feel the sun on your skin once more…to taste the juice of a ripened fruit and feel the warm breeze against your skin while you brush through locks of silvering hair. 
you miss the air in your lungs, you miss breathing him in like he was oxygen.
touya, was there name of the man you missed most about the world up above— his lips often tasted of sour grapes, his skin was rough from scratches and scrapes too but soft whenever you held a his hand. you thought that he adored you— touya would worship you like the gods had put your portrait in the stars up above and you’d do the same…spending your free time counting the flecks in cerulean eyes while soft white hair flows in the warm wind. he was brave, you knew that, a warrior who was strong and had promised you his hand once he returned from the battles his father had called him upon. 
you were promised, you were happy and more in love than you thought possible— until the day touya tells you that he loves you with his dying breath, a sickness sweeping over topaz fem eyes, and you know he’d take your heart to the underworld too.
“you still thinkin’ about him, doll?” 
the warmth of your day dreams slip away as the chill of his voice fills the stone cold lair. you dare to let your fingertips drift through the river of souls below the wall you lean against. “‘m not in the mood, hades.” the god of the underworld, keigo takami is a nuisance if you’d ever known one. a pain in your ass full of feathered flames— bright blue in all of their glory, they’re colder than most would expect, unbecoming of the colour that sprout’s from the king of the undead’s back. 
“hawks. keigo, baby. c’mon little bird…” his voice is tight with humour, surprisingly playful for someone doomed to be surrounded by lifelessness for all of eternity. all of the underworld is dreary and damp, worn arching mountains made of old bones, skulls and teeth— rocks as sharp as swords that end lives with the sickly green stream of whining dead mortals. you can’t breathe down here…there’s no space for you to escape nor breathe around him and you hate it. “oh sugarplum…don’t play sourpuss! we’re all friends here!” the blonde god that burns cold flames picks your dainty fingers from the acidic pool of death. 
he grinds your gears, and you have nowhere else to go. the thought of being stuck with a man who rules over ruined lives— infuriating you to no end. “i am not—“ you seethe, shoulders raised like a hissing cat or something akin to the three headed dog that guards this place. “your friend. far from it, hades.” the look on your face is far from impressed, discourteous with your lips turned into a nasty sneer and a sweltering spark to your usually pretty docile eyes. 
it’s such a shame, how ill behaved you are after everything the man has done for you. “it’s hawks, honey.” the man reminds you, and in a flash he’s on you in all the ways you despise. his slimey grip of death squeezes your cheeks, dragging you up to his mighty height with your face in the palm of his burning hand. hades…hawks, he’s mean when he’s unhappy— the flames that form the wings of a fallen angel flicker a brilliant red and the temperature of them skyrockets. “‘n this is no way to act after all i’ve done for you cupcake.” despite the fury that radiates from the god…he coos gently. 
“if i remember correctly… i’m the one who saved your little prick of a boyfriend… aren’t I?” even through all of the robes keigo wears, you can still feel the molten heat of his skin against yours as he pulls you in close— though you dangle from his hold, you’re practically chest to chest. you scramble to get away, but the god only digs his thumb further into your cheek. “we had a deal. your soul for his life.” with his free hand, he creates an apparition, tufts of smoke dancing to form people…one showing touya who bends at the knee to take the other’s hand— this one being you. 
at first, the two characters seem happy, and an emotion akin to fondness settles in your bones— but not before touya’s little smoke figure trails away from yours to follow another woman “s’not my fault he left you. don’t take it out on me, doll,” hawks drawls, snapping his fingers to make the apparition disappear, your heart rattled in its place after reliving the scene and you force your gaze away with a grunt directed at the god. “now, since you’re being oh so disrespectful, we’ll add…give or take, another five years to your sentence with me instead of taking away seven. how’s that sound?” 
