#I��m very sorry that your friend has decided you need pronouns.

[kiwi-bitchez]

The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 

Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 

“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!���

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot. 

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.

[silencesscreams]

i can see you

james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)

summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift

warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation

for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.

you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.

“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.

“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.

“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.

as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.

“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.

“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”

“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.

“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.

“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”

it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?

“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.

“she��s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.

“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.

james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.

-

your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.

the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.

you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.

you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.

and then there was james.

james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.

when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.

sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?

as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.

-

you felt like you could kill him.

after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.

but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.

you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.

"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.

"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.

“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“

“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.

“i told you, they were really good.”

if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turned red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.

you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.

he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.

he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.

he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pajamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.

he shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.

the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.

maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.

“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.

“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.

“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.

“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.

“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”

“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.

“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”

“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”

“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”

“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.

you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.

-

as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.

you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.

on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.

when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.

you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-

giggles.

there were giggles coming from your room.

and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.

you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.

“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”

“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.

you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.

“thank you, have a nice night”

you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.

you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.

“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“

“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.

“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.

“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”

“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?

“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?

“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?

“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“

“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.

you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.

“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.

it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.

“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.

“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.

you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.

his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.

you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?

once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.

maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.

he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.

you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.

you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.

“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.

“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something on your phone.

you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.

you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.

“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“

“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.

“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.

fuck.

you were going to share the damn blanket.

he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.

was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.

you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.

you could have died right there.

he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.

‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.

you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.

you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.

the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.

you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how he could be so sweet, funny and nice.

after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.

he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.

you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.

you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.

everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want to read it at the moment.

“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.

“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.

“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.

“yeah” remus answered, smiling.

“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sitting next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.

“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”

they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.

once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.

they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.

“can i stay with you for the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.

“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the arm of ouch.

“yeah?” the guy answered.

“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.

“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?

“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.

“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.

“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.

“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.

“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.

“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.

“really? what does he say?”

“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.

“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”

“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.

“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.

“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.

for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.

he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.

did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?

goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.

it made you feel crazy, it really did.

you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.

the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-

you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.

‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’

you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.

you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.

“y/n?” he was looking at you now.

fuck.

“yeah?”

“you look really good tonight.”

“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.

“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?

“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.

“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.

he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.

the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.

you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.

kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.

he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.

“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.

he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.

he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.

when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.

“james…” you let out as he bit you again.

“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.

“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.

“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.

“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.

he was big.

you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).

he was on his knees, towering over you.

“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.

“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, especially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.

he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.

he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.

“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.

“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.

“take it off”

“what?” you’re confused.

“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.

“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?

“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.

you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.

“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.

“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.

“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.

“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.

“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.

“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.

“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.

“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.

“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”

“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.

“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.

“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.

“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.

“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.

“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.

he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.

“jaaames” you would whine

“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.

if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.

“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.

“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.

you were in ecstasy.

“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.

“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.

“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.

“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.

“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.

your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.

as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.

“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.

his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.

he made sure he got rid of every single drop.

your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.

“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.

“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.

“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.

“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.

“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.

[my-dark-lord]

Hi! I wanted to ask, is there a way to read more about your ocs in hellaverse? I just kinda like other people ocs very much lol

Hey! I'm so sorry this is running so late, Nonny, I meant to reply sooner than this but I tend to get distracted super easily. I've got the ADHD pretty bad and in my past life I was the goldfish that made scientists think they all had five second memories.

At any rate, I have quite a few Hellaverse OCs! A lot of fankids and then quite a few surrounding Ozzie or Valentino. I've been working more with the ones that deal with Val, lately, which are mostly Darío, Ostello, and Anya!

The main OCs I have are Ostello, Anya, Darío, Ozzie's Parents (Abstemiounessa and Valore), Archangel Uriel, Leviathan, Magpie, Vick, and then a few others that I don't do much with. I also have fankids but that may be for another time.

I literally just reworked Ostello's bio and took it from 364 words to 1,101 words and updated a lot of information that had become wrong as I wrote him. Anya recently got upgraded from OC that I didn't really do anything with to OC that I'm using a lot more.

They're all on my RP blog, @e-m-p-error, though a lot of them need a little reworking. For now, I can share Ostello and Anya's info here! I've been working on them most recently. Ostello is Valentino's ex-husband and Anya is his Personal Assistant!

It's under a cut for length. Ostello's info is LONG. All art by me.

Anya

Human Name: Anya Kazlow

Name In Hell: Anya

Nicknames: Annie Baby, Yaya

Faceclaim: My/Friend’s Art

Original Universe: Mainverse

Age: 30 (When He Died); 37 Years Dead

Birthday: April 30th, 1956 (Taurus)

Deathday: December 5th, 1986

Height: 6'8"

Gender: Cis Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual Bimantic, Ambigamous

Species: Gorgon Sinner

Snake Color: Red and White

Eye Color: Pale red sclera, bright green irises

Occupation: Valentino’s Personal Assistant

Headcanon Masterlist

When Anya was alive, she worked in a veterinarian’s office that saw a lot of exotic pets owned by bad people. There were all kinds of things that she had to overlook in her line of work, including humans that had bullet wounds or other such injuries. She doubled as a nurse when she had to, and learned how to take care of human and animal injuries alike. Always having been nurturing and gentle, she was well-loved by the Russian mafia in her town in Belarus and ended up getting married to a lower-ranking member after tending to him for one summer.

She was shot on their wedding day when a rival cell infiltrated the wedding and killed as many of the people there as they could. She died holding her lover’s hand, and vowing revenge. This never came to fruition.

Meeting Valentino not long after she fell, Anya was hired on to be his PA after she ended up gentling him through an injury that he obtained in a turf war. She happened to be there at the time, and he decided having a medically minded personal assistant would be a good idea. She sold her soul to him, and being an important member of his team, she was given the golden tooth that Angel Dust and Val both had. She is in love with Valentino, but he only sees her as a friend. She’s mostly okay with this because it’s worth it just to be near him. It is her job to handle most things that Vox doesn’t handle for him. This can be anything from cast lists to work schedules to bartending if he needs someone to cover a shift. If Val needs it done, she’ll do it.

Her snakes are Frog Eating Rat Snakes, and because of this, they have bacteria in their mouths. If she bites you, it is an immediate, violent, and disgusting case of leprosy that can kill in minutes. She has only ever bitten three people, and she usually doesn’t, but she will absolutely do it if it is necessary.

Anya is very nosy and always likes to be up on the latest gossip and whatever juicy things are going on around Val. She will pry into his business while she takes care of him while he’s drunk so she is abreast of the latest drama.

Ostello 

Human Name: Oscar Lawrence

Name In Hell: Ostello

Nicknames: Tello, Baby (Valentino Exclusive), Broadway (@strangeandun-muse-ual’s Vox Exclusive)

Faceclaim: My Art/Al Pacino

Original Universe: Mainverse

Birthday: January 21st, 1899

Human Deathday: May 3rd, 1944

Demon Deathday: February 9th, 1980 (Assassinated by Val with a Holy spear)

Age: 45 (When He Died As A Human); 36 Years Dead (When Killed By Val); 80 Years Dead (In Heaven)

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Homosexual Homoromantic Ambigamous

Species: Badger Sinner

Height: 6'8"

Relation: Valentino’s Ex-Husband (Widowed)

Occupation: Overlord, Pop-Jazz Singer, Arms Dealer

Headcanon Masterlist

When he was alive, his name was Oscar Lawrence. Oscar was the son of Ruth and Samuel Lawrence, their only child. Marty was his father’s best friend, his right-hand man in the fire department, and his wife’s affair partner. Oscar knew about the affair for approximately a year before his father died on Christmas day when he was ten years old. A year after his father’s death, Marty was his stepfather, and while he never held any express animosity toward him, he never called Marty his father. His mother and Marty had two kids together who were twelve and fourteen years younger than he was, and he was never particularly close to his half-siblings.

At seventeen, he had dropped out of school and gone to work in a club in Omaha. He was discovered singing one of the numbers from a nightly show while cleaning by his boss, who loved his sound and gave him his own attempt at playing a show one Saturday night. For starters, he did a few covers of things that he had heard and ended the night on a song he’d written himself. His lyrics were filled with a longing he became known for, a desire for something he could never have. It became something that was so Oscar Lawrence to long, to pine so genuinely and openly that it was impossible to separate from him. So much of his music was about barely scraping his fingertips against the thing he longed for, and nobody could ever quite get out of him what it was.

When he was twenty, he met Olivia, his wife-to-be. She fell for him, hard and fast, and he never felt much. But it was a suspicious thing for a man his age not to have a wife, and he liked Olivia enough to live with her. Oscar was rarely home, out touring and recording a lot, but at twenty-one their daughter, Gertrude “Gertie” Rose Lawrence was born. He rarely saw her, and when he was home, he was usually sad and drunk. Gertie doesn’t remember much of her dad, but his biggest sin with her was neglect. He never rose his hand against her or her mother, and he was never particularly cruel.

However, he did cheat on his wife. Often while he was on tour, he could sleep with any woman that wanted him in ways he found impossible to do with his wife at home. Like many singers of his time, he also had a stage presence on the silver screen. Much like he found many temporary replacements for his wife, he found a semi-permanent replacement for his daughter as a mentor to Shirley Temple.

If there was something as Oscar Lawrence as pure, unadulterated longing, it was a desire to run from what he did have with that same desperation.

His biggest sin in life was that he was gay in a time when that was very highly frowned upon, and it was a well-kept secret. Nobody knew about it, and he never once acted on it while he was alive.

When he died in 1944, it was a slow, painful, and disorienting death alone in a hospital half a country away from his family. His wife and daughter flew out to see him just in time to say goodbye, and he couldn’t recall who they were. He died of acute liver failure that had progressed under the radar of his manager who had been busy working him through the holidays.

Olivia sued the company for negligence that led to her husband’s death, and she and Gertie continued to never want for anything but the man whom they owed their cushy lives to. Neither could say they knew him before he died, and after they would know him even less.

Oscar sort of expected to fall into Hell, and when he did, he was unsurprised. For a few months, he just tooled around, feeling out his new abilities and appearance as a badger. He discovered early on that he had pyrokinesis and it was something of a novelty for a while.

One night while walking the streets and experimenting with it in the lonely hours of the morning, he gave a fireball too much juice and shot an Overlord on her way back from a big deal. He didn’t expect it, and it led to a huge fight between the two of them in which Ostello accidentally became the victor. It was a hard fight and when her gun was knocked from her hands, he managed to grab it in the ensuing wrestling for it. Unbeknownst to him, it was loaded with holy bullets, and ended in her demise.

Her attendants, who had scattered during the fight, came to him to tell him that he was now in charge of her territory as long as nobody else took it, and he took the responsibility fairly seriously. This didn’t stop him from pursuing a musical career on top of the weapons dealing, of course, but it was somethingi that he did want to do to the best of his ability.

Ostello, as he eventually renamed himself, became a rather beloved fixture of the Pentagram. He was hard to upset and treated his workers with dignity and respect. They were paid well, especially those who gathered holy metals during the Extermination, and he never went so far as to treat any of them cruelly.

He worked with Alastor to produce radio shows and sang live several times for him. When Vox eventually came around, Ostello left Alastor’s employ to work under a label that Vox owned. He performed for him there, with concerts and other such things, until the day he was killed. His music is still fairly popular and played in several Voxtech buildings.

In 1972, he met Valentino, and in two months married the moth. He was a devoted husband who wanted nothing more than to make his wife happy, and he spent the next eight years absolutely enamored by him. However, Valentino had never really been in love with him, and in 1980 used a holy spearhead pilfered from Ostello’s own armory to kill him.

Due to his love for Valentino driving him to be a much, much happier and better person, when he died he was reincarnated in Heaven. He dislikes Heaven very much because he misses Valentino and was reunited with Olivia. He does not know that Gertie is in Hell. He has been watching Valentino in Hell for years and is abreast with the latest things going on in his life at all times.

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt 2

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: You follow through with Wooyoung’s suggestion, but it looks like things aren’t ending there.

wc: 7.4k

ch. warnings: hard dom San, bratty sub Wooyoung, voyeur reader, consensual voyeurism/exhibitionism, kink negotiation, m x m, anal sex, rough sex, spanking, masturbation, dirty talk, blowjob, handjob, dumbification & degradation (@ Wooyoung), a hint of dacryphilia, praise kink (@ reader), safeword colour check (it’s green), aftercare

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns

(also the first 2k of this chapter is basically kink negotation i got carried away i’m so sorry lol)

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

“Hey. Sorry, it’s just me today,” San says, opening the door to let you inside. “Wooyoung got called into an extra shift at work.”

It’s just a mere few days after the memorable incident that capsized your entire relationship with your friendly neighbour Choi San, and here you are again, walking into his apartment.

He is still your friendly neighbour Choi San, of course, but now he is also the Choi San that you accidentally walked into while he was fucking his boyfriend — and he will soon become the Choi San who fucks his boyfriend in front of you with full consent from all parties involved.

And right now? Right now he is the Choi San who invited you over for a friendly chat about establishing ground rules.

This is totally fine. You are totally fine.

Somehow, some absurd chain of events has led you to this point, and you can’t quite work out how it happened. You are inclined to blame Byeol for it all, though you’re not sure yet how. It’s her fault for needing to eat, or something like that. If she could just go a week without food, you never would’ve been in San’s apartment that day.

Yeah. This is all on Byeol. Rock-solid logic right there.

“No Wooyoung? Oh, no sure, that’s fine,” you tell San, like it does not take a godlike amount of strength to meet his eyes directly. Like your brain doesn’t conjure up the memory of him sucking and biting at Wooyoung’s neck every time you see him. “Or should we do this some other time, when he can be here, too?”

While you are struggling to keep a tight hold on your one last thread of self-composure, San seems remarkably well-adjusted, especially considering how flustered he had been that day. Now that the initial shock has passed, his mannerisms are relaxed and easy — but you?

Your unexpected surge of Wooyoung-induced boldness had run out of juice approximately two seconds after leaving San’s apartment, and you’d only grown more antsy since then. Your days were spent second-guessing the whole thing and fighting back the urge to look up new apartment listings.

(You can’t decide if San’s ability to stay calm and composed is ridiculously unfair, or if it is for the best. At least one of you has their shit together.)

San looks casual and homey today, dark hair still wet from a shower. He’s wearing comfy socks with grey sweats and a simple black shirt that should, in theory, be oversized; but the fabric clings onto San’s broad chest in a way that is very distracting, his collarbones exposed by the wide neckline.

(That shirt is definitely unfair. Does San have no compassion for your poor nerves??)

“Wooyoung gave me the okay to go ahead without him,” San says, gesturing an invitation for you to step into the living room. “I know what he wants out of this, what his limits are. Is that alright with you?”

You hesitate for a moment — but honestly? If you already struggle this much to keep yourself from bolting out the door with just San in the room, you can’t trust how well you’ll cope with Wooyoung here too. It might take a few extra days to gather the mental strength required so you can face the memories that he conjures in your head. Like when his— (NOPE. Stop! Stop that right now, brain!! Cease and desist!)

“Yeah, if Wooyoung’s okay with it, then I’m okay with,” you say, smiling back at San. Nailed it; you are being so normal about this. “Let’s talk.”

And so you do.

San sits you down on the couch where he joins you, a literal arm’s length away to give you some personal space. He also hands you a mug with a hot drink — your favourite, and you feel a flattered burst of happiness that he remembered from some random smalltalk ages ago.

You weren’t sure what to expect out of this conversation — or actually, you had not expected a conversation at all.

It seemed simpler to just… dive in, as it were. They fuck, you watch; high fives all around afterwards. Probably the most awkward fives that were ever highed but still; pretty straightforward, right?

But San insisted on laying out some ground rules beforehand, and as the conversation unfolds, you understand why.

It’s not that San overwhelms you with a multi-page kink inventory (“Maybe for some other time,” he jokes), nor does he take all the spontaneity out of it with a five-step business plan, laying out what will happen to the smallest details. He just… answers some of your questions, asks some questions of you, forcing you to actually solidify your thoughts about what your boundaries are — even as ‘just’ a spectator.

No, you don’t mind if they get a bit rough. What does ‘a bit rough’ look like to you? Oh, that’s a good question, actually. No, no you’re down for that. Umm, oh that’s quite… Yeah, of course they can talk to you during the scene; you’d feel weirder if they ignore you completely.

You’re no longer surprised that San is so calm today; he is obviously in his element, experienced in this type of kink negotiation. He does let out the occasional self-conscious chuckle — but that only makes him more endearing, his warm nature blanketing the strange formality of hashing out these limits.

Somehow, he strikes a sweet spot between keeping the dialogue casual enough that you don’t feel pressured, but thoughtful enough that you know he is taking you, and this whole thing altogether, seriously.

It helps to put you at ease; San knows what he’s doing, makes you feel like you are in safe hands. He explains how exactly he and Wooyoung use the traffic light system for safe-words, and he is quick to take anything off the table that you waver on, never pressing your boundaries.

Gradually, you find an inner calm in the reminder that you want this to happen, while San’s lack of judgement is a soothing assurance that it’s okay to want this to happen. Every person involved has given their enthusiastic consent — you may have stumbled into San and Wooyoung the first time, but this is different.

This time, you are making the conscious decision to step through the door, knowing what will be on the other side; and you can turn around any time you want to. You just don’t want to.

“Hey, thank you by the way,” San says at one point, “for being so open about this. Makes it a lot easier for me.”

“It does?”

He nods, his eyes curving. “Less stressful when I know what everyone’s expectations are. I don’t mind improvising, but it’s comfortable to have a baseline to work off, you know.”

Huh. You hadn’t thought about it from San’s perspective, but yeah, that makes sense. You tell him this, and thank him for making it easy on you, too. San’s eyes shine as he lets out a small, breathy laugh, like he is the one endeared by you right now.

“What about touching? Did we cover that yet? Maybe it goes without saying, but just to say it anyway,” he continues smoothly. “Off the table, right? Keeps things simpler. We don’t touch you, you don’t touch us. …We’re alright with you touching yourself, though, if you want to.”

San adds the last part so casually that it takes a beat for the suggestion to sink in — but then your breath catches at the thought, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth. For weeks you had held back from touching yourself to their muffled noises, and now they themselves are giving you permission to do so right in front of them? Oof.

“Oh? You hadn’t thought that far ahead, hm?” San says when he notes your dazed reaction, and the curve of his smile goes just slightly cocky. “Give it some thought, I’ll trust you to make up your mind on your own.”

“I think I already have,” you blurt out, resisting the unbidden urge to rub your thighs together.

San leans back, his grin showing a flash of teeth. “Good, I like that,” he says, and the simple confidence of his words does something to you. Something that makes you feel more than a little bummed that you’ll only be there as a spectator — but hey, at least that means you don’t have to bring up your IUD and clean bill of sexual health. “One last thing,” San goes on, “then I think we can wrap this up.”

You give him a curious look, encouraging him to continue.

“Wooyoung can get… mouthy,” San says, cautiously.

…

“No way,” you deadpan. “You’re joking.”

San gives you an exasperated look, one that you’ve caught him giving Wooyoung from time to time, but moves past your comment. “He likes to rile me up, likes it when I’m rough with him.”

This isn’t exactly news to you; where is San going with this? “So, uh, kind of like what was going on when I walked into you guys?”

It’s the first time that you’ve acknowledged what happened, and you can’t tell if saying the words out loud makes you die a little on the inside, or if it sets the most cringe-ridden part of you free. There is something strangely liberating about just speaking frankly; perhaps that is the secret behind Wooyoung’s bold audacity. Shame loses some of its power when you own up to things.

San does fluster a bit; apparently his miraculous recovery from the embarrassment of that day is not as complete as it seems, his endless composure not so endless after all. “Y-yea, no— It’s not… not always that mild,” he says, “the way I talk to him, that is.”

Mild?

You have vivid memories of how San had mocked Wooyoung for cumming untouched, the look on his face, the taunt in his voice. A stark contrast with the soft-hearted man sitting next to you now. So that was mild for them?

…Huh. Interesting.

San manages to recompose himself, while you mull over this new piece of information.

You feel curiosity, but also an instant discomfort that you can’t quite explain. The discomfort causes an immediate reflex to push it all down and ignore it, to pretend that you are fine with anything that San and Wooyoung want to do.

But San sees the hesitation in your face, and you know that you cannot hide your gut feelings from him. He will not let you. You try to relax, and remember that San has literally just thanked you for being open with him; this needs to be an honest conversation. Not only for your comfort, but for San’s.

“It’s not a judgement thing,” you immediately rush to reassure him. The last thing you want to do is imply that you’re kink-shaming him or Wooyoung. People like what they like, it’s got nothing to do with you. (Except this time it does have something to do with you, since you will be right there.) “I’m fine with anything like what I already heard, but hard name-calling or something like that… I’m not sure. It’s just—”

It’s just that San and Wooyoung have built a foundation, able to lean on their experiences and mutual trust when the harsher words come into play. They know that every degrading insult has the purpose to make the other feel good, even if it may seem counter-intuitive on a surface level. You are an outsider looking in — and you struggle to predict how you’ll respond to anything less ‘mild’; whether it will be just as exciting to you as it is to them, or only upsetting.

(Rationally you also know perfectly well that San would never say anything that Wooyoung isn’t on board with; but the connection between rationality and arousal is shaky at best.)

“No need to explain yourself,” San says, waving your concern away with his hand, “it’s all good. I’ll make sure it doesn’t go too far. There’s more than one way to deal with Wooyoung.” He adds a wink at the end, a cocky undertone in his words, but there’s still a hint of shyness burning at his ears. The dichotomy of it all is ridiculously endearing.

San walks you out the door, where he stops you for just a moment. “Sorry again for forgetting to text you,” he says. His smile is apologetic, but the sharp edge of embarrassment seems to have worn off of him too, the words calm. “I’m happy we’re doing this, Woo and I had been trying to think of a way to bring it up with you, I just— It would’ve been nice if we’d figured something out before… you know.”

You pat his arm, reassuring him that it’s all good between you. The catalyst to this turn of events had shaken you, but now? Now you feel steady in walking forward. Still a bit nervous, but (mostly) good nerves. Steady.

(Maybe you ought to buy Byeol some extra treats.)

“What would that conversation have even looked like?” you ask with a small chuckle. “‘Hey, want to watch us fuck?’ I mean, yeah, but that’s still pretty wild to ask your neighbour out of the blue.”

“And there we were, so worried about scaring you off,” San says, laughing.

“Well,” you say, puffing up your chest, “as you can see, I don’t scare easy.”

It’s just a line to poke fun at yourself and the whole situation, but San gives you another of his easy, confident grins, adorned by dimples. “No, you don’t. I like that too.”

You had worried that your discussion with San would take the excitement out of things, but those worries are unfounded. With the worst of your stress out of the way, anticipation has a chance to build up — and in a way, it’s kind of refreshing to have some idea of what to expect out of this, even if you won’t participate directly. No fumbling around blind to figure out what works for everyone, where the limits are. Just clarity.

Besides, it’s not like you have a play-by-play of what will happen. The only thing you know for sure is that you’re in for a memorable night.

Wooyoung confirms the latter as soon as he opens the door to greet you with a sly grin, biting his bottom lip.

“It’s good to see you again,” he says playfully, completely unbothered that he was buck naked the last time you saw him. Now he is wearing tight leather pants with a simple short-sleeved black shirt that shows off his arms — and again with the wide neckline! What is it with these damn men and their stupidly attractive collarbones!

Wooyoung notices how you check him out and preens immediately. He pushes his hair back with a suggestive wink, striking a little pose. “It’s a sexy look, right? Right?”

“Woo, don’t tease her,” San calls out from inside the apartment.

There is something about San’s voice that has you on alert, an edge of authority that you never heard from him before; but Wooyoung appears immune to it.

“I wasn’t teasing!” he calls back, rolling his eyes while he gestures you to come in. You note how his gaze lingers on the short skirt you’re wearing, but also that he does not touch you on the way to the bedroom; is he already taking the ground rules into account? You feel that slight pang of disappointment again; Wooyoung’s ass just looks so pinchable in those pants.

The lights are dimmed in the bedroom, and you step through the door with a mix of excitement and nerves — but they still are good nerves, only enhancing the excitement. San is already inside, waiting for you and Wooyoung.

This moment marks the first time you’ve ever seen Choi San shirtless.

You suck in a sharp breath, unable to help yourself.

You should not have been surprised; you’ve seen his arms on hot summer days where he hangs out in a sleeveless shirt, you know how wide those shoulders are just from seeing him in his regular clothes. And with the knowledge that San is one, a martial arts instructor and two, a certified gymrat to top it off; no, you should not have been surprised.

Not by the shadowed definition of his abs, not by the smooth expanse of his chest, tapered down to a slim hips where a faint treasure trail disappears into the waistband of his baggy, faded jeans. Add the tension in his jaw, his sharp narrowed eyes, the imposing posture; and San has undergone a total transformation, unrecognisable from the gentle guy next door.

You have always thought of the two men as gorgeous, but fuck. Whatever the you of a previous life has done to earn you this today, you send her a silent thanks.

San is unfazed by your moment of stunned admiration, simply showing you the comfy chair he’s readied for you. You sit down meekly; you may not be involved in the scene directly, but his dominant air still wraps around you. Usually you would describe San’s appearance as masculine handsomeness balanced with a perfect dose of cuteness, but now there is an edge of roughness to him, even by just standing there.

