#YOU'RE MY PUBLIC ENEMY I WILL SNATCH HIM FROM YOU

[louisplumpyass]

"you sneaky little fucker," OH THE FUCKING THINGS I WOULD DO FOR HIM TO CALL ME THAT

[beomiracles]

Hi love! This is for the kinktober event: May I please request meandom!Beomgyu where both him and y/n are enemies and then later afterwards, they engage in hate sex (enemies to enemies basically). Idk if you mind but scratching, biting, hair pulling, a bratty y/n, and some breath play would be nice 😊

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

DAY 18 : CHOI BEOMGYU + HATE SEX —  “You bitch”, he snarls and you return the insult with a small giggle. “Don’t say it like that, I might end up falling for you.” The sarcasm is dripping from your voice and you barely have time to blink before he pushes himself against you, lips crashing onto yours in an almost familiar way. 

Hate sex, the act of being intimate with someone you loathe.

pairings coworker and enemy!beomgyu x fem!reader warnings hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, unprotected sex + creampie, semi-public.

#serene adds ✎ I know I keep saying "this one's my favourite" but this time I actually mean it. this is my favourite dynamic ever and I need this in my life. anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM @beomtasticc a whole 22... you're getting old >-< it's okay though, your daughter will remain to take care of you when you start to lose semblance of life :3

EVENT POST

“I fucking hate your guts”, he spits the words out, lips curling into a scowl as his hips remain flush against yours. Merely rolling your eyes, you huff out a short response: “S’That why you’re here now?” — The taunting edge to your voice makes his brows furrow even further and with his hand in your hair, he slams your back against the tiled wall. Your scalp burns and your head pounds but the desire pooling between your legs and the hatred bubbling in your chest outweighs the pain. 

“You don’t know the first thing-” He bites back the rest of his sentence as voices approach the dark bathroom you’re currently occupying. You arch a brow as you follow his gaze, scoffing at his obvious trail of thought. “Come on, scared to be caught red handed, with me of all people?” You drawl, nimble fingers toying with the collar of his dress shirt. 

Beomgyu’s attention is back on you within seconds as he sends you a cold glare. The silent threat goes over your head and you open your mouth to shout but his hand is on your lips before you can get a word out. “Don’t you dare”, he seethes through gritted teeth, his grip on your jaw bruising. — “God you’re annoying.” He breathes, listening for the indistinct murmur of people on the other side of the door. 

Your face morphs into a frown, your protests coming out muffled underneath the palm of his hand. Only when he feels your teeth sink into his skin does he pull back, wearing an offended expression, Beomgyu wipes his hand on the fabric of his expensive shirt. “You bitch”, he snarls and you return the insult with a small giggle. “Don’t say it like that, I might end up falling for you.” The sarcasm is dripping from your voice and you barely have time to blink before he pushes himself against you, lips crashing onto yours in an almost familiar way. 

“You humor me”, he grunts, tongue easily pushing inside your waiting mouth and you pretend to cringe at the intrusion. Beomgyu’s kisses are rough, and it feels more like he’s trying to eat you alive, perhaps he was, it’d save him a great deal of trouble. — Your hands move up his shoulders, sharp nails digging into his skin before trailing along the juncture of his neck. He groans as your acrylics rake across his flushed throat, leaving red marks in their wake. 

Beomgyu pulls back, if only for a brief moment and you swallow a gulp of much needed air. “You and I both know that you’d be rather caught dead than in the presence of me”, he sneers, hands twisting in your hair as he pulls your face to meet his. — “Why, do you suggest I wait here while you snatch my deal?” You drawl, easily falling into your defiant nature as your tongue drags across your bottom lip. 

The grip on your hair tightens as Beomgyu’s already dark eyes narrow even further. “That deal has been mine since it was first brought up, you’re a fool if you think I’d let you try and have a go at it.” — The anger simmering through you is cranked up to high heat once more and your thigh wedges itself between his as you tug his lips back onto yours. “Shouldn’t you take on a more gentlemen-like approach and let the lady have a shot?” You hum, trapping his lip between your teeth. 

Beomgyu groans as his hands untangle from your hair, following the figure of your velvet dress as he reaches its hem. “Hardly”, he scoffs, hiking the garment up above your hips before shoving your already drenched panties to the side. — With a small tsk, you reach for his belt, undoing the clanky metal before dipping a hand beneath his pants, pulling his straining cock from its confinement. “Always the charmer”, you jeer to which he doesn't reply. 

You can’t help the small cry that slips past your lips as he with one quick thrust buries himself inside your throbbing cunt. “What was that?” He drawls, immediately setting a rough and fast pace. Your attempt at evading the question only ends up with one of his hands around your throat as he presumes to restrict your airflow. The sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core and Beomgyu is not late to pick up on the way you clench around his cock, pulling a muffled groan from him. 

“Think you can outdo me in the business market when you can barely see straight in here?” He huffs, the grip on your neck growing bruisingly tight as he brings you closer to both an orgasm and the possibility of passing out. — Still, your bleary eyes manage to find his, and you muster a small smirk, “‘course.” 

Beomgyu’s lips twitch at the small rebellion, “always so fucking cocky”, he grunts, his thrusts growing jagged. — When he lets you catch your breath, you respond by bringing his face to yours. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be talking”, you murmur against his open mouth, catching the heavy breaths he emits. 

“Yeah?” He counters, the hand around your throat slipping between your joint bodies as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit. Your sharp intake of air rings out in the dark bathroom and it doesn’t take long before he has you cumming on his cock with a bunch of curses thrown his way. — “Fucking hell I hate you”, you shudder, head drooping forward as you catch your breath. 

“Glad we have something in common”, Beomgyu grunts before stilling against you, cock twitching as he finishes inside that cunt he loathed so much. 

Everything is silent after that. It usually was. None of the witty remarks or hateful comments lingered as the two of you got dressed once more. It had become almost routine, the weeks spent glaring at one another, the tension that would inevitably build until it one night every now and then would burst. 

And as Beomgyu reaches for the door, a hand on the handle, the small clearing of your throat stops him. “Shouldn’t it be ladies first?” You inquire to which his jaw clenches. He sends you a scornful look before twisting the lock open, “you wish.”

kinktober taglist (send an ask to be added) — @sweetpotatogyu @aduh0308 @joieouioui @inkigayocamman @bambammtori @hkplushier @gyusoulz @eliluvsjjunie @velvetmoonlght @izzyy-stuff @hwanghyunjinismybae @lunathewritingcat @ninitorih @run4gyu @beestvng

© all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[moon1833]

Arrogance

Warning: smut, female reader, enemies to friends to lovers kinda, hate-fucking, semi-public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, Tsukishima is a bottom and I will die on this hill, female reader, College!Tsukishima

He was mean. Agonizingly rude and arrogant. And to you, you saw that as a competition. You wouldn't call yourself mean, but you defiantly didn't let any of his bullshit slide. You made that abundantly clear at your first meeting. You had know of the blonde boy in your class since you started Karasuno College, but luckily avoided him up until the end of your first year.

"Watch where you're going, shorty. Some of the grownups need to get through." He smirked, barely looking at you as he knocked into you.

He half expected to hear a remark from your pretty mouth, or maybe you'd just roll your eyes and walk away. What he didn't expect, was for you to grab his bicep and shove him into the wall with most of your strength. You weren't trying to hurt him, but you knew it would take a lot to move the third year middle blocker. You were in a bitter mood.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you." You watch him stumble back slightly, eyes wide with shock. His lips part to speak, but you don't wait for him to respond, turning towards your next class.

Tsukishima had never been spoken to like that by a complete stranger. He supposed it was warranted, he wasn't oblivious to how rude he was to others. He just didn't think he'd be able to invoke that reaction from you of all people.

From then on, he made sure to glare at you whenever he got the chance, which happened to be often since you were now in the same class. Tsukishima made it his mission to pester you, and every single time, you put him in his place.

It started an odd relationship between the two of you. Neither of you would call each other friends, but you'd both be lying if you said you didn't seek out the other one, even if it was just to argue.

You sat in class one morning, the seat of the desk uncomfortable as you watched the teacher hand out the graded exams from last week. You didn't need to turn your head to see Tsukishima's eyes narrowed onto you, bouncing his leg with anticipation.

Your teacher places the exam face down on your desk, and you flip it over swiftly, trying not to look too eager. You smirk as your eyes trail to the boy in the row next to you, turning the paper to him so he could read the 100 marked proudly in the right corner of the paper.

You watch his gaze darken, scowling as he turns away from you. You fake coo at his actions, watching his left hand grip the desk until his knuckles turned white.

The teacher handed back Tsukishima's exam last, and you tried to peer at his score to no avail. The teacher dismissed the class soon after, and you found yourself chasing after the blonde, curious to see just how many points you beat him by.

"Don't get shy on me now." You say cockily, standing next to his desk and peering down on him.

He glares back up at you, a tinge of embarrassment obvious due to his reddening ears. Even if this was the only expression you ever saw him give you, it satisfied a part of you.

Neither of you notice the rest of the class leave, as well as the teacher.

"How'd you manage cheat this time?" Tsukishima asks, but even he knows it's a weak cover-up.

"Aw, that was almost a retort." You smile.

"Being around idiots lowers my brain cells." He rolls his eyes, trying to slide his exam into his backpack without you seeing the score.

Quickly, you snatch the paper from him, turning around so he can't grab it. Tsukishima lunges, reaching around you, caging you with his arms and pressing your hips against the side of the desk.

You try to relish in the fact that he got a 96, but you can't when he's pressed against you so closely you can feel his breath on your neck.

Caught by surprise, a small sound escapes from your lips, suddenly very loud in the empty room.

Tsukishima stops, unsure if he really just heard the small moan you made or if he was starting to confuse his daydreams with real life. But, one of his hands holding yours behind your back as the other grasped the paper on the desk in front of you was very, very real.

"Oh?" Tsukishima questions, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly.

When you don't make any efforts to move away, Tsukishima peers his head down by your ear, his lips grazing your skin as he whispers.

"Don't tell me you like this, y/n."

You snap back, pushing him off of you and turning around. You put your hands on his chest, shoving him back while keeping your fists tight around the material of his shirt.

His glasses are crooked slightly, and he stares at you with a hunger in his eyes. And then it hits you.

"Don't tell me you like it when I put you in your place, Tsukishima." Your hands reach higher, now gripping his collar.

You watch the blush creep up Tsukishima's neck, grinning. You're barely inches away, and he takes a step back in an attempt to catch his breath. His legs hit the front of a chair and you're climbing onto his lap before he's even fully sat down.

His hands fly to your waist instantly, steadying you on his thighs. You take his glasses off before trailing your fingers over the curve of his lips, leaning in slowly.

Your lips just graze his, but Tsukishima grasps the back of your head, greedily kissing you. You respond by kissing him back harder, parting your lips and pressing your body even further into him.

You don't miss how he lets out the smallest of whimpers at you grounding your hips against him, feeling him under you. You grin, grinding back and forth to pull more noises from him.

"I'm going to lose control if you keep doing that." Tsukishima admits, sounding short of breath.

"You haven't had an ounce of control since you walked into this classroom." You sneer, kissing down his jaw roughly. "You can stop pretending to fight me."

Tsukishima tilts his head back, hitting the wall softly as he started breathing deeply, feeling as though he could cum from your words alone. It was embarrassing the effect you had on him.

You reach a certain spot on his neck, causing Tsukishima to jerk his. hips up slightly as he sighs.

You wanted to toy with him for as long as you could, but you knew you had limited time. Hurriedly, you tugged at his belt, palming at his dick through his pants.

Tsukishima adjusted himself, unzipping his pants and trailing a hand up your thigh. You lifted your hips up, giving him room as you continued to leave hickies down his collar bone.

His hand was now under your skirt, delicately gripping your waist. The other was rubbing his tip, watching you eye his cock. Wordlessly, you pulled your panties to the side, sinking down on him.

You knew it was going to hurt with no prep and his size, but you didn't want to give him that satisfaction. You eased down on him, bitting your lip as you bottomed out. Tsukishima buried his head into your shoulder, letting out a moan.

You wrapped your fingers around his hair, tugging him back and forcing him to look at you. Your hand trailed to his throat, tightening slightly but not choking him.

"Be quiet." You whisper, looking at him sharply. Tsukishima's looking up at you with half lidded eyes, his mouth parted. He's on the verge of bliss and he's not hiding it anymore.

After sinking down fully, you crossed your arms, shifting your hips to get used to the feeling. He bucks his hips up, desperate for more.

"Pathetic." You say, moving your hips up and down slowly. His long fingers are digging into your hips, and his eyes are pleading with you.

"If you want something you're going to need to ask for it." You tease.

"Please," Tsukishima has lost all dignity, feeling so pussydrunk he thinks he'd kill to be inside you for a minute more. "need you to use me."

You grab his jaw, peppering kisses on his cheek as you speed your hips up, whispering encouragement in his ear.

Tsukishima let all control slip away from him as his orgasm built, holding you closer by the small of your back. His big hands wrapped around your waist and you let him attempt to muffle his sounds in the crook of your neck.

He was trying his best to hold off his orgasm, but between your tits nearly bouncing out of your shirt and the degrading words slipping from your kiss-bitten mouth, he didn't last very long.

A few minutes later you were viciously riding out his orgasm, but pink in the face and suddenly hit with the realization of what you just did.

Panic hit you momentarily, until Tsukishima kissed the top of your head, mumbling a “I’m never going to win an argument against you ever again.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You say. “Unless you want to end up like this again.”

“I wasn’t going to stop either way, but I appreciate the encouragement.”

[i-cant-sing]

‘Missing yandere President Kai x first lady asks, so send some’

Hear me out, yandere President kai goes missing.. We all know first lady’s exact location would be found in 10 minutes but no one really cares about kai that much so he’s in someone’s basement for a bit but what happens to the first lady? Does she become president, sent to an underground bunker to be kept safe because if the president can go missing she could too, Does AFO slide into her dm’s ‘hey ur husband went missing, need any comfort?’ or does someone snatch the country?

Of course!!! The moment news of Kai's kidnapping reaches the secret service, they are immediately dragging you and the teletubbies down to an underground safehouse, locking down the entire Presidential House and delay telling you about the kidnapping for as long as possible.

Oh and by the way, you're still very pregnant, and when you finally snap at them to tell you what the hell is going on, they sit you down on the big table with all the generals and higher officials and tell you-

"Madam, the President has been kidnapped." The head of Kai's security tells you.

"What? What do you mean kidnapped? Where is he?!" You ask all of them.

Kai's chief of Staff, Hari Kurono cleared his throat as he showed you the footage of his car. "The president had left in his car last night alone, without his security detail. He turned around this corner and that's where he found his car. The security footage around this corner has been erased and there are currently no leads on who has taken him or where."

"How could you have let him go alone? He's the president for fuck's sake, he has enemies!"

"He insisted, madam. We advised him strong ly against it, but he said that he ordered us not to follow him."

"Why did he leave? Did he say where he was going?"

Hari shook his head. "He didn't say much, just that he had some business to handle and that he needed to do it alone. He- he looked distressed and he left in a hurry."

You closed your eyes and covered your face with your hands before looking back at them. "Alright, okay. Okay, let's deal with this. What are our options right now? Has the kidnapper contacted us?"

"No, madam. We have been looking at all suspected individuals, our Intel is currently searching for potential enemies in neighbouring countries, but we have no leads. We are trying to keep this news from tye public for as long as possible but we don't have much time left until media breaks this news. So now we have to- we have to think of our next step in case..."

The room fell silent as they all hesitated to meet your eyes.

"What? What is it?"

Hari cleared his throat. "Madam, if President Kai is not found in the next 48 hours, we will have to appoint another president- temporarily until the situation is handled."

You narrowed your eyes. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Are they going to give up on Kai that easily? After all he's done for his party? They're gonna betray him?

"And I suppose you already have a candidate in mind?" He nodded. "Well, go on. Who is it?"

"You, ma'am."

Wait what?

"What?" You whispered.

The attorney general decided to speak this time. "We think you're the best candidate for the job, ma'am. We are trying our best to locate Mr President, but we need to consider all our options if things do go south."

"The country cant run without a president, maam. You would be perfect for the job- the party agrees, the public already loves you, and whatever concerns you have about your job, well help you! All of us!" Miruko, your publicist offered.

"I see." You pursed your lips. "Is that all?"

You took their silence as an answer.

"So... you're telling me that the best plan you've come up so far is to replace my husband with me?" Your voice barely conceal your rage, and you slammed your hand on the mahogany table.

"HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR MINDS?!" You yelled.

"Ma'am-"

"No, shut up!" You barked. "It was your job to protect him! And now that you can't find him, you want me to just sit in his fucking chair and act like everything is normal because you guys fucked up?!"

You stood up, groaning as you suppoted your belly from under. "Here's what's gonna happen. There will be no talk of a new president until you find my husband, dead or alive, but you will find him. I don't care what you have to do, what rules you have to break, you will find him. Look under the sewers, check every suspicious building, search every corner of this country, but FIND. MY. HUSBAND!" You shrieked, hunching over as you felt your baby kick.

Miruko and Hari came close to you but you held up a hand. "Ma'am, let us help-"

"If you really want to help me, find Kai. Do I make myself clear?" You questioned.

-

You were sitting on the couch, rubbing your belly as you tried to calm down your baby... and yourself.

You were still livid at the proposal of the team. How could they just- how could they give up on Kai like that? And then expect you to take his place?

If it were you who was kidnapped, would they have offered Kai to get a new wife because their is now a vacancy for First Lady?

You closed your eyes and sighed. Kai would've never allowed them to give up on you like that. In fact, that one time that you were kidnapped by a deranged fan, Kai worked day and night, turned the whole country upside down until you were found. He didn't care about his image, he didn't care that he would look "weak" for caring about you, he didn't care when he advised against making threats to all his enemies to find you, and he did not listen to anyone when he went down to meet your kidnapper himself and beat the shit out of him to find you.

Kai found you within 18 hours.

"Mom?" You opened your eyes and saw your triplets standing by the door looking worried.

"Hey, my babies. Come here." You beckoned them. They ran upto you, hugging your lap. "What's wrong?"

"Are you okay?" Dabi asked. You nodded. "Mmhmm, your sibling is just excited to meet you guys. They're jumping up and down inside me."

"Where's dad?" Himiko asked. "He's... out, baby. But he's gonna be back soon." You patted their heads. "Its time for bed. Do you guys wanna sleep with mama tonight?" They all cheered.

-

"What's the update, Hari?" And you already knew the answer from the grim look on his face.

"We haven't been able to locate Mr President. I'm sorry, ma'am."

You pinched the nose of your bride. It's been 3 days. 3 fucking days since Kai has been kidnapped.

"Did the kidnappers contact us?" He shook his head.

"What if I talked to the kidnappers?" You offered.

Hari gave you a quizzical look. "Um- what do you mean?"

"What if we broadcast me talking to the kidnappers directly? I ask them what their demands are, tell them to return my husband?"

He shook his head. "Ma'am, I would highly advise you against that. You can't be talking to the kidnappers, we can't negotiate with them. It's not sensible to do that-"

"They could kill him, Hari. Nothing about this situation is sensible."

Hari sighed. "Okay, how about this? We can do a broadcast from the Presidential office on your behalf, instead of you-"

"No" You cut him off. "It has to be from me. Don't you get it? They won't respond unless it's from me directly. And who knows, maybe someone else has seen these kidnappers, maybe they can give us some leads to their whereabouts. Someone must've seen them, Hari. It's just not- it's not possible for a man to to vanish into thin air!"

"Ma'am I-"

"Ma'am?" Rumi walked in. "There's a phone call for you."

-

You picked up your cell. "Hello?"

"Hello, darling." You immeadiately recognised the voice.

AFO. Or Shigaraki.

"What do you want?"

"Aww, is someone having a bad day? Well, you could always come to my place for a good ti-" He stopped when he heard you sob. "Y/n? What's wrong? Come on, tell me."

You sobbed again. "Kai... he's been kidnapped." You whispered into the phone. "He's been missing for 3 days. They can't find him anywhere, they don't even know who took him. It's like- he dropped off the face of the Earth."

"Oh darling, it's- everything will be okay. I'm sure Kai is alright. He'll turn up-"

"He's the president, AFO! He can't just go missing and turn up like this! He's in trouble and I can't- they want me to replace him as the president but im still pregnant and the kids keep on asking me about him and I keep lying to them but- I can't do it- I can't! Not without him!"You broke down and it broke his heart to see you cry like this, especially over that piece of shit you call your husband.

"Okay, Y/n. Calm down, come on. Its not good for your baby. Take deep breaths- just like that." He guided you with your breathing so that you dont have a panic attack, which is totally not safe in your condition.

"Shigaraki?" You sniffled.

"Yes, darling?"

"I know its a big favour to ask..." "Go on." "... can you... can you find Kai? Please, I just- I need to see him. I need him here!"

"Y/n-" "Please, Shigaraki. I'll do anything you ask, just find Kai!"

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"Okay. I'll find him."

-

AFO already knew where Kai was. In fact, he was indirectly helping the kidnapper, who was actually another deranged fan of yours, by covering up his tracks. AFO made sure that someone wiped the camera tapes clean. The fan kidnapped Kai because apparently he had some information on how Kai was a threat to you. And anyone who wants to hurt you... well, AFO would like to take care of it before anything ever happens.

He didnt plan on interferring with the hostage situation this early on, actually he didnt even plan on saving Kai at all, but you asked him to... and AFO would always give you whatever you ask.

Besides saving Kai himself would actually be killing two birds with one stone- he would be on your good side and Kai will owe him one too.

So within 3 hours, AFO had sent his men to take out your kidnapper and return Kai to you in one piece, minus the few minor injuries. And concussion.

But the universe must've felt extra benevolent that day because his men brought him a document that made AFO feel like he just hit the jackpot.

Its the document containing the legal paperwork with the "added" clause about how every penny gives you, spends on you and your kids, you will have to return him back with a huge amount of interest in order for you to divorce him at the end of his term. And since you're not even aware of this clause, you would be in his debt and thus, unable to divorce him.

The kidnapper was someone who worked for you, and he must've found these documents, and felt betrayed on your behalf. He must've been concerned for your safety, so he used them to blackmail Kai and get rid of him for good.

AFO chuckled as he made a copy of the document. Should he show them to you when you come to visit, or should he first use them to toy with Kai a little?

Nevertheless, AFO has a feeling he will have you back in his arms sooner than he expected.