“fuck you, hades.” turning your head, you spit directly between the god’s eyes, fuelled by your own hurtful rage.
your elevated, living pulse does nothing but serve to piss off the king of the underworld more— his blonde set of locks nearly exploding off of the top his head as he combusts into red hot flames once more. “still so bitter over a man who can’t love you like i do, huh?” keigo says your name, low and raspy, and you can’t remember the last time he’d uttered those syllables. it frightens you, after all you are a mortal in the grip of a man who takes lives for a living, but you’d never let him know that. “that’s almost pathetic.”
that hurts to hear, like a knife twisting in your fragile human gut… and so, kicking your feet, still high above the ground and suspended in the large god’s grip— you throw yourself about and claw at his temperate hand cupping your face harshly. “you do not love me, you wouldn’t know what that meant even if it kicked you in the face!” you yell, biting down on keigo’s hands in a futile attempt. “you’re just obsessed with me and would much rather me be a soulless corpse to keep you better company!” 
“you better watch your tone with me, little bird—“
“you’re vile. you’re disgusting— a fool if you think i could ever see the bright side of being stuck here with you,” you ramble in response, and foolishly so. “i hate you hades, i hate you. did you know that? i want to repeat it for you. i hate yo—“ 
your words are never finished, for a resounding strike echoes throughout the cave like atmosphere on the underworld and you already feel the invisible bruising form under your skin, falling to the floor to cup your wound.
no matter how many times you had tested the god of death, he had never hit you like this before.
and you’ve never looked into his golden irises , never seen them so clearly or seen his pupils like black slits— leaving the amber colour to take over, reminding you of the surface sun. hawks looks almost predatory, hungry red flames for wings willing to swallow and burn everything in their path, including you. 
“repeat yourself. what did you say?” keigo commands easily.
you gulp. “t-that i…”
“that you, what?” your name again, and you tremble. 
“that i hate you,” you breathe. “i hate you.” 
he seems to snap at this. 
hawks smiles, teeth as sharp as razors set on display. “another five years into your sentence, pretty.” with a snap of his talon clawed fingers, the god has fragments of grey smog binding your wrist together, slipping over your nose and mouth to shut you the hell up. “‘m disappointed, yanno. i do care so much for you, i’m so attentive… but this has happened far too long to go unnoticed, little bird.” 
the world around you rushes with air as you’re hauls into the god’s thick arms, you kick and scream muffled through the smoke in your mouth— watching as keigo conjures up a throne made of thorns, pain and bones, taking a comfortable seat into it despite the lost loved ones it might be made up of. “here we go again, darling.” the blonde sighs, not caring if you batter his back on the way down to taking his seat— dragging you into position to sit over the swell of his right thigh. “s’always the same old shit with you. so naughty.” keigo peers up at you through eyes like a bird of prey…watching, knowing the exact effect he has on you. 
hyper aware of how much control he has over you, right down to your soul. 
you squirm away and keigo let’s go of the smoke, letting you tilt your head back but still rooted in the god’s lap. “i hate you.” breathing deep, you try to ignore your body flushing with heat and the urge to buck down against keigo’s surprisingly muscular thigh. 
“behave yourself. sit still,” hades coos, his touch cascades up your body, slipping under your bodice and sending warmth down each of the neurons like a flickering flame until he reaches the swell of your breasts— thumbing over your pebbled nipples in an attempt to pull a whine from between your resistant lips. it’s so cute to watch you try and fail, pretend like your hips aren’t aching to slide back and forth, drag your clit back and forth…back and forth over the man like a desperate bitch in heat, like you don’t want to put your hands in the brightness of his fire and watch yourself burn with lust. you’re no good at acting, pretending you wouldn’t slut yourself out for him, the one who owns you for all of eternity. 
with a click of his fingers, all the power in the world between them pulls up the skirts of your robes, like wisps of a web until the fabric sits at your hips. “h-hate you… s’much,” you repeat though the venom to your voice is lost, shaky and falling into a pathetic moan instead as the god traces the fat at your hips, searing fingers sliding down to your fleshy ass before peeling you away from his thigh— amused at the stickiness that ties you to him. “f-fuck.” 