Wooyoung looks from you to San, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“What are you doing, showing off like that?” he says; bold words for a man who just posed to show off his (admittedly fantastic) ass in those leather pants. “You really want to impress her, trying to look tough, huh? Just do what you always do, geesh, that’s already fucking hot enough.”

The compliment slips past almost unnoticed, but Wooyoung turns to you before San has a chance to react. “Did you know,” he goes on, with the grin of a born troublemaker, “Sannie seriously did push-ups before you got in here. I think he’s nervous, isn’t that cute?”

His grin widens when you crack into a smile, so caught off guard by Wooyoung’s reveal that you have to muffle a laugh. It is cute.

San’s face goes dark while he watches Wooyoung mouth off. Your sweet neighbour would be flustered by the callout, but San isn’t your sweet neighbour right now. He has slipped into a different mode, and won’t be knocked out of it by Wooyoung’s antics.

Instead he takes two long strides across the room and without warning, grabs Wooyoung’s chin, tilting it up. “I think it’s time you shut your mouth and use it for better things,” San says, his voice rough.

Wooyoung softly gasps a surprised ‘ahh’, his body instantly reacting to San’s forceful touch. San’s eyes flash at the way Wooyoung’s back arches, a sharpened half-smile on his lips.

(“He likes to rile me up,” San had told you — but clearly San likes to be riled up, too.)

San pulls Wooyoung forward, mouths clashing in an aggressive kiss. Immediately he palms the crotch of Wooyoung’s leather pants, kneading at the growing bulge. Wooyoung groans, his teeth digging into San’s bottom lip while his hands cling onto broad, bare shoulders to keep his knees from buckling.

You rub your thighs together at the sight, a familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen. Your breaths go shallow, eyes unsure of where to focus.

Down to the smooth roll of Wooyoung’s hips as he humps into San’s hand, up to the way their jaws shift as the kiss gets messier; giving you more and more sloppy peeks at their tongues sliding together with wet, eager moans. San’s grip on Wooyoung’s chin is still unrelenting, manoeuvring the shorter man in whichever way pleases him.

A slow hand travels down your thigh, knees parting by instinct as your fingers slide in between. You’d wisely foregone on underwear, and you can feel the easier slide through just one layer of fabric, a growing damp spot where you rub the skirt against your clit. Your inhibitions are lowering rapidly, a soft whine joining Wooyoung’s loud one when his hips begin to stutter — and San immediately pulls away.

“F-fuck,” Wooyoung hisses, chasing after San’s hand. “C’mon, just let me—”

“And let the show end so quickly?” San asks, finally releasing Wooyoung’s chin to give him a condescending pat on the cheek. “That’s real greedy of you, Woo.”

Wooyoung scoffs. “You know I can go for more than one round, you’re just being a— f-fuck, San—!”

With a sharp smack, the flat of San’s hand strikes against Wooyoung’s ass. Just from the sound, you think even San’s palm must hurt from the impact against leather. Wooyoung jolts forward, mouth fallen open as he pants for hard breaths. He lets out another moan when San tangles his hand in those fire red locks of hair, forcing Wooyoung’s head at an angle.

“You think you deserve to cum more than once, after mouthing off like you just did?” San says, his voice cool, an almost detached expression on his face. “You’re lucky I don’t call the whole thing off right here.” His free hand undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of his zipper loud in the quiet bedroom. He is not wearing anything underneath. “Here, prove that you’ve earned one at all, or do you want to disappoint our guest? On your knees. Now.”

For a moment Wooyoung looks ready to balk — but then his eyes dart to you and he visibly swallows down a retort, obediently getting down.

Obedient, for you.

Your fingers press down a little harder into your cunt, aching at Wooyoung’s compliance, all to please you. The barrier of fabric becomes increasingly frustrating, its damp spot growing outright soggy as you whine a soft moan.

Wooyoung’s eyes immediately snap back to you, glittering as he watches the swirl of your fingers, the tensing of your thighs, partially covered by the skirt that is slowly riding up. He licks his lips, eyes hungry.

San chuckles at Wooyoung’s meeker demeanour. “So eager to have her watch you suck my cock, hmm? Would’ve done this much sooner if I’d known how quick you’d be down on your knees.” He runs his hand through Wooyoung’s red hair, forcing him back to the task at hand.

Wooyoung stares up with a glower, wrapping his hand around the thick, half-hard cock. He parts his lips and leans in — for a small, rebellious bite on San’s hip.

San hisses, his grip on Wooyoung’s hair tightening. “Play nice,” he warns in a low growl. “I can still change my mind about all this.”

Silently, Wooyoung simply laps his tongue at the bite; to soothe the mark, but also to take pride in it. A last act of defiance before his mouth closes around San’s cock with a soft wet sound, and he hollows his cheeks as he sinks down.

You’re spellbound, watching how Wooyoung noisily sucks and bobs his head. Moaning decadently, heavy-lidded eyes transfixed on San’s face. San takes shallow breaths, staring right back at Wooyoung and the glossy shine of spit that spreads over his hardening cock with every pass of Wooyoung’s mouth. You swallow thickly when Wooyoung’s cheek bulges, his fingernails lightly scratching the exposed skin of San’s thigh. It must be sensitive; San bites his lip, his hand balling into a fist in Wooyoung’s hair.

“Little faster, Woo. Work for it,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse. “You think I’ll take it easy on you just because we have company?”

Wooyoung lets out a whiny noise but eagerly follows the lead of San’s hand guiding him, now working his cock in earnest as his speed picks up. Drool escapes the corner of his mouth, more dribbling down with every muffled wet moan.

Desperate for friction, Wooyoung’s hips roll forward uselessly — but San stands still as a rock in contrast, content to make Wooyoung’s swollen lips slide up and down his thick length. He’d look utterly unaffected if not for the rise and fall of his chest with hard breaths, his jaw clenched as he watches Wooyoung go deeper with every pass.

Your last shreds of inhibition crumbles away, the sharp pulse in your cunt harder and harder to ignore. You are burning, and your boldness grows in direct proportion to your desperation for relief. A hand slips underneath your skirt, and you sigh at the direct contact, greeted by a slick mess.

San’s eyes flicker to you at the sound, his eyes piercing into the point where your wrist disappears underneath your clothes. You aren’t sure how much he can see, your skirt hiked up but still providing some cover — but you are sure he can hear the faint squelch of arousal as you fall into a rhythm, fingers sliding across your clit in familiar, toe-curling patterns.

You can’t even feel shy anymore at San’s enthralled stare, so deep in the chase for pleasure that his attention only spurs you on. Soft gasps for breath, your lips parting to give free passage to a shameless moan.

“Fuck,” San curses softly, and pulls Wooyoung’s mouth off of him.

Wooyoung is dazed, his eyes a little glassy, and he is reluctant to part his lips from San’s cock. He looks up in hazy confusion, lifting a hand to wipe his smeared face clean.

“Leave that,” San snaps, lightly smacking Wooyoung’s hand away. “Clothes off. On the bed.”

Wooyoung is too far out of it to even consider disobeying, his movements rushed and clumsy as he strips down. San is more controlled as he shucks off his jeans, then grabs for a bottle of lube from his nightstand. He watches approvingly how Wooyoung get on all fours, squeezing the base of his cock to take the edge off before he joins his boyfriend on the bed.

“Here,” he says, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s hips to manhandle him into a position where you get almost a full profile view, then roughly turns Wooyoung’s head towards you. “Let her take a good look at that face, what a pretty mess you made of yourself.”

Wooyoung is a pretty mess; eyes unfocused and mouth hanging open, lips and chin glistening with saliva and precum, his red hair unruly but pushed back to expose his forehead and the small studs of his eyebrow piercing. He is breathing shakily, bent down on his forearms; his back arches prettily, pushing his ass up into the air, and he rocks back in anticipation of having San’s hands on him.

But Wooyoung’s eyes slowly come back into focus when they fall on you, mesmerised by the same view that captivated San only a moment before. He hisses when you bite back a moan, deliberately shifting your thighs to make the skirt ride up higher. “Talk about pretty messes,” he groans. “Fuck.”

You whine, the praise blooming hotly in your abdomen. It’s hard not to squirm under Wooyoung’s heated gaze; so you don’t bother to try and stop yourself, hips rocking forward to meet your fingers as one trails down to press inside you, just a shallow dip, teasing yourself — and Wooyoung.

He groans unabashedly and burrows his face in the sheets, like the sight is too much for him to handle, his back arching deeper.

“That’s it,” San says in a silk-smooth voice, running his hand across Wooyoung’s spine, before drawing back to squeeze at his ass. “You’re enjoying yourself like this, aren’t you? Putting yourself on display like—” San bites something back, shaking his head. (You realise that you wish he hadn’t held back.) “How is it, Woo? Is it just as good as you thought it’d be, hm?”

“Better,” Wooyoung rasps, a crack in his voice. “It’s better, f-fuck, San…”

San chuckles, coating two fingers with a generous amount of lube. “See? That’s what happens when you behave. Never say I don’t reward obedience.”

You can’t quite see from this angle, but you still know exactly when San pushes inside Wooyoung. He shudders at the intrusion with a pleased moan, turning his head to glance back at San. He grins, just a little cheeky, when San’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Did you—?” San blinks, but then his eyes curve into a pleased smile. “You already prepped for this, babe? So considerate,” he purrs, squeezing Wooyoung’s ass in approval. He goes for another finger, just a few passes, but quickly pulls back to slick up his cock instead. “I could get used to this, you’re spoiling me today.”

���It wasn’t for you,” Wooyoung retorts. “Don’t get carried awa-aah—!”

The words are knocked out of him when San lines up and buries himself in Wooyoung’s tight hole in one smooth thrust.

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, Woo,” San says, panting slightly. He palms Wooyoung’s ass, then strikes with just enough force to have Wooyoung garble a choked moan. “I’d almost think you were mouthing off again, but that can’t be right, can it?”

“You’ll know when I’m—fuck, nghh!”

San quickly sets a hard pace, and your eyes go wide at the aggressive snap of his hips, brutal and hypnotising. You stop teasing yourself, two fingers picking up speed to match him, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit. It’s not enough, not nearly enough compared to what you see, and you groan in frustration, pushing yourself to stretch around a third finger, arousal smeared on your thighs and dripping onto the chair.

Wooyoung moans and whimpers loudly with every thrust — noises that you are already familiar with, but never heard so closely, so clearly before, no more walls in between you and him.

San’s teeth are gritted, sweat falling down his chin. He keeps up the punishing slam of his hips as he fucks into Wooyoung, whose upper body crumples into the bed under the relentless onslaught. His knuckles are pale from how hard his fingers clench onto the sheets, prominent veins in his forearms.

Shamelessly, you flip back your skirt entirely and use your free hand to press at your clit at a better angle, wishing desperately for a vibrator; for Wooyoung’s thighs to hump and grind against; for San’s cock plunging inside of you. Their mouths on you, devouring you whole. You whimper as the fantasies pile onto the reality in front of you, augmenting each other and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Wooyoung looks close to that edge too, his brow knitted, eyes squeezed shut; a faint glimmer of tears on his lashes. Drool gathers on the sheet under his mouth, nothing but garbled nonsense leaving his lips.

“Any smart words, hm?” San demands, grunting tightly from keeping up his pace.

Wooyoung can only moan, squirming in San’s hold. San’s fingers dig harder into his hips, forcing him to take and take and take his cock, over and over again.

There is a triumphant glint in San’s eyes at Wooyoung’s incoherent state, barely able to string two words together. “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, laying down another smack on Wooyoung’s ass. You can see the reddening imprint even from where you’re sitting. “Never takes long before you’re fucked dumb on my cock.”

Wooyoung sobs, teething at the bedspread as a thick tear rolls down his cheek. You inhale a sharp breath at the sight, shooting through you like lightning.

San hears your gasp and freezes for a moment, immediately turning his head to you. His hips slow down to a shallow rocking, much to Wooyoung’s frustration, but San is focused on you; unsure whether your response is rooted in arousal or something else. “Colour,” he asks, firmly.

“Green,” Wooyoung whines loudly, “it’s green, don’t stop now—”

San smacks his ass with a sharp hit. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he warns and Wooyoung shuts up — though he does not stay quiet, whimpery moans escaping him as he pushes his ass back.

But San pays him no further attention right now, looking at you. His expression is somewhere halfway between the hard dom of tonight and the gentle neighbour that you know; wanting to know for sure that he did not overstep in his degradation of Wooyoung.

You nod, vigorously. “Green,” you say in agreement, “very green.”

The way Wooyoung is losing himself in the thrill over this treatment, the way he revels in pushing San just to make him push back; he visibly gets off on the consequences of his bratty actions — and that is getting you off too.

San holds your gaze a moment longer, like he is gauging the honesty of your answer. Then he nods, with a wink so quick you almost miss it.

“You hear that, Woo? She likes me talking to you like this,” he purrs, leaning over to catch the tear on Wooyoung’s cheek with his tongue. He briefly rubs his nose against Wooyoung’s temple and straightens back up, quickly picking up the pace again.

But Wooyoung has lifted his head, coming just slightly out of his stupor at the sound of your voice. He looks in your direction; at perfect eye level with your leaking cunt, and the three fingers sunk deeply inside.

His face contorts with a pained groan, fingers twitching in the sheets. The lewd display of you fucking yourself on your fingers breaking through his last shred of self-control. “Oh fuck,” he hiccups. “Look at that wet pussy. F-fuck, been so long since I last buried myself in a juicy cunt like that.” He is full-on rambling now, his tongue thick and speech slurred.

You whimper, clenching around your fingers. No touching, you remind yourself. It’s just talk.

“Wanna suffocate between those thighs, god you’d taste so good I just know it,” he babbles, high on the thought of you, and the mental images blaze through your head like wildfire.

He would tease, you are dead certain of it; he’d drive you mad on purpose until you grab his hair and grind into his face, exactly as he wants you to — fuck, that gorgeous slope of his nose looks just perfect to ride up against your clit—

“Woo…” San says warningly, but he is deaf to it.

“Can I—” Wooyoung sobs, repeating the words like a chant, Can I— Can I— Can I—

“Y-yes.”

It slips past your lips before you can think it through. Quiet and desperate; but Wooyoung hears. San hears. He tuts sharply, mercilessly intercepting the shaky hand that Wooyoung reaches out to you.

“You know the rules, Woo,” he chides, but even without him looking your way, it still feels partially directed at you too. “Or are you so drunk on my cock that you can’t remember something that simple? Tell me what the rule is, now.”

“N-no touching…” Wooyoung whines.

San nods in approval, and rewards Wooyoung by reaching around to wrap a firm hand around his neglected cock. “Good,” he coos. “Look at you, you poor thing. So drunk on cock but still starved for pussy.” San’s eyes are on you now, and you’re taken aback by the hunger there, like he has mixed feelings on reinforcing the rule.

“Can’t even blame you for forgetting,” he says with quiet intensity, the smooth roll of his hips losing their aggressive edge, his hand working a little faster instead. Wooyoung makes a noise of complete debauchery, burrowing his face back into the bed with a desperate moan. “What a mess she is making, dripping on my chair,” San goes on, licking his lips, “all just for us. So cruel of me, dangling her in front of you like that. A pretty cunt like that deserves to be worshipped.”

The praise blooms hotly in your core, and with a flash you realise this is San’s way of reassuring you he is not upset about the push against boundaries. Suddenly the heat wraps into a sharp coil, and you’re not sure what does it; San’s hungry praise or the desperate stutter of Wooyoung’s hips as San jerks him off, slick wet noises mingling with shaky whimpers. They pick up in speed as Wooyoung rushes towards his own peak, dragging you down with him into his unravelling.

You fall apart right after he does, broken by his choked up sobs; by him futilely twisting and wriggling against San’s strong grip. Your thighs shake, toes curling, the slide of your fingers against your clit just right — but the sight of the two men in front of you even more potent. Your hips jerk up as pleasure surges through you, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.

Desperately, you try to keep your fingers moving, to ride out this wave for as long as you can; all while watching how San’s palm glistens wetly as he lets go of Wooyoung’s cock and grabs onto his waist, yanking him back as San fucks into him, shifting focus to his own release. Wooyoung is nothing but a crumpled, snivelling mess but still he groans eagerly, encouraging San to use him.

San does just so, leaning over Wooyoung’s prone body to bite at his neck as San ruts into him, panting for breath. San’s moans grow higher than you expected, his low grunts fading away; if he was putting on a tough front when you first came in the bedroom, he no longer is now, too preoccupied with chasing his high.

Somehow it feels vulnerable, his dominant coat slipping off his shoulders. Like it’s something you’re not supposed to see — except he does let you see, lets you watch how the persona falls away as he slowly comes undone. Your breath hitches, a sharp moan catching in your throat as suddenly the aftershocks of your first orgasm stir with renewed life; and just like that you cum again, biting down your noises as though not to disturb San, trembling quietly in the chair as you watch, entranced. San’s hips finally stutter with a loud whine and then he stills entirely, pressing his face between Wooyoung’s shoulder blades with a drawn-out shudder.

With a weak moan your hands fall away; your body spent as though you are the one who just got fucked within an inch of your life.

The bedroom goes silent, almost.

Everyone is catching their breath, and Wooyoung makes an unintelligible sound when San pulls out and gently lowers him onto the bed. San’s eyes go soft as he brushes the hair out of Wooyoung’s face, kissing him on the forehead before he straightens up.

While you and Wooyoung lay boneless, slowly recovering, San rolls his shoulders and stretches his limbs with a quiet grunt, then grabs a robe to put on. He goes back to the nightstand, this time for a bottle of water. You never even noticed the two glasses that he clearly prepared beforehand, along with a few washcloths. He fills a glass, dampens a cloth, and returns to Wooyoung’s side.

Wooyoung hums in thanks as San helps him upright and hands him the glass of water. He takes a slow sip while San starts to wipe the sweat and other bodily juices off his skin, a grin bubbling up to his lips as his energy recharges. “Did so well, Sannie,” he says, stealing little touches with his free hand while San cleans him up. Eyes glittering with pure adoration. “Took such good care of me, you always do.”

“Shush. Drink your water,” San chides him, but his cheeks glow red at Wooyoung’s steady babble of praises.

The intimate sight of San and Wooyoung in their little bubble causes an unexpected fuzzy warmth to bloom in your chest; touched that they also trust you as an audience for this part, the quiet aftermath. It’s making you strangely timid after all that just transpired, smoothing down your skirt almost subconsciously.

Finally San takes the now empty glass back from his boyfriend. He pulls a blanket across Wooyoung’s body and helps him settle on the bed, where Wooyoung immediately snuggles up against a pillow and lets his eyes rest. (For a guy who made a point of ‘being able to go more than one round’, he sure is out like a light.)

San leaves a final peck on the top of Wooyoung’s head and sits back up, then goes to fill the other glass. He brings it to you with a fresh cloth, and hands you the drink. You take it with a grateful nod, but blink in surprise when San leans in to dab the sweat off your forehead.

He seems to suddenly realise what he has done, freezes instantly, then yanks his hand back as though burned. “Sorry,” he mumbles awkwardly, whispering so he won’t wake Wooyoung back up. “Forgot the damn rule myself.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, taking the cloth off his hands with a small, tired smile. You really didn’t mind. Did it even count now, during the aftercare?

San returns the smile. “Don’t tell Wooyoung, will you? I won’t hear the end of it,” he jokes, and you raise your thumb and forefinger to your lips to ‘zip’ them closed.

“Your secret is safe with me,” you promise solemnly, but the serious expression does not last for long; pushed out by the undeniable urge to tease San. “Besides, it’s nice to have some blackmail in case I ever need a favour from you.”

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “You’re as much of a handful as Wooyoung, aren’t you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment!”

“Don’t tell him that, either,” San says with a soft laugh, shaking his head.

It is silent again, and you wonder if you should feel awkward, cleaning yourself up right in front of San. You should, right? But he isn’t watching you anymore, simply keeping you company in the quiet, and somehow the whole thing just feels easy and natural. So you wipe the washcloth across your thighs with a ginger touch, avoiding the places where you are most sensitive. Just a quick pass to clean the worst of the dried arousal and sweat sticking there. You’ll take a proper shower at home.

“About what happened…” San says after a while, when it’s clear you have settled and are breathing a little easier, “what Wooyoung said. What you said—”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. We did agree on no touching beforehand, I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

He snorts. “You weren’t the only one pushing. But no, it’s fine. I told you, I don’t mind improvising, but in this case…” San hesitates, like he’s not sure how much to say. “Woo is a bit more impulsive than me during a scene. I… like clarity. I like knowing for sure that nobody does anything they might have second thoughts about later. Maybe I’m too cautious sometimes, but that’s how it works for me. So I didn’t shut it down because of you, I want you to know that. That was for me.”

“I understand. You feel responsible for him during a scene like this, right?”

“I am responsible for him. And for you too,” San gently corrects. “That’s how I see it, at least. It’s part of what I signed up for.”

“‘Signed up for’?” a hoarse voice echoes from the bed. “What am I, a job?”

“A full-time one, Woo,” San fires back without missing a beat, smiling fondly as he says it. “How long you’ve been listening in?”

Wooyoung’s head pops out from underneath the blanket, his red hair in complete disarray. But his eyes are already clearer than they were just a few minutes ago; maybe you should give him some credit for his recovery time after all.

“I don’t have second thoughts this time,” he mumbles, his speech still a little slurred.

San just nods in acknowledgement, and turns to you with an inquisitive look. The implied question is all too clear.

“No second thoughts here either,” you agree. No point in getting shy now.

“Well,” San says, and that easy, confident grin is back on his face, “then I guess we’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“Mm, good,” Wooyoung says, turning over to his other side to get settled again. Then he glances back at San, a spark of trouble in his eyes. “Do you need a refresher on the ground rules before that happens, Sannie? Just in case you forget any?”

“Dammit,” San groans under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Brow furrowed in pain, he gives you a reproachful look for the laugh that you unsuccessfully try to muffle. “So much for your blackmail,” he sighs.

[noisynaia]

Two Doors Down

[Frankie Morales x Reader]

summary: You are getting over a breakup and decide to go to your friend and neighbour Benny's house party.

word count: 2.6k 

rating: M

pairing: Fransisco "Catfish" Morales x f!reader 

note: Drinking and smoking. No use of (y/n). The reader uses she/her pronouns. This has not been beta-read and English is not my native language. Part 2

crossposted on my ao3

The Dolly Series Masterlist

My main masterlist

…Two doors down

They're laughing and drinkin', and having a party

Two doors down

They're not aware that I'm around   

Cause here I am

Crying my heart out, feelin' sorry while

They're having a party just two doors down…      

      

It’s dumb, you’re feeling so fucking dumb. Here you’re sitting, on your kitchen floor, crying over the end of a relationship that you should never have been in to begin with. You could, now in hindsight, see that your relationship with Lance had been shit. He had not treated you well, he never put in the same effort as you had, yet he was always jealous when you wanted to spend time with your friends. It has almost been two weeks since you had caught him cheating and simultaneously broken up with him. 

You had not been crying over it for many days now, but it had been a tough week at work and it is like everything that had happened just feels too much .  

Maybe that is what is the true reason for your tears, not the sadness from a broken heart, but the sadness of realising that you had wasted so much time and energy on a person who didn’t deserve it. You sit for a little longer trying to force the tears to stop, you don’t want to spend the rest of the night like this.     

You raise your right arm over your head and plant your hand on the kitchen counter, slowly pulling yourself up from the floor. Your head is aching after all the tears and you feel the need for a cigarette. You usually never smoke inside, always retreating to your balcony, but you allow yourself to make an exception, this one time, and settle for just opening your kitchen window and turning on the extractor hood before you lit your cigarette. You can hear the music through your open kitchen window. 

You had totally forgotten about Benny’s party, you had actually told him you would stop by. Well, you had told him you might stop by if you didn’t feel too shitty in the light of your recent breakup. Benny had been very supportive and  had volunteered to go kick Lance’s ass, which you honestly had been tempted to let him.   

Benny lives in the apartment two doors down the hall from you. The two of you have established a pretty good friendship, he is the only person on the floor around your age, most of the other residents in your building are older. You know Benny has wanted you to meet his brother and his friends, who are gonna be there, for some time now. You rub your hand over your damp eyes and take the last drag of your cigarette before putting it out, letting a bit of water rinse over it and throw the bud in the trash.

You go to your bedroom and swing your wardrobe doors open with a little more force than needed, looking over your clothing options. You pull out a couple of items before your eyes land on a bordeaux red slip dress that goes to your midthigh. You change out of your sweatpants to put on a pair of nylon tights. You fix your hair and apply a little makeup, trying to hide your tear-stained face as good as you can before grabbing a thin black cardigan. You refuse to keep spending your Saturday night sitting on your kitchen floor in self-pity.   

…I think I'll dry these useless tears

And get myself together

I think I'll wonder down the hall

And have a look around

'Cause I can't stay inside

This lonely room and cry forever

I think I really rather join 'em

Two doors down, yeah…

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door to Benny’s apartment. A few seconds go by before the door swings open. 

“You came!” A very happy Ben has opened the door, clearly at least a couple of beers into the night already. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!” He throws his arms around you, pulling you into a bone-crushing bear hug. “You feeling okay?” He asks, much quieter, as he lets you go. 

You nod, offering him a weak smile. You don’t want to admit to have been crying less than 30 minutes ago. He smiles back at you understandingly. 

“Let’s get you a drink!” He declares leading you through the crowded apartment to the kitchen. “I have someone I would like you to meet, also I need to prove to my brother that I don’t live in a retirement community.” He sighs at the last past, it must be something he has been teased with. 

