#Jean always has the best lines

[wherethemothsgrow]

Offering you more lyrics that made me think of these 2

[dirt-str1der]

Trans kiryu is a genuinely funny hc because like trans majima is like oohh angst ohh she has to fight to be accepted she has to deal with people making fun of her for being a man in a dress she has to take into account her position and social standing and kiryu is literally just kiryu forever because the universe loves him too much to ever force him into a situation unless its to go to prison in which case hes like yayyy i love jail yayy yayyy

[st4rbwrry]

𝒟𝑅𝐼𝐹𝒯𝐼𝒩’ 𝒩 𝒦𝐼𝒮𝒮𝐼𝒩’.

✧｡˚ eren’s over just being your best friend.

𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 8.7k fem!reader, lowercase intended, girly girl reader, friends who rlly like each other, smoking, drifting, fluffy scenes, eren is super soft for reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, car festivities, kissing, neck biting, bits of roughness, multiple orgasms + overstimulation, choking, ass hits, cunnilingus, daddy kink, pet names ex. ꒰ baby, pretty, luv. ꒱ , praise, sub/dom, thicq!reader, goofy loving cutesy shit, minors do not interact! comments & reblogs are appreciated.

"i'm outside."

why is that text always terrifying to receive? it's the quickest way to make your heart fall to your ass in milliseconds. you can't help but roll your eyes and suck your teeth because he's too early, or maybe you were too late. it's only nine thirty so you're confused why he's here already. dropping the puffy makeup brush in your hand, you stand up from your brightly lit royal vanity with intricate carvings in the pearl-toned wood. slipping your painted white toes into a pair of hot pink teddy bear slides to make your way out of your bedroom and towards the front door for this asshole. 

eren gets smacked in the face with your prettiness the minute you open your door, smelling like marshmallows and looking like a fucking bratz doll. your beauty stuns him every time. the six-foot-three man before you rests his weight against the wall on the outside, one arm stretched above as he leans over you with a wicked smile on his deadly gorgeous face. he's wearing a white graphic tee with pink graffiti spray painted on reading killer alongside a lavender nissan 350z. it's old merch connie was testing for his line. he also makes eren's shirts for his auto shop. 

eren's also attired in black slim jeans and beat up 550 new balances, his signature racing shoes. his silver chain on his neck dangling as he kisses your forehead, the move so slick. you've noticed he liked to touch you a lot, give little indications of affection. kissing your hand, your cheek, your face overall. he grabbed your ass a lot, and it's so excessive you have to give him a hard swat and a death glare to actually make him stop. 

"hello, eren," the way you say it has annoyance laced in it. turning away from him and walking away with that salacious sway your hips have. eren tongues his inner cheek, chuckling as he enters your home and shuts the door. he forgets how quick you walk, literally speed walking to your room since by the time he gets there you're already back on your powdered white tufted ottoman doing your makeup. riiverdance by beyoncé plays softly from the small speaker you kept on your windowsill so the music travels better. 

"damn, i can't get no kiss? you fussy with me already." eren remarks, looking below him to see the fluffy black cat brushing up against his leg, scooping her up with one hand and petting her as he takes a seat on your bed. 

"no. . aht aht! outside clothes, off the bed!" you're snapping your fingers at him as if he's your cat, eren swiftly raising his ass off your bed, blinking slow. 

"where am i supposed to sit, woman?" 

"the floor like always."

"tryna get cat hair on my shit," eren sucks his teeth, sinking down to the ground and groaning when your cat scrambles to get out of his hold, never liked being touched for long periods of time. 

"you literally decided to pick her up knowing you're wearing white. that's your fault." 

you were right but he couldn't resist holding her. that's his daughter. he's not giving you the satisfaction of being right though. manspreading, eren cocks his head to the side to watch you closely. you can see his entire reflection in your mirror, quickly glancing his way and ignoring the way he slowly licks his lips and knocks his legs in and out, unbeknownst to you, to chill his dick. 

"so fuckin' gorgeous," eren smiles, those bright white teeth making you wanna fold immediately. eren loved watching you do your makeup. eyes softening for you. he found it so mesmerizing. you surely didn't need it but it made you happy so it makes him happy. "you wearin' that white on your waterline like i like. that jus' f'me?"

you pucker your lips. "mhm, nah. i just like it. i do nothing for your gratification."

"ouch," eren holds his tatted hand to his chest, shock overcoming his features. "keep hurtin' my feelings like that 'n your ass won't have a ride tonight. or no food."

that last line alarms you more than anything. one thing you didn't play about, and he knows this especially. . . is your hunger. you honestly haven't eaten much all day. working a shift at the hospital and only having a salad on your break wasn't filling at all. you all talked in your group chat about how saturday's the perfect day to go drifting tonight and grab some chinese at your favorite restaurant in town. your check hadn't hit yet but eren being him since he likes you so damn much offered to pay for you. you declined, as usual, but he didn't give a fuck about what you said, you were coming either way. to be honest, he missed your little sweet ass. a lot. you've been working mostly overnight shifts, being a SPT wasn't for the weak. and he's been busy at the shop fixing and selling cars. your days apart, aside from texting and facetiming made him want to be in your presence. he felt complete with you. you had to know that.

"if you gonna play with me about my food then ima just head to bed right now and starve," you basically threaten him. eren hated when you don't eat enough, makes dumb jokes about how you'll 'lose those thick ass hips of yours.' the boy will make it his mission to grab you something quick. he's your food and weed dealer. also your personal chauffeur, absolutely loving when you're his passenger princess.

"don't be fuckin’ dramatic, brat. i'm playin'. you know i got you," he stands back to his feet to come by you, pressing his midsection to your backside, where you can also feel the outline of his dick, trying your best to ignore the way it makes your face heat up. teasingly, he starts sliding his warm hands over your shoulders and down to your waist. cautiously, you eye him, having a hot wave of panic hit you when he begins tickling your left side. your most sensitive side, mind you. you screech and twist your body into a curling position trying to escape his attack. 

"eren! get the fuck off me, bro!" he's laughing hard at your attempt to twist and yank away from his grasp, screeching and biting his arm which he flinches from and moves away. 

“oww, fuckin’ gremlin,” he hisses dramatically, as if you’d stabbed him. “next time smile when you see me at that fuckin' door. gimme a 'hey, daddy' with it, too. it'll make my dick jump."

"your dick jumps for me enough."

eren’s eyes meets yours in the reflection of your vanity mirror. he shrugs nonchalantly, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“well,” he begins, dragging the word out as he takes a step closer to you again. “you wanna see it?” 

you roll your eyes, his voice dropping lower, becoming more intense as he continues. “know you wanna see it again.” 

“says who?” you raise your brow, testing him. 

by again, he means accidentally when he was showering at your place and forgot to grab his boxers before he went inside your bathroom, thinking you were sleep when you were in fact up reading on your phone. wanting to laugh at the memory of him turning red in the face and trying his best to shield his dick with his hands. making a snide comment about how badly you wanted to stare at it. 

“you heard me,” he states simply, his gaze never leaving yours in the mirror. he's leaning directly over you, forehead nearly touching yours. his presence is overwhelming, filling the small room with his raw masculinity. this is a regular thing by the way. his constant teasing. waiting for you to let up. 

“okay, daddy,” you grin mischievously.

“mhm,” he kisses his teeth, and at the same moment his phone vibrates in his pocket. eren fishes for it, checking a text from connie. 

"connie’s outside, you done?” 

“you rushing me now? i don’t like this rennie tonight,” you tsk, shaking your finger like a disappointment mother. standing to your feet, you brush out the curls in your head by running your fingertips through them. 

you do look so pretty tonight. wearing an oversized pink greenbay packers jersey with a flowy white mini skirt, eren watching as you enter your walk in closet to fish for some white socks to scrunch at your ankle, and the same pair of sneakers he currently wore. my little twin. 

“sorry, i’ll be on my best behavior.” 

you smile, standing on your tiptoes and pinching his cheek, eren liking the view a bit too much, trying to fight the urge to grab your hips and pull you close. “such a good boy. now, let’s go!” 

“wait, i want a kiss, wife,” eren smiled, trying to lean in before you pull away and shove your hand in his face. 

“leave me alone, pervert!” 

connie’s goal tonight was to show off the enhancements he added to his neon green scion frs, the car humming outside of your house when you go to say hello to him. he mentions that he’s going to swing by to pick up his girlfriend before he meets the two of you there. she didn’t live too far so he was able to make it before you two did, eren always having to make a mental note not to drive like a dickhead when you’re in the car. knowing your nerves are bad. they’ve gotten slightly better though since you’re with him all the time. 

you loved drift meet up’s because it was a free car show to see all the cool ass cars, most of the models popular in japan. men and women in groups drinking and bumping music as they interact. it’s illegal as hell where you live but sometimes everyone’s able to get away with it if they don’t act too much like jackasses. this spot was mostly secluded from open roads or police. 

eren walks alongside you, his arm loosely draped around your shoulders as you both make your way  to the forefront where cars currently span in action. his car wasn’t parked too far, planning on performing a show himself in a little. the adrenaline pumping through the crowd as drivers send their vehicles skidding around corners and spinning donuts in the dirt your favorite, and his. connie arrives not too long after, eren going up to talk to him before you’re locked in, excited for him. 

“i need to teach you how to drift one of these days. i gotta see your pretty ass behind a nissan 240sx or sum,” he says, pulling you closer into his side so you can hear him over the noise. 

“that’s specific,” you laugh, looking up at him while chewing your gum, rocking with him. 

eren grins down at you, his hand tightening slightly around your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. “what can i say? i have a type.” 

“you sure do,” your voice trails off, focused on connie’s loud car screeching and swinging before the crowd around you. cheers vibrating your ears like a concert. the feeling like a movie. you don’t notice that eren keeps his eyes on you the whole time, admiring you as you jump, clap, and scream from excitement. pulling your phone out to record your friend. 

removing yourself from his arm, you notice the cars currently in the circle beginning to depart and make way for others. “con’s!”

eren shakes his head as he watches you bolt towards connie’s car, jumping up and down like a kid, bending low to give him a high five. “that was fucking awesome!” 

“yeah, fuck with me!” he continues to slap his palm with yours. you look over to his girlfriend in the passenger seat, reaching over to twinkle fingers. 

“hey girly!” luna smiles, tucking her long dark hair behind her ear since it blew everywhere from the wind. 

“hiii!” you giggle. 

“shit was good, i taught you well,” eren approaches, their heavy hands interacting, shaking before snapping their fingers. 

“yea, whatever. you always want full credit, asshole,” connie sucks his teeth. 

“oh my god, we should totally drift each other!” luna suggests. connie whips his head in her direction. 

“wha—who said you driving my car?” connie blinks, flabbergasted. 

luna goes to hit his arm playfully. “cabrona, i meant she can get in the car with eren and yall do yall lil’ thingy thing.” 

“oooo, yayyy!” you approve instantly, clapping your hands together and turning to eren with puppy eyes. “oh, please?! i wanna shotgun!” 

“be my guest, sweetheart. but don’t try to hang your head out the window again like a damn dog, or else,” his voice drops low, a warning lacing his words as he gives you a knowing look.

“mhm, i make no promises,” you wink, racing towards his car. 

connie laughs at eren’s strained face, his friend knowing deep down he loved it. connie knew a lot you didn’t know. like the fact that eren’s madly in love with you, and has been ever since freshman year of high school. it’s not secret to anyone, really.  as eren approaches his parked car you bounced impatiently beside, he opens the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb in before walking over to the driver's seat. the interior of his black r34 gtr is pristine, everything from the leather seats to the carbon fiber accents shining under the sunlight. you loved when he picked you up just to take you for a ride. he works on cars practically all day given he owns an auto shop, detailing and adding enhancements being his daily thing.

he’s getting his hands dirty and his mind fried from mechanical work. he customized this car to make it his own, his name written in japanese on the right corner of front window, a front spoiler splitter, apexi gt specthe which makes his exhaust sound like fucking gunshots, which terrifies you. on top of detailing the body of the car with giant dragons painted silver on either side of the vehicle. standing out to the crowd uniquely. 

eren makes his way inside of the vehicle, big hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts his legs in his seat, your eyes locking there momentarily before he inserts his key into the ignition, firing up the extremely loud engine. an anxious smile shows on your face once you see everyone yelling over the power of his car, having been in it a million times, you still hated the sound, triggering your sensory overload. but, you loved the thrill. swallowing, you turn to him, balling up his shirt on his hip to grab his attention. 

“promise me you’ll be safe,” you look up at him, worried.

a soft smile tugs at his lips as he sees the concern in your eyes. he reaches out, brushing a stray curl of hair from your face with his thumb. “don't worry, princess. i'll take care of both you and my baby here.” 

“i’m trusting you,” you whisper, biting your lip. “don’t hit anybody, i don’t need you going to jail. and please don’t hit connie, because he will kill you if you fuck up his car.” 

eren smirks, his hand dropping from your face to gently cradle the back of your neck. his grip is firm yet tender. “now why’d i risk traumatizing my girl like that?” 

you suck your teeth and pull away from him, crossing your arms. he only sets his hand on your thigh now, and you let him. “aren’t you going to start driving?” 

eren laughs heartily, his hand tightening around your thigh as he does. he revs the engine, feeling the power beneath them rumble in anticipation. his eyes flash dangerously in the dim light of the cars. “promise me something, too?” 

“what?”

“we’ll finish playing mommy and daddy when we get home?” he grins. 

“oh please, you know you can’t handle me,” you tease. such a bad habit you two have. joking too damn much. but by this point, from his end especially, you’re aware none of it is a joke. 

eren raised a brow, feeling threatened. “oh, i can’t?” 

“nope. and you’re too scared to admit it,” you taunt, fluttering a kiss in his direction. 

“mhm,” eren kisses his teeth, he gives a curt nod, as if making a mental note. “ima hold you to that.” 

“drive the damn car, eren.” 

ignoring the warmth in your chest from his flirting, he finally shifts the car into gear. with a roar of the engine, he accelerates onto the street, leaving behind a cloud of smoke. malice at the palace by BONES is bumping through the stereo system as eren expertly maneuvers his car around the road, each turn and drift executed with precision. the sound of the engine reverberating through the car sends a rush of adrenaline through him. you hated to admit how fucking good he looked right now, your hand gripping onto his bicep as you giggle each time he executes a perfect drift, tires screeching, watching connie’s car across from his spin around each other. part of him hopes to impress you. and clearly he has by the huge smile on your face. you’re like a kid in a candy shop, eyes lit up. 

“i’m doing it!” you yell, eren watching as you climb up on your seat, skirt rising from the wind blowing, your ass hanging out making his eyes go wide. 

“꒰♡꒱, sit your ass down.”

“woo!” it’s too late, now you’re banging the palm of your hand on the outside of the door, staring at others who hollered back at you, your curls flying in the wind. the people screaming and cheering louder the more you raised your upper body outside of the window, being sure to secure yourself. eren’s hand instinctively clutch onto your ankle. 

“goddamit,” he groans, but couldn’t help the feeling in his heart from your pure laughter. you’re enjoying yourself, that makes him happy. but your safety is important. given that, he slows down just enough so that it feels safe for you not to jolt and fall out of the car. despite your reckless act, he couldn’t help but marvel at how fearless you truly are.

connie’s car slides vertically next to eren’s, taking your chance to reach out and graze your fingers with luna’s as she leans her body outside of the window like you do, the two of you screaming like fans of your favorite superstar. the adrenaline pumping through your veins is exhilarating. 

eren’s hitting on the brakes, causing the tires to yell and the car to skid sideways. with a swift move of his foot on the gas pedal, eren launches his car into a perfect 360-degree spin. the car gracefully arcs around its axis before smoothly coming back onto its original trajectory, all done. the world outside blurs into a whirlwind of colors and shapes as you scream into the wind, lowering your body to take your seat in your original position. 

“that was sooo fun!” the sound you make is the cutest, giggling and bouncing your legs, full of energy now. he adores the glint in your eyes, but he also couldn’t hide the upset on his face. 

“i’m sure. next time, listen to me when i say don’t hang your body halfway out the fucking car. you’ve never done that before, what if you flew out?” the sudden change in his tone takes you aback. 

“i can take care of myself,” you retort, your defiant words making him clench his jaw. 

“not saying you can’t. i’m telling you don’t be so fuckin’ reckless,” his hand moves from the steering wheel to smooth down his face, keeping himself calm, despite the current situation being anything but serene. he doesn’t mean to ruin your mood. surely didn’t want to cause an argument. he just needed you to understand where he was coming from. “don’t die trying to show off.” 

“don’t die trying to protect me.” 

“꒰♡꒱ . . cut that big girl shit, seriously.” 

“aren’t we meeting our friends to get food? let’s go.” 

connie did mention they’d be grabbing food right after, eren clenching his jaw and pulling his attention away from you. he tries not to keep you at these events for too long, sometimes things get rowdy and guns are drawn and he wouldn’t allow either of you to be around that. shifting his car back into drive, he pulls away from the scene to trail behind connie. you hated the current silence of the car, picking up your phone to distract yourself from any conversation. as you pull up next to your group, onyankopon popping up a minute after, eren kills the engine and opens his door with ease. he rounds the car, opening the door for you. you give a quiet ‘thanks’ before speed walking away to luna. eren sighs deeply, sucking his teeth and locking his car, pulling a puff bar from his pocket and leaning against his vehicle to calm himself for a minute. 

“you okay? you look sad?” luna frowns as she holds your hand, ready to cross the street to enter the chinese restaurant. 

you make an awkward expression, not really wanting to make it a big deal. “nothing, i’m just hungry! also kind of have a headache from the whiplash.” 

glancing beside you, you see eren approaching onyankopon, shoving his keys into his pocket while simultaneously colliding their hands for a handshake, hearing the small ‘yo, wassup’ from the pair before you turn your head away, luna pulling you along with her. the five of you find a booth inside of the almost empty restaurant given its close to closing, being one o’clock in the morning and all. you take the time to catch up with luna since she’s been busy with esthetician classes and try your best to avoid eren . . even if he’s sitting directly next to you. this act can only go for so long before the two of you catch glances repeatedly, still making little interactions with the group together if you had to. you didn’t want everyone knowing that you two had a small fight. was it really a fight? you were fine, at least that’s what you liked to tell yourself. 

time passes and onyankopon is the first to leave, mentioning he has to get up early for work and saying his goodbyes. that leaves luna and connie to cuddle up next to one another in the booth, your eyes studying the way his arm is draped around her shoulder while he listens intently on everything she says, bopping her nose with his finger as she giggles cutely. you smile faintly, looking down at the food you’re playing with at this point with your chopsticks. 

eren glances at you as he finishes his plate, a finger pressed to his temple as he leans his elbow on the table. you feel his glare, turning his way to see what he wanted. his eyes holding a certain intensity that only you seem to understand. “come take a ride with me.” 

you continue to fiddle with your chopsticks, swallowing air. “where are we going?” 

“i need to talk to you about something.” 

you’ve dreaded this. unsure of what was going to come from him when you two were alone. you’re not sure if he’s still mad about earlier, his reaction when luna brought up your car moment laced with irritation, like he wanted nothing to do with it. honestly, there was nothing more to talk about. he knows you don’t like confrontation, so you hoped he wouldn’t make an entire conversation about why he feels the way he does. a simple apology should’ve sufficed. the anxiety is pumping through you now, wanting to groan from his seriousness. one thing you’ve learned about eren was that he was big on communication. if something bothered him or he felt like certain things needed to be talked about, he’d take that chance to fix it. when he’s serious about something, it gave you goosebumps. 

his gaze lingers on yours, the flickering candlelight on the table casting an enchanting glow on his features. you swallow, nodding. “okay.” 

“we’re gonna go,” you grab the couples attention across the booth, connie and luna sitting up the moment you and eren stand. 

“awe, okay boo! it was nice seeing y’all,” luna waves to both of you. eren’s patting his pocket for his keys, pulling out his wallet to set cash on the table for the both of you. 

eren smiles. “you too, love. i’ll see you tomorrow, con.” 

“bet, see you. y’all be safe.” 

the car shifts into gear and pulls out onto the quiet street, the sound of heavy wind encasing the vehicle the only thing you could hear, blurring out the world. eren drove possibly fifteen minutes to a spot only the two of you go to. it’s secluded, parked under a giant tree in a grass field high on a hill that overlooked the city night. it’s surely a romantic destination. the two of you go here whenever you need to rant about life or just escape. it’s been your spot since high school. the slow melody of rnb fills the interior, creating an intimate atmosphere. the two of you sit for a moment, eren fishing for his puff bar to take a few passes before you finally say something. 

“can i?” you ask, voice an almost hushed whisper. gesturing towards the object. 

“yeah,” he’s handing it your way, clearing his throat before leaning back into his seat, smoothing both hands down his thighs before adjusting comfortably, closing his eyes momentarily. 

eren takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “lemme start by saying i’m not mad at you.” 

you blink, shifting your body so all of your attention is on him so he feels important. you tend to stare off into nothingness during these moments. 

“yes, are you stubborn as fuck and it pisses me off at times? absolutely. you know when it comes to you, shit like that makes me anxious. i have that urge to protect you, and it’s always been like that. so don’t think i’m being immature by wanting to care for your safety. i know you’re grown, and you carry yourself well. but sometimes i need for you to just listen when i get gut feelings about shit.” 

“i know, and i apologize,” you reply almost instantly, the thought being on your mind the entire dinner, but unable to let the words pass. “i do appreciate how you care for me. i was just having fun and didn’t want my mood to be ruined. it was dangerous, anything could’ve happened.” 

despite his uncertainty, there's no denying the sincerity in his gaze; a raw vulnerability that contrasts sharply against his usual confident demeanor. struggling to say what’s really on his mind at the moment. “you still have that bad habit of never wanting to be corrected.” 

“yeah,” you lower your head to your thighs, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt. “still working on it. i tend to be too aggressive when i want to be right.” 

“i’m glad you understand. but, that’s not what i wanted to talk to you about.” 

you look up. “what is it? did something happen?” 

eren takes another deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to reveal. his gaze never leaving yours as he prepares to lay his heart bare. “look . . i’m g’na be straightforward with you. i don’t need you to take this as something that has to be figured out immediately. i’ll give you the time and space you need to think on it if you’re feeling the opposite. but. .”

his cheeks flush slightly under your scrutinizing stare. it’s clear that whatever he's about to say is far from easy for him. he’s scaring you. “me and you, we been close since kids. i have love for you for life, but i need you to know that it’s been hard just being your friend. my emotions are consuming me, and being around you all the time is only making it more difficult. i see myself being with you, being in love with you. . for a long time now.” 

the confession hangs heavy in the air between you both; raw and vulnerable, yet undeniably true. his heart pounds loudly in his chest as he waits for your reaction, bracing himself for either acceptance or rejection. either way, he’d stand by what he felt. and if you didn’t feel the same, it would hurt, but he would respect your boundaries. you’re unsure why you’re not . . surprised? he’s always been extremely affectionate with you, much more than a best friend should be. wasn’t necessarily fond of seeing you with other men or hearing about who you slept with. you told each other everything. had sleepovers. shared beds, and at times when you fell asleep before him, he’d brush a finger along your cheek and admired your beauty. 

"my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewife that gets to stay home and do whatever you want. shit, start your own business. i'll pay for it all. i'll take care of you. i want you to myself, always. never wanna leave you. wanna get your name tatted on me. kiss you all day. cuddle, watch your favorite movies and shitty supernatural tv shows. run you bubble baths 'n fuck you real good every time i come home. buy you that wolf gray kia k5 with pink interior you've been wantin'. send you on vacations. buy you all the sanrio plushies in the fuckin' world. want you to be mine, ꒰♡꒱."

" eren. . . "

"i'll even learn how to cook for you, princess. 'n you know i'm bad as fuck at that shit," eren chuckles, raking his fingers through your hair. you laugh with him, tears in your eyes. "but i'll learn for you so i can always make you some authentic udon ramen or birria tacos, all that good shit you love. cause you're my girl 'n you deserve it all."

eren's hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer to him. his fingers trace small circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his touch is gentle yet possessive. a tangible manifestation of the love he's been harboring for you. each stroke of his fingertips against your body feels like an exploration, a journey into the depths of your being that only he has access to.

“talk to me,” he bites his lip, lips nearly brushing your own, unable to help the pure attraction towards you. it’s stronger than ever right now. 

“i feel the same way,” you lean in, moaning from his touch, his hands on you all the time, though somehow now they make you weaker. “i just didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

eren’s breath hitches, a combination of shock and relief consuming him. “why the fuck would you think that?” 

your shoulders shrug shyly. “i don’t know,” your voice drags quietly. “sometimes shit like that doesn’t work for everybody. and we have a great friendship. i didn’t want us being together to fuck up the vibe.” 

“we not everyone,” he states, brushing a curl from your pretty face. “and we act like we date anyways. wouldn’t be no different.”

you recepriocate the act, brushing a few brown strands of hair that fell in front of his face, locking eyes before your lips press against his in feverish kiss. his tongue parts your lips, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth with a passionate intensity. his hands roam freely over your body now, one tracing delicate patterns on your lower back while the other slips beneath your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin underneath. every touch is filled with desire and longing, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. the heat in your face blows higher, as if the ache to kiss him was a distant dream. to finally taste him was something you hadn’t known you needed. both of your hearts are pounding in your chests, every beat echoing the intensity of your feelings for each other. 

“you have no idea,” he whispers huskily, pecking your lips. you moan, body melting into his touch. you could slip through his fingers like puddy, this center console blocking you. “how much i want you.” 

“show me then.” 

eren’s eyes darken with desire. his hands slide down to grip your ass, climbing over the console to reach for the recliner on your seat, your flushed face heating up from the close proximity, his hair brush along the apples of your cheek, his smell intoxicating. you giggle when he goes to remove the headrest of the chair, banging his hand into the seat so it’s completely flat and you’re resting on your back. eren hovers completely over you, bringing his body to the passenger side, squeaking when you feel his hardness brush against your clit, a clear indication of just how much he wants you. taking your lip between his teeth, he gives it a playful nip before trailing hot kisses down your neck, going to capture your lips in another hot kiss, rolling his hips into yours making you gasp. you trail your hands underneath his black shirt, hands sliding up his broad backside.

“i need you,” you whimper, knees disconnecting to spread yourself for him, scooting higher up the seat. your desperation makes his control slip further. 

“fuck,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire, tracing along the curve of your waist before dipping lower to tease at the hemline of your skirt. “you’re making it hard for me to keep my shit together.” 

“lick me up,” you whimper, pushing your hips down so your core presses against the bulge in his jeans, eren keeping down the moan in his throat, studying you. your thumbs slip into the band of your skirt, trying to indicate that you wanted them off. “please, m’dripping.”

“fuck,” he whispers again, this newfound sense of lust you had enrapturing him. “anything for you, baby.” 

his hands slip beneath your skirt to explore the softness of your thighs, smoothing over your ass as you raise your hips so it’s easier for him to pull off your skirt, his mouth watering at the bare sight of you wearing no panties. you’d slipped off your sneakers, the balls of your feet digging into his shoulder blades as he pushes you further up the chair for both of your comfortability, craning his neck between the plush of your heated thighs. he breathes in your scent, moaning into a kiss he places on your inner thigh. 

“c’mon—ah!” your breath is taken from you for your impatience, eren’s mouth circling around your clit for a quick feel before he’s lowering his tongue to taste all of you. locking his eyes with yours as you thread your fingers through his hair to push away, deciding to remove the hair tie from around your wrist to tie his hair onto the back of his head. 

the taste of you on his lips drives him wild, craving this for years on end. eren groans from the sweet taste you leave on his fat tongue, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. eren growls in approval at your submission, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer to his mouth, swallowing down your clit, sucking on your pussy to hear you make those pretty noises he’s only heard once in his life. accidentally, of course. maybe catching you fucking yourself coming up the stairs without your knowledge, wanting to surprise you with food while the two of you studied for finals. he’s always kept that to himself, knowing you’d be extremely embarrassed by it. of course, he didn’t know it’s because you couldn’t stop thinking about what he wore in p.e; a black deftones muscle tank he cut as a crop top with gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into a manbun with his skin glistening in sweat from the insane weather out. dark ink around his skin making your mind run rapid. 

he releases his mouth momentarily, popping off your clit lewdly to murmur, “you are fuckin’ drippin’.” 

your back arches into his embrace, craning your neck as you rock against his face, eren grinning wickedly at your muffled sound, his tongue delving deeper into your folds. he laps at your entrance, thriving for every drop. his hands move to spread your legs wider apart, giving him better access to feast on your needy cunt. you hum in ecstasy, the sensation from the metal ball of his tongue piercing flicking your clit, using it to tease and torment you. his dark eyes watching you like prey, squirming and gasping from every suck. 