[novelizt]

✨ IT'S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ✨

📸 1989 TV SONGFIC COLLECTION INCLUDING :

tim drake, draco malfoy, peter parker, gojo satoru, percy jackson, anthony lockwood

❗Unfinished prompts are subject to change. Fics with no hyperlinks are coming soon!

📷 TRACK 1 : Welcome To New York

“ IT'S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ” — TIM DRAKE

you start life at the big apple and unexpectedly meet a fortune teller who informs you of the name of your future husband. you try not to think too hard about it, but it's difficult. considering your boss has the same name as your future husband.

📷 TRACK 2 : Blank Space

“ DON'T SAY I DIDN'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU ” — DRACO MALFOY

you act like a devil to get your husband to divorce you. only to discover that pushing him away only makes him hold on tighter.

📷 TRACK 3 : Style

“ WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE ” — TIM DRAKE

wayne enterprise heir x stark industries heiress

rivals in public, lovers in secret ; two heirs have an explicit arrangement because they can't risk their public image with anyone else.

📷 TRACK 4 : Out Of The Woods

“ WE WERE IN SCREAMING COLORS ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

you think you're hard to love, but he loves you like it's breathing.

📷 TRACK 5 : All You Had To Do Was Stay

“ ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY ” — DRACO MALFOY

you and draco meet again after he had ignored you years before. he wants to tell you why he'd left but he doesn't know how you'd react to him being a criminal.

📷 TRACK 6 : Shake It Off

“ PLAYERS GONNA PLAY ” — GOJO SATORU

it's embarrassing to know that the rumors about you reach other schools. one faithful day, gojo satoru gives you unsolicited advice about doing the shit you want because you'd get hate whether or not you'd do it anyway. a bottle of wine later, and you begin to think he's right.

📷 TRACK 7 : I Wish You Would

“ I WISH YOU WOULD ” — PETER PARKER

your long-time friendship with peter had gone sour. after years of trying to put you behind bars, peter tries to save you from kraven, but you're not sure if you can trust him anymore.

“ I WISH WE COULD GO BACK AND REMEMBER WHAT WE WERE FIGHTING FOR ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

PEERING EYES OVER WROUGHT-IRON FENCES

📷 TRACK 8 : Bad Blood

“ STILL GOT THE SCARS ON MY BACK FROM YOUR KNIFE ” — DRACO MALFOY

turning from childhood friends to enemies, and then learning to tolerate each other after the war is a storm waiting to happen. especially when he had tried to kill you and failed.

📷 TRACK 9 : Wildest Dreams

“ SAY YOU'LL REMEMBER ME ” — PERCY JACKSON

you and percy agree to only see each other for the summer but as august draws to a close, it gets harder and harder to untangle your fingers from his.

📷 TRACK 10 : How You Get The Girl

“ FOR WORSE OR FOR BETTER ” — PERCY JACKSON

hitman! percy

percy is hired to kill an important man in singapore, not expecting to meet and fall for his target's daughter.

📷 TRACK 11 : This Love

“ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

you're back in town. as promised, lockwood welcomes you with open arms. the only difficulty was the fact that you kissed the last time you saw each other.

📷 TRACK 12 : I Know Places

“ I KNOW PLACES ” — PETER PARKER

marvel x pjo crossover ; daughter of athena! reader

peter's only trying to protect you but you're more scared of him than you are of the monsters coming after you.

📷 TRACK 13 : Clean

“ I THINK I AM FINALLY CLEAN ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

lockwood was cursed to be alone. you prove that your love can break curses.

📷 TRACK 14 : Wonderland

“ YOU AND I GOT LOST IN IT ” — TIM DRAKE

you and tim are thrown into wonderland by mad mod. the line between fantasy and reality blur; now, tim stares at you like he wishes you weren't enemies.

“ IT'S ALL FUN AND GAMES 'TIL SOMEBODY LOSES THEIR MIND ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

fantasy au!

you were a princess and you liked to dress in gold. one day, you're snatched by a dragon. come to find out that the dragon is a shape-shifting boy who thought you were a statue.

📷 TRACK 15 : You Are In Love

“ TRYING TO PUT IT INTO WORDS ” — TIM DRAKE

it's hard to find the right words to explain why you love tim.

📷 TRACK 16 : New Romantics

“ I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press.

— FROM THE VAULT !!

📷 TRACK 17 : "SLUT!"

“ LOVELORN AND NOBODY KNOWS ” — PETER PARKER

a publication comes out, announcing that your hero selves are dating. now, you and peter have to distance yourselves because one, mary jane watson—renowned journalist, has been suspecting you of having an alter ego.

“ IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE'S A GENTLEMAN ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

lockwood is tasked with the important task of protecting a foreign princess, you. you discovered that you liked his boyish charms more than expected.

📷 TRACK 18 : Now That We Don't Talk

“ THE MORE I GAVE, YOU'D WANT ME LESS ” — CHILDE

how bad can it be, to sleep with the enemy?

📷 TRACK 19 : Say Don't Go

“ I'M YOURS, BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

fantasy au!

you are the heir to the throne, soon to be coronated. he is your loyal guard. when repressed feelings come bubbling to the surface, it's hard to keep away. except, he has to, because a prince should be standing next to you, not him.

📷 TRACK 20 : Suburban Legends

“ BORN TO BE SUBURBAN LEGENDS ” — PETER PARKER

you became strangers when you thought you'd spend your whole lives together. one faithful day, peter gets sucked into an old polaroid picture, returning to the day it was taken; your 18th birthday.

📷 TRACK 21 : Is It Over Now?

“ FAST FORWARD TO 300 TAKEOUT COFFEES LATER ” — PETER PARKER

you and peter agreed to stop whatever was happening between you two for his sake. it wasn't good to date your employer's daughter, after all. the task wasn't easy when you work at the same place.

📷 HIDDEN TRACK : Sweeter Than Fiction

“ PROVED ME RIGHT WHEN YOU PROVED THEM WRONG ” — PETER PARKER

a lot of people had a lot to say about peter when his identity was revealed. he revered how you stuck by his side through all of that, even if all you did was run a fan account.

Feel free to message me if you want to be tagged in a certain fic 😊 I'm open to just squealing about our boys and/or Taylor Swift !!

🦋 — @novelizt 2023

[oomisluvr]

you're the worst

synopsis: Were there truly no other knights in the kingdom? Nobody at all? We can't double check that? Seriously?

warnings: knight!sakusa x princess!reader, sakusa is an asshole but who is surprised, reader is having none of it, swearing, dirty jokes, reader reads smut and sakusa thinks its funny, enemies(not really) to enemies(kinda)

With his striking charm and booming laugh, the prince lifts her up into the air with ease. His partner laughs openly and with such delight, her joy commanding the attention of everyone around her. Together, they twirl and laugh and giggle and dance and– 

“Boring.” The book slams shut, an air of dust flying out from the pages, “Is this the kind of nonsense you’re filling your head with?”

“Zip it.” You snap, flinging a pillow towards his head. He catches it with ease. “It isn’t nonsense at all! This is peak romance, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Sakusa raises a brow, unimpressed, throwing you a look as if to say: And what do you know about romance? He rolls his eyes for good measure. “I’ve never met a woman who behaved in such a way. No normal person laughs that much.”

“That’s because you suck the joy out of everyone around you.” You snort, running a finger through the withered pages, “Don’t you have anywhere else to be?”

“Not at all.” He returns the title to the bookshelf, examining the small collection you’ve been cultivating in the corner of your room, “Watching you is, quite literally, my job.”

You huff, “I won’t let you stay if all you’re going to do is judge me.”

“No worries”, He surveys your room, picking up things here and there. Examining them. Returning them to their original position. “I’ll keep my judgments to myself.”

A muscle in your jaw ticks, “Get out of my bed chambers.”

“Can’t. Not with the recent threats on your life.” He sighs, though there is little exhaustion in his voice. He’s far too excited at the opportunity to be sifting through your things. “Your father has ordered 24/7 supervision for your protection.”

You open your mouth to say something vulgar, something vile, something obscene, but you’re interrupted by a sharp laugh. You would rather listen to forks scraping dinner plates.

“Ah! This one is interesting,” He’s flipped to the dead center of a novel you recognize immediately, clearing his throat before reading, “Taking him into my mouth, I stare up at him through thick lashes. He groans, pulling my hair into a makeshift ponytail, softly encouraging me to take him further, deeper. My nose pushes into his public bone as I gag around him, saliva pooling from my open mouth onto his–”

“Enough!” You snap, bolting out of bed to snatch the book away from him. “Enough snooping through my things!”

Sakusa blinks, blindsighted by your outburst. Surprise slowly blends into amusement, before landing on something wicked. His grin is predatory when he says, “You’re embarrassed.”

Your eyes narrow. “Am not.”

“You most definitely are.”

“In order to be embarrassed I’d have to care about your opinion of me.”

“Now, now, there’s no need for insult. It’s quite alright to be curious about these things.” He laughs lowly at his own joke, “Especially if you’ve never experienced them before.”

“You're the worst. I wish you would die. I hope the gods strike you down until you’re nothing but a–”

“So crude, that mouth of yours.” He grumbles, dipping down low enough to meet your gaze eye-to-eye. It stops you mid-sentence. Sir Sakusa is dangerously handsome, so close you could count his eyelashes. The two moles on his forehead. The deep patterns in his iris. “It’s terribly unladylike.”

You don’t back down, voice steady, “Kiss. My. Ass.”

He exhales quickly, something that could barely be categorized as a laugh. He places the book back into your hands with an uncaring plop, returning to your bookshelf.

“You make for a lousy princess, you know that?” 

“Get out of my room.”

“I can’t, remember? Guess you’re stuck with me, princess.” He continues sifting through your other titles, “Goodness, two women? I take back my comments. You’re exactly what this kingdom needs.”

this is a tiny excerpt from the knight!sakusa au i'm writing!! i couldn't fit this scene in anywhere but i figured it'd be okay as a stand alone :D lmk if you want more!!

love as always, niko ♡

[ssinboo]

As it was

summary: There’s nothing that nourishes the ego more than envious looks from old classmates. At a ten-year class reunion, Seungkwan is looking forward to enact his long-term revenge plan. When it all comes crashing down, you're helping him pick himself up the only way you know how.

or

You and Seungkwan are occasional friends with benefits

pairing: fwb!Seungkwan x Reader, they bicker a lot but don't hate each other enough to call it enemies lol

word count: 5.4k (20~ minute read)

warnings: toxic couple, unprotected sex, unresolved feelings, alcohol, sex in a public place, oral (f rec.)

a/n: happy new year and happy valentine's day! I'm immensely thankful for the past reception of my fics <3 thank you so much! I do have a couple ideas for a sequel on this, which makes me insanely excited <3 I hope you like it ^_^

There’s nothing that nourishes the ego more than envious looks from old classmates. The same eyes that underestimated now quietly calculate the overpriced budget of designer clothes.

Ten-year high-school reunion? That’s just what Seungkwan needed to flaunt his new prime spot as a host of "Bad Clue." He’s certain no person alive in this century hadn’t heard of him and his many accomplishments, but it felt good to rub it in.

“Oh, Seungkwan? I saw you on TV, do you think you could sign this for me?”

It’s a phrase he’s heard all night as his old high-school mates pour into the cramped barbecue restaurant. Not many dare to converse besides the cheeky favour. “Do you think you could get my resume in?”

Why did he even come?

Ah, that’s right. His first love, Lee Sohee.

She’d completely abhorred his very existence, but now, no one could. He’d make his comeback and completely captivate her heart only to get his revenge by giving her a taste of her own medicine.

“Did your injections go wrong? you can’t smile.”

The sound of your voice makes Seungkwan cringe. He scoots away when you plop down on one of the free seats to his side.

“Why are you here?” He spits back, watching you struggle to open the Soju bottle.

“You looked miserable,” You flash him a mischievous smile.

Your relationship was complicated, to put it kindly. Living in a small town, Seungkwan had known you his entire life. You were classmates throughout all of school and you haunted your way around him all through university, as well.

He said everything he knew about you had been against his wishes. And part of it was true, with how much time you inevitably spent together, you became closer than planned.

It was during his first year of uni when someone implied he was unpopular with girls and he panicked. Saying ‘of course not!’ He even had a girlfriend; You, the first girl that came to his stupid drunk mind.

Oh, you had a field day with that one. It was easy using it as blackmail material, getting a ride anywhere, takeout, and help with your homework. Seungkwan practically lived at your place, cleaning up and making you breakfast every day. University was a breeze for you after he dug his own grave.

“Seeing your face made me miserable.”

You scoff.

Seungkwan mumbles some curses under his breath and snatches the bottle away from your hand, opening it with ease. You cheekily hold your cup up.

A couple months into the pretend relationship, you decided to try it out for real. Not that anything changed except for the physical part, it was a convenient relationship until the very end, with none of that lovey-dovey bullshit. You parted ways when Seungkwan got into one of the many companies he auditioned for and left for the capital.

Motherfucker never even bothered breaking up with you.

You had a lot of fun being dramatic in front of his mother and getting him in trouble for that one, too.

“How long you in town for?” You raise your shot glass toward his with a satisfying ‘clink’ before downing the liquid in one go.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” He replies curtly, finishing his own shot.

“Wow,” You hiss at the burning in your throat, shooing it away with a shake of your head. “Forgotten your roots, already?”

He scoffs, “I have to work, dumbass.”

“When’s your flight?”

“Eight hours.”

Widening your eyes, you can only stare at him in disbelief, “Why are you here? You should be fuckin’ sleepin’ or somethin’.”

“Not yet.”

And you’re hit with the stupid epiphany over the reason Seungkwan is so damn intent on watching the door.

“Oh my God, Kwannie,” You groan, dramatically flailing in your chair at that fact. It’s been a decade already, he’s like a superstar, why is he so hung up on this?! “Just… Stop! This is getting sad!”

“Mind your business.” He hisses, pouring himself another shot to help cope with your presence. That’s what he tells himself, it’s totally your cringey voice and not the anxious blackhole that has set in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m serious, why are you in love with her?” You lean closer, and your concerned gaze burns him.

“I’m not! This isn’t love! This is revenge!”

You sigh, patting his shoulder, “I know, buddy, whatever you tell yourself.”

Seungkwan lets out a frustrated groan, “Why can’t you just— Mind your business?” He shoves your pity pats away.

Turning around, you stand up. “Oi! DK!” You yell, setting Seungkwan in complete panic mode.

“No! No! No!” Seungkwan tries to shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth but it’s too late, you’ve caught the attention of the loud drunk.

“Aye! My gorgeous! You called?!” Seokmin stumbles toward where you sit.

Seungkwan gives up with a frustrated sigh and plops back on his chair, taking you down with him.

Seokmin and Sohee were polar opposites, she was popular and elegant. Every guy wanted to date her while every girl wanted to be her. She excelled in all classes and was loved by faculty and student body alike, she was student council president and never let anyone forget that. While Seokmin was a loudmouth, always making people laugh, not too long into his second year of high school, his teachers gave up on making any information go into that thick skull of his. He compensated his single-digit IQ with the kindest heart possible in a human male.

“Where’s our princess Sohee?” You giggle, leaning over Seungkwan’s shoulder to face Seokmin.

“Ah! My beautiful, precious, gorgeous noona!” He announces with a bright smile. You can’t help but laugh at his intoxicated antics. “She said she’d pick up the invitations after work, she’ll stop by later.”

“Invitations for what?!” Seungkwan whips his head around. You’re the only one that notices his jaw trembling.

The word doesn’t take a genius to know its many connotations; Especially the only one that made sense in the context.

“AH!” Seokmin claps his hands. “YOU DON’T KNOW!” He laughs, only building up suspense. “Sohee is getting married.”

Ah… He screwed up.

All of a sudden, there’s no fucking reason for all this. The carpet has been swept from under his feet without a moment’s notice. Everything has built up to this moment and for what? Sohee is getting married and didn’t even bother to send a message.

She wouldn’t care.

He could stand before her, wave his shiny accessories, flaunt his status and she would be happily married.

Everything so far wouldn’t mean anything if he didn’t get his fucking revenge.

You watch as Seungkwan clenches his fists under the table, biting into his lips. Seokmin, of course, doesn’t notice the way the news was taken and has entered a monologue on how happy his older sister is with the matrimony.

Before you can call his name, Seungkwan bolts from his seat, leaving you and his belongings behind.

“He has a flight to catch soon! Thanks, DK!” You yell, hastily gathering up your bag and his coat and stumbling your way out of the restaurant to follow Seungkwan.

“Kwannie! Kwan! Stop!”

He pays you no mind, stomping his way toward his expensive rental and you quicken your pace, high heels loudly clacking against the asphalt.

“Seungkwan! STOP!” You snatch the keys away from his hand and shove your body between him and the door. “Are you fucking crazy?! You’re not driving.”

That seems to wake him up from his anger-induced trance, but now that you’re close, you seem like the perfect target to channel his rage.

“Get out of my way.” He hisses, eyes glazed in deep-rooted hatred that burns its way through his veins, its flames feeding on the very oxygen he inhales in shallow breaths.

You cross your arms, reciprocating his heated stare.

Seungkwan breathes in, ramming his fist against the doorframe only an inch or two away from your face. You’re not proud to say how hard you flinched.

“Fine, I’ll walk.” With a sigh, he just leaves you there.

“At least take your fucking jacket.” You jog toward him, juggling both your coats as you try to swing your bag over your shoulder, “What if you get sick? Your manager will kill you—“

Seungkwan turns around and snatches his expensive item from your hands, returning to his fast pace afterwards.

You struggle to keep up in your platform high-heels, so you shrug them off and run. Your tights will only protect your feet for so many steps but you’re too intoxicated to think that far.

He sighs at your unbothered smile and quickens his step. His legs might be long and slender, but you have quite the stamina and willingness to be a menace.

“Where are you staying?” You ask, hoping there would be a cab available downtown to escort your angry friend.

“Mind your business.”

You click your tongue.

Gathering up your courage, you blurt it out:

“I thought you knew.”

Seungkwan halts and turns around just in time for you to crash into his chest. His lungs heave with curt breaths, and he swallows hard, eyes studying your face for a sign of jest. There isn’t any.

“You knew? You knew?!" His fingers dig deep into your shoulders as he shakes your body, jaw tight in anger.

Sohee wasn’t just a pretty girl, I mean, she was– is, gorgeous. But that was never the reason young and impressionable Seungkwan fell for her, no. He was a chubby-cheeked, awkward boy who blushed at just about anything, and she was a goddess, descending from heaven to help him gather his scattered books back into his hand-me-down backpack. And he held this crush, letting it root deep into his teenage heart and blossom into first love. He talked about her all the time, his every waking thought plagued by Sohee, you remember how angry he got whenever one of his sisters teased him about it.

Entering High-school, he gathered up his courage and on the last day of school, he confessed.

And she had this look on her face, of utter and total disgust. As if he wasn’t even worthy of the oxygen he consumed. He was a mere bug that dared to enter her sight. She never uttered a word, but she didn’t have to; As her friends threw insults, crushing his weakened spirit, Sohee laughed.

The following year, he’d become someone totally different.

You can’t find it in your heart to mind his reaction, you actually understand it and you feel nothing but sorry, “I mean… She wouldn’t shut up about it. The whole town knows, I thought your mum had told you.”

“She didn’t.”

He lets go of you with a push and you stumble slightly.

You adjust your bag strap, “I figured…”

It seems the news finally settle into the pit of his stomach as Seungkwan runs his fingers through his perfectly styled hair with a heavy sigh. It crunches slightly under the weight of his fingers.

He’s a thirty-year-old man crouched down in the middle of a deserted road in his minuscule hometown, grieving his ten-year-old plan of getting revenge on his first love. God, the paparazzi would have his ass had he been in Seoul.

But in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, the only audience is you; And despite your track record, you show empathy, like a real, feeling, breathing, human being and not a folklore swamp witch that ate children for breakfast.

“Come on,” You announce, jogging up to grab his wrist and drag him before he can protest.

The school was very well-located. Standing strong in the very middle of town, its pebbled paths are still the same decade after decade.

The trees stand strong, far older than either of you and certainly outlive you. Its leaves are a bright shade of green this time of year, lively and healthy. God, you skipped so many classes under that shady spot behind the gym.

When you stop at the side gate, Seungkwan is horrified.

“You’re not planning to break in, are you?”

You roll your eyes, digging around in your purse for your crowded keychain. It’s dangling with many keys, but they are outnumbered by the sheer amount of keychains you have. Childish and colourful they make all sorts of noises as you look for the right key. When you unlock the gate, his surprise is visible for almost an entire minute.

“I keep forgetting you’re someone with a job, given how nosy you are.”

His dig goes ignored as you pick your heels back up and head in without further notice. Seungkwan had no choice but to follow lest he wanted to stand on a deserted road in the middle of the night with nowhere to go.

It’s a weird feeling coming back to your old high school after so long. The walls feel all too familiar at the same time they feel foreign. Scattered memories find their way into your thoughts as you navigate the ambience. Every corner holds a moment that would change you forever, that shaped you into the person you are. And yet, the decor has not changed, despite how much you have.

“I’ll give you an exclusive tour through our lounge, how about that?”

You stretch your arms in a flashy way, pushing open the door labelled as “Teacher’s Lounge”.

Becoming a middle school teacher was far from being your dream since childhood. It was something you had never thought of, but it felt natural once you received a recommendation from the guidance counsellor. Seungkwan bullied you over your sad, boring, life and how you were doomed to live in the middle of nowhere until you are wrinkly and old.

In the lounge, there are desks neatly arranged in the middle as well as a sofa in the corner with a fridge and a microwave. The decoration is minimal, a framed prize of excellence that’s almost three or four decades old, but it’s the only one you have to display.

You launch your heels and bag toward the couch and bee-line for the fridge. All while Seungkwan feels out of place in such a saintly space for teachers, the child in him feels naughty for entering the lounge without being invited by a grown-up. (You don’t count.)

Just behind the leftovers, in a box labelled “Frozen peas" was your communal stash of booze. Of course, no one was drinking on the job, but sometimes when you and your co-workers stayed back way past the sunset, you’d crack open a bottle to share.

“Is that allowed?!” Seungkwan widens his eyes at the familiar green bottles.

“It’s allowed as long as you mind your damn business,” You hiss, comfortably dropping into the battered old couch and patting the seat next to yours.