“yeah sweetheart? you hate me this much?” the amusement is evident in his voice too, a slender digit sliding out from the curve of your ass to touch at your oozing wetness. “oh…i don’t know, doesn’t seem like you don’t like me. you can’t spend forever hatin’ me either; not when i get you like this.” the finger spreads apart your swelling folds, and hawks shifts until his knee is able to bump your clit. “lover boy ever make ya this wet?” you despise the way the god talks down on you, as if you’re just a slave to his cock and thighs and whatever he can give you…dopamine and lust hormones flooding your cute little mortal brain and making you pliant for him. 
the beginnings of your arousal seeps warmly through the robes laying wrinkled against the fiery blonde’s thigh, sweet folds leaving a stain that betrays you in every way possible. touya could never… not like this, you’re soaked and you’ve barely been touched. only just, by feather light grazes against the supple fat at your waist. it’s the taunting pillowy cushion to hawks’ words too, they’re what’s gotten you so worked up— not too mean or too harsh, just enough to make you feel like you’re beneath him. 
with your nails digging to hades’ arm, you cry out his name at a volume barely above a whisper— bottom lip wobbling and face crumbling just like your resolve because it hurts so good not to use him to get off, the shame only adding fuel to the fire in your lower belly. “s-shut up,” you struggle to get out, to mean what you say as your needy hole clenches against the blistering skin of a god. “you don’t make me feel shit…y-you could never be h-him—oh,” keigo flexes his thigh beneath your unloyal pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips in hunger as your words taper off into a sinful little sigh at your pretty eyes roll back into your skull. “oh…oh fuck you.” 
“watch your mouth.” hades all but snarls, a cruel smirk beginning its horizon on his slightly chapped lips now that you’re finally playing his game, your hips falling into their own rhythm over his thigh—speeding up in their straddled dance over him. again, his hands explore all what your body has to offer and this time you let him, throwing your head back when hawks rips the fabric of your skirt to get a better view of your naked rosy cunt and how beads of glistening arousal pearl between perfect pussy lips. “don’t need to be your shitty little human to make you feel good, sweetheart. i know i’m better than him,” he makes a sick point of reminding you so, leaning back into his throne with a hazy look settling into the embers of his golden eyes, those of which are trained on the way your folds encapsulate his thigh as you get yourself off on him. “i’m your god, you’ll only ever feel the pinnacle of pleasure with me.”
you loath that this much is true, of all the times hawks has punished you for resenting him— talking back and being ungrateful, you’ve never cum as hard with anyone else as much as you have with him. when his flaming hands swallow your thighs, burn their hand prints into them until you can smell the scent of singeing flesh tangled with death, decay and your saccharine pussy you feel like you’re dying. you must be, with the waves of euphoria you’re drowning in, your lungs ache from the near screams of delight that rattle around in your throat with every grind against hawks— especially when he begins to bounce his thighs against your cunt that blossoms for him like a flower from the lands up above.
“you’re awful…” you say, teary eyed despite humping at keigo’s twitching thigh faster and faster with ragged breaths— giving him a front row seat to you losing your mind, to your slit drooling so delicately against him despite how roughly your body moves. his clawed hand reaches the back of your bodice, tearing it into two as if it were nothing and letting the fabric fall away from your bouncing chest.
his mouth is on your breasts within an instant, the heated pink tongue of the god rolling over your darkened areolas and rock hard nipples, standing on end from the cool death chilled air, before the sharpened edge of his teeth sink into your soft mounds. “only just now realising that, honey? when i’m literally the king of death?” hawks let’s go of you with a slick pop, his cheeks flushed red and lips in a state to match— cock and thigh twitching at the little simper you let out from the painful sting of his teeth biting at your skin. your state is no better than his, brows creased adorably in the centre of your forehead, mouth open in a raw ‘o’ shape and your eyes screwed shut while your skin shines with perspiration. a diamond in the rough. 