“fuck, baby,” he moans. “you’re so sensitive.” 

his hands move to cradle your ass cheeks as he pushes your ass up to fuck his face better, pussy glistening under the moonlight. his tongue continues it’s relentless assault, curling and connecting his tongue with your aching cunt feverishly while suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. your hands stretch to grip onto the door handle, moaning when his hand goes to smack the back of your thigh. eren growls at your helpless moans, his tongue delving deeper into your slick folds, slithering inside of you to prep you. his hands pinning your legs wide allows him unrestricted access to your throbbing cunt.

“wet n’ pretty ass pussy, baby. so, so pretty. jus’ like you, right?” he groans against you, increasing the pressure on his tongue, thrusting it in and out of you rhythmically. his free hand moves to play with your clit, rolling the sensitive nub under his thumb as he devours your pussy. 

without waiting for a response, he resumes his ministrations, his tongue plunging back into your dripping cunny while one hand continues to toy with your clit. his actions intensify as he listens to your desperate whimpers. his tongue laps at your slit greedily, drinking down every drop of your sweetness, thumb working overtime on your clit, rubbing up and down mercilessly.

“stick your fingers in me,” you whine, the brokenness in your tone only making his dick harder. he’d rather shove his dick in you, but he wouldn’t deny what you pleaded for. 

eren chuckles darkly at your plea, and within a second, his ring and index fingers are slipping inside of you, eren curling them upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep within your pussy.

“like this?” he sputters against your clit, your juices encapsulating him. your inner thighs tremble from the switch up, biting your lip and nodding. “fuck you up real good? ‘till you cream on me?” 

“y-yesss, f-fuck,” your sobs overtake you, his tongue continuing it’s relentless assault on your sensitive bud, licking and sucking it into oblivion. eren hums in agreement, his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt. he watches his fingers pump harder into your quivering cunt with furrowed brows, mumbling expletives to himself in fascination, your cunny squelching and sinking them in each time they threatened to pull out. 

“ima sink my dick in your shit, fuck. i’m too fucking hard for you,” he groans against your clit, pace quickening, the combination of his fingers fucking into you while his tongue circles around your clit pushing you closer to the edge.

“keep fucking me, baby. fuckin’ love your tongue.” 

eren loves your cries so much it’s hurting his dick bad, his fingers pumping harder into your twitching cunt, begging for you to cum. you’re drenching his fingers. he removes them when he notices your hand is cupping underneath his jaw, pulling his face in deeper and swaying your hips, the balled up expression on your face reading all he needed to know. you stretch your legs high, clamping your thighs shut and wrapping your arms underneath the curve of your knees to angle them towards your chest. eren licks his lips before sinking his tongue deep into you, thrusting his tongue like he’d use his dick.  

making a noise of approval, you grip onto his hair while maintaining your position, yanking his head back and forth, screaming as his face clashes with your pussy, tongue fucking you open until you finally cum. your tummy caves in, lifting your head to press into your knees as you catch your breath, streaming out praises of ‘yes, yes yes, baby,’ as he continues to fuck you on his tongue, uncaring of you drenching his nose and chin. 

while you take time to recuperate, eren’s leaning his head up to clean his face with the back of his hand, licking off the remainder as he reaches down to unbutton his jeans, slipping them down to his thighs and giving his dick a few slow strokes, the sight of it, thick and long, glistening with precum is enough to make anyone drool. eren holds onto it teasingly, keeping it just out of reach as he watches your reaction. “knew you wanted to see it again.” 

you cover your face. “shut up.”

with a lustful gleam in his eyes, he lines the throbbing tip against your wet slit, sliding it up and down to gather your arousal before he’s grabbing the back of your neck to look into your eyes, heavy body hovering over yours, trying his best not to lean all of his weight onto you. granted, that’s exactly what you wanted, to be suffocated under him. feel weak, submissive. 

“tell me you’re okay.” 

you nod, eyes slowly closing, unable to keep focus. “yes, m’okay. it’s okay.” 

the feeling of being sheathed within your tight pussy makes him shudder, removing his hand from your neck to balance his body by gripping onto either side of the leather seat after locking your legs flat. you reach for the recliner to level the seat up a little more, eren kissing your forehead. you drag your body lower so it’s easier for him to move, shivering from the full feeling he gives you, and that’s only half of him. 

“fuck,” he gasps, grinding into you slowly so you’ll adjust. you swivel your hips, teeth biting into your lip as you stare at the sharp cut of his jawline, emerald eyes clamped shut. “that’s it.” 

with each heavy thrust, eren can’t help the animalistic groans emitting from him, the deep baritone of his voice making your clit pulsate harder as he fucks himself deeper into you. your skin clapping as he pounds into you hard, hitting your spot and making you cry for him. he wheezes within the crevice of your neck, both of your moans colliding within the small enclosure, vibrating over the music flowing from his speakers. he’s fucking you faster with each thrust.

“s’so good, f-fuck,” the wind gets taken from you with every harsh pound, grunting beneath him and taking it all. he felt so fucking good, you couldn’t believe you waited this long just to let him fuck you. too many opportunities missed. for good and wrongs reasons though. 

“that’s it, you’re such a good girl,” his mouth gives you a chaste, sloppy kiss to your pouty lips. everything he does makes you want to cum. heavier and stronger than the last. he’s a fucking trip. 

“i’m your good girl?” your bottom lip is pulled into your mouth, teeth baring as you smile drunkenly. 

“ ‘course you are,” he kisses you again, prolonging it this time, your body slipping lower giving him the chance to fuck you even deeper, stretching you open and stuffing you full. you can feel him all in your tummy, your brows furrowed. “better than that. you’re my baby.” 

“i’m your baby?” the drag out of a whiny tone as you grip onto his chin to keep his eyes on yours has the man before you crumbling. 

eren practically whines from the way you speak to him, molding your frame into his seat from the strength he fucked you with, listening to your pussy cry for him. “you’re my baby.” 

“my pussy loves you,” you move with him, your tight cunt squeezing him, feeling that warmth build up in your stomach. 

“it does, huh. tell me how much, love.” 

“loves it so fucking much, daddy.” 

“that’s what i wanted to hear,” he hisses, groaning and fucking you faster, straightening his legs so he gets a get angle, hitting into you with all his weight. “oh god, baby. you feel so fuckin’ good.” 

“yeah, daddy?” you whimper, biting your lip. 

“yes, babydoll,” eren groans in agreement, cursing to himself as he slips his dick out, the two of you gasping from the disconnect, eren lifting himself from you. “bend over.”

you use the seat to turn yourself around, hiking yourself further up to give his big body space to settle behind you. you keep your thighs pressed together, shifting your ass back against him and arching your back low. you jump when he lands a heavy swat to your ass, hissing as his fingertips grip your flesh and bounce your ass back, mesmerized by how it moves. he draws his hips back, flexing his dick to make it jump into the right position to easily slide within your wet opening, the angle allowing him to hit deeper within your pussy than before. 

“unh, sshit,” eren moans, hands grabbing either side of your hips and tugs you back, your ass clapping amongst his toned abdomen. your forehead is connected with the seat, mouth agape as you feel the swell of him slip in and out of you, eyes scrolling to the back of your skull. 

“sshit, you’re so deep, ah!” 

his thrusts become more forceful, hitting even deeper within your pussy. with every stroke, he feels himself getting closer to release. eren growls, his canines grazing your skin as he leans in to bite your neck, your filthy whine only serving to heighten his arousal. he continues to thrust hard into you, each movement sending you both closer to breakage. 

“g’na cum, baby,” eren whimpers, rolling his waist into you, that pressure in his lower abdomen threatening to break. 

“noo, don’t cum yet,” you whine, shaking your head pleadingly. “n-not there yet.” 

“i won’t. won’t cum yet, baby,” he hisses in response. “wanna wait for daddy? so we can cum together?” 

“mmnh, wanna cum with you, baby,” your head nods drunkenly, sightly blurry. your body aches from the lack of space in the car, but it felt so good to be overpowered by him. drilling his dick into you harder. 

“take it f’me, ꒰♡꒱.” 

“i’m taking it, baby. for you.” 

“moan f’me,” his lips get closer to your ear, eren’s eyes squeezing tight, jaw wide as he fucks your pussy open. 

“m-moaning for you, babyy-ah!”

“fuck it back f’me, act like you wanna get fucked,” eren growls in pleasure, his thrusts continuing.

“i’ll fuck it for you, fuck it for you,” you’re straight up sobbing now, rolling your ass back to meet his rough strokes, dripping down your inner thighs. you’d never been fucked this good before in your life. could have possibly been the chemistry, or the longing for him. “ooo-mnmg, i feel it.” 

eren smirks, his hands moving to encircle your throat. his grip tightens slightly, cutting off your air supply, his clothed chest on your back and the coldness from his silver chain tickling your flesh. “eren, ima cum again. k-keep it there.” 

your body shudders beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing as you feel your orgasm breaks through you, pussy clenching tightly around his cock and whimpering vehemently in his face, sobbing from your inability to withhold your orgasm as well as the overwhelming way he fucked you. 

“ren,” you weep, reaching your hand behind yourself to try to push his hips away. but he doesn’t budge. eren grips your wrist to bend it still behind your back, slowing his movements the last motive. 

“you came without me, baby. bad girl,” he tightens his grip on your wrist, giving an open mouthed kissed over the side of your face. 

a small cry fell from your lips. "s-sorry. fuck, rennie . . please.”

"please, what?” he grits his teeth, the shortest hairs in front sticking to his forehead while the others threaten to fall loose from the small bun on the back of his head. the silver bracelets on his wrist clanking as he yanks you back to meet his aggressive thrusts. 

"please, eren—s-slow. i’m sensitive.” 

"that's not my name. what's my fuckin’ my name, ꒰♡꒱?" he grunts dominantly, pressing a harsh kiss to your temple, knowing what he needs.

"s-shit—daddy, please!” 

despite your pleas, he keeps fucking you mercilessly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy with ease. the sensation of being buried within you is too intoxicating for him to stop.

“jus’ a little more, baby. please take it a lil more,” his hand lands heavily on your ass, slowing his thrusts a bit for your sake and to feel your pussy constrict and beg to swallow him deeper as he shifts his hips slightly back, the tip of his dick kissing your entrance before he’s shoving it back in. circling his hips, ass flexing and becoming apart of you, pushing him towards another climax. 

“ooo, you fuckin’ me so good.” 

“ ‘cause it’s you, ‘cause i love you.” 

with a final powerful thrust, eren buries himself deep inside you. his cock twitches within your pussy, reaching in between to pull his dick out just in time, spurting his cum directly on your backside. your scream is deafening, covering your mouth and grinding your ass back as you cum again, unsure how that’s fucking possible. your body betrayed you, acting as if you’ve never been fucked in your whole life. but, truth be told, you’ve never gotten fucked that deep, or that good. 

“fuck!” eren’s tone is deep, stroking his dick while his other hand held your ass, thrusting into his hand to draw out every ounce of cum you wanted out of him. eren nearly collapses onto you, panting heavily as he recovers from his orgasm, slowly softening but knowing he can go another round. maybe at your house this time.

he kisses your neck softly. “are you okay, love?”

you nod, heaving, mouth dry. trying to regain your vision. “y-yeah. m’good.”

before rolling off of you, he gives you another kiss before he’s climbing back into the drivers seat to pull his pants back up, fishing for a wipe inside of his center console. 

you’re laying on your stomach now, cheek resting on your arms as you catch your breath, eren smiling down at you, kissing your spine as he wipes up his mess. “so pretty, baby.” 

that makes you weaker than anything he’d just done to you, hiding your face within your arms, still looking at his gorgeous face. he loves you so much, it’s always been clear. you hate how long it’s taken you to realize that. 

“i don’t have to think on it,” you suddenly say, eren staring intensely. your lips curve into a smile. “i know i love you too. for a while now.” 

the sparkle in his eyes makes your heart absolutely melt. “for real?”

you nod. “yeah. my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewif—”

“shut. the. fuck. up,” eren sounds out, smushing your lips together so you wouldn’t see the redness in his face. of course you’d mock him. you giggle into his mouth, squeaking when he goes to tickle your hip, eren laughing when you turn to hit his arm. 

“seriously, eren, i hate that shit!” 

“blah, blah, blah. love you too.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[paarksunghoon]

Sunghoon trying to stay sane and respectful but your love for mini skirts and barely there tops are testing his patience day by day. He's not a horn dog but God when you press against him, so soft, so pretty and oh so naive..do you not notice your entire cleavage hanging out for his eyes to drink in, or the skirt riding up your luscious thighs as you rant about your day?

as someone who wears mini skirts all the time…nbgngngn. i’m also pretty high but reading this really put a number on me so sorry for typos lol

***

Sunghoon is a skirt chaser.

He’s always loved seeing girls wearing them since it made their legs look longer. It didn’t matter much to him—short girls or tall girls—he loved seeing ass peeking out from under the skirt and how they’d always tug at the hem to pull it down. Sunghoon doesn’t date much either (although that definitely wasn’t because nobody wanted him like that either; he wasn’t looking for that type of commitment).

He loved the kind of skirts that paired well for going out. Sure, the solid color staples pieces were cute. But the way silk touches the skin and how hips sway in these fabrics was enough to make his mouth salivate.

When you started wearing them, Sunghoon became perplexed.

You, his best friend since twelve, seemed to have ditched jeans and long dresses for short skirts and baby tees. In the past few months, he’s seen you switch up your wardrobe to the point where he was sure you had more than enough mini skirts to last you a lifetime. They came in all colors and styles, one for every color underneath the rainbow and then some. His friends all noticed this too, eyes following your ass every time you walked in front of them. That made him mad.

The thing is, you have an amazing ass and your tits always sit so pretty. He tries not to stare and gawk at you every time you wear these kinds of clothes. You keep it fairly tame when you’re in broad daylight and push the boundaries on a night out. You don’t seem to care that his friends stare at you every time you try to cover yourself up from a gust of wind or when you bend down. Sunghoon has probably seen your panties too many times.

He really doesn’t understand why all of these feelings are bubbling up. He’s seen you in bikinis and didn’t react like this. Sunghoon is confused but that doesn’t stop his dick from getting hard every time he pictures your outfits when he’s in the safety of his bedroom.

His favorite way to get off is by pushing his back against the bed frame and spreading his legs, holding his fist in a circle and he pumps himself up and down. Sunghoon pictures you riding him in one of your infamous mini skirts, looking up at the ceiling and imagining what you’d look like on top of him. He thinks about how he’d look down and the dirty affair would be covered by the fabric, as if thinking about fucking your best friend wasn’t weird.

Sunghoon is pulled back to reality when you squeeze his bicep in lieu of a greeting.

“Do you have our tickets?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus, Y/N. You need to warn a guy before you creep up on them.”

“All I did was touch your arm!” His cheeks feel hot as you laugh. “Were you in deep thought, or something?”

His eyes flicker to the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you wear but scoffs, playing it off. “Nah. You’re as quiet as a mouse.”

“Well this mouse wants to go inside.”

You don’t wait for him to answer you. Sunghoon feels you tug him by the hand towards the security line in front of the concert venue. You’ve been a bit more physical with him lately, tugging on his arm and sifting your fingers through his hair whenever he’d lay his head on top of yours. He only ever means to for a brief second in the way friends do, but he hesitates to pull away once you tug at his roots.

The artist is a band you two discovered a few years back and he was in charge of buying the concert tickets for the both of you. Sunghoon sees the fruit of his labor pay off when you’re both standing inside after you both pass through security. The venue is crowded and small, but you’re sure everybody is too high out of their minds to notice people bumping into them anyway.

As the two of you walk closer towards the middle, it starts to get tighter. Sunghoon moves you in front of him and puts his hands on your waist to guide you and doesn’t mind that your arms are resting on top of his.

You don’t move away from him once you’ve joined others either. He noticed that you’re a bit shorter than everyone else around you. “Do you want to get on my shoulders during your favorite songs?”

“No, that’s okay. I want to dance.”

He looks down at your skirt. “Mhm, let me know if you change your mind.

The two of you wait until the show begins and you’re talking to him about how excited you are for tonight but all he can think about is how he could cop a feel if he really wanted to. The skirt you’re wearing provides him easy access to touch you but he refuses to act on his urges, often flexing his fingers to calm himself down.

Halfway through the show and everyone is having a great time. You’ve danced for an hour straight and feel your legs wobbling after jumping and screaming the lyrics to Sunghoon. He’s a bit taken aback when you rest your back against his chest but tries not to think too much into it.

But you stay like that for a while and he can feel the fabric of your skirt. He toys with it absentmindedly as he nods his head to the melody until he feels your legs tensing against him. When he looks down, your thighs are squished together.

Fuck. He wonders if you’re horny.

Sunghoon hooks his chin over your shoulder and peeks down below to where his hands graze the hem of your mini skirts. When you don’t motion for him to move away, he grunts when his hands start to disappear and moans directly in your ear when his fingers touch your panties. It’s only then does he realize how wet you are.

His other arm is secured over your waist and you grip onto him at the sudden contact across your blooming core. He swipes his index and middle fingers back and forth to gauge just how wet you’ve become, smearing it all over your panties. It brings a gasp out of you and he pushes his lap against your ass.

It’s too much and he’s too hard. Neither of you are paying much attention to the show anymore, too wrapped up in your own little world to focus on anything else. Sunghoon nearly moans out loud when he realizes you’re allowing him to hump you from behind.

“Are you trying to ruin this friendship?”

Sunghoon feels you nod against him and the two of you head out of the venue and into his car. He tries to keep it in his pants on the ten minute drive back to his apartment. You don’t fuss when Sunghoon shoves his hand between your legs and keeps rubbing over your pussy as he drives, one hand on the wheel while he plays with you. Your best friend bites his lip and tenses when arousal gushes out of you.

“Recline and open your legs wider, baby.” You do as he says and he pats your clit twice. “Good girl, listening to me like that.” He switches his ministrations and brings his thumb to rub over your clit in back and forth motions. “Need to make sure you stay wet.”

And stay wet you do. You’re wet all the way home where he locks the two of you in his place until he’s dropping to his knees and pushing your chest against the wall. Sunghoon puts his face between your legs and licks up the arousal clinging to your panties while spreading your cheeks apart with his big hands, squeezing when you yelp.

He pulls the pathetic fabric aside and sticks his tongue into you, prying yourself open for his viewing. His warmth breath fans over your core and it has you pushing back against his face until his tongue licks you up in repeated motions.

Sunghoon doesn’t really care that he’s too horny for foreplay and neither do you, apparently, because when you hear sunghoon unzip his pants and take them off, you’re taking your panties off and taking your shoes off too. He grabs himself and aligns his tip with your hole before pushing all of himself inside.

You’re so wet. It’s so hot. He fucks you like he’s got enough stamina to last a lifetime and your tits bounce against the walls at the pace he’s set. He pulls back far enough that he nearly slips out every time but without fail, Sunghoon will make sure his dick stays wet the entire time you’re with him.

He pulls you back onto the couch with his cock still lodged inside of you, manhandling your body until he’s got you on his lap and your feet are placed by his knees. Sunghoon pushes his hips upwards and fucks you like this, balls slapping your clit with every thrust. He moans when you moan, the emptiness of his apartment filled up by erotic noises that only spur on his orgasm.

Your release triggers his. When he feels your cum seeping down onto the base, Sunghoon shoots his thick ropes into you but doesn’t stop thrusting. Albeit lazier and more random, he keeps his frantic pace and lets you dig your fingers into him while you wonder how your best friend made you cum so fast.

“Fuck!” you moan when Sunghoon pulls out just to push himself back in once he’s made your body lay in front of him.

“You’re so fucking sexy in these things.” He acknowledges the skirt by flipping the fabric with his fingers. Sunghoon doesn’t give you enough time to reply but you’re too busy moaning to care about the consequences anyway. “Wear them more often and I’ll fuck you like this every time.”

Since when is your best friend so good at dirty talk?!

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[lixiesfreckless]

Breathless | h. j.

➸ synopsis: Was it dumb? Yes. But when has that ever stopped you and Jisung?

➸ starring: han jisung x female reader

➸ word count: 2.5k

➸ general content: best friend!jisung, accidental Friends With Benefits reference, both characters are dorks, jisung is kind of a menace(uncharacteristically good with women), smut

➸ warnings: sexual content, swearing, fingering, protected sex, very tame bondage

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: watched FWB today and was gagged when the literal opening line of this fic was used in the movie in the exact same context. it came out in 2011! how does that even happen—anyways enjoy this old fic since it reminded me of it lolllll

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! Feel That - Junny

“What the hell are we doing,” he giggled into your mouth, peeling off your outer layer as he pushed you into the comforter. Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his flannel, desperately trying to get rid of the unnecessary fabric between you two.

“I don’t know, but I kinda like it.”

It had all happened so fast; one moment you and Jisung were lazily watching whatever talk show that the tv program was playing and the next, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

This was probably the most reckless decision you two had decided to make since you became friends in middle school. Why on earth would best friends be trying to undress each other in the late hours of the night?

“Wait.” You pushed him away slightly and let go of his shirt. “Is Hyunjin coming home anytime soon?”

“No.” Jisung chuckled, lifting the edges of your band tee. “Him and Seungmin are on Jeju Island, they won't be back until next week.” You nodded, raising your arms for him to take off the shirt before pulling his neck towards you again, resuming your heated kiss.

The rest of his buttons came undone quickly, your hands desperate to feel his burning skin under their fingertips. He leaned back to take the fabric off, chucking it to a random corner of his room, before freezing at the feeling of your hands tracing his abs.

“When did you get built Ji?” You whispered, staring at the subtle definition in his skin. A light scoff left his lips before he rolled his eyes, leaning forward to cage you with his toned arms.

“I’ve always been this way baby.” He raised an eyebrow, eyes trailing all over your exposed skin.

“Are you trying to be sexy?”

“Is it working?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, him attaching his lips to yours immediately and letting his hands roam your skin.

As much as you hated to admit it, you loved the way his fingers traced foreign trails up to your jawline. Touching you like this wasn’t something you had previously wished he did, but now you felt like you should have been doing this all along. His skin felt so warm on top of yours, your fingers pressing around the back of his neck to gain leverage into the kiss as he groaned in contentment.

Your bra came undone rather quickly, and you’re reminded that Jisung is somehow very experienced, a thought that made you visibly shudder under his fingertips.

“Wait,” you broke the kiss, and he took this opportunity to kiss your jawline, each press leaving you more and more desperate for his touch. “I don’t really know any of your likes or dislikes…in bed I mean.”

His lips hovered over your neck for a moment, as if he were trying to decide what he should and shouldn’t tell you.

“I like hair pulling and scratching,” he answered, lips pressing under your ear. “And don’t call me anything weird.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you nearly moaned, trying not to lose your mind over how his thumbs were dipping under the waistband of your jeans and massaging your hip bones just right.

“And you?”

You fell silent, face blooming red as you remembered what turned you on the most. And he noticed quickly, stopping his leisurely painting session on your neck at your reluctance.

“Hey, this is a two way street you know.” He pulled back to look you in the eyes, seemingly ignoring the beet red tone covering your cheeks. “I’d feel horrible if I overstepped-”

“...bondage.”

“W-what?”

“I have a bondage kink-”

“I know what you said,” he laughed, leaning off of you to rest on his heels. “I’m just shocked that sweet little y/n likes being tied up-”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, looking away from the topless brat.

“If you insist.”

His leather belt came off next, nearly making you scream in both excitement and horror from his newfound knowledge about you. But he simply set it aside, climbing back over you and dipping back into your neck.

You instinctively let out a sigh as his lips went back to caressing your skin, his hands now smoothing their way up your waist as well as his teeth dragged against your collarbone.

“Hickeys?” He asked, though positive that you wouldn’t deny him the pleasure of doing so.

“Please.”

The boy wasted no time in landing one right at the curve of your breast, lips working hard to redden the skin underneath them to get the color he wanted. Your hands rushed to his head, holding him tight against you with tufts of his ash colored hair between your fingers.

He let himself relish the sensation of you tugging on his roots for a brief moment, humming against your skin before he stopped sucking, reaching for the belt that he left beside you.

You could feel your skin tingle as he removed your hands from his hair, holding them in one hand as he wrapped them with his belt with the other, before expertly tying them with the leather band. He then raised your arms so they were above your head on the pillows, leaving your torso completely at his mercy.

“Can you keep those there for me baby?” His voice had a sultry kind of quality to it; one that you couldn’t find in yourself to resist as you nodded breathlessly.

He then went back to the task at hand, licking and biting and sucking everywhere on your upper torso, making sure to leave enough marks for you to not think that what was happening was just a fever dream. And he made sure to revisit your lips every so often, swallowing all of your little moans every time he thought you’d earned it.

Working his way down, he tugged the rest of your bra off, letting it drop to the floor and kissing around your left nipple while flicking his thumb over the right. You gasped, immediately pulling on the belt restraint around your wrists.

“Sensitive, are we?” He smirked, and you’d sworn that if it were anyone else, you’d choke the hell out of them.

But this isn’t just anyone. This is Han Jisung, and guessing from the surprises this night had already brought, he’d probably like that.

So you settled for a moaned yes in response, and what a good decision that was; not even a second after he had his lips wrapped tight around your nipple while letting his fingers play with the other. Your back arched prettily off the comforter, pushing your chest further into his grasp as he chuckled against your skin.

Thighs pressing together as to provide yourself some friction, a senseless string of pleads left your mouth, begging Jisung to please get on with it because it felt like your body would burst into flames if he kept going. But he didn’t stop, no; the hand that was pulling against your nipple dipped lower to find the button on your jeans, a small indication that he did intend on going further tonight.

Even though you were already over the moon with what had happened already.

Whether he was being intentionally slow or it was just difficult to undo your jeans with one hand, you did not know; but he finally worked the button free, quickly pulling the zipper down afterwards to allow room for his hand that would need to fit inside momentarily.

“Let’s see what we’re working with here,'' he mumbled, smoothing his hand from your abdomen to the top of your underwear, pausing slightly to check for any hesitance before pressing on.

“Oh, god…already?” Your face couldn’t possibly have gotten any redder as he ran a lone finger along your slit, catching the wetness that pooled there immediately. “We’re just getting started-”

“Then hurry up, Ji,” you whined, clenching your thighs to get some friction.

He smiled, suddenly aware of his weak spot for your begging before finally adding friction to the place where you wanted it most.

This wasn’t his first time pleasuring a woman– you were aware of that much –but it took him a minute to figure out what you liked and where you were the most sensitive, essentially playing with you until you made the right sounds. Once he started getting it right however, it finally dawned on you just how much trouble you were in, your chest heaving and toes curling at his ministrations.

It wasn’t long before he changed the game, bringing two fingers inside of you and curling them just so, and an obscenely loud moan left your mouth to his delight.

“Good?” He questioned, wanting to make sure that he wasn’t moving too fast for you as he leisurely pulled his fingers out.

“G-Good, don’t stop-” You were cut off by another moan, and decided to give up on speech altogether as you felt another bubble up in your chest.

He took it a step further, lightly leaving pecks across your bruised chest, and then a step further, purposefully pressing his palm against your clit every time he delved into your core.

Not only was it good, it was also unfair and even embarrassing, considering how quickly he was bringing you to your peak.

He had you twisting, clenching, whimpering and writhing under his grasp within three minutes, and even if he stopped it wouldn’t prevent the white wave of euphoria that was approaching.

“God, Jisung, I-”

You broke under him right then and there, shaking and gasping as your release overtook you in blissful waves of pleasure. Jisung helped you through it, pressing his fingers into you until your moans turned into whimpers and your shaking into trembling.

It took you forever to completely come down from your high, but Jisung used this time to get himself ready, leaning back on his heels and unzipping his own pants as you tried to catch your breath. You could almost feel him smiling at you before you opened your eyes, chest still heaving as he flashed that shit-eating grin in your direction.

“That good, huh?” he chuckled, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough so his length could spring free.