Three men are standing by the kitchen counter, a blonde man that you just know must be Will, the resembling to Benny is clear. You are less sure about the two other men, they must be friends of Will. One man with a charming crooked smile, a few silver strands mixed with dark curls. A slightly taller man in a black hat, who is fidgeting with the beer bottle in his hand, not looking as comfortable as his companions.              

“So, this is my brother William and his friends.”

Guys, this is my good friend and neighbour.” Benny exclaim, the men turning to look at you. 

“Can you fix her a drink while I go fix up the table? And be nice!” He says the last part as he gives the curly-haired man a stern look.        

“Hey! Santiago, but I can just be Santi to you.” The man with the curls tells you as he shakes your hand with a wink. Oh, he’s a flirt.  

You tell them your name and shake Will's hand before facing the last man. 

“I’m Frankie. Well, I’m Francisco, but people call me Frankie.” He is not coming off nearly as smoothly as Santi, but you can’t help but smile at him.   

You stand there a little awkward for a moment, but the conversation is soon picking up and you actually have a pretty good time. The guys are both nice and funny, not that you would expect anything else from the brother and friends of Benny.    

You talk for a while, sipping on the greyhound Santi had made you.    

“Ey, beer pong tournament! Are you guys playing?” Benny, who has come back in the kitchen, yells excitedly, getting two six packs from the fridge.  

Santi is quick to express his excitement  

Your stomach drops at the thought of having to chase after a ping pong ball at a party full of strangers. It sounds like your worst nightmare. 

“I think I’ll skip.” You declare.     

 Santi claps his hand on Frankies back. “Ya’ gonna play, Fish?”

Fish..?

Frankie doesn't look like he wants to play, his expression a stark contrast to Santi’s. 

“Nah, I think I’ll sit this one out.” Frankie croaks.  

“Suite yourself.” Santi shrugs. “You gonna partner up with me then, Benny boy?”

And by that, you are left alone in the kitchen with Frankie.

“Uhm, I think I’ll go for a smoke.” You mumble, fumbling with the clasp on your little handbag to get your lighter and your pack of cigarettes.

“Do you maybe wanna come and keep me company?” You look up at Frankie.   

He was the quietest when you had spoken with him and the others, but you like his vibe and you have to admit that he is very easy on the eyes. Brown hair is sticking out from the black baseball hat he is wearing, a breathtaking smile, broad shoulders and a pair of warm brown eyes.     

Frankie smiles and gives you a nod, emptying his beer before following you out on the balcony. You wrap your cardigan a little tighter around your torso as you’re hit by the cool night air. You lean your left side up against the brick wall, Frankie mirrors you leaning his right side against the wall so you’re facing each other.  

“Want one?” You ask before putting the cigarette between your lips. He accepts your offer with a small smile and you hand him your lighter after litting your own cigarette.      

“So… Fish? ” You ask as you breathe out a cloud of smoke, tilting your head slightly, not wanting to blow it directly into his face.  

“The guys and I.” He tilts his head at the balcony door. “We’re old military buddies.” He shrugs. “My code name was Catfish, guess things like that just stick” He shakes his head with a smile and you can’t stop yourself from smiling too. It makes sense, Benny had told you his brother had served.   

“Well, Fish, tell me more about yourself.” You prompt with a smile. And he does. 

What should have been a five-minute smoke turns into a long conversation where the two of you take turns telling each other about yourself. 

…'Cause here I am

No longer cryin' an' feelin' sorry

We're having a party just two doors down…

Almost an hour has gone by and the two of you have forgotten the party completely, the only reminder is the music coming from inside the apartment. His baritone voice and warm eyes have captivated you and as the sound of his warm bubbly laugh hits your ears something warm blooms in your chest. 

You like him more and more the more you get to know him. You probably shouldn’t let yourself feel like this so quickly after your breakup, but you really can’t stop the warm yearning feeling his smile is creating in your heart.      

…I can't believe I'm standin' here

Dry-eyed, all smiles and talkin'

Making conversation with the new love I have found

I ask him if he's like to be alone and we start walkin'

Down the hall to my place waitin' two doors down, yeah…

The conversation has landed on movies.

“Okay, it doesn’t have to be your favourite, but what movie have you rewatched the most?” You ask with a smile.

“Honestly… Probably Winnie the Pooh.” He shakes his head with a shrug and smile.  

“ Winnie the Pooh?! ” You giggle.   

“Yeah…” Frankie clears his throat, looking nervous all of a sudden. “I have a little girl, so…”

“Oh, you do?” You say with a smile, trying to not sound surprised. Him having a kid doesn't scare you away and something about him being a girl-dad makes perfect sense to you. There is a little voice of worry in the back of your head though, not from him being a dad, but Frankie being a father means that there is a mother. He is not wearing a ring and nothing about your conversation has implied that he is married or in a relationship. But you had just caught Lance cheating. It would break your heart if you were flirting with another woman’s man right now.

“Yeah, Solana, she is three.” He continues. “Her mother and I got divorced when she was still a baby. She stays with me every other weekend.”  

The worry you felt disappears completely and you can’t help but give him a wide smile. 

“Can I see a picture?” You ask, wanting him to know that you don’t have anything against him having a child.    

A little girl with big chestnut-brown eyes and fluffy brown curls is smiling at the camera.     

“Oh, she’s so cute.” You coo, and you mean it, she is absolutely adorable. 

“Looks like her daddy.” You giggle, the resemblance is uncanny.  

“I guess she does.” He sighs at the phone screen. “Poor baby.” He jokes, but you feel that there is something more to his words.      

You look up at him with a frown. “I don’t think it is a bad thing.” You murmur. 

You don’t want to overstep, but you hate the idea of him thinking he isn’t good enough. 

“I know I’ve just met you Frankie, but I think she is pretty lucky to have you as her father.”

“You do?” He asks, voice low and soft.

“Yeah, I do.” You whisper, not noticing that you have taken a step closer towards him.  

He shifts a little, leaning his body slightly towards you. He looks deeply into your eyes and you think your heart skips a beat. He gently cups your cheek, and you lean into his touch. Your pulse quickens from the feeling of his warm skin on you.

And then you’re kissing him. 

…Two doors down

They're laughing and drinkin', and having a party

Two doors down

We're not aware that they're around …

His lips are soft, tasting of the beer he’s been drinking, with a slight ashy aftertaste from the smoke. Your own lips probably taste the same. You completely melt into his touch, finding a rhythm of gentle movements, getting familiar with the shape of him and you love it.

You open your mouth a little wider, slightly tilting your head to the side. Giving Frankie space to deepen the kiss and he does. He removes his hat to not poke you with the visor. 

Your hand comes up to grab the now-exposed curls at the back of his head, your other hand is buried in the fabric of his shirt. 

You moan softly into the kiss as Frankie slips his tongue deeper into your mouth. Your grip on his hair tightens, and you can feel the fire in your lower stomach enlight. 

You finally break the kiss both gasping for air. His thumb gently stroking your cheek as he looks down at you with those deep warm eyes of his.    

“You know, uhm…” You pant out, suddenly feeling very nervous. “I live just down the hall if you… You know… Want to be alone.”  

“Yeah, I… I would like that.” He nods. 

     

…'Cause here I am

Feelin' everything but sorry

We're having our own party two doors down …

You roam around your bag to get the key to your apartment. You had tried to ignore the look Benny had given you when you told him that you left. The others had been too engulfed in their game to notice that you and Frankie had been staying out on the balcony all night, but you leaving with Frankie gained their attention. Santi had given Frankie a thumbs up as you left which had made Frankie blush severely. 

You finally get the key, fumbling with the lock before you can get the door open and let Frankie into your home.     

Frankie closes the distance between you as soon as the door has closed behind you. You place a hand in his hair, grabbing the soft curls, softly pressing him closer, and deepening the kiss.

You stumble through your apartment until you reach your coach where the two of you collapse, you on top of Frankie. 

His warm tongue slipping between your kiss-swollen lips. You really like him and you want more, you really do, but you are not sure if it is a good idea. You might have just come out of a relationship, but It’s been a long time since you have felt like this with anyone and you’re afraid of ruining it. He breaks the kiss before you can worry any further. 

“Sorry, I…” He whispers, slowly pulling away, looking deeply into your eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just, I think I would like to get to know you better. If that is what you want too, of course." He looks nervous. “Maybe I could take you out on a date?” 

“I would like to get to know you better, Francisco. And I would love to go on a date with you.” You tell him softly.

He smiles wide with relief and his lips are back on yours. The kiss is so sweet it makes your chest feel warm and content. Maybe this really can be the start of something beautiful.

[cityofdreams-writing]

Punishment

Rating: E

Pairing: Sub!Bang Chan x Dom!Male!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4K

Genre: Smut

Warning: Swearing, vibrator, overstim, multiple orgasm, orgasm delay/denial, ruined orgasm, whiny baby Chan, use of pet names, reader has male genitalia but no pronouns used and "master" used as a title, degradation and slight praise, safe word discussion and I think that’s it. Let me know if I missed anything!

Author: @cityofdreams-writing

Description: Chan is needy and waits for you to come home from work to make up for missed time. You’re oblivious at first but you like it.

Notes: This was requested by a friend of mine on Discord. Unfortunately, I can’t reach her right now because I’m on mobile and I don’t have my PC. :( Anyway, I hope you enjoy it as much as she does, shout-out to my friend Felix!

Soundtrack: None

"I missed you."

That's the phrase that got you and Chan in this situation.

How? No idea.

It started when you came home from work, exhausted as fuck, and just wanting to cuddle with your husband.

Chan, being needy, clung to you with every move. It was like having a temporary koala on you. Except a lot less fluffy and a lot...heavier. Having 143 pounds of pure muscle on your back is not exactly easy.

Did you really mind? No. Were you oblivious, though? Yes. He had to tell you, explicitly, that he was needy and needed attention. How embarrassing. You're not that dense, are you?

Kidding. You're never that dense. Quite the contrary in fact. You're a smart businessman with a quick tongue and sharp wit. You were just tired.

Nevertheless, that quick tongue made you fairly popular with your partners. ;)

Ah sorry, sorry, sorry! Back to the story. Chan finally jumped on you and wouldn't let you go, and so you carried him all the way up to your shared bedroom.

"You're so cute, baby." You murmured softly with a smile on your face, setting him on your lap.

He leaned in, closing the distance between you with a kiss and a gentle smile. The kiss was sweet and pure at first, until his hands got antsy and started to dig into your back, leaving you with a carnal desire to absolutely ruin him. You slowly licked against his upper lip, drawing a moan from him as he opened his mouth.

Okay, but how did that lead to your final and Chan's third (and final) orgasm of the night?

Okay. Let's start with his first orgasm.

Chan sat on the bed, moaning softly with his head back against the headboard, his eyes closed and not a single article of clothing on his body. You were murmuring sweet nothings against his sunkissed skin as you slowly jerked him off.

His hands explored the plains and valleys of your body, finding every dip and curve to pull you closer.

Every moment was filled with hungry lust, soft moans and gentle hip movement, leaving Chan almost hypnotized by you.

He was caught in your spell.

And he was officially in subspace, so he'd do practically anything to please you.

So there he was, whining and bucking his hips up as you slowly, lazily jerked him off. You decided, feeling very adventurous, you were going to try something new. You brushed up against Chan, rocking your hips against his and grinding his cock against yours.

He was definitely confused at first. It was fun seeing the look of confusion change to pure pleasure as moans streamed from his mouth as much as tears streamed from his eyes.

You groaned deep into his ear as he let out an ear-piercing whine.

A long string of curses and slick noises followed, and then Chan came without a warning, too lost in the pleasure to speak.

For that, you decided to punish him, even though you had cum too. But to be fair, he had cum first.

You just wanted to punish him. That's all.

"What did I say about coming without master's permission, baby boy~?"

And that's what led to his second (ruined) orgasm.

Chan bit his lip, tears shimmering in his eyes.

"'M sorry master…won't happen again! Pl-ah!" He got cut off by a whine as you inserted a thick vibrator into him after lubing it up to the base, feeling his hole stretch around it. It was aimed right at his prostate too, so it was perfect.

"Such a pathetic little boy, hm~? Can't even wait for his fucking master to cum and instead shoots out without a warning. What a bad boy." You growled in his ear, your fingers gripping his chin. He shivered and a tear fell down his cheek. You turned on the vibrator to a high setting, watching him first scream and then writhe around in pleasurable agony.

"You know what your safe word is, right baby?" You softened for a moment, a little concerned.

"Y-yeah, I wanna keep g-going though." Chan sniffled a little and smiled that same smile that made you fall in love with him.

"Okay."

With that you crashed your lips on his, choking him a little with your hand as you explored his mouth with your tongue. He moaned into your mouth, turning you on even more, guiding his hips against your other hand.

You slapped his cock a little, watching him hiss a little and then scream again as the vibrator hit his prostate dead on.

You smirked as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and squeezed, preventing him from coming. He whined in frustration and sobbed, sniffling again.

"I'll let you cum only if you're going to be a good toy for me to play with." Your tone was seductive and threatening, like poisoned, but sweet wine. You tilted his chin up and smirked at the sight. Teary lashes, plump red lips slick with saliva, his abused cock twitching and leaking for attention, and his milky skin marked up with your bruises.

"A-ah! I'll be-I'll be a good toy! All for master, fuck...oh, please, please keep going, wanna cum, wanna cum, please..." Chan was desperately rambling, his moans getting higher pitched with every word, trying to jerk up into your hand.

You smirked and turned off the vibrator. "Roll over and spread your legs, then wait."

Chan was dutiful, rolling over and exposing his puckering hole to the air.

You got back onto the bed, rolling on a condom and lining up your cock at his entrance.

"Ready~? I’m gonna put it in now…" You whispered against his ear as your lips brushed it, your voice dripping with honey, eliciting a little shiver and a pretty whine at the seductiveness in your voice.

Chan brought your lips against his and opened his mouth as you groaned. The younger male whimpered softly as you dragged your tongue teasingly over his.

Fire bloomed like a beautiful orange flower from every touch and caress, feather-light and fleeting like a bird. The way you ran your hands down his spine to find the small of his back was like dragging a flower petal on the hardened muscles of his back.

Delicate, but beautiful.

You tapped the head of your cock against his hole, making him squeal and draw back. You smirked as you saw him clench around nothing, slowly pushing in.

The groan that came from Chan's mouth was breathy and high, his eyes falling shut in pleasure.

"Fuck, it's so tight…" You hissed.

"I didn't really prep myself for this, I just got horny thinking about you…" Chan gasped as your cockhead slowly moved against his warm, velvety walls.

His breath hitched as you started to thrust inside him, slowly at first and then faster as you started to get close to your final high of the night. You brutally abused his prostate, muffling your loud groans with bites on his neck. He screamed your name multiple times, letting everyone know who his master was.

"That's my good boy, just a little more, I'm gonna cum soon…" You groaned.

You were at least a little worried about the noise complaints that you'd be getting soon, but you were a little too busy fucking right now.

He came one last time and collapsed into your arms, tear tracks on his face and his body bruised. You filled up the condom, then pulled out slowly and wiped his face clean, placing gentle kisses on his forehead, the long slope of his nose, and the spot where his upper lip started. You tied the condom and threw it in the trash, your body wobbly from a post-orgasm haze.

You cleaned up his sweaty body and rubbed ointment on his bruises where you had gripped him a little too hard. You two could shower later.

Your sheets were changed in a matter of minutes, mainly thanks to your anxiety mounting as Chan slid further and further off the chair, looking like a rag doll.

Thankfully he didn't fall and you brought him safely to bed, laying him down and turning off the lights. You kissed the male, smiling as the moon illuminated his sleeping frame. He curled into your arms with a small smile.

"I love you, Chris Bang."

[shotorozu]

hello!! i saw that your requests were open and wanted to ask if you could do single dad! atsumu suna and sakusa falling in love with reader, like it's sort of a meet cute (or not) but the reader falls for them and the kid and happiness lskfjsdfk have a great day!!

single dad! falling for reader

character(s) : miya atsumu, suna rintarou, sakusa kiyoomi (haikyuu!!)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, timeskip au! (because,, single dads.)

headcanon type : fluff, crack and angst if you squint (x reader)

warning(s) : mentions of the character’s ex wives, the ex-wives being jerks for multiple different reasons and ways (so,, be warned. for negligence, not very detailed hitting, and cheating, but not on reader)

note(s) : me, writing for haikyuu?? wow, a surprise! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for haikyuu so if i don’t get the characterization correctly— ESPECIALLY FOR SAKUSA, i’m sorry in advance.

»»————-　♡　————-««

miya atsumu

at first, his marriage was happy. miya atsumu— successful in his 20s, basically set for life, and with a head strong wife that gave him a wonderful daughter

he was elated when his son, genji came into this world. he wouldn’t swap him out for anyone else. and it was all good, really

until he started spotting marks on genji’s delicate skin, and he even found a large bruise on his shoulder when he was changing his shirt! he almost passed away seeing that

genji would also have a sudden fear of being alone in the house— even when his mother would stay behind to take care of him

but why though? genji’s only 4! what could’ve happened to him? he doesn’t recall hiring any babysitters.

he finally found the answer one day, when he found out that his head strong, intense wife— has been physical with him!

basically, all the love for his wife flew out the window, and he filed for a divorce— and of course, he won custody

and he assumed that his love life would stop at that— and it didn’t sound terrible. all that mattered was that his son was safe, and happy again

but this is where you come in

you work at a toy store, a small business toy store really, that sold the highest of quality only

and atsumu took genji to either replace, or fix the toy he broke a few days back. the place was recommended to him by shoyo— who also had a kid of his own

you’re just two years younger than him, eyes full of determination and care, practically the complete opposite of his ex-wife.

you put up a good conversation with him, while you fixed the toy— the two of you talking about the mutual friends, and that ‘this place should be a lot more popular.’

and also, his son did happen to take a liking to you. he seemed joyous in your presence— compared to how he was with his ex-wife

and from that moment on, the two of you would only become closer— especially when a bunch of his son’s toys started breaking magically

before atsumu knew it, he harbored something for you— the absolute angel you were to the both of them

“‘m sorry for the inconvenience,” the faux blond scratches the back of his next “didn’t know genji here was a ‘lil clumsy weasel,”

you laugh, and genji’s just staring at you with amusement, “it’s fine, genji could break his entire toy box— and i’d still fix it anyway.”

so this was the nerve wracking part, “to make up for it, would you like some coffee later? i could treat ‘ya.”

“is this yer way of askin’ Y/N—”

“shut yer mouth for a sec— uhm,” he looks at you, sheepishly

you laugh, “miya, i wouldn’t mind honestly. but i’d assume you’re busy as it is.”

“not at all!” atsumu replies, “i’ll just, drop off genji first. say yer thanks to Y/N,” atsumu looks at genji, encouraging him to say his thanks

“,,thanks for fixing my toys, Y/N.”

“no problem, genji.” you smile at the two of them when they move to leave the store, fixed toys in hand— as they wave at you before parting

“oh, Y/N?” atsumu calls out,

“yeah?”

“call me atsumu— from now on.” his cheeks are tinted pink, and he can feel genji’s eyes on him.

“oh, uhm. yeah! i’ll see you later, atsumu.”

so yeah— the two of you went out for some coffee, and before he even knew it, he was in love.

it might take him a few months to realize it though

suna rintarou

i can’t imagine him having kids for some reason 💀 but if he were to have any, he’d definitely have a daughter

rintarou himself, didn’t think he would have kids at at all, really. but the moment he was able to meet asuka— his lovely little daughter

he was hooked. he seemed a little awkward at first, not very used to caring for a child. but he was actually decent at his job

he’d sneak into his daughter’s room to hold her when she was upset— even when his wife was too knocked out to realize it, and he’d show her picture books

since she liked them a lot, even when she can’t coherently read a straight paragraph yet.

it started to concern him when he realized how little his wife was involved in the development of their daughter.

she started acting different, a little bit after she didn’t have to breastfeed asuka

and then, that’s when it happened.

“i literally can’t believe you,” he speaks when he’s packing his things, “we have a child together.”

his soon to be ex wife is on the floor, begging him to stay— but he doesn’t care. “look, the idea of you cheating wasn’t very surprising. i don’t care anymore, really. but the fact that you’ve been neglecting asuka for your selfish needs is low. i hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

his words are so much different that his lenient, calm self. which only solidifies reality

so he leaves with asuka, not caring about the sobs that left his soon to be ex wife’s mouth.

and even though he was still angry at his wife for not being there, he’d never let it show to asuka

he’d still show her picture books, he’d still sit down and watch miraculous ladybug with her— even when she doesn’t understand it all completely

and speaking of picture books— he decided that he needed to buy more for her

so he took her to the bookstore, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. he bought all those previous books when asuka was still a newborn

now it’s a little fuzzy on what he should be looking for. colors, right? he needs a picture book that has plenty of colors.

and that’s where you come in. you’re youthful, despite looking not that far off his age, you’re humming to yourself as you fix the bookshelves

“uhm,” he calls out for your help, and you look at him in recognition “need any help? what are you looking for?”

there’s a helpful glint in your eyes, and it reminded him of what should’ve been in his ex wife’s eyes. “my daughter, likes picture books. and,, i don’t know what i’m doing.”

she’s basically a replica of him, same eye color, and same hair color. but her eyes are much more rounded, youthful.

“cute kid,” you smile when she coos at you, “the children books are this way, follow me!” you exclaim, moving to navigate your way to the children’s book isle

so it seems to be that you really know what you’re doing. most people would’ve recommended picture books with a lot of words, or just no words at all

but you’ve found the books that made asuka exclaim in happiness.

and although it’s not very obvious that rintarou’s caring to his child— he is, and you could tell. despite looking lost, and sometimes bored when you’re explaining the books.

so every 2 weeks, the father would return with his daughter, after he got back from volleyball— and you’d help them pick out on certain books.

rintarou assumed he’d never take a liking in anyone again, but,, here he is. and he doesn’t know how you’ll react to that.

but it’s worth a try— he’d try and get your number when he’d see you again

the next time you see him, the middle blocker’s alone. and he tells you that he needs more picture books for asuka, since she’s staying over at his volleyball friend’s house for a day

“Y/N,”

“yes?” you turn your head, meeting his stare. he looks well,, himself. like how he first sought out for your help a few weeks back

“,, could i get your number? y’know, just in case asuka wanted worded books in the future. you’ve helped a lot, so,,”

you smile, “is this your way of hitting on me?”

he didn’t think it was that obvious, “what?— i mean,” he fumbles to reason out, feeling a bit more awkward. because yes, he’s asking you out but,, he has the power to make things more laxed, y’know?

truthfully, you don’t know much about him. you know a lot about his daughter, sure! but you don’t know anything about her biological mother, or what happened, or why she’s not taking asuka to the bookstore

but you chose not to ask, out of respect. he’d tell you some other day. “i’m just teasing,” you smile, moving to get a small piece of paper— writing your digits on the paper, and placing it in his pocket

“i’d like to see you again,” you smile, “say hi to asuka for me.”

the middle blocker left the store in content, absolutely sure that asuka would love to see you again even when she can’t form proper sentences.

sakusa kiyoomi

didn’t think he’d be fit to be a father— but here he is

though he seems cold, he does take responsibility, and he does love and care for his child, seina

it’s not like he’ll be posting pictures of his child everywhere— i mean, even if he had a different personality, he still wouldn’t be posting his kid everywhere

but he does cherish seina, like his life depended on it. he’d still silently watch her cross out word puzzles in a messy matter, he’d silently listen to her talk about her favorite pastries

he loves her!

so that’s why it made him mad, when even after 4 years of seina being born, her mother made little to no effort in spending time with her

doesn’t matter if it was a simple gesture like tucking her in, or showing up to a birthday— she just,, never did.

it was almost as if she was ignoring seina, which causes some distraught on the child’s behalf— which passed on the negative feeling to him

like,, seina wasn’t an unbearable kid. sure, she acted up here and there, that’s an issue kiyoomi has been trying to fix on his own

but it was nothing too concerning, and it was containable. but his wife treated her like she was absolutely unbearable

and it was super strange because, she’d act normal around him, but would barely acknowledge her own daughter’s existence

so what did kiyoomi do? he confronted her, of course.

and no— his wife wasn’t cheating, and nothing tragic happened that would’ve caused her to be this way

she was just,, lazy

“so.. you gave birth and stopped caring for her? is that it?” furious was an understatement, considering that his wife forgot to make her daughter breakfast

which caused her to sneak out of the house, and ask for some breakfast from some nice neighbors.

“look, if you want nothing to do with her, just say that. i’m taking seina, and leaving.” so yeah now he’s a single father.

to say he didn’t love her was too quick, a part of him didn’t love the fact that his wife loved him, but didn’t show any sign of affection towards her daughter.

he knew it was going to fade away anyway. his feelings for his unofficial ex wife.

and i don’t think he’d plan on seeing new people, since now these days— people just like the idea of being with him

which meant that most people would’ve been scared away, or turned off if they really sat down in a conversation with him

besides the point, kiyoomi was taking his daughter to the bakery again— as she was craving new pastries, and wanted to go to the new bakery that just opened near by

and kiyoomi was like “why not ig” and took her there— but then, this is where he’d meet you for the first time

you were one of the bakers, and it’s not like he was going to pay attention to you— until you did something even HE couldn’t do

“papa, whyyyy” the whining sounding painful in his ears, as his daughter clung to the display of pastries “can’t we get moreeee??”

“seina,” he sighs, “no, we can’t.”

“but—”

“papa, you’re no fair!” her bottom lip trembles, and he could almost FEEL the judgmental stares of the other customers in the bakery

and this is where you come in, “is something the matter?”