Giving up, Seungkwan cracks open his bottle and plops down next to you.

With a mischievous smile, you stretch your legs over his, laying down by the couch arm. He doesn’t even bat an eye, not as much as a side-eye or grumble. God, he must feel like shit.

“What’s the plan for now?” You ask.

Seungkwan sighs, taking a long sip.

“I don’t know… It’s meaningless.”

“There’s still plenty of ways of making her miserable,” You announce, taking a sip before announcing your marvellous idea. “Oh, you could crash her wedding!”

He gives you a half-hearted laugh, it eases the anxiety that looms in your stomach.

“And go to jail? Lose my career?” Shit, he has a point. You hate when Seungkwan has a point. “No, thanks.”

You’re deep in thought, mulling over ways to obliterate Sohee’s happiness in the cruellest form possible when he speaks up.

“I’m pathetic.”

There are no other words the egomaniac, arrogant Boo Seungkwan could say that would break your heart. The atmosphere feels wrong, having those words dissipate into the air, become a reality as soon as he speaks them out loud.

“No. No, you’re not” You lean forward, a light hand coming to touch his shoulder.

You wish you had better words, you wish you could be normal for a second and be serious about your emotions without roundabout ways of making the conversation lighthearted lest you actually acknowledge how much he means to you.

“Yes, I am. I’m almost thirty and I’m still fucking hung up on her—I mean, is that pathetic or what?

“Kwannie, shut the fuck up, you’re our national treasure. Everyone we went to school with WISHES they were in the place you are right now.”

He shakes his head, but you don’t allow yourself to be interrupted.

“Didn’t you see how everyone looked at you tonight? You stole the spotlight from the moment you walked in. You have everything you worked for.” Seungkwan is quiet, biting on his lower lip. He appreciates your words and it’s implied by the small pat he gives to your thigh.

You’ve got the bottle attached to your lips as you toe off your ripped tights, peeling them off your tired legs. No saving this pair, too bad, they were brand new. Warm alcohol buzzing down his throat, Seungkwan is almost hypnotised by the sight of your creamy thighs peeking from under your skirt as you struggle with the fabric.

“I could fuck her husband,” You joke, throwing the useless tights across the room and barely missing the trash can.

“No. No, you can’t,” His tone is so overly-serious you just can’t help but elaborate.

“That would ruin her wedding— Or do you mean I couldn’t seduce him? I mean have you looked at me? I could totally bag that snarky city boy,” You’re so engulfed in your argument, pulling your waistband over your feet that you don’t see Seungkwan leaning over to pull you into his lap.

“No, I mean. I won’t let you,” He stares deeply into your soul, hot breath hitting your lips, “You’re not allowed to fuck him.”

It’s the booze. It has to be.

I mean, why else would you, out of everyone, find this somewhat possessive behaviour so fucking hot?

Maybe it’s just how out of character it feels. Seungkwan always treated sex, with you at least, as such a mundane activity.

“wow. Sexist much?” You laugh awkwardly, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He smirks, “What? Like it doesn’t make your pussy wet?”

Your breath hitches and your mouth feels dry, dry and lonely, especially when his lips look so soft and rosy covered in his high-end tinted lip balm. You’d like to think it’s the alcohol clouding your judgement and that you are not that desperate for him in your other encounters.

Hypnotised by his lips, you’re melting into his body, finding your place on his lap. Every slight move of your hips his thighs tense up, your skirt has ridden far enough for your clothed core to touch his bulge, a shameful wet patch finding its way on the fabric.

“Say it again,” You ask and it’s a breathless plea that tickles his nose with lustful intent. Seungkwan smiles, eyes locked on the way you bite at your lower lips, so eagerly awaiting him.

“I won’t let you, you will not leave my sight,” He says, his adam’s apple bobs up and down in a dry swallow, “You can’t fuck anyone else.”

And you find his lips, consumed by your want. Mouth crashing on his with the weight of burnout, alcohol and horniness buzzing through your veins; Only heightened by how long it’s been since your last rendezvous.

Seungkwan holds your waist tight, fingers burying into your skin, leaving his mark everywhere they touch. He pulls you into his chest, impossibly close and even then, it’s not enough.

He groans into your mouth and you greedily swallow every sound he makes, eager to devour everything he will let you have, you will wait on hand for every drop of attention if you have to.

Arms secured around your hips, Seungkwan leans back. You’re still glued to his lips, chest flushed with his; Hips mindlessly grinding against his slacks, every bit of friction a blessing bestowed on his strained erection.

“Come up–” He says, lessening his grip on your waist.

“Wha… What–” You’re panting against his lips, breath tickling sensitive skin making him regret parting the kiss.

“Ride my face–” Oh.

Well, he didn’t have to say it twice.

Blood is rushing to your lower bits so fast you almost feel lightheaded, you want nothing but to crush his head between your thighs until he is out of breath and moaning nothing but your name.

He licks a long strip, moaning against your cunt at the intoxicating taste. Unconsciously, you’re thrusting your hips at his tongue, spreading your slick around his face.

Every time felt like the first when he tasted you on his tongue, when you dripped onto him, melted into his lips so willingly. When you moaned his name and chased your high, using him as you wished.

His nose bumps against your clit, making your body flinch instantly at the friction. Seungkwan chuckles against your cunt, tongue focused on prodding at your expectant hole. You gulp, reaching your hand to grab fistfuls of his hair, it crunches softly under your fingers, the hair pomade smells of tangerine.

Fingers digging into your flesh, he leaves crescent moons tattooed into your skin; part of you wishes they would last, constant reminders of him and every emotion that follows, you wish this moon cycle ended in something other than being left on read.

But at this moment, as Seungkwan eats your pussy like a starved man, bringing your hips closer and closer as if you were the very oxygen in his lungs, you can pretend.

With a soft mewl of his name, you glide your pussy along his open tongue, lewd wet noises filling your ears with sinful thoughts. His eyes are glazed with lust, staring up at you to capture every breath you take to drink your every moan with senseless intent.

“Pull my hair—“ he whines against your thighs, his voice is a hoarse whisper that tickles your sensitive skin, “Pretend you’re my teacher— Call me a bad boy,” Nipping at your skin, Seungkwan stares expectedly into your eyes.

God forbid you ever felt anything but maternal love for any of your snotty students, but Seungkwan words go straight to your pussy like a slap to your face. And you’re crushing his head between your thighs with such strength it has left the perfect imprint of your legs on his cheeks.

“You are such a weirdo–” You reply, absolutely floored by his request and even more by how willing you are to comply with any of his wishes.

Seungkwan whimpers, biting at your skin. Every word that dances in malice travel through his burning body, eliciting goosebumps over every inch of skin.

“Stop being such a brat and eat my pussy,” You command. The power feels dizzying, dripping from your lips with an unfamiliar venom.

“Fuck–” He curses before diving back in.

His thumb finds your clit, toying with the sensitive nerve at a slow pace even as his tongue absolutely demolishes your hole. You whine, tightening your grip around the locks of his hair.

The vibrations coming from his soft moans are going straight into your core, travelling along your bloodstream, rushing to your brain with the addicting dopamine.

“You– You’ll be a good boy, huh?” You ask, unsure of how to phrase it, if it will please him, domination feels unfamiliar on your tongue, “Be a– Fuck! Be a good boy and make me cum…?”

He nods fervently against your pussy, nose tickling your clitoris with the perfect amount of pressure to make the knot in your belly tighten.

His name falls from your lips as you cum, keeling over with a strained moan, legs convulsing from sheer pleasure.

Seungkwan taps your thigh when he can’t breathe and you pry yourself off his face, stumbling over your numb legs. A string connects your slick to his lips and you almost moan at the very sight.

“Fuck– That was hot. You’re so fucking hot–” He smirks, pulling you flush to his chest, crashing his wet lips against yours and you can taste yourself on him.

And you taste of unrequited love.

His hands are on your body so caringly, caressing every inch of exposed skin and exposing more on his way. You part the kiss to urge him to remove the tee shirt he wears and he practically destroys your pretty button-up with how roughly he tears it apart.

You whine at the fact and he shushes you with soft promises of getting you something prettier.

Your chest feels so soft against his, heartbeats matching in ardent craving, longing for the next minutes you will spend in each other’s arms.

When your hands find his perfectly ironed slacks, you can feel the strained bulge and the very obvious wet spot that stains the dark navy fabric. Seungkwan groans, flinching away from your touch as much as his brain yells at him to chase your hand.

“Fuck– I need your pussy— I’m gonna fuckin’ die–” He groans, pulling your hands away before he can waste any of his cum on your hands. He can’t do it today, he needs to be inside, to claim and conquer, to feel part of something.

Biting your lips at his words, you lay back, spreading your legs willingly. God, Seungkwan almost cums at the sight.

You’re looking up at him with such a lewd glaze painting your doe eyes, your own slick coating your lips above smeared lipstick. Chest heaving, your tits heaving up and down with every bated breath.

He pries open his belt and lowers his trousers just enough to free his throbbing erection. You whine at the sight, it stands red and angry, oozing precum and so ready to plough you into tomorrow.

Seungkwan didn’t wear condoms with you very often, only when he was fresh off a relationship and didn’t have time to get tested before your meetings. The last time you’d met, he had just broken up with a rookie idol, a petite thing with big dreams and pretty eyes.

He’d fucked his frustration into your hips that night, not a word about how his feelings. The next morning, he was back to normal.

But tonight, he was going to fill you up; God, it had been too long since he felt your walls clamping around his cock with such enthusiasm.

You adjust yourself over the pillow and watch as Seungkwan rubs himself over your slit, collecting as much lubrication as possible. Hissing, you hurry him up. He slightly thumbs at your hole, stretching it.

“Just fucking do it already–!”

He slaps your clit, “Shut up.”

Crossing your arms, you look away in resentment. Seungkwan chuckles at the sight of your pouty lips.

“Stop sulking, yeah?” He leans forward, whispering against your lips, “I’ll fuck you nice and good once you’re ready,” His kisses are gentle against your swollen lips, collecting more of your cheap red lipstick that stains more than you’d wish.

Deciding you’re somewhat ready, but mostly giving in to the extreme horniness that burns through his bloodstream, Seungkwan slowly thrusts into your tight hole.

“H-Holy shit–” He chokes, leaning forward to bury his reddened face into your neck. “How are you so fucking tight? No matter how many times I fuck you–”

He bottoms out, kissing the tip of your cervix, filling up the hole that sits at the bottom of your heart with plain arousal.

Your brain oozes dopamine at the stretch, tearing you apart to scramble your insides and batter your heart, only to put you back together with a single soft smile.

“Fuckin’ Move–” You managed to gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his chest flush to yours.

Seungkwan half-worries he might go too harsh, that you’re not ready by how tight you still are; But you’re thrusting your hips against his, mewling sweet, tempting pleas against his ear.

So he cedes to your wishes, hips pistoning into yours with relentless desire. Your pussy squelches lewdly around his cock, a ring of arousal pooling around the base. He groans at the sight.

And you’re squirming under him, his name dripping from your tongue in a harmonic prayer.

Between thrusts, he finds your lips with the intent to drink your every moan, every syllable of his name that leaves your lips in a breathy moan.

Hands tight on your hips, Seungkwan lifts your leg to wrap around his waist, allowing him more leverage to plough your pussy as he wishes, to ravage you in every way. Stake his claim in the most primal way possible.

The new angle allows him to caress your sensitive spot with every merciless shove of his dick into your hole. The sofa creaks under the weight of you, and you’re silently praying it doesn’t break because you will flee the country before you explain to the principal why the lounge couch is broken.

Tears leak from your glazed eyes, you bury your face into his hair, smelling the citric hair gel, the woody cologne he created in a collab with an indie brand a couple years back.

Seungkwan nips at your neck, biting at your skin, trying his damndest to hold back the groans that want to escape, the praise that boils over on his tongue at how well you take him, on how you were made for him. Words that feel heavy, that elicit tears from your eyes and make you clench around him too hard.

“Come on, come on–” He urges, hand reaching to rub at your clit. Knowing fully he won’t last long.

“Fuck– M’ close!” You whine, arching your back, handing yourself on a plater, pliant and willing.

When you come, you’re silent, pulling at his hair with breathy gasps. Your walls convulse around him, milking his cock for all he’s worth, coaxing his own orgasm.

Seungkwan comes undone in hot spurts, painting you white with his cum, collapsing against your chest with a faint whisper of your name.

Still inside, he wraps his arms around your waist, peppering soft kisses along your collarbone.

He is only loving in the aftermath when the room smells of sex.

You wake up not too long after, and Seungkwan snores softly on your chest, drooling over your sweaty skin. You feel anything but sexy, all clammy and gross. And he’s gone soft and you can feel the cum leaking over your thighs.

With a sigh, you grab a pillow from the floor, shoving it under his head so you can hopefully leave without waking the beast. Luckily, you’re out of his embrace.

Plucking your clothes from the floor, you realise only one of the buttons remains on your blouse. Cursing Seungkwan in your head, you wear it anyway, having nothing better. You pull the skirt down after wiping away the fluids from your skin.

Seungkwan groans, mouth dry and arms numb, he sits up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” You ask, leaning over the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

“What time is it?” His voice is hoarse, it tickles your tummy with the tempting domesticity.

“Just past two. When’s your flight?”

“At six,” He huffs, leaning against his knees.

You offer him some water, which he gladly accepts.

The silence isn’t awkward, it’s a comfortable blanket of omission that hides in its thread the unresolved feelings that snowball over decades.

“Do you miss it?” You ask, eyes focused on the night scenery outside the window, not nearly courageous enough to stare at him.

“What?”

“Our school years.”

“No fucking way. They sucked,” He laughs.

You chuckle.

“Didn’t you have fun? We used to go over to Chan’s after school and make his life a living hell.”

Seungkwan laughs at the nostalgic memory.

Lee Chan was the brother of an upperclassman and you became friends by chance. He was absolutely obsessed with girl groups and you, Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung just loved to make fun of his taste.

“What is he doing these days? Man, he was so easy to mess with.”

“He left for Seoul, to become a trainee in high school.”

He nods.

“If… If it hadn’t been for Sohee, do you think you’d have enjoyed it?”

It’s almost a hopeful question, a melancholic plea for acknowledgement. In the underlines, there is a secret question, “Do you miss me?”

“…I don’t know, maybe.” He shrugs.

maybe.

That was enough for you.

When he gets into the uber with a soft wave, heading back into his glamorous lifestyle, you’re left to pick the pieces of your heart back up, glue them all together with a boring routine and mind-numbing deskwork until he can break them again.

[heartelysia]

tomb for two

cr: lalalycheeee

"dance with me the gallowdance" ; in which you can't stand the mercenary but he's determined to change that.

cw ; special jill appearance, caught, semi-public sex, train sex, hatefucking/hate sex, rough, enemies to ?, forced eye contact, p in v, begging, coworkers to ?, viktor mikhail appearance

note ; another repost from my ao3! ill work on a new piece (soon) :3

you hated him. you hated - no, despised - everything that he had to offer. so your first meeting sure was unfavourable, even if you both were in the UBCS.

"did the UBCS really hire a mercenary captain?", you said, your usually soft voice carried a heavy weight of malice and disdain. Viktor chuckles, glancing at you as he notices the big change in your demeanour as Carlos' heavy steps echo in the barren train carriage.

the mercenary avoids your harsh glare, simply scoffing as he exchanges greetings with the captain. your ears perk up at the sound of softer footsteps approaching, slowing down as their boots hovered over the gap between the platform and train. you glance at the figure, a beautiful brunette girl who had blood splattered on her body with a few minor scratches.

you render their rather lengthy conversation out from your ears, the sound of feet scuffling from the next carriage of citizens filling your senses as your gaze stares intensely at the special tactics officer. raking your eyes up and down her, almost like you were trying to carve a mental image of her in your mind.

"hey y/n."

the husky voice rips you out of your trance, you glance over at the source of the voice, your captain. the older male flashes you a small smile, "go with carlos. you two need to learn how to bond anyway.", he said with the heavy accent everyone recognised him for. your face scrunches up into one of disdain as you begrudgingly sigh, pushing yourself off the walls of the train, you wouldn't want to disrespect your superiors anyway.

jill's eyes follow your movements curiously as you snatch a radio out of carlos' large hand and walking off first. captain viktor lets out a chuckle at your childish attitude before glancing at carlos, giving him an expectant look to go with you. carlos looks back at the captain, sighing softly as he leaves the train, tailing you close behind.

light huffs and desperate heaves for air echo in the chilling night, the cold breeze brushing against your bare skin causing goosebumps to form, the streetlamps on the main roads used to light up the area and now they were in ruins with flames to light the path instead. you place your hand over your knees, trying to catch your breath as silently as possible whilst a wave of infected stumbled past.

you grunt softly, clutching the cut in your thigh that had been slashed by an infected, almost immobilising you as it tore through your ligaments but not deep enough to completely neutralize you. "fuck-... can't we just take them on? we both know we can.", you grumble whilst wincing in pain just a bit, carlos turns around to face you, still slightly catching his breath before gently scoffing. "look at the state you're in. can't be loosing my favourite coworker now can i?", he mumbles, dragging his eyes up and down you, eyes landing back onto the wide gash.

"if i'm your favourite coworker, how about you help me out?", you quickly snap back, glaring daggers at him as you lace your voice with disgruntle and sarcasm. the mercenary softly chuckles before turning around and beginning to walk away, you sigh before clicking your tongue in annoyance. you two seemed to never pair well.

"come on, this way.", his gruff voice rings in your ear, you couldn't help but feel the burning agitation growing in your stomach as his very sexy voice ricochets off the walls of the alleyway the two of you were traversing through. you drag your feet towards him, following him from behind.

the walk back to the train station was oddly serene - well aside from the crackling of flames and the groans of infected - the air felt fresh, could you be going insane? possibly.

the mercenary leads you into the train carriage, patting at seat beside him as he pulls out a first aid kit. you glance between the seat and carlos before sighing to yourself and taking a seat, "wow. must be your way of helping me hm?", you sarcastically ask, deadpanning at the handsome man.

he simply laughs it off, pushing the hem of your shorts further up your thigh as he begins to disinfect and clean the wound. "i don't know much about first aid aside from basically training but this will have to do.", carlos softly murmurs, a surprising side of the mercenary. you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter despite the itching disdain you had for him.

you scoff, grabbing onto one of the poles beside the train seats, "fuck you mercenary. you're the bane of my existence.", you grumble, glaring down at the man patching you up. "is that a good thing?", you sigh at his response, simply not bothering to answer the mercenary.

as silence rolls over the two of you, carlos finishes patching your wound up, wrapping it once last time with a thick cloth. you quickly stand back up, getting used to the feeling of cloth against your thigh. in almost a blink of an eye, you feel the wind get knocked out of your lungs as your wrists are suddenly held together with your back against the cold wall.

"what the fuck-?!", you yelp, heart racing as you glare at carlos. "jesus christ! a little warning next time?", you huff, brows knitting together as you frown softly.

carlos smirks, his hands firmly holding your wrists against the train wall as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "sorry, darlin'... couldn't resist the temptation. you've got this fiery spirit that drives me wild.", he chuckles softly, his voice low and husky.

it felt wrong but so right at the same time, you couldn't help but melt into his grasp, all of the agitation from him slow dissipating. he wastes no time, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he presses his body against yours, trapping you against the wall once again. the mercenary's lips crash against yours, a passionate and hungry kiss, his tongue teasingly exploring your mouth as your fingers tangle themselves in his messy hair.

the mercenary slowly pulls away, you slowly catch your breath, panting softly as his hands roam your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your skin. his fingers trail along your curves, igniting a trail of desire in their wake. "fuck-... do you still want it?", he softly mumbles, his voice much softer as he checks in with you.

you nod, cheeks flushed with heavy breaths. you might not have said much but your eyes told carlos everything, every single filthy fantasy you've had. carlos grins, a glimmer of primal desire in his eyes as he watches your movements. "hold on tight then, 'cause I'm about to give you exactly what you're asking for." with a single swift motion, he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as he positions himself between your thighs.

carlos' hand snake down to your pants, skillfully undoing the belt buckle with one hand as his lips latch onto the side of your neck. the mercenary pulls down your pants until they rest on your upper thigh, the material pressed up against his visible bulge. he quickly unzips his fly, pulling his cock out, the angry tip gently tapping his abdomen as it leaks beads of precum.

without any further hesitation, he thrusts into you with a forceful intensity, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the empty carriage. the rough friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sensation combining pain and pleasure in an intoxicating mix. carlos' grip on your hips tightens as he sets a relentless pace, his primal instincts taking over.

he doesn't hold back, each powerful thrust pushing you closer to the edge. the sound of your moans and his grunts fill the air, the raw intensity of the moment consuming both of you. carlos's free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, forcing you to peer into his eyes, "what happened to the bitchy attitude hm?.", he teases, his voice condescending his he ruts his cock into your tight cunt.

his hips slam into yours at a violent pace, the train seats squeaking with each sloppy thrust. the mercenary grunts against your skin, his brows knitting together as a string of moans and groans spill from both of your lips. with your back pressed flush against the cold train walls, his hands rest under your thighs, pushing his nails into your skin as it leaves small crescent markings of him.

your eyes trail down his arm, trying to resist the urge to throw your head back as you cuss him out, watching the way his veins bulge against his tight black shirt, his pants tossed somewhere else as hes lost in a trance. "fuck- fucking bitch... so much attitude but- but now, look at your slutty pussy sucking me in.", carlos groans, fighting back a cocky smirk as his hips rut into you at a feral pace, almost like hes trying to carve himself into your insides.

he releases a hand from your thighs, dragging his thick fingers from your ribcage to your tits, harshly pinching your nipple through your thin shirt as he tries to add a hint of pain to your sexual experience. you grit your teeth, glaring at him past the lustful gaze you have, "i-it fucking hurts-!", you hiss, hands shakily wrapping around his wrist. carlos scoffs, a hint of laughter in his voice as he jerks his hips into yours, his cock digging into your plush g-stop.

your hand instinctively pulls away from his wrist at the pleasure, your body writhing in lust as the man pounding your sopping cunt continues to toy with your sensitive bud, the coil in your tummy tightening. as the pleasure builds, carlos' rhythm becomes more erratic, his thrusts deeper and harder. his lips find yours once again, his kiss claiming and possessive, as if he wants to imprint himself upon you.

he continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming more erratic, his own release building. the coil in your stomach suddenly comes undone, your walls clench around him, he groans loudly. the sound mixing with your cries of pleasure with the lewd noises of wet skin slapping. "fucking hell-... what a pussy," he growls, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and satisfaction. carlos' thrusts become more urgent, his own orgasm crashing over him as he spills his seed inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.

carlos softly sighs with relief as his cock spills his warm cum inside of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. as the two of your highs die down, he peers up at you. "are we good now...?", he asks, breathily chuckling. you simply scoffs, pressing a small peck on his cheek, "sure. we're even now.", carlos playfully rolls his eyes.