“Oh fuck me.”

“One step ahead of you.”

A cold shiver ran up your spine as you finally registered what he was doing, your core clenching on nothing despite it being only a minute since you came. In any other situation, you would have snapped back at him for being so snarky, but with the hollow feeling in your core being somewhat uncomfortable, you figured that keeping your mouth shut would have him filling you faster.

One condom later and you were seconds away from the anticipated moment, watching through lidded eyes as he carefully brought your wrists down to untie them. Your pants were next to come off, and his soon followed, but only halfway; you assumed that your impatience had finally caught up to him.

And you couldn’t even blame him—he looked painfully hard after the show you had put on for him.

He pumped himself only three times before leaning over you again, and then a strange look crossed his face as he froze.

“Wait, I’m okay to do this right?” He asked, looking between your eyes and where your hips met. “I just realized I never asked-”

“Han Jisung if you won’t I will,” you pleaded, urging him on, and he gave you a crooked smile before drawing in a deep breath.

He pushed inside of you slowly, ignoring every painful urge he had to quickly bottom out inside you and alleviate the burning need in his lower abdomen. A string of hushed curses left your mouth; this wasn’t your first time, but it might as well have been with how much the feeling of being stretched out was overwhelming you.

He made it to the end with a small whimper, dipping his head forward into your shoulder as he tried to steady himself.

“Can I move?”

“Knock yourself out,” You whispered, eyes squeezed shut from the sensation of adjusting to him fully.

He started out slow, each drag of his cock against your walls eliciting a low whine from you as he rolled his hips against yours. One hand pinned your hips to the bed, while the other held him up next to your head, giving him the option to lean down and capture the skin of your neck between his teeth whenever he pleased.

“You feel so good, fuck,” he groaned, grinding deeper into your core with every thrust. At his words, you could only pull his face down to meet yours, silencing him with a kiss in hopes that he would talk less. Otherwise, his pleasure-ridden voice alone would bring you to climax.

He happily kissed away all of your moans and whimpers, sucking on your bottom lip until you both were panting too much to keep a cohesive liplock.

His hips were starting to slam against yours now, that erotic sound of skin on skin slapping finally reverberating around the room and joining the chorus of your moans. Your toes curled, body barely able to process the pleasure building inside of you as moans helplessly tumbled out of your lips.

“Tell me what I h-have to do to get you there,” he choked out, worried that he might not get you to finish again in time.

“Fingers- ah, please-”

He knew exactly what you meant, moving the hand that was on your hip to your clit and gently rubbing it in the way that had you moaning his name before.

His breaths became heavy and his thrusts started to lose their rhythm; both things that you were sure were signs of his release drawing near, but you could barely focus on that when yours was practically hurtling toward you, threatening to spill you over the edge before he broke.

“Jisung, I c-can’t—” Words finally left you as you felt your whole body start to tense up, and Jisung let out a loud moan from the sudden tightening around his length.

“Come. Come all over me baby,” He whispered breathlessly, using the last bit of his stamina to thrust harder into you, until you couldn’t take it for another second.

You came undone for the second time that night, shaking and moaning beneath him as he pounded into you twice more, before he caved as well, just barely holding himself off of you as he emptied his load into the condom. Careful to not wait until he was too soft, he pulled his length out of you, subsequently falling onto the sheets next to you as he caught his breath.

“So I take it we’re not just friends?” He mused, a cheeky grin poking out from under the sheets. You slapped his back playfully, rolling away from him before he caught your hips with his hands, pulling you flush against his warm chest.

“Shut the fuck up.”

[gurugirl]

Baby Daddy | friends to lovers (to parents)

Summary: After you have a one-night stand with your good friend Harry and become pregnant he doesn't know for certain that the baby is his, but he has his suspicions.

A/N: Requested! Here & Here. This was originally posted on Patreon.

Word Count: 13,995

Warning, smut, pregnancy trope (there will be talk of y/n going through her pregnancy and all that entails but not in great detail), mention of abortion, alcohol consumption, teeniest bit of angst, lying, fluff

❊❊❊

You stared down at the pink double lines on the stick that indicated you were pregnant. How could it be? It was a one-time thing! He’d only come inside of you once (and you’d also only had sex the once). How was it possible that he knocked you up? You shook your head and frowned as you sat down on the toilet lid and thought back to that night 7 weeks before.

~~

Harry was there for you. To console you after the gut-wrenching breakup with Joe. Which had kind of surprised you. Your roommate had been at work so you called your best friend, Erin, and she was busy already but told you she’d see you the next morning as soon as she could. You called your cousin. Voicemail. And then you called Harry, not thinking he’d even pick up. But he did – I need to go out for a drink. Joe just broke up with me. Come get drunk with me.

Harry showed up at your apartment and wrapped you in his arms and you sobbed into his armpit, which smelled really nice you thought, and when you looked up at his face to tell him as much he laughed and kissed your forehead, “You’re too adorable to cry. Come on angel. Let’s go get us a drink and talk about everything.”

One dirty martini got you yammering on and two had you sitting far too close with Harry grinning dopily. Three had you complimenting his green eyes I always thought you had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen… and spilling intimate details about you and Joe that no one else knew.

And four? Well… Four martinis had you pressed into the wall next to the bathrooms with Harry’s hot mouth all over yours as he confessed how he’d always wanted you. And then it had Harry calling a taxi to bring you both back to your place.

“Shhh!” You giggled as Harry collapsed on your mattress and pulled you down with him making you nearly knee him in the balls.

“You shhhh!” He pawed at your bum and then ran his lips against yours as he closed his eyes, mouth half-cocked in a smile.

You weren’t being as quiet as you should have been. Your roommate could’ve heard you and Harry and that would just have opened up a whole can of worms you weren’t willing to delve into.

See, not only did she think you were still dating Joe, you and Harry were good friends. Since grammar school. And your roommate was one of your closest friends who was also very good friends with Harry. So, keeping quiet while you were on your bed with him at 2 in the morning as you unbuttoned his jeans was imperative.

He was just trying to distract you from how upset you were about Joe. He bought you drinks and had a few of his own. He kept pulling at your lip when he’d see you start to pout, and he’d make a dumb joke or compliment you so you’d feel better. Then you two were laughing and swaying together on the dance floor to one of those popular radio songs that was kind of sexy with a slow beat, he whispered into your ear that you were cute, and then his hand found your hip and the whole world stopped.

That’s how Harry wound up in your bed pressing kisses to your neck as you both hastily undressed. That’s how he wound up between your legs, eating you out until you whined that you wanted him inside of you and so without care or thought about what could go wrong or what you were getting yourself into he slowly pushed himself in and you gasped.

“Oooh, fuck that feels good…” he breathed when he felt you wrapped around him. Every rock of his hips pulled and then pushed his cock through your walls.

He whispered to you like that all throughout. Soft and sexy. His deep voice had you tingling and his cock had you absolutely gushing. Everything about having sex with Harry was intimate and sweltering. You’d never been fucked so good in your life and even though you were still upset about your recent breakup, Harry’s dick and his dirty mouth were pulling you through the murky heartache a bit faster.

He fucked you so good you saw stars when you came. And the fact that you came in the first place was a feat in and of itself. Because Joe had never once made you come in all the time you dated him.

But it had been the best. It was just what you needed in that moment. His hands and lips on your body, his deep voice in your ear telling you how he’d always wanted to do that with you, messy hair, sloppy kisses, wet thrusts…

And when he came you told him to come inside of you and you felt every bit of that as he pumped into you, gushes of his sperm filling your insides as he kissed you softly through his orgasm while you gently ran your fingers into his hair.

All of it was so good. It could have been like a fairytale, some sort of epiphany where two friends suddenly realize they’ve been in love all along and they live happily ever after. But the problem was you were both a bit tipsy and you’d fucked without a condom. And the following morning when he ducked out before Esie woke up was the last time you two ever spoke of your drunken night.

And now here you were with a positive pregnancy test that looked up at you tauntingly.

You’d had your suspicions but hoped you were wrong. You started getting a touch queasy around 10 am while you were at work and your normal vanilla latte didn’t sit right with your tummy anymore. And then there was the exhaustion. You were so tired you were falling asleep on the couch by 8 pm every night and Esie teased you about it.

But the biggest clue was when your period didn’t come. You were regular like clockwork and you knew then but just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

You weren’t sure what to do. You knew without a doubt it wasn’t Joe’s. You two had been having issues a month before he broke up with you and you hadn’t slept together since then. That left one option for the father and you certainly weren’t going to tell Harry about it. At least not right away. You figured he didn’t deserve to be tied down to you like that. Perhaps you’d just get an abortion, or maybe you’d have the baby and never tell anyone who the father was.

Whatever you decided, it wasn’t going to be an easy decision.

. . .

“Harry’s here,” Esie spoke when you walked into your apartment after work. She was sitting on the couch, “In the bathroom. Just wanted to let you know so you don’t have a scare when he walks out. You’ve been so jumpy lately.”

You gave her a weak smile and nodded, “Oh. Thanks.”

You kind of wished he wasn’t in the bathroom. You had to pee badly. Maybe worse than you ever had in your life. That was another thing, as the weeks drew on your bladder somehow seemed to shrink and you were constantly peeing.

The moment he opened the door you raced past him to take your turn.

“Well it’s nice to see you too, Y/n,” he laughed as you pushed the door closed and sat on the toilet in relief.

There was no time for niceties. Your bladder was about to burst. And not only that… you were in a bit of a foul mood. As nice as Harry was, you just wanted to get into your PJs and curl up with a book and ginger tea to soothe your queasy tummy. You really weren’t keen on entertaining him that evening.

When you finally joined the pair in the living room you’d already put on your comfy clothes and washed your face clean of makeup.

“Oh, you staying in for the night?” Harry spoke as you plopped down into the soft cushion.

“Yeah. Not feeling very good right now. Why? Are you guys doing something?”

Esie laughed, “Y/n’s been really forgetful lately,” she turned to look at you and tilted her head, “It’s Harry’s birthday today, Y/n. We were gonna take him out. Remember?”

You groaned and dropped your head back into the couch cushion, “Fuck. I totally forgot. I’m sorry, uh,” you looked at Harry and forced a smile, “Happy birthday.”

He shrugged, “It’s fine. Just another day. You don’t have to come if you’re not up for it, Y/n.”

You shook your head and pushed yourself from the couch to stand, “No. I’m coming. Let me just get dressed…”

And yet the other thing that was becoming… well, a thing… was that some of your clothes were a bit too tight in the waist. In the morning you could put on almost anything from your closet and it’d feel normal. But by the end of the day, your clothes had suddenly shrunk. The first pair of jeans you pulled up your legs buttoned but they were tight. So you cursed and tore them off, kicking them away before settling on leggings and a sweater.

At that point, you were around ten weeks and you had yet to go to the doctor, which you knew was bad but you weren’t sure what to do. Part of you wanted to have a baby, even if no one ever knew who the father was. But the other part of you wanted to continue on in life as you were before that night with Harry. Before you got pregnant.

Your small group of friends were already at the bar when the three of you arrived. Everyone ordered drinks and you had a water.

“Not drinking tonight?” Seth commented.

You shook your head, “Not feeling the greatest today.”

Harry sat down next to you and put an arm over your shoulder, “You didn’t have to come. I know you’re not feeling great. Stomach bug or something?”

You turned to look up at him and in that moment you felt a bit of relief. Like there was nothing to be scared of. Harry was a good guy. Someone you trusted and could rely on. Maybe having the baby wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if it turned out anything like him.

“Yeah, I think so. Just feeling blah…”

“Well thank you for being here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you,” he grinned and those damn dimples were like an elixir, soothing and restorative. Maybe it was pheromones or just being tucked under his arm so close or being given his attention, but you knew for sure that he was attractive, you’d always thought so. But now? It had morphed into some dreamy kind of residue that clung to you all the time. Made you wish you could just reach up and press your mouth to his. Tell him the truth and see what happened.

You thought about it often. That night. How ardent it was. You’d never had it like that before. You two just fit together so well. Everything slid together like it was a key into a lock. He touched you just how you craved, his warm lips were sensual, his words, his voice, his body, his laugh.

Harry stayed by your side all night. Everyone sang him happy birthday and he pinched your arm when you told him he was getting old. You couldn’t tell if that was just him being himself around you or if he was kind of flirting with you. But you brushed off that thought easily. He could have any girl he wanted and even though you sometimes wondered about the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t allow yourself to get hung up on that.

You had bigger things to worry about. Much bigger things. And just being next to him with his fingers at your shoulder, his deep raspy voice in your ear, the subtle flirting… it was in that moment that you made your decision about what you were going to do with the baby.

After you finally booked your first appointment with your doctor your decision to keep It was crazy but you wanted it. Doing the whole single-motherhood thing might be insane but you were determined. Somehow you felt a connection to the little life growing inside of you and the idea of being without it suddenly felt worse than letting your life go back to the way it was before.

It was months before anyone caught on. Before your best friend Erin figured it out. You were glad that none of your friends were observant enough to notice too soon (and that the weather had been cool enough that your wearing baggy sweaters didn’t raise any eyebrows). You felt like you needed those few months to adjust to what things were going to be like. To make a plan, to settle it within yourself that you were going to have a child and you were going to do it alone.

Well, mostly alone. You weren’t sure when or if you’d tell Harry. It might have been selfish to keep it to yourself but somehow you felt like it would mess up his life. He’d be forever stuck in your little town. Kind of like you probably would be.

“Can I ask you something,” Erin whispered as she pulled you aside.

You sighed. You’d noticed her eyeing your belly region since you arrived at her house. And on that particular day in May, it was oddly sweltering hot so you refused to put on anything that would have you sweating more than you needed to. You were at the point in your pregnancy where your comfort started to take precedence over hiding what was happening in your body. You couldn’t take it any longer. Five months pregnant and the baby was already bigger than was normal. Your doctor had made a joke that you’d have a 9 lb baby. Which didn’t sound funny to you at all.

Of course, Harry would make a massive baby. You wondered if he’d been big when he was born too.

“I know what you’re gonna say and it is exactly what it looks like,” you put your palms on both sides of your growing tummy.

Erin flitted her gaze down to your tummy and up to your face as she put her hand over her mouth, “Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I needed time to let it sink in. Just didn’t want to deal with talking about it really. It’s embarrassing.”

Erin shook her head, “No it’s not. You know you can trust me. Right? So it’s Joe’s?”

You blinked your eyes and looked down at the grass under your sandaled feet. You’d rehearsed what you’d say to everyone but you hated not telling the whole truth, “I haven’t gotten a paternity test but…” you shrugged. Hoping that was enough. Not a lie but certainly not the whole truth.

 “Oh wow. So he knocked you up and then broke up with you? Or wait… does he not know?”

You shook your head, “No one knows. Except for you now. And the doctor of course. Oh, and my mom. That’s it.”

Erin was having a little backyard barbeque. Most of your friends would be there. You figured with your outfit, a pair of linen shorts with a stretchy waistband and a tanktop that should have been a bit breezier but instead was rather tight, people would notice. Not everyone had arrived yet but you were anticipating a coming out of sorts. It made you nervous but you couldn’t really hide it anymore.

“So no alcohol for you then,” Erin snickered as she placed two bottles of wine on the outdoor table.

“Yeah. No booze for me for a bit,” you laughed with her. It was nice to have your best friend in the loop finally. You had wanted to tell her so many times. Nearly did the moment you saw the lines on the pregnancy test. But you just never found the right time to do it and selfishly you wanted to keep it a secret a little longer before everyone found out.

And just as you assumed, everyone who came, who knew you, took note of your obviously pregnant belly. Those who knew you asked about it, while those who didn’t didn’t. Most were perfectly polite. But your thoughts and attention were elsewhere because you were most nervous to see Harry. To face him and take in his reaction.

You were in the kitchen putting buns on a platter when he finally joined you. You hadn’t really looked in his direction much when he arrived because you were too nervous to see his face when he noticed your belly.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and disarming. You turned to look at him as he walked up behind you and squeezed your shoulders, “Gonna tell me what this is all about?”

You looked down at your tummy and then pulled another bun from its package and shrugged, “Well, I’m pregnant. What more should I say?” You laughed as you glanced at him and then back down to the platter. The words felt acrid because you knew why he was asking and now you were going to have to lie to him.

“I can see that, Y/n. How far along are you?” His expression was serious. He was clearly not in the mood for jokes and you could understand why.

Was he doing mental math? He probably was. Harry was not a dumb man. His first question to ask how far along you were indicated as much.

“About 5 months.”

It was silent for a moment. You crumpled up the plastic bag and looked at him and the expression on his face was telling.

“What?”

He shook his head and leaned his hip into the counter, taking the plastic from your hand, “Is it…” he took a breath and searched your eyes, “Is the baby…?”

You shook your head, “No. It’s Joe’s. Don’t worry.”

A full-on, flat-out lie. You hadn’t planned on lying directly like that but how could you tell him the truth? You’d already dug your hole so deep, might as well keep going.

“You sure? I mean… I thought you said that you two hadn’t… like… we didn’t use protection, Y/n,” he lowered his voice.

Letting out a breath you nodded, “Don’t worry, Harry. Really. You’re not on the hook for this. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Does Joe know?” You were surprised that he appeared… disappointed.

“No. Hardly anyone knows,” you laughed, “Well, after today everyone’s gonna know I guess.”

Harry carried the tray of buns outside for you. You told him you could do it. That you were on bun duty because it was one thing Erin would allow you to help with. But he insisted. In fact the rest of the afternoon he was doing lots of small things for you. Once you were seated to eat he gathered up all the sauces and brought them to you, asking which you’d like and spooning them onto your plastic plate. He refilled your cup with water every time it got low, helped you stand up when you started to get out of your chair after eating, and then brought you a cupcake when you mentioned to Erin how good they looked.

But Harry was kind of always like that. He was the sort of friend that did nice things for all of his friends. Except there was something this time. Perhaps it was just your own perception of it based on the little secret you had, but his attention was not taken for granted. You appreciated his kindness.

And before he left he pulled you to the side and hugged you into his broad chest, “Let me know if you need anything. Okay?” He cupped your face in his hands to look at you.

You nodded, “Okay. Thank you, Harry.”

. . .

Harry learned you hadn’t gotten a paternity test when he talked to Erin about you. You had made it seem like you were sure it was Joe’s but how could you be so sure? The timing was suspicious to him, especially since you told him, the night you two had sex, that Joe hadn’t touched you in over a month. And that’s kind of what put everything into motion with Harry coming on to you. He felt like when you told him that, you were laying down some kind of hint. So that part he remembered clearly.

But he remembered everything quite clearly from that night. He might have been a bit tipsy but there wasn’t a moment he’d forgotten. Like how he orgasmed inside of you. And how after he’d come you both laid together with his cock still inside of you as he gently rocked in deeper, which he was now sure had only pushed his come further into you.

And that had been so dumb. Of both of you. You asked him to come inside of you and he did without question. That was where his horny/tipsy brain let him down. But what choice did he have except to believe you when you told him the baby wasn’t his?

He wouldn’t press the issue but he wasn’t going to ignore his suspicions either. He’d push them down and choose to believe you but not without being a bit more watchful.

. . .

Once all your friends knew you were pregnant word spread a little faster than you preferred. You just hoped that it wouldn’t get back to Joe because if it did you’d have to confess that you lied and then all hell would break loose. Or that’s how it felt anyway. Maybe that was a bit dramatic of you with whole hell-breaking-loose talk but you were allowed to be dramatic!

All your life you’d done things the normal way. Under the radar. Never causing so much as a peep when you didn’t like something just so you wouldn’t offend anyone. You put up with a lot of shit from other people who didn’t take your thoughts and feelings into account.

So now things were different. It was like being pregnant had changed you. Where you once were a quiet doormat, now you were a bit louder with demands.

“Jesus. What’s gotten into you?” Erin laughed when you plopped down onto your couch after you just told her you had no desire for a baby shower and to drop it.

You put your hands on your belly, “This. I think being pregnant has like changed my brain chemistry or something. I have no patience for bullshit anymore. And a baby shower? Really, Erin? That sounds awful.”

Erin sat down next to you and put her hand on your bump, “I like the new you. And I can’t wait to meet this little one who’s giving you this new attitude.”

You laughed, “Yeah. Me too. The closer it gets the more scared I am but also really excited in a way.”

“You realize I’m throwing you a baby shower whether you say yes or not. I love your new gives-no-shits approach lately but come on, Y/n. You need things and if Joe isn’t going to pitch in then you need help from all your friends.”

You knew she wasn’t going to give up on the baby shower idea. You felt like a fraud, though. Gifts and a whole afternoon spent in your honor because you went and had sex without a condom?

“I know you’re gonna do it anyway. All I ask is that you don’t make some big announcement. I don’t want Joe to know about it or anything.”

Erin sighed, “Why don’t you tell him, Y/n? He could help you with everything too. And I know you two broke up but it’s something to think about ya know? Like he could pay child support and you’d have the father listed on the birth certificate and it’s good for like, health stuff too. Like anything that could be hereditary from Joe?”

Pursing your lips you looked toward the window. You’d already decided on telling Harry at some point. You’d gotten past the whole single mom, doing it on her own BS when the doctor told you the same thing. How important it could be to know the baby’s father’s medical history. You just hadn’t figured out when to tell him yet. Timing would be important but the shame of having lied all along was really what was keeping you from telling him.

“You’re right. The doctor told me the same thing. But, it’s not that easy…” your pulse increased as you looked at Erin. You didn’t know why but you felt the need to tell her everything. To come right out and just tell her. She was your best friend after all. You could trust her not to say anything.

“I know it’s not easy but come on… he’s gonna figure it out at some point. He was just at Seth’s house the other night when I went to pick up Marcy. Seth’s cousin knows you’re pregnant and so do half of his friends and if Seth finds out you know Joe will find out.”

Sighing you leaned your head back into the couch cushion behind you, “It’s not Joe’s.”

Erin was silent for a moment and then you felt the couch shift as she angled herself to face you, “Okay. And do you know who the father is?”

Nodding you turned your head to look at her, “Don’t say anything to anyone. But it’s… Harry.”

Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as she stood up and paced in front of the couch, “Harry Styles? Our Harry?” She stopped and looked at you, shock on her face.

“Yes. That Harry.”

She continued pacing, “How? When did… but…”

“It was just one night. Right after Joe broke up with me we went out and he came back home with me and then that was it. Got knocked up from just the once.”

“Holy shit… Okay… Okay…” Erin sat down and took your hand into hers, “Harry’s a really good man. I just know he’d be supportive and loving with the baby. I actually think Harry being the father is way better. This is actually,” she puffed out a laugh, “This good news! Oh my god, this is… and I think you two would make the best couple. He’s always had a crush on you and–“

“Stop,” you put your hand up, “One thing at a time. Okay? I’m not thinking about any kind of romantic relationship right now. I’m just concerned with getting this thing out of me healthily and figuring out how to tell Harry in the first place.”

“So you’re gonna tell him. Okay… Listen… I’m not going to tell anyone. You already know that. But this, Y/n… this is good. Okay? Harry and you? You don’t need to be thinking about the future of your relationship with him right now but you’re set, girl. If Harry’s the dad? But you better figure out how to tell him soon. He’s been talking to some chick he works with. I don’t think it’s anything serious but still…”

Rolling your eyes you shook your head, “I’ll figure out when to tell him. It’ll be when I’m ready. And if he starts seeing this other chick then good for him. He deserves happiness.”

Erin scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah sure.”

. . .

You didn’t realize how much it would affect you seeing Harry with someone else. The girl was cute. She was nice and her perfume smelled pleasant (which was good because you were very sensitive to smell as of late and most scents made you want to puke).

Harry had stopped by at Erin’s to drop off a few things he picked up for your upcoming baby shower while you were there and the girl was with him because they were on their way to a movie. A date.

The introduction was nice enough but you didn’t like it all. You hadn’t expected to feel the way you were. And it was your fault in a way. Maybe things would be different if you’d just told Harry already.

“How’s our baby, doing?” Harry put his palm on your stomach and you could have burst into tears. The “our” baby was innocent. Your tight-knit friend group all called the baby our baby, but somehow in that moment it just hit different.

Swallowing down your emotions you put on a smile, “It’s good! Super healthy. Just another month and a half and I’ll get to meet the baby. It’s gonna be big, though. Doctor says it might be close to 9 lbs.”

Harry blinked and slid his palm down the thin material of your flowy maternity shirt over the bump and looked at you as if he was trying to speak paragraphs to you in a glance, “Wow. That’s… big. And how’s the mommy? Are you feeling okay?”

You nodded and looked from the girl who was standing next to Harry looking at your massive tummy and then back up to Harry, “Feeling tired. And this thing is huge and heavy. But we’re healthy, so…” you shrugged and Harry removed his hand from your tummy but he kept his eyes on yours.

“I’m glad you’re healthy. That’s the most important thing. Oh, and here,” he walked toward the table where he placed the shopping bags and pulled out a box of your favorite pistachio and vanilla cookies from the bakery you loved. “Made an extra stop to pick these up for you.”

Erin and Harry’s girlfriend or whatever she was stood and watched as your eyes teared up and Harry handed you the small container. He had been nothing but sweet and helpful to you during your pregnancy and all the regret you already had about not telling him came pouring out of your eyes in that moment. It was ridiculous.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You still like these yeah?”

You nodded as Harry pulled you into his arms, though the big bump in your tummy made it hard to have a proper hug, “I’m fine. Just emotional some days. Thank you, Harry. This is so so kind of you.”

You hated that this chick Harry was with had seen that. Hated that you were so sensitive and that Harry was with someone else. Hated that you looked like a bloated beluga and that your thighs were aching for no fucking reason. You hated that despite the gross feeling in your gut you wanted to devour the cookies like a starved madwoman.

“You want me to stay? Want to talk?” His deep voice in your ear as he rubbed your back was calming. And if you were a sliver more selfish than you already were you’d say yes and have him stay with you and skip the date entirely and you’d revel in watching the disappointment on his date’s face when he told her he was choosing you over her. Even though she was nice, that would have still felt really good.

But you wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t interrupt Harry’s plans that way. Looking up at him you shook your head, “No. That’s okay.”

The look on his face slowly transitioned from strangely hopeful and soulful to something like defeat. Disheartened. You pulled at his hand and smiled before mouthing thank you.

When Harry and the girl left Erin sighed, “I don’t mean to be nosy or push you or make you feel like you’re doing something wrong but I really think you should tell him and do it soon. Did you see the way he was looking at you? Y/n… I know you saw that. He’d drop everything for you. He’d break up with that girl and I guarantee the moment you tell him it’s his he’d do anything. That man is smitten with you.”

You shook your head and took a bite of a cookie, “No he’s not. Look at me? I’m a mess. Everything is puffy, I can hardly move… look at this!” You lifted your hand up to show her your swollen fingers.

Erin laughed and pushed her fingers through yours, “Beautiful. You’re gorgeous. Glowing. An entire life is being grown right here,” she put her hand over your tummy, “And Harry Styles is in love with you all while thinking this baby is someone else’s. Mark my words, Y/n. The moment you tell him is the moment you’re gonna learn how far gone he is for you and how he’d do anything to make you happy.”

You laughed and shook your head but you did wonder. Because Harry had been a certain way with you since the day he learned you were pregnant. His doting and his gentleness were not something you could ignore.

. . .

The morning of the baby shower had been good. Your mother took you to get breakfast and you both walked together along the path near the lake for some exercise and fresh air. The only two people in the world who knew about Harry being the father were your mother and Erin. Your mother had met Harry before and she was quite fond of him. Everyone was fond of Harry, though.

“I just don’t understand why you haven’t told him, Y/n.”

“Well, it’s because I lied about it, Mom. I wasn’t thinking clearly at the beginning of the pregnancy. I don’t know if it was hormones or scrambled brains or what… Now I’m sort of regretting it but I’ll figure it out. He’ll know soon. I just need to figure out how to break it to him.”

“How to break it to him? Well, maybe something like… Hey, you. You knocked me up. This baby is actually yours and not Joe’s. Sorry for the inconvenience but that’s the deal.” Your mom laughed, mimicking your voice.

You laughed and shook your head, “Yeah it’ll probably be something like that. I just hate that I lied about it. Because I’m not a liar. I thought I was doing it to protect myself… I don’t even really know what I was thinking but I will tell him. Soon.”