“fuck, you look so fucking good,” the god of the underworld curses, glowing yellow eyes torn between watching your face contort in lechery and your mound, gliding smoothly over his paled yet golden skin— leaving a trail of slick in her wake. “oh fucking hell,” he beefs, from deep within his chest licentiously, the words caught in his throat when you start to bounce up and down in the god’s lap by your own accord. “that’s right, ride it. ride my thigh like you fucking hate me.” he leers, goading you into lifting your hips and slamming your clit back down on his shaky thigh, eyes a dark and molten gold rolling back at the sight. 
you don’t have the energy to curse him out again, whimpering and mewling like a fallen angel as you reach out to grab keigo’s shoulder in order to steady yourself. your body is wracked with the shakes and trembles even as your nails dig into his shoulder blades, one hand on his hip, using him as leverage to ride him, throwing yourself down on him as the lewd pap of your sticky pussy fills the sex and death tainted air. hawks’ mouth is back on you, biting and marking your neck, licking a nasty trail from your collarbones and back to the swell of your breasts to suckle on them— only serving to make your cunt fish every time it’s lifted from his thigh, ruining his dark robes with slick and making his wings burn brighter like the ball of lust growing between you.
hawks plants his feet firmly on the floor, his hands smoothing over your ass so he can roughly pull your cheeks apart, slamming you back down on his quivering leg every time it juts up to meet your pretty, syrupy cunt. you squeak, the hood of your clit pulled back, blood rushing right too it carrying sex crazed hormones that make your whole body tingle. “oh, just look at your fucking pussy. so, wet. so nasty.” he laughs like the sight of you staining his leg, humping it like a bitch is ludicrous. “you sure you hate me?” you do, gods you fucking do but you can barely talk with the delight pain that sparks at your ass cheeks as keigo marks them with burns again. branding you with the hades name— making you property of the underworld. 
“how can you hate me when you belong to me?” he bleats sweet and soft despite how rough hades is with you, scattering your pretty body with scalding burn marks. “when i make you feel so good that you can’t even remember your own pathetic little mortal name?” he says it then, when he’s growling and smacking a blazing hand down against your bruising ass, making you cry out and howl and drag your nails down his skin. keigo did you a favour, saving your weak and loving soul above all else after your lover had cast you aside— he protected you, nurtured you and all you could do was look at him like he ruined the world for you. so in turn, every time you would act up like this, keigo would fuck you until you were literally an inch from losing your life, reminding you that you bound to him for all of eternity, no matter what you did. 
“you’re mine. remember?” he coos to you when your head starts to loll and you’re hiccuping so hard you can’t even think to breathe right. “my little queen of the underworld.” 
slumping forward, you don’t slow the roll of your hips, the gentle glide of your slippery cunt along hades’ blazing thigh and instead you shake your head, weakly, miserably to the point where he just finds your denial cute. “‘m not…i-i,” you gargle, words incoherent against the molten core of keigo’s chest. “i fucking hate you—uhuh, yeah…i do.” you moan.
like most humans, you’re fucking pitiful but your voice adorned with lust is enticing to a god who hears nothing but deathly wails all day. “keep tellin’ yourself that; baby but look at how you fall apart on my lap. uhuh…yeah?” keigo flashes you his pearly whites through his condescending smirk and tone, using you so bristfully that every time he pushes you back and forth over his thigh you go as far back as to grind your puffy clit against his knee. “that felt good, huh? yeah i know…you’re all mine.” 
you fucking hate him, and that voice of his and how he plays you for a fucking fool. 
you hate how his possession over you makes you needy, makes you melt and how you eagerly nod your head, sore and bruised by flames all over as you push it into keigo’s neck— the knot in your tummy nice and tight, so good that it hurts. “‘m close… don’t stop. please, o-oh fuck!” you cry, coated in your own essence as it splatters every time you slam your pretty pussy down on hawks, clenching around nothing, your sweet words soothing the ache in his rigid dick. “j-just like that. f-fuck! keigo!” 
the way you drawl out the syllables of his name makes a primal urge stir in the god— he circles your hips on him, let’s his calloused finger tips burn their mark against your hips and your thighs and your ass, knowing that the torment gets you off, makes your creamy cunt wetter. “you gonna cum for me? make a mess in my lap? paint your god with your pretty juices?” he teases, short for breath leaning up with a fond smile until your lips are just barely apart. he wonders how you’ll look when you cum this time; if your sweaty swollen lips with hungrily accept his, if you’ll cry with your eyes closed or look him in his own— your sparkling bambi eyes swirling with hatred and dread like they always do. “c’mon…come on. give it to me, sweetheart, lemme feel you come undone.” 
hot fingers, the ones that branded you push into your clit— pinching it as hades writes his signature against your throbbing pussy, moaning with you when you jolt. “yeah, you like that?” he growls, voice hoarse and your body betrays you once more, head nodding into his neck. “mhm, you’re gonna cum like this for me aren’t you? you’re gonna fucking cum for the god you hate. that’s it…oh gods, that’s fuckin’ it, doll.” 