“papa won’t.. get me more!” she stares at the selection of pastries, “i’ve been so nice but.. it’s no fair!” her eyes tear up

“don’t cry,” you bend down to blot her tears away with a tissue, “y’know, he probably has a reason, but you’re in luck— actually!” you maneuver behind the counter

you come out from behind, presenting a fresh batch of pastries— that were just right to his daughter’s liking, to the point that it shut her up entirely

“they’re on the house, today’s our opening day, so it’s the bakery’s treat!”you state in a warming matter, grabbing a paper bag to place the pastries in

kiyoomi stares at you, observing you quietly— you could feel his cold stare, even though he’s wearing a medical face mask, that covers about half of his face

you blink, not knowing what is going through his head, and you gesture to his daughter to take them

you clearly don’t know who he is— and that gives kiyoomi some sort of relief, compared to the other customers that are murmuring to each other “sakusa kiyoomi’s here with his daughter! is this what he does in his free time?”

kiyoomi takes the paper bag, giving some sort of non verbal acknowledgement, before he takes his daughter’s hand and leaves

“bye, kind person!” seina calls out to you, which catches you off guard— this causes your coworkers to coo at the girl’s words

“didn’t know sakusa’s daughter was so cute!”

and you’d assume that your interactions with the quiet stranger and his daughter would end at that, but no! life is full of surprises.

the tall masked father comes in again, a little bit before closing time— you were absolutely beat, your back feeling as if boulders were glued to the back, and your feet burning from all of the rush

“oh, what could i do for you?”

he stays quiet, but a small presence sticks behind him, and peers up to you. the face is familiar to you, so you wave “hi there! it’s nice to see you again.”

“i wanna say thanks.” her rounded eyes practically shimmer when they lay themselves on the pastries again, but she shakes her head “for the pastries! they’re very tasty.”

“i’m glad you like them, what was your favorite part of the pastry?”

“the filling! twas yummy!” she gives a toothy grin, “tell me, where ‘dya learn to bake like that?”

kiyoomi stares at the scene unfolding before him. it was.. new. unfamiliar— he hasn’t seen his daughter act like this with anyone else— besides him and his team mates. so, he simply watched.

seina babbled and babbled, much to the your amusement— and the other staff members. you listened to her with your full attention, your interest never wavering in the slightest

it’s a bit later, kiyoomi holds a tired seina in his arms— you expect him to leave the bakery, his daughter’s wishes been fulfilled, and he wouldn’t have a reason to stick around

but then he presents to you a large stack of cash “for the pastries. my,, daughter really liked them.”

your eyes widen, “sir! i told you, the pastries were on the house!” you shake your head, “either way, i can’t take this! it’s too much for some pastries!”

“no, seina insists. in fact, she’s entirely why i’m here.” his tone stays consistent, but even with the mask— you could tell that he’s smiling. “she’s well,, everything. if she’s set on something, then she’ll do everything to achieve her goal.”

you smile at the statement, “thanks for bringing her here sir..?”

kiyoomi hesitates to tell you his name for a moment, an unfamiliar, yet familiar pound in his chest rises— he chooses to not figure it out right now, considering that it would be too soon to pursue a romantic relationship.

but, if his daughter brought him here, then it must be for a reason. “kiyoomi.”

“right,” you smile, “thanks for coming here, kiyoomi. you can give me a call, if seina wants any more pastries.” you write your number on a piece of paper, and hand it to him

he doesn’t reply, but he does take the piece of paper anyway— keeping it in his pocket

and for once, he thinks that he doesn’t hate having to go to the bakery weekly., because there’ll be a warm presence there to greet him— and of course, seina.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own hq!! and it’s characters. haikyuu!! belongs to furudate haruichi, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))

[harrysgoldenline]

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

—————————————————————————

Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!

[purityoflust]

The Smile [Jeff The Killer X Victim!Reader] [PART 2]

Jeff the killer X Victim!

WARNING: Yandere. That's it. Yandere.

I finally decided how I would write part 2 to The Smile, which is my first and most popular post on my account so far. Anyone new who has come to read this, check out my other posts as well if you'd like. I'll post more like this. I also have a Quotev account with more fanfictions.

9/12/20, 3/4 days after the top part: God, AFTER SO LONG, I FINALLY DID IT! Took me days! I'm so sorry if this is a bit lazy, it is a tiny bit rushed by the end but how would you guys feel about a detailed part 3? I'll probably go as far as a part 3 or part 4 for the final part.

The vibrations in your brain felt warm and numbing - almost like when you have a horrible migraine and you can finally feel it subsiding with your eyes closed and your fingers gently holding down onto your eyelids as if you're holding your eyes into place to prevent them from bursting out of your skull. Upon waking up you can feel cold air settling into your skin. You haven't been awake 3 minutes and you already know what you're resting on; an extremely uncomfortable metal table. You've only seen them in movies but this was real.

The sound of a singsong voice just slightly echoing through what seemed like a moderately empty room. You groaned softly as you turned your head to your right, very slowly opening your eyes. Your vision blurred in and out, which, you wanted to rub to clear it out but as you went to lift your wrists, you felt pressure around them.

Something was holding your arms down. This catches your attention, blinking multiple times while turning your head back up straight and attempting to sit up. You were hardly successful with that, struggling while grunting under your breath to pull your hands from under what seemed to be a thick rope. As you pulled harder, you sucked in your stomach out of habit before immediately coming to a halt and choking up in pain.

This whole time you were ignoring the voice that was singing eerily nearby, "You and me, always forever~"

The voice was of a male. Scratchy, shaky. Familiar.

Familiar.

You could feel a string of your heart pop out of place as your breath stopped. That's when you knew something was wrong, but it just doesn't add up. You gulp while your eyeballs vigorously glance around to see where the source was coming from, only to see a figure in a corner. It was doubled over and it was sitting down on a simple wooden chair. Doubling over a...table? An average male figure, nothing unique. Although, the clothing style was unusual. At least what was on the clothes. He wore a fluffy white hoodie and what seemed to be black pants and black-and-white converse. The problem wasn't the outfit, no. His hoodie was spotted and had patterns upon patterns of darkened and more fresh-looking blood splatter. He had long black hair down to his shoulders. And luckily, his back was facing you.

You were dumbfounded. How did you get here, why are you restrained, and why is there a blood covered man near you? Is that even blood? Maybe it's paint or a design? Some people do wear clothes that have different kinds of blood splatter designs on them. Hm. Or he's an actual murderer about to gut you like a fish.

You wanted to speak. You wanted to speak so badly but you just couldn't. As you parted your lips, your throat went dry while your gaze stayed locked onto the bloody male that sat before you. The singing made you shiver as you tried so hard to remember where you could have heard or seen him. Why can't you remember?

The male then turned around to look at you. His singing had come to a gentle halt. Your mouth closed as he did so, your throat going completely dry and your whole body feeling like an ice cube. You were greeted with cold blue eyes. They looked hungry and bloodthirsty, yet they held a warm affection as they looked into your traumatized eyes. It was almost comforting until you saw the rest of his face. His skin was snow white and his lips looked dry. That's when more attention is drawn to his lower jaw. He's smiling. Too big for a normal person.

That's when you realize. He has a large smile carved into his cheeks going from ear to ear while his own lips were curled within a smile as well. And that's when it hits you.

And it hits you hard.

The memories of hours prior start brutally crashing into you, flooding back into your numb brain. All of the realization replaced itself with agonizing anxiety, your heart starting to race at speeds that felt impossible. You could pass out, but something inside you kept you awake. Something about him and about this whole situation was making you dizzy. The male slowly stands and turns his body all the way to face you. He seemed deranged, yet, he had a very relaxed stance and body language.

Uncomfortable silence loomed in the air.

He kept staring at you before slowly taking steps forward. You watch him carefully as your head feels like it's spinning, which you could notice your vision blurring a little bit here and there. The silence is suddenly disturbed with the male speaking up again, choking up in giggles. "Oh my sweet Y/N, you're awake~" He cooed, now standing over you. He leaned himself down and reached his hand to your cheek, gently brushing your skin with his surprisingly soft thumb. He leaned his face closer to yours. The smell of booze, blood, & smoke overwhelmed your nostrils. Yet it didn't seem to bother you that much.

His touch almost kind of made you feel...at ease. Your heart slowed itself and your breathing went back to pace. You felt fine, somewhat, but something in your stomach was still sore. The more you stare at him, the more memories come flooding back. The more memories flooding back, the easier you fit the puzzles together.

"M-my...stomach..--" You stutter out painfully.

In response to this, the male turned his head over to your abdomen and gently rested his other hand onto your bandaged stomach, applying very gentle pressure on it as to not hurt you. It was still slightly painful, causing you to groan under your breath.

"Oh, this...I'm sorry, my sweet butterfly. I had to make sure you wouldn't get away, and you didn't! Don't worry, Jack patched you up, so you'll be just fine!"

You remember now. You remember it all. The chase, your friend, the salty kiss before what you thought was your demise.

You naturally wondered as well; who's Jack?

"Wh-.." You weakly force air out of your throat again to speak, "why am I..tied-?"

"Oh, so you wouldn't be able to get away. I knew you would run away, or struggles, so I had to make sure you wouldn't do that!"

He was right. You would run away and struggle to get out of whatever the hell kind of place you're in. Well, knowing what he looks like. He DID stab you, after all. Who knows what this sicko wants.

He lifts his hand from your stomach and turns back to you, gently placing both of his hands at each side of your face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So sweet and so innocent. I couldn't keep letting the others eat you up like candy. You're mine and only mine. I need to protect you."

"Wh-who- are you?" You weren't really all too scared for some strange reason now. You were pretty calm. Probably from all of the energy this is draining.

"His name is Jeff." A deep and gruff voice cuts in.

The both of you turn your heads to the door of the room where a tall figure in all black stood. He was about 6"4 wearing heavy boots, black jeans, and a black hoodie. His hair was a dark brown though while he wore a mask. The mask was a dark blue with black goo oozing from the eyesockets. He was pretty intimidating even just by standing idly like a character waiting to be loaded in.

"And I'm Jack." He continued, "I'm the one who took care of your wound."

Jack stepped closer, soon standing at the other side of the table. He stood at the left as Jeff stood at the right.

"He wouldn't stop insisting I help."

You just blink, unknowing of what to respond with. He pursed his lips under his dark mask, in his own thought for a moment while staring down at you. You seemed calm enough, and your still pretty fresh injury was gonna hold you back anyway.

"[P]-[Pronoun]'s gonna-!" He attempts to blurt out, only to be stopped by you.

"I won't."

You were untied at your wrists and ankles, allowing yourself to pull your legs up and rest your feet at the top of the table, propping your knees up. It made your stomach feel weird, but it felt kind of nose and felt like it was easing the pain. You wrapped your arms around your knees, looking around the room more. "What is this place?" You ask.

"It's a medical room."

"Huh.." You shrug it off. Your anxiety levels had died down and the more you actually think about it, this isn't the worst thing that's happened. Your life has been pretty fucked up and you have damaged relationships everywhere. Honestly, being around new people and being far away from others sounds not too bad right now. Not like anyone would care anyway.

The next few hours, you're introduced to everyone else at the Mansion. They've been so...unique and honestly, you're surprised some people and beings like them even exist. They were all equally surprised with how little fear you showed.

You actually got along with most of them.

The others have taken a liking to you and hope you hang around longer. Alone in the living room, you, Jeff, Jack, and others sit at the couches and chairs in the living room, chatting away and getting to know them as they get to know you.

You feel Jeff wrap his arms around you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead, making your heart skip a beat.

You found out Jeff has been stalking you for months at a time. Watching your every move, eliminating anyone in the way. Huh, no wonder so many people in your life kept disappearing. You...couldn't bring yourself to be upset or scared, let alone even sad. You felt kind of at ease.

And far from uncomfortable. Someone loved you. Maybe more than they should, but they love you.

You didn't even feel upset at the fact Jeff had murdered that friend earlier. I mean, you just met the guy, so he wasn't even a 'friend'? So you paid no mind to it.

If anything, you really liked the thrill of someone being obsessed with you. A serial killer being so infatuated with you. He could be so protective of you and get rid of anyone you asked him to! There's is an advantage here. You knew he could snap and probably kill you intentionally or unintentionally, but you didn't mind. You really had no one else, technically speaking. No one that really cared. Not as much as he did.

Maybe he isn't so bad.

[ihaveafandom-problem554]

Your kid Muzan post is really adorable. Can we see more of his friendship with Nakime. (Also I like to think kid Muzan is still shorter than most of the demons , even as a child). I really hope child Nakime is doing okay. (since you said her parents don't take care of her like Muzan's caretaker)

Child Muzan being shorter than Nakmie is something I did not know I needed.

○■○■○■○■○■○■○■○■○■○■○

I'm going to start off with how they became friends then just give off a couple headcanons on how their friendship escalates.

●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●

"Muzan... Look at me." You told a very pissy Muzan. He slowly faced you with a glare, then proceeded to scoff, roll his eyes, and look back to the side with his arms crossed.

He's just started school 3 months ago and has still refused to make friends with anybody. Instead, decided to insult everyone, claiming their a much lower rank than him.

You sighed in disappointment. "Muzan don't be rude, give it a try! You'll like it, trust me." You try your best to convince him while cupping one side of his cheek. In response, groaned and pushed your hand away.

You sigh again. "At least try talking to someone, Ok? Just a small conversation with someone. You don't even need to act like you like it."

He slowly looked back at you. His glare easing slightly. ".....I can't believe your making me do this" He groaned, giving in to the tourtures act your putting him through. You smile and gently pat his head, "Thank you, honey... Say bye to Rui."

Muzan reached his hands out to grab his younger brother.

"Rui, I am terribly sorry that I have to leave you once again. I promise when I get back I'll make it up to you. Ok?"

"...ba..ba.."

"I will be back soon. Get plenty of rest.... I'll see you at home [Name]"

"Have fun Muzan!"

" Don't tell me that.." Muzan sneered, but you've already walk off the school's premises, to hear anything.

Muzan sighed angrily and looked at all of his classmates. Why must they force me to befriend these idiots. I don't have time for any of these fools.

He looked about in disgust. Some kids were playing with the mud, not really caring if they got it on their uniform, some were playing with dolls, monster trucks, rocks, others were picking there nose, and some kid pushed a girl face first in the mud.

Muzan shivered in pure disgust. Why am I forced to do this trousers work? All these imbeciles don't even have the right to look at me? And yet that [pronoun/gender/ Name] what's me to become "Friends" with one them. *scoffs* I'm disappointed.

As Muzan ranted on to himself about how dumb everyone else was compared to him, a slightly taller girl ran into one of the bushes right behind him.

Muzan heard the noise of ruffling bushes and decided to go investigate.

Why? He didn't know. His body just told him to.

Walking towards the bush, Muzan noticed it was shaking slightly faster every second. " Why are you in a bush?" Muzan asked.

A girl with long black hair that covered her eyes peaked her head up. After staring at the owner of the question, she shook her head in response.

"No? What do you mean no? You ran into the bush doing who knows what and you tell me no?"

The noirette hung her head and shook it again. "Your confusing me. Unless you what to get yelled at by a teacher, get bitten by a bug or get scarthes from the thorns, I suggest you get out of that bush" Muzan said coldly.

The black haired girl stared at the other black hair.

"Your the person who dresses as a girl every Wednesday and Thursday..."

Muzan stared back at the girl. He didn't know if it was a statement or an insult either way, he didn't like it when people randomly commented on his choice of clothing.

"And so what about it? If you have a problem with it, I couldn't give two-"

"You look very pretty in the kimono.." the girl titled her head down and played with her fingers. "I always wanted to tell you that, but I don't like to bother people..."

Muzan continued to stare at the girl. He was shocked. No one really did compliment him when he wore his woman outfit other than his caretaker and Rui, even though Rui could barely speak, he knew he liked his clothes. Not even the teachers here complemented his woman outfit. Instead he got ask, "Does your parents let you dress up like that in public?" Or they would have private chats with his Caretaker. Complements were a rare sighting to get for Muzan.

And now her.

"What's your name." Muzan demanded.

"A-ah, N-Nakime." She answered.

"Nakmie..Nakmie..N A K I M E..." Muzan repeated to himself so he wouldn't forget.

"W-What's your Name?-"

"How come I never seen you during classes?" Muzan demanded again.

"I sit in the back of the class. So I don't have to talk to anyone.." Nakime answered, barely above a whisper. Muzan hummed in response.

"So- uh whats your name-"

"What about lunch and recess? I don't see you there either."

"I- I sit behind a tree in the far corner. Can I finally get your name?-"

"One more question. Then you can ask me your difficult question."

"It isn't a difficult question, I just wanna know your name-"

"Why are you in a bush?"

Nakime stared at the no name boy standing in front of her. Not knowing what to say, she apologized.

"Huh? What- why are you-"

"Kids! Come inside! It's time for class!" A teacher yelled.

Muzan watched as Nakmie rushed to get her stuff and walk passed Muzan to go inside.

She was a strange girl.... But Muzan didn't see her as a disgusting idiot, she saw her as someone worthy of his time.

▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎

Ok Headcanon time!

- Muzan Dresses up in his kimono a lot more than usual

- Now and forever sits next to Nakmie and threatens anyone who dare disturbs their time together

- Nakime's bag is for some reason always heavy, so Muzan carries it for her so she can hold her biwa

- Muzan is the only person she trusts with her Biwa

- But Muzan rarely holds it in fear of losing that trust

- Muzan defends her when it comes to people bullying her or forcing her to talk

- Muzan has never seen Nakime cry until this one time and it scared the living shit out of him, he knew Nakime wasn't childish so if she was crying it was for a serious reason

- Nakime eventually did calm down and Muzan started to ask a whole lot of questions that Nakime refused to answer

- Muzan didn't give up but decided to put the subject aside for now

- So instead He asked Nakime

"How would you like to take this relationship further?"

"Relationship? You mean Friendship?"

"Samething. How would you like to take this Relationship.. or in your words 'Friendship' further? What do people usually do in situation?"

" W-Well they hang-out a lot, talk to each other, have sleepovers I guess-"

"What is that? A sleepover... is it exactly what the name protrades?"

"Yeah.. or it can be just small hang outs at each other's-"

"Nakime your coming over to my establishment and I will not be taking no for an answer."

- Nakime wasn't going to say no in the first place. She finally made a friend and she'll do whatever it takes to stay friends

- Even if it meant disobeying her parents wishes

- Just like what I said in the child Muzan headcanons, you were excited to see Muzan making a new friend

- You welcomed her home as if she was your new daughter

- But you couldn't adore her for long due to the fact Muzan already had plans with her

- Yes he showed Rui to Nakmie and yes Rui likes Nakmie

- Nakmie helps Muzan reach certain items he can't reach

- He hates the fact that he's short but is thankful so he doesn't have to ask someone else to help him

- Muzan later did figure out that Nakmie wasn't being taken cared of that well at home

- Some days Nakmie would come up to him and ask if she smells bad

- Or ask if she has bruises or cuts

- Or she would straight up run up to him on the verge of tears with a broken biwa in her hands

- He didn't want his favorite and only friend taken away so he did what had to be done

- He took her to his house everyday and no one could take her away from him

- Has grown attacted to Nakmie but he doesn't even know that he has

- Nakime has grown attached to Muzan and the rest of his Family and she is well aware of that

- You stopped questioning why Muzan's always bringing Nakmie with him she's like your second daughter now

•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》•》

This was so fun to do, it was so cute. Thank you so much for this ask!

[absolutepokemontrash]

All Demons are Entitled to Vacation Time (Because The Devildom Isn’t a Dystopia)

Part One (you are here!) Part Two Masterlist

Genuine friends in the Devildom were hard to come by, and the human exchange student had noticed that the brothers had been working her new friend to death, so she decided that the poor bastard needed some time off. The brothers agreed, but come to notice that they may have become a tad dependent on their makeshift assistant’s help.

(Just a heads up, this fic features an OC and my personal MC, so the MC will be using she/her pronouns, if you’re uncomfortable with that, no harm no foul, see you next fic. Anyway, enjoy Paimon’s mental breakdown and the boys being jerks!)

“Do you need anything else, Lord Lucifer?”

“Yes Paimon, get me a coffee.”

“The usual?”

“Yes, and do hurry up, I have work to do.”

Paimon quickly nodded and scampered out of Lucifer’s office at RAD. Sure it was after school, and sure Paimon had other things to do, and sure, he needed to sleep, but when the seven rulers of hell declare you their assistant, you be their fucking assistant.

“Oi!” Paimon felt the back of his uniform get balled up and he braced himself to be thrown into the nearest locker. “Pipsqueak, I need help with my homework.”

“H-hi Lord Mammon, s-sure, when do you want-”

“Nah nah nah,” Mammon spun Paimon around to face him. “I need, ‘help’ with my homework.”

The purple haired demon winced as he rummaged around his backpack and pulled out the assignment that Mammon had neglected to do. “R-remember to change up some words so-”

“I know how to copy homework! I’m not some dunce!” Mammon not so nicely set Paimon free from his 80s movie bully shirt grab and walked off. He whistled some made up tune and sporadically grumbled about finding his missing human.

Cheating on assignments was punishable by hanging from one’s thumbs in the glorified torture chamber known as the detention hall. Paimon had never been down there due to the fact that the place was reserved for the worst troublemakers, but he was pretty sure Mammon was familiar with it. Why didn’t he learn..?

While entranced with his thoughts of torture and mayhem, (see, Paimon could be a demon sometimes) Paimon didn’t notice the Avatar of Envy peeking around the nearest corner and nearly ran right into him.

“S-sorry Lord Leviathan!” Paimon sputtered. Levi’s head swivelled to Paimon as he began to stutter out a reply.

“G-good! You’re here! Get rid of them!”

“Get rid of who..?” Paimon looked around the corner and noticed a group of students just milling about and chatting. “Oh, right away sir.”

This wasn’t the first time Paimon had to do traffic control for Leviathan, and it wouldn’t be his last. He made up some bullshit lie about the hall needing to be cleaned and the students grumbled and slowly filed out. Once the hall was clear, Levi brushed past Paimon without even so much as a thank-you. He mumbled something about sending normies to deal with normies and disappeared down the hall.

Next up on his trip to get Lucifer a coffee, he ran into Satan, thankfully, he didn’t literally run into him.

“Ah, Paimon, give these to Barbatos, last time I saw him he was in the colosseum with Lord Diavolo.” Satan, barely even looking at the poor demon, slapped a huge stack of papers into his arms and strode down the hallway like he didn’t have a care in the world. Shit, and Paimon still had to get Lucifer coffee…

“Ah, there you are Paimon dear,” Paimon needed to muster up all his willpower to not openly roll his eyes as he met the gaze of the cheery Avatar of Lust.

“Lord Asmodeus,” Paimon said blankly. “How may I help you?”

“Take these to Majolish after you’re done… whatever you’re doing. On the double, sil vou plait!” Asmo shoved a massive stack of fabric on top of the paperwork Paimon was holding, causing him to stumble back a bit. “And if any of those touch this disgusting floor, I will personally claw each of your little freckles off your face.”

“Yes sir…” Paimon barely suppressed a growl as Asmo sashayed away from what one could barely call a conversation. As much as Paimon wanted to throw both the fabric and the paperwork into the nearest trash can, Paimon knew that both things could be recycled, and he also valued his life and his freckles.

Maybe he could run to the colosseum on the way to getting Lucifer’s coffee, torture two traitors with one tool, or however the saying goes! Paimon picked up his pace, his vision almost completely obscured by the massive pile of fabric. Despite nearly tripping twice, he made it to the kitchen, started up the coffee maker, then ran to the colosseum to drop off the paperwork.

“Mr. Barbatos?” Paimon’s call for the butler’s attention was cut off by a growl that sent shivers down his spine. Right in the centre of the colosseum the Fangol team was getting into “oh fuck” formation. That could only mean one thing and one thing only… oh no… Lord Beelzebub was hungry… really hungry… who didn’t order snacks?!

“Dammit dammit dammit…” Paimon squeaked as he shifted the paperwork and fabric and rummaged through his bag for his lunch. If Beel didn’t get some sustenance quickly he’d wreck the entire school! “L-Lord Beelzebub?! D-D-Do you want my luh-lunch? Sir?”

Beel’s head swung around to the sound of Paimon’s voice and before he could blink, the Avatar of Gluttony was towering over him. Paimon gulped and held out his lunch bag, and Beel snatched it up and ate the entire thing whole. Well… Paimon needed to replace the lunch bag anyway… and he could always eat later. His stomach growled pitifully. He had made the mistake of skipping lunch…

“Mmm… more.” Beel said, Paimon was still shaking in his designer knockoff school shoes.

“S-sorry, I don’t have anything e-else but the cafeteria has leftovers I think…” Paimon squeaked, Beel nodded and lumbered off towards the cafeteria, his hunger tantrum momentarily halted. Paimon breathed a quick sigh of relief before he heard the sound of someone stirring from a nap next to him.

“Mmph…” Belphegor shot Paimon a glare that only those who just woke up from an hour long nap could. “What took you so long?”

“M-my apologies, Lord Belphegor.” Paimon adjusted his glasses and frowned. “Pardon, but do you know where Mr. Barbatos is?”

“The kitchen, he was making something for Beel.”

Paimon had… he just left the kitchen… damn it. Paimon nodded in thanks and rushed towards the kitchen. The coffee was done, the paperwork was delivered, the fabric hadn’t touched the ground, and Paimon was on his way to give Lucifer his stupid- I mean needed beverage.