When you arrived at your apartment most everyone was already there. Including Harry. The place was filled with little decorations and baby things. A table overflowing with presents and some sat on the floor next to the table. Another spot where there was food.

You didn’t know what the sex was going to be and didn’t want to know until the moment it was born so the decorations were neutral colors with a few splashes of blue and pink here and there. It was cute.

“There you are…” Harry swooped in and took the tray of goodies your mom was holding and he kissed her cheek, “Nice to see you! How have you been?”

You and your mother followed him to the kitchen, your mother giving you a knowing glance before she responded, “Just great. Everything is pretty much the same as it was since I last saw you, except now my baby is pregnant.”

Harry chuckled and once the tray was placed on the counter he draped his arm over your shoulder and hugged you, “And how are you?”

He always asked how you were. Always offered to help. Often would buy you random things he thought might make your pregnancy easier. Creams, pads for your back, nausea bands, teas…

“I’m good. Closer and closer. How are you, Harry?”

Soft pink lips turned up as he kept his sparkling green eyes on you, “Good. Happier now that you’re here.”

You rolled your eyes at him and just as you were about to retort Erin popped into the kitchen, “The lady of the hour! Come! I have to show you something!”

The baby shower was relatively fun. But it was tiring. It lasted longer than you had anticipated and you tried not to complain. Opening every present was a bore. A full-on snooze fest. Most things were just practical stuff you’d need. Lotions and powders, things to make bath time easier and safer, diapers, bottles, cleaning things for said bottles, a special baby food blender, onesies, socks, bibs, blankets… But you didn’t complain because you didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

It was a sea of pastel yellow, green, creamy whites… The cake was good, though. And finally, when everyone started to leave you felt like you could breathe. Having a small apartment packed full of people felt like you were a zoo animal on display. But the remainder were welcome and you appreciated that some straggled behind to help clean up.

Your mother left once all the dishes were clean and put away and then it was just you, Erin, your roommate, Harry, and two others who were helping put things away so you didn’t have to lift a finger.

You were sitting on the couch with your legs propped up on a pillow when Harry sat down by your feet and pulled them into his lap.

“Hey!” You laughed and started to pull away from him but the moment his thumb mushed into the tender part of your sole you gave in and relaxed your limbs.

“That was easy. Thought you’d gripe a bit more. Feels good yeah?”

You nodded, “It does feel good, actually. My feet are so swollen, though. Sorry.”

Harry continued kneading at your feet, rubbing sore spots and you were working to hold back your moans, “Stop it. Your feet look fine. This is normal anyway isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah but still. Even my fingers are puffy,” you laughed.

Erin sat down on the chair near the TV and smirked at you, “Y/n doesn’t believe it when I tell her she’s glowing. She’s sexy as a pregnant woman isn’t she Har?”

You narrowed your gaze at Erin in warning.

Harry laughed, his eyes on yours, “I think she’s just as lovely as always. Pregnancy definitely suits her.”

Everyone else joined in the living room and you moved your feet from Harry with a quick thank you as you felt the baby kick. You put your hand on your tummy and gasped, “It’s kicking!”

“Can I touch?” Your roommate asked as she moved from her spot to make her way to you.

“Yeah. Go ahead,” you smiled and showed her where to put her hand. But there was no movement. You poked at the spot and groaned, “Ahhh… a tease, this one.”

Erin walked over and put her hand on your tummy. Nothing. The baby didn’t budge. It often did this. Whenever you’d feel it move it stopped moving for anyone else. Not even your own mother had the chance to feel the baby kick in your belly.

Your two other friends also tested their luck, “It’s always like this. I’m the only one who’s ever gotten to feel it kick. I don’t know what it is.”

“You try,” Erin looked at Harry as she backed away to sit.

Harry licked his lips, “I mean… only if it’s okay. I don’t want to–“

“It’s fine. If you want to it’s okay. Really. Probably won’t move but ya know. Why not?” You laughed.

Harry scooted himself across the couch to sit right next to you as he placed his hand over your tummy where you pointed.

“Hey there, little one. Uncle Harry is here saying hello,” you watched Harry as he spoke in a soft tone. His deep voice had your skin prickling and your heart rate increasing. No one else really spoke to the baby and somehow seeing Harry do it drew the smallest bit of emotion up in your chest as he looked into your eyes and slid his thumb next to yours.

But then it kicked. The baby kicked and kicked again. Harry laughed and placed his other palm over your tummy so he was holding you with both hands and the little sucker was doing acrobatics all of a sudden.

“It’s never done that…” you spoke as you laid your palm over the space, “For anyone but me.”

“It’s kicking for me,” he grinned and his eyes softened as he cooed in a hushed voice looking down at his hands, “Hey baby. We can’t wait to meet you.”

“Maybe it’s your voice,” you whispered and Harry looked like he was in awe. Eyes twinkling with emotion.

“I feel so special.”

“Can I try again?” Erin stood over you two. Harry moved his hands away and the moment her palm took over the place Harry’s was the baby stopped moving again.

You laughed and felt around, jabbing gently into your tummy, “I don’t know why it’s doing this. Come on little human. Kick for Erin…”

You caught Harry’s gaze on yours. He had a small smile on his mouth and his cheeks were flushed.

Erin shook her head, “Ahh it’s okay. Now’s not my time.”

“We should probably get going.” The pair who arrived together both stood and said their goodbyes. Harry got up and went into the kitchen as you walked your friends to the door and thanked them for their help.

“Go talk to him,” Erin whispered in your ear.

“What?” You scrunched your face in confusion.

“Harry. Go talk to him. He’s in the kitchen and I think he’s upset or something.”

“Why would he be upset?”

Erin raised her brows at you and looked toward the kitchen and mouthed, “Just go.”

Sighing you waddled toward the kitchen and noticed Harry had his palms flat on the countertop as he looked downward at the platter of cupcakes silently.

“Hey…” you gently put your hand on his tricep, “Are you okay?”

He looked down at you and nodded, “I’m fine. Just… needed a minute. Felt like it was nonstop today ya know?” He pushed himself from the counter and let out a forced laugh.

“Okay. You seemed upset just then. Wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it before he shook his head, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Oh!” You reached for his hand and pulled over your tummy again.

The kicking was nonstop as long as Harry’s hand was on your tummy, “Hi there. You wanted to say hello again, didn’t you? I am flattered you seem to like me so much. I’m your favorite, aren’t I? Your secret’s safe with me little one,” he bent closer to your tummy to speak to the baby.

If he didn’t give you butterflies before, well that whole exchange certainly did. You were aware your hormones were going bonkers too. Just seeing Harry had put you into overdrive, though no one would ever know it. Who knew pregnant women got so horny? Your doctor told you it could happen but looking at his big hands on your bump, the soft smile on his face, the look of something that could easily be mistaken for fondness in his eyes had your head spinning.

You laughed when Harry looked up at you and stood back to his full height, “What? Baby likes me more than the others. Pretty sure we’re gonna be best buds.”

A small breath fell from your lips at the thought. At Harry thinking it.

“I sure hope so. Just a little over a month. Doctor says could be sooner due to the size.”

“Yeah. You said on track to be a big baby,” he smiled and looked down at his hand on your bump and then back at you, “Will you…” he cleared his throat, “Please let me know if there’s anything you need or want. I can, you know, help. And… if you go into labor I’d like to know. I’m sure you already have a plan with your mother and Erin but…” he trailed off his words as you put your hand over his.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything. You’ve already been so helpful, Harry. I’m beyond grateful for you. And when I go into labor I’ll make sure someone calls you.”

He nodded, “Thank you.”

There was something about that moment. How tender and vulnerable it was. Your eyes locked and his hand on your tummy with the baby kicking inside. His baby. And it felt like he knew it too. Like he could see through your bullshit and he was just waiting for you to tell him the truth. Praying you’d spit it out once and for all.

And that had stuck with you. The moment the baby had kicked for him was like a signal for you. Some kind of omen or something (not that you believed in those kinds of things). It was time to tell him.

“You wanna come over tomorrow and help me set up the crib?”

. . .

You slept like shit. Which wasn’t too outside of the norm since Harry’d gotten you knocked up. His massive baby was pushing on all your organs and made it hard to get comfortable in bed at night. And just when you’d start to doze off you’d need to pee or there was a sharp pain or your leg would cramp up.

In short, by the time Harry arrived the following day to help you set up the crib, you were in a terrible mood. You were still going to tell him the truth but you were unsure of how it would all go down now that your mood was spoiled. Where you’d been so hopeful before, now you were doubtful. What if he was repulsed?

You had wanted time alone with him. Your roommate was out so it would be perfect. It felt like it would be better to tell him when no one else was around.

He brought croissants and jam and your favorite cookies. The moment you saw him with the bakery box in hand and a warm smile on his pink lips your bad mood was suddenly lifted slightly. Just the sight of him was a breath of fresh air.

When he sat the box down he pulled you in for a hug and kissed your forehead, “How are you feeling today?”

You rolled your eyes because he was too perfect. Too sweet.

“I’m… well, I’m tired. Didn’t sleep much. This thing makes it hard to get comfortable and my back aches. But… we’ll survive.” You laughed it off.

Harry’s brows pinched together, “Okay. Let’s get you off your feet then. Here,” he pulled you into your bedroom where the unopened crib box was sitting. He gestured for you to sit down on your bed, “Sit.” He helped you scoot into the headboard and stuffed a pillow behind your back before he turned, “Let me grab the box in the kitchen.”

You watched him quickly exit your room and looked around yourself. He had no idea what kind of bomb you were about to drop on him. Your nerves were all over the place. You were sure that was part of why you didn’t sleep well the night before. You couldn’t put all the blame on Harry’s baby.

When he returned to the room with the pastry box and two plates, “Cookie first? Or croissant with jam?”

“Mmm…” you looked into the box, “… cookie I think first.”

“Cookie for mama… here you go,” he handed you a plate with a cookie and you huffed a laugh. God, just hearing him say that had your toes tingling.

Harry began to remove the parts from the box and handed you the instructions to read over, “Okay. Read to me what I need to do first.” He took a bite of a croissant.

“Attach small end panels A to posts D with lock washers and connector bolts. Here,” you turned it so he could see the figure in the picture with the parts and he began to put sections together as you read off the instructions.

You wound up getting up to help him even though he told you to stay put. You insisted anyway and handed him the small tools as you read the directions.

“This is so much more work than I thought it’d be,” he laughed as he tilted the nearly put-together crib upright.

You covered your mouth and looked at its frame. It was almost as if none of what was happening was real until you saw the crib there, at the foot of your bed with Harry’s hand on one of the corner posts.

He reached out to rub your arm, “You okay?”

Once again, your emotions and hormones were wrecking you. You sat down and Harry sat next to you.

Sniffing you nodded and laughed, “I’m okay. I just can’t believe there’s a crib in my room for a baby who’s going to be here sooner than I’m ready for.”

“I know it’s wild. I never really imagined what it’d be like to put a crib together before.”

You smiled sheepishly and looked down at your tummy. You wondered if the correlation between Harry being near you and making your heart race had something to do with the baby always kicking only for him. Especially when you looked into his eyes and he was looking at you like that.

“So, uh…” you laughed, “You still seeing that one girl from work?”

Harry cocked his head and looked at you with an amused smile, “Maybe. Why? You never once asked about girls I’m dating before.”

“Oh… I was just curious. You don’t have to answer or anything,” you frowned and moved to stand but your movement lacked grace and you only fell back into the bed and Harry put his hand on your back.

“I was teasing. You can ask me anything, Y/n. But it’s just casual. Haven’t been out with her in a couple weeks. Might not see her again outside of work.”

“Why not? She seemed really nice,” you were thrilled by the news but tried not to let just how thrilled you were show.

Harry laughed through his nose as he kept his eyes on yours, “Just cause. Kind of felt like I was leading her on a little. Never really was that into her.”

You nodded and pursed your lips to act casual but Harry’s hand was still on your back and your roommate was coming home soon and you needed to tell him. It felt like your room was closing in around you. It was time.

You inhaled deeply and swallowed, “Um… I need to tell you something. It’s kind of big and…” another deep breath and the feel of Harry’s hand soothingly rubbing your back that felt like he already knew what you were going to say as if he were coaxing it out of you gently. “Uh…”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

You smiled at him before closing your eyes and blurting out the words, “Joe’s not the father.”

Harry’s soft caresses slowed down as he pushed his hand upward to your shoulder, “I kind of had a feeling it wasn’t his.”

Popping your eyes open you looked at Harry, “You… didn’t think it was Joe’s?”

Harry shook his head, “Felt like you weren’t telling me everything. Are you gonna tell me who the father is then?” He raised his brows. He knew. He already knew. But he needed you to say it. To tell him. You could see it in his expression that he knew.

“Well, that kind of just leaves one person, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You tell me, Y/n.” He wasn’t going to make this easy but of course you deserved that.

Pushing out a breath you nodded and put your hand on your tummy, “It’s… you.”

Harry nodded his head as he kept his eyes on yours. You swallowed thickly when he removed his hand from your shoulder and stood up before running his fingers into his hair and began to laugh.

You didn’t know what was going through his head but his reaction was… well it wasn’t what you imagined and now you were wondering if you should have just kept it all in. Never told him or anyone the truth. Because letting another full human being into the mix was daunting. Harry had his own life and hobbies and he was dating and he was in the process of looking for a house to buy and he’d recently talked about getting a dog…

You started to spiral in your thoughts, regretting that you told him at all. Feeling like you’d just made a grave error when you felt Harry’s arm slide behind your back, “Hey… come on. Don’t cry…”

It hadn’t even dawned on you that you were crying. You were too overwhelmed by the feeling of rejection and embarrassment to take note that tears were pouring out of your eyes.

“Sorry!” You squeaked and hid your face in your arm, turning away from him.

Harry pulled you in closer and smushed his lips to your temple, “Shh…”

You gasped to catch your breath and felt the warm singe of embarrassment still frothing over your skin. The tears weren’t helping anything because now you just looked like a lunatic. Unable to form words or look him in the eyes. You’d even put on mascara before he came over so you’d look cuter when you told him he was the baby daddy.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” he spoke against your hair and ran his hand up and down your arm gently.

You laughed and buried your face into his clavicle.

“Can I tell you something, Y/n?”

You nodded, and a muffled okay came from your mouth as you kept your face tucked away.

“Can you look at me first?”

“Harry my face is gross. You don’t want to see this…”

“Nothing about you is gross. You’re breathtaking. Please look at me.”

Another puffed laugh fell from your mouth. Breathtaking. That was a bit of an exaggeration.

You slowly pulled your face away from his chest and tilted your head up to look at him. The grin on his face stretched upward and he ran his thumbs under your eyes, “Look at you. Nothing gross here. Bit of makeup down the face. You don’t need this stuff anyway,” he wiped the smudged mascara and you brought a hand up to wipe with him.

“Sorry… I should know better than to put mascara on these days. Everything makes me cry,” you ran your fingers under the delicate skin of your eyes as Harry continued wiping at your cheeks.

“It’s an emotional thing. All this. Good to get a cry in here and there.”

You laughed and sniffled. Harry didn’t let his pupils stray from yours.

“So, listen…” he inhaled, “I want to be with you. I have wanted that. When I learned you and Joe broke up I thought that was my chance. But then we slept together and I thought you regretted it. You kind of acted funny around me for a bit after that so I backed off. But really, I wanted to scoop you up and make you mine. Figured maybe you just needed time to get over Joe.”

You were stunned. You blinked your eyes and shook your head, “You… I thought…” A breath fell from your lips.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me like that. But I do want to be part of this,” he placed his hand on your pregnant belly, “This is ours. I want to help. I want to do everything I can to be there for you.”

“You want to be with me? Like…” You blinked in disbelief.

“Yes. Like I’m in love with you.”

He’d just blurted it out so casually. As if you weren’t in a delicate state and that sentence couldn’t send you to your grave. As if those words wouldn’t have your head spinning and your heart raging behind your ribcage. As if him loving you was the most obvious thing.

“Wha– you… I’m surprised. I… love?”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should have waited for that one. But you did just tell me I’m the dad so… call it even,” he laughed.

“You’re laughing? Harry… this is…” you started to tear up again as you pushed at his chest. He’d waited all this time to admit he was in love with you and somehow it just seemed unfair, “You should have told me. This would have all been so different.”

“And you should have told me, Y/n. I could have been here with you. Could have driven you to every appointment and we could like… talk about everything and… be together. If you even want that.”

He was right of course. If you’d just told him sooner maybe everything would have fallen into place. Maybe it would’ve been easier.

“Well, what do you think?”

“You’re right. I should have told you much sooner. So this is my fault. I’m… I just didn’t expect you to tell me you love me.”

Harry folded his big palm over your hand and pulled your fingers between his, “I tried doing everything I could to make it obvious to you. I’m still wondering what you think about it, though.”

“It’s... I really like you. I haven’t thought about it too deeply, though. I didn’t want to focus on you too much because you were dating that girl and–“

“Forget about her. Took her to one movie. Went out to lunch twice. Not so much as a peck on the cheek. Would’ve flaked on our date had you told me to stay that one day. Remember that?”

You nodded and smiled, “Yeah. I do.”

“So tell me what you think. Just be honest. I can handle it. I’m a big boy, Y/n.”

You forced air through your nose, “Okay. I like you. I think it would be nice to be in a relationship with you and do this together. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s in the past. So, you wanna be with me?”

You nodded. It all didn’t feel real. Harry was this gorgeous man, the whole package with his shit together while you were a swollen, hormonal, puffy-faced girl who had no idea what she was doing.

“Good. Now, I promise I’ll finish the crib but can I kiss you? Want to kiss you so bad.”

You sputtered out a laughed yes and rolled your eyes but Harry slid his hand to the back of your head and cut off your exasperated laugh with his mouth over yours. And all the apprehension and uncertainty, the disbelief and the worry melted away as his lips smushed against yours.

And as it was, you were already halfway there – to horny. Lately, that’s just how you were; Always at the tip of horny and tired. But when his tongue slipped into the seam of your lips your response was to push your tongue against his and place your fingers through his hair, nudging yourself closer.

You didn’t stop there, though. Your other hand found his thigh and you flexed your fingers over the dense muscle. The memory of the night you slept together came rushing back. His body was solid and broad and no matter where you touched him it lit your fingertips like flint.

He placed his hand over yours and pulled your fingers upward, “Y/n…” he breathed your name as if he needed to hear it spoken out loud again. It was desperate. Starved. The man was starved. You wondered if the last time he had sex was with you. Selfishly you hoped it was. And selfishly you hoped he’d want to fuck you again.

You felt his hand on your jaw and then his thumb press into your cheekbone, “I missed this mouth, Y/n. I need you…”

He drew his mouth down to your neck and you felt him tongue at your pulse point. A shattered moan escaped your throat when he collared one side of your neck with his big palm and continued brushing his lips on the other.

“I need you too, Harry…” The sentence drizzled into the air like a steamy mist. And then his hand was on your breasts. Your very tender and achy breasts, “Oh god!”

Harry parted from your neck, “Are you okay?”

“I’m… god I’m just…” you didn’t want to say it but you needed it. Needed him. Craved him, “Really, really turned on. It’s been like this for a bit. It’s my hormones.”

Harry pushed a laugh through his nostrils, his heavy gaze dropped to your blouse-covered breasts and then back to your eyes, “Hormones? Is there anything I can do to help with that problem?”

His question was cheeky. The edge of his lips flitted upward teasingly and you laughed, “Yeah. I think you can help.”

Harry licked his lips and pressed his nose against yours, “Tell me what I can do. What do you need?”

His breath was humid against your mouth as you reached for him with puckered lips, an attempt to just get back to it but he backed away from you, dimples carving into his cheeks, “Ah ah ah… I asked you what you needed, Y/n. What’s gonna make you feel good?” His fingers trailed down over the fabric on your blouse.

“I want to have sex. You’re the only man who’s ever made me come and I can’t stop thinking about that night.”

“Really? No one else has ever made you come before?”

You shook your head, “No one else.”

A sudden visage of something like pride and plume took over his face, “And you want that again, do you? Want me to make you come, Y/n?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s hands were gentle as he pulled you back into his arms and smeared his mouth over yours until you found yourself lying on your side facing Harry with his hands on your round belly, “This is mine? I did this to you?”

“Yep. Got me knocked up on the first try,” you splayed your hands over his as he brought them down to the stretchy hem of your blouse and bunched at the material to move it out of his way and expose your tummy.

“It’s not cute. I’m sorry,” you watched as your shirt was lifted and Harry was confronted with the sight of skin stretched tight over your belly.

Dragging his fingers over your bump and to your tits he shushed you, “So cute. The cutest. That’s my baby in there. And you’re so sexy like this.”

He sat up to his knees and helped you out of your top, revealing the thick strapped greige maternity bra that fully covered every inch of your breasts. With his eyes on yours, he reached around to your back to unhook the tiny metal clasps until your straps shimmied free.

His lips parted as he peeled the fabric away from your engorged tits, “Oh fuck, baby…” He pawed at them and softly kneaded in his palms over the flesh, “Feels okay? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Yes. It feels so good with your hands on me.”

He moaned as his pupils roved every inch of your skin, dipping down to pull his tongue over and around your nipples only stopping to softly suck before his plush lips feathered kisses down your torso and the sides of your belly.

His fingers slid into the waistband of your pants, “Taking these off, all right?” He peered up at you.

Your chest was already heaving as if you were in the middle of being fucked and you nodded, “Okay.”

The nice thing about maternity wear was that it was easy to remove. Harry got you out of your cotton and lycra pants before you had time to feel shy about letting him see the kind of mess you’d made of your panties. Also greige like your bra.

“And clearly we need to get you out of these things too, Y/n,” he tutted as he cupped the meatiest part of your hips with his palms, “Don’t we?”

You giggled and nodded, “I know it’s a mess. I just can’t help it. The doctor said it’s normal to be like this.”

“Poor thing,” he looked down at the wet stain at the front of your panties, “Could’ve been taking such good care of you all this time.”

You felt your panties slip down your hips before cool air hit your wet pussy and you closed your eyes, “Sorry. Haven’t shaved down there or anything since… well…”

Harry’s graveled moan was accompanied by the feel of his hands on the insides of your knees as he pushed you open, “It’s beautiful.”

You opened your eyes to look down at him between your legs and his dark pupils were already on yours, “Really?”

“Really. Everything about you is so…” he smoothed his palms up the insides of your thighs from your knees and then paused, “I forgot. It’s not good for you to be on your back too long. Isn’t that right?”

You laughed and pushed yourself up by your elbows, “Yeah. That’s true. Did you read that somewhere?”

He nodded, “Not ashamed to admit I did in fact read that somewhere. So, would you like me to eat you out? And if so,” he teased his fingertips into your thighs, “What’s most comfortable for you?”

“I mean, yeah I’d like that but… truly unnecessary given the state I’m in.”

“The state you’re in? You mean pregnant?”

You chuckled, “I mean given how horny I am. I’m just saying you don’t need to prep me or anything.”

“Oh, I can see you need no prepping. It’s not so much about that as it is just making you feel good. Get comfy. I’m gonna lick your pussy.”

Another laugh fell from your chest when you heard the front door to your apartment close. Esie was home.

Harry clambered off the bed and shut your door in haste, “Fuck. I didn’t know she was coming back so soon.”

You scooted yourself back into your pillows, “We’ll just keep it quiet. But I do have one request.”

He raised a brow at you as he returned to your bed placing one knee on the pillowtop mattress with his palms down as he awaited your request.

“Can you take your shirt and pants off? I feel really… on display like this while you’re fully dressed.”

Harry grinned and pushed himself back to plant both feet onto the floor as he pulled his shirt off and then worked at his jeans, bringing them down his legs. You didn’t care that Esie was home. You needed to be fucked. You needed Harry. And the more skin and ink he revealed the more your mouth watered.

Just like 8 months before, he was an impressive sight. All tall and lean muscle (but kind of soft in some spots), inky drawings over long, well-thewed arms, and a broad torso with pecs you could bite into.

He climbed back into bed with you, quickly invading your space with the expanse of his body swathing over you like a mantle before he brought his hands to cradle your face and pressed his lips against yours.

He lowered his palms and groped at your tits, a bit rougher this time, but it only elicited a lewd mewl from your throat. Sensitive as they might be, having Harry touch you at all could only be a good thing.

“You like that, do you?” Harry spoke against your lips with a jesting tone.

You responded with a squeaky bleat to the affirmative when you felt him put pressure on your nipple, smushing it just between his thumb and middle finger.

He licked up from your bottom lip and ran his tongue over yours when you felt his fingers reaching for your other nipple.

Two loud knocks on your door startled you both, “Hey I’m home! Just letting you know!”

“Okay, thanks, Esie!” You and Harry quietly laughed as he put his palms on your knees.

“Do you think she was just telling you she was home, or reminding you to keep it down in here because she could hear us?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean… I doubt she thinks I have a guy in my bed right now. Much less it being you.”

Harry’s grin softened and he resumed from where you left off before Esie interrupted, this time his lips started at your neck. You relaxed back into the pile of pillows as you watched Harry slowly move further away until he was mouthing at your hips and peering up at you.

But then you felt his finger. It was just one but you felt it tickle at your crease. He ran it lightly along the seam of your pussy up and down before finally dredging in, parting your labia, and slicking it through your pussylips, completely wetting his finger.

Harry kissed at your mons and the curve of where your belly began to extend upward before bringing his lips back down closer to your throbbing clit but not quite there.

When he circled his finger at your slick entrance you rocked your hips, needing to feel his finger pushing inside of you. He kissed your skin at the apex of your thigh with a smacking sound and then finally thrust in, reaching through your insides and then pulled back, hooking his finger upward so it bumped into your spongy g-spot.

But the moment you felt his warm mouth kiss your clit and then tongue all around the tender and needy nub you gasped and reached down to put a hand in his hair, “Yess…”

Harry was surprised by how turned on you were. Slippery and puffy and he’d hardly touched you. But he’d read about how some pregnant women can be very horny until the end of the pregnancy. Ever since the day he learned you were pregnant, even though you told him it wasn’t his, he still learned what he could. Everything from how the body changes and what you might be going through and feeling, to nutritional needs, as well as the best sex positions (he was just a man after all). He never knew most of the things he learned and he was glad for it now that he was getting to have you again.

He wished you’d have told him, though. Wished he could have been there for you emotionally and physically… whatever you needed he’d have done it. But god it would have been so sweet to have been able to call you his girlfriend and show you off to everyone then take you home and fuck your horny little pussy every night.

No need to dwell on the past, though. He was absolutely over the moon that you finally told him and that his suspicions were correct. He was ecstatic you wanted to be with him so he’d make the most of it.

And the small squeaks and pants you were making as he fingered and sucked your clit were all good sounds. Hot. You were hot. So fucking sexy. He really loved how needy you were too. As big as your tummy was, you were grinding your hips down over his finger and lifting into him.

He couldn’t see your face from his spot but your fingers in his hair and the quiver of your thigh told him all he needed to know.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, quiet as you could, “Ohhh… shitshitshit!”

Your pussy pulsed and squeezed at his finger as you began to come. You draped your free arm over your mouth to cover up the gasps and hitched breaths as much as you could.

He’d never in his life made anyone come so fast. He had hardly gotten himself warmed up but there you were, shaking and sighing as you orgasmed into his mouth and around his finger.

When you began to close your thighs around his head and roll to your side to escape his mouth he pulled his finger from your pussy and gripped onto your hips to keep you still so you didn’t fling yourself off the bed.

He sat up and looked you over, smoothing his hands over your arms and to your tummy, “That feel good?”

You laughed and nodded, “Umm. Yeah, I’d say that felt good.”

Harry leaned down and peppered kisses to your tummy and pushed you to your side before he tucked himself behind you and pulled your back to his chest where he began to smush wet kisses to your neck, “You came so fast. You’re so sensitive, Y/n.”

“Mmmm…” you closed your eyes and then felt the bulk of his cock pressing into your backside. He was still wearing his boxer briefs. You pushed your ass back against him and heard a lusty moan vibrating over your ear.

You wanted more, unsurprisingly. Every time you masturbated lately it was two or three orgasms per go, which had never been the case before you got pregnant.

Harry rutted into you, his cock solid and aching. He hadn’t had sex with anyone since you and now he was desperate to get his cock wet. Desperate for you. No one else did it for him after you.