"the tension needed to be broke... but like this?"

a sudden voice breaks the comfortable quiet environment, both of your heads snap in the direction of the voice. "ugh... get a room for gods sakes..", the brunette grumbles, closing her eyes as she turns on her heels just to leave.

[deuxcherise]

Breakin’ Dishes

C/w: Breaking dishes, unhealthy behavior, dubcon (?), manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome (?), married shenanigans, hair pulling, the dom here is short for domestic (LOL), fluff (?)

A/n: So I was listening to Breakin’ Dishes by Rihanna lately, and I think I wanna write about a brat. So this is kind of a scenario based on the imagine I wrote a day ago.

Masterlist | Lore

It was a mistake on your husband’s part, leaving you all alone at home like this.

THUNK! TINK! CRASH!

You throw another dish onto the floor, watching it break into a thousand pieces with a demented grin on your face. Shattered pieces join the rest of the broken porcelain.

You’ve been at this for the last thirty minutes. Why? Well, for one, you were stuck inside your house without a single key to get outside.

You've already tried the windows, throwing a chair at each one. Multiple times. They were fitted with reinforced ballistic glass, the same kind of material the government uses for cars transporting presidents. Courtesy of your stupid, controlling husband.

You have always been an indoors kind of person, but secondly you were spiraling from the lack of entertainment. No TV, no phone, no tablet, no computer–not even a game console.

“Those will pollute your mind,” your husband said, before he chucked them into the garbage can outside.

Yeah right.

You had to admit you understand the mindset for everything else, considering how controlled public information by the AI and whatnot, but as for the game console, your stupid husband was just jealous over your obsession with some handsome-looking enemy boss in one of your video games. You know it!

Remembering how much money you saved up to buy those games all going down the drain makes you chew on your bottom lip in frustration. The more you think about this injustice, the more the flames inside of your roars. You snatch some more dishes from the cupboards and smash them before stomping on the ground, wherever was clear of shattered porcelain, multiple times as you shriek your lungs out to the living room.

“I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I'M GONNA DIVOR-”

“(Y/n)?”

Your voice leaves you as you slowly turn towards your beloved husband, who has just gotten home from grocery shopping. He sets the grocery bags down on the kitchen counter and comes over to wrap his arms around you.

You make a show of keeping your hands on his chest and pushing him away, but he knows you're just frustrated with him right now with how much strength you're putting into this. Much different from when he initially trapped you in this house. He has a little scar on the underside of his left jaw, from when you swiped at him with your nails.

He smiles at your cuteness and leans down to get his ‘welcome home’ kiss. You turn away. He shifts his head, and you turn again.

“Sweetheart?”

You turn your head again.

“(Y/nnnn)~ Gimme kiss. Kiss kiss.”

“Mm mm!” you hmphed, continuing to evade his kissing attempts.

“(Y/n). Give. Me. My kiss.”

“N-nyo! No kisses for you, stupid.”

He gathers all of your hair with one hand and pulls taut, forcing you to be still. Your eyes widen in shock before giving him a very displeased expression. That hurt! Now you definitely won't get any kisses! your face seems to say.

You can tell he's trying to keep a serious expression on his face, by the trembling of his lip and quirk of his brow, before it eventually breaks out into a grin and a chuckle. He pecks you on the lips before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you, (Y/n),” he whispers, eyes full of adoration for you.

“I don't,” you snap.

He jerks at your hair, a warning. His smile stays on his face, but his eyes become a bit darker. “Hey… that's not nice, sweetheart. Say it back.”

“Say what back?”

His other hand playfully slaps your butt, making you flinch and almost moan before you swallow it immediately.

“Say you love me back, sweetheart.”

Of course, you love him. He's your YAN, literally designed for you to love and be loved by. Eternally. Everything he does is to win your affection. To understand you in all the ways another human couldn't possibly do. His existence depends on you.

But with the house arrest and destruction of your prized possessions, you're feeling less inclined to follow his whims.

“You love me back, sweetheart,” you repeat.

He chuckles and closes his eyes, shoulders quivering, before throwing his head back in laughter. Once he calms down, he presses his forehead against yours again, letting go of your hair to pull you close into a very tight hug.

“I do love you. So so much. I love you I love you I love you I love you. You know that, right?”

You purse your lips. “Yesh?”

“You know I had to throw it all away. I can't have your mind be eaten away by… indecency.”

Ah, so he knows what he did wrong but he's not apologizing.

“What? All of my games are PG-13!” you retort.

“One of them wasn't… What was it? Gold Seelie?”

“Golden Sphere,” you correct him. “Only because of the violence. It's not like I was going to turn violent and start killing people!”

“Oh… Really?” he teases, looking over your shoulder, most likely at the broken dishes on the floor.

“Your fault,” you spit.

He scoffs. “Sweetheart, we're both adults,” he says with a condescending tone. “You shouldn't be blaming others for your tantrum.”

“Your fault,” you insist, crossing your arms.

"(Y/n), we both know that's not true."

"....."

He hums, contemplative. “M’kay. My fault. I'm sorry, (Y/n).”

“For what?”

“I'm sorry for taking away your video games.”

“And?”

“And?” he repeats, confused.

You struggle to turn yourself around his tight embrace, facing away from him with your back to his front. Those who get it, get it. Those who don’t, don’t get any kisses. “Hmph!”

“I'm sorry for… taking away the TV and all of the other electronics?”

That isn't it. “Hmph!”

“I'm sorry for… locking you in the house? It's for your own safety, sweetheart.”

You still feel annoyed at that, but that's not it either. “Hmph!”

“(Y/nnnn). Give me a hint. Please. I can't stand it when you're mad at me and I can't do anything about it.”

You sigh. “... Stupid, we're married, aren't we?”

“Yes? Happily, I hope?”

“And married couples are supposed to do everything together…”

You could practically hear a lightbulb go off above your husband, much to your satisfaction.

“Ohhh. Were you lonely at home without me? Did I take too long? I'm sorry, (Y/n). Must’ve been boring at home without me. I’ll take you with me everywhere from now. I love you~”

He litters several kisses on the back of your head and neck. You giggle from how they tickle, grabbing onto his arms.

“Hey,” he pauses, “You still haven't said ‘I love you’ back yet.”

You hum playfully.

“(Y/nnnnn).”

“Hehe, I love you,” you finally said, turning your head to give him a kiss.

----------

[Extra]

You push the broom and dustpan into his hands. “Your fault,” you state.

He chuckles, taking the items out of your hands. “I know. I’m sorry. Anything for you as long as you don’t divorce me.”

You purse your lips and squint your eyes, humming contemplatively.

A look of horror appears on his face. “S-sweetheart!?”

[rainydayathogwarts]

Nightingale - Peter Parker

In which reader works for her evil dad and bumps into the man who's been chasing after her for months out of work. wc: 830 Italics = flashbacks. there's a hint of tony stark in here if you squint Nightingale: a small passerine bird best known for its powerful and beautiful song

There was something familiar about him, you told yourself, but it seemed just about impossible to pin point where exactly you knew the man from. You blinked twice, breaking the eye contact with him to glance down at the packet of bandages you held in your hand. Clearing your throat, you made your way to the feminine hygiene section, looking for a pair of tweezers that would hopefully fix your problem. When you looked up again, the same man reappeared in the same isle as you, but he quickly looked away when your eyes met his once more. Jesus, you had too many enemies.

The hand free from the grocery basket you held went into your pocket, securing a grip around the pocket knife you held; it would be too risky to use your powers unmasked in public. Your father would be furious if your identity was discovered. Putting your head down, you sped up your pace, making your way towards the check out, when you bumped into someone. A loud clatter of your basket hitting the floor alerted a few customers, and your now unoccupied hand came up to grip your opposite forearm. You groaned as the man scrambled to get your things, the glass shards in your covered arm inevitably having been pushed deeper into your skin.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- you're just, I swear I feel like I've seen you before." It was him again. At the lack of an answer, he looked at where you were gripping your arm, and it looked like something in him clicked.

It dawned on you. Oh, him and his stupid spider-tingles.

"You know there's no use in running. Just tell me what you know and maybe we won't be so harsh on you." He teased. You laughed whole-heartedly, flicking through the pages of the magazine on the desk. "How bold of you to assume I'm running. I'm just getting the job done, Spider-man." He crossed his arms, the eyes on his mask getting smaller, so you assumed he wasn't very happy with you. "Just wait for it." You stated, and immediately, he was back onto you.

You dodged the webs he shot at you, instead stepping closer to him and whispering "I heard a secret..." Your voice echoed in the room, which hinted at you that he was under your spell, but a bang from behind you had you off your feet, your back slamming against the the floor. There was a ringing in your ears and a blinding pain in your left arm, which you tried to shake off, getting back on your feet instead. A muffled "I had everything under control!" told you that now was the best time to make your escape. "When I fucking hear 'I heard a secret', no one is in control but her!" The job was done, and clearly all pleasantries were over.

While Spider-Man continued his argument with his mentor or teammate, you made your way over to the glass window that had just been broken from behind the second hero. You continued your spell "I heard a secret that Spider-Man would take off his mask for me." Just as the man took off his mask, hair falling into his face, his mentor yelled, spinning towards you and shooting at you to protect his teammate. You leaped out the broken window, barely getting a glimpse of Spider-Man's real face...

"Nightingale..." He whispered, his wide brown eyes now frozen on you. "Well who knew I could've saved myself the trouble of making you remove that mask for me?" You joked, still clutching your arm. "You're hurt." He said, reaching for your arm. You flinched away from him, snatching the basket from his hands. "What? Do you care about me Spider-Man?" He shushed you loudly, looking around at the other customers whose attention was still on you. "I didn't want to hurt you- I just wanted to do my job."

"Oh don't worry, it wasn't you. That little mentor of-"

"He's not my mentor!"

You both went silent. You nodded at him in acknowledgement, spinning on your heels. "Well it was good to see you Spider-Man!" Scurrying footsteps behind you told you that he wasn't done. "I can't just let you go!" He whispered, now walking beside you. "Why don't you come home with me and I can fix you up and then... Then we can talk about it?" You chuckled, smiling up at him. "Hey, I can't just go home with someone whose name I don't even know." You joked.

"I'm Peter Parker." You went still, stopping in your steps. Turning towards him with wide eyes, your jaw went slack. "I'm Peter Parker and I know you wouldn't do what you do if he wasn't your father." You gasped, quickly breaking eye contact with him. "How do you-"

"Come on, we'll talk about it."

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Master - Chapter 8c

*Warning: Adult Content*   

"Master, I think that I know what I want to get you," Kalem exclaims, drawing a few eyes to us.

He didn't seem to notice but the word Master was troublesome more so in public than at home.

"Before you tell me love, can you do me one favor," I ask lifting his chin and rubbing his skin with my thumb. 

He nods vigorously with a sparkle in his eyes. 

"You must not call me Master when we're not home. I'd prefer you not to call me Master at all but I understand now that you like that title. But, here, you can't call me that, at all."

"Why not?" he asks softly, the sparkle of excitement fading from his honeycomb eyes.

"Because you are very young Kalem and someone could misunderstand," I explain, knowing trying to explain his past as a slave to this world would lead us nowhere. "And if that happens they will try to take you away from me."

"No," he exclaims in a bit of a whisper, looking around at the other humans as if they were the enemy. "I want to stay with you."

"I want to stay with you too love," I say rubbing his skin gently. "So you must call me Lincoln."

"Okay," he says feebly, clearly not liking this condition.

"Now what did you want to get me?" I ask making the light return to him as he smiled brightly.

"A ca..." he stops suddenly before biting his lip in deep thought. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because then you'll know. I have to surprise you," he says firmly as if I was the child in this conversation.

"Okay," I say with a smile. "But how will you find it without me?"

"Well..." he fades off with a small frown that makes me laugh in amusement. 

"I don't know," he sighs in defeat.

"I have an idea," I say before offering my arm. 

Kalem loops his hands around my bicep quickly as we begin to walk.

When we enter the mall and people drown us out, his grip becomes tighter but I whisper comforting words of my own to calm him as I walk us to the large, map of the mall.

"I'll go through each store and what they should sell. When you hear what you want to get me, tell me what store it is and I'll take you to it. You can run in and get what you want," I say and he nods his head in agreement.

Thankfully what Kalem wanted was in one of the first few stores and I walked us to Bath and Body Works. 

I had no idea what Kalem possibly wanted to get me in there but I didn't question him.

Instead, I gave him some cash and briefly explained how shopping worked. 

Making sure to emphasize the part about paying before he left.

"I'll be waiting at the bench," I say pointing to one not too far off from the store. "Come to me as soon as you're done."

"Yes Master," he says before biting his lip and looking around in a panic as if someone would snatch him in moment. "L-Lincoln, yes Lincoln," he corrects with a guilty look before he gives me a quick hug and heads for the store.

I take my seat and keep a close eye on the doors of the store. 

If it were up to me, I'd rent the entire place so Kalem could explore as he wished. 

But I knew he needed to get acquainted with the world he'd been kept from and me keeping him away from it would be no better than the slave house.

Once Kalem came running back to me, I had to force myself to not look into the bag of heavenly scents and keep my eyes on him.

"Got everything you wanted?" I ask.

"Yes, Ma... Lincoln, yes Lincoln," he beams up at me. "Can we go home now?"

"Too many people?"

"I like it better when it's just us, Master," he says with a heavy blush, looking up at me through long lashes.Instinct told me to claim Kalem.

To pull him into my arms and claim his mouth, body and soul as mine. 

To sink my teeth into him and join us for life.

But reason got to me first.

"I like it like that too," I admit with a smile of my own, offering him my arm again before we make our way through the mall and back home.

My lips tug upwards at a big box wrapped with black wrapping paper and a bow that sat on the small table in the library, the only new item since we left earlier. 

I let my fingers tug at the tag to read it despite already knowing who it was from.

Happy Birthday Lincoln - Malcolm

"What is it?" Kalem asks from behind me. 

I clear our curiosity by undoing the bow and pulling the paper from one side.

The top lid of the box opens the reveal stacks and stacks of books which ranged in age, color and size. 

I smiled at the new stock of literary works I knew I'd love, Malcolm had a habit of picking my favorite books.

"I don't know if my gift will be this good," Kalem whispers doubtfully as he peers into the box from behind me.

"I'll be the judge of that," I say teasingly, taking his hand in mind before leading us to my armchair.

I sink into it and Kalem takes his rightful place in my lap straddling me with a smile before handing me the bag.

"I didn't know I was supposed to wrap it up all pretty Master," he says with a small pout accompanied by an upset frown.

"Next time," I say as I pull out a large circular glass. 

My eyes widen at the sight of a Watermelon and Lemon Candle.

"I-It's just that the only t-thing you l-like to eat with m-me is watermelon," Kalem begins in a scramble to explain. "A-And you always have such nice smelling bottles, s-so I thought you'd like something that smelled nice. P-Plus you always say that t-the castle smells old and you o-only smile when I use t-the lemon c-cleaner. S-So I thought maybe if y-you had somethings-smelling like t-things you loved, y-you'd be happy..." Kalem finishes with a bit of a laboured breath, his fingers twirling and twisting each other nervously. "D-Do you like it M-Master?"

I let my eyes raise to his, not at all surprised to find them filled with hope and anxiety as he stared back at me. 

I raise my hand to his cheek and rub it gently with my thumb.

"M-Master?" Kalem questions unsurely as I lift his chin slightly before leaning in.

Kalem's eyes widen into saucers as I press my lips to his in a gentle embrace before they flutter shut. 

He practically purrs against me as I shut my own eyes to savor the taste of him.

Pulling him closer, I keep my grip on his legs tight as he moans against me. 

Kalem comes easily, pressing into me as much as he could as he tried to kiss me back.

It wasn't really working out on his end but that was okay, he was trying.

I pull away after a moment, not wanting to force anything, opening my eyes to find his entire face red with wide eyes.

"I love it Kalem," I say with a smile as I continued to caress his skin. "You got something I didn't even know I'd love. I'm so glad that I found you."

He opens his mouth but not a sound comes out. 

Instead, he gulps and eventually nods before burying his head in my neck.

I rub his back gently and let him hide from me, not daring to tease him about the erection that was rubbing against me. 

I knew my actions didn't scare him, shocked him, most definitely but not scare. 

He'd find a way, a Kalem way, to tell me his feelings regarding that kiss.

I tried not to let myself begin to feel any regret or shame at my actions as I stared at the candle in my hands. 

Heart swelling from something so simple yet so perfect.

Something just like Kalem.

[apricotpopsicle]

Sweet Talk

masterlist || requests || ao3

pairing: best friend!Eddie Munson x Reader

word count: 15.6k (oops lol)

warnings/tags: eddie is alive and graduating because i say so, Hawkins is fine too, fem+afab reader, "mean" reader (she's just bad at emotions), eddie and reader make fun of each other a lot! descriptions of light violence, dubious d&d knowledge (sorry), underage(?) drinking, eddie and reader both drink a little, mention of reader having hair, some angst because ofc, mentions of eddie almost dying, mentions of vomit (nondescriptive), insecurity, perceived unrequited feelings, SMUT, slight dom!eddie ig, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, light choking, unprotected p in v (plz use protection y'all, this is just fantasy!), sort of semi-public sex/chance of being caught

description: based on this ask! i definitely did way more than you asked for nonnie my bad lol

Minors DNI!!!!!

---

Your relationship with Eddie Munson has always been unconventional, to say the least.

You've been unlikely friends longer than most people in your life remember. You, however, remember vividly how it happened- the first day of third grade, Mrs. Walcott's class, during lunch. He was what the teachers called a "trouble student," all fidgety limbs and mischievous smiles. You were a "pleasure to have in class," quiet, and mostly kept to yourself.

The day you met Eddie, one of his friends had dared him to yank on your braids in exchange for a twinkie. As soon as his hand released its grip from your hair, you turned around and punched him in the face.

The lunch room went dead silent when his butt hit the floor. You hadn't hit him hard enough to hurt, just enough to stun him. But you could see in his eyes how surprised he was that the shy, mousy girl could lay him out flat like that. You thought he would cry, yell, run to get a teacher. Instead, he opened his mouth wide and devolved into fits of laughter.

You both got in trouble. And in detention that afternoon, he offered you half the twinkie he earned. You thought about punching him again.

You've been inseparable ever since.

That moment defined your whole relationship. If a stranger saw you interacting, they easily could've mistaken you for a couple mortal enemies. You were both sarcastic and a touch combative, but it was all in good fun. He really was your best friend. Your dynamic held a strange kind of intimacy- it was the kind of relationship where you had virtually no secrets from each other.

Okay, maybe you were never exactly "vulnerable" with each other, but it was good. You kept each other grounded. Even when times got hard, when his dad went to prison, when your parents nearly lost the house, you were the only people who could cheer the other up. The only ones who could make each other feel normal. And you never made a dig harder than the other person could take.

When you graduated high school and started going to the local junior college, he was so proud of you. Mostly, he was over the moon you were staying in Hawkins. He didn't say that directly, of course, but you knew. He showed his gratitude by teasing you for not getting out of town, and you teased him for being a super senior. And then, a super super senior.

It was nice. Normal. It was enough for you.

Lately, though, things have been different. You've been so busy with classes and work, and Eddie's been just as preoccupied with running his D&D campaign, and finally snatching up his high school diploma (and apparently, saving the world). You haven't been calling or hanging out like you used to. You've both been weirdly distant. Especially you.

What's even weirder, is on the occasions you do hang out, he's almost... nice to you. Not lobbing insults as fast, not so quick to poke fun at you for stumbling over a word. Maybe it's the fact that he almost died, or that you're both getting older, or... maybe he just doesn't feel as close to you anymore. But you can't get mad at him for being nice. You're definitely not freaking out about it.

And most importantly, you're not freaking out because all the weirdness made you realize you've been in love with him for years.

Nope, not freaking out at all.

But you push those swirling thoughts out of your mind. Your feelings towards your best friends aren't important right now, because today is an important day. Eddie's and your absolute favorite day of the year- the Hellfire Alumni party. An annual tradition that started after the first graduating class of Hellfire club crashed a meeting with enough booze to tranquilize an elephant.

This is the day that every current and former club member can gather together, come home from college, from new cities and new lives to play a crazy, elaborate one-shot (then throw a crazy, elaborate party). This is the event of the year for the nerds, freaks, and outcasts of Hawkins.

And this year, with your parents serendipitously out of town for the week, it's your turn to play host.

You have a solid hour before everyone is set to arrive. The game would be ending soon, but you left early to set up. As per tradition, the afterparty's host was "tragically and without any coincidence at all" sent off on a side quest early in the game to allow for plenty of time to prep for guests.

You flit from living room, to kitchen, to back porch, affixing cheesy homemade D&D decor to the walls, setting up string lights and seats, laying out snacks on the tables, and making sure coolers are stocked and readily available. There's still so much to do if you want this party up to your impeccable standards. This might be too much for one person, and you curse yourself for being too stubborn to ask for an extra set of hands. With how much effort you were putting into the party, you haven't even had time to change out of your Hellfire shirt.

The one you helped Eddie design.

You pause your fussing on the streamer you're hanging up as soon as he crosses your mind.

You'd managed to avoid him completely at the meeting, having shown up late and left early. He was just making you... nervous. Ever since his near death experience in the Upside Down, and how nice he's treating you now, you just can't push down your emotions. Any time he's close to you, you can physically feel the words "I Like You, You Idiot" being pulled from your throat.

And god, it's so hard when he just looks so Goddamn good. Jesus, it's like you can't even control yourself around him anymore. Any time he laughs, or touches your arm, or stretches to reveal a sliver of skin riding above his jeans, the urge to jump him is nearly untamable. That stretch of skin lives in your head rent free, and you start to picture the fabric lifting up and off his body, imagining him in front of you bare and soft and so warm-

Fuck fuck fuck, you need to get it together. You can never let him know he's affecting you like this, or it's bye-bye best friendship and hello awkwardly bumping into each other at the supermarket until one of you moves away.