He limply pushed open the door to Lucifer’s office with his shoulder and placed the coffee on his desk. Lucifer didn’t look up from his paperwork and raised an eyebrow. “I did say quickly, didn’t I?”

Paimon bit down on his lip, a tic developed under his left eye and he clenched his fists until he felt blood trickle from his palms. “S-sorry, Lord Lucifer. I’ll do better next time, sir.”

“You’re dismissed, Paimon.”

The moment those words left Lucifer’s lips, Paimon turned on his heel and walked right out of the office. He was done, so tired and… and so angry! He just wanted to relax, he just wanted to relax. Paimon’s feet led him to the concert hall. Ah, he was supposed to be the president of the school’s band, not the student council’s resident doormat. He could just call on his undead parade and play some music… that always kept him calm.

His thoughts of relaxation were brought to an abrupt halt the moment Paimon felt the sting of recent magic in the air around the hallway that led to the concert hall. Oh no, please tell him there wasn’t a fight near the concert hall, please tell him-

Two of his band members were in their true forms and hurling insults at each other. Phenex and Eurynome were standing in the midst of a completely destroyed concert hall, the instruments were scattered around the room, dented and completely broken… the two brawling demons paused when they noticed Paimon at the door.

“Prez! You won’t believe this shit! Someone vandalized our stuff, and Phenex’s accusing me!”

“Paimon! You hafta believe me! I walked in and Eury was-”

Their voices had become unintelligible background noise, Paimon’s eyes were glued to the destroyed instruments, his instruments… he felt his shoulders shake and his chest begin to tighten. Why… why!? Why him?! Why today?! Paimon dropped the fabric and his backpack onto the ground and slowly dug his partially bloodied palms into his hair. To his absolute horror, he felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Don’t cry- Don’t cry! He can’t cry!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHGHGGHHHHH!” Paimon let out a screech like a wounded animal, he felt his true form beg to be released so he could wreak absolute havoc on everyone and everything in a mile radius, but he yanked down on his hair and brought himself back to reality.

“Paimon?” The demon in question slowly turned, the human exchange student herself awkwardly stood a few feet behind him, seeming to not be sure exactly what to do. “Are… are you okay..?”

“Y-yes…” Paimon mumbled, his fists began to shake. “Th-thank you Ms. Himiko but I’m fi-”

Paimon’s voice broke and Himiko fixed the other two demons behind him with a glare that could probably kill a man. “YOU TWO. Clean this up right now!”

Before he could react, Himiko pulled Paimon into an empty classroom and slammed the door behind her. “Pai, what happened? Do you need to sit down?”

“Nuh-ne-no! I-I-if i suh-sit down I’ll fu-fall aslee-eep…” Paimon awkwardly hiccuped. Trying to talk through the lump in his throat was proving to be very difficult.

“Paimon… do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Himiko’s voice was oddly gentle, almost sisterly in a way as she sat Paimon down in one of the desks in the room. “I’m here to listen.”

“Thanks Ms. Himiko… sorry…” and with that, Paimon began to explain.

———————

“BOYS!”

The scream of rage was punctuated by the slamming of the front door of the House of Lamentation and the angry clicking of heels going towards the living room. Six of the seven rulers of hell sat dead straight in their chairs, geez this little human had really whipped them good.

“Stupid human! Let go of my ear-yeeeeeeOW! Sorry! Sorry! Have mercy, tiny overlord-” Mammon was dragged into the living room by the ear and shoved onto one of the couches. She let her glare rest on each and every one of the demons before she spoke again.

“So, Asmo,” Himiko turned to Asmo with a calm smile, but the Avatar of Lust was anything but calm. “You think you’re too good to deliver your own fabric to the place where you work?”

“Uh… what are you talking about Himi?”

“Paimon! You told him to deliver your fabric to Majolish!” Himiko then turned to Mammon, who was already looking for an opportune time to bolt to the exit. “Mammon! You took his homework to copy, didn’t you!?”

“I-uh-”

“Satan!” Himiko stamped her foot and swivelled to glare at the relatively calm Avatar of Wrath. “You can’t just dump your paperwork on him like that!”

“Himiko-”

“CRAM IT!” Satan’s mouth clamped shut and he levelled an absolutely murderous glare at the human, but remained seated. “Levi! What the hell’s the matter with you!? Did anyone ever teach you that it’s polite to say THANK YOU?!”

Levi awkwardly shifted in his seat and sputtered out a barely intelligible reply, but Himiko was already turning to Beel and Belphie.

“Belphie! Beel! What the fuck were you two on during Fangol practice?!” Belphie grumpily lifted his head from his pillow and Beel mumbled out an apology. “Beel! You cannot just throw your hunger tantrums whenever you don’t have food handy, I thought you had enough common sense to realize that the kitchen wasn’t that far from the colosseum! And Belphie! Why didn’t you pack snacks for Beel like you were supposed to!?”

“Himiko why the fuck are you so upset about-”

“Shut UP.” Belphie was in the same boat as Satan in a matter of nanoseconds, the Avatar of Sloth rolled his eyes and went back to resting his head on his pillow.

“And you, Lucifer, the eldest and best of the bunch.” Himiko’s words were laced with enough poison to take down a fully grown grizzly bear as she stared down Lucifer with a glare cold enough to snuff out a fire. “I have one question: would it kill you to show some appreciation to the people who help you? A thank you? An appreciative nod? Or is your head rammed so far up your own ass you’ve forgotten basic courtesy?”

In a blink of an eye Lucifer was standing in front of Himiko. He was a good foot taller than her even in his human form, but she looked right back up at him with zero fear.

“Care to repeat that, Himiko?” Lucifer’s words were as sharp as a razor, he narrowed his eyes when Himiko didn’t even flinch. “If I were you, I’d choose your next words very carefully.”

“Or what?” Himiko asked, tilting her head slightly. “You’re going to try and kill me again?”

The room went completely still. It was so silent that they could hear Cerberus rustling around in the Underground Tomb. No one said a word as Himiko casually smoothed down her skirt. “You know what they say, third times the charm. Are you going to listen to me or are you going to explain to Diavolo why I’m a bloody smear on the wall?”

Lucifer held her gaze for a few more seconds, until he sighed and sat back down, still not breaking eye contact with the human. “What do you want, Himiko?”

“I want you all to give Paimon a week off, or, you pay him to be your actual assistant. Putting up with you boys’ crap should be a full paying job.” Himiko raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Give him a week off, live without him for a bit, and treat him nicer when he comes back. Unless of course, the seven rulers of hell can’t survive without their assistant?”

Lucifer bristled and crossed his arms. “…fine.”

———————

Sleep went by too quickly… way too quickly. Paimon rubbed his eyes and trudged through the hallway. Stupid mondays… stupid school… stupid Mammon… wait did Paimon say that out loud, because the Avatar of Greed and Lucifer himself were standing right in front of him.

“Sup pipsqueak.”

“Hello Paimon.”

Oh, Paimon must have fucked up bad somehow for the Avatar of Pride and the Avatar of Greed to have stopped him in the hallway. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. The sweet release of death was coming. But what exactly had Paimon done? Was talking to the human exchange student a punishable offence?!

“Lord Lucifer! Lord Mammon! Uh… how can I help you?” Paimon smiled nervously, at this point, nervous was his default state, so this was his normal smile.

“Ya can help us by handin’ over your lunch mon-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Mammon,” the signature clicking of Himiko’s heels on the stone floor alerted the three demons to her arrival before her voice did. “Stop being a douche.”

“We’re here to offer you a week off.” Lucifer ignored both Himiko and Mammon and kept his eyes fixed on Paimon. “Himiko noticed you were five seconds away from a stress induced heart attack so she campaigned for you to get some time off.”

“I-I-I’m fine, that’s very nice of you to offer but I’m coping well with my extra duties.”

Extra duties, also known as ‘nice things Paimon was doing for a group of demons he respected, which those demons then began to expect him to do all the damn time.’

“Paimon,” Himiko raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You’re left arm is shaking.”

Paimon silently cursed his stupid arm. “Those are normal shakes!”

“Fuck dude… I don’t even like ya and I want you to take a vacation.”

“Consider it less of an offer and more of an order.” Lucifer said sternly. “Take the week off and come back refreshed. Your school responsibilities will be waived during your time off, now shoo.”

Lucifer waved his hand and strode past him down the hallway. Geez, what a charmer.

“Have fun, Paimon!” Himiko gave him a wave before gesturing Mammon to follow her, class was starting soon after all.

“Th-thank you Ms. Himiko.” Paimon mumbled and began to turn to leave, but Mammon caught the back of his school coat. Huh, a goodbye locker shove perhaps?

“Before ya leave,” Mammon cooed. “What’re ya doin’ with my human?”

“I’m not doing… anything?” Paimon said truthfully.

“Plannin’ on doing anything?”

“N-no?”

“Are ya sure?” Mammon tilted his head, his eyes began to glow dangerously. “Not planning on trying anything?”

“No sir!” Paimon began to wave his hands in an attempt to communicate some extra ‘NO’. “N-not at all! Ms. Himiko’s just a friend!”

Mammon raised an eyebrow and Paimon felt his stomach drop right to the floor. Apparently talking to the human exchange student was a death sentence. Wasn’t the point of this exchange program for demons and humans to get to know each other???

“Really now? How’d you two get to talkin’?”

“I-I uh, she um…” Paimon stuttered. “She swore me to secrecy…”

After blinking a few times in surprise, Mammon dropped Paimon right to the floor. “Alrighty then, I’ll just ask ‘er myself.”

Mammon then sauntered away like nothing happened. Geez… Paimon silently made a wish that Himiko could swallow her pride and actually admit the reason the two became friends so Paimon wouldn’t end up getting his ass handed to him by the Avatar of Greed himself. What a shit way to go…

————

Himiko gave Mammon a glare that could wither roses the moment he began to pepper her with questions about her friendship with Paimon. Geez, couldn’t a lady have some friends who didn’t want to date her? Was that too much to ask?

She let out a sigh and looked around to make sure that she and Mammon were alone in her room and that there was no one walking around in the hallway outside. Good, nobody. “Mammon, Paimon and I exchange gardening tips.”

Mammon blinked a few times and debated pinching himself to see if he was dreaming. His mean little human liked something like gardening..? That was… that was… so fuckin’ adorable! “You… you like gardening..? Really Himi?”

Himiko’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment, which really hindered the effect of her scowl. “Yes. In case you didn’t know, the plants here are very different from the plants in the human world, and I miss having a garden, so,” she gestured to the window out into the HOL’s garden where Mammon noticed quite a few new flower bushes. He had to admit, they were really pretty.

“Oh, so you two aren’t smoochin’ or anything?”

“Mammon,” Himiko smirked and fluttered her eyelashes. “Just because you’re hopelessly in love with me doesn’t mean everyone else is~.”

————

The moment Paimon stepped foot into his apartment he collapsed onto the couch like a… like a… tired person. The man hadn’t had a proper staycation in almost a thousand years, give him a break.

When he was done being a lump on the couch, he looked up at his plants. He hadn’t properly been able to look at them for a while- shit almost all of them were dead. Perhaps Paimon should have invested in a nice garden of cacti instead of fussy water-needing plants. Oh well, he had things to worry about other than his failing garden. His apartment was also a complete mess. After defeating his chronic anxiety by going on a massive cleaning spree, Paimon decided that he had a hankering for some sweets. He ordered in from Madame Scream’s and collapsed back onto the couch.

His pastries arrived and he was fully prepared to dig in until- A knock on the door startled Paimon from his stress free thoughts and the demon rushed to answer the door. The familiar faces of Mephistopheles and Satan awaited him.

“Hey buddy!” Mephisto gave Paimon a friendly (and a little too hard) thwack on the shoulder and walked into the apartment. “I smell foooooooood!”

“Paimon,” Satan flashed a grin and a friendly nod.

“L-lord Satan,” Paimon nodded dumbly, after registering what he was seeing, he stepped aside and let Satan into the apartment, thank fuck he had cleaned it. “What are… what are you doing here? Do you need me to do anything?”

“No, no,” Satan waved Paimon off. “I heard you and Mephisto were trying to solve a mystery and I thought I’d offer my help.”

“Oh! Thank you!” Paimon sputtered, he then turned to his pie, that Mephisto was busily shovelling into his mouth. Mephistopheles gave Paimon and Satan a thumbs up.

“S’great Pai!” Mephisto laughed at his own pun.

The mystery Satan was referring to was the mystery of the vandalized instruments. Paimon had asked Mephisto to help look into it, he was the former president of the newspaper club and had a penchant for getting into trouble and finding people responsible for trouble. It was a last resort kind of thing, really, Mephisto and Paimon never really spoke outside of their few shared classes.

“O-okay, did you guys find anything out..? Do you need me to answer any questions?” Paimon asked, sitting down at his tiny dining table across from Mephisto and Satan.

“We didn’t find much out today, suspect, but we do have some things we’d like to know.” Mephisto pointed a pie-filling covered finger at Paimon. “How do we know it wasn’t you who vandalized the instruments?! I can see the headline now! ‘Band president vandalizes instruments, Mephistopheles hailed as hero and reinstated as newspaper club president!’ I love it!”

“E-eh?!” Paimon jumped backwards in his seat, nearly knocking himself right onto the floor. “Wh-what?! Why would I do that?”

“That’s what I wanna know!” Mephisto slammed his sticky hands down on the table and leaned across to look Paimon right in the face. “Why’d you do it?!”

Satan grabbed the back of Mephisto’s shirt and yanked him back into his seat and gave Paimon an apologetic look. Ah, good cop bad cop, that was the game they were playing.

“Paimon, do you have an alibi?” Satan asked, his tone measured. Paimon meekly nodded.

“Y-yes, technically my alibi is you and your brothers, sir… I was busy all day, and that morning was the last time I saw the instruments before they were wrecked.”

“Mmm, just as I thought,” Satan nodded. “Paimon, does the band have any enemies you know of?”

“N-no,” Paimon said on reflex. “Wait! Yeah… um… a few demons… I have a list…”

He quickly began to write out a list of names. For someone who seemed so meek and pathetic, he had made a lot of enemies… well, less a list of enemies and more of a list of people who found it fun to bother him.

Satan raised an eyebrow as he looked over the list. “Paimon, how?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“How does a high ranking demon like yourself have this many petty enemies that you haven’t dealt with yet?”

A shrug was all Paimon could give. He preferred not to hurt people due to petty grudges, which was not a very good trait for a demon to have. No wonder no one respected him…

Satan huffed and nodded to Mephisto. “Well, we’ll look into these leads. Try and have a nice week off, Paimon.”

—————

Day One:

Lucifer needed his coffee, he sat up in his chair and leaned over to look at the clock, 3:30 pm. Paimon should be- ah, right, Lucifer gave him the week off. No matter, he rose from his seat and prepared to get his own coffee. He was a strong independent demon who didn’t need an assistant thank you very much.

When he walked into the kitchen, he nearly choked on air when he saw the technological monstrosity that was the new coffee machine. It had to be new, he had gone into the kitchen all the time to make his own coffee, hadn’t he? No, Paimon had taken care of that for the past how many years..? Geez, when was the last time Lucifer actually had to walk into RAD’s kitchen?

It’s just a coffee machine, Lucifer reasoned, he’d be able to figure it out in no time.

Riddle him this, why did this infernal thing have so many buttons?! The machine let out an unhappy groan and Lucifer was tempted to repeat the sound himself. Stupid coffee machine… back in his day coffee was made with magic, sure it exhausted the person more but… that’s what the coffee’s for!

After about twenty minutes of nearly fruitless labour, Lucifer finally figured out how to get the machine to make coffee to his tastes. He’d throw the machine at the wall if it made him decaf…

Lucifer (eventually) returned to his office and his massive stack of paperwork with his hot mug of caffeinated salvation and sat back down at his desk. His mind began to wander back to the conversation he had with Himiko the day prior.

Had he forgotten basic courtesy? He had known Paimon longer than Himiko could probably comprehend, was Paimon always this willing to get walked over? Lucifer wracked his brain trying to find the answer. He grimaced when he thought back to his time as an angel, but even then, Paimon was the same. A constantly frazzled Dominion who fell from heaven only to end up a frazzled and even more anxious demon.

It was so odd, when they all first became demons, Paimon was one of the large amount who decided that the best way to figure out their new demonic identities was to cause complete and utter chaos. It was an embarrassment, really, but Diavolo knew that no one could get that number of newly turned demons under control without ripping apart the Devildom, so he sent them up to the human world. It was devastating for the humans, but Diavolo knew it was necessary to save his kingdom. While up in the human world, everyone’s powers were tested and the pecking order if you will, was established. Paimon was right near the top.

One of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, one that watched kingdoms burn for his amusement just mere days after falling from grace, had become nothing more than an assistant. When and why? That was what Lucifer was wondering.

Tsk, he didn’t have time to wonder about the motivations of his little fake assistant, he had way too much work to do. He downed his coffee and stared down his paperwork. He was going to do this himself, or collapse from exhaustion trying.

——————

Day 2:

Mammon mindlessly gnawed on his pencil as he stared down at his homework. He was stuck in the library at RAD and couldn’t go home until his stupid work was done. His human had gone off with Asmo to go shopping… dummy… not that he cared or anything…

He needed help, but the great Mammon didn’t grovel! Wait, yes he did. But he usually didn’t have to when it came to his homework. That little nerd Paimon was always down to let Mammon copy his homework. Sure, if Lucifer even dared to ask if Paimon had let Mammon copy his homework, the purple haired demon would sing like a canary. Stupid little snitch….

…Mammon could have really used that little snitch right then…

He searched his mind for anything to daydream about to distract himself from the lame homework. Ah! His human! He liked to think about his human. Her cute little smile… her deep dark eyes… her soft hair that tumbled over her shoulders… her dumb but still somehow cute little headband…

Not that he liked her or anything! Uggggghhhh… this was going to be a long ass study session…

——————

How did things get this way..?

Paimon was once again lying face down on his couch, apparently cleaning only temporarily staved off his mental illness. At least he was spiralling in a clean house…

His concert hall got completely wrecked and his status wasn’t a deterrent to the stupid vandals… Paimon could and had crushed kingdoms beneath his heel! He’d sown discord across entire countries! Humans and demons alike begged to have the privilege of his favour, and now, nothing. Paimon hugged his knees to his chest and tried to ignore the feeling of his glasses digging into the side of his face. The tightness in his chest and gut was indicative of one thing:

Guilt.

Paimon was guilty. After being called back to the Devildom and seeing what he had done to the human world, he felt the worst most roiling and disgusting sense of guilt. He was completely alone, if any other demon that went up there and did the things he did felt guilty about any of it, they were amazing at hiding it. He had been an angel just a few days before he went completely ballistic…

Was his behaviour for the past thousand years some sort of bullshit atonement for him? Tsk, he didn’t have time to give himself a therapy session. He needed to go to sleep. He earned it, after all.

——————

Day 3:

Levi absentmindedly tapped his phone screen, the colourful gacha game was completely failing to fully entrap his attention. Ugh… just get the daily rewards and log out…

A crowd of chattering students walked into the formerly empty classroom to sit and eat lunch. Stupid normies… whenever he had to show up to school he at least had the ability to eat lunch by himself.

It was Paimon’s doing, obviously. After hearing that Levi was having a tough time being at RAD, the demon took it upon himself to make Levi more comfortable. After the first few times, Levi enlisted him as his personal crowd disperser.

He often wandered the halls during lunch making sure everything was alright like the world’s most anxious hall monitor. Whenever Levi happened to notice the sound of Paimon’s feet pattering against the stone floor, it was usually followed by Paimon’s meek little voice telling some wandering students that the classroom was occupied.

Tsk, dumb normie on his dumb vacation. Levi huffed and slid his headphones on to drown out the sound of the other students talking.

Paimon needed to hurry up and get baaaaaaaaaaack…

—————

Day Four:

“Alright, the scene of the crime…” Satan placed his hands on his hips and looked around the concert hall. The Avatar of Wrath had let Mephisto loose on Phenex and Eurynome for questioning. Satan now had the crime scene all to himself for investigating.

Most of the instruments were dented and ruined, hm… maybe he should have viewed the crime scene earlier when it was fresher. Man… all the fictional detectives Satan knew of would be so disappointed in him. Not perturbed, Satan began to peruse the room and take it all in. Well, until Asmo broke down the door shouting his name.

“Saaaaaaaataaaaaaaan!”

“I’m right here, Asmo, you don’t need to yell.” Satan turned and gave him an annoyed look. Asmo only beamed and clapped his hands together.

“No need to be so snide, Satan dear, I’m gracing you with my presence!” Asmo cartoonishly pouted as he almost skipped towards Satan. He looped his arm around Satan’s and began to try and pull him out of the room. “Come on! We’re going to have a self care day!”

“No, no we’re not.” Satan gently removed Asmo’s arm from his and shook his head. “I’m trying to solve a mystery, here.”

“Really?” Asmo raised an eyebrow and absentmindedly twirled a lock of hair with his finger. “Why? Isn’t this Paimon’s business?”

“Yeah, but Paimon asked Mephisto for help and Mephisto asked me, so here I am.” Seeing that Asmo wasn’t convinced, Satan dragged a hand down his face and prayed to the Demon King that his gossip of a brother could keep a secret. “There are no exams to study for, my favourite detective book series just ended, and Lucifer just rehomed a cat I took in. I have nothing else to do and I’m bored as hell.”

Asmo wrinkled his nose, then shrugged and nodded. “Eh, legit enough for me. I’ll help too!”

The two somewhat carefully rummaged around the room, searching for literally any kind of evidence that wasn’t destroyed in the fight between Phenex and Eury.

“Tada~ evidence!” So quickly? Satan had to stop himself from sighing as he turned to face his brother. Asmo proudly presented what looked like a neon orange fake nail, Satan crossed his arms and gave his brother a deadpan stare.

“Groundbreaking.”

“Satan, for a detective you can be really dense sometimes, I swear.” Asmo huffed and fixed his hair. “People who play musical instruments keep their nails short. Fake nails like these are expensive and are stuck onto the actual nail and sealed with magic. This obviously came off by accident, and it doesn’t belong to some band kid.”

“It belongs to the culprit then…” Satan murmured, digging through his pockets for his list of suspects. “Asmo, tell me, does anyone on this list have these kinds of nails?”

Asmo scanned the list of suspects and hummed to himself before snapping his fingers and grinning. “Only Amii would wear something as garish as that.”

Ah, one of RAD’s resident assholes. Amii and their partner in crime, Murmur, were frequent visitors to the detention hall due to their rampant idiocy. Their combined ability to learn absolutely nothing from their past punishments rivalled Mammon’s, and that was saying something because Mammon had gotten strung up at least once a month for the past two thousand years.

So, the little bastards had taken to bothering Paimon recently… perfect! Mystery solved!

Satan scratched his chin, then grinned. “I think we’ve found our culprits. Thanks Asmo, you were a real help.”

“It’s no problem Satan, really, you can repay me by keeping me company while we both have a nice spa day.”

————

Spending time rethinking one’s entire life and trying to cultivate a garden really sapped up Paimon’s energy. He wasn’t lying down on the couch this time though, his new breakdown spot was his kitchen table.

As he expressed to himself multiple times, he was sick and tired of being walked over, he may have hated being a demon, but he still was one. A damn high ranking one at that! He wasn’t some midranking Dominion anymore! He should be treated with basic respect!

The sudden ringing of his phone jolted him from his mini identity/respect crisis and he fumbled to pick it up.

“H-hello?”

“Paimon, you’ll be pleased to know that I have found the culprits.” Satan’s voice rang out from the phone and Paimon let out a sigh of relief. “Though, Amii and Murmur aren’t on school property at the moment.”

“Y-yeah…” Paimon was too emotionally drained to act surprised. “I think they’re on an overnight trip or something… they’ll be back on Monday.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I uh… I checked the budget documents you sent out at the start of the year to make sure no one was skimming funds again…” Paimon pursed his lips and sighed. “Remember what happened last year? I wanted to make sure Mammon didn’t cause you any extra trouble.”

“Ah, right.” Satan said. “Thanks for that.”

A genuine thank you! Paimon’s eyes practically sparkled as he nodded enthusiastically before realizing Satan couldn’t technically see him. “Y-you’re welcome!”

“So, I know it’s your club but this is also RAD property and I assume you know how much musical instruments are to replace…”

“Yeah… rest assured, I’ll deal with those two.” Paimon mumbled.

“Hm, I’d like to be there, if you don’t mind.”

You see, that was code for ‘I’m going to watch you to make sure you’re not just going to give them a lecture on not hurting other people’s feelings.’

“It’s no problem, Lord Satan.” Paimon said. “Come by if you have the time after school. I’ll put on a show.”

——————

Day Five:

Asmo was practically skipping through RAD’s hallways like he was following the yellow brick road or something. What had him so chipper? Some of his friends in the sewing club had agreed to help him sew some of his clothing designs and make them legitimately wearable! EEEEEEEE! He was so excited! He threw open the doors to the club and everyone… did not shower him with affection and praise. Pardon but what was this bullshit?

“Sorry Lord Asmodeus… but we’re in a bit of a crisis. Some of the sewing machines broke and we don’t have any way to replace them right now.” One of the club members said.

“How’d this even happen?!” Asmo huffed. “The sewing club never shuts down! There was a miniature hurricane going through RAD about a century ago and literally none of you skipped your club meeting!”

“W-well, normally we’d call Paimon to order some new machines or call a repairman because the student council usually gets really busy around this time of day…”

“UGH.” Asmo threw his head back and dramatically groaned. “Are there any machines in here that actually work?”