“Getting my underwear all wet,” he breathed his words between kisses and rocks of his hips, “You need some more, Y/n?”

Harry’s hands were cradling your tummy and rubbing at your tits as he humped against you and you nodded into your pillows, “I need more. Want you inside of me.”

Music to his ears. “Yeah? Need so much from me, don’t you? Need my baby in your womb, and my cock deep inside at the same time?”

“Fuck… yes I do…”

Harry leveraged himself up by one arm and pulled his underwear down his legs as fast as he could manage. His cock was throbbing and weeping at the tip already. He hoped he didn’t disappoint this time around because he was certain he wasn’t going to last long.

You turned to watch him and reached down behind you to wrap your fingers around his cock as he settled back onto his side. You felt the dribble of precome at his slit and spread it down his cock slowly, “I just wanna make sure… I know we slept together without a condom once but, like… I don’t know if you were sleeping with anyone else or–“

“You’re the last person I slept with. But we can–“

You moaned, cutting off the rest of his statement where he was about to suggest a condom, “Oh good. Just fuck me then.”

Angling his thick cock to your entrance you raised your hip to guide him in and with an easy thrust forward he spread your pussy apart and drove into you languidly. You both moaned in relief. You kept yourself turned to look at him as he entered you until he was pasted against your ass.

When he reared back and pushed in you laid your head down on the pillow. Every inch of him getting stuffed into you was filthy and wet sounding.

Harry kept a slow pace as he buried himself in and pulled back before thrusting into your sloppy wet hole. His balls were already squeezing as he rocked into you, “Pussy feels so good, Y/n. Fuck baby…”

You slid your fingers over your clit and buried your face into the pillow as you moaned his name. He could hear your muffled noises and he leaned back so he could see as he split you apart on his cock.

Everything was wet between your legs as he watched himself slide in and out, his cock coated in your cream already. Sloppy thrust after sloppy wet thrust. He dragged his thumb over the space of your pussy where you were gripping around him as he rolled into you, feeling the way you stretched for him.

You felt the liquidy heat of your orgasm slowly seeping through your nerves and your organs with every slick plunge of his cock. He filled up the space of your pussy just right, every stroke of him through your aching core glided against all your secret little crevices, bumping your g-spot and slithering through to your guts.

You’d done well to keep quiet as quiet as you were. You’d gotten good at quietly coming over the years of having a roommate. But Harry was testing this skill of yours.

“Wrapped around my cock like you needed it, baby. Listen to how creamy you are,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth before continuing to whisper into your ear, “All for me. Gonna make you come as many times as you want. Buy you a house where we can raise our little family together. Fuck all my babies into you…”

Harry didn’t know exactly what he was saying. He was delirious; holding back his orgasm as he felt you trembling around him. He grunted as he continued, “Gonna keep you satisfied, take care of you and our baby. Protect you…”

His words weren’t all that filthy. Not as filthy as they could have been but somehow the talk of raising a family with him and protecting you pushed you off the precipice and over the edge. You bit your lip and your whole body trembled as you hastened your fingers on your clit.

“Shit… holy shit…” Harry breathed out when he felt you coming around him and practically convulsing in his arms. You moaned as quietly as you could but his hips were slapping into your ass as he fucked you through your release.

You’d never come so hard in your life. You were sure it was because you were having actual sex with a man you’d wanted for so long all while your hormones were going haywire. Your pussy pulsed and fluttered, clenching on Harry’s cock as he squeezed his eyes closed and choked out a gasp, gluing his hips to your bum, grinding in and began to pump his come into your cunt.

He thought he could wait until you were done but you kept coming and shaking, your pussy vibrating over him like a siphon trying to milk him. He couldn’t resist, “Fuck!”

His cock throbbed violently inside of your warm channel as he emptied every drop of himself into you, holding you close as he rutted inward, dredging his cock as deep into your pussy as it could go.

He felt your hand reach over his forearm and rub as he opened his eyes and caught his breath. You were sweaty and gorgeous lying on your side all fucked out with your eyes closed and a satisfied smile on your lips. He kissed your cheek and squeezed your bum in his palm.

“I love you, Harry.” You whispered.

You’d said it back, finally. Harry leaned over to see your face, “Say it again?”

Opening your eyes you sighed and turned your head to look up at him, “I love you.”

Harry tilted your chin toward him and kissed your lips softly, “I love you, Y/n.”

It would have been bliss to have just stayed like that in Harry’s arms, with his soft pink lips dragging over your skin all night. Perhaps another round even. But there was the matter of the unfinished crib and your roommate, Esie who was about to find out about you and Harry.

“Promised you I’d finish the crib before I left,” he pecked at your cheek and sat up.

“Why don’t you stay the night?”

“You sure? That means Esie’s gonna know.” He grinned.

“I’m positive. I think it’s about time everyone knows.”

He couldn’t have agreed more.

. . .

Watching Harry holding your baby was like something out of a dream. He was standing, cradling her little head with his big palm and kissing her soft peach fuzz forehead between whispered words you couldn’t hear.

When he finally turned to set his eyes on you the look on his face was unlike anything you’d ever seen from him before. It was awe and love and overwhelm and joy all wrapped up in his eyes.

“I love her so much. And I love you. I can’t even describe–“ he blinked the tears from his eyes as his lip quivered and you reached out toward them.

“Come here. Sit with me.” You beckoned.

Harry sat next to you on the hospital bed and situated the little one into the crook of his arm between you two. You reached up and ran your fingers into his curls, “I love you, Harry. I’m so happy. Both of you make me happier than I’ve ever been. I’m glad we ended up together.”

Harry leaned in, carefully so as not to smush the precious life in his arms, and gave you a chaste kiss, “Me too, Y/n. I can’t believe how perfect she is. How amazing you are. I’m just blown away right now.”

You breathed out a laugh as you both stared down at the life you two had created. A beautiful sleeping bundle and she was all yours. All his. When her little lips stressed open and she let out the tiniest crackle of a yawn your heart felt like it was going to rupture from being so full of love.

“She’s beautiful, Harry. Look at her.”

“I know. I can’t take my eyes off her.”

You were exhausted but flying. Every kind of happy chemical; oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins were all flowing through your veins unencumbered. The labor was a difficult one, though. Harry’s baby was big. She came out at just under 9 lbs and you learned that Harry was a big baby as well. You cursed him a few times but after everything was said and done you couldn’t have been happier.

You fluttered your gaze from the man holding your child to the sweet little thing in his arms over and over. Your little family, all whole and healthy and happy.

“You should get something to eat, Harry. You haven’t eaten.”

He looked at you, those starry green eyes that could melt you right into your bed, “You just want to be alone with her don’t you?”

Shaking your head you laughed, “I mean that’s really not the motivation. I was just thinking about how we’re all healthy and it’s the most wonderful thing. But you haven’t eaten. I haven’t seen you eat anything since before I went into labor. It’s been like a whole day, more than a whole day, Harry. And while I scarfed down my jello and the little protein drink you were holding her and you haven’t left my side so you have to be hungry.”

“I am a little. I don’t want to leave, though. I feel like I have to be here in case anything happens…”

Cupping his cheek you shook your head, “Nothing will happen to us. The cafeteria is still open. You can get something and bring it up here. My mom won’t be back for another hour or so. Just grab a snack even. I need you healthy.”

Harry leaned into your palm and closed his eyes, “Okay.”

He placed your daughter into your arms and kissed your forehead as he gently caressed her cheek, “I’ve got the two most beautiful girls in the world. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“I think you’re just as emotional as I am right now,” you laughed. “Now. Let me have a minute alone with my daughter while you grab a quick snack.”

“Okay, Mom. You’re the boss.”

You took his hand, “Hurry back, Dad.”

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran

@luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou

@itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge

@damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @babybunharry @anothermannharry

@love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme

@butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry

@hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut @elidoho @bananabk9756

@gotdrxnkonu @freedomfireflies @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @lightsoutstyles

@certainlysyko @tiredinwinter @princessaxoxo @angeldavis777 @kissfromadove

@daphnesutton

[murdrdocs]

perv!virg!rodrick heffley who accidentally comes across your panties in the laundry room 18+

he’d been grumbling about doing his own laundry on the way to the basement, his laundry basket in hand while he mumbled complaints all aimed towards his mother who was attempting to teach him responsibility.

he was saying something along the lines of being in college not being synonymous with doing your own laundry, and then he runs into you on the stairs. the pretty neighbor that lives across from him. always sending him friendly smiles anytime you run into each other in the hallway.

a smile similar on your face now.

“oh, i’m sorry.” your voice is polite and sweet and rodrick is dazed instantly. he stutters out a reply, probably saying you’re not to blame, and then he staggers to the bottom of the stairs and into the empty laundry room.

he’s stuffed his clothes into the washer, put entirely too much detergent in there and started it up, and then he turns around and notices the pink thong on the floor.

he stands there for a second, weighing his options. and he decides that it would be the wrong thing to do to just keep it lying there for someone to take. he lives right across from you, so he’ll pick them up and return them to you of course.

but then the panties are heavy in his pocket, soft pink fabric out of place along the lint and loose change in his black jeans. that alone should be incentive for him to return them to you, but suddenly he’s unlocking his door and his roommate is out and he really can’t help the fact that he masturbates to the sight of your panties.

he tries to resist being an absolute creep about it, but rodrick has never been the best at impulse control and next thing he knows, he has the tiny number over his nose and he’s taking a deep inhale, incredibly satisfied that you’d dropped a dirty pair on your way out.

he’ll return them after. it’ll be a good lesson in responsibility, having been required to clean them and then muster up the courage to return them to their rightful owner.

… after he takes one more whiff.

[hairmetal666]

After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:

Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.

He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum

Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.

The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?

It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--

Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--

No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.

Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.

"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.

Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."

"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.

Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"

"Horror? Nothing in particular."

They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.

Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.

"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."

And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.

As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.

"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.

"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.

"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."

"It's nothing."

"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."

"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."

"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."

He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--

Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.

[eightstarr]

at the count of three — ellie williams.

summary: how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with them? ellie has an answer! just be cool and wait for the right moment— and the next. and maybe another one, just to be sure. if you get impatient, you can always take a deep breath and count to three! (years, that is)

warnings: slow burn (childhood friends to lovers <3), little bit suggestive but no smut!

notes: born from a piece of dialogue i wrote like, a year ago and completely forgot about but somehow a week later it's 4k words? idk you're welcome or i'm sorry!!! also yes they do spend almost every scene sitting together on a couch but that's what lesbianism is all about...

don't support the last of us franchise.

daily click. learn about palestine. donate and share!

・。.・゜✧・. ────

ONE!

A movie plays on the TV, a slightly tarnished DVD of an 80’s action flick starring some oily guy and the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen— Ellie doesn't remember much other than an obnoxiously epic soundtrack and lingering shots that made the plot twist too obvious about 20 minutes in. 

She's freshly eighteen; you’re ahead only by a couple months. It's a warm Friday night, Joel and your dad in the kitchen putting scraps together for a mildly healthy dinner, Ellie sitting on the very opposite side of the couch from where you are. It’s hot, she'd said, looking away from your comically insulted face that grew with every scooch she made from your side, a lame excuse to save her from the newly found (and fucking torturous) fluttering that sparks in her stomach whenever she sits too close to you.

From the kitchen comes the sound of a can hitting the floor, followed by Joel’s 'shit!' and then quickly, 'sorry, girls'. You chuckle, turning to Ellie and catching her staring at you. A wrinkle forms between your eyebrows at the same time a pink warmth floods her cheeks. “Dude, you’re not even paying attention.”

“I am,” a scoff, her eyes now strictly committed to the screen. “The noise distracted me,” she adds, knowing it didn't even make her flinch from the careful study of your side profile.

“Scaredy cat— ow!” a pillow crashes against your cheek, sudden enough to shock you, too soft to do any real damage. “What the fuck?”

Ellie raises her eyebrows and looks at you from the corner of her eyes, a smirk half hidden by her hand. “Don’t be rude, you're missing the best scene.”

You throw the pillow back and scoff when she catches it, your lips slightly pursed, the signature sign to tell you’re annoyed. It's almost identical to the replica of that gesture that sits at the end of her last journal entry, an overly dedicated sketch born from a wandering thought. She could make it more accurate, she thinks now, soften the line of your jaw, take the scar on your cheek a little more to the left.

The sound of water splashing from the TV catches her attention and Ellie snaps her head forward (lest she get caught staring again), just as the blonde haired love interest is walking out of a fancy looking swimming pool.

“She’s hot,” you say, fingers pulling absentmindedly at loose threads on the rip of your jeans. When Ellie doesn't say anything, you turn to look at her, “You don't think so?”

Her voice comes out a higher pitch than she’d like. “What—” she clears her throat before continuing to mumble, “I don't know, I guess.”

You laugh. “You guess?” 

“Yeah, I— I don't know, dude, I wasn't thinking about that.”

You watch the nervousness on her face, the gulp that passes her throat, the red under her freckles. Fondness tugs at your chest and your voice softens just slightly, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh my God. Ellie, it’s okay,” green eyes find your face and she sees you hesitate for a second before you shrug. “Who cares? It's just me.”

You make it sound easy. It's the most distinct thing Ellie remembers about this moment, how suddenly safety felt like the most obvious thing. TV light on your face, your arm over the back of the couch, the same eyes she's been looking at since she was fourteen. Of course it's okay. Everything else with you is easy, why wouldn't this be the same?

Ellie shifts on the couch, the distance between you turning quickly ridiculous— offensive, even. She’s embarrassed to have let her flusteredness get in the way, but the urge to be closer doesn't feel right either. Everything she does feels like too much, everything she says too intense. “How long have you known?” she asks.

You tilt your head, less of a question and more of a guidance, “Known that you…”

Ellie parts her lips, unsure of whether or not she’s gonna say it or how, trying to will the words to come out. And they do, she remembers it well, because it was the first and maybe the only time she was this direct about it. “That I like girls.”

The smile on your face is teeth-rotting sweet, but she only gets to bask in it for a second before you widen your eyes and lower your voice to a scandalized whisper. “You what?”

Ellie rolls her eyes, cheeks burning, “Oh, fuck you.”

Your laugh fills up the room and the fluttering in her stomach feels absurd at this point, like she would actually be able to feel those annoying little butterflies flying around if she were to press her hand against her abdomen. “Sorry, sorry,” you say, and for a terrifying second Ellie thinks maybe they're loud too, and you’re able to hear them. But then she looks at you and forgets about it, easy easy easy. “It’s really okay. You know that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. For once, there's not a glimpse of doubt about it to be found.

You watch another ten minutes of the movie in silence before your dad's head peeks out from the kitchen to call you both to the table for dinner.

Ellie has a habit of eating like it's her last day on earth. When you were both new residents of Jackson, hungry and scared and not at all used to the idea of a full plate of food twice a day, she couldn't help it. And you were the same, hence why your dad thought it would be good for you and Ellie to spend time together, which quickly turned to being around each other basically every minute of every day. But as the weeks passed, you seemed to be learning to adapt faster. A younger Ellie found this frustrating— especially after that time Joel complimented your table manners.

You’re just… nicer, she remembers saying, a stressed frown on her still childlike face, fiddling with a box of marbles she’d found under her new bed. She remembers how you pulled one out, your fingers brushing against her own for the first time ever, and held the clear crystal with green stripes next to her eyes, a satisfied smile at a practically perfect match. You’re nice too, Els, you’d said, shrugging your shoulders, the marble shoved inside your pocket, I think I just lie better.

Until that moment, Ellie had never thought about it that way; the fact that you could be pretending to feel more confident and comfortable than you really are to make yourself safer, to get people to like you. But when she asked, you swore you had never lied to Ellie. She used to drive herself mad thinking about that, a strange, confusing worry gnawing at her chest— she likes that you don't feel the need to lie, but what does it say about how you see her? Is it that you don't care if she likes you? Or worse, is it that you know that she already does?

You sit in front of her today at the same dinner table, four years later, and watch her practically inhale her bowl of pasta like no time has passed at all. You let out a snort and Ellie wonders if you can see it even now, if her constant thoughts of you are obvious even when she looks this busy.

"What?" she asks, an immediate frown on her face, though she's done you the honor of swallowing her mouthful before speaking.

"You're so gross," you say, chin resting on your palm, tilting your head like you're looking at some thought provoking art piece. Ellie thinks you'll leave it at that, but then you reach over and swipe your thumb over the red spot of sauce next to the corner of her lips, so soft she barely feels it. You watch her frown soften for a second before it becomes even deeper.

Ellie feels like her whole body is exploding with warmth, too hot under the hoodie she's wearing, too pink across her face. It's so obvious, she thinks, it's so— fuck, pull it together. Her gaze follows your finger as you bring it to your lips and lick off the sauce. “You’re disgusting,” she retorts lamely, her hand rough when she brushes it over her mouth, lest you notice another stain and she has to watch you do that again.

You are familiarly not deterred by her meanness. Or her attempt at it. "And you eat like a five year old,” you shrug. “I guess we both have our issues."

Ellie catches herself staring at your hands for the rest of the meal, certain that she's never noticed them in the same way before. How much time has she been wasting? You both have your issues, you'd said, but Ellie thinks she has you beat. Yours can't possibly be anywhere near this dangerous.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

TWO!

Someone's knocking on her door. Ellie sniffles and lets out a groan as she gets up from the couch, sore throat, her limbs heavy and tired. She knows it's you because it's always the same three knocks; the first two firm and loud, a pause, and then one tiny one that sounds almost like 'sorry'. You’re impatient but still painfully afraid to be rude— if she loved you a little less, Ellie thinks she would make fun of it a lot more. But alas, she's cursed to smile at it every time.

She opens the door and the breeze that slips in makes her fall immediately into an embarrassing coughing fit. “It’s fine,” she mutters, at the same time you’re saying jesus christ, Ellie. “Shit. I’m okay,” she clears her throat and finally gets a moment to look at you, all pretty and put together in your best shirt and a freshly showered scent, the sun setting behind you like a perfect frame. Ellie prays her lungs don't betray her again and tries to make the brush of her hand over her messy hair look casual instead of desperate.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to the party with me for just a few minutes, but… I’m not sure you should be out of bed,” your worried frown is pretty, too. What a cruel fate. “Is Joel home? I can stay—”

“No, no, you’re good,” Ellie shakes her head, arms crossed over her chest like maybe it’ll cover up enough and you won't notice she was wearing the same long sleeve the last time you saw her. “He’ll be here in like, five minutes. I’ll be fine, ’m not a baby.”

You’re both nineteen by this time, Ellie remembers because you wore the same pretty blue shirt that you're wearing now for her birthday, and it was the day she realized her crush was no longer deniable. It's easier to act like nothing’s happening when she feels like she's alone in it, like there's no universe where you could love her like she loves you so she might as well let the fantasy die— but then you put on your shirt that's reserved for special occasions just to come over and bring her the cupcake you made, and suddenly Ellie can picture herself with her hands on each side of your waist, pulling you close, saying thank you with her lips brushing against yours before she kisses you. She can see it so clearly that it startles her, changes everything. Her birthday comes with a punch to the gut and a hunger she wants to tell you and only you about.

“You’re not gonna be bored? I really don't mind staying until he gets home.”

Ellie thinks (dramatically, extremely nineteen—) that if she lets you take care of her, she might actually die. It felt like she almost did last time you visited, your face serious with concentration as you pressed the back of your hand against her forehead. ‘You're warm’, you said, ‘do you feel sweaty?’ Ellie stared up at you, eyes glossy and heavy from sleep. ‘Not really’, her fingers sneaked out from under the blanket to wrap themselves around your forearm, a moment of bravery or delusion, ‘your hand feels nice’. You chuckled, ‘okay, keep it’.

She’s less feverish today, but not yet recovered from the greedy voice in her head that begs her to keep you close. If you don't go to the party now, she thinks (knows) that she’ll let herself casually talk you into staying the rest of the night. “Nah, don't miss your party,” she says. “I’ll be okay, Joel’s gonna teach me how to play that old card game.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you're gonna argue all night.”

“No— what?” Ellie scoffs. “It’ll be good, I learn fast.”

“Yeah, because you make up your own rules.”

“I have questions about the rules, that's not the same thing.”

“It is if you cheat—”

“I’m not a cheater!”

You hum, a curious tilt of your head, and Ellie rolls her eyes before the words are even out of your mouth. “No, I guess you’d have to have a girlfriend for that.”

You watch her run her tongue over her teeth, her shoulder against the door frame. “You know I could say the same to you, right?”

“Too bad I said it first,” you shrug, pretty smile stretching your lips. “I guess I'll go, then. I’ll come over when it's done so you don't miss me too much.”

Ellie tries to maintain her composure. You know, she thinks, do you know? You must know. You can't know— “Right. Also so you can steal my food and crash in my bed, I’m guessing.”

“When you’re all vulnerable and weak? What do you think of me, Ellie?” you frown sadly, a hand over your heart.

“I think I know you,” she says, the corner of her lips lifting just a little, inescapably.

You walk to the gate and turn around as you close the lock, your hands on either side of your mouth as if she’s miles and miles away. “I’ll take the couch!”

“Yeah, sure!” Ellie yells back, her voice pretty even when it's hoarse, knowing she’ll hold on for just about ten minutes before she insists you take the bed instead.

Joel stays awake with her until around 10pm, when his yawns become too many to hide and he’s already let Ellie win three games, his smile genuine and wide while she chuckles and pretends she doesn’t notice. He leaves her with a tupperware of soup for tomorrow’s lunch and a deck of cards. To teach your friends or— I don't know, keep on the coffee table, he’d said, make you look cool. Ellie’s not sure you would find a box of cards ‘cool’, but she’s not above trying.

Ever since she moved out to the garage, she’s discovered a new type of stress at the notion of having you over. At Joel’s house, all she ever did to prepare for guests was pick up the dirty clothes from her bedroom floor and put her books in a (wobbly) single pile. Now things are different. The garage is small, but it's all hers— her floor, her living room, her kitchen. She can't have you thinking that she can't take care of things on her own.

She spends the next hour moving things around until finally, two loud knocks. A second passes; Ellie looks at the cards and considers shoving them inside one of the drawers on her desk. By the time the one quiet knock comes, she shrugs and decides to leave them on the coffee table, lest Joel was right and she misses a chance to have you start thinking she's cool and mysterious. “It's open,” she says from the couch, tiredness soon catching up with her after all that time rearranging things.

The door opens and you come in, quickly closing it behind you, a relieved sigh at the loss of that crisp, cold breeze outside. “Did Joel forget those?” you ask, bent at the waist as you take your shoes off, your chin pointing at the deck, the only thing on the coffee table. Maybe she should've been more subtle with it.

“Uh, no,” Ellie scratches the back of her neck, her legs stretched across the couch. “They’re a gift.”

She's not sure you hear her over the groan you make as you stretch your arms above your head, her legs moved to the side automatically to make space for you to sit. You fall down with a sigh and both forget about the cards— you, distracted by the warm tingly feeling of a couple drinks, and Ellie by the new jacket you’re wearing.

She lets a million different scenarios spin around her head for a couple seconds before she blurts out the question. “Whose is that?”

“What?” you turn your head away from the movie playing on the TV.

“The jacket.”

“Oh,” you look down at yourself as if you’ve just remembered it’s there. “Maya was leaving too, so she walked here with me. It’s hers.”

Ellie hums, her back sliding a little further down the couch, legs spread. “Stinks like it’s hers.”

You chuckle before you can help it, her animosity ridiculous and charming— Ellie’s better with actions than she is with words. “I don't even know what you're talking about,” you shake your head, not quite slurring, but not too far from it either. "She smells like strawberries."

Fuck Maya and her strawberry shampoo. Ellie could get some if she wanted to, maybe if she traded— what the fuck is she thinking about? She rolls her shoulders back and pushes the thoughts away, gluing her eyes to the screen. “Sure,” she says, less because she agrees and more because she doesn't wanna hear what else you like about Maya. “You had fun, then?”

“It was alright. You didn't miss out on too much,” the end of your sentence stretched out by a yawn, you cover your mouth lazily and rest back fully against the couch. “Jesse was drunk. They had to stop him from getting up on a table.”

Ellie chuckles. “I don't know, maybe he had something to say. I think I would’ve let him.”

“That's what I said,” you smile and let your head fall to the side, your cheek against the cushion. She feels you staring, enables it for a while by acting oblivious, falsely over-invested in some movie she can't remember the title of. She hears you move closer before she feels it— the shuffle of your clothes, the stupid jacket rubbing against her couch, so easily forgettable by the time your temple falls on her shoulder.

Ellie's about to fall asleep when she hears the little noise you make, something like a sniffle. For a worrying second she thinks she might’ve given you her cold, but then she feels the tip of your nose brush against her shoulder and she realizes you’re trying to breathe her in. 

“You always smell nice,” you whisper, half asleep.

Ellie swallows and prays to keep her body completely still, scared she’ll make the wrong move and have you pull away, scared you’ll lean closer and be able to hear the fast beating on her chest. She sounds breathy, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Like fresh rain.”

Slow like the roll of credits playing on the TV, Ellie feels how every muscle in her body settles down, relaxed, content— fucking cocky. She wraps her arm around your shoulders and hopes the scent will rub off on the jacket and remind Maya of a cloudy autumn night, rain over her garden.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

THREE!

"Do you think we would've liked each other?" you ask, your legs resting on her lap while she fidgets mindlessly with the ruffled cuff of your socks. Every patrol lately ends the exact same way, a quiet walk home and a joint on Ellie’s couch. "Back when the world was normal?”

Ellie turns to look at you, blinking lazily, a reddish hue over her green. You’re not sure if she's more tired or high, but either way you're not doing much better— everything you’ve said during the past hour is the kind of thought you have when you're alone at night and your brain wanders, moments away from falling asleep. It's a meaningless question, but Ellie lets out a soft hum and thinks about it like it's worth considering. You're not sure if anyone you’ve met in your whole twenty years of life is as willing to indulge you as she is.

"Yeah," she says decidedly, in the same tone with which one would say duh. "We—" a yawn cuts her off, slender hand rubbing one of her eyes. "We would be friends, like, in college."

"I wouldn't be in college.”

Ellie frowns, takes one last inhale and discards the joint to the ashtray on her coffee table. "Why not?"

"'Cause I'm not smart like you," you shrug.

The fold between her eyebrows deepens. "You're smart," she argues, with enough conviction that you almost believe her, insisting, "You are."

"In other ways, sure—” Ellie opens her mouth to interrupt but you get ahead of her, “I’m not trying to talk badly about myself, I just don't think college would be for me.”

You’ve never been the most disciplined. It’s hard to imagine yourself staying up late to study, taking diligent notes in class. It feels ridiculous.

“I’d be working somewhere, I think. Making coffee for people or something.”

Ellie pauses before she nods, adjusting her daydream to what you’re saying, strangely committed. "Then we would meet there,” she makes it sound like the easiest thing in the world, a natural equation. “I'd go get coffee from you."

You chuckle. "You don't even like coffee that much."

Ellie shrugs, soft pink lips curved in a smirk that tells you she's sleepy and serves to warn you of the horror that's about to come out of her mouth.

You groan. “Don't—”

"Maybe I like the pretty girl that's making it."

“Awful,” you push her shoulder away, barely any force behind it, her giggles swimming comfortably around your head. “Never speak again.”

"Not my best work?" she asks, her fingers wrapping lazily around your shin. Too much, her brain warns, but then she remembers the pad of your finger over the back of her hand last night, the cursive lines with no purpose other than to be touching her— and it feels right, or like it's not enough. Too much soon turns to coward.

"Possibly your worst.”

She might be going crazy, but lately Ellie feels like you’re looking at her differently. In your eyes there's something gentle, awaiting, a tracing of your eyes over her face that says please. She chews on her lip, her eagerness painful. “We would like each other,” she doesn't think there's a world where you wouldn't, and if there was… "I'd make you like me."

You raise your eyebrows, teasing, "Oh, so like now?"

Her lips part with genuine surprise, more amused than offended. “...I made you, huh?” 

You regret the joke as soon as it comes out of your mouth, immediately brought back to your fourteen year old self, lonely and admittedly captivated by the auburn haired girl from next door. Flashes of you rushing to catch up with her, untied laces on your too tight sneakers, Ellie, do you wanna be friends? The sound of pages shuffling and her voice reading in whispers in the dead of night because you asked, can you talk to me until I fall asleep? Infatuated from the beginning, obsessed. Even now, on her couch, after spending a whole day together— do you like me? Would you like me, always?