“i-i’m! oh gods, keigo—!” you squeal as the knot of lust within you unravels all at once, your core gushing with release as hades makes you dive head first into a blinding orgasm. you violently shake and your thighs lock around his hand that works you through your high and releases the pressure in your pussy, sweet streams of clear arousal soaking his lap and dripping down your thighs. hawks can’t bring himself to stop, doesn’t know where to look as he draws tighter circles on your little nub, drawing out your orgasm for his own amusement, addicted to how your skin shines with your release. “s-stop! please… s’too much!” you squeak.
the world spins harder on its axis and you barely have time to register hawks flipping your positions, folding you with your back to the throne and legs thrown over the bend of his burly arms. he can’t wait any fucking longer, feeling as if his cock might explode without being inside of you, watching you cum like that having sent him into a throbbing frenzy. you haven’t even calmed down yet, still limp from your orgasm when keigo pushes his length through your seeping, glistening folds, red cockhead catching on the hood of your clit in desperation, poking at your fluttering hole, ready to fuck into you while he lets his dick slap along the length of you. 
“j-just because you’ve made me cum…doesn’t mean i like you, nor trust you.” you pant in denial, trying and failing to open your pretty eyes to the underworld. “it doesn’t mean anything.” 
but keigo, he’s too far gone to care at this point. he could care less if you hate him, if you adore him, worship him or fear him. the only thing on his mind right now is sinking his yearning, pulsating shaft into your slick, slit while you’re still coming down from heaven and back to him in the world below. “don’t give a fuck,” he says, a hankering feeling to fuck you now clouding his mind. “i don’t need your trust little bird, i already know your body fucking loves me.” 
he won’t last long and neither will you, you’re already only just hanging on by a thread. “i-i don’t,” you slur, spit on the pad of tongue feeling heavy, you still haven’t recovered from your orgasm, squeezing down on every inch that keigo pushes into you— even though you’re wet beyond belief, your pink little hole can’t help but resist him, as if your body is finally denying him after everything he put you through on his thigh. “n-no…no no!” you cry out, a mess of dry lips and crystal tears, lifting your ass from the seat of the throne to try and coax hawks back into you. “please…need it, y-your cock…p-please!”
“see look, you’re being so nice now… is that all it takes? play with your precious pussy a little bit and you stop pretending to hate me?” keigo laughs huskily, dragging a thumb over his seedy tip as his fat length sits on your tummy— before shoving the soiled digit against your clit, pressing it into your pleasure nub so loosen you up a bit to take him. “this pussy doesn’t hate me, does she? oh no…she belongs to me.” 
you shudder at his words despite the heat of his flames, and you’re not even given a second to respond or prepare before his ribbed and red hot cock is shoved into your unused hole, his practised hands lifting you higher from the throne to accommodate for all of his size. “oh…oh god, k-keigo,” you coo like a little angel, your gaze losing its focus while the king of death folds you in half against his royal seat, the forked and purpling veins decorating his shaft pressing up against new pulse points, pinging them with ecstasy the further he presses into you. 
hawks bends over your shaky frame, golden and carved abs pressed against the backs of your thighs, the god smothering you with his body once he reaches the hilt, your knees digging blissfully into your shoulders, his cock already nestled against your g-spot from the pure size of him and you feel so full, like keigo is everywhere around you, a pleasant pain thrumming as your squishy insides stretch over his cold. he’s in your guts, your senses, your heart though it’s blackened with hatred for him. 