“Y-yes, about three of them…”

The demon pointed to three in the back and Asmo stomped over to begin sewing the one outfit he could do. He had bought nice fabrics and everything…

Asmo pulled out his sketch of the design, he smiled and set it down next to the sewing machine. He remembered how to use these… right?

‘Paimon usually fixes this’ ‘Paimon deserves a break’ ‘Paimon Paimon Paimon’ Asmo had to stop himself from openly rolling his eyes whenever that little pipsqueak’s name was mentioned. The Avatar of Lust had the stinking suspicion that the bespectacled demon wasn’t particularly fond of him. Everyone loved Asmo, that was a known fact, but Paimon had a funny way of showing it.

He never went exactly out of his way to help Asmo with anything. If Asmo requested help, it was always met with a cold ‘yes lord Asmodeus’. Hmph, Asmo had to hold back a bit of a smirk as a thought crept into his mind.

Paimon’s behaviour was truly a testament to how hard the Avatar of Lust is to get over~.

—————

Ready? Okay! The first step to becoming a respected demon was fixing the way he was perceived by others, and people mainly made their judgements on outward appearances.

Paimon was going to fix his self image! No more dorky glasses! Wait… he couldn’t see… damn. Okay, get contact lenses instead! Aaaaaaand he was out of those. New plan, the dorky glasses were staying on for the time being!

Hmmm… maybe he should flatten down his weird little crescent moon shaped Ahoge… Yeah, not going to happen. His hair kept flying right back up no matter how much hairspray he used.

Looking into his bathroom mirror, Paimon wondered how long it had been since he actually fussed over his appearance. 400… 500 years? Geez, that lined up awfully well with the last time he had been on a date… and that ‘relationship’ did not end well.

Oh well, he looked… well he looked like himself. That was fine. He just needed to fix his posture really quick-

The audible crack of Paimon’s spine may have scared his neighbour’s cat and caused the neighbour on his other side to wonder why their hellhound started barking, but at least he was standing up straight again. It was nice not to be slouched forward like the world’s most nervous Igor. Paimon stretched and shook out his shoulders. Huh, he forgot he was supposed to be 5’7 and not 5’5. He should have done this a while ago.

——————

The Weekend:

School was out for the next two days but the student council was still in the stupid building. Lord Diavolo had decided that the school year needed yet another festival week and it was up to the student council to budget, manage, and plan this entire thing, and to top off the sundae of stress, two of their members were missing.

Beel and Belphie were on the complete opposite side of the school, and their dear little human was having a hell of a time dragging them to the meeting. This was Himiko’s reward for not being an asshole.

“Beel, for the love of all things good in the world, I’m sure there will be snacks provided at the meeting, now get your face out of the fridge.” The long suffering Himiko practically begged. The attic nap club were stuck in the cafeteria despite the borderline desperate efforts of the human.

“You can’t know that for sure…” Beel sighed mournfully before he took another bite of whatever eldritch horror those demons called food. “Paimon or Barbatos would usually bring the snacks and neither of them are here…”

Foolishly hoping that the younger of the two twins would be able to do something, Himiko turned to Belphie, who was passed out with his head down on a cafeteria table.

“Belphie, wake up and help me get Beel out of the cafeteria.”

“No. I am asleep.”

“Belphie I swear-”

“Sh. Sleep.”

Beel usually carried Belphie’s unconscious ass to those stupid meetings because Beel knew for a fact there’d be snacks there, and now neither twin would move from the cafeteria. Great. Time to use the pacts Himiko worked so hard to obtain.

This. This was what it was like to be the one master to rule them all. It was glorified babysitting.

“BOTH OF YOU HAUL ASS TO THE ASSEMBLY HALL RIGHT NOW. BRING THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE WITH YOU.”

Monday couldn’t come soon enough…

——————

To be concluded!

Author’s Note: Not too satisfied with this one, but honestly when am I ever satisfied with my own writing? Pai will go politely apeshit next part I promise

TFW you’re royalty and the local brown-noser goes on vacation and you now have no one to boss around :/ totally relatable right guys?

[mizunetzu]

I recommend you read this right after the first part. Enjoy <3

Tag: @inlittleways

——————

Shinsou x reader - Love Trigger (pt. 2)

⚠️warnings - sad shinsou :(

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find the first part here!

——————

“You’re in love.”

It made perfect sense. Even if he denied it then, he couldn’t deny it now. He couldn’t decide if he fell in love with the lovey-dovey illusions of the (h/c) haired boy plaguing his mind, or if he wanted him even before that. Even so, one fact was abundantly clear.

He was so desperately in love with (L/n) (Y/n) and he made the biggest mistake of letting him slip through his fingers. It was like tasting the sweet fruit of affection, just to have it ripped away for your stupid actions.

Aizawa coughed into his elbow, trying to get Shinsous attention. He was staring devastatingly at the ground for far too long now, and he wanted to get back on his lunch break. Shinsou slowly raised his eyes, his legs following and bringing himself up to his feet.

“I...gotta go do something. Thanks.” He stumbled out of the faulty room, leaving two confused teachers and a very tired homeless looking man.

Once Shinsou closed the door to the teachers office, he started sprinting. He heard the distant shouts of the uptight blue haired boy from class 1-A, and even passed by his very confused friend. They all sounded like gibberish to him.

He stopped infront of the doors to the 1-H classroom. He didn’t know much about Hatsukoi, but he knew that she ate lunch in her class with her classmates every lunch.

He slammed open the door, startling the 3 girls, as he stomped his way over to the girl in question. She had her feet propped up in the table, and was twirling around a heart shaped cookie in her fingers.

“Deactivate your quirk.”

No response. Hatsukoi wouldn’t talk to him anymore, he figured she knew he was going to brainwash her into deactivating. Hatsukoi took a bite out of her cookie.

Her cockiness was starting to really piss him off. He was tired of have such sweet, vivid hallucinations of (y/n), just to be brought back to the fact he ruined something potentially beautiful. He slammed his fists on the table, making the two girls beside her yelp in suprise.

“DEACTIVATE YOUR FUCKING QUIRK! STOP GIVING ME GAY ASS DREAMS ABOUT (L/N)! I’M SO SICK OF IT!”

Hatsukoi stifled a snicker, and scribbled something on a sturdy napkin. She drew a tiny heart on the corner, then held it up with her bright pink nails. Shinsous heart stopped.

‘I never said I could specify what or who you dream about. Nor what emotion you feel. You did that all by yourself. <3’

Shinsous mouth went slack, ears reddening in embarrassment. Her two friends started giggling at his expression, while Hatsukoi held her signature, bad bitch grin. She flipped the napkin on its backside, and scribbled something else on it.

Shinsous throat closed up.

‘He sits on the rooftop at lunch now. On the third bench on the 2nd wing. Good luck xoxo <3’

He took the napkin, shoved it quickly down his pocket, and bolted out of the classroom. He heard Hatsukoi yell out a “bye bye~!”. He could’ve brainwashed her then, but he had to get his priorities straight.

He dashed up the stairs leading up to the rooftop. Even if (y/n) didn’t love him back, he just needed him in his life. It didn’t matter. He just wanted him to be by his side a little longer.

His legs stopped him in front of the rooftops door. He drew his hand to reach for the doorknob, but that froze aswell. He grit his teeth, yelling at himself to fucking move, but his body remained in place.

His legs felt like jelly. His body was covered in a cold sweat, and butterflies emerged from his stomach. He was nervous. Right on the other side of this door was the very boy he’d been having such intimate hallucinations about. He hopes it won’t get in the way of apolo-

The door swung open before he could react. A figure bumped into him, stumbling back and holding his head with a frown.

It was (Y/n). Oh god, it was so nice to see him up close. Even his frown looked angelic, and his hands looked so soft. The one thing that irked Shinsou though, was that the bento he was clutching was wrapped in a white cloth, instead of his usual, purple one. It was like him telling him that he didn’t need him anymore. It hurt way more that it should’ve.

(Y/n) broke into a cold sweat, and waved awkwardly. “I-hey...Shinsou...”

His voice dripped with honey. Without thinking, Shinsou grabbed onto (Y/n’s) arm and yanked him into the rooftop. All sense of rationality flew out the window.

‘People and their stupid emotions is what makes them idiots.’

Shouts of protest emitted from the (H/c) haired male, but Shinsou kept dragging him. Hell, even him shouting at him sounded heavenly.

‘They think with their feet instead of their head.’

“Shinsou-stop!” Shinsou ignored him, and cornered him onto a wall. He pressed his hand onto the smooth surface, using his other hand to hold one of (Y/n’s) wrists. His skin was so warm.

‘Sure I appreciate people who think I’m attractive. If it feels good, that’s ok. That’s all.’

(Y/n) squirmed and wriggled under Shinsous grasp, yelling at him to stop and using his white-cloth bento box to try and push him away.

‘Instead they cry and cling onto me, it’s seriously annoying.’

Shinsou scowled and ripped the lunchbox away from (y/n’s) free hand. He unwrapped the ugly white cloth, and ripped it to shreds, tossing aside the bare lunch box.

“Hey! Why’d you do that! S-stop it!” (Y/n) pushed at Shinsous chest, grasping at his tie.

‘I can’t understand that sensibility.’

“...why are you stopping me?”

Both his and (y/n’s) movements stopped. It was like pressing pause on a YouTube video. Shinsou had a look of desperation, one that made even (Y/n) feel bad.

Shinsous eyes watered involuntarily. “You..you would always complain when I wasn’t with you, so why is it any different now?!”

(Y/n’s) eyes softened. Shinsou was quiet for a moment, (y/n’s) pitiful gaze suddenly becoming too much to bear. He grasped the fabric of his grey blazer and pushed him up against the wall.

“Stop looking at me like that! S-say something! What do you want me to do? Aren’t we friends?!”

The purple haired boys voice cracked with every other word, tears falling freely down his hot cheeks. (Y/n’s) eyes widened, but he continued to stay silent.

“...I’m not leaving.” Shinsous voice was barely above a whisper, as if any louder he’d break down crying. “Y-You’re the one who can’t befriend people correctly.”

Shinsou cast his head down, tears flinging and cascading in the air. He gripped (y/n’s) blazer tighter. “Y-you’re...you’re the one who clings to me and sticks to me like glue...”

Shinsou brought his head up, suddenly pulling (y/n’s) blazer towards him in the process.

“SO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!”

Shinsou brought the boy into a hug, clutching onto (y/n) like a lifeline. (Y/n) placed a hand on Shinsous shoulder. “Shinsou...”

“I’m not leaving.” Shinsou squeezed him tighter, furrowing his brows together. “I’m never gonna. Even if you grow uninterested in me, ev-even if you hate me, I’m not leaving!”

Shinsous voice was raspy with tears. “So don’t hate me...please I-I can’t...”

A hand placed itself on the crying boys waist, followed by two arms wrapping themselves snug against his waist.

“...why do you say ‘hate?’, Hitoshi-kun?”

Shinsou looked up. He called him by his first name for the first time in a while. He broke the hug, choosing instead to rest his hands on (y/n’s) shoulders. He tentatively wiped his face with his sleeve. ”You...you started ignoring me and avoiding m-“

“That’s not it!” (Y/n) looked worried, grasping Shinsous hands and squeezing them tightly. “At first, i was going to give you a day before I’d ‘bother’ you again so you wouldn’t hate me, but then I caught a really bad cold!” Shinsous eyebrows unfurled, his expression changing from despair to realization.

“Hitoshi-kun is...very precious to me a-and I didn’t want you to get sick! I’m sorry for avoiding you...please don’t cry...”

“...god, if you were sick you should stayed home...idiot...” (Y/n) brought a hand to his cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had freshly rolled down the males face. Shinsou cupped his hand, nuzzling into the warmth with his face. “I’m sorry, Hitoshi-kun.”

“Don’t apologize, please it’s-it’s my fault...I’m sorry, I won’t say stupid stuff like that again...”

(Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, when Shinsous eyes blared pink once more. However, this time, his eyes didn’t conjure up a fuzzy illusion of (y/n).

Instead, his mouth began to move on its own.

“I love you.”

The pink faded back into its normal purple color, as the two boy stood there in silence. Shinsou slapped a hand over his mouth, all the color draining from his face. If this was what ruined their friendship after he just got it back...

“I...”

“You don’t need to say anything, I said it on accident I’m so-“

(Y/n) buried himself into Shinsous shoulder. He brought his head up to Shinsous ear, and whispered with a smile,

“I love you too.”

—————

The lunch bell rang, cutting off the teacher and sending a chill down Shinsous spine.

He was in the middle of packing up when his friend stopped by his desk. “Ne, ne, you seem happy today.”

Truth be told, Shinsou was. But his face was harboring it’s neutral frown, so he was honestly confused as to how he could tell. Nonetheless, he sheepishly scratched at the back of his head.

“Well, I have a date today. I’m kinda excited,”

“Hold on a second!” His friend stared animatedly at the boy. “You? Person who rejected about 100 confessions, has a date?”

“Yea. What about it?” He walked up to the trash can and dropped a broken pencil inside, his friend flocking to him.

“Nothing nothing, who is it?!”

“Uh-I’m meeting up with them for lunch, so you can come see if you’d like.”

“Awesome!” They stepped out the door, immediately being swarmed by a boy with messy, (h/c) hair.

“Good afternoon, Hitoshi-kun!” (Y/n) wrapped his arms around Shinsou neck, burrowing his head into the crook of his shoulder. Shinsous friend was about to say something, when a Shinsou dipped down and kissed (y/n) on the forehead.

His friends jaw dropped to the floor. “I-Huh?! WAIT! WAIT! SHINSOU, I DIDN’T KNOW YOUR TASTES RAN IN THAT DIRECTION?!”

“To be honest I didn’t either,” Shinsou lazily wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist, resting his cheek on (y/n’s) head and facing his friend. “Well, see you.”

The two walked away from Shinsous friend, hand in hand. (Y/n’s) face lit up, suddenly turning to Shinsou.

“Oh! By the way,” he reached into his blazer, pulling out a bento box with purple cloth and blue kitty cats. “Do you like it? It’s cute, right?Cute like my super hot handsome boyfriend~”

Shinsou blushed. “Shut up...oh, by the way, why did you have a white cloth on your bento that one time?”

“Ah. My mom said I used this one too much, and she made me wash it and stuff. It was wet before I went to school so I had to use the white one. Which you ripped by the way.”

Sweat formed on the purple haired males brow. “W-wait, so you didn’t like, throw it away because you hated me or something?”

(Y/n) tilted his head to the side. “Why would I hate you? And throw away a perfectly good wrap? It’s just a piece of cloth.”

Shinsou flushed red with embarrassment. He pinched his laughing boyfriends cheeks, mumbling something inaudible. He really overthought it.

But then again, he overthought a lot of things.

——————

Ahahshshsj

[laurafett]

Unfamiliar Fruit

PART TWO

Friends to lovers, sex pollen Boba Fett x f reader

Words: 6k

- You and Boba are guests in a palace on a different planet. The King serves you some strange food, with the intention of doing both of you a favour -

No mentions of pronouns, hair or skin color, sexuality. Minors, do NOT interact!!

Warnings: smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 18+), oral (m and f), face fucking, spit, cumplay, fingering, choking, slight innocent kink, slapping, degradation and praise kink, mirror sex

______________________________________________________________

With one hand, he pulled the door close behind him. A sigh escaped him while he looked at the maid in front of him. She was wearing something more casual this time, what showed that she also got caught off guard with the message. She waved her hand to signal him to follow her.

“Again, I'm really sorry. I know that this is probably a very bad time, but we wouldn't call you if it wasn't necessary. Also, no one answered when I knocked at your door, so I figured you were with your partner.” Her steps were big while she walked him to the communication center.

“It's not your fault. No need to apologize.” A hand ran over the bounty hunters face. It was hard for him to keep up with the woman in front of him. His erection was still very present and the pain made his legs ache with every new step.

He hadn't cum yet. When he touched himself and heard your orgasm through the comlink he thought he would, but then you said those words. Said you wanted him to touch you. His hand stopped in the second the last word left your mouth.

At first, he thought he was imagining things but he didn't. He heard your voice so loud and clear, the words repeated themselves in his head over and over again.

Never ever, in his entire time knowing you, would he have thought you liked him in the same way he does. But right now, a little spark of hope made its way into his heart. Sure, you were in ecstasy and still reeling from the affects of the fruit , but he would have been damned if he didn't even try to find out if you really meant what you said. And he did. Thank the Maker.

“How are the symptoms going so far? You don't look too bad but your partner?” Her questions cut through his thoughts. Boba drew his eyebrows together in confusion.

The woman's head turned around to look at him, after he stayed silent. “You know, from the fruits.”

“He knew what they were going to do to us?”

She laughed a little and looked back into the direction she was walking.

“Sure he did. He actually wanted to do you a favor after being away from your 'partner' for so long.”

His eyes widened at her words. This was what this all was about? The King thought you two were in a relationship? “Me and my partner are not together in that way. Why did he assume this?”

Her figure stopped for a second and turned back. The man could see the surprise in her blue eyes. “You two are not- Oh, Maker.” She cut herself off and thought about something. “We... we thought you two were... Oh no. I'm so sorry.”

Sorrowful eyes looked up at him.

“It was just... the way you talked about your partner and the way you two looked at each other... We really thought the two of you are in a relationship, that's why The King decided to get you those fruits.”

Her hands started to shake and he could see that her eyes started to tear up. Today was really not the day he wanted to deal with this.

“It's alright. Forget about it. Just take me to the call with my other partner.”

The maid nodded and started walking again. Both of them stayed silent for the rest of the walk. Boba was confused. Were his feelings for you so obvious that the King really thought you two had a romantic bonding? He told him about you, but he couldn't recall what exactly he said about you. Probably not much, after all of this was business.

When the two arrived at the communication system the woman walked away to give him some privacy. Fennec's face was simmering as a blues light in front of him as he approached the holograph in front of him.

“What's wrong?” His voice was annoyed. He didn't want to be here, he wanted to go back to you and finally do what he was wishing for, for so many nights.

“Hello to you too. I see you don't even wear your armor around here, it seems like you got comfortable.”

Boba rolled his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. He wasn't in the mood for this banthashit right now. “Just tell what you need. I don't have much time.”

“Busy, huh? I can see that.” Even though Fennec was just a hologram he saw that her eyes wandered down his body. A smirk played around her lips.

He realized that his whole body was on display for her and stepped closer to her face, covering everything underneath his shoulders.

“Fennec.” He sighed.

A light chuckle fell from her mouth. “Alright, alright. Do you remember the guy you made a contract with two months ago?”

The man brought his hand up over his mouth and thought for a second. His eyes wandered back to Fennec, the look in them telling her he had no idea.

Boba was good in what he did, he has always been. He kept track of the people he talked to, noted all of his partners down, had all the contracts sorted, he knew what he was doing. Just, in this moment he couldn't focus. It was hard for him to stand upright and follow Fennec's words.

“Great.” Her words drowned in sarcasm. “Kero Raff. The Twi'lek from Coruscant. You made a contract with him about the slaves on Tatooine. Some of your men would free them and he would take care of them when they arrive at his base. Remember?” He nodded. “Well, he isn't happy about the money we sent him, he wants more or he's out. He's wants a response, or he will hop of today.”

“How much more?” He leaned his hip against the table behind him. His intention was to finish this as fast as possible, not wanting to waste any more time.

“That's the problem. Wait a second I wrote down some calculations.”

Boba frowned and rubbed his eyes. This couldn't be real.

You were laying on your bed again, sweaty and shivering at the same time. The tears stopped some time ago but you were still not able to control your breathing properly. One of your hands was between your legs, trying to get another orgasm out of you but it just didn't work.

Blood was pumping quickly through your veins, the adrenaline making your body buzz. Every muscle was tense, like you were about to have the worst cramps in your life. The fingers in your wet cunt hurt from moving but you didn't stop, not wanting the pain to become even worse.

Your fingers slipped back inside your dripping hole. You grew even more wet with every passing second, you were sure the sheets under you were already soaked too. With a fast tempo you wanted to force yourself to have another climax, but without Boba talking to you, it felt like it was impossible.

His voice was like a song stuck in your head and you listened to it on repeat. The little pantings during his sentences, sounding like he forgot how to breath normally. Maker, nobody did to you what he did to you with only talking. Beside the fact that you fell for him a long time ago, his words were doing things to you you couldn't describe. There was something so arousing about him you weren't able to point out.

Maybe it was the fact that he told you that he wanted you, for quite some time now. You still debated with yourself if his confession was real or just something you made up in your head. Boba wasn't someone to talk about personal stuff. He rarely did it, even when it came to Fennec or you.

Your eyes squinted shut when you felt just the smallest amount of heat rising in your lower stomach. Trying to focus on the picture of Boba's head between your legs in your mind, you brought your second hand down to your core to start rubbing your clit.

Whispering his name, you did what he told you when you two masturbated on the comlink together. Imagining it was him, his hands inside of you and his dark brown eyes locked with yours. The movements of your hands got sloppier and finally you felt yourself getting close.

You recalled the conversation with him, replayed the way he called you 'Princess' and 'Little one' over and over again until you pushed yourself enough to let go. Silent moans filled the room and your body arched up. You felt yourself clenching around your fingers, while you rode out the light aftershocks.

This orgasm wasn't even close to the first one you had, way too weak and less helpful than the one you had with Boba guiding you through it.

You couldn't tell if the pain got less or if you just got numb after this amount of time. Both hands fell beside your head, not being able to keep them moving without getting a cramp. If Boba wouldn't come back soon, you would have to think about other options to get rid of the pain and to be honest the best idea you had by now was jumping off the damn balcony.

The bounty hunter was furious. They managed to build up a connection to the man and now he had to watch Fennec and Kero arguing. Boba suggested to just give him the money he asked for but his partner tried to talk him out of it. He couldn't tell how long this discussion was already going, but he sure knew that he was beyond pissed and fed up. His body was slightly shaking and he didn't know if it was because of the anger or the pain that still flowed through him.

“Enough!” He screamed at the two holograms in front of him. Both pairs of eyes looked at him, waiting for what he had to say. “I don't have the time nor do I have the nerve to keep listening to you two. Kero, I will give you twice as much credits if  that's what you want.”

The Twi'lek with the light green skin started smirking and nodded. “This sounds like a fair deal.”

“Boba! What the hell?” Fennec protested against the man.

“Great. Fennec, write it down in my books. We will see each other soon.” And with that, he broke the connection and let out a deep sigh. He rubbed his hands over his head before he turned to leave the room.

The maid that led him here was still standing in the long corridor they walked through before. She smiled weakly at him and started walking him back to his chambers. Not a single word was spoken on the way back and this time it was Boba setting the pace, so she had to keep up.

His head was full and empty at the same time. He couldn't keep his thoughts away from you now that you were even closer to him than before. With every step closer to your room, his blood started to pump faster and his cock twitched at just the mere thought of you.

The two arrived back at the corridor where she picked him up some time ago. “Thank you.”

He said silent with his eyes locked to the door of your quarters.

The woman nodded and was about to walk away, when the bounty hunter snatched her arm to stop her. “It doesn't matter what happens or whoever may call tonight. I wish no further distribution.”

She nodded a second time..

“Yes, sir. I won't let it happen.” And with those last words she was gone. Boba's look fell on your door again and he rushed into its direction. He was about to open the entrance when angst made its way into his head.

He was gone for quite some time, what if you were able to get rid of the pain yourself? What if the pain got less and now you saw things in a different light? His hand drew away from the doorknob. You asked him to touch you, but you weren't in the right state of mind. Maybe you thought about it and came to the conclusion that it wasn't right to do this.

“Shit.” Boba whispered to himself. Since when was he thinking about such things? He never doubted himself in anything he did but you made him think of things he didn't even consider before. You made him ask himself about so many of his decisions. He didn't care about anyone's opinion until he met you. One day, you would be the death of him, he saw it as clear as water.

Still drowned in his own thoughts, he didn't realize how the door to your room got opened. You heard him swearing and thought he was about to return to you but after waiting some more moments, you got impatient and wanted to see what was taking him so long.

When you opened the door, his back was turned to you. You heard that he muttered something to himself but you couldn't make out what exactly. So you reached out to him, carefully touching his shoulder.

The man jumped in surprise and turned around, now looking at you. His breathing stopped when he saw that you were only in the green lingerie he caught you in before the dinner. Both of his eyes roamed your body up and down until they found yours again.

“Do you still want to...” You didn't finish the sentence, too afraid that he might have changed his mind.

Boba's eyes wandered back down to your breasts, his cock jumped at the sight in front of him. “Yes, fuck I-” But before he could keep talking, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into your room.

You pressed your lips on his and started kissing him as if it was the last thing you would ever do. His hands found their way to your waist, squeezing it. Your teeth bit his lower lip and tugged slightly while your hands went to his pants. One of them brushed his dick through the thin material and his hips jerked up at the feeling.

Breaking the kiss to get some air, you drew your face a little more away from him, his lips trying to chase yours. You smiled at him, finally able to open his trousers and letting them fall down to his feet. In a matter of seconds, Boba got rid of his shoes and pants just to bring his hands back to you, connecting his lips to yours again. Trying to signal him to pull off his shirt, you tugged at the hem of it and he broke the kiss to throw it off as fast as possible.

His big hands captured your face once more as he started to kiss you again. You let your hands glide over his chest and to the waistband of his, also black, briefs. Feeling his smile against your lips yours let go of his and made their way down his throat. A deep growl escaped him when you licked over his Adam's apple, feeling the vibration on your tongue.