A pillow crashes against the side of her face, her laugh almost louder than the embarrassed pounding of your heart. You pull your legs from her lap and lie back, fold your arms over your face. “You're so annoying.”

A lie so obvious it makes Ellie smile. She shifts to crawl closer, one knee on either side of you. “C’mon, I was joking,” she leans forward and you feel her knuckles tap your arm like she’s knocking on a door. The power to make you shy is still foreign to her, makes her feel drunk, thrilled. She doesn't remember having it before, but of course it was there. In little ways, in daily, simple things. Your eyes always looking for her first in any room, lighting up even after an especially bad pun, tracing her arms when the day becomes too hot to keep her jacket on. You like her, of course. How much time has she been wasting? The breath she lets out feels like it's been waiting to be let go, years spent stuck in her lungs. Ellie wraps her fingers around one of your wrists, her voice sweet, achingly soft. “Want me to tell you why I know I’d like you?”

You lower your arms just slightly, eyes peering up at her.

“Yeah?” she tilts her head.

You nod, arms coming down, unusually quiet.

Ellie grins, victorious. “Okay, but fair warning— it's worse than the coffee thing.”

You chuckle. “Is it?”

“Very.”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think about it, distracted by the vision of her practically sitting on top of you. Freckled face framed by the hair that's escaped her usual bun, softly lit by the warmth of the lamp on her desk. “Alright,” you say finally.

It takes Ellie a second to respond, momentarily dazed by the thought of being pretty enough for you to ogle like this. She clears her throat. “You ready?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and away from her eyes. “Sure.”

Ellie waits for the nerves to come, but even as she parts her lips to speak, they never do. What a kind fate. “I know I’d like you because nothing’s ever made more sense to me— I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. I like you enough for a million lifetimes.”

You look at each other, bask in a moment of understanding. Your eyes on her lips, a hand on her waist that pulls her closer. “That was worse,” you agree.

Ellie moves to rest on her forearms, cages you in, her nose brushing against yours. “I told you.”

She waits, feels herself count once again, a final time, one, two—

A hand against the back of her neck brings her in and the quiet noise of her surprise vibrates against your lips, makes her smile into the kiss for just a second before the hunger takes over. Her hips readjusting over yours, knees pressing against your sides, Ellie kisses like it's a need rather than a whim. She takes and takes and swallows every sigh you make like it's a gift, four, five, six seconds of a messy trail of kisses down your neck to say thank you before she resurfaces again.

“Love you,” she breathes out, because suddenly all that talk about ‘like’ feels stupid— immature, incomparable to what she actually feels for you. “Need you.”

You moan against her lips and it's her favorite sound in the whole world, immediately, as quick as realizing she would fall in love with you the day she met you. “Love you, Ellie.”

A kiss to your clavicle, your hands pulling at her shirt and her thigh between yours. She makes you say it three more times.

[eiightysixbaby]

the lacy black pair with the little bows

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

robin’s thoughts run wild when she catches a glimpse of your panties in class… (1.4k)

cw: 18+ only — SMUT. i guess you could argue that this is perv!robin bc she’s fantasizing about reader???, fingering, v v brief blood mention. lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i hope y’all like this!! i’d really like to do a part 2, let me know your thoughts… 👀

There’s a muddied hum in Robin’s ears; the droning voice of the teacher that has melted into nothing but incomprehensible mush. Focusing on Mrs. Click’s ramblings was a near impossible task even under normal circumstances, and the present circumstances were far from that.

See, Robin’s a good student. Maybe easily distractible at times, but she tries her best to stay focused and take her notes and do well. It’s just that today you’re making it really hard to concentrate.

You sit in front of her, diagonally to the right. And she’s always been respectfully appreciative of having such a beautiful girl in such close proximity to her, if even for a 50 minute class-period.

She knows you, but she doesn’t know know you. She knows she’s seen you roaming the halls with Nancy Wheeler, she’s spotted your name on articles in the Hawkins High school paper, but she hasn’t exchanged a single word with you aside from the time you asked her to borrow a pencil. (She had, in her nervousness, given you her only pencil and was left unable to take notes the entire class.)

It would be a lie for her to claim that she wasn’t crushing on you. I mean, how could she not be? There’s no possible way anyone could expect her not to have a crush on someone like you. It’s been pretty tame, however, just little daydreams here and there.

But today. Dear God, today was testing her limits.

The thing is, Robin didn’t mean to look. She really, really didn’t. But it’s kind of hard not to when you’re in a natural line of sight and she already has a reason to look your direction because even the back of your head is pretty.

Today, you’re showing off a little more skin than usual.

It’s a simple fashion mishap. Your jeans rode down a bit too low once you sat in your seat. It happens to everyone, right? It’s just that you’re wearing these underwear, and they’re peeking out above your pants, and it’s like you’re personally taunting her.

They’re black with lace, and holy shit Robin was a goner the instant she noticed them.

Again, she didn’t mean to look. She’s trying really, really hard not to objectify you. But what the hell.

She might as well be drooling, her head propped up by her right hand, her gaze locked on you and that scandalous little garment. Uninterested in the topic at hand, she easily tunes out the teacher’s monologue. Her mind wanders; as much as she’s trying to be good and polite and respectful, her thoughts are turning out to be anything but.

Because it’s so, so fucking easy to imagine herself unbuttoning your jeans. Tugging down the zipper, hands eager to cop a feel. She can picture the way you’d shiver when her nimble fingers cupped your heat over the fabric of those pretty black panties. She can nearly hear the gasp you’d let out when the pad of her index finger teased your hole. Her mouth nearly tingles with the imaginary softness of your lips against hers, the pretty gloss you wear rubbing off on her own smirk.

She’s in too deep, because she’s imagining hooking her fingers through those panties and slowly working them down your thighs; teasing you. Locking eyes with you as she strips your bottom half bare, letting her fingers caress you carefully. The image is so clear in her brain; sliding a digit through your folds, already soaking wet for her. Your eyes flutter closed and your head tips back, exposing the column of your neck to her teeth and tongue. She can feel the warmth of your skin on her tongue as she sucks on a section of it, only pulling away when you’re mewling in a satisfied sort of pain.

You’d make the cutest sounds, there’s no doubt about it, your high-pitched little moans ringing in her ears as she imagines pushing one finger fully inside of you. She’s testing the waters, slowly pumping her index finger in and out, feeling the warmth of your inner walls engulfing it.

And when you start to buck your hips, because you just can’t take it and you need more, she’ll throw her middle finger into the mix, too. Two fingers fucking you, slowly at first then gradually picking up speed and intensity. You let her name fall from your lips, and it makes goosebumps erupt on her skin with how pretty she guesses it sounds in your mouth.

She thinks it would be fun to taunt you a little bit, get you even more riled up.

“What, pretty girl?” she can hear herself asking you after the second moan of her name.

“Feel so good,” is your reply, your voice taking on a breathy quality.

Your body is pliant under her control, arching into her touch and encouraging her actions. She knows she wouldn’t be able to take it, letting her composure slip a little as she fucks you harder with her fingers. Your cunt makes the filthiest sounds, your wetness sloshing and squelching with each pump of her palm against your sex. It only eggs her on; if she had a tail, it would surely be wagging.

She’d start kissing your neck as she fingers you, dipping down to the junction where it meets your shoulder. Maybe she’d bite down, see how you react to it. Maybe she’d let her teeth draw blood, only to lap it up with her tongue.

In real time, you shift in your seat at your desk, and it makes Robin’s whole body feel warm. A tiny bit more of your panties poke out, your ass just centimeters out of view.

In her head, her free hand grabs your ass, squeezing the doughy flesh until you mewl into her mouth.

“Don’t stop, Robin,” you’d cry, muffled by her sloppy kisses to your mouth. Her fingers curl mercilessly inside you, and if your words are anything to go by, you’re getting close to release.

She’d keep up her pace, listening to you moan and whine with each press of her fingers to that sweet spot inside of you. She can feel the ghostly press of your fingertips to her shoulder, nails digging in to brace yourself.

“Are you gonna cum for me, gorgeous girl?” is what she would ask, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Mhm,” your whimpered response reverberates inside her brain, your bottom lip sucked beneath your teeth in concentration.

She knows it would be earth-shattering, watching you cum. She knows it would be even better feeling it happen, around her fingers.

Her fantasy reaches the perfect peak, your body trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls squeeze her fingers, clenching in an erratic pattern. Your head is tipped toward the ceiling, her name slipping past your lips.

“Robin,” you nearly scream.

It’s the prettiest sound she’s ever heard.

“Robin.”

It’s a plea, a chant, a prayer all in one.

“Robin!” her name comes for the third time, but this time the voice doesn’t sound so much like yours. It sounds like—

“Ms. Buckley, are you paying attention?”

Robin’s head snaps up, her posture straightening, suddenly alert. The fantasy slips out of her brain, the images going cloudy as the classroom comes back into focus.

Mrs. Click stares disapprovingly from the front of the room, tapping a pen against her palm in waiting.

Her face goes crimson, embarrassment flooding her body. She’d been completely laser-focused on you, and she finds herself suddenly taking up faith and praying to every god that no one realized she was staring so hard. Staring so hard at your ass, to be specific.

“Y-yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am,” Robin replies, voice hoarse. Of course she hadn’t been paying attention. She doesn’t have the slightest clue what’s going on.

“As I was saying,” the teacher huffs. “You’ll be partnered with Y/N for the project.”

Robin feels herself nod, even give a weak smile, but she suddenly feels like there’s cotton in her ears. The last thing she thinks she needs right now is to have to work in close proximity to you, on a project she knows nothing about because she was too busy fantasizing about finger-fucking you.

She chances a glance at you, only to be met by your gaze staring right back, over your shoulder. You give her a sweet little smile, fingers waggling in a subtle wave, oblivious to the things you’re doing to her.

She waves back, swallowing hard.

The universe might just have it out for her.

[randombush3]

busco lo de antes

alexia putellas x reader

prologue, que te quiero

summary: you wake up but you're not sure where

words: 5200

content warnings: brief mention of alcoholism

notes: i realised halfway through this that everyone's name (bar eli) begins with an 'a'. bit stupid of me tbh

The day you leave the hospital begins with the man in the bed beside you dying. Bodies surround him, first to save his life, then to remove him from the ward, and, after that, you are no longer dreading the thought of returning home. 

Home. That might not be the word for it. 

Alexia picks you up, all tentative questions and awkward smiles, and walks you to a shining Cupra that looks just as futuristic as the iPhone she takes out to show the nurses something or other. You want to ask about it but figure it’ll make her turn that pale shade she goes whenever she remembers you’re not quite you. 

“Where’s Amaia?” you ask to distract yourself from the ache of your ribs where the cracks haven’t healed. The seatbelt of the car presses against the bruises on your chest, a stark reminder of what happened the last time you sat in a vehicle like this, but you can’t recall any of it and therefore it is almost like it never happened. 

“School,” Alexia replies quietly, as though she is afraid to speak louder and scare you away. You feel a bit like an idiot at her response, because of course she is. It’s a weekday and that’s what children do. “I thought it best that she stayed somewhere else tonight, so you’ll see her tomorrow. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” 

A sense of protection befalls you. Even if you don’t remember her, she is your daughter. Yours. “Where is she staying?”

Alexia focuses on the road for a moment. Whether she is being cautious because of the accident or because she needs to stare broodily at something to fight off her tears, you’re not sure. She is turning into somewhere quiet: tree-lined streets and quiet curiosity. “Amaia,” Alexia takes a deep breath, “is staying with my mother, Eli. She used to look after her when you first moved to Barcelona.” 

“Five years ago,” you tell her, hating how hopeful she looks at the tidbit of information. It has been learnt along with other important things, such as Amaia’s birthday and the details of your job. They provide brilliant health insurance, it turns out. “From… London?” 

She nods. “Yeah. You told me once that you missed the sunshine of Spain as though you were from the south.” You can’t help the build up of guilt in your stomach as she smiles at the memory, choosing to watch as she parks the car in an underground garage. “Your firm has an office here.” 

You unbuckle the seatbelt slowly, the strap peeling away from your bruised chest like a second skin. The pressure of it lingers, a phantom ache that settles alongside the sharpness in your ribs that make you crave the satisfaction of painkillers. Alexia is already outside the car, standing by the open door on your side, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. Her eyes flicker over you, the way they always do; cautious, worried, and like she’s afraid you might fall to pieces if she makes one wrong move. 

Having stiffened over the course of the drive, you clamber rather elegantly out of the car. She doesn’t offer to help – doesn’t say a word – but her presence hums with restraint. The lift is an even quieter affair, save for the faint whir of machinery and the tap of Alexia’s thumb against her phone screen. There is a pause as she twists a key in the lock of the lift’s control panel, but then she goes back to her text messages. Without looking, she presses the button for the top floor, and up you go. 

“It’s a penthouse,” she explains when the doors slide open into a spacious hallway. Her hesitation causes her to hang back, so you boldly take the first step towards a place you cannot recall. It smells faintly of lavender and freshly polished wood, and, despite not knowing much about Alexia, you fail to be surprised by the immaculacy of the place. The scent, however, stirs nothing in you. 

It’s warm, bathed in late afternoon sunlight that spills through large windows. You take another step, pushing yourself to move further inside, but a rack of shoes – sizes varying – catches your attention and you slip your own off. There is a gap between two pairs of Nike trainers, but you elect to place them to the side, just in case that’s not where they go. 

There are photos lining the walls, and the occasional piece of art (either child-drawn or watercolour paintings of various destinations you don’t remember visiting). And it’s nice. The kind of space you can tell someone loves because of the small things; plants thriving in mismatched pots, books stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, pens scattered on the floor in front of the TV. 

It feels like someone else’s life. That same imposterous sense you get when you walk through a showroom, wondering about the imaginary people who could live there. 

Alexia locks something behind you (you’re not entirely sure of the security system of this place) and seems to hover until you turn around to face her. “We bought it together,” she says, her tone careful and deliberate, like she’s meticulously placing each word into existence. “A little over a year ago.” 

Your stomach knots. “Together?” 

Her nod does not hide how her smile falters. “Yes, we–” She swallows. “I was pretty much staying over at yours every night, but you said you wanted something that was ours. We spent months searching for somewhere and this felt… perfect. Amaia was sold the moment the agent mentioned the pool. She spent most of the summer out there.” 

You pretend not to notice the cracks in her voice. You’re not sure for whose sake. 

“Do you… do you remember it?” she asks, and her voice is so small, so terrified, that you feel like a monster when you shake your head.

Alexia’s smile doesn’t fall all at once. It wobbles, withering in stages; a dam straining under its weight before it gives way. She nods too quickly, eyes too wide, face frozen in painfully forced understanding. “That’s okay,” she says, too brightly, voice contorting, twisting like a knife inside of her. “It’s fine. You’re still healing. That’s what matters.”

It’s brittle and raw, the way her words hang in the air. Her mustered conviction makes it seem like saying them out loud will make them true, and you want to say something, anything, to take the sting away, but the sentences tumble down your throat like loose pebbles on an unclimbable mountain. Your ribs ache as you shift your weight, and the pain feels almost deserved. Alexia clears her throat and gestures vaguely towards the leather three-seater in the middle of the living space. “Sit.” It’s not a question. “I’ll make us some coffee. Or–” She catches herself, her voice weakening. “Do you want a coffee?” 

And you hide your surprise at the question, because if Alexia and you have this life, this home together, she’d know you will always want a coffee. Maybe you are just as much a stranger to her as she is to you. From now on, at least. 

“That was stupid, wasn’t it?” She laughs with a coarse hack, as though her throat is sore. “You will never say no to that. I started switching it out with decaf because you’d be vibrating by lunchtime.” 

You offer her a smile although it feels like a betrayal to accept her kindness when your presence is clearly killing her. 

She disappears into the kitchen and you lower yourself carefully onto the sofa. It’s soft, comfortable, but frustratingly unfamiliar. Your gaze drifts to the photos hanging on the wall. A picture of a smiling child in Alexia’s arms, holding up a World Cup trophy (2010 is more recent in your memory than most people’s). You’re there too, one hand on Alexia’s shoulder, grinning with teary eyes. You exuberate pride, and Alexia does too, beaming at the photographer as she holds on tightly to the little girl. 

Amaia. 

You glance away quickly, clawed by a guilty terror. The books on the coffee table are a haphazard mix: novels, colouring books, one thick volume of the history of Catalunya. A pair of sunglasses rests atop them – chic but not gaudily luxurious. You wonder if they’re yours.

“We loved this place.” You look up as Alexia sets a mug down on the coffee table in front of you, holding another in trembling hands as she perches on the edge of the armchair opposite. “You said it felt like a dream being here. We hadn’t expected to… get on so well.” Her gaze fixes just over your shoulder, eyes just as anguished as the breath she draws in. “And we used to sit here every night, when you could no longer be called by clients and Amaia was asleep. We’d plan. It could be anything, what we were doing that weekend, what we were doing in ten years. But I like planning and you knew that, so we’d talk about everything we wanted to do. You wanted to take Amaia to Bilbao. She hasn’t been there since she was a baby.” 

You don’t know what to say, so you settle for an absent nod that lights a flare of agony. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, setting her mug down. Her voice breaks with the apology. “I didn’t mean to…” She swallows, the sound thick with tears she is trying to hold back. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to look at you and not see the person who–” 

She cuts herself off, pressing a hand over her mouth as her shoulders shake. 

Your heart lurches. “Alexia,” you murmur, her name foreign on your tongue. It’s the only thing you can think to offer, although it is woefully insufficient. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, swiping at her tears. “I told myself I was going to be strong for you, but I don’t know how. I don’t know how to hold everything together when I feel like I’ve already lost you.” Her voice cracks and her hands clench into fists on her lap. “You’re here, but you’re not here. Do you know how–” She chokes on the words, her head dropping forwards. “Do you know how much that hurts?” 

“Everyone I thought I loved is gone.” It’s the first time you have said it aloud. “Everything I knew is no longer true, or it is outdated with painful hilarity. And I have a daughter whose name I couldn’t even remember.” 

“She’s named after your–” 

“My mother.” Alexia looks at you, curiosity dulling the strength of her sobs. “They told me.” You pause. “I tried to call my father the second day I was awake.” She winces at the incoming story, aware of it because of the doctors and unsuspecting that you would mention it. “No one had thought to let me know that he died.” 

“He–” 

“He was an alcoholic, I found out.” 

Palms rub her cheeks to clear the tears, and she sits up straighter. “You weren’t in contact by the time we met. You didn’t even go to his funeral.” 

“And yet my fiancée neglected to bring it up.” Standing, you ignore the ache of a battered body. “If you don’t mind, I need to rest.” You hesitate, the sight of her tear-glossed eyes rooting you to the spot for one agonising moment. You force yourself to snap out of it. “I’m sure I’ll find the bedroom.”

…

Amaia prides herself on being deemed a ‘clever girl’. The teachers at school search for her hand in the air when no one else can find the answer, and all the grown-ups in her life include her in places most girls wouldn’t belong. Like the changing room at the Joan Gamper, where people say words she is not allowed to repeat (where Alexia sometimes joins in, and asks that she be a superspy and not let it slip to you that she has engaged in such incivility). 

After training, when the mood is lighter and the air is heavy with laughter, the girls will ask why she hasn’t got her boots on, or chastise her for slacking on training when everyone else is muddy and tired. She always giggles at that, because it is a ridiculous notion that she’d be out there with them! But Amaia understands, even at her age, that this is special – sacred, even. She knows to be patient and wait for Alexia to finish leading, to switch back into Mamá Alexia, and to get on with her homework until she is given a reason to be distracted. 

The last time she was there, Mapi had joked about teaching her to take long, bendy freekicks. Amaia had scrunched her nose and declared, self-assured and stubborn, that she will continue to prefer goalkeeping. Alexia always needs someone to practise against, and she is determined to prove herself a worthy opponent. 

Alexia had laughed at that, a laugh so pure and proud that Amaia felt like the funniest girl in the world.

But tonight, Amaia isn’t at the training ground. She’s perched at the dining table in Yaya Eli's kitchen, her knees tucked under her chin, staring at a photograph stuck onto the fridge: herself, Alexia, and you. The picture is sunny and bright, taken on the beach last summer, but now, as she looks at her family, her stomach hurts. 

“Are you going to eat that, petita?” Eli’s voice breaks her train of thought. The older woman gestures at the plate of tortilla and salad in front of Amaia, her face tired but kind. 

She shakes her head. “Not hungry.” 

Eli hums softly, wiping her hands on a tea towel as she walks over. A chair scrapes on the tiled floor as she makes room for herself to sit down, and then she is resting her hands gently on Amaia’s knees, a silent request for her to sit properly. “You’ve hardly eaten all day, Maieta. Què passa en aquest cervellet teu?” 

Frowning, Amaia replies, “Do you think Alexia is sad?” 

A beat passes, Eli caught between the truth and the comfort a white lie could bring. “I think,” she begins carefully, “that Alexia is feeling a lot of things right now. Just as I know you are.” She brushes a hand down Amaia’s back, willing the solemn tension in her spine to dissipate.

Amaia stares at the photo on the fridge. “Ama is so different.” Your smile is familiar. Yours. And she can’t remember the last time she saw it. “It’s like she’s not even there.” 

The words hang heavy in the air, and two hearts ache because of just how much Amaia understands. 

Quietly, Amaia asks her second question. “Does she still love me?” 

Eli swallows her in a hug and cannot bring herself to ever let go.

…

A fortnight passes.

You sleep in your bedroom, Alexia in the spare. Amaia seems busy but, with no calendar on the fridge to tell you when things are, you have little idea as to what she is doing. You try to ask her about her day, making an effort to get to know her, but the conversation always turns stale, buckling under the weight of your guilt for its need and her discomfort at talking to someone so familiar like they are a stranger. 

With no work and strict instructions to rest, there is not much to do between the declining doctor’s appointments and episodes of wallowing. 

The penthouse is large and luxurious, but the walls soon grow tiresome. 

Alexia bought you a new phone when you had been cleared to look at screens again. She had come back with something else in the bag too, something lost in the accident, but held off on gifting it. It sits in the corner of the room, its presence almost accusatory. You’re not an idiot, you know what it is. You suppose Alexia wants to choose when to open Pandora’s box. You allow her that control, that comfort. The phone, at least, has proven to be a necessary tether, though you’ve hesitated to use it for much more than practicalities (like looking up who the current Prime Minister is, embarrassingly). Today, though, alone and finished with the idea of sitting in a silent home like a guest overstaying their welcome, you muster the nerve to call one of the few numbers you’d bothered to save. 

It takes three attempts to connect. The first time, you freeze when you hear the ring. The second, your trembling thumb threatens to cancel the call just as it begins. But on the third, a gruff voice answers. 

“Kaixo?” 

He sounds the same, you think, if not a bit older. He’s your brother and he is familiar, which is refreshing. 

You clear your throat. “It’s me.” 

A pause stretches, heavy and uncertain. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, disbelief blended with relief. “Is it really you? They said you– I mean, we weren’t sure…” His voice breaks off. 

“It’s me,” you repeat, softer now, guilt pulling at each syllable. “How are you, Asi?” 

The laugh you get is mean, because it does not hide the ridiculousness of the question. Asier is the eldest and he is the wisest, too, although you’d be loath to admit it. Beneath him are two other brothers, Ander and Adrian. The latter was who you last remember speaking to: a shouting match in your father’s house, both sides hysterical. You had walked out, then. 

“The last thing you should remember about me is how I asked you to get an abortion.” His voice is distant, emotions running through it no longer raw and real. For him, that was a decade ago. “You could’ve called sooner,” he then says. 

“I didn’t know what to say,” you admit. Anger bubbles inside at the thought of the three of them in Bilbao, residue from how things were left. Asier isn’t wrong about what he asked you to do. Even now, he refuses to lie. 

“Say you’re okay.” 

A lump forms in your throat. You almost choke on it trying to get the words out. “Ez, ez nago ondo.” 

“How can I fix this?” he asks, but for a while, the only thing you can hear in his voice is fear. 

He speaks for what feels like hours, attempting to cover everything that happened between then and now. He’s married. His twins turned six last month. They visited you and Amaia in Barcelona a year ago, and he gave Alexia enough shovel talk for her to become positively terrified of him. He skirts around the death of your father, a mystery he clearly doesn’t want to help you solve, and he similarly avoids the argument you had. “We’re… on good terms. All of us,” is the most you get. 

Finally, he exhales sharply, like he’s trying to let go of something heavy. “I don’t know how to help you forgive us again. It was hard enough the first time. But I do know one thing: you are not going through this alone. You’re never alone, not anymore.”

You haven’t heard him be so gentle, so caring for a long time. The Asier you remember was strict, stubborn, and destined to be just as great a man as your father. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, your fingers tightening around the phone, a desperate yearning rising in you. Something needs to change. You need it to. 

The air feels thick – too thick – and Barcelona is suddenly too far away. 

“I– Asier, I…” The words almost refuse to come out. Something rustles on the other end, his clothes maybe, and it’s like he has leant forwards. You clear your throat, steadying yourself. “Can I… can I visit you? Can I come home?” 

There’s a pause, and you regret asking. It makes no sense. Your home is here, according to the doctors and Alexia and the roots you have dug into the ground. But then Asier speaks again, his voice quiet but not unkind. 

“Are you sure?” His tone isn’t harsh but there is an air of caution in the way he proceeds. 

“I’m not really sure of anything.” And it is set. You know what you are going to do. This is the family you remember. 

That evening, you wait patiently for Alexia to have enough of talking at you about her day and her life and how ‘the girls’ – whose names you can’t seem to grasp – were wondering if you’d like to watch their next home match. (She detaches herself from the request. You’ve noticed that she’s stopped trying to ask things of you, focusing mainly on educating you about Amaia. Her selflessness is impressive.) When she leaves you with a wish for you to sleep well and an awkward space of time that you assume would once have been filled with a kiss, you open your phone onto Google and purchase a ticket for the first flight to Bilbao. Living in Sarrià and sending Amaia to an international school are clear signs that the ticket will make no dent in your bank account, and Alexia has already set up your cards for you on your phone, so all you have to do is double click and stare at the camera that can apparently recognise your face. 

It’s raining in Bilbao when your flight touches down. Alexia had left twenty minutes before your taxi to the airport arrived. It was a relatively seamless journey. 

Asier is grinning in the arrivals section of the airport. “Do you have a coat?” is his greeting. You match his expression, holding up one you’d bought en route. “The boys have taken the day off. We’re going for drinks.” You’re about to decline the alcoholic implication, but he beats you to it. “You can have lemonade.” 

He drives a nice car and his hair is clipped in a way that reminds you of your father. Military men. 

“You’re not in uniform,” you state as he reverses the car out of its spot, staring straight ahead in order to shake the feel of his eyes flickering over to you every now and then. 

“I’m on leave.” 

“Because of me?” 

He sucks in a breath. “My commanding officer wouldn’t let me argue with him. I’ll go back tomorrow. I’ve been posted here permanently.” 

“Like Aita,” you say proudly, because look at the man he has become. He was always on this path, but it is nice to see his hard work come to fruition. 

Asier’s nose, however, scrunches at the comparison. “That is something we need to talk about, actually. But I thought it was best to do it with the two nutters present. And alcohol.” He quickly adds, “For us.” 

After that, he doesn’t speak much. He’s still the same, quiet, authoritative figure you used to lean on, except now there’s a softness to him, an almost apologetic quality when he catches your eye. You try not to prickle every time you remember the last thing he had said to you, because it’s not a true telling of the past. It’s an uneasy feeling, not being able to trust yourself. 

His intrinsic wariness continues to exist; the same kind he bore a decade ago, only heavier, more experience. You don’t know why, and you’re not sure you care to. You’re still angry at them, at the way everything was left, and it begins to build the closer you get to the house you grew up in. 

The streets of Bilbao are slick, puddles splashing at curbs, the air growing fresher as you move through neighbourhoods you recognise for once. The city here has a pulse that Barcelona’s neat. Sunny streets can never match, and that pulse settles something in you, even as you silently brace for what’s to come. 