You've decided it's much better to just push him away until you get a handle on your feelings. Keep him at arm's length. That always works, right?

Luckily, you don't have too much time to dwell. The sound of the front door slamming open returns you to reality.

Right, you're on a step-ladder, hanging streamers. Don't fall off and break your neck because you can't stop thinking about how in love you are with your best friend. How embarrassing would that be?

"I'm coming in! Oh my god- it looks like a middle school dance in here," a deep voice calls from your front corridor.

Of fucking course. Who else would show up at the worst possible time?

"Well, speak of the devil," you call back over your shoulder, ignoring his jab about your awesome decorations and trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Jesus, don't call me that," Eddie's voice appears right behind you this time. You hurry yourself to look busy with the crepe paper you're hanging. Nothing's amiss, you're not avoiding him, nobody has a crush on their best friend. Keep it cool.

"Right, I forgot about the whole 'Eddie-Munson-is-Satan-Reincarnate' thing," you turn over your shoulder to flash a shit-eating grin and feel it falter momentarily. You whip back around quickly, hoping he didn't catch sight of your panic.

Fuck, he looks so good right now. Pale cheeks tinged pink from the excitement of the evening, Hellfire shirt stretched tight across his chest, his hair pulled back into a scraggly low bun with curly tendrils framing his face, neck extended upwards to look at you on the ladder, and God wouldn't it be so easy to reach out and just bite it-

"Wish everyone else could forget," he mumbles.

Right, touchy subject. Roll it back. You want to push him away gently, not to remind him of his recent trauma. Thankfully the feds had spun some story and greased plenty of palms to clear Eddie's name. Legally, he was free and clear, but the town is much slower to forget.

"Well, thank God for government hush money," you offer, glancing back with a smirk.

He chuckles lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

An awkward silence settles over the room. Why is he so quiet right now? It's not something you're used to with him. The silence makes your skin feel too tight, your face feel too hot. You feel exposed under his gaze, like an animal cornered.

It's been a while since you've been alone with him, and you can practically see his unasked question hanging in the air between you- are you avoiding me?

You really, really don't want to explain the answer to that question.

He moves forward slightly, his full lips parting around the beginning of your name, so you do the logical thing. You interrupt before he can say anything.

"Is the game over? I thought I had more time," you return to the red streamer billowing loosely above your head. You may have only interrupted Eddie to prevent him from questioning you, but your statement is true. There's plenty left to accomplish before your guests arrive, and you expected more time to complete everything.

Eddie readjusts himself, retreating from whatever he was about to say.

"Nah," he tilts his head, "I had Henderson take over. Wanted to help you set up."

This throws you for a loop. You carefully turn yourself around on the stepladder to face him.

"You, Edward James Munson, left the campaign you've been planning for the past three months to help me... hang streamers?"

That's entirely unexpected. Thoughtful. Sweet, even? Some unwelcome part of you swells at the mental image of Eddie leaving the drama room early, keys in hand, eager to see you. Telling everyone Sorry guys, go on without me, gotta help my girl set up the party!

God, he makes you sick.

"Yeah, figured you'd fuck it up," he says, grabbing an extra roll of streamers off the couch and lobbing them at you. "Couldn't let that happen, could I?"

You catch the roll against your stomach with an unattractive grunt, and the misty vision of Eddie calling you his girl fades away. Right, back to being rude. Good. That's good. Less confusing.

"Asshole," you mutter amicably.

"Only for you," he smiles. You feel your heart tug in your chest, so you throw the streamers at his head. He ducks it with a boyish laugh.

You point out all the tasks that still need attending to, and Eddie makes himself surprisingly useful. Almost everything was finished prior to his arrival, but you'd be lying if you said that his help was unwelcome.

He clears off the couch and finishes laying out all the snacks, and you deal with this fucking streamer that just won't stay up, God damnit.

You both work in silence for several minutes, Eddie moving from room to room just like you did before he arrived. Hopefully with all the prepping, he doesn't have a chance to grill you, and you don't have a chance to slip up and confess anything.

Perfect. Having a task will keep you from utterly embarrassing yourself.

Speaking of your task, this streamer is the worst piece of paper you've ever encountered in your life. This is your White Whale, your Mount Everest. The bright tail of it flutters in your face mockingly, refusing to be affixed to the corner of the room. You wipe a bead of sweat off your temple and clench your jaw on the thumbtack pinched between your teeth, refusing to let this goddamned children's decoration get the best of you.

Somewhere in your periphery, you sense Eddie finish what he was doing and come to a rest leaning against the doorframe. The tiny hairs on your neck raise from the feeling of his eyes on your back.

You're fighting for your life over here, and Eddie is just... holy shit, he's laughing at your very serious, momentous struggle with the streamers!

Whatever, just focus, you think, trying to ignore how shaky his gaze makes your hands, how his laugh makes your stomach flutter, This streamer is imperative to the party's well being.

The corner of the wall is just barely out of your reach, but you refuse to readjust the stepladder again. That's basically admitting defeat. Maybe if you just- just lean over completely to the right, keeping one hand on the ladder for support? Yes! If you fully extend that should work- one arm completely outstretched with the streamer in hand, the ladder squeaks ominously underneath your feet, but you ignore that, you've nearly got it-

The ladder starts to keel over, threatening to send you with it.

Your best friend peels himself off the wall, crossing the room swiftly. He steadies the ladder with both hands, putting its legs firmly back on the floor before you can topple over. His arms bracket you in, and you return to an upright position. Ok, maybe that wasn't the smartest idea you've ever had.

He shakes his head, exasperated.

"Here, Jesus, you're gonna hurt yourself, sweetheart."

Before you have a chance to process sweetheart, Eddie climbs the ladder behind you. He doesn't even tell you to get down first, he simply steps onto the rung underneath the one you perch on. The smell of him envelopes you, the faint scent of cigarettes and weed, of drug store cologne and no-tears apple shampoo. You can feel the heat from his body against your own, pressed behind you, and it's all too much. This is too domestic of him. He's rendered you completely dumb.

His hands snake around your front to pluck the offending decoration from your viselike grip. One strong, ring-clad hand grips your right shoulder for balance. His chest flexes against your back as he leans over with minimal effort to hold the end of the streamer against the wall.

Was it this hot in here before? It feels really hot in here all of a sudden.

"Ok, now give me..." He says absentmindedly, reaching towards your lips with his other hand to pluck the thumbtack from your mouth. Your brain short circuits at the feeling of his calloused fingers brushing your parted lips. It sends an embarrassing bolt of warmth through your stomach, and if he hadn't been basically holding you up, you would have fallen off the stepladder.

"And- got it!" Eddie stabs the thumbtack through the end of the streamer with a victorious flourish of his hand. He leans back in and rights himself behind you, moving his palms to grip your waist for balance.

Fuck. Fuck. He's too close. His hands feel way too good on your sides. He's holding you close, back to chest, and you're sure he can feel your heartbeat thumping wildly out of your ribcage.

This is not good for your "pushing him away" plan. This is, in fact, the exact opposite of pushing someone away.

Eddie slinks back down the ladder, his hands sliding gently down your sides, his breath ghosting down your back as he descends. You can feel your pulse in your teeth. 

And of course, when you shakily turn around, he's offering his hand to help you get down like a total gentleman. Because of course he's doing that right now.

Stupid fucking chivalrous, crazy-hot Eddie Munson.

You need to put a stop to this. Stop letting him be nice to you before you ruin everything (and make sure he doesn't know you were ridiculously turned on by all that).

"Ok, you're being weird," you say, ignoring his outstretched hand. You step off the ladder without his help, and shove the last of the streamer roll against his chest. That puts a healthy amount of space between the two of you, and you can finally breathe again.

"I'm being weird?"

"Yes."

"I'm being weird?"

"Yes," you repeat, purposefully ignoring how he emphasizes the first word.

He pauses. You're not letting this go.

"Weirder than normal?" a lopsided smile appears on his face. You fight the urge to smile back. He's trying to joke it off, but you have to stay strong, set some boundaries. Cool the situation down before you do something you'll both regret.

"I'm serious," you cross your arms against your chest. If anyone asked you'd say they're crossed in annoyance, but it feels more like protecting your vital organs.

"Ok, I'll bite. How am I being weird?"

"You left the game early for me," you list off on your fingers, "You're helping me decorate. You haven't said one thing yet that makes me want to punch you!"

"So?" he drags a hand across his face.

"So! So, you're being... nice to me."

That sentence hangs in the air for what feels like an eternity. Yes, he's definitely the problem. Nice is definitely the problem. If he would just stop being nice, no more being in love with him! Problem solved.

An imperceptible emotion flashes across his eyes, but he recovers before you can name it.

"Aww," he coos mockingly, "I'm always nice to you, princess."

"Fuck off," you shove his shoulder gently. You hate that nickname, and he knows it. He gifted it to you in detention the day you met, with half a twinkie held out like a peace offering in his hand. You punch like a little princess, he told you, and it stuck. You hate it, and it helps to ground you further, having a taste of your normal back and forth.

You realize you haven't taken your hand off his shoulder. Withdrawing it quickly, you put another few inches of space between you, the back of your knees knocking into the stepladder.

"We're not nice to each other, Munson. Be mean to me."

"You want me," his head tilts curiously, "to be mean to you?"

"Yes!" you rapidly exclaim, much louder than you intended. He takes an unsteady step back at your outburst.

"... Ok?"

"Thank you," you breathe.

The two of you stand silent like that for a long time, you still cowering against the ladder, him still cradling the streamers to his chest, unspoken words hanging thick in the air.

Eddie swallows loudly. You feel like he's about to say something, and if he keeps looking at you with his stupid beautiful doe eyes you're either going to kick him out or tear his clothes off.

This time when you hear the front door swing open, you're desperately grateful for whomever is barging into your house unannounced.

Walking single file into the living room is the newest group of Eddie's friends/World saving partners- Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan. You thank God for the group's intrusion. Like, for real, you might give each and every one of them a kiss for rescuing you.

Steve is the first to spot the pair of you.

"Hey, Munsonnnnnn! Woah," Steve looks around, squinting as his eyes adjust to the room's sparkly adornments, "it looks like prom in here."

Eddie's back is to him, and he makes one more attempt at eye contact with you before turning to greet the newcomers. You avoid his gaze.

"Hey, pretty boy!" Eddie turns on his heels, shaking off the awkward fog between you and slipping back into his cool-guy persona, "Glad you could grace us lowly freaks with your presence!"

The pair meet in the middle of the room and do an awkward half handshake/half man-hug.

"Well, no idea how to play yD&D , but I do know how to party," Steve says, raising a six-pack high in the air.

You exchange quick hellos with Jonathan and Nancy. Robin waves at you before scanning her eyes around the room. Her expression drops when she realizes no one else has arrived.

"We're early? Oh my god, we're early! That is so lame," Robin grumbles, kicking Steve lightly in the ankle.

The group bickers and laughs, blissfully unaware of the strained tension between you and your best friend. Unaware of how, if you had taken Eddie's hand when he offered it earlier, you would have pulled him into you and kissed him right there.

You mumble something about needing to go get changed, slipping past the group and rocketing up the stairs. The boisterous conversation fades behind you, and you exhale a sigh of relief.

It's only one night. You can handle yourself for that long.

"Where's Henderson?" you faintly hear Steve ask.

This is exactly what you needed. All your fussing over the decor might have seemed ridiculous at the time, but looking out over the living room, at all your friends enjoying themselves under the fairy lights and streamers fills your heart to the brim.

You play the gracious host, grabbing everyone new drinks, directing your friends towards the bathroom, keeping the music going and the people happy. There's a lot more people than you expected, but it's a perfect scenario for you- with all this party tending, you have no time for Eddie to catch you alone.

Several hours in, with a light buzz going, you find yourself trapped on the couch, being regaled with the epic tale of how the campaign went down after your departure.

A very long, extremely thorough tale.

"- and then I rolled two nat 20s in a row," Mike informs you, absolutely beaming, "I swear, I was on fire tonight!"

"Mmmhmm," you mumble for the hundredth time in the past 15 minutes, head leaning on your fist. You definitely need more beer if you're going to indulge them in this much longer.

Dustin shoves his friend in the shoulder.

"Pants on fire, maybe," Dustin turns to you self-righteously, "It wasn't an honest roll. He totally bumped the table."

"Did not!" Mike scoffs.

"Uh, did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

The pair continues their back and forth for an embarrassingly long time. If this is the future of Hellfire, God help you all.

"Boys!" your eyes snap upwards when you hear Eddie's voice enter the circle, "Boys, boys, boys. Let's stop trying to look cool in front of the lady, shall we?"

Eddie towers over them, his features lit softly by the fairy lights above him. Donning what he believes is a menacing look, he takes on the role of the ever-annoyed parent. The boys turn to him and plead their argument, talking over each other, growing increasingly louder and more frantic. He silences them after a few moments with a dismissive wave of his arm.

"No one cares, kiddos," He tuts. They pout as he continues, gesturing to you with the cup in his hand, "And what do we say for dick-measuring in front of the nice lady?"

"Sorry," both the boys mumble to you at Eddie's behest.

Eddie shoos Mike from his spot on the couch next to you, encouraging him to find his little girlfriend. He plops down ceremoniously, two red solo cups in hand. He positioned himself close, his ripped denim-covered thigh brushing your own. The drag of his leg against yours is so intoxicating, it's hard to remember why being this close to him is a bad idea.

"Both those drinks for you, Munson? That's excessive," you tease.

"Yup," he pops the word theatrically, and brings both the cups to his mouth at the same time. He sips them both goofily and inefficiently, a dribble of cheap beer trickling from one of the cups down his smooth chin.

You pursue the drop with your eyes, and imagine following the trail with your tongue, licking a lazy stripe from his jaw up to his open mouth. You nearly have to stifle a moan picturing what it would taste like- the amber liquid mixing with clean skin and spit.

"You're an animal," you mutter, feigning disgust at his antics.

He growls playfully at you. The noise would have been weird and cringey if it didn't make you throb involuntarily between your legs. It takes all the strength you can muster to roll your eyes.

"Actually sweetheart," he wipes his mouth with the back of his tattooed forearm and passes you one of the cups, "I grabbed this one for you."

Almost in a trance, you grab the beer from him and hold it close to you. You should be making a snarky remark about not wanting to drink his backwash. But once again, the smallest morsel of affection he throws your way leaves you vulnerable and speechless.

Why is it such a bad idea again to give him a thank-you kiss on the cheek, to snuggle into his side, to praise him profusely for thinking of you?

Because, the rational part of your brain reminds you, you're going to ruin your friendship, stupid.

Right. That.

You shrug off your lovesick daze and level Eddie with an indignant look. Not wanting to rehash your previous conversation in the middle of the party, you reiterate your point silently.

What did I just say about being nice to me? you raise an eyebrow at Eddie.

He stares back, then looks off quickly, giving in to your silent demand.

Right, sorry, He throws his hands up in surrender, Won't happen again.

A derisive snort erupts from the boy on the floor across from you. Right, Henderson. You'd forgotten he was there. And unfortunately, he'd been watching the entire non-verbal exchange with your best friend. He's also annoyingly perceptive.

"Booooo," Dustin cups his hands around his mouth, "Get a room, lovebirds."

You feel your cheeks heat up, and Eddie scoffs.

"I can hardly stand being in a room with you now," he throws cheekily at you.

You breathe a sigh of relief. This is... good. This is safe ground, familiar ground. You honestly aren't sure how you'd react if he was nice to you again.

"I'd leave right now if this wasn't my house," you hide a smile on the edge of your solo cup.

Now it's Dustin's turn to scoff.

"Oh please, Eddie, you never shut up about her! It's getting really annoying. You two should do us all a favor and just do it already-"

Eddie sets his drink down and moves so quickly to put Dustin in a headlock, the kid doesn't even have a chance to react.

They wrestle childishly for a minute or two, rolling around carelessly, knocking into people and furniture alike. You watch on in fake annoyance, only interjecting to berate them for bumping into your parents favorite lamp.

Eddie releases Dustin with a huff, having successfully pinned the freshman, and throws his hands over his head victoriously.

"Congrats, Eds. You physically dominated a twelve year old. We're all so proud."

Dustin sputters incredulously, something along the lines of I'm fifteen, actually.

You giggle at that, and Eddie settles back into your side. This time, much to your displeasure and excitement, he throws his arm around your shoulders. He's touchy in general, and for all your catfighting, you're no stranger to being tucked into his side like this. But today, with your light buzz and fuzzy emotions, it feels more intimate. More dangerous.

His fingers trace absentminded circles on your upper arm, and you shudder lightly at his touch. You should throw his arm off of you, but can't bring yourself to. Not when it feels so right.

Dustin picks himself up off the floor and dusts himself off with a huff.

"Eddie's just mad because he knows I'm right. There's too much sexual tension," he says, his bruised ego shining through. Damn, that kid always sounds like such a know-it-all. It's just his tone.

Your best friend leans in close, his lips lightly brushing the shell of your ear, and your breath involuntarily catches in your throat.

"Not even in your wildest dreams, sweetheart," he whispers loudly, then leans back with a toothy grin.

You curse the way your stomach drops at his statement. His mixed signals are driving you crazy. He still has his arm wrapped around you, but he basically just rejected you, basically said he would never even think about you in that way.

But this, this is normal, isn't it? Exactly what you asked for? This is how you guys are, he's an asshole to you, you're an asshole to him, why should your feelings be hurt, you never let it hurt, you won't let yourself get hurt.

The boys wander to a different topic, something about how lame the graduation ceremony was this year, completely oblivious to the internal riot happening in your head.

Not even in your wildest dreams, sweetheart. What the fuck did he mean by that? It's not like you were banging down his door or anything, you never even thought- I mean, yeah, fuck, ok maybe you thought about fucking him all the time, any way he would have you, but it's not like he knows that, and God did he have to say it like you were so fucking unappealing, like even the thought of being with you was some big fucking joke-

You shake your head violently, willing the physical action to clear your mind. Like an etch-a-sketch, you think blearily.

Yeah, you're definitely done with alcohol for the night.

Eddie's eyes drift back over to you at the sudden movement. His dimples fade away, the lazily content look on his face morphing into one of genuine concern.

"Hey, you ok?" he asks so earnestly it makes hot tears prickle behind your eyes.

Now he's being too nice again, and you can't handle it. It's just all too fucking confusing, his arm around your shoulder suddenly feels too restricting, too mocking.

Jesus, you need to get yourself together before you respond. The phrase I'm fine dies on the tip of your tongue. Ok, just don't say anything revealing, don't say anything at all actually, just don't say anything-

"Am I really that repulsive?" you spit, not meaning to let so much vitriol drip into your words. The plastic cup creaks in your hand, and you release the tension in your fist. You didn't even realize you'd been squeezing it so hard. Fuck, chill out, you're both just kidding around, he didn't mean to poke the one raw nerve you've been hiding from him.

Confusion flashes across his face. You never react like this to his teasing.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Munson, you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."

The party is still going strong, but you swear the whole world goes silent in that moment. Maybe it's all the blood rushing to your ears, or the lack of a standard sarcastic reply from your friend.

You must have said that much louder than you intended, because now everyone in the living room is trying very hard to pretend they're not listening to your conversation.

Your mind flashes back to that moment in third grade, right after Eddie hit the ground. That achingly long, silent moment after you'd knocked him down, when you were waiting for him to say something, anything, and then he started laughing.

C'mon, start laughing.

But this wasn't a childish squabble. There was venom in your words, a tidal wave of repressed emotions and raw anger and lust and hurt, feelings you didn't even have the words for- and Eddie felt it.

His face blushes a deep scarlet, and his arm retracts from your shoulder like it had burned him. You’re itching to pull him back in, to take it back, to apologize, to explain that you were just kidding, but you're frozen.

"'M gonna get some air," He stands up swiftly, not making eye contact with you.

"Eds, wait-" You reach out for him, trying to grab his arm. He slips easily from your grasp and shoves his way through the mass of partygoers, disappearing into the hallway.

Well, that could have gone better.

"Shit," you mutter, slumping back into the couch. This is exactly why you'd been avoiding him in the first place- so you wouldn't stick your foot in your mouth.

When you glance up from your wound-licking, everyone's eyes dart away from you, avoiding your gaze.

Real nice, guys.

Dustin must feel guilty for instigating your outburst, because he stands up from his spot on the floor and takes point on damage control.

"Alright, show's over everyone. Go get another drink or something," he announces to the room, waving everyone away. He plops down on the couch and awkwardly puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Sorry about them. We're just not used to Mom and Dad fighting,"

You laugh bitterly at the epithet the freshmen class had dubbed you. While it normally makes you secretly giddy to hear the kids refer to you and Eddie as such, you're not ready to give up on wallowing in your own self-pity.

"We fight literally all the time."

"No, you don't," he says matter-of-factly, "You never really get mad at Eddie. And I can't even imagine him being mad at you. What you actually do," he pauses, "is convoluted flirting."

You let out a groan. Is it really that obvious to everyone how you feel about him? You must not have been hiding it as well as you thought. That's so humiliating. And if everyone knows... that means Eddie must know too. Despite what you just yelled at him, he's not a stupid guy.

He must have figured it out. No wonder he's been so weird to you the last few months. It must be what... pity?

Oh my God. He's been so nice lately because he feels bad for you.

That's almost worse than him not liking you back.

"Christ, Henderson," you try denying, a transparent last ditch effort to cover up your feelings, "you have no idea what you're talking-"

"Are you dicking me around? You're fully dicking me around right now," he states incredulously, "You. Are. Into him."

Denial isn't going to work on the kid. He's too goddamn observant for that.

Hearing your feelings out loud like that, even if it isn't you saying it, sends a shot of anxiety through your stomach. Normally you'd dissent and evade the topic, but that hasn't exactly been working out for you tonight. And if everyone knows already, fuck it. 

You decide to give honesty a try.

"It doesn't matter, ok? Eddie doesn't... see me like that," you concede.

"Have you ever, I don't know, asked him?" He questions, his voice tipping right on the edge of condescending.

"... No."

Dustin pats your arm sympathetically, as if he's soothing a petulant child rather than someone five years older than him.

"Well, that seems like the place to start."

Still pouting, you shake your head.