Your mouth went deeper, starting to bite and lick over his collar bones. His eyes were pierced on you, watching every single movement you made. Your tongue moved over his chest, through the small patch of dark hair till down to his navel. Placing a light kiss just underneath it, your eyes went up to meet his while you settled yourself on your knees.

His dark pupils were even wider than normal and you could see the lust burning in them. Not breaking the eye contact, your mouth followed his happy trail, till you reached his briefs. A mischievous smile painted your lips when your fingers hooked around the waistband of his underwear. Not being able to wait any longer you pulled them down and Boba's cock sprung free.

With big eyes, you mustered his twitching member in front of you. He was thick, thicker than anyone else you ever been with. His length was a little bit more than average but you were sure that he knew how to use every single inch of it. The pubic hair around the base was dark and short, like he knew what would happen today and prepared himself for it.

One of your hands reached around his cock and the man grunted. It wasn't the touch that was drawing those sounds out of him, no, it was the sight in front of him. Your hand seemed so small compared to his hard dick. His hips twitched and he accidentally pumped himself in your hand, what made him moan even louder.

Looking back up to him through your lashes, you gave him a few slow pumps before you brought your tongue to the underside of his base and licked one long stripe up till you reached his tip. The man groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. With some feather light licks, you collected the precum on the head of his cock. Boba's hand flew up, going directly to the back of your head, trying to hold himself steady.

Carefully and not too fast, you brought your lips around his cock, starting to bop your head back and forth. With each move you tried to take him deeper into your mouth. You looked back into the bounty hunter's eyes, seeing him watching you.

“Now look at that. Just when I thought you couldn't look any prettier I get proven wrong.” Your tongue swirled around his dick, making him hiss through his teeth. “Kriff, Princess you look fucking gorgeous with my cock in your mouth.”

You took your hand away from around his base and brought both of them up to his thighs, looking for something to hold. Keeping the eye contact you tried to signal him that it was his turn now. One of his eyebrows rose, not really understanding what you meant.

Nudging your nose up, you told him that he was in charge now. Finally understanding, Boba started to slowly pump himself into your mouth.

“So this is what you want? You want me to take control, little one?” A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest while you nodded eagerly. “”How could I ever say no to you?”

And with that, his pace started to pick up. His hand was clenched into your scalp, bringing your head towards his hips with every thrust. Spit started to drip down your mouth, making its way down your chin and breasts. You relaxed your throat when he continued to go deeper, breathing steadily through your nose.

The now brutal pace made you gag around him and tears started to swell up in the corner of your eyes.

“Look at you. Taking me so well. You are so good for me.” He panted, shoving his dick even deeper into your throat, keeping you there. Your nose was nuzzled in his pubic hair and the tears now started to fall down your face. An animalistic sound escaped him before finally letting go of you.

You pulled his member out of your mouth and started to breath heavy, trying to get air into your lungs.

“Fucking hell, you feel so good. But as much as I would love to cum into your mouth right now, I think we should wait with that so I can help you too.”

Shaking your head, you reached for his dick again and started pumping it. “No. Believe me, you will be able to cum more than just once. You need more than one orgasm to get rid of the pain.”

Boba smirked down to you. “Princess, I'm a bit older than you, this won't work.”

Still touching him, you tried to argue. “But you have the same reaction as I do. Fuck your age, it has nothing to do with the situation we are in right now.” Your tongue licked his dick again, wanting him to change his mind.

When you brought him back into your mouth, he gave up. It didn't take long until he took charge again, pushing his cock faster and faster into you. His hand went down to your throat, wanting to hold you but instead he felt himself.

“Kriff, can you feel that? Fuck, I can feel myself in your throat. You are such a good girl, taking me so well.” You squirmed at the nickname and tried to push your thighs together, but it didn't work at giving you any sense of relief. Taking one of your hands off his leg, you sneaked it between yours and started to rub your clit.

The wetness in your folds was already on your thighs, before you even touched yourself. You were almost dripping and it would be no surprise if you were able to wring out the panties you wore right now.

Boba's eyes fell down to your hand and that was it. He pushed himself so deep into your throat one last time that your whole face was pressed against his abandonment. Grunts and curses rolled over his lips and you could feel his hips twitch. Not a second later, you tasted his salty release on your tongue, stopping your own hand.

After some moments, he came back down from his high, pulling himself out of you. With innocent eyes you looked up at him, opened your mouth and showed him the mess he made.

“Oh, you like that, don't you? You want to swallow it? Wait a second, little one.” His hand grabbed your chin in a hard grip and tilted your face up to him. He brought his mouth above yours, tipped his lips and let a drool of spit drop into yours. You couldn't help yourself but moan at this kind of filthiness. “There you go and now swallow it, every single bit.”

With a theatrical loud sound, you swallowed every drop and opened your mouth once again to show him that everything was gone. He hummed at the sight.

“If I wasn't still hard I'm pretty sure this would've changed that, but I guess you were right when you said one orgasm is not enough.”

You grinned up at him. “Told you so.”

His hand came down to your cheek and stroked it slightly. “That's my pretty girl. And now I should give you something back, after you've been so good for me. Get up and lay down on the bed.”

Without hesitation you got up, went to the bed and laid yourself down. Boba stood in front of you, pushing your legs apart with his hands before he went on to the bed on his knees. He hovered over you for a second, enjoying the view. A smile formed on your lips, which he gladly returned.

“Marker, you are so fucking beautiful.” You were about to giggle but his lips crushed down on yours, shutting you up.

The kiss didn't last long because his lips started to wander down your body. Normally he would have taken his sweet time with you, would tease you but he knew that the symptoms of the fruit were still going through your body, so he decided he would do it another time.

One of his hands sneaked around your back, clasping your bra open. You pulled your arms up to get the straps off. Finally free from it, he tossed it behind him, not carrying where it would land.

“I actually thought you would rip the clothes off of me.” You purred into his ear. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, don't you worry princess. This will happen sooner or later, I promise. Also, I want you to keep this set as a memory for our first night together.” A soft expression painted your face. “And because you look fucking hot in it.” You started laughing at his words.

“To be honest, I would have loved to tear it down since the first time I saw it on your body, but now I'm glad I didn't do it.”

He gave you one last smile before his head dipped back down, starting to kiss your breasts. You moaned at the feeling of his wet mouth against your hard nipples, but he didn't spend much time there, already on his way down to your core, leaving kisses and marks all over your body.

Now that he was finally where he wanted to be the most and where you also needed him the most, he wasted no more time. Getting on his knees in front of the bed, just like he did earlier, he pulled your panties down.

You hissed when the fresh air hit your wet center.

“Shit.” You heard the man in front of you swearing and you popped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You are so fucking wet, princess. I know it's because of the reaction but do we want to try and see if I can get you just as wet when we go back home?”

You could feel yourself clench around nothing by his words.

“Dank, yes, Boba.”

“Oh, I love it when you say my name like this. Let's see how loud I can make you scream my name tonight, alright?” And with that, he brought his mouth to your cunt, starting to eat you out like a man's last meal before death.

Your head flew back and you started twitching at the feeling of his tongue between your folds. Boba brought one of his hands up and sneaked it underneath your thigh, pressing his flat hand against your hip to hold you in place.

His tongue flipped over your clit, making you whimper. Your hands grabbed the sheets underneath you, trying to hold on to something.

Suddenly you felt a sharp slap against your heat and you looked down. The man's face was inches away from your heat, dark, devouring eyes looking at you.

“Look at me, while I make you feel good. I want to see your face.”

Not brave enough to look away again, you kept the eye contact while he brought his face back to you. His tongue circled at your entrance, while his nose nudged against your clit. He moaned into you and the feeling rumbled through your whole body.

The bounty hunter raised his other hand, carefully thrusting one of his fingers inside of you. It felt like all the air got pushed out of your lungs. And before you were even able to get used to this feeling, he added a second finger.

The fast pace he started off with was enough to make you go crazy. It was hard to hold eye contact but you forced yourself to keep going. His two fingers crossed inside of you, stretching you out, while his tongue kept flipping over your sensitive bundle of nerves. He curled his fingers, making you arch your back and moan out his name.

You felt the heat rising in your lower stomach and your legs began to shake. “Fuck, Boba. I- I'm gonna cum.”

Without taking his mouth away from you, he started talking. “Go ahead. Cum all over my face, little one.” He curled his fingers one last time, sucked your clit between his lips and you were done.

Your legs pressed together around his head, keeping him in place. Your eyes fell shut, while a high pitched moan left your lips. Both of your hands still clenched at the bed sheets, ripped them out from their place under the mattress. Shaking and twitching, you pushed Boba's head away from you. Feeling nothing but the hot pleasure filling your body, you tried to calm down your breathing .

After some moments, you finally came back down from your high. You looked down at Boba who still sat on the floor by the bed. With one finger, you signaled him to come to you and so he did.

His body was over yours again, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moaned at the sensation. He rubbed his hard cock against your inner thigh.

“Kriff, I want to fuck you so bad, can I-” He wasn't even able to finish his sentence, because you already turned the both of you over so you were on top. Your hands were on his chest, steadying yourself while you grind your wet heat over his dick.

He brought his hands up to your waist, helping you move. When you were sure he was wet enough you rose up a little bit, grabbed his cock and lined him up at your entrance. Slowly you started to lower yourself down on him. Maker, he was so fucking thick.

Boba's dick stretched you like no one else had before. It was almost painful, but the pain was way too good to feel bad. When he was finally seated inside of you, you both took a moment to adjust yourselves to the new feeling.

“You are so fucking tight, Princess. I probably won't last long with this pretty, little cunt around me.” He breathed out underneath you while he squeezed your waist. You were still sensitive from your previous orgasms so you didn't mind. The most important thing was, that you were finally able to feel him.

You brought your hands back to his chest, holding yourself up and started to move. With the first few thrusts, you could already feel how his tip hit just the right spot in you, so you started to move faster.

Boba's hands helped you to keep the pace and from actually falling over. It felt so good that you were almost sure that you couldn't feel the pain anymore. You moaned and whimpered on top of him, looking directly to the part where both of you met, being sure that you never seen something so fucking hot.

The man grunted and had to hold himself back from thrusting into you from beneath. He saw that you were out of breath, at the end with your power. But Dank, if you weren't a sight to behold. Your tits bouncing with each thrust, your eyes closed in pleasure and your mouth open, making the prettiest sounds he has ever heard.

“Shit. You look so good right now, fucking perfect. If you could see yourself right now, Princess.” His eyes fell onto something behind your body and he finally knew how to finish all this in the right way.

“Stop. Hey, hold on for a second.” You stopped in your tracks looking down at him. He smiled in your confused face.

“Is everything alright? Did I hurt you?”, the panic in your voice set a warm feeling in his chest.

“Don't worry. Everything is fine, just move with me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about but his broad chest was already pressed against yours, while he scooted over to the edge of the bed. A wicked smile danced around his lips, while you were still just confused.  

“Get up and turn around.” You had no idea what his plan was, until you turned around and saw what was in front of you. The fucking mirror. Boba's hand pulled you back down to him and with his other hand he pushed his cock back inside of you.

This was something new. You have never seen yourself during sex, but something in you got excited at the thought. The man pushed your legs apart again and laid them over his own, so everything was on full display.

You saw your cunt, wet and swollen, stuffed with the cock of the man you were in love with. He smiled at the sight of your face, curious about what is happening in front of it right now.

His hips made an experimental thrust while to try to catch your reaction. Another thrust and he wasn't able to hold back anymore. He pumped himself in and out of you, watched your whole body reacting to his actions. It turned him on even more.

Your eyes wide in pleasure, your mouth open, your body bouncing with his and your hands on your thighs. Fucking perfect. Not being able to help yourself, you let your head fall back on to his shoulder. But that wasn't the plan. One of Boba's big hands grabbed you by your throat and pulled your head back up.

“No. Don't look away, or I won't let you cum. Look at yourself getting fucked. Look at how fucking perfect you are for me.” The hand around your throat tightened and you clenched around his dick at the feeling.

“Oh, you like that too?” He added a little more pressure, making you slightly light headed. “This is the best fucking cunt I've ever fucked. You want me to keep doing that? Hm? You want me to keep fucking you even when we get back home?”

An obscene moan left your mouth at his words. Kriff, if it was for you, he could fuck you for the rest of your life. You were sure that no one would ever be able to give you the feeling Boba gave you in this moment. You never wanted to miss out on that again.

His other hand went to your cunt and landed a sharp slap on it. A scream coming from your mouth, so loud that you were sure everyone in this palace heard you. The familiar feeling built itself up again, already bringing you to the edge with how sensitive you were.  

“I asked you a question, little one.” His grip around your throat let loose a little bit so you were able to speak.

“Yes, fuck yes. Boba, you can fuck me whenever you want to, please. I'm yours, only yours.”

His hand returned to your cunt and started rubbing your clit. “That's exactly right and now cum for me. I can feel that you are close. Cum all over my cock.”

And with that, he pushed you over the edge again. Your legs twitched on top of his, making it very hard for him to keep pushing into you. White noise filled your ears again, almost making you deaf. Boba let go of your throat, letting your head fall back on his shoulders while you screamed his name on the top of your lungs.

The aftershocks were so strong in your body that you almost missed his question.

“Where do you want me to cum, little one?” His movements got sloppier with every thrust, just waiting for you to tell him where he can finish.

“Inside.” Your voice was so weak and silent that you were sure he didn't hear you, so you brought your last strength together and raised your head again to look into his eyes through the mirror. “I want you to come inside me, Boba. I'm safe.”

And that was all he needed to hear. You could feel how his release pumped into you, his cock twitching while he finished. His hands on your waist squeezed you so hard, you were sure he would leave bruises there. Your name fell from his lips, with many other swears.

Coming down from his high, his sweaty forehead fell to your shoulder and you could feel his hot breath on your back.

After a while of just sitting and trying to catch your breaths, he brought his head up again and put his chin on to your shoulder. “Fuck.”

“Yes, exactly.” You laughed breathless and he joined you. Carefully you tried to stand up and whine when his cock slipped out of you. To both of your lucks, he was already soft. As soon as you stood you felt his cum running down your thighs. He smirked at the sight.

“That’s actually kinda hot.”

“Ah, fuck off.” You said, pushing his shoulder and made your way to the bathroom on shaky legs. With a washcloth, you cleaned up the mess between your legs, doing your best not to touch any of the highly sensitive parts. Washing your face too, you looked at yourself in the mirror and all the marks Boba left on your body. You knew that he would be proud of them.

Stepping out of the refresher, you saw that no one was in the room. You looked to the balcony but the door was closed too. A bad feeling slowly started to overcome you. So, this was what this all was about? Not even his clothes were still here. Maker, you were so stupid. How could you think that the King of the Underworld would have interest in having a real bonding with someone?

You wanted to scream and cry, but before you were able to do so, the door to your room got opened and  Boba stepped back inside. Fully dressed and in his hands a white bed sheet.

“I just thought it would be better to get some new sheets instead of sleeping in the dirty ones.” He went to the bed and threw the old sheets on to the floor, putting the new one on the bed. His eyes fell on your, still naked, figure standing in the middle of the room watching him. “Are you alright? Do you still feel some pain?”

“Are you gonna stay the night?”, you asked. The man let go of the sheets and went over to you, carefully taking your face in his hands.

“If you want me to.” He pressed a light kiss to your nose. “And if you want to, we can spend every night together from now on.”

You looked at him with a soft smile.

“That would be great.” He slightly pulled your head into his direction and kissed you deeply.

“Now, I think we should go to bed. We have to go back home tomorrow, without getting poisoned by the King again.”

“Poisoned by the King?” A confused look washed over your face while you made your way to the bed. You slid underneath the sheets right next to Boba after he got rid of his clothes again. He opened his arms for you and you went over to him, laying your head on his chest. His arm tugged you closer to him.

“Yes. It seems like the King thought we were in a romantic relationship, so he wanted to do us a little favor by giving us an aphrodisiac, so we could have fun.” He explained. And finally you were able to catch up.

“Ahh. Okay, that makes sense.” Some of the events of this current day went through your head and now you really got what it was about with all the expensive underwear, beautiful dresses and looks from the other guests at dinner. There was just one thing you didn't understand.

“Wait. Why did he think we were a couple? I've been here for only one day and the first time they saw us together was at dinner? That doesn't add up.” A sigh left Boba's mouth.

“The maid told me that they assumed that by the way I talked about you.” Your head shot up and you looked down at him with raised eyebrows and a wicked smile.

“What? Really? What did you tell them about me?” His dark eyes studied your face, while his hand went up to stroke your cheek.

“To be honest, I don't even remember. But I know for sure that they caught up on my love for you way sooner than you did, Cyare.” You leaned down to kiss him.

“You didn't catch up on my love either. Even though it was pretty obvious for a certain amount of time now.” With a hand to the back of your head, he held your face close to his and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Just good to know that we both had the same feelings for each other for such a long time and both of us weren't able to realize it.”

“Fennec will never let go of this. She will say 'I told you so' for the rest of our lives.” You chuckled against his face.

“Oh, she sure will. We will never hear the end of it.” Boba said with a smile across his lips. “But we should sleep now. I don't want to leave too late tomorrow.”

You brought your head down to his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

The man kissed the top of your head before he whispered:”Good night, Princess.”

“Good night, Boba.” You said, snuggling closer to him.

This trip was totally worth it.

_________

Taglist:

@darthmama1618

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

HOLY HELLO Sketchy friends, followers, and fans! It's that time again, time for...

SHIPPY SATURDAY!

The heck is happening here? Here's an FAQ~ Wanna support the event? Here's my Ko-fi!

That's right, it's FINALLY the last Saturday of the month... and I've decided it's high time our Quotable prompt evolved into a Dialog prompt! This is gonna work a lot like previous Quote prompts, but with an extra twist, so please make sure you read the guidelines for a valid request before sending in!

ONWARDS!

To make a VALID Shippy Saturday request, please send me the following in an ASK to my ASKBOX:

The COUPLE you'd like me to sketch up ---- OC? Heck yes! Canon? Hell yeah! All characters welcome, so long as they're from Fallout ---- OC x OC? Cool! Canon x Canon? SWEET! OC x Canon? DAMN RIGHT.

The NUMBER of the dialog snippet you'd like me to art them saying ---- Got more than one favorite? You may list up to THREE in your ask, in order of preference, to help the artist avoid repeats <3 ---- Still can't pick? Send in 'Dealer's Choice!' and the artist will pick one for you.... oooor possibly make up some fresh dialog on the spot ;3

What KIND OF RELATIONSHIP your couple has with each other ---- Romantic? Platonic? Professional? Familial? Rivals? Neighbors? Despite it's name, Shippy Saturday is about all kinds of human connections, not just the romantic ones! ---- Is your couple part of a larger OT3 or poly group? Tell me who else is part of the relationship; they probably won't get arted, but they might add their two cents to the scene from off-frame XD

IF YOU'RE SENDING IN AN OC!! ---- Send your request ask FIRST, without reference information ---- THEN send your OC's reference information to me via my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have any reference pictures, but you can type of a written description? Great! I love working from written descriptions! :D [ No, really, I do. Give them to me :D ]

After that, you can leave all the rest to me! :D [ I.e Please do not request poses or specific actions ]

Hokay? HOKAY! With all of that out of the way, let's get onto the dialog snippets! These are taken from various things I enjoy, as well as some of my own work. These quotes have been modified to gender neutral pronouns, to remove most proper nouns, and for brevity.

[ Some of these quotes have multiple speakers! That will be shown like this! "Speaker A" -- "Speaker B" ]

"Yeah, well, I'm a victim of circumstance" -- "... I thought you called it your pecker."

"Here, you look cold."

"You are so lucky I love you." -- "Damn right."

"You know the routine." -- "Yeah! WE do all the work, YOU get all the credit!"

"I want you with me, but... I'm scared." -- "Trust me. Trust me to take care of myself." -- "I trust you, it's the rest of the world I'm terrified of!"

"No breakfast?" -- "I did it yesterday-- bologna and beans, it's your turn." -- "No... It was eggs. I did eggs... over easy." -- "The hell you did! Bologna and beans, it's your turn!"

"I like the kind of person who can handle themselves... think on their feet."

"So you were ahead of me." -- "I don't know about ahead, but I've been behind you ever since you fried those mannequins."

"Don't make me say it out loud..." -- "... I can say it first, if that'll help."

"Nooooooope... five more minutes." -- "We were together all night." -- "Didn't count... I was sleepin'."

"Well, this is very serious" -- "IT IS!" -- "You, you destroyed a door." -- "Colonel, we're talking about a test on an armored vehicle, that will carry people into combat." -- "Right, but this door is property of--" -- "The shell barely penetrated the door." -- "okay, but now it's all bent out of shape. How are you gonna get it back on its hinges?" -- "I'LL BUY THE ARMY A NEW GODDAMN DOOR!"

"Sorry, I thought... I thought you were trying to buy something I'm not selling."

"I'm busy." -- "Too busy to look up?"

"You can't kill people just because you don't agree with them." -- "You see, that was the ONE point me and the doctors could never agree upon."

"Would you ever consider having a drink with an enlisted solider?" -- "Depends... does the enlisted soldier think I need one?" -- "What are they gonna do? Kick you out?"

"Thanks" -- "No problem, anytime."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up-- one day it's gonna happen to you. Someday someone is gonna ask you, who is it? And a face is gonna jump to the front of your mind, and it's gonna completely sandbag you... I can't wait to watch!"

[to a peacefully sleeping person ] -- "Good moring, Mx. ___, this is your wake-up call. Please move your ass."

"I say we run for it" -- "Running isn't a plan, runnin's what you do when a plan fails!"

"... Normal Illinois, is that on the map?" -- "Yes, Sergeant, it is." -- "... is it normal in Normal?" -- "... Uneventful, I think, is the word."

"Now-- how many brahmin does it take to make a stampede? Is it like... three or more? Is there a minimum speed?" -- "Wish a stampede up your ass."

"I don't mind being a secret of yours."

[Right after THE BIG FUCKING KISS] ".... let's not make it a year before the next one, okay?"

"If we were serious about money, we'd quit being hired hands--" -- "Handymen! We are han-dee-men." -- "Oh whatever! We'd quit this and go find some real money."

"Please... don't go where I can't follow."

"Alone is fine! I can do alone, it's worrying after them that's got me all wound up!" -- "Have you considered that's because alone is NOT FINE and you don't wanna do it anymore?" -- "---!!"

"This is not the first time you've been here." -- "We've been down this road before, that is correct." -- "Several times, in fact." -- "I hadn't been keeping count."

"And you must be ___, I've heard all about you." -- "I deny everything."

"First time I saw you? I thought to myself, that's the kind of person BRICK WALLS jump outta the way of." -- "Figured you'd be safer behind me rather than in front of me?" -- "Damn right."

"Just keep looking at that beautiful sky; that's the sky that'll be over our roof when we're done." -- "What if we don't finish the roof? Then we can look at the sky all the time."

"Yeah, well... maybe a friend is what I need right now."

"Next thing you know the Feds will be at our door; Sorry, time to move out, Eminent Domain." -- "Down honey, down."

"Even a heat-seeking missile can miss a target." -- "... you taped so many hot-plates to the test target you could fry an egg at 20 feet, and it STILL missed by a mile."

"My dear, my darling, love of my life...." -- "What do you want?"

"What I mean to say is... you make here a better place to be. For me. Easier. Does that make sense?"

"Calm down, you make it sound like a war." -- "What do you people have against being prepared?!"

"This is not just a report, it's a deadly weapon." -- "Sir, an M-16 is a deadly weapon. A report is just a pile of paper, unless you plan to inflict a lot of extremely vicious paper cuts."

"Stupid son of a bitch, knocked himself out cold..." -- "Cold my ass, he's dead."

"Y'know, in baseball, a guy who hits .400 is consider pretty damn great." -- "In baseball the losing team isn't killed by their opponents."

"Hey... I love you. Did I tell you that today?"

This post is going online at 8 PM, June 24th, 2021, US Pacific time. The askbox will open for requests until 6 PM, June 25th, 2021, US Pacific Time. Get yours in now!

Arting will begin at 9 AM tomorrow morning, see you then! :D

-Loor

[snapefiction]

Someone who appreciates me Pt. 1 - Snapefiction

A/N: Hey! Thank you to everyone who supports my writing. I just recently reached 200 Followers after not even full two Months of starting this Blog and I couldn't be happier that you enjoy my writing. In hopes that you'll like this one too! x

(I tried to use gender neutral Pronouns and Descriptions at first but sadly lost the track of it so it slipped back to a fem!Reader. I'm sorry, I am trying to learn and do better next time.)

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Pairing: Severus Snape x Y/N, Severus Snape x fem!Reader

Setting: 3-4 Years after the Battle of Hogwarts

Warnings: Mentions of Insults

Word count: 2871

Y/N - Your Name, Y/L/N - Your Last Name, Y/W/A - Your wished Age, Y/B/M -Your Birthday Month

Someone who appreciates me - Pt. 1

,,Dear Professor, As you may know Minerva can be very consistent of certain things. One of these Certain Things seem to be the fact that we both are (if all my given Informations are correct) not currently in a relationship. I do not want to pressure you to read my letter or even answer it but i´d be very thankful if you’d at least let Minerva know about what your intentions are. Since a long time now- to be exact 7 Months and 3 days - she started to play my personal Matchmaker and I’m very sorry that you seem to be chosen by this fate that she gave us as well. So by Merlins Sake I’m going with her wish in hope Minerva may be Satisfied by it.