Asier pulls into your road. The houses are still large, still intimidating and orderly, with gates that hint at important secrets being kept within the walls. He must have inherited your childhood home, but only the colour of the brick echoes what it once was. There’s a swing on the front lawn, tall enough for the top bar to be seen above the wrought iron gates, and when the gates open, you can tell a happy family lives here. You get the sense that your mother’s absence was more obvious than it felt.

The gravel crunches under the tires of his car as he parks. “We moved in three years ago, had the whole place redone. We tried to rip out that sense of regime and… severity.” He hesitates. “And the stench of alcohol.” Your interest is piqued by that, taking the bait like a stupid fish. He’s amused by it. “Come on.” And he gets out. 

You smile faintly and follow him onto the porch, stepping over the deflated basketball discarded on the tiled stairs. 

The inside has colour now, no longer so uniform and stark. As much as you love – loved – your father, the man struggled to design a home. It’s nice. Really, you like what he’s done with the place. 

Asier gestures for you to follow him into the living room, electric blue and full of pictures. Your two other brothers, Ander and Adrian, are seated on the sofas, both sprawled out and lazily watching a recap of the football as though this were a normal visit. Hesitantly, you make your presence known. 

Adrian is the first to notice, his face lighting up at the sight of you. You don’t know what you expected to see, but this isn’t it. His expression softens immediately, and for a split second, you see a glimpse of the little boy he once was, sheepish and guilty of crimes he hasn’t yet committed. 

“You’re not too banged up,” he says after a beat, his voice gentle and impressed. The rest of the room goes quiet and you can feel the tension rise, but it’s not as sharp as you thought it would be. Maybe it’s because time has passed for them. You can’t say the same. 

Then Ander leans forwards, far less subtle. “You forgave me. So before you shout at me again, make sure you keep that in mind.” He doesn’t seem irritated or put off, just a bit inconvenienced and… bored. It takes you by surprise and kills the fight in your throat momentarily. He pounces on your silence: “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.” 

You shake your head, both to disagree and snap yourself out of the blip of absolution because that is something you don’t remember yet. You don’t feel soft. Not at all. You feel sharp, like the ache in your chest won’t ever leave, like you’ve been carrying something for a long time and it needs to be addressed. You look away. 

“I kept the baby.” It’s an obvious statement. Asier already said he’s visited you and Amaia. “I moved away and I had a child, and what did you three do?” 

“You told us you were leaving. You asked us not to follow, not to reach out.” Adrian is referencing something you can’t recall. “And you nearly didn’t keep her. Asi was coming from a place of reason.” 

“It doesn’t need justification,” Asier says calmly. You’re not sure whose side he’s on. “Adrian is right. You asked us not to interfere. It’s not that we didn’t care, but you made it clear you didn’t want us to. We respected that.” 

The room feels colder with the weight of his words, but there’s no bite to them, no condemnation. It’s just the truth. And the truth stings more than you anticipated. “I was a child.” 

“You insisted you weren’t. That was your main point, actually,” says Ander. 

Adrian fidgets in his seat, his gaze darting between you and Asier. “We were stupid and we regretted it. Dad regretted it too, though he never admitted that.” The boys grow more pained at the mention of him. “I don’t know how we could’ve helped, even if we’d tried. None of us were ready to hear that our baby sister was… not a baby anymore.” 

It doesn’t reach you in the way they should. Your mind spins, but it’s not in anger anymore. It’s a sort of blankness, a weariness that comes from unnecessary strife and grief and rupture of a network so strong. “I never asked you to leave me alone,” you say quietly, and the boys hear your voice from six years ago layered on top of it, a mirror of the past. This took place over the phone, then, stemming from an argument about your absence from a funeral. “I asked you not to judge me for my choices, but that was never the same thing. And yet, all of you let me go without a word.” 

Asier shifts uncomfortably, the glug of a bottle breaking the silence that follows you statement. He hands you a glass. “Lemonade,” he says. 

“I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t know how else to say it,” blurts Adrian, who has always been impatient and far too close to you to drag these things out. 

Your legs tremble but Asier is there to steady you. “Sit down, txurru. Let’s talk.” 

Over drinks, they recount it all. Fight by fight, death by death. No one cries as Asier carefully details your father’s descent into alcoholism; how he lost his footing, how he left his life’s work with no apparent reason, killing himself slowly until one day, there was nothing he could do but actually die. Unflinching, they tell you about the late-night arguments, the doors slamming, the silence that followed. Your father’s temper had fractured the family over the years, though you’d been too blind to see until the day you left, and it did not subside in the years you spent estranged. 

They talk about how much they missed you, how they’d send texts to a number you no longer used, or tried to find you on social media. Pride fills the room when Ander talks about finding you on your firm’s website. 

For the first time since the accident, you feel tethered to something, something that feels like it could belong to you. These boys – men, really – share your face and they share your past, and, as the lump in your throat falls away, you realise that this is what home feels like. 

But that tether is violently yanked away when your phone buzzes. 

“Where the fuck are you?!” Alexia’s voice is sharp, teetering on the edge of fury and desperation. 

You squint, confused at why she is so upset, then remembering that Alexia isn’t some random woman who reminds you to take your pain medication and drives you to your appointments. 

“Bilbao.” 

The seconds tick on before Alexia musters the restraint to reply without blowing up your ears from six hundred kilometres away. “You should’ve told me.” 

“Sorry.” 

“You don’t sound it,” she replies bitterly. For a moment, Alexia seems like she hates your guts. And then she takes a deep breath, leaving the silence to fill the gap between you.

[sweatyracoon]

Perv! Skz! Headcannons

Warnings: Perv behavior, obsessed Skz!, smut, unsuspecting reader, actions of weirdos

A/n: MDNI, just my thoughts on how they would behave were they perverts <3

Perv! Chan- 2/10

Conflicted eternally once he starts having these thoughts about you. He wouldn't act on them because he respects boundaries and cares for your comfort.

Didn't see you that way until you started wearing more revealing clothes. A short white tee during one if your walks. Low and behold, it rained.

Your pink lace bra/bare chest appeared through the wet material, making the poor boy flush.

He didn't have an umbrella, so he used his large frame to cover you until you could find shelter. He wouldn't even look at you, unable to breathe when he does so.

He always saw you as a kind friend up until that moment. He always knew you were beautiful, but when he caught glimpse of your torso, glimmering with the combination of rain water and dim lighting, he thought you a god(dess) in disguise.

Since then, he would gift you clothes that were either a little too small, or crop tops. You never realized it was more for him than you, seeing as that was your style anyway.

He loves being able to dress you the way he wants, and relishes in the way you thank him, hugging him tightly so he can feel all of your curves underneath the thin cotton.

He also loves the way you smell. Your shampoo and perfume make a perfect seductive concoction, making him dizzy and unable to concentrate.

When he hugs you from behind, he would quietly inhale, eyes rolling back, a small smile on his face.

He likes holding your hand in his, seeing the size difference. It's not necessarily a size kink, he just likes knowing that he can mold his into yours in different ways.

Perv! Lee Know- 9/10

Not afraid to be excessive.

He would grab at your ass, but you thought nothing of it because he does it to literally everyone.

His hands would longer a bit longer, though .

Sometimes he would come to stand behind you without you noticing, and when you move to step back, you hit his hard chest, turning to look at his stoic face.

He likes being in close proximity of you, feeling calmer knowing you were there.

He would wrap his arms around your waist to bring you down on his lap, cuddling you tightly as you both sat.

He would massage your thighs, sometimes going a bit too high, brushing against the inner lining that reaches your jean zipper.

He would often flirt with you verbally, and also use a lot of praise when it comes to talking about you.

He likes brushing his hands against your cheeks at random, making your breath hitch, waiting for what he does next.

That damn bastard drops them with a smirk, walking away.

He would sing about you to you, making you blush.

He would randomly kiss your hand, sometimes kissing further up your arm until he reaches his neck.

One time he decided to nip at it, making you gasp. He laughed.

He would eventually make his way to your lips.

"Finally!"

Perv! Changbin- 4/10

Total gentleman.

He had known you for a while, so it was natural to form feelings, right?

Chan told him it was okay, but his thoughts made him think otherwise.

Why is he looking at your ass when you walk away?

Why is he looking at your semi-exposed chest when you lean over?

Why is he noticing how plump and kissable your lips are?

He takes care of himself at night when the thoughts become too much, but he wakes up feeling guilty.

You were his best friend. The one that has gotten him through so much. You would probably think him disgusting if you knew.

He would hold your hand when he's stressed, and as if it were muscle memory, you would in turn wrap your entire torso around his arm, hoping to calm him down.

When he eats, you eat right with him, if not more. It becomes fun and sweet. A memorable moment for him.

When he's hyper and joking, your there to laugh with him, even if no one else does.

He loves you.

He would think that you love him too, but he then realizes all of the thoughts he had the night before.

When you saw him sitting in the studio lost in thought, you asked him what's wrong.

"Y/n?! What are you doing here?"

He jumped on the small loveseat, snatching the pillow at his side and covered his center with it.

You looked at it, getting an idea of what was wrong.

"Need some help?"

Perv! Hyunjin - 6/10

Total lover.

He follows you like a lost puppy waiting for directions.

His eyes are always glossy when looking at you, a small smile plastered onto his face when he's near you.

He loves wrapping his long ass fingers around your thin forearm, grinning at how his hand could probably wrap around twice.

Definitely has a size kink.

Wraps his legs with yours if your lying together on the floor.

Blows at your ear to get your attention

Begs to let him draw you naked, meaning he needs you to undress in front of him for hours.

Of course you said no.

For now.

He would whine at your answer, saying he needed to see you.

Very forward about his needs with you, and how he needs you to be the one to help him.

But he does it in a way to not make you feel uncomfortable.

He came too close one day and ended up kissing the shell of your ear, making you both freeze.

Hyunjin knew he needed to do that again, but he didn't want to push too far.

He waited for you to say something.

"Do that again...just wanna see how it feels,"

Perv! Han- 7/10

Definitely a panty sniffer.

Never been caught.

He loves when you hug him from behind, or just in general really.

Loves being close to you so he can smell you. Whether it's sweat or perfume, he could sit next to you all day. Bask in your scent.

He steals your hoodies and wears them often, hoping it will run off onto him.

He also steals a few pair of undies, sniffing them late at night as he touches himself.

His eyes glazed over when you take your own sweatshirt off, your inner shirt raising, showing your tummy.

He sees the soft flesh, and wants to shove his face into your pillow like skin. He wants to knead his first fingers into your stomach.

He bites your shoulder lightly when hes feeling particularly needy, because he can't tell you otherwise.

You think he's just being playful.

He melts when you kiss his cheek.

Lingers too long when he hugs from behind, pressing his clothed dick too close to your ass.

Perv! Felix- 2/10

Gentleman number two.

Cares about your comfort more than anything, so tries keeping how he feels to himself.

Takes care of himself before bed or in the shower, of course, imaging you and your body.

When he's with you, he is just his normal self with slightly more blushing.

And smiling.

He would give you massages and tell you jokes as well as praise you.

He would call you beautiful at least forty times a day.

Loves hugging you from the side, just to feel you pet his head.

Also likes messing with your fingers, noticing they are slightly larger than his.

Loves when you tickle under his chin. He likes being seen as a small kitty when it comes to you.

Rests his head on your lap to hopefully feel the heat from your clothed center.

Also tries to smell between your legs when he's there.

Tries to memorize the scent.

Tries to feed you to see your tongue poke out as you take a bite.

Perv! Seungmin - 8/10

Crazy lad this boy is.

He's significantly taller than you, so he loves standing behind you just to see his shadow against your small frame.

Likes when you look up at him with sparkling eyes.

Boops your nose, watching as you scrunch your face in response.

He likes annoying you to see your mouth open wide as you complain about his actions.

He fights the urge to shove two of his fingers down your throat to shut you up.

He really wants to see you gag on them, tears trailing down your face as you take them.

He breathes heavy when he sees you wearing his sweater, hoping you would keep it on forever.

He grabs at your knees when you sit across from each other, knowing that your ticklish there.

When you get tickled, you let out breathy moans rather than giggles. Not on purpose. It was just your thing.

And he loved it.

At least twice a day he tickles you.

Gets hard at the sounds you make, leaving you suddenly afterwards.

Licks your neck randomly just to hear you call him puppy.

He would kill to be your puppy.

He loves it when you wrap your hands around his neck in a silent threat.

He melts when he hears you say his name.

One time you spit out your gum since it lost it's flavor.

Seungmin grabbed it and popped it into his mouth, loving the taste of you.

Perv! Jeongin - 10/10

Innocent baby that doesn't know how to deal with these feelings.

Tries to explain it but all that comes out are 'uhm' and 'uhh'.

You pet his head in comfort and he whines.

He humps your pillow in your guest room at his apartment.

You question the stains when you visit, making him blush.

Always red around you.

Can't help but brush his skin against you.

Hands everywhere.

Hates hugs unless they are from you.

Tries to grind into your side when you both cuddle. He loves feeling your soft exposed skin when your in your pajamas, making him hard immediately.

Kisses your shoulders randomly.

Drinks after you thinking it's an indirect kiss.

Uses your lip balm for the same reason.

Groans when he sees you in your bathing suit for the first time, hiding under the water in hopes his boner will go away with the cold water.

Dry fucks the stuffy you won him from a claw machine.

He never let you see it again after he stained it with his cum repeatedly.

Barely washes it since it smells like you and cum.

Thinks about wrapping his hand around your throat all day.

[eddiesxangel]

Redemption| Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: after committing a petty crime, Eddie is forced to work community at a retirement home; what he didn’t expect was the pretty girl at the front desk, you. This is so self-indulgent don't come for me

Word count: 3.8k

Cw: mutual pining, male masturbation, Perv!Eddie, Dom!Eddie/ Sub!reader, unprotected sex, corruption kink? breeding kink, sex at work. (Briefly proofread)

An: after 85 years I finally got around to finishing this! It’s not where I thought it would go originally bc it was just suppose to be a fluff piece but the horny gremlin took over

Boredom wasn't even a way to describe how you were feeling. The phones were dead, the day had been dragging on, and it was not even 12:00pm. The residents of the home were also not doing you any favours. Having to repeat yourself about six times in a row at the top of your lungs was starting to get old; your day had just not been going the way you wanted. Any other day, you'd be happy to help, happy to repeat yourself, but today was not one of those days. You were irritated and annoyed; your work bestie was off today, so you couldn't even complain to her about your shit day.

 A sigh of relief fills you when the phone rings, a rare occasion, but today has been so slow you were begging for something to do.

 "Sunny Acres Retirement Home! How may I help you?"  your customer service voice was overly sweet, too sweet. However you can't seem to turn it off, being the people pleaser that you are. 

"Jesus Christ'' You hear mumbled from the other end of the line. 

"Hello? How can I help you?" you roll your eyes, having to repeat yourself, but keep up the chipper act.

 "Yeah, listen, I was assigned to do community hours at this place, and I need to talk to a manager." Damn, this guy had an attitude. 

"Yeah! Sure thing. Can I get your name, please?"

 "Seriously?" 

What the fuck crawled up this guy's ass?

"It's company policy, Sir." You rolled your eyes again, not wanting to deal with more bullshit.

"Eddie"  

"One moment, Eddie, I'll transfer your call." You put him on hold and transferred him to the manager with a good luck warning. 

The next day, you were in much better spirits; your work bestie was with you, it was casual Friday, and you were allowed to wear jeans instead of business casual attire.

It was around 1:00pm when you saw Chief Hopper walk in accompanied by someone you had not recognized. 

"Hey Hopps," you greet him with a smile.

"Hey, you." He said with a smile.

You and Chief Hopper had a friendly relationship because you're close friends with his girlfriend's oldest, Jonathan.  

"To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Brought in another delinquent for you to roughhouse into shape" he steps out of the way.

Your giggle dies as you lock eyes with the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 

"This is Edward; he is here to complete two hundred hours of community service, and he will be starting today."

"It's Eddie," you hear him mumble under his breath. 

Oh so this is the jackass you spoke to on the phone yesterday... a really cute jackass.

He looked to be around your age, but you didn't recognize him. You'd only been in town since the second half of senior year, hating your parents for making your move to a new school so close to graduating. You have been in Hawkins  six years now you're here working 9-5 as a receptionist at Sunny Acres Retirement Home.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie." You introduce yourself and proceed to call the manager to let her know he is here. Once Hopper leaves and your manager shows him around, you immediately call your best friend, Robin's, extension.

"Get over here now! We have a code, hottie," you whisper into the phone. Whenever you see a cute person enter the building, whether it be adult grandchildren, paramedics, or firefighters, you always let one another know when there is one on the premises. No less than two minutes later, she approaches your desk.

"Where are they?"

" There," you point to the dining room directly across from your desk as he is being given a tour of the building.

"Eddie Munson?!" she half yells before covering her mouth. 

"You know him?" you ask excitedly.

"Know him? He's the town freak," she scoffs.

"I'm sure he is a freak, alright?" You wiggle your brows at her." 

"I'm serious! He's bad news." 

"Clearly, he is doing community service hours." 

"Seriously? That is what you're into?" she giggles.

"I don't know? There is something about him?" You bite your lip as you check him out from afar. He turns back to walk towards you, and you quickly look away, not wanting to be caught.

You've always been into bad boys, but your golden retriever, good girl image, always scared them away.

Eddie notices you staring at him because you're not very subtle.  He isn't mad that he caught you staring because he felt that you were checking him out rather than judging him. Unlike your co-worker standing beside you...

Just his luck, he recognized Robin from high school. She was always neutral towards him and didn't say much, but he knew how the people in this town operated. She would turn you against him in no time.

"Buckley." He nodded.

"Munson," she mimicked back.

You watched the scene play out, hoping she would introduce you. Wrong. She goes straight in for the kill.

"My friend thinks you're cute." She points her thumb at you, and you immediately slap her shoulder as a gut reaction.

"Robin?!" you scold her. Mortified about what she admitted to him just to break an awkward silence, you feel like you want the ground to swallow you whole. 

Eddie gives you a cocky smirk before the manager comes back to continue with the tour. 

"Why do you hate me? Did I do something?  Are you punishing me?" you whine. 

"You know I just blurt out things when I get uncomfortable!" 

All you can do is roll your eyes, you loved the girl, but she could be really dense. 

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about your brief interaction all night. Was Robin telling the truth? Did you really think he was cute? Or was she teasing? He hoped that she had grown up since high school and was telling the truth because he also thought you were cute, like really, really cute. He hadn't seen you before, and Hawkins was a small town; he must have known you from somewhere? He wraps his brain around any memories of your face, but he comes up empty. He had to find out more about you. He needed to know you. Something about you infatuated him so much. He thought about how your body looked in the adorable outfit you had on. He thought about what was under the outfit to... Maybe being forced to volunteer his time at Sunny Acres wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to him after all...

The next day, you were assigned to show Eddie some of the duties he was to do for the residents. Talk to them, run bingo, help them with their phone if the line was giving them any trouble, or their TV if they put in the wrong input, serve them beverages, and get to know them and keep them company. A lot of them don't have families or anyone to come visit them. The staff are their family. That was the main reason you stayed at this job for so long. 

Eddie was quiet the whole orientation. The tension from yesterday was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Small talk was not your strong suit; you dreaded it, but you also really wanted to talk with Eddie, so you went for it.

"So what did they book you for? Steal candy from a kid on the playground?" trying to make light of the situation. 

"Murder," he deadpans to you.

"Ha ha. Nice try. They don't give community hours to murderers." you couldn't keep your eyes on the task in front of you.

He was dead silent, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.

"Okay, don't tell me; I'll just keep guessing until you do." you gave a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood. 

Another eye roll was shot your way, but you swore you saw a glint of something behind those eyes. 

"So what was it? Trespassing? Vandalism? shoplifting? Public intoxication? Speeding?" you raise a brow at him.

 Eddie just smirked and shook his head as you interrogated him. Your bubbly personality was nothing compared to his. He noticed how you would light up the room when you walked in. The residents of the home adored you, and he could see why. You were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen; your eyes sparkled, and he loved how you styled yourself. He wasn't used to being so infatuated by someone so cutesy. He noticed you wore a lot of pink and has yet to see you in anything black. He thought of what you would look like with black underwear... then he snapped back out of his thoughts. He tried to think of something less sexy, but as he was trying to do so, your top slipped down when you went to reach for the deck of cards across from you. He caught a glimpse of the frilly light yellow bra you had on under your top.

Eddie noticed the room was getting hotter, or was that just him? You made him nervous; he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you more than he already has. He felt shame that we had to be waltzed in here by the chief of police, never mind what offence he committed. So he stayed quiet, not wanting the next thing to come out of his mouth to be offensive or crass. So he kept quiet, not saying anything or indulging in the conversation more than he had to.

Another week went by, and you still hardly spoke to Eddie. Work was unbelievably slow yet again. you thought that would give you a chance to speak with Eddie, but you hardly had time to see him because the residents kept hogging him. That was until your manager asked for you to help with the Bingo because everyone decided to show up today. Eddie was in charge of rolling and placing, and you were in charge of announcing and checking.

This was it, this was your chance to speak to him...

"How do you like it here so far?"

"It's fine I guess." He mumbled. 

"Everyone really loves you." You smiled.  

Eddie gave you a look that said what the fuck?

“No really! … Do you not like it here?” What you were really asking was do you not like being around me?

"Don't you get it? How can I serve these snotty rich people when all they do is look down on someone like me?"

"Eddie, are you blind? The residents love you." 

Eddie scoffs at your confession. "I'm serious! When you are gone, Pat always asks where you are! And Linda always refers to you as her boyfriend, and I overheard Martha and June arguing over who got to braid your hair next. You're a real ladies' man around here," You giggle. 

"A ladies man you say?" his mood slowly changes as he smirks at you. That made you blush, the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away bashfully. He was just so pretty… and the way he looked at you like how he is now is making you so shy.

"Yeah, I'm kinda jealous of Linda, if I'm honest." You flirt. You feel like your stomach was in your ass by the time you finished the sentence.

-

"What's the next number! come on!" Bob yelled from the table. You had completely forgotten about the game.

Small glances were stolen throughout the following weeks.  You would feel the heat rise to your cheeks every time he caught you, and you couldn't tell if he found it endearing or annoying. You never got a response out of Eddie after your admission to being jealous over an eighty-three-year-old.

Eddie definitely thought it was endearing and he can't seem to get you out of his head. He would think about you when he was alone in his room at night. He would think about how you always smelled like marshmallows, how your hair looked so cute with the little bow you put in it occasionally, or how you tease him by wearing those short skirts with stockings underneath. He knew you were teasing him. Everyone else bought the Goodie Two Shoes act, but not Eddie. He saw right through it, and he was fed up. He felt like if he didn't have you, he would actually explode.

Eddie had been watching you from afar this whole time. He would sneak around your desk, finding things he could take home with him as a keepsake. Like little doodles you would leave out, or the pen you were using, or your lip balm. The best was when you left your purse out, and he got a chance to take the travel-size perfume that was lying there on top of everything. There was a reason he got booked for defacing public property and not theft. Theft he was good at.

Eddie sprayed his pillow with your perfume and then used your lip balm that smelled and tasted like strawberries, fuck, everything about you was so sweet: your personality, looks and smell, even your fucking lip balm. He thought about how his lips were touching the thing that touched yours as he applied it to his own, and his dick got hard. Then he thought about how your strawberry lips would look around his hard cock.

You were taking over Eddie's senses as he began to tug at his cock. He thought about how he would love to flip up your skirt and fucking you in one of the empty rooms. His imagination ran wild. He thought about your voice, how your tits would look bouncing in that frilly yellow bra he got a peek at. He wanted you in every position, especially under him. He knew you would be the perfect little sub for him. He needed you to be; he was so close to cumming. He thought about you crying from how much you needed his cock to fill you. He thought about how good you would look and feel swallowing his cock. He needed to take what he thought, no needed to believe, was your virgin pussy.

Eddie came so hard that night, the first night he indulged in his fantasies of you with your smell lingering in the air of his room. The mix of your sent with his was too much. He needed you, and he would do anything to try and get you.

"Ok, I can't take this anymore, you need to talk to him." Robin shook her head. 

"And say what?" 

"Yo Munson, come here!" 

"Robin!" You scolded.  

As Eddie approached, you felt your heart rate go up; you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What on earth was she going to say now? 

"Okay, I can't take watching you two dance around one another any longer." "She thinks you're cute. Okay..." Robin gestured to you. "Do you think she is cute?"

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just slowly nodded his head.

The tension broke when the shrill of phone ring broke you out of your trance and shook you a little. You just stared at the phone and Robin butted in.

“I’ll take it, you take your lunch” she gave you a wink and you looked to Eddie.

“I could eat.” and he wasn't talking about the chicken they were serving for lunch.

You felt your stomach do a flip-flip; you heard the insinuation in his tone.

"Um, uh- yeah. Okay." You cleared your throat and went to find an empty room for some privacy.

You guided Eddie up to the eighth floor. There were a lot of vacant rooms up there, and hardly anyone went in the west wing since no one was living there yet. The elevator ride up was silent; you felt an awkwardness, like Eddie was looking into your soul even though he wasn't even looking at you... The elevator dinged, and Eddie let you step out first, guiding him to the privacy he yearned for.

809 Eddie read on the door as you fumbled with the lock and key. Finally, you opened the lock and guided him inside. The room was completely empty; it echoed a little as your footsteps filled it.

"So..." You started but Eddie had no time for talking. He wanted you and he wanted you now.

Eddie surprised you by cupping your face and kissing you passionately. No one had ever kissed you like this before; it was strong and hard but also careful.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." He spoke into your mouth. The kissing got more and more sensual. You ran your hands up his middle before you knew what was happening he quickly turned you around and pressed you up against the wall.

"You think it's cute? Teasing me for weeks with your sweet little outfits?" Eddie's hand was wrapped around your mouth to keep you quiet as his fingers explored you meat of your ass.

"Mmmmmph" You were so scared someone would find you in the empty suite, but it also turned you on more than expected.

"What was that sweetheart? I didn't quite catch that?" His fingers found the waistband of your stockings and pulled them and your panties down with one swift motion. His hand loosened its grip on your jaw so you could speak.

"N-no," You whimpered. This was turning you on way more than it should. You thought you would come up here to talk; maybe he would ask you out on a date. You never thought you would be fucking!

"I don't believe you."

You felt your skirt flipped up and a cool breeze on your wet pussy.

"Tell me, sweetheart, has anyone ever filled this pussy?" Eddie asked as he ran a single finger through your wet folds.

"Yes," You admit shakily. You gripped Eddie's wrist of the hand that was clamped around your throat.

Eddie can't say he was surprised that you’ve had men before him. You were beautiful, smart, funny, adorable. It's too bad you had to be with them before he got a taste.

"What a shame you've had to suffer through that before meeting me, babydoll."

"Why is that?" you ask bravely.

Eddie chuckled darkly... "Because baby, I'm about to ruin you for all men."

That made you gulp. You can't believe you were about to fuck your crush in the middle of the work day. You didn't do stuff like this! you were a good girl, a rule follower.

Before you could think anymore about the consequences, Eddie, he slipped his throbbing cock into your needy pussy.

"Holy fuck!" You screamed, and Eddie's hand clamped back down over your mouth to keep you quiet.

Just when Eddie didn't think you could get any hotter, the curse word you let slip from your mouth made his cock twitch inside of you.

"Fuck me, you stretch me out so good," You whine, and Eddie thinks he will bust a nut right then and there. His perfect little angel had the mouth of a whore.

"Yes, you like that, don't you, you dirty little slut." Eddie jerked his hips up into you. It was sharp and hard and hit that delicious spot inside you each time. “You wanna be my good girl? Or my bad girl?”

“Good- oh fuck- good girl. I want to be your good girl!”

“That shut the fuck up and take it like I know you can”

"oh my god, you're so big." Your eyes rolled back into your head as he became more controlled with his rhythm. His hands gripped your hip, and he wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back like he was riding you.

The view Eddie had was your ass bounced off his cock was making his head spin. He knew you would hand a perfect pussy. It was his now and only his.

"This pussy is mine now, understand? Im going to fill this pussy so good you won't know what to do for days. The only thing you're going to be thinking of is me and my fat cock."

All you could do was moan in response. "Yea you like that you dirty little whore. You like that I own this pussy now…” Eddie slowed down, he rolled his hips slowly into your pussy and he swore he saw the light “You have everyone convinced you're a goodgirl but all you are is a cumslut. Tell me how much you want my cum coating your walls"

"I want it so bad!" you cried.