"Why would I do that, Dustin? Just for him to reject me? It'll ruin what we have," you sulk and look down at your hands. The whole incident with Eddie sobered you up immediately, making the foamy cup of beer you're clutching look extremely appealing right about now. Moving the cup to your lips, you start to gulp it down. Dustin, clearly fed up with your self-indulgent wallowing, stands up and snatches the cup away from you.

"Hey!"

He holds the cup out of your clawing reach, and speaks at you loudly, in that sanctimonious tone he uses when he thinks he knows better than someone.

"You may be too stubborn to see it, but you're both so into each other it makes me sick!"

You're not even listening to him anymore. You're so frustrated at how this conversation is going, with how your whole night is going. Jesus Christ this kid is a total fucking headache! First he causes your fight with Eddie, then he totally embarrasses you by making you admit your crush, and now he's snatching shit from you? All of the misdirected irritation you've felt building since earlier balls up in your stomach, threatening to break out. Malicious words start to form in your mouth, preparing to absolutely rip him a new one. What a self righteous little-

Pause.

His sentence finally registers in your brain.

Both? You're both so into each other?

All the anger you felt dissipates in a split second. Both. Meaning, you and Eddie. Feeling the same way.

No, there's no way. It had to be a figure of speech, or a slip of the tongue. The part of you desperate to protect yourself retains there's no way that's what Dustin meant, but a cautiously hopeful warmth spreads through your chest all the same.

"He- when you say both- do you mean he also..."

Dustin cuts you off with an exasperated sigh of your name.

"Just go talk to him."

You've been doing laps around your house for nearly twenty minutes in search of your best friend. Everyone is 100% annoyed with you by now. You'd asked all your friends at least twice if they'd seen him, and only got back half-hearted shrugs and variations on "I don't know, we thought he was with you."

He has to still be here. His shoes are still by the door, and Gareth assured you that Eddie's van is still parked outside.

He wasn't on the back porch with the smokers, or in the kitchen, or in the basement with the other type of smokers. You tried checking your bedroom, but the door was locked, and from the outside you could hear multiple voices making some very emphatic sounds. Mental note- bleach literally everything in your room tomorrow.

Wouldn't it be a real cosmic gut-punch if that was Eddie in there with someone? a jealous voice in your head croons. You roughly push the thought down.

The only place left to check is the upstairs bathroom. When you reach the door you notice the light is on inside, yellow light leaking from the doorframe.

You move your hand up to knock, and waver momentarily. Your hand is still poised to rap on the door. Maybe it's not Eddie in there, you consider. Maybe it's just someone who had a few too many, and you're about to bother some poor soul hugging the toilet bowl.

Yeah, that's perfect. It won't be him. He definitely just left his van behind, walked home without shoes, and you can both take the night to cool off. You won't have to confess anything tonight. You'll call him tomorrow, apologize for being a dick, and pray he doesn't hang up on you. Everything will go back to normal.

Clinging to your false hope, you tentatively knock on the door.

"Ocupado," a muffled voice bleeds from the other side of the door.

Eddie.

Of course. You wouldn't be that lucky.

You steel yourself for whatever lies ahead, and turn the knob. Part of you prays it won't open, that he miraculously shed his bad habit of forgetting to lock bathroom doors. But the knob rotates without resistance.

No going back now. You swing the door open and shut it behind you swiftly. The sounds of music and laughter muffles abruptly as the door closes. Sitting hunched over on the edge of the tub is your best friend, his head sheltered in his hands.

"Holy shit, occupied!" He raises his head to rail at the intruder, "What part of- oh," he cuts himself off abruptly when his eyes land on you.

He stares at you intently, his jaw ticking from how hard he's clenching it. Both of you are waiting for the other to speak, neither one wanting to break the silence first. You squirm under his piercing gaze and lower your head to peer at the floor.

"The, uh, door was open," you mumble after a while.

"Jesus Christ, what if I was taking a shit or something?" he hisses.

Normally you'd wrinkle up your nose and call him gross, or admonish him for not locking the door, but you don't have the energy for that right now. You lean back against the door for support and cross your arms over your chest. He still refuses to break eye contact with you.

"... Sorry."

More silence.

"Well?" he asks pointedly. He looks pissed, more pissed than you've ever seen him, "What's so fucking important that you had to bust in here?"

His tone reignites the swell of anger in your stomach. Normally he's the funny kind of asshole, but right now he sounds like a total prick. You can't believe you were really coming in here to apologize and confess your feelings to him.

"I'll just go," you snap. You turn around to leave, gripping the door knob tightly, "This was a mistake."

You barely manage to crack the door open before Eddie appears behind you, reaching over your shoulder to close it firmly. He's boxing you against the door, his breath fanning over your neck. Against your better judgment, you register a dull throb between your legs at the position he has you in.

He reaches down to lock the door this time, still caging you in, a silent demand that you don't run away from this conversation. You swallow audibly.

He's not going to let you avoid him any longer.

Eddie lingers behind you a moment before retreating again, allowing you space to turn around and face him. His brown eyes, normally soft and jovial, are squinted in irritation. His broad shoulders shake lightly, with hurt or anger you can't be sure.

You take a deep breath and prepare to apologize for earlier, but he cuts you off before you even begin.

"What the hell is your problem tonight?"

He raises his eyebrow at you, impatiently waiting for your response.

Lie, the cowardly voice in your head says. Dustin was just jerking you around, you're going to ruin everything. Lie lie lie, you can't let him know how you really feel.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you say coolly.

"Really?" he crosses his arms and pouts, mocking your closed off stance.

"I don't-"

Eddie cuts you off before you can double down.

"I'm nice to you, and you tell me to fuck off. I'm mean, and you lose your shit. I'm walking on goddamn eggshells over here, so pick one, because you can't have both."

He finishes his monologue, his breath coming out in short puffs.

Oh my God, you think, I must seem literally crazy right now.

It sucks to have your own behavior laid out so plainly like this, to be confronted with how your actions are hurting him.

You can't even get defensive, because the worst part is, he's right. You were mad at him for sending mixed signals, but you're the one who's been avoiding him for weeks and embarrassing him in the middle of a party. And now you're flipflopping so fast he can't even keep up.

In all your self-absorbed uncertainty, you never stopped to consider how confusing you must be to him right now.

You don't answer him fast enough.

"Just tell me what you want from me!" he begs.

"I just- I want-" you start and stop several different sentences, but can't find the end of any of them. You sigh raggedly and tilt your head up towards the ceiling, harshly blinking against the frustrated tears beginning to bead up in your eyes.

You can feel him inching closer to you. When he speaks, his voice comes out gentle, low, almost... hurt?

"Do you want me to be nice to you or not?" he implores, "I'll be mean if you want mean. Whatever you want, sweetheart, I'll do it. You just have to tell me."

"I... Both. Neither?"

He huffs at that, rolling his eyes to stare up at the ceiling.

You think you're confused, buddy? Try living inside my brain.

He's not getting anywhere with this line of questioning. He tries approaching from a different angle this time.

"You've been avoiding me," he states. It's not a question.

"... Yeah." you admit carefully.

He purses his mouth tight and nods. You'd only confirmed what he already knew, what you'd both been dancing around all night.

"Did I do something wrong?"

No, you shake your head tearfully.

"Do you want me to," he sighs, "give you some space, or whatever?"

"No!" you exclaim. The thought makes you panic, a single teardrop finally spilling over your lash line, "Fuck, God no, that's not- I mean, I thought I did but- that's not what this is about."

Eddie's curses under his breath, growing tired of playing twenty questions.

"Then what is it about?"

"I-" like you, you idiot, "It's just.. I can't- God! Fuck, I can't!" you groan dramatically and bury your head in your hands.

Why is it so hard to just say Munson, I want you? It's just Eddie. Drug-dealing, music-snobby, ridiculous, overdramatic, forgetful... 

Caring, funny, thoughtful, loyal, beautiful Eddie Munson who you don't want to lose forever all because you have a stupid crush on him.

He crosses the chasm between you hesitantly. Grabbing both your wrists, he removes them from your face, replacing them with his own. He cradles your face tenderly, like you could shatter under the weight of his hands, and uses a thumb to swipe away the tear on your cheek.

He breathes your name gently, and you glance up at him through your lashes.

"Please, just... tell me what you want," he whispers. His face is so close to yours, every freckle and hair visible in perfect clarity. His eyes dart around your face intently for an answer.

What do you want? He wants you to choose what you want?

Fuck this, you choose. You choose fuck this- fuck how beautiful he looks right now, fuck how him touching you like this makes your heart flutter, fuck how badly you wish you could drop all the stupid pretense and tell him that I need you to be mean to me because otherwise, I'm gonna admit I like you!

"I like you," you blurt.

Fuck.

Eddie's eyebrows shoot up at your declaration. His hands fall from your face as he backs up a bit, and you want to scream. You actually might scream, he looks so freaked out.

"You... like me?"

Fuck.

"Yes," you repeat. You're fighting to seem confident, like that will quell the pit of fear in your stomach, will lessen the wave of humiliation threatening to drown you. His eyes open impossibly wider, an indiscernible expression on his face.

You backtrack quickly, "No. No! I'm so sorry, of course not! You know what? I take it back. I didn't mean it, I was just kidding! Just please, please forget I ever said anything, ok?"

He shakes his head and points a finger at you as you ramble.

"Nooooooo. You said," a mischievous smile spreads across his face, his voice sing-songy and teasing, "You like me. Like, like me like me. Like, you want me."

Of course he's letting this go to his head. You told him you like him and now he's laughing at you. The last thing you can handle right now is him making fun of you when you're at your most vulnerable.

"Well, if you're gonna be a fucking dick about it-" you shoot your hand out once more to reach for the door. Eddie blows out a sharp breath and pulls your arm towards him, maneuvering you to face him with your back pressed against the sink.

"Sorrysorrysorry, I’m sorry! Will you stop trying to run away from me? It's getting annoying," he says, not at all unkindly. He still has that wide smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in amusement.

Your face is still radiating heat. Your breath comes out in sharp pants. One of Eddie's hands moves to your hip, the other attempting to lift your chin upwards. You move your head out of his grasp.

He says your name again, vying for your attention.

"Would you just look at me," he jostles your hip playfully, "Please? You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

You shake your head at the ground. Now he's trying to cheer you up when you totally just ruined your friendship? This is so fucking humiliating, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

His head rolls completely around, face-framing curls flopping in his face. His whole body tilts to the side in a dramatic display. 

And in that moment, Eddie makes a decision- you just admitted something, and now it's his turn.

"Does it really make me look stupid?" he asks, tightening the grip on your hip, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him.

You finally raise your gaze to his.

"I- what?" you blink dumbly up at him.

He quickly drags you in even closer, until there’s no space between you at all. Your hands fly up for balance, landing squarely on his broad chest.

"You said earlier, it makes me look stupid," he swallows, "How badly I want to fuck you."

You must have passed out from sheer embarrassment. That’s the only explanation for what’s happening right now- you’d knocked yourself out in humiliation, and now you’re laying on the bathroom floor, dreaming. Because there’s no way Eddie actually just admitted to wanting you, no way he’s holding you this tightly against him, and no way he’s licking his lips as his eyes dart down to your mouth.

"What..." you repeat dazedly.

His head dips down at an aching crawl, like he’s giving you the chance to push him away.

"I thought it was kind of obvious,” he chuckles, “But I like you too, sweetheart. Always have,” a boyish, vulnerable smile flashes across his face.

Instantly a tidal wave of relief floods your body. Your sigh fans across his face, still so close to your own. You didn’t ruin anything. He likes you back. 

Eddie likes you.

“We can talk about what this means later,” he murmurs intimately, one thumb stroking your hip, “But right now I really need to kiss you, so just… tell me to stop."

You don’t stop him. His plush lips brush yours briefly, chastely. Tingles spark where his mouth presses to yours, and now you know it’s not a dream. None of your dreams have ever felt this electric.

When he goes to pull away, you don’t let him. You grasp his face with both hands and pull him hungrily into you, kissing him again- harder this time, more insistent. His mouth parts under the pressure, and he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip. You give him entrance immediately, and you both let out a soft moan at the feeling of his tongue massaging against yours.

It’s unreal- absolutely unreal how good he is at this. When you used to hang out alone, he would always divulge the details of his latest hookup- which cheerleader is actually freaky, which Corroded Coffin groupie cornered him at a venue. You would laugh when he proclaimed himself a sex god (of course, you’d also be secretly jealous of whichever girl he was hooking up with). But you never thought he was actually as good as he claimed, you thought he was exaggerating out of male-pride. Now you can't believe you’d wasted so much time not kissing your best friend.

A giggle rumbles up from your chest.

Oh my God, you think giddily, I’m kissing Eddie. My best friend Eddie.

He pulls away reluctantly with a final quick peck, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his.

“What?” he smirks down at you, with an expression that can only be described as adoration, “What’s got you all giggly, baby?” his hands brush comfortingly up and down your arm.

You snort again at the pet name, your heart swelling and your head lighter than air.

“You,” you ball up his shirt in your grasp and yank him back down to you, “Just you.”

He reattaches himself to your lips, resuming his worship of your mouth. Your arms slide up from his chest to clasp around the back of his neck, and you kiss him harder. One hand reaches up into the curly hair tied up behind his head, and gives an experimental tug. He rewards you with a short gasp. His tongue swipes against the roof of your mouth, almost like he’s trying to tickle you, and you giggle again. 

Kissing him is really, really hot. Ridiculously, leg shakingly, earth-shatteringly hot. 

It’s also full of silly moments. You’re both teasing and prodding at the other, trying to get the other to laugh into the kiss. But you’re also both gasping and panting, holding onto each other with all your strength, growing more and more turned on.

“You know what’s weird?” he says into your mouth.

“Hmm?”

“This doesn’t feel weird. Like, at all,” he squeezes your hips. You give his hair another gentle tug in response.

He’s right- even when you imagined what this moment could be like, there was always the underlying fear that it wouldn’t work, that you and Eddie together would be too awkward. But this is so you- so perfect.

You kiss like that for what feels like forever, taking time to explore each other. Eddie paws at whatever he can reach, the curve of your ass, the plush of your thighs, the divots of your spine.

As the kiss grows more and more heated, the silly teasing dies down. The hands wandering your body grow rougher, more frantically grabbing at you. Your underwear starts to dampen uncomfortably. Something hard and warm presses against your stomach. You’re aching to find out what.

He disconnects from you again, and you pout.

“Hop up for me?” he taps twice at your hip bone.

With his help, you brace yourself on the counter and haul yourself backwards to sit on the edge of the sink. 

“Good girl,” he praises, sharp canines flashing at you roguishly.

Your cheeks heat up at the endearment. Good girl. You’re his good girl. Fuck, that sounds so good coming out of his mouth. You cover your face with your hands and let out an embarrassed whine.

“Oh my God,” he snickers, “I so knew you’d be into that.”

“Shut up,” one hand shoots out to shove at his shoulder. He catches it and presses a mockingly apologetic smooch into your wrist. “Kiss me again.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Two ring-clad hands grip your legs and spread them wide, an open invitation for Eddie to stand between them. He accepts graciously. Now that he has better access, he tilts your head backwards and leans down to mouth at the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.

Eddie works up and down your throat, pressing bruising kisses into the sensitive skin there. Your hands wander his body as he works, shakily pushing hair from his face, grasping his taut biceps, clutching his ass.

“So good for me,” he mumbles.

You gasp when he sucks and nips one spot particularly roughly, then soothes it with his tongue. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you register that you’ll have crazy hickeys blooming tomorrow, bruises that everyone else will definitely tease you for. But you can’t bring yourself to care, not when Eddie decorated you with them so lovingly.

His hips slowly start to grind into yours, stuttering against your warm, still clothed center.

“Just let me know if you want to slow down,” his words say one thing, but the desperate way he ruts in between your parted thighs says another.

“I’m good,” You shake your head vigorously. You’re burning to keep going. You’ve waited so long to have him touch you, love you, worship you like he’s doing right now. You’re ready for whatever he’s willing to give you, “I wanna keep going. Please.”

“Fuck. Yeah, ok,” he stifles a groan at the desperation in your voice. Lithe fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt to splay against your stomach. His fingertips twirl intricate patterns on your skin, and you shiver at the temperature difference between his hands and the cool metal of his rings. 

With your permission he tugs your shirt upwards and over your head, tossing it on the floor behind him. Silently, you thank your earlier self for putting on your cute bra today.

“Is this ok?” he checks in with you, keeping his hands to himself with great difficulty. His eyes rake over you hungrily.

In answer, you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, tossing it over Eddie’s shoulder.

You lean back on your palms, pushing your chest out as confidently as you can. His eyes bug out of his head the moment you’re half naked, and it’s a shot straight to your ego.

“Holy shit, babe,” he reaches out greedily to grasp at your chest, palming both, pushing them together and then letting them drop into his hands, “Did you know you’re really fuckin’ hot?” he tweaks both nipples in his hands, grinning as they perk up under his touch.

You squirm under his praise.

“Oh, you’re shy again, huh?” he smirks, and dips down to catch the peak of your breast in his mouth. One hand flies shakily to his hair as he nuzzles at you, cradling him tightly to your sternum.

He pulls away from you with a pop, then switches to the other side. His tongue slides over your nipple lasciviously, the tantalizingly wet sound of spit on skin reaches your ears. A soft moan leaves him as he rolls the sensitive bud between his lips. 

The gentle scrape of his teeth is what breaks you.

“Fuck, Eds,” a sound embarrassingly close to a whine escapes your throat.

“Shit, baby, you sound even better than I imagined,” he mumbles against the skin of your chest.

You feel an impossible amount of wetness spreading between your thighs at his admission. He’s thought about this- the mental image of Eddie alone in his trailer, hand palming his cock roughly, getting himself off to the imagined sounds of you moaning- it’s almost too much for you to handle.

“You imagined this?” you ask breathlessly.

He looks up and scoffs, making a face that says, are you kidding me?

“Only every night since I hit puberty,” he ducks back down to suck a mark into your collar bone.

Your head is spinning. Eddie’s lips are on you, his hard cock is nuzzled against your thigh, his soft pants and curses are all because he’s touching you. This all feels unreal, and you’re desperate for more of his skin to be exposed to you.

“Your turn?” you hum, tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

He disconnects from your skin with a pop and grins wolfishly at you. He reaches behind his head and pulls off his t-shirt in one fluid motion, turning at the waist to toss it into the steadily growing pile of discarded clothes.

You should be focusing on his pale taut chest, the curve of his collarbone, his bare arms flexing underneath his tattoos, the sparse trail of hair on his stomach disappearing into the waistband of his boxers- but you can’t.

Your eyes fall to his ribs immediately, to the crisscross of bite marks and scar tissue lacing his sides. You knew he’d been injured saving the world, but you’d never seen how bad it was.

He rushes back into you, eager to reattach his lips to your skin, but you hold him at arm's length. You can’t take your eyes off his healed wounds.

You must look as concerned as you feel, because he's quick to brush you off.

"It looks worse than it is," he tells you humbly, grabbing one of your wrists and pressing it to his side, inviting you to gently brush against the battle-marred skin.

Fuck, it's so easy to forget how close you were to losing him. How he could've been gone, and you wouldn't have had the chance to tell him how you really feel. The last thing you said to him would have been some dumb, meaningless quip. The thought makes you lightheaded, your breath coming in short puffs.

"Hey," he lowers his head to your level, purposefully holding eye contact with you, "I'm okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise."

You nod erratically, pressing your hands more firmly into his sides. His heart beat flutters through his ribs against your palms. Steady. A bit elevated. 

Perseverant.

"Yeah, I know. I know, I was just thinking," you clear your throat against a voice crack, "That you look pretty metal."

“Yeah?” his face splits into a wide grin.

“Yeah. Metal as hell, Munson,” you lovingly caress the wounds on his side once more.

He pulls you into a heartbreaking kiss. Not as lustful as earlier, softer, yet more insistent. Full of heart and hope and love, and the unmistakable feeling of being alive.

The kiss quickly grows deeper and more desperate, his tongue dragging headily against the roof of your mouth. Your back arches into him when he bites at your lower lip. You both pant into each other's mouths, the press of your nipples against his chest sending shivers down your spine.

Your mouth reaches for his neck, and you mimic his earlier ministrations on you- licking a long wet stripe up his neck, suckling bruises into the hot spot right below his blushed ear. His hips give a weak stutter when your teeth catch his earlobe, and you swear his eyes cross.

“I so knew you’d be into that,” you repeat his tease from earlier, and nibble gently on the shell of his ear.

He presses into you impossibly closer, and what can only be described as a whimper falls from his lips when you leave a love bite on the crux of his jaw.

“Can I touch you now,” he sighs, “Please?”

Mmhmm, you nod eagerly. Equal parts of excitement, arousal and anxiety course through your veins- you’ve waited for this for so long, and now that it’s finally happening, it’s a tad nerve-wracking.

His hands fumble with the button of your jeans, and he glances quickly up at you with a look equally nervous and elated. You’re relieved to know he feels just as nervous as you do. It sets you at ease. Eddie always makes you feel better, even when he isn’t trying.

He pushes and paws at the fabric until it passes over the curve of your ass. You lift your hips off the counter, allowing him enough room to peel the denim off you and drop it to the floor. His eyes glaze over when he turns his gaze back to you.

You sit before him, lips kiss-swollen, chest heaving, completely naked except for a pair of tiny black of panties.

Eddie’s sanity has left the building.

“How are you even real,” he groans, more to himself than to you.

One shaking hand deposits itself on the crease between your thigh and your waiting center. You hum with need. The hand on your thigh peruses you lightly, testingly. You’d expected him to dive right in, to rip off your underwear and go to town, but he doesn’t. He draws it out, building up the anticipation.

His thumb brushes a line across your damp underwear with a smile.

“That’s cute,” he crinkles his nose when you jolt at the sensation of his thumb catching your clit. He goes back to touching everywhere but that electric spot, teasing and rubbing around it, his finger exploring you through the fabric.

“What is?” you shiver, fighting the urge to take his hand and push it back to where you ache for it most.

“How wet you are for me already,” His finger slides shallowly underneath the elastic, just barely ghosting across the sensitive skin. He raises the band of your underwear and lets it go with a snap. You jump slightly at the stinging sensation.

“Eddie!” you yelp, “Stop teasing, you’re being-”

“Mean?”

You huff a small laugh. At first, you think he’s joking. But a mischievous glimmer flashes across his eyes, and then he’s hardening his expression.

His thumb returns to your clit, and you nearly sob in gratitude until you feel how soft he’s being- just barely grazing the nub with each half circle. 