you’re dizzy and your eyes droop, mind void of thought and you don’t have the effort to hate him anymore— not when he makes you feel like this. “nuh-uh, wake up sweetheart, want you to look at me as i fuck ya, kay?” keigo whispers to you sweetly, his blazen hand smacking down on your face, pulling the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard from between your lips. “that’s it, wake up f’me. listen to this cunt call my name,” he laments tapping your cheek once more and grins at the branded hand print before golden eyes lock themselves  away— taking away your sunshine from up above. you listen intently, the lewd squelch of your insides bouncing of stacks of bones and towers of skeletons, at a volume much higher than the cries of the undead. “my messy messy girl, so messy you might as well admit that you’re in love with me.” 
while that couldn’t have been further from the truth, you submit to the god who makes you a slave to his cock— slowly withdrawing from your snug walls, pulling out of your sticky selfish cunt. “ain’t it damned shame that lover boy took you for granted?” he growls with a voice tinged with possession. “such a shame that you’re sentenced to slutting yourself out on this cock for the rest of your days…oh fuck, you’re tight.” hips surging forwards, hawks sets a steady pace to rocking his dick into you, blunt cockhead pushing and pulling against sensitive spots that makes you see the stars in the night sky again. and maybe you do consider yourself lucky, without touya fucking you over, you wouldn’t be prisoner to the best dick you’ve ever had. 
you hate him, but hades is so, so good—teeth and tongue latching back onto your bouncing breasts as the heat from his flames spreads through you like a wildfire in a forest and the only thing capable putting it out is his precum sloshing in creamy, loose white against your gummy, syrupy walls. “m-my fucking god!” you manage through stuttered breathes, keening into the swipes of keigo’s tongue across your breasts that he’s burned, as if his saliva will soothe you. he ploughs into you at a god speed pace, skin slapping on skin as his balls slam into the curve of your ass and harmonise with your high pitched wails. 
“that’s right, baby.” he sounds so elated, moaning happily around your swollen nipples, moving to pant happily into your ear, pressing further and further into you until keigo is hardly pulling away from bullying your g-spot, your juices splashing about the places, running down the length of your slit and your ass to pool underneath you on the marble throne. “i’m yours and you’re fuckin’ mine, for the rest of forever…don’t, ah shit, care what you say. hate me all y’fuckin’ want.” 
hawks fucks you like he hates your guts, looking over you, throwing your legs over his shoulder and using his weight to canter into your abused cunt, rocking his throne with a dull thump to each of thrusts. he frees you from the grip that leaves burn marks across your body, to briefly run his hand through sweaty blonde locks, both of you are slick with perspiration, breathing ragged and you’re definitely too fucked out to even see at this point. the sun is keigo; despite the dreary underworld you live in, and the tears blur your vision too much for you to tell this isn’t the land of the living. 
“‘m g’na cum,” you tell hades eagerly, feeling like you’re alive the more he fills you up— sexes slotted together like a match made in heaven when you really feel like he’s your own personal hell. “gonna cum so fucking hard.” the pleasure is suffocating, deathly, but you don’t care, crying from every hole possible, locking down on keigo’s ravaging dick when he slaps your entrance to keep you awake— you jolt, sore from every joint and whine out pathetically. 
“can feel you cummin’ on me again, better give it all t’me little bird— want your fuckin’ mind, your body, your soul.” he sinks his teeth into the junction at your neck one last time, adding another delightfully painful mark to the rest that litter your body. he does it all to numb your pain of touya leaving you, fills you up with love which you mistake for hate because how can a merciless god who takes lives for fun be capable of loving you. it’s not long before your body does as he says, following keigo’s lead, tumbling down the highway to hell as the bright light of his flames flashes before your very eyes, your release staining his abdomen where it’s smooshed up against your clit.
“oh shit, fuck that’s it,” he’s right behind you too, abs rippling while the mighty god of death trembles above you and pours thick white from his angry red tip straight into your bruised womb, lewd clapping noises filling the air as he rocks into you through the last of your highs. keigo makes a pretty mess of you; creaming your insides as his last mark of possession over you. “my pretty little bird, mine eternally.” 
he hopes you’ll forget touya, that you’ll forgive him just this once— stop hating him for once. 
but with your foreheads pressed together, bodies limp and uncomfortable against the throne hawks— hades, has conjured up you quickly come to your senses with closed eyes and lost breath. 
“i hate you, hades.” you grunt, shame burning at you now instead of him, instead of lust. “get off me.” 
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