You've never had a dick like this before. Eddie was right, he's ruined you for all men and he hadn't even made you cum... yet. You had full faith that he was able to do so because you could feel it. The warm fuzzy feeling was bubbling up in your core. Eddie had picked up the pace at your omission, and fuck if he wasn’t hitting your g spot with each delicious stroke of his cock hitting your walls.

"Fuck I'm going to cum!" You scream, all caution thrown to the wind, you'd forgotten where you were. The only thing you could think of was Eddie and his delicious cock.

"Fuck yes, babydoll. Come on this cock." Eddie's hand let go of your hair and wrapped it around your throat, pulling you flush to his body.

"More" You whisper.

"Greedy greedy girl."

"Please" You begged. You needed him to touch you.

"There is my good girl." His hand that had gripped your hip slid down and started playing with your swollen clit and your legs almost gave out.

"Next time, I'm keeping my word, and I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy." Eddie growled.

That did it for you; your inner walls squeezed, and you felt your orgasm rush through you. Eddie trusted in you as your body convulsed around him.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight," Eddie grits through his teeth, and he fights off his impending orgasm. He doesn't want this moment to end, he wants it to last forever. What if this is the last chance he has to feel your pussy wrapped around him?

"Please, Eddie, I want your cum! I want your cum so fucking bad, my pussy needs it."

That did it for Eddie, he let go and his hot seed was being shot into you with a roar.

After minutes of silence and heavy breathing, Eddie bent down and pulled up your panties and stockings for you, trapping his cum with it. You turn slowly, afraid to look him in the eyes, but Eddie doesn't allow it. He brings your cin up, guiding your eyes to look into his.

"Don't shy away from me now, babydoll. You're going to go back down to the lobby and finish the rest of your work day knowing my cum is going to be seeping through your pretty little panties, ok?" He ordered, and you dumbly nodded your head, still fucked out by the amazing dick you just received.

"Good girl" Eddie patted your ass, and you walked to the elevator with wobbly legs. Eddie laughed and held you stand straight before letting go before you reached the first floor.

You returned from your break fifteen minutes later than allotted, but Robin covered for you. You couldn't even look her in the eyes, and she knew you got freaky with the freak of Hawkins.

[dreamsteddie]

Steve H.

Part Two, Part One

Okay, I started the last post with a "Haha wouldn't it be funny" which turned into a long, not-so-funny rant. So! Here is the funny part!

Steve is Dustin's brother and Claudia's son in all but law. He lives with them, calls Claudia mom and refers to Dustin as his brother, takes them to all his school events until he graduates and helps pay the bills after high school. Claudia never pressures him to apply to colleges he doesn't even want to get into or makes him feel like he has to move out any time soon when he turns 18, so he stays and gets a part-time job at Scoops where he bonds with Robin for life.

At the same time, drop out Eddie and his uncle Wayne move to town when the power company transfers him to the plant in Hawkins. It serves them well since Eddie needs a fresh start after getting tossed out of school without a degree for unjust reasons. He needs some place where he can make friends and get a job without his reputation hanging over his head, and Wayne would never abandon his nephew.

So they land in Hawkins and Eddie finds his feet by visiting the library and happening upon a gaggle of kids commandeering one of the reservable conference rooms for DnD. They're are a few older kids closer to his age there too, but the curly-haired one is definitely running the show.

Meanwhile, Wayne has failed to mention to his nephew that the main reason he agreed to the transfer uncontested was because he hit it off with one Claudia Henderson at a diner after a fishing trip and has been dating her without Eddie's knowledge for 8 months. He breaks the news to his Nephew when he starts making plans to propose and wants to introduce Eddie to Claudia and her sons before he does. Wayne loves Claudia but Eddie comes first and he wants to make sure they'll all make a good family.

So they go over to the Henderson household for dinner one night, Wayne having wrangled Eddie into a black button-down and jeans without holes so Claudia doesn't think he raised a ruffian.

Dustin answers the door and immediately freaks out because he's so excited. He's met Wayne before and so has Steve so he knows things are serious and there's a good chance Eddie becomes family down the line.

Yelling in excitement the whole way Dustin drags both men into the kitchen where the root of all Eddie's troubles can be found.

Steve.

He immediately starts bitching at Dustin about acceptable volumes, towel over his shoulder and hands on hips and Eddie is Gone. Sent. In the stratosphere and immediately smitten. He's lost in the clouds planning their own wedding until reality crashes back down on his head as Steve extends his hand and introduces himself as Dustin's brother.

Eddie, of course, does not know that Steve is not actually related to anyone in this family legally or otherwise and no one thinks to clue him in since they're all so accustomed to the family dynamic.

If Google had been around in the 80s Eddie's search history would be full of "Is it illegal to date my uncle's step-son? NOT RELATED BY BLOOD" "how many degrees of separation in the family tree is acceptable?"

Que Eddie desperately trying to suppress his crush and not ruin his uncle's happiness by wooing his almost step-cousin ew like he really wants to.

But it's so hard! Steve is so beautiful and kind and dorky and a little weird and basically everything Eddie could possibly want in a boyfriend! Eddie wants to bite his freckles and hold his hand so badly but he won't ruin Wayne's future marriage because he kissed his future stepson like they're characters in those soap operas Claudia likes. He won't!

And then to make matters worse Steve seems like he really wants to bond with Eddie. He's always asking him to hang out wether that's going to the mall to hang out with his best friend Robin or swapping tapes at Claudia's house or showing Eddie all his favorite spots in Hawkins. (Steve is very much dropping hints that he wants to date Eddie who he's 96% sure is into him but Eddie is too caught up to notice)

It comes to a head on the day of the engagement. Wayne enlisted all three of "his boys" to help set up a nice dinner party with their closest friends, something Claudia has always mentioned wanting to host, while Joyce invites her out for some shopping and girl time. Steve and Wayne do most of the cooking while Eddie and Dustin are on set up picking up the flowers and pulling the nice table setting down from the attic before separating to get dressed in their nice outfits.

It's like a moment from a fairytale when Steve walks down the stairs and smiles at him. He's so fucking handsome it makes Eddie's heart ache with the cold realization that he's fallen completely in love with a man he can't have. Eddie can feel a prickling behind his eyes but he brutally shoves the sensation down. Today isn't about him.

Eddie puts on a happy face. It's not hard, he is truly happy for Wayne. His uncle deserves the world and both him and Claudia looked so in love when she said yes. He just wishes it didn't have to mean never having the man of his dreams. Eddie sticks the party out and he thinks he did a pretty good job hiding his mood right up until Dustin barges into the basement where the hideaway bed lives. The plan was always for the whole new family unit to stay the night so Eddie heads down as soon as it is acceptable to fall face-first into the pillows and trash around a little bit. Maybe even scream. Sue him, he's heartbroken.

That's how Dustin finds him and he immediately starts crowing that he knew something was up with Eddie. He starts pestering in true Dustin fashion until Eddie inelegently blurts out "I'M IN LOVE WITH MY FUTURE COUSIN IN LAW!"

Dustin blinks at him for a few minutes while Eddie freaks out because he's been so good only for Dustin to bully a confession out of him the day his uncle got engaged like a jerk!

But then Dustin is literally rolling around on the floor howling with laughter and Eddie has never wanted to strangle someone and disappear at the same time in his whole life. He's about to start asking Dustin what the fuck is up when the younger boy sits up and says "He's not my real brother!" at which point it's Eddie's turn to blink at Dustin in silence.

Dustin explains that while Steve is definitely his brother in all the ways that matter he's not actually related to Dustin or Claudia, nor was he ever legally adopted.

Eddie hardly lets Dustin finish his story before he's booking it up the stairs to Steve's room with a truly unprecedented display of athleticism on his part. He franticly taps on the door, aware enough to avoid banding on it like he would like to lest he disturb the newly engaged couple down the hall.

Steve opens the door, eyes wide and slightly frantic. As soon as his eyes meet Eddie's they disappear from his eyeline because Eddie has dropped to his knees, hands clasped together, and begs "Mary me!"

Of course, they don't get engaged that night. Eddie kind of just panicked and said the first thing that came to his head, but they kissed and began to date with the full blessing of their weird little family.

[babysukiii]

regina’s puppy (2)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: mean!regina (not to reader), slightly jealous!regina, oblivious!reader, mutual pining, annoying boys, regina being soft for reader, talks of sexuality

(this is part 2 to the series, read part 1 here)

when you walked into the cafeteria the next day, you were already fed up with the way people were acting today. ever since you got to school this morning, you were receiving various stares and hushed whispers. it caused an ugly feeling of insecurity to follow you around all morning until lunch. your eyes scan the cafeteria for the blonde, and you see her standing in line. your eyes brighten at the sight of her, and you begin to make your way to her.

“hey gina.” you greet her happily. as soon as she hears your eager voice, her eyes tear away from the person she was talking to, just to look at you. you’re wearing a baby pink long sleeved fitted top, and a pair of dark denim high waisted bellbottoms that regina exclusively picked out for you. her eyes trail up and down your body, before her lips tug into a smirk. you look so different than your usual shy, covered up self. regina’s always thought you were pretty. it was adorable how you could wear baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, along with worn out shoes, and you’d still look cute. but right now, regina thought you were—

“you look so hot.” she blurts out, and one of the jocks that’s standing nearby chimes in.

“hey, y/n, did you do something different with your hair?” he asks from a few feet away, and regina refrains from telling the blockhead to go fuck himself, but she’s curious to see how you’re going to react to the newly found attention. “yeah, i tried a new serum called, “fuck off”.” you snap, frustrated with the unwanted attention you’ve been receiving today. regina’s lips twitch and she can’t hold back the maniacal grin plastering itself onto her face. your eyes widen in regret/horror before you clasp a hand over your mouth. you get this adorably sheepish expression on your face that you flash regina; “i’m sorry, that was so mean. but you’d think i’d have a sign on my head that said “bother me” with how much people have been talking to me today.” you retort, sounding agitated.

“get used to it, y/n. they didn’t realize underneath all those hoodies, there was a girl.” she states, as she takes a tray of food, and waits for you to get yours. you snort at her comment, “that’s exactly why i wore them. they’re like an invisibility cloak.” your statement makes her genuinely laugh, and the sound never ceases to make your stomach flip. you don’t even mind the way people are whispering as they glance in your direction.

you sit right beside regina; trying to ignore the nerves bubbling in your belly. when gretchen and karen approach the table, the brunette eyes you uncertainly. “um… why are you here?” gretchen asks, and you open your mouth to respond, but regina is speaking for you. “y/n is sitting with us from now on.” regina says curtly, her tone stringent and up for no debates. “what!? but she— she didn’t take any of the tests! she doesn’t know any of the rules!! she barely has a social status!” gretchen nearly squeals, while karen offers you a smile. “i really like your top! i saw that at hollister! can i borrow it some time?” the raven haired girl asks, ignoring her best friends freak out.

regina glowers at gretchen, “you were barely anything before me, so you have no say in anything that goes on at this table.” she hisses, causing gretchen to snap her mouth shut. regina’s mood switches quickly, a content smile etching onto her face, “now that that’s settled, karen, why don’t you fill y/n in on our rules.” the blonde requests, and karen nods obediently. “rules?” you inquire carefully, and karen nods again. “yup! we have rules we have to follow in order to sit here. rule number one, don’t wear tank tops two days in a row...” she starts, and you nod as you begin to listen to the strange yet, iconic rules.

you nod along, mentally taking down each one. once karen is finished, your gaze flickers towards regina. “so for the tank top rule, do i have to wear a tank top at least once a week, or is that optional?” you ask, genuinely curious. regina lets out this uncontainable giggle that gretchen and karen had never heard from the blonde. “you don’t have to wear a tank top at all silly, but if you do, don’t wear one two days in a row.” she informs you, and you nod. “what are the tests i have to take to sit here?” you question, remembering what gretchen said earlier. regina shakes her head, “those won’t be necessary. you’ve proven your worth to me already.” she says simply, as she takes a sip of her energy drink.

gretchen gawks at the blonde; her mouth agape. she couldn’t figure out for the life of her, why regina was letting you of all people get away with this. “try this, it’s peach.” the queen bee waves her drink at you, and you take it, sipping a bit. your nose scrunches up in disgust, “ew.” you murmur, and she flashes you a pointed look before snatching the drink back. “what is that?” you question, and she flashes the can at you. “peach-nectarine redbull.” she responds, and you make a face of dissatisfaction.

“what? they’re good! aren’t they, karen?” regina asks, gesturing to the blueberry redbull beside karen’s tray of food. karen nods in agreement, “yup, regina’s fridge is full of them.” the raven haired girl chimes in, and you offer the blonde a look of dismay, “those things are heart attacks in a can, gina.” you scold her. “you shouldn’t drink them so much.” you add, and regina rolls her eyes dismissively, but her heart leaps due to your obvious concern for her wellbeing. “i don’t think i’m gonna have to worry about a heart attack till i’m like forty, y/n, relax. i need these to get through the day.” she says, and you frown.

when the bell rings, you and regina leave the cafeteria together. before you can walk away towards your next class, regina wraps a firm hand around your wrist. “did stacy agree to let you be part of the team?” she asks, and you nod. “yeah, she talked to me this morning. but i don’t think i wanna be a part of her club anymore.” you admit, and regina glowers, “why not? i swear to god if she said something else—“ regina nearly growls, but you cut her off before she can threaten stacy’s life again. “no! don’t worry, gina she didn’t say anything bad.” you promise her, causing her to search your face for any signs of dishonesty.

you don’t tell regina the only reason you no longer have an interest in debate club, is because you’d rather hang out with her after school instead. she shoots you that infamous grin that causes the butterflies in your stomach to repopulate rapidly. “well, i guess that means you can hang out with us after school now. we’re going to karen’s house today, so meet me at my locker after your last class.” regina’s request is more like a command, but you aren’t complaining.

you nod dumbly, as she walks away from you, and your eyes are glued on her the entire time. regina looks over her shoulder, catching your entranced gaze on her. it causes a fire to ignite in the pit of her stomach. she turns away, turning down the hallway and disappearing. your cheeks feel as though they’re burning, and the bell rings, indicating that you’re late for class. you shake your head, trying to push away your regina-induced thoughts before you rush to class.

throughout the rest of the school day, more boys try to talk to you. you’ve never really came out or thought twice about your sexuality; you’ve always known you were into girls. you thought it was pretty obvious, but now you were wondering if it wasn’t. “hey y/n!” micheal, one of the boys in your last period catches up to you as you walk towards the exit of the school. your step falters slightly, as he approaches you, holding the exit doors open for you.

“i was just wondering if you had any plans right now?” he asks you, flashing you a shy smile. you stop walking, feeling a bit bad as you get ready to reject him, but he continues rambling. “cause there’s this cool burger place that—” he gets cut off by that familiar voice that causes a wave of heat to surge through you. “come on y/n!” regina causes you to turn your head, there’s aways that stupid little flutter in her stomach whenever she see you. though it turns into boiling hot rage when she sees the way that boy is eyeing you shamelessly. you flash her a smile before turning back to micheal, “sorry, micheal, i have plans with regina today.” you tell him, and his face falls. he looks visibly disappointed. “oh, for sure! have fun! maybe we can hang out tomorrow?” he sounds hopeful, and you open your mouth to reject his offer again, but this time regina is intervening.

“she’s not going to be available tomorrow because she’ll be hanging out with me. again. and same answer for the day after tomorrow.” regina’s voice is harsh, and enough to make a grown man cower away. micheal looks ostensibly upset, but everyone knows better than to talk back to regina george. “come on, regina, i was just trying to ask her out—” he tries, but she cuts him off. “well don’t.” she hisses, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “look at her, and look at you. you’re like an off brand tony hawk. y/n wouldn’t go for you even if you were the last person on earth.” she cruelly says with a sneer.

“now, come on, y/n. karen’s mom always makes the best lemon squares. you’re gonna love them.” she places her hands on your upper arms; fingernails digging into the fabric of your shirt. her grip is firm but not enough to hurt. she leads you away from micheal, and you feel a surge of guilt, but also an unknown heat pooling at the bottom of your abdomen from how upset regina was about micheal. her grip on you tightens, “ugh, he seriously thought he had a chance with you. you can do better than some lame guy on the soccer team.” she rants, as she leads you towards her jeep where karen and gretchen are waiting.

“he’s in my english class. he’s always sat next to me.” you confess, and regina stops in her tracks, taking her hands off you, causing you to stop as well. you look at regina, who has her arms crossed, “well, starting tomorrow you aren’t sitting by him anymore.” she states, her tone signifying that she’s up for no disagreements. “unless you like him.” she adds, sounding borderline unrecognizable. you scoff, “you think i’d like him? i’m actually kind of insulted you think he’s my type.” you respond, and regina feels a strange sensation of relief. she doesn’t understand why the thought of you dating some sleazy guy around here made her blood boil.

regina offers you a satisfied smile, as if she wasn’t just upset a second ago. her shift in emotions is a bit concerning, but you think it’s adorable how bratty she can be, and then content not even a moment later. but maybe you were biased when it comes to regina george, because you thought everything about her was absolutely adorable. “good. then it’s settled, you’re not sitting next to him, or talking to him anymore.” she declares, and you nod obediently. “okay, gina.” your voice is so innocent and light; you don’t sound the slightest bit upset or reluctant to do as she says. she revels in it.

“good girl. come on, lets go. the girls are waiting for us.” her pleased tone sends this thrill of excitement to course throughout you. those words; “good girl”, they caused your tummy to flutter so much it felt as though it was going to burst. you were a blushing mess as regina pulls you to her car. she notices how flushed your cheeks are, and she smirks. “y/n gets shotgun.” regina says bluntly, and gretchen’s eyes widen in bewilderment. “why does she get shotgun!?” she shrieks, and regina scowls, “because it’s my car, and i said so.” the blonde snaps in response, causing gretchen to pout.

you all get into the car, and just like yesterday, regina hands you her phone. “pick a song.” she orders, and you immediately oblige. gretchen’s jaw drops in offense, “you’re letting her aux!? you never let any of us aux!” she points out, as the queen bee pulls out of the parking lot. “y/n’s taste in music is better than yours.” regina deadpans, as you put on a faye webster song. “i love this song.” karen chimes in, and gretchen huffs. “everyone loves faye webster, karen!” the brunette snaps.

karen’s house isn’t as big as regina’s house, but that isn’t shocking. you think regina might have the biggest house in town, and you aren’t even sure what her father does for work. regina was right about karen’s mother making the best lemon squares though. you shamelessly eat three, and regina is enamored as you make endless conversation with karen’s mom. the older woman finds you just as charming as most of the teachers at school do. regina wonders if they notice how sweet your smile is, or how bright your eyes shine when you talk about something you enjoy.

regina notices everything about you. the way the blood rises to your cheeks whenever she compliments you, or remembers a small detail about you. whenever your hair falls below your shoulders in thoughtless curls; she finds herself thinking about how long it takes you to curl your hair in the mornings. sometimes it’s in a ponytail, or carelessly undone. regina often wonders how someone can look so effortlessly good all the time.

she drops gretchen off at home first in order to spend some time alone with you; she tries not to dwell on why. as soon as the brunette is out of the car, regina’s tough facade is crumbling away. “did you see karen’s dads hair? it’s a toupee.” she reveals, causing your eyes to widen as you burst into a fit of giggles. regina swears her heart nearly stops beating at the marvelous sound. “seriously!?” you ask, clearly shocked, she nods, letting out a few stray laughs. “yeah, one time karen dropped it in the toilet. he grounded her for like two weeks.” she tells you, eliciting even more giggles from you. “poor mr. shetty. he seems so nice. it’s not his fault he’s bald.” you comment earnestly.

regina’s heart swells at how adorable you are, and how you look sitting in the passenger side of her car. she gets so lost in her thoughts about you, that she doesn’t even realize the lights turned green. a loud car horn pulls her out of her ongoing thoughts, causing her to scowl and beep back. “fuck you, bitch, just go around!” regina yells, as she rolls down her window to flip off the old man behind her. you gasp, but can’t seem to contain your uncontrollable laughter.

“you’re so funny, gina.” you breathe out, looking over at her with this expression of adoration, thankfully her eyes are on the road. “i’m so glad that my anger issues amuse you.” she murmurs sardonically, and you release a little chortle. “it’s not my fault you look so cute when you’re angry.” you blurt out, and your entire face changes into a shocked expression as you realize what you just said. regina glances at you, noticing your sheepish expression. she smirks mischievously, “you think i’m cute?” she asks, feigning obliviousness.

you look over at her with a face that says “are you serious?”, and you snort. “you know you’re cute! i mean, you’re regina george. you’re everything.” you say this so easily, it causes her whole world to stop spinning for a while as her inside turn to mush. you don’t even realize the words you say have such an impact on her. the blood rushes to her cheeks, and your eyes nearly widen as regina blushes because of you. “i’ve been called a lot of things before but never “everything”.” she tries to sound nonchalant, and taunting like she always does, but her voice comes out abnormally soft. she doesn’t even recognize herself.

when she turns to get a quick look at you, she sees you’re already staring at her. your eyes hold such a look of admiration as you gaze at her. “i’m just being honest.” you respond, looking away shyly. regina’s heart is in her throat, as if it’s trying crawl its way out of her and into your lap. she tries to focus on driving, but she can’t stop stealing glances at you.

“earlier when you said micheal wasn’t your type, were you just saying that, or were you being honest?” she asks randomly, breaking the short silence. you furrow your brows, “why would i lie about something dumb like that?” you ask in response, and regina shrugs. “so i would shut up about it.” she suggests, and you frown. “i never want you to shut up though. i like hearing you, even when you’re mad.” you reveal truthfully, making her heartbeat stutter. “but i was being serious about micheal not being my type. no guy really is…” you trail off sheepishly.

there’s a sense of satisfaction that comes with knowing regina’s suspicions were correct. you’re into girls, and regina knows you’re into her. she can feel it, and your behavior proves it. “good.” the blonde says, sounding more than pleased as she turns into your neighborhood. regina was right about you; she was definitely going to be able to have as much fun with you as she thought.

a/n: @kate03-27 hope you enjoy!

also, comment if you wanna be tagged in the next part :) thanks for reading <3

[bunnys-kisses]

Can I get a sausage roll and crostata, with coffee, a vodka shot and a vitamin water with Max Verstappen! (I already submitted but forgot to hit anonymous pls use this one lol)

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu, there's tons of things to choose from! i hope you find something you like, orders can be big or small, it's up to you! as for this lovely anon, i briefly saw both your messages and i was like "wow two people want the exact same thing at the same time", but don't worry! your off-anon message has been deleted! but thank you!!

sausage roll ("i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt.") + crostata (“stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”) + vodka shot (rough sex) + vitamin water (dom/sub dynamic) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, rough sex, dom/sub dynamic, semi-public sex, parking garage sex, mild choking, panty gag, car hood sex, quiet sex, clothed sex

you once joked with max that the best necklace you could ever own was his hand around your throat. that line buried its way into max's mind and never let go.

the sight of you, under total ownership of him. you were a bratty sub, you liked to kick your legs like a horse so to speak. you ran your mouth like a motor and got your sick kicks out of standing toe to toe with him. even though he was the dom in this little game, it didn't mean you were going to take it lying down.

to those in the restaurant, you two looked like the perfect couple. the champion of f1 and the woman he held so dear. the front of your shoe rubbed up against the side of his ankle.

"behave." he warned.

he tried to order your usually and you simply said, "i don't want that." then ordered yourself. then you refused to drink the expensive wine he had ordered for your table. once again, bucking against him. why it was a little amusing at first, the act grew tired quite quickly.

and after dinner, in the quiet parking garage. max kept his grip on you, he said in your ear as you entered the garage, "you think this is a joke, don't you? forget all the rules i've given you."

you giggled, "well yeah, if i followed them all the time. then you'd get bored."

he took you by the back of the next and looked at you. even in the low lighting of the garage you could see the intensity in his gaze. he replied, "no, i'll have peace of mind."

you stuck your tongue out cheekily, "simp." then tried to scamper off towards the car, but max's grip on your neck was a little tighter. he held you still against him, you could feel his erection in his jeans. you swallowed, this meant trouble.

“stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.” he said, "gluttony isn't a good look on your, my treasure... or i guess you're my slut. stupid little thing." then gave your throat a squeeze before he practically dragged you to the car and got you up against the side of the hood.

you collided with the metal of the body and whimpered, that was going to leave a bruise on your elbows come more. thankfully the garage was near dead quiet and the dim lighting left you hidden.

he pushed up the skirt of your dress and took your panties off. you always forgot how strong max was, years of training and driving have left him enough strength to rip those panties off of you.

you heard the ripped of fabric and you were about to make a comment before the fabric was stuffed in your mouth and max held your jaw close around it.

"you keep these safe, alright?"

you tried to say something but the fabric muffled your voice into gibberish. max's large hands groped your ass with your skin exposed to the air.

"i give you everything." max said, "the world and all the stars. the shirt off my back and all the love in my heart. all i ask is that you're good for me." he undid his belt, the sound of the metal sent a shiver though you.

he stroked his cock a little bit, he admired the sight of you over his car. he couldn't waste too much time, but allowed himself to indulge in the pathetic sight of you. as much as you snapped your canines at him, you'd always be his pretty sub.

"i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt." he wondered absently before he pressed his cock up against your pussy, "snap a few photos." he rubbed his aching cock up against you more, further pressing you into the car. "i bet you'd love that. formula one's little whore. max verstappen's little fuck toy. wear it with honor like you do all of my bruises."

he was quick to get his cock into you. little formalities or tenderness. if you just behaved then maybe he would've afforded you that. but for now you were just something he owned. like the dress you wore, the meal you had and the luxury car you were pressed up against.

"you look so good under me." he said, "you know how to take me so well. so why do you misbehave? why do you sit there and act like a brat. you are so greedy."

you whimpered as you tried to find some way to leverage yourself on top of the shiny car hood. everything screamed wealth and a sick perverted desire. you two played this sexual cat and mouse and it excited you to no end.

max was a good dom however, he cared for you so deeply. but, you two had an agreement so he of course had to pushed you down against the hood his car and move against you.

you both had to keep it quiet. you could feel the rush of being so out in the public. slightly hidden away as max thrusted into you. your nails dragged across the paint of the hood. you tried to keep your noises to a minimum, but it was hard when you felt your insides get twisted in knots.

"see, this is how i like you. you look prettier like this. under me, gagged and letting me split you in two." he kissed at the side of your face, his slight facial hair tickled your face and made you nipples grow hard.

you felt your hips hit against the metal of the car and your pussy clenched around his length. you felt hot all over, the heat pooled deep in your gut.

the wet sounds of your fucking could be heard alongside his heavy pants. your mouth felt dry due to drooling all over the panties in your mouth. you eventually rested your cheek against the car hood.

his licked his lips as he admired the sight of your back. he made a note later to leave marks across your skin. he wanted you to remember tonight. the lesson he was trying to teach.

he demanded you to be a good girl, a good sub for him. he worked a lot and he didn't need more stress thinking that his sub was misbehaving. he knew it was possible. even if you had a bit of a bratty streak.

"good girl. see."

you whimpered and exhaled through your nose. you tensed up and arched your back. your breathing was heavy pants as you felt your heartbeat throb in the back of your head.

the rush of the possibility being of being caught only added another layer of a hot need in you. you wanted to say something to max, but he wanted you gagged and quiet.

max gave a few more heavy thrusts. your forehead was placed against the metal of the car. you felt like a live wire. you whined something around the makeshift gag. your back arched further as you came around his cock.

he then reached for your neck and held onto it tightly. you groaned a little louder, your brain felt like a puddle as he kept that pussy of yours occupied. subby sluts like you always demanded more, more, more.

he kept you pinned down and fucked you. it didn't take long for him to finish as well. he pressed his entire weight onto you, keeping you down as he finished inside of you. the pathetic noise you made only riled him up in his post-orgasmic bliss.

but sadly he couldn't get another round in with you. someone was going to come looking for their car soon and max didn't need his face in the tabloids. he pulled down your dress over your ass and let his cum leak down your thigh.

the panties were taken out of your mouth and thrown to the floor before he got you into the car and got out of the garage. his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

he knew a good place that was right near the water, where he could have a little more time taking his beloved sub apart then piece you back together. maybe then you'll remember, max was in charge. <3