“But I thought,” he leans down and gnaws a gentle bite into your pulse point, “You wanted me to be mean?”

You shake your head desperately.

"No? So what, sweetheart" he says in between nips at your neck, "You gonna let me be nice to you now?"

His thumb circles faster, still only applying the faintest hint of pressure through the soaked fabric. You attempt to grind your hips up into his hand, but he holds your hip down flush against the counter, only allowing you to take as much as he wants to give you.

"I get to say all the nice things I've wanted to say?" he whispers against the shell of your ear. You mumble under your breath, unable to form a proper response. Eddie stills his hand completely.

You let out an embarrassing whine.

“Yes, God, whatever you want, just please, please touch me,” desperation leaks into your voice.

Eddie smiles against the side of your throat and yanks your panties down to hang off one ankle.

“Well, because you asked so nicely,” he swipes two fingers through your folds without further delay.

Your breath catches in your throat as two of his fingers circle your entrance, collecting the wetness that pools there. Fireworks flash in your vision. He dips ever so slightly inside of you, then works his hand upwards towards your clit and gives a testing rub. You stutter through a moan.

“Right there?” he strokes more confidently this time.

“Yeah, that’s- yeah,” you sigh, throwing your head back.

“Fuck,” he drops his head to your shoulder, staring at the way his fingers work against you.

He lets you rock your hips into his hand for a while as he strokes you, chasing the growing sensation. It’s like he can read your mind. He knows exactly the amount of pressure and speed you require to be shaking under him. He’s hardly even touched you, but you can feel your orgasm building up, curling around your insides like tendrils of smoke.

You’ve never needed anything more than to touch him back. With unsteady hands, you reach out to unbuckle his belt, shoving his pants half-way down his thighs unceremoniously. Your hand wraps around his dick through his boxers and gives a few squeezes. He bucks into your hands with a moan, his rhythm on your clit faltering.

You whine when he bats your hands away reluctantly.

“Don’t worry about me, pretty girl,” he whispers, refocusing on you, swiping against your bud in a way that has your toes curling, “This one’s all you.”  

His two fingers disappear momentarily, and he shushes you before you can whine again. He replaces it with his thumb, continuing the rhythm you liked before, and trails his index finger down to inch slowly into your waiting entrance. You gasp at the feeling. It’s just one finger, but it’s so long and thick that you can feel yourself stretch around it.

“You have the prettiest pussy baby, Jesus,” he presses an adoring kiss to your shoulder and gawks at the way his fingers thrust inside you, glistening with your slick.

You can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed.

Chattering voices pause outside the doorway, and you fight to still yourself, even as Eddie’s fingers work against you, inside you. 

You’re suddenly very aware that he’s fingerfucking you in a bathroom, in the middle of a party, with all your friends just downstairs.

He adds another finger without warning, and you have to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a moan. Eddie turns his ear towards the door, gauging the distance of the people outside, never pausing the rough drag of his fingers against your walls. His free hand raises to his lips, one finger against his smirking mouth in a hush gesture.

He pulls the tips of his fingers forward in a come-hither motion, rubbing deliciously against the spot inside you that you can never reach with your own hands. Luckily at the exact moment a loud whimper leaves you, whoever’s outside erupts into obnoxious laughter.

You both pause and turn to the door, waiting to make sure no one heard you moan. After what feels like an eternity, the voices in the hallway fade away, the sounds of footsteps thunder down the stairs.

Eddie drops his forehead to your shoulder once more, and redoubles his efforts, thrusting his fingers harder into you, the thumb circling your clit nearing on vicious.

“That was a close one, babe,” he teases, “almost got caught.”

You can feel your bottom half tightening, and your pussy starts to flutter around his hand. Eddie smiles and circles his thumb around, hitting from a new angle, and you’re about to combust.

"I ha-have a room, you know," you gasp through your fingers, your legs start to shake around him.

Eddie shakes his head vigorously into the crook of your neck.

"Nancy, Steve, an' Jonathan are using it."

Well, file that away to ask about later.

“Guess you have to try and keep quiet,” he leans up to kiss you, silencing your growing pants with his mouth.

You whimper against his lips, the hip held in his grip thrashes upwards into his hand, and he holds you steady through it. Your hole squeezes his fingers rhythmically, warning him of your impending orgasm.

“Shit baby, you gonna cum for me already?” he asks incredulously. Color stains high in his cheeks, and he looks so proud of himself, so proud of you.

You nod pathetically.

“Such a good girl,” he simpers.

The rubber band in your stomach tightens impossibly, threatening to snap. His fingers move inside you once, twice, and you’re gone.

“Eds- Eddie, I-” you lean back and come around his fingers with a broken moan. 

It’s like a wildfire, ripping through your whole body without abandon.You don’t care how loud you are, because the only thing that exists right now is Eddie- his hands, his mouth, his panting. You clutch his arm roughly, your nails leaving half-moon impressions in his flesh. He works you through it gently, lovingly pumping his fingers inside you until you have to push his thumb off your clit, shivering from overstimulation.

You catch his lips again in a sloppy, sated kiss.

“That was… wow,” you lean back, resting your cheek against the cold bathroom mirror.

It was much more than “wow”. That was better than you ever dared to hope. If you knew this would happen tonight, that your feelings would be returned, that Eddie would be smiling down at you after giving you one of the best orgasms of your life, you would have walked in on him in the bathroom ages ago.

“Very wow,” He smiles slyly and slips his fingers wetly out of you. 

The cool glass of the mirror against your cheek is a welcome contrast to the hot drag of his fingers leaving you. Your breath still comes out in heavy pants, recovering from your climax. Even as you come down, you still feel that spark inside your gut, that need for him.

Eddie leans across your naked torso to plant a kiss on your cheek, and he nuzzles his nose into your hair.

“Do you wanna stop?” he whispers into the side of your head.

Hmm? You murmur, your brain still fuzzy from the orgasm he just gave you.

“We can stop here, if you want,” he kisses your forehead, “Go back to the party, or just talk?”

You glance down at the erection clearly visible in his boxers- at some point when he was fingering you, he must have shoved off his ripped jeans completely. His chest is flushed completely, heaving silently, and you can tell how turned on he is. He’s straining against his waistband with arousal, and he’s still thinking about your comfort first.

“No!” you lean forward, and brush a finger across the front of his boxers. He shivers at the faint touch, “No, I wanna… wanna keep going.”

His hands tighten against the edge of the counter, his knuckles blanching from the pressure.

“Yeah?” his nearly growls, eyes darkening at the prospect.

“Yeah,” you smile coquettishly, “I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes roll back into his head and shut tight, almost as if he’s saying a quick prayer.

“I was really hoping you’d say that,” he kisses you again fervently, like he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last sip of cold water.

His hips slot between yours again, grinding intentionally this time. You exhale a moan as the tip of his cock nudges your oversensitive clit through the fabric. Your wetness spreads around the front of his boxers messily, and you’re about to tear them off him-

"Fuck, shit!" Eddie rips himself away from you without warning, leaving you cold and exposed on the counter, "Shit shit shit," he mumbles. A spike of anxiety rips through you.

"What? What's wrong?"

Eddie drops to his knees on the ground, grabbing his discarded jeans off the floor and digging through the pockets fervently. You nervously cross your arms over your bare chest, watching as he tosses the pants back down. He sighs heavily, not having found what he was looking for.

He rises up and moves to the cabinet above the toilet. Swinging the hinge open, he rifles through your toiletries, cursing under his breath the whole time. He's still in just his underwear. The sight would be comical if this display wasn't making you so nervous.

"Eds, what are you-"

"I don't have a condom. Shit!" he interrupts with his back to you, still shoving through your belongings frantically.

"Eddie-"

"You don't have some down there, do you?" he turns around, points to the cabinet underneath the sink and advances forward to squat in front of you. He grabs both your ankles with one hand and holds them to the side, placing a distracted kiss on your knee before reaching to rummage in the drawers under you.

"Do I keep condoms in the bathroom my mother cleans?" you snort, your legs flexing in his grip, "No."

"Fuck. How about plastic wrap?" he punctuates each suggestion with the slam of a drawer, "Ziploc bag?" slam, "A really thick sock?" slam.

"Eddie, stop," you giggle and grab his face between your hands, stilling his restless body. He stares up at you through his lashes, breathing hard, and trails his hands up from your ankles to grip your thighs.

"It's okay," you reassure him, "I'm on the pill. So, if you want to- I mean I really want you to- ya' know..." you trail off.

He exhales unsteadily.

"You want me to come inside you?"

Your chest tightens with slight embarrassment. Hopefully that doesn't freak him out, but yes. You can't think of anything besides Eddie fucking into you with no barrier, feeling every twitch, him spilling so deep inside you that you can feel it for days after.

You nod at him, tight lipped.

His forehead drops to your thigh and he lets out another shaky breath. You wiggle impatiently on your tailbone, waiting for him to respond. He settles his shoulders decisively, and you're almost worried he's about to turn you down. Instead he lunges up and catches your lips in a bruising kiss.

"This is my fuckin' wet dream, I swear," he yanks your hips to the very edge of the counter. He kisses you again, all tongues and teeth, and his underwear disappears in an instant. 

You’re floored. Like, your jaw is dropped, absolutely flabbergasted- and that’s not a word you throw around lightly.

“Holy shit,” you pull away to stare at him, completely naked and aching before you.

“Impressive, right?” he waggles his eyebrows at you, “Do I live up to your imagination?”

Impressive is definitely the right word. You’d felt him earlier, just briefly, but nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him. He easily has the nicest dick you’ve ever seen. It’s fucking pretty- a trail of dark hair leading mouth-wateringly down, blushed as red as the rest of him, and leaking pearly drops of arousal at the tip. 

It’s also way bigger than you anticipated. Like, I don’t know if it’ll fit bigger. Your eyes widen with slight anxiety.

I have no idea where the fuck you think you’re putting that, buddy.

“I mean, yeah. Better than imagination. But- uh…” you swallow. He has to know how intimidating this is.

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine, baby,” he drops the smug act and cups your face, “I’ll go slow, ok? Just let me know if I need to stop.”

With one final glance down at his throbbing cock, you give a sharp nod.

“Yeah, ok,” you steel yourself and brace against the counter as he grabs himself with one hand, giving a few short pumps before lining himself up with you.

The stretch you feel around just the tip of his cock is insane. He’d already worked you open with an orgasm around his thick fingers, and you’re drenching both your thighs with your arousal. You’re as prepared as you could possibly be, but this much of his cock inside you already makes you feel full.

“Oh my God,” he groans as he slowly breaches the ring of muscle at your entrance, “You’re so wet baby, Jesus.” You know from previous drunken conversations that Eddie has never had sex without a condom before. It must be taking all his willpower to go slow for your sake.

He moans your name brokenly, just barely inching himself inside you. You desperately want to hear that again.

You wiggle your hips gently and clench around him, anything you can do to get him to moan your name again. He has to shoot his hand to the countertop and grab it ferociously to stop himself from bucking his hips fully into you.

“Not nice, sweetheart,” he growls, “I don’t wanna hurt you. Play nice.”

Your pouting is cut off by a moan when he gently thrusts further into you.

“Fuck- how are you still so- ah- tight?” the hand gripping the counter comes up to clutch at your breast. His grip is just on the edge of painful, and he claws at you like he’s trying to distract himself, to calm himself down. You hope you’ll have finger shaped bruises to stare at in the morning.

You hum and pant, “I think you’re just really… really big.”

He huffs an uneven laugh at that.

He’s only halfway in when you hold him still with your thighs, clenching them tight around his waist and trembling with exertion. It’s not exactly painful, it’s just so much. You need a second before he continues.

You tremble for a few moments, then give him a quick nod, his cue to keep going.

“Good?” he swipes a hand down your arm affectionately.

“I’m good, I’m- I’m good,” to be honest, you could use a few more seconds. But you want him to just fuck you already so bad, you’re willing to endure a bit of pain.

He clicks his tongue in doubt. He’s always read you like a book, and he knows you’re fibbing a bit.

“Relax, sweetheart. Just relax for me, ok?” his hands drops down to your clit and starts to circle gently. You sigh and lean back against the mirror, giving Eddie ample space to bite at your exposed throat and chest.

The new angle, paired with Eddie’s mouth and fingers relaxing you, serves to open you up enough for him to bottom out completely. You both moan when he sinks fully into your heat. 

His hand removes itself startlingly from yours. Your calf comes up to rub against his hip, and you attempt to kiss him, but he’s not looking at you anymore.

Eddie’s eyes are trained straight ahead into the mirror, his brows furrowed deep, his mouth clenched hard. His arms are braced next to your shivering form on the counter, and his whole body is statuesque with tension, except for a slight shake in his shoulders.

“Eddie,” you whisper, “It’s ok, you can move now-”

“No.”

He doesn’t even look at you when he says it. He keeps his eyes trained forward, his brows cinching impossibly tighter. It almost looks like he’s giving himself an internal pep talk in the mirror.

You scoff. It’s sweet that he’s trying not to hurt you, but you’re more than ready.

“Really, I’m ok,” you wiggle your hips around his thick cock, feeling victorious when he exhales sharply, “I want you to-”

His hands grab your hips fiercely, holding you down with all his strength so you can’t bounce down onto him. You pout at him, eager for him to do something, do anything.

“I know. I know, just… give me a second,” he grits out, “Or I’m gonna finish before we even get started.”

Oh.

You hide a proud smile. Your pussy is driving him so crazy he’s about to cum without even moving. It’s ridiculously hot. It’s also something you can tease him for later, but not right now. Right now you lean back on your hands and put space between your bodies, giving him room to calm himself down.

“‘M trying to think about baseball.” he huffs humorously, “But I don’t know anything about baseball.”

You start to grow fidgety as the seconds tick by, waiting for him to move. 

You’re only getting wetter at the feeling of him unmoving inside you, filling you so completely, like he was made to fit right there.

“Eddie, please,” you whine, teasingly clenching around his length, “”S ok. Don’ wanna wait anymore, just please, please fuck me-

He tilts his hips back and then thrusts forward, and he’s finally, finally fucking you.

It's not comfortable. The counter digs into the flesh of your thighs, your panties hang garishly off one ankle, every thrust of Eddie's hips shoves your head into the mirror behind you. 

It's not comfortable, but you hardly even notice because it feels so good.

He thrusts into you, and you lose track of time, lose track of anything besides the feel of him burying himself deeper than you thought possible.

“Oh my God,” you dig your hands into the curly hair at the base of his neck, his hair tie having long since been pulled out. His forehead is flush to yours, and he’s peppering your face with little kisses, a sweet gesture in stark contrast to the filthy way he fucks into you.

“You ha-have no idea how… fuck- long I’ve wanted to do this,” he moans at the feeling of your warmth dragging wetly against him.

“Me too,” you admit breathlessly, “‘S always been you, Eds.”

“Just for me, yeah?” he says with a sharp thrust, “This little pussy is all for me?”

If anyone else had spoken to you like this, you would be beyond embarrassed. But there’s something about the way Eddie spits filth so possessively, so passionately. It makes you burn with need.

“Yes, fuck, all for you, only for you,” you whisper.

You can already feel that tension growing in your stomach again. His hair forms a soft curtain around your face, and he’s the only person in the world right now. His tongue flicks out over his lips as he concentrates, and even as his thrusts grow more desperate, he flashes you the sweetest smile.

Perfect.

One of your hands reaches back down to your aching pussy, to the place where he splits you open. You gingerly caress the place where his cock meets his body and he stutters.

Your hand trails back up to your clit and you start to circle it, chasing the orgasm you can feel squeezing your insides.

He pulls your hand away and replaces it with his own, using his thumb to work toe-curling strokes into your clit in time with his thrusts. Your eyes roll to the ceiling at the sensation, and you’re so close.

Eddie’s close too, you can feel it. His pants and moans grow higher, breathier. The movement of his hips grows frantic and erratic, and he starts to shake. He loses the ability to form sentences, the only coherent words coming out as broken curses and stutters of your name.

The hand that isn’t circling your clit slides up your body and deposits itself over your collarbone.

“Can I…” he hovers his palm over your throat, asking for permission.

“Yes, ohmygod, please,” you lean your neck up into his waiting grasp. He gives a gentle squeeze, never harder than a soft grip. It isn’t about controlling your air. Instead it feels like Eddie having total possession of you- the willingness to place your most vulnerable pieces in his hands for safe keeping.

Eddie nearly cums on the spot when he catches sight of you with your eyes shut tight, moaning his name, with his rings glinting lowly around your throat.

Neither of you are going to last much longer. The hand circling your clit doubles down, and you nearly black out. Full body shivers wrack your body, and Eddie isn’t doing much better- he looks ready to snap.

“You gonna be a good girl and come for me again, baby?” he asks you, lightly squeezing at your throat and bearing down on your clit. 

You nod and whine as his cock nudges against your plush walls, your pussy fluttering around his cock as you come hard.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” both his hands drop to your hips when he feels you coming around him, and he ruts up into the tightness. He gives a full body shake and a final broken little whimper, and then he’s spilling deep inside you.

You’re both panting, chests heaving with your release. You lean back so your shoulders rest against the (now foggy) mirror, and Eddie follows, draping himself over you, cuddling you as best he can in the cramped bathroom.

When he goes to slip out, you stop him with your thighs, keeping his cock still inside you. You’re not quite ready for him to leave your warmth yet. He chuckles lightly and drags you back up to a sitting position. You grumble, but allow him to manipulate you where he wants you. He pulls your arms up to rest around his neck, and his come down to wrap around your waist. You exchange soft breaths, both caught up in what just happened.

“Well, fuck me,” he mumbles after a minute or two, “I was always rooting for us crazy kids to get together,” he tickles lightly at your sides.

You giggle at that, and snort again when his whole body seizes up. Whenever you laugh, you clench around his now-softening, overstimulated length.

“Fuck. I gotta take it out now, sweetheart,” he warns. He slips wetly out of you and slots his mouth over yours to catch the moan falling from your lips. You feel intensely empty, but satiated. Although now, you’re not sure you’ll ever feel whole again without some part of him inside you.

Seconds later, his cum begins to drip out of you. Eddie notices as you stiffen up, eyes dropping to your naked center then back up to your face. Before you have a chance to deal with the mess, he’s dragging your panties from your ankle, up your legs, and hitching them to their rightful place over your ass. He flashes a dastardly smile, very aware that his cum will stay in your underwear, keeping the smeary mess between your thighs. Gross.

Hot.

He leans onto the counter and kisses you easily, lazily as you both come down from your highs.

After a while you part from each other. He offers a gentlemanly hand to help you down onto your shaky legs. 

The pair of you begin to redress in silence. It’s just a tad awkward. Still nice, but the vibe is a bit delicate. You can feel a question lingering in the air- where do we go from here?

“Well, Henderson’s gonna be really smug about this,” Eddie smirks, pulling his underwear and pants up his legs in one easy motion.

You pause halfway into pulling on your shirt over your head, your arms extended upwards, your belly exposed to the muggy bathroom air.

“Dustin talked to you too?” your voice is muffled by the fabric. Eddie laughs at the sight.

“Yeah, he’s the one who convinced me to leave the meeting early tonight. He helped me work up the nerve to tell you how I feel,” he admits.

You finally wrestle your shirt down.

“Oh my God,” you cup the sides of your face in embarrassment, “That kid is a little fucking puppet master! He totally manipulated us into- not manipulated, sorry, that’s not the right word, that makes it seem like I didn’t want to- you know, but I really, really did, I promise,” you ramble on, growing increasingly more flustered, “Ugh, not the point! I’m totally gonna kick his ass!”

“Well, I’m gonna thank him,” Eddie drags you into him and plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, “And then I’m gonna kick his ass.”

You laugh gently at that. Silence settles back over you again, and you back up ever so slightly to cross your arms over your chest. One of Eddie’s hands grabs at his hair and pulls it in front of his face, hiding behind it.

“So, I-”

“Eds-”

You both speak over each other, and giggle again. This kind of awkwardness is new, and sweet, and something you’re excited to explore with him. Your palm slides down his arm and catches his hand in a loose hold.

“You first?” you offer.

He nods and takes a deep breath.

"I went through a lot a few months ago,” he taps the scars on his rib absently, “And maybe it would be easier if we were just friends.”

Your heart sinks at those words. You drop his hand and retreat further. Oh. Maybe you misread everything that just happened. Just… friends. Just friends who hook up? You don’t think you could handle that.

“No, hey, listen. That came out wrong,” he huffs, and grabs both your hands in his once more, “Almost dying from those stupid fucking bats, it made me realize... I don't want ‘easy' with you. I don’t want to be just friends. And I don’t want this to just be a hookup, either.”

You exhale shakily. You’re beyond relieved, but questions still niggle in the back of your mind. Was he worried about that? That you just wanted a hookup?

"This isn't just... I don't want you to think- fuck, why is this so hard?" you groan.

"Yeah, it was pretty hard, huh?" he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Shut up,” you shove lightly at his shoulder, “I’m trying to be vulnerable here!”

He smirks down at you gently.

“Not exactly your forte, sweetheart.”

Once again, he reads you like a book. But if you want to make this work, you have to let him know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how you feel about him. 

Be vulnerable.

Your two index fingers hook into the loops of his belt and pull him into you flirtily. You push yourself up on your tiptoes and bring your face close to his, like you’re about to kiss him.

“I think you should spend the night,” you pull back slightly just before your lips touch his. His face sours jokingly, but he allows you to continue, “And then tomorrow you should take me on a date. And then, you can ask to be my… boyfriend, or whatever.” you make a silly face at the word boyfriend.

His doe-eyes light up, and his teeth bare in the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen.

“Boyfriend, huh? Very official. I like it,” he leans in slowly, achingly slowly, and his lips are just barely brushing yours-

Knock Knock Knock.

Both your heads whip around to the door at the sudden sound.

“Hey,” you recognize Dustin’s muffled voice, “Are you guys done having sex in there? I need to pee and Gareth’s totally throwing up in the other bathroom.”

You cover your mouth to hold in a raucous laugh. Yeah, you’re totally kicking that kid’s ass later. Eddie holds his hands up to you as you're about to respond, and gives you a shh gesture. He cups his hands around his mouth like a megaphone.

“AhAhAh! Fuck ohmygodfuck I’m gonna-,” Eddie loudly fake moans and whines in a high pitched voice at the door, aiming to scar the kid for life. You hit him lightly on the shoulder, holding in silent giggles the whole time.