My Name is Y/N Y/L/N. I´ m currently working for the Ministry but will be switching to the St. -Mungos Hospital soon to continue to work as a Healer. I am Y/W/A years old and will be turning Y/W/A on Y/B/M. I live near the Diagon Alley. I despite the idea of introducing myself to someone else like I just did. It feels like I am exposing myself.

In my free time -which has gotten very rare over the years - I enjoy reading, drinking tea and going on walks. It’s not very much, actually it’s nothing, but it makes me happy. I’m a simple Woman.

Since this is the most awkward Thing I have done in a while i will end this letter down here. In hopes that you’re well and have a great day.

Yours sincerely Y/N YL/N”

Sighing he turned the Letter to look at the sealing. It must’ve sent directly from their workplace as they even used the official seal from the ministry itself for this use. He had to admit that he was lonely. Very indeed but Minerva was taking it too far by now. She tried to set him up a few times yet but he never really went with it. But now that she persuaded another Person to send him a letter directly to his workplace he was fed up. Pity grew in his stomach as he imagined what Minerva must’ve said about him to the other Person. She was always exaggerating about him, his past life and everything from the present. She  mothered and did everything to fuss over him since he was a Student at Hogwarts himself and yes, he had to admit it, he liked it sometimes. Enjoying their annual Tea each Sunday it was alright having her as a Friend. Especially after the Dark Lord passed and he finally got rid of the pressure of hiding. But her well trained skill to brew a perfect tea won’t make up that she tried to play a constant matchmaker for him. 

A deep Sigh left his throat as he sorted his Thoughts. Whatever he’d try to say would lead to a discussion about why she wants him to meet that Person so dearly. It was always a repeating scheme. Getting up from the wooden Chair which could need a replacement he took the letter in his one hand before heading to her chambers.

The Parchment burned in his Hands. Deciding on how he’d like to drop the bomb that he’d prefer to stay alone he kept walking faster. To be honest, he would never admit that towards Minerva nor anyone else and not even himself, he loved the idea of founding a family. He always imagined it as a great Joy since his own family was rather a decent disaster. But he knew what the Newspaper wrote about him after he survived, he knew what rumours go around at the Ministry, he knew how People still degraded him and how everyone secretly was checking twice if he wasn’t secretly still a death eater. He knew, felt and saw it everyday. So it just wasn’t meant to be for him to become the man he dreamt about in private. Maybe i should go back to Cokeworth, get a dog and dedicate my life to the science.

Before he could continue his daydream of vanishing from his current world he reached the door leading to Minerva´s private rooms. Knocking he already knew she was there because the heat from inside and the smell of tea already reached his nose.

After a few seconds he heard her mumbling and finally opening the shrieking door.

,,Severus, my dear. What is it?“ A warm smile formed on her face. He just tried to keep his cold face as he hoped it’d get him further in the argument that he tried to start to prove his point. Silently holding up the Parchment he pointed the wax seal directly towards her.

,,Is it from Y/N?" Her eyes shined brightly and she was already asking him inside as her hands took the letter and she moved her tall figure aside to let him in.

,,Of course it is." He mumbled while making his way over to his usual seat. Watching her reaction as she read the Letter he wished to vanish. It was simply embarrassing.

,,Oh, she can't be serious. I told her to tell you something about herself."

,,She did!" He pleaded.

,,No she didn't! She just talked about me. Oh! The two of you match perfectly. You both are very self conscious about what you are and what you deserve or in general on how to communicate." She went to the kitchen to get kettle.

,,You're just mad that we don't want to play along with your plans." Mumbling Severus knew that she heard every whisper.

,,No you're just mad that I told her about you." Rolling his eyes he watched her setting down the kettle and filling him a cup of tea.

,,I don't need a Relationship." Stating his Fact he hoped it could bury the Topic finally.

,,I know. But it wouldn't harm you as well." Taking a sip from the still brewing water tea mixture he wondered how she wasn't burning herself.

,,Can you just stop setting those things up?" Now it was her who rolled their eyes. ,,Only if you give it one first and one last try. Y/N is very kind."

,,Kindness isn't everything. Her Letter wasn't very tempting."

,,Merlin, if you start judging people over their Kindness I'll lose my mind. You aren't very charming yourself, you twit."

,,You call me a Twit?"

,,You're clearly a Twit."

,,Stinky Witch." Shrugging her shoulder she hid her smile behind her cup of tea before downing it almost completely. ,,One date and I'll stop for good."

,,Do you promise?"

,,I solemnly swear. If this won't work out then you might be a helpless case." Ignoring her spur he gave in. Again.

,,Fine." And so it came that he drank his tea and they chatted about something else. Their Friendship had their own charm. But before Severus could leave to go back to his own Rooms Minerva put the Parchment in his Hands and told him with a warm smile to write back.

It didn't work out like he planned. Actually it was the opposite. He wanted to burn the Letter and forget that it had happened but if it was the only way to get rid of any unwanted dates, matches etc. he would actually give it a chance. Unbelievable. He'd really write Y/N back.

Since it was almost midnight he decided that it was time to continue his paperwork. He couldn't fall asleep until three A.M. anyways if he was able to fall asleep in general. After answering a lot of Letters, correcting some Works and finally writing down what he had to get from his next visit at Diagonal Alley he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to his new acquaintance living there. Wasn't she repelled by his ruined reputation?

Rereading her Letter he was wondering what a type of person she was. How did she look like? What made Minerva think that they'd be a great Match? In his Mind he was starting to puzzle a picture of someone he'd expect to write to. Of what he'd expect someone nice to be and act like. To his surprise it wasn't anything close to Lily. Not at all. It was almost the completely opposite. Bewildered he laid down his feather. He almost hasn't noticed how he started to mindlessly write all the attributes down that he was hoping to find in Y/N.

Nice but not foolish. Intelligence. A dry sense of humor. Challenging. Special. Complementary. Appreciative. Pretty Eyes. A soothing voice. Someone who appreciates work. Someone who appreciates me?

Eyeing the Clock he noticed that it was already past 4 am. Again he was completely loosing his track of time. Packed by the idea of finding something of those attributes in her he grabbed a paper and his feather.

His enthusiasm quickly faded. What was he supposed to say? What did she knew about him? His wide eyes and his raised eyebrows scaled down a bit. This grew to be more complicated than he anticipated.

,,Y/N, I'm sorry that Minerva grew this Mania about you as well. I have known her for a long time by now and can confirm to you that despite all her promises she won't stop setting things up. It seems like it became one of her dearest ways of passing time.

Not knowing of what she has told you about my person I will just start formally.

My Name is Severus Snape. Currently I am still preoccupied as the head of house of Slytherin at Hogwarts. And due to latest events I won't return to teaching soon or anytime again. Most of my time I look out to keep myself busy with science studies, working and reading.

To be completely honest, I promised Minerva to write back as she promised me in return to stop setting any acquaintance with me. Also I feel uncomfortable introducing myself as well. I prefer Meetings.

Yours faithfully Severus Snape"

After his eyes read the letter multiple times he finally got himself to seal it. Watching the wax cool down he noticed how much he hoped that she could at least fulfil on of the attributes he was looking for. Hope? Don't make a fool out of yourself. She will probably loose her interest soon.

But she didn't. He sent his Letter around 4:50 am and already at 8am after he slept 2 full hours she sent her response. Not truly believing his eyes that Y/N was answering and not someone who would want to mess with him he quickly opened it. This Time the Seal was a different one. One that contained her Initials.

,,Dear Severus, Taking it from your response I anticipate that we are on first name base now? If that's so completely fine with that.

Reading your Letter I had to laugh. Minerva is simply one of a Kind and somehow I feel very reliefed that you're as uncomfortable as I am.

Maybe that's a great opportunity to admit that I already know a lot about you. Minerva is very chatty and as you probably already are aware of your Name is very well known and greatly appreciated. And by that I don't mean that that's the Reason why I decided to write you but I mean that I'm impressed by you. I actually chose to follow Minerva's will to contact you because she introduced you as a very kind, intelligent and somewhat funny Man. And despite the fact that I am happy by being alone I can't deny that the idea of meeting someone like you was interesting me. Someone who Minerva introduced as a great Friend. This may sound cheesy but you deserved to get known to my intentions.

You mentioned that you prefer Meetings. What about a Meeting at the Three Broomsticks? I bet you know a lot funny stories about Minerva which I'm not aware of yet. Name a Time and Day and I'll be there. And if it makes you more comfortable- you can decide if it's as friends or if you want to call it a date. As I already said I'm mainly interested in getting known to you.

I hope you'll have a successful Morning and i'm expecting your Owl.

Yours sincerely Y/N YL/N"

That wasn't like anything he expected. She wasn't disgusted by everything he did? She wanted to meet him? He thought that she'd politely decline and he'd get rid of all the fuss but she actually sounded nice. Should he give in?

Some time has passed since he received her letter. To be exact four days and nights. Severus told himself that he had gotten busy in hopes this could ease his guilty Feelings. But Minervas Questions wouldn’t stop and he had to make the decision he was shoving back for too long. He just wanted to end that Matchmaking Service and now it had gotten him to the point where he was too nervous to answer a simple letter after the Person openly admitted their interest in him.

Hoping for someone to take the Decision which now laid heavy on his shoulders he wandered around the corridors. His duties for the day have been already done by now and he was just looking for a task to get his mind of the Woman’s Name. He was too nervous to answer, way to nervous. It was nice to get known to someone, yes. But it was too early for him. He hasn’t recovered yet and still felt hurt from his past. Who could blame him? No one. Right? Slowly he started to feel better. Like it was a great opportunity to back off and make this another awkward Memory he had in one of his many brain cells. He won’t answer her. That’s it.

Feeling some Weight flowing off his shoulders he reached his Chambers. He should at least answer Harry. Since he had graduated two and a half years ago he still checked up on him. It simply was his promised duty to do so. Thinking of Questions to ask Harry about his new Life as a Auror and about his Girlfriends Ginny Weaslys as a Professional Quidditch Player he grabbed some Parchment and took his Feather. Dipping it into the small ink Pot he had to notice it was empty. Annoyed he took the List he had put in his drawer in his hands. Diagon Alley, was written on it. Tea, Ink, a new Book and some Parchment.

,,Dunderhead.“ He called himself as he again rolled his eyes. He had forgot to get his supplies. That one Task had slipped off his mind. Annoyed and grumpy as always he gritted his teeth while grabbing his Coat and using his Cabin to reach named Diagon Alley. Slighty coughing he scrunched his nose. As Years have passed he grew to hate using Floo Power. 

Diagon Alley was shining. Lights from every Window invited Passengers into their Shops. But Severus wasn’t the Man to just go shopping and buying random Things. He was organised. So Organised that a simple Woman who showed slight interest in him could get him off his tracks. Ironic. He worked Years as a spy and now a simple Letter did this to him.

His Feet lead his set route to the Shop where he got the Parchment and some ink and afterwards to the Teashop. The last station was the Book Shop. It was the only stage where he was spending an unknown amount of time each time he got there. Words always had a big impact on him. Of course Actions were important too but it are words who seduce him easily.

That’s why he was carrying his now heavy bag through the huge aisles of Books trying to find a new object of Desire. He was very fond of almost every Herbalism, Potion and Healing Book so it had to be something new. His Position as Head of house was boring him. He needed something to do. So he decided to focus his energy on Books and as already mentioned Science.

Opening a smaragd green book he followed some lines about Muggles. Even though he never found himself very intertwined in this Topic he gave it a chance. The fact of how well written and even advanced it was was interesting him. Putting it in his little Basket he continued to decipher the Book Titles. Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst is Coming. Taking it in his Hands he way eyeing it closely.

,,I hope you aren’t expecting anything bad, Professor Snape. That's a dangerous Book.“ Caught he quickly looked to his side. A young Woman was smiling nervously at him. Confused he tried to remember her. Was she a Student? A former Death eater? Merlin, no. She was too young to be a death eater.

,,Y/N.“ Her cheeks blushed now and she lowered her glance shortly. ,,Y/N Y/L/N. I thought it might be not very polite if I wouldn’t even say hello since we somehow know each other.“ Getting lost in her eyes he quickly forgot his Plan on to stop thinking about her and not writing her back.  

to be continued. last update 30.jan.21

Taglist: @deepperplexity  , @monstreviolet , @wow-life-love4 , @lizlil , @once-upon-an-imagine , @darkthought15 , @elizabeth-baelish , @looseheartedlady , @ithinkweallsing , @simpforsnape

Let me know if you want to be added to my Taglist. :)

[albino-whumpee]

The redhead

Ok, so. This story has been cooking on my head for such a long time now and Im gonna be clear with you: I´m aware this first installment and maybe the next won´t be of many people´s liking, so if you don´t like seeing the whumping of minors, I advice you to stay away from this series.

There won´t be any noncon here, but there will be lots of other hurt/comfort tropes and many creepy whumping from multiple whumpers to a pair of whumpees, one adult and one a minor.

I´m also gonna say this is the backstory of one of Albus´s story characters.

I remember sending you an ask @deluxewhump about some ideas for this story and you wanted to be tagged, But, I can´t find them and well. Wanted to give a heads up of what it could contain.

Taglist: @whumptywhumpdump @grizzlie70

CW// Pet whump, whumping of a minor, modern slavery, human trafficking, collars, dehumanization, it as a pronoun, implied death, creepy whumper, conditioning, captivity whump and angst. (ask to tag if I missed something)

House looked like an ordinary orphanage from outside. It had big halls with bunk beds and slim metal closets next to them. Shoes tossed under the beds along with any trinket the children wanted to hide from curious or severe eyes. Beds neatly made early and kids off to the classes on other rooms. There was no need for them to learn to read or write however, so there were no books that weren’t for coloring.

Many of the lessons were taken outside, along buckets and brooms they swiped dutifully, or inside kitchens learning to identify tools and vegetables and memorizing the measurements needed of each ingredient on what recipe. Children did everything under the scrutinizing eyes of teachers who were so, so difficult to appease, but yet again, tried hard to earn their comfort and approval.

So they could graduate and leave.

The very best left early and the not so good would leave bordering their 12. There were only a few that left on their mid teens, and so, the ginger kid wearing the sandy jumper of House’s uniform, coloring with a green crayon the feathers of a toucan, had decided he didnt wanna be like that a long time ago.

He would graduate and leave house and go with a loving family that would take him, that would really love him, just like the teachers told them they would sometime soon.

It was his dream. As it was every child´s wish in House. So, he did as he was told. He cast his big green eyes down when talked to, kept quiet until he was spoken to, paid attention to class and did his tasks before the day ended. He took all the punishments while training, too. Even if he tried to keep it to a minimum, there would always be something that pissed the Teachers off.

For example, dumping the trash. Having to go to the back of the one store building, close to the one beyond the thick brick wall, with its narrow barred windows -just like House´s windows were- from where phantasmagoric sobbing and pained screaming would come through, was the most loathed chore at House. Whenever he was on duty, the little boy shook like a leaf with the heavy plastic bags dragging behind, before throwing them and run back to the building.

One time, the kid saw a pair of thin hands wrapping around the window bars and saw a woman peeking from it, hands shaking with the effort when she panted a wheezy, “help me”

The little boy had never screamed so hard in his short life.

The teachers had been mad at him, but not enough for a crate training reinforcement. He was relieved, to a point, when they punished him to clean the bathrooms alone for a week instead.

As he swiped the floor in the middle of the night, he promised himself he would get out soon. Sooner than his brothers and sisters who wouldn´t dare to defend him, saying outloud how scary the other building was and how some of them couldn´t sleep because they heard the people trapped there scream and beg all night long.

Of course they wouldn’t. Excepting a few who unknowingly shared blood, nobody shared anything but the wish to get out. If you tried to fight the Teachers, it would just delay it further. Every kid knew not to get on their bad side. It was also part of their training to see them as their preliminary Masters. A drill, of how it would be once out.

So when one finally received their collar and graduated to go to the family who had chose them, only the brave ones would wave goodbye. Jealousy taking the better of some, meanwhile others would only feel fear.

He wouldnt be like that either.

The brother he had gotten the most close to, the one who actually did protect him from the other kids bullying, had graduated months ago. Taller than normal for any kid from House -the little boy had heard the teachers say once- the brown kid and black curls with a smile sitting on his face at all times, had been his best friend.

They didn’t have names and they weren´t given one until they graduated. The Teachers used nicknames like “ginger” or “mole” or “mousy”, but that hadn´t stopped them from calling each other a secret name. A name they used only for each other and secretly, considered their true names.

“Are you happy for me, Robin? That I will finally go” Hawk asked him once, while playing on a sunday. The Kid´s free day to go anywhere they wished inside the estate´s perimeter. Close to the brick fence, a river flowed through iron bars, not letting anyone in or out.

Robin shook his head, red hair bouncing at the motion. Hawk giggled with that weightless sound, throwing away the stick on his hand they had used to play as if they were two princes in duel a few minutes earlier.

Robin stopped walking when Hawk put his hand over the wall, looking at it with conflict on his face.

“I heard the Teachers say my new Master will take me over seas” Hawk admitted. Robin didn´t understand the reason for such a long face. That only meant he would see the sea! Wasn´t that cool enough? However, the small kid kept listening. “They said he specifically requested me. But…” he punched the wall suddenly, making Robin jump in reflex “They said because I was problematic, I would be getting extra training in something called WRU”

Robin didn’t know what WRU was yet. They barely knew what was beyond the brick walls surrounding House, but it couldn’t be much worse than House, could it?

“I´m sorry. You always ended up on fights because of me…” Robin started clenching the stick on his hands tight as Hawk turned to him.

“C´mon. We´ve been over this, Birdie. It´s not your fault” he said, watching the small readhead lift his glassy eyes up “Besides, you know what to do now if they pick on you, right?”

“But I´m not as strong as you!” The boy argued before feeling the big hand of his brother ruffling his hair.

“Maybe just not yet” he said with that innate warmth of him. Like the times the other kids gathered around him late at night, hearing him talk about what one of the Teachers, one that was so close and nice to him, they had thought he would take Hawk home, had taught him after class. About all the different animals that existed, about science, about the world outside of the thick walls.

It dawned on him then, no kid would have those stories anymore, nor would he laugh first thing in the morning seeing the nest his hair was.

The child jumped to hug the older boy at the waist. “But, but, even if you go, you won’t forget us, right? If I graduate soon and our Masters meet, even if I´m already an adult, you will recognize me right?” Robin asked him, feeling the other boy’s fingers card through his short hair before squeezing him tight.

“I promise I won’t, Robin”

“I will keep the name you gave me” Robin said urgently, clenching hard so Hawk wouldn’t let go just yet. Hawk sighed quietly before burying his face on the boy’s shoulder.

“They’re ours”

“Ours alone” Robin finished.

The next day, Hawk’s new Master came for him in a black suburban with polarized windows and a few scary looking men by his side. Hawk bowed to him before the teacher ordered him to, as a perfect obedient Pet from House did before graduating. The other boys were lined up in their Sandy uniform, maybe in hopes the man would take another boy or girl, but he was completely entranced by Hawk’s face. He had lifted his chin to have a better look at it and then ruffled his hair with a big smile.

Then, the man gently buckled the new collar around Hawk´s neck, clipping the leather leash with the outmost gentleness. The man only tugged on it to test if the boy would walk forward, and when he did, he passed his hand through his hair.

Robin couldn’t hear it, but Hawk glowed at the praise his new Master gave him before giving the Teachers the ceremonial thick envelope. While the transaction happened, Hawk sneaked a look back at Robin and smiled.

“Bye, Robin” he mouthed, before feeling a pull from his neck that told him to follow his Master to the black van.

Right before the car trunk’s door closed, Robin waved goodbye with tears in his eyes the other kids didn’t stop teasing him about for weeks.

Four months after Hawk’s graduation, a few weeks after his twelfth birthday, Robin was standing in front of the building again. Now, it was his turn to graduate. His new Master was an older man that came out from a car you could smell the stench of gasoline from miles away.

“Skip the formalities. Where is it?” The man asked one of the Teachers standing next to him after the boy bowed. The woman in white clothes simply pushed him forward. Robin looked down at his shoes, so old looking against the shiny, cared for shoes of his would-be Master. The man wasn’t gentle when he fisted on the ginger’s head and forcefully lifted his face for him to see. He was better trained than to let out the pained groan bobbling up on his chest. The man hummed, pleased with his silence. “Yeah. You will do. How much for it?” The man said letting him go and quickly taking out the thick envelope from his jacket.

“I see you didn’t bring your own equipment for your new Pet, Sir. Would you want me to add the collar and leash to the sum?” The Teacher asked to the man, who grunted, too annoyed, like it was a waste of his time to ask.

“Yeah, sure, whatever” the man said without looking at Robin “It´s not for me anyways”

The small boy gripped on his uniform tight. The distress of not knowing how his real owner looked like suddenly settling in with fear when suddenly his not-Master asked the Teacher for a transport crate.

“Of course, sir. We will prepare him right away” the woman said with a wide grin as two other teachers pushed Robin to the garage. The boy´s heart leaped, but he gulped down the fear and allowed himself to get dragged. As he walked through the mocking and confused stares of the other children, he heard the woman continue to speak “If you would be so kind to accompany us to the office so we take the information needed for his shipping”

The man cursed under his breath, “Make it quick. Hearst is already pissed at me for messing up his pair”

Robin didn´t hear her reply.

The next thing the boy knew was that he had wrapped around his neck the price leather collar- the one the Teachers would only put on when they had earned a people´s meal from good results on training- with a large paper tag on it. He couldn´t know it said the name and address of his new Master, but he was static as he crawled into the plastic crate with the blue blanket on the corner he quickly wrapped around himself as he was rolled to the man´s stinky car. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would be able to catch a sight from the sea. Or maybe, from the sky above, if they went on a plane.

The car´s doors closed and he was drived out of House´s property, through the bricked fence and so, as his world, that had been confined to the same three square kilometers, suddenly grew infinitely big, filled with infinite things to see.

The man´s laughter on the driver´s seat abruptly stopped his awe.

“Enjoying the view, Pet?”

“Y-Yes, sir. Very much, thank you” Robin quickly replied.

“Well, you better burn the image to your memory, because with Hearst, you won´t be seeing anything but a kitchen and dirty restrooms” the man laughed.

“Yes, sir!” Robin said before looking out through the bars on his crate. To catch the green land and the sea expanding beyond. The man rasped his throat, muttering something under his breath.

Although he could hear him say “That´s why you wanted him young?” Robin didn´t understand and put his whole mind into catching every last detail he could get of outside.

Robin held to the image of the small houses with red ceilings surrounded by a vast blanket of green even as he was processed to go back on the cargo at the airport. They took him out of his crate to check the tag hanging from his collar and stick some papers into his uniform before pushing him back inside.

Two workers in blue jumpers, loaded him with the rest of the pets. There were some cute dogs Robin had never seen but in his coloring books and even some older Pets with the same tags hanging from their necks. All of them, including him, were wrapped around a fuzzy blanket inside their crates.

Robin was dissapointed when he found out there were no windows inside the cargo, but the feeling of being lifted off the ground, of flying, even if he slammed himself against the metal door of his cage, was completely worth it.

During the long ride, he wondered if Hawk had gone on an airplane too. What he would´ve said of that weightless feeling as he curled tighter into his blankets. The sound of paper getting scrunched was muffled with the engine and the other pets conversations between them, but Robin closed his eyes and hoped, prayed, his new Master´s family allowed him to see even once more, the world he had dreamed of seeing.

And if his wildest dreams as he was rolled off the plane, abruptly awake when his cage was thrown around and rolled by Not-Master outside where it snowed, he hoped he could see Hawk once more.

“That´s our new addition, Charles?” a man´s voice said as he stopped rolling. They seemed to be on the parking lot now. Next to a black shiny car.

“It was a nightmare, but told you I would get a replacement for Shirley. It even has red hair” The man said patting the plastic cage´s ceiling.

The man didn´t reply immediately, but Robin had crawled slightly closer to the door, to catch some of the man´s incredule face.

The man’s low, almost amused, laughter hit him like a soft salty breeze, warm and gentle. “Well, let´s see Isaac’s new partner, Let´s see what you got us” the man said before he knelt before Robin´s crate.

The wished he could say his Master had looked kind, gentle even, that first time they locked eyes. But in reality, Robin couldn’t help but think his new Master’s eyes were so much like a cat’s. A pair of narrow, clever honey colored eyes stared at his wide greens for a moment, before he copened the door and pulled him out with a swift pull on his arm. Robin´s face scrunched at his Master´s grip, cracking a smile on the man´s as he let go “How old are you, boy?” The man asked him.

He bowed instinctively before answering, “Twelve, Sir, Master”

“I see” The man´s smile hung on his face as he said “Not old enough to be on the front then” His new Master then turned to the man “Thanks for fetching me a new one. The kids are very sad without Shirley but the worst must be Isaac. He just refuses to work now”

The man grunted as he saw Hearst open the trunk of his car. “I already apologized, Will”

“What´s one more “I´m sorry, Mr. Hearst”? My slave hasn´t even eaten because of what you did to his partner” he said before turning back on Robin, expecting “Do I have to put you in myself, boy? C´mon, up you go” he said snapping his fingers in front of his face. Robin´s body moved before he was aware he had crawled inside, then laid down on his side as the man put his hand back on the door  “Watch your head” he said before closing it, letting Robin in complete darkness.

It took a moment of hearing only his breathing to for him to finally sense the car moving. He was with his Master now… but he was shaking like a leaf. He didn´t stopped shaking, knowing deep on his bones, this Master would be the severe type.

It wouldn´t take him long to know he was right.