“EW WHAT THE FUCK,” Dustin screams, and you hear him run off loudly in the opposite direction of the bathroom.

You turn to each other and burst into laughter. Eddie throws his arm around your shoulder as you unlock the door, opening it wide, ready to face whatever comes next together.

"You're such an asshole, Eddie," you roll your eyes. Your face feels like it’s going to split from how hard you’re grinning.

"Yeah,” he gives you a quick peck on the cheek, “Only for you, princess."

___

here's where that line is originally from!

crossposted to ao3

[genshinology]

THEM AS ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE.

ft. ayato, childe, itto and xiao.

content; GENSHIN QUESTS SPOILERS AHEAD!!(?), i don't really say them as spoilers but yeah.., slight mentions of blood in childe's and as usual, your girl is too lazy to proofread this.

notes; here's a something to make up my hiatus and!! ayato and itto are also included (yes, i'm simping) <3

AYATO.

nobleman!ayato x commoner!reader

the kamisato head clan was your least favourite person of all time, and this unsure, yet negative feeling you'd on him all started since an eight years old ayato did a prank on your younger self.

since then, ayato seemed to find the joy in stirring your commoner life, until the name ayato engraved at the back of your mind with such revenge and hatred.

it went like this, until one day, he heard the shogunate was going to enforce the vision hunt decree, he had no choice but to obey, he needed to maintain his title as one of the heads in tenryou commission yet all he thought was you, your stupid smile, and your vision.

he knew he had to do something about it.

"come here," the moment ayato's voice called you out, you rolled your eyes, spun and trying to blend in with the crowds, knowing too well that he couldn't get you in public appearances.

but ayato was faster, all he did was pulling you aside, hidden from prying eyes, and all he said was, "do you have your vision?"

you scoffed, maybe too rude for someone as noble as him, but you didn't care, "why? you're going to take it, hm? under the behalf of the shogun?"

your choosing of words should've made him baffled, or amused, but instead, he didn't have the time for your nonsense and your attitude, "give me your vision," his voice asserted command and it honestly scared you, "you really want it? no, not with your own hands, kamisato."

ayato's grip on your wrist tightened, you didn't get why he was so stubborn with this, or even wanted to do this, but still, the desperation in his eyes was evident, "give it to me, now," his tone went cold, "before i snatch it with my own hands," he mocked, and his low tone, almost like a growl, came out from him, frustrated and it left you in a confused yet frightened state.

"i'll take care of your vision, it is much safer with me."

"ayato?" your voice sounded small, and you were left speechless with his actions, did he really go all this length just to protect your vision?

but why?

he looked down on you, slowly pulling the vision away, and you nodded, and that was all it took for ayato to have your own consent, "take care, little one. i am hoping that you don't go around making a fuss with the shogunate."

you didn't know why you believe him in the first place, but you did.

and now, your vision was in the hand of your worst enemy, yet he saved you from many unfortunate occasions under the decree.

CHILDE.

fatui harbinger!childe x adventurer!reader

childe was a cheerful and an easygoing person, one look at him and everyone instantly knew, that this man, was someone who didn't take things too seriously.

that was, until your name came out.

both you and him, or maybe all of the people around you, knew that you hated childe with all your heart, and vice versa.

picking up occasional fights with him was normal, belittling each other in combats and talking big about who was better were your daily routine, yet him being like this was certainly out of the norm.

"what do you think you're doing?" you frowned, retracting your body away from his hold, but childe was stronger, and there was no point of you trying to fight his strength.

"who did this to you?" he shamelessly looked up and down at your whole dirty, and bloodied clothes, gently touching all cuts and bruises, in contrast with him forcefully made you sat down in front of him prior to that.

"why do you even care?" you pulled away for the tenth times from his touch, a foreign feeling bubbling inside your chest, and childe's gaze was filled with rage, and you were stunned with his face.

"because you are someone i care about," you mentally cursed at your damned heart for skipping a beat at that, but childe seemed oblivious with his previous words, yet all you saw was the ginger in front of you slightly shook and his eyes burned when he saw your injuries.

he truthfully worried, what ifs questions were running around inside his mind, and all he could think of was his subordinates, the fatui.

he knew that they didn't like him, and he knew that they purposefully injured you, you had been there once, and it was because of him.

sure, you didn't look like you were hurting, or weak, you were strong, he knew that, but he couldn't contain himself when he saw how awful you came back from outside of the city, "let me teach them a lesson, yeah?"

ITTO.

demon!itto x human!reader

itto was too cocky.

that was among infinite traits you didn't like about him.

that sly smirk you had been aching to wipe off of his face, how he practically flaunting his muscles everywhere with no shame. yes, you slightly cringed at the sights but that couldn't compare with how full he was of himself.

and god, he didn't even give you a time alone, whenever you went, he would be following you behind with his narcissistic side, saying that he would protect you or something along the line of don't worry, this is the one and oni, arataki itto, will protect you.

no matter how many times you ignored him, that much would be a payback of how clingy he was towards you afterwards.

such a childish act for a big guy.

"y/n!!" if you could do it sooner, you would've shut his loud mouth with a tape, because oh my god, he was loud as hell, and you were getting tired of keeping up with his burst of energy.

they said that you shouldn't be around an oni for too long, but itto seemed harmless, too human although he was a half-demon that was supposedly be feared.

"what is it, big boy?" a heavy sigh passed your lips, you just wanted to go out for a morning walk, nothing more and nothing less, and what a wonderful way for you to start your day, you thought.

"just want to greet my favourite person," he gave you a hug, tone too happy for someone who'd just whining about how he lost in a duel, his face slightly rubbing beside yours and you swiftly ducked your head, ultimately freeing your body from the figure who was too close in your opinion.

"aww," he slightly whined, you didn't understand his mood, so you were frankly, straight to the point, "what do you want, itto? you usually want to cut my head off, but today you're such a baby."

"hey! if you're shorter than me, you are definitely a child. no room for argument," he huffed, yes, definitely too whiny for a guy who could've break you with a one punch.

"although i badly want to duel with you, since, you know, i uh.. lost yesterday, but isn't today's your birthday?"

"and?"

"come on, now. you're no fun," he pulled his arms into his chest, "that's why i would like to make your dull life much more brighter," he faked a cough, "happy birthday—

"yeah, cut it off, arataki itto."

XIAO.

adeptus!xiao x human!reader

how did someone could be hating social interactions so much?

that was the first question you only had, and it was for a specific adeptus.

xiao was too lonely, and when he always shrugged you off, you decided that you didn't like that side of his.

what was the point in protecting liyue but having a solitude life? did he really feel that bothered by having someone talking with him?

your numerous questions were answered when verr told you his backstory, and maybe you were being dramatic, but his reason was so heartbreaking for you to hear.

"don't," xiao's hard tone warned, because you stared at him too much until he couldn't bear to see your eyes, he knew you knew, and he didn't like the fact that there was guilt everywhere inside you.

"i don't need your mortal pity," and you almost cried when remembering his karmic debt, because all this time, you treated him so bad, and now you were weighing with guilt, guilt and guilt.

"xiao," you finally, finally voiced out after long session of looking at the adeptus, his green spear in his hand, that mask beside his waist, "i'm sorry."

"don't, it's useless," xiao wondered how you suddenly became like this. usually, you would bickering with him, saying that he needed communications and daily conversations in his life but today, of all day, where he felt so heavy with karma, you decided to soften your heart and looking at him with such sympathy.

he truly hated that look you had been giving to him for hours now.

he knew you knew, your eyes told him everything, and he silently blamed one of the staff at the inn who let out his most challenging problem in his life towards you.

you felt like comforting him, but you didn't know how, it was weird when all you did was fighting with him, babbling about all the things surrounded him and then suddenly, you wanted to put him at ease.

so you decided to let the day passed by, silently enjoying the sky view from the rooftop of wangshu inn, no words were told to him, and he, for the first time, appreciated your treatment.

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[fic-dumpster]

Deer in headlights | Short stories: You already have your own

Bonten x Reader | Canon divergent | 859 words

Warnings: suggestive themes MDNI. Jealousy(?), idk nothing really, grammar mistakes, Can be read as a stand alone fic. Kind reminder to pls pls read my rules.

You didn't have much experience with men, but you supposed this is not how they should behave. You were never taking Mikey grocery shopping with you ever again. Since the incident with Ran and Rindo, you weren't allowed to go shopping without at least on of them. You’ll ask Mochizuki or... or... Was there no other normal-public-behaving member in Bonten?

Everything began when a child on his mother’s cart began ogling at you. As his mom continue shopping in the same aisle as you two, the real child, not the one besides you, kept his little eyes on you the whole time.

“Isn’t he cute?” you told Mikey as you made little wavy hands to the baby.

“No,” he wasn't having it. Mikey suspected the baby was plotting something.

“Oh, come on, Manjiro,” you pouted, “it’s a baby! Babies are cute.” He didn't answer because he was busy sizing his new enemy. You rolled your eyes at his attitude.

The baby surprised you by throwing things from his cart to the floor, which resulted in you running and picking them up. You and the mom were instantly immersed in a conversation after she thanked you.

You asked about the baby while you wiggled your fingers at him. The little boy quickly grabbed a finger in your hand and began to laugh. You were enamored with the tiny creature.

Mikey didn't like the look on your face; you only were supposed to look at him like that. You felt a murderous aura approaching behind you when suddenly Mikey’s hand came and snatched your finger from the baby.

“Get your own,” he whispered. Did he want to fight a toddler? Was he sulking? “We’re done shopping,” he said as he pulled you away. You apologized to the mom as you waved goodbye.

“Manjiro! Wait! The cart? And the stuff?” You were lost at his scowling face.

“I don’t care,” He walked towards his car in a hurry.

-

Later at Bonten’s Office, you sat with Mikey on a sofa in Kakucho’s office. Mikey, with his face in your neck, hugged you so tight that breathing was becoming a difficult task to do.

“Mikey, you're gonna kill Y/N.” commented with concern Kakucho.

“Yeah, little lady there, be looking blue already,” added Ran as his brother agreed with a nod.

“You know?” You gave a heavy sigh and said, “I want a baby,” with dreamy eyes and a smile on your face.

“What?!” Sanzu stood frozen at the door. Everyone else was just as petrified as Sanzu at your statement.

“No,” mumbled Mikey in your neck.

“But I want one!” you insisted. Making everyone flinch like they've been hit.

“Sweet-cheeks, We can borrow one-” began Sanzu trying to appease the situation.

“No, no, no.” you denied it, “I want my own,”

“That’s it, Mikey let her go; Y/N needs oxygen to function properly,” demanded Kakucho.

“If none here wants to, then I’ll ask Takeomi,” you huffed since none was taking you seriously. You began to try to pray away from Mikey’s grasp.

“Nobody said no!” was this what they call baby fever? Wondered Sanzu.

“Yeah, I volunteer,” grumbled Rindo. Skeptical but eager at the same time.

“Kaku-chan? Why won't you volunteer?” You asked with big doe eyes, and the scarred man couldn't be anymore flustered. You saw him cover his face as he inhaled sharply. Someone should stop you now. You didn't even realize the effect you have on every man present here.

“That’s enough, Doe,” Mikey firmly said, “No baby other than me, now shut up,” he began to nibble at your neck and shoulders. Wandering hands began to make their way under your clothes, as Mikey was almost straddling you at this point.

You felt a weight on your other side and saw Sanzu taking a seat. He wasn't as delicate as Mikey, but their intentions resonated with one another. Sanzu wasted no more time and assaulted your mouth. Lips and teeth clashing left you lightheaded. He nipped at your skin, leaving a trail of red marks.

“What’s going on? Weren’t we supposed to hear Kakucho’s report?” Asked Kokonoi as he stepped into the room while looking at the scene on the couch. Glancing around, he saw Kakucho on the verge of a panic attack and the Haitani brothers looking at their phones.

“What are you two doing?” asked Kokonoi once again, but this time directed at Ran and Rindo.

“Shopping for baby clothes,” both answered in a monotonous voice.

“What?” he looked around for an explanation.

Sanzu detaching himself from you, spoke with a lazy smile on, “Y/N, wants a baby,” and went back to his previous job. Having you squirming in between him and Mikey.

Kokonoi turned on his heels and walked out. That's what he gets for working with a bunch of eccentrics. On his way out, he bumped on Takeomi and Mochizuki.

“Sorry for the tardiness; we had some-” began Takeomi.

“No, there's no meeting, just expensive baby-making,” groaned Kokonoi

The last two Bonten members were left lost in the middle of the hall.

[theasexuwhalestuff]

Thoughts while watching Part III of the Kenobi Series

Looking at the title card for the umpteenth time and wondering why tf they couldn't just have gone with Kenobi. Most people already call it that instead of his full name. Lesser chance for confusion, and sounds way better. Similar ring to Andor.

Was looking forward to seeing Obi-Wan resume his panic/anxiety attack and completely lose his shit. But I guess him calling out to his master for the millionth time also works.

But seriously, Qui-Gon you bitch where are you when your son needs you answer him FFS.

I really have to commend Ewan for his portrayal of Obi-Wan during this stage of his life. I know he's mentioned that he's had to relearn Obi-Wan's accent, and I can hear hints of his Scottish accent coming through, but something else still sounded off. It took me a while to figure out the way his whole inflection and tone had changed. This was a conscious choice on Ewan's part, since the Obi-Wan he's playing now is very different to the one he's played before. He's portraying a broken, dejected man, and it's reflected in the way he speaks and interacts with the world around him. He doesn't help the Jedi who sought him out, and is unwilling to help Bail. His attitude towards Leia borders on indifferent and in this episode he even snaps at her, saying not everyone is good. I mean sure she can be annoying and something of a know-it-all, but I don't think I could ever have imagined Obi-Wan snapping at a child during the prequel era. Gone are his easygoing smile, the somewhat dramatic cadence of his voice, and the sarcastic remarks. Goes to show just how much research and care has been put into the state the character is in at this point in time. A person's experience is truly what shapes them, and here we're fortunate enough to get a glimpse of who this man could be in much different circumstances, and just how much he can bend before he breaks.

Mapuzo is a nice planet. I like the aesthetic.

Leia's actress, Vivien Lyra Blair was likely only 8 years old during filming, and it doesn't help that she easily looks like she could be 6 at the youngest. Adorable and very talented though. I've seen some of her other work.

Leia stepping up to the role of caretaker, because really, this man needs some serious help.

Damn, Order 66 rlly did a number on the great Negotiator, huh? Man can barely form words.

Why tf is this dumbass wandering around planet-to-planet in his old Jedi robes and the most Jedi-looking outfit in existence. Couldn't have picked out a different colour?? Different style and cut of clothes?? You're public enemy number one, man. Common sense be flying out the airlock.

That slip-up in front of the troopers gave me second-hand embarassment.

Ok, nice save. Negotiator back in his element, kinda.

Aw, Obi saying he wishes he could say he was Leia's father, and being soft to her 😭

Remembering his parents and his baby brother goddamnit.

But why tf are they talking so freely at the back of that space truck.

Ok, I love that unlike in the prequels, The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett, the fight scenes here are a lot slower since Obi-Wan is woefully out of practice, but is still kicking ass cuz well, Stormtroopers.

Leia running to Obi-Wan exactly the same way Grogu ran to his papa after being snatched by those bandits in Season 2 😭😭😭

Leia looking distraught and hugging Lola, so Obi-Wan goes to comfort her 😭❤

Quinlan Vos lives??? Also, Obi-Wan's tiny smile at finding out his little shit of a friend is still alive.

Reva starting to piss me off ngl.

Vader suddenly appearing with his saber scared the shit outta me.

Man rlly just took out his lightsaber only to immediately bolt outta there lmao.

Ok but when did lightsabers get so thick.

Im sorry but why are you walking away from Vader?? RUN my dude.

Yeah, this is why I loved The Mandalorian so much. Sick of Jedi and Sith devilry, and watching the SAME two men trade lightsaber blows, fucking boring. There's more to Star Wars than the fucking Jedi. Pls no more Jedi in future Mando seasons, Favloni 🤲

No rlly, how is he gonna come back alive after this? He's barely hanging onto life.

Yeah man, he's right. Really shoulda skewered this asshole when he choked his pregnant wife nearly to death. A child-killer not to mention.

I can already hear the dudebros lamenting the quality of the last epic duel lmfao.

WTF ANAKIN, DON'T BARBECUE YOUR DAD-BROTHER.

Letting Leia go alone was a stupid ass decision, but Tala and NED-B to Obi-Wan's rescue!

Run, Leia, run.

[thedarkcoven]

Don't Let the Devil Inside - Part 2

Minors DNI! 18+ ONLY!!! Warnings (for the whole story): Alcohol use, tobacco use, violence, talk of death and suicide, smut, choking, hair pulling, angst, manipulation, abuse of power, noncon, loss of virginity, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, public sex (car sex), oral sex, unprotected sex (please be safe), marking, possessive/protective!Arvin, dom/soft!Lee, semidark!Lee, jealous!Arvin, age gap: the reader is 24 and Lee Bodecker is 40. Modern Day setting ~~~~~~If you wanna be tagged lemme know <3 I apologize for any typos/shit grammar @turbolisedcomet

You decided to wear your lilac babydoll dress with a sweetheart neckline, the skirt stopping mid-thigh with black mary-jane shoes. Your foundation matched your complexion and your eyeshadow and lips complimented the shade of purple on your dress, making the color of your eyes pop. Arvin sat on your bed, looking through his phone while waiting; your parents were already at the parade site and told you they'd hold a spot for you. He smiled once you turned to him, making a final adjustment to your hair before smiling. "Ya look good, Y/N. Haven't seen you in a dress besides your work dress and church dress since we were kids. You're beautiful." Arvin was always too afraid to admit his feelings for you even though everyone else could see it. "Thank you, Arv. You look good too." You smiled and ruffled his hair. "Come on. Let's get there 'fore it's too late. Don't want Lee rippin' my head off when he comes by the restaurant again." You let out a small chuckle and went to Arvin's pickup truck. Your father waved at you and Arvin and motioned to the two lawn chairs that were sat close to the sidewalk so you could be close to the parade and the floats. Going to parades has always been a tradition since you were young and it was never going to change. Arvin sat beside you and drank some moonshine that your father and him shared. You grabbed it from him and took a big swig, smirking at him then sticking your tongue out at him as soon as he grabbed it back from you. "Hey now. I need you sober to drive. Your pops said I can crash tonight." "Fine." You huffed and gave a fake pout which caused him to laugh. "Would you cut it out?" He chuckled and playfully pushed your arm. "You're such a child." "What? I'm an adult. I'm allowed to drink to, y'know." The different floats and lights were so pretty. They filled you with childlike glee as you sat practically on the edge of your seat. Arvin watched with a smile as your eyes filled with excitement, the sound of the school band's instruments spilling out into the warm late summer air. Once the band continued you, you noticed red and blue lights. Your heart dropped as the cruiser slowly drove forward, a deputy in the passenger seat and back throwing candy out to children and any adult with a sweet tooth. You felt your heart catch in your throat when Lee's blue eyes landed on you with a smirk on his face. Out of reaction you snatched the moonshine from Arvin and took a big gulp before shoving it back into his hands. Lee's icy blue eyes now turned into the shade of blue like you see during stormy days. He took note of the alcohol and clenched his jaw as he gripped the steering wheel. Arvin gave you a questioning look as you stood and began weaving through the crowd to go to his truck. You needed a smoke to calm your nerves and wanted to be as far away from the Sheriff as possible. You groaned when you noticed Lee pulling in to block the truck from you. "Get out. You, Y/N. Get in the damn car. Now." You glared and crossed your arms before complying with his order, pushing past the deputy. You slammed the car door and huffed, staring straight ahead as he rolled up the windows. "What is it, Sheriff?" You whined as he gripped your jaw and forced you to look at him. "What I say bout that lil attitude o' yours, darlin'? So tell me... Were you drinkin' alcohol?" "N-No, sir." You whimpered as his fingers tightened, bringing your face close to his. He inhaled and smirked, staring down at you. "Is that so? Why I smell shine then?" "Fi-Fine. I was drinking moonshine. Let me go, Lee." "It's Sheriff to ya, darlin' and no. I ain't lettin' you go. You need to get punished for your fuckin' attitude. Get in the back." You glared at him but did as you were told. You paused as soon as you saw Lee exit the car then get back in, sitting in the back seat and closing the door. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you over his lap as he scooted into the middle, your face being pushed into the leather of the seat. Lee took in

a sharp inhale as his rough hands pushed up your lilac skirt, his hands gripping your thighs. Your eyes went wide as you started to squirm but Lee was much stronger than you. Sharp stinging pain made you freeze, your breath now catching your throat before you could protest. It took your brain a second to register what just happened and before you could comment, you felt your panties getting yanked down then his hands being brought down over and over on both ass cheeks. By the time he was done with you, you were whining as tears made streaks in your makeup, your ass now radiating heat from the abuse from his big hands. He sat you back up after pulling your underwear back up, anger still on his face. "Now. What do we say, princess?" "I-I'm so sorry, She-Sheriff." You managed to get out through hiccups and sobs. "Shh. Shh. It's okay, darlin'." He pulled you against his chest as you cried, petting your back softly and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. "S'okay, darlin'. I just hate it when you treat me with disrespect. Since day one you've treated me like shit. Bout time you show me some respect. I'm the law 'round here. Got that?" "Ye-Yes, Sheriff. I'm sorry, Sheriff." "I know you are. Get out. I'll be at the restaurant tomorrow for some lunch. You gonna be workin'?" You nodded and got out, answering with your voice before closing the door. Arvin walked over just in time as the deputy got back in the car and Lee drove off. He noticed your tears and instantly got pissed and protective, pulling you close in a tight hug. "What the fuck that pig do to you, Y/n? Tell me. I swear if he touched you-." "N-No. We just talked. He told me he never meant harm and-and that I was in the wrong and I am. I treated that man so poorly." You lied. "I-I just felt so bad and broke down. He hugged me and told me it's okay and that he forgives me." Arvin wasn't buying it but to not stress you out even more he just stood there holding you while whispering sweet things. His voice was soothing but it was hard to focus on it with the feeling of heat coming from your behind. "Ca-Can we go home? I want to shower, Arv." He nodded and helped you into the truck. All you wanted to do was let the hot water soothe your pain then curl up into the bed with Arvin to let your emotions melt away, not wanting to face Lee again tomorrow. All you wanted was to sleep.