#about not getting to do it' genuinely from the bottom of my heart shut the fuck up forever and deal with it

[belli5]

Current Boyfriend .ᐟ ೀWS²

╰ Synopsis doing the current boyfriend prank on Will, because you know how tiny bit sensitive he gets when it comes to you.

Tags/contains Fluff, Will Smith x fem!reader, kissing, light angst(barely, just a little pout), ion kno fr.

➺ from Sera, to you 📨. Genuinely had a bad day at work, people made me cry there today so I had to come back to my people.. 😭

masterlist ᥫ᭡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it! Please do NOT rewrite/repost my work anywhere else without permission!

When you stumbled across that video, the one where girlfriends film a video, then drop “my current boyfriend” like it’s the worlds most casual bomb, you can’t resist.

Especially because you know exactly how Will will react. He’s your softest boy, he tries to play it cool, laidback rookie, the half cocky smirk he gave you when he scores or teases you, but underneath all that? He’s sensitive, a little territorial, a tiny bit dramatic when it comes to you.

And you love it, every inch of it.

So here you are, sitting cross legged on the edge of your bed, scrolling through your phone with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. The original sound is blasting through your AirPods.

You can already picture it: Will’s eyebrows doing that confused scrunch, the half smile dropping while he tries to figure out if you’re messing with him or actually about to break his heart for fun.

You giggle to yourself, which makes him stir, because, of course, he’s here. Sprawled out on his stomach, face mashed into your pillow, wearing nothing but his grey sweatpants and a black hoodie.

His hair is a fluffy mess from his post practice nap, and one of his arms dangles off the bed like he fell asleep mid reaching for you. He always does that and it kills you every time.

You glance at him, still asleep, dead to the world. Good, you’ll need a few minutes to plan this properly.

The idea forms faster than you want to admit, you’ll film it like a casual “get ready with me.” He loves helping you pick outfits when you’re going out, partly because he likes pretending to care about fashion, but mostly because he just wants an excuse to touch you while you’re half dressed.

So, you’ll give him exactly that.

About an hour later, you’ve showered and picked out three outfit options, and set your phone on your dresser across from the big mirror. The phone’s propped up perfectly for you both.

Will’s still in bed when you peek in. He’s awake now, but barely. Blinking at you with sleepy eyes, cheeks flushed from the nap. He lifts his head when you step inside.

“Where’d you go?” His voice is scratchy, a little grumpy which makes you melt.

“Shower,” you say sweetly, walking over to brush his hair off his forehead. He chases your fingers like a puppy, nuzzling your palm before grabbing your wrist and tugging you down for a lazy kiss.

“You smell good,” he mumbles.

“You drooled on my pillow.”

“‘S your fault,” he defends, eyes already fluttering shut again. “Your bed’s too comfortable.”

You poke his shoulder. “Come help me pick an outfit.”

He cracks one eye open. “For what?”

You hum, feigning casual, “We’re going on a date.”

That perks him up instantly. He shifts onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. “We are?”

“Mhm.”

He tries to hide how excited that makes him, but you see it. He always lights up when you say ‘date.’ It doesn’t matter if it’s the fanciest restaurant in San Jose or a walk to the gas station at midnight for ice cream.

He pretends to grumble anyway, flopping back dramatically. “You’re making me get up?”

“Yes, you baby,” you tease, tugging at his hoodie. “Come on, Will. Up. You can watch me change.”

That gets him. He’s up in five seconds, hair sticking up in every direction. He kisses your cheek again before dragging himself to where your phone is set up.

Perfect. You start recording before he realizes.

“Hey guys,” you say sweetly, smiling at the camera as you smooth down your hair. In the phone camera, Will’s behind you, half awake, arms crossed, watching you with a dopey grin. “So, tonight me and my current boyfriend are going on a little date, and I thought he could help me decide what to wear.”

“Current what?” His voice cuts in, sharper than you expected. You almost lose it immediately, your shoulders shake, but you keep your smile locked in.

You pretend not to hear. “Anyway, I have three dresses I’m thinking about. One’s this cute black one—”

“Babe,” he interrupts again. He steps closer into frame, his reflection now clear over your shoulder. His brows are pinched, lips parted. “Did you just say current boyfriend?”

You tap your lip. “Hm?”

He leans in, squinting at the camera like he misheard. “Current boyfriend? What does that mean?”

You shrug, batting your lashes. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs, a soft, incredulous laugh. “You just said current. Why would you say that? Are you planning on trading me in or something?”

“Will—”

“No, no,” he says, stepping fully behind you now, arms circling your waist like he’s staking a claim. “Say it again.”

You glance at the camera lens. “Guys—”

“Nope,” he interrupts, burying his face in your neck for a second. You feel him smile against your skin, but when he pulls back his pout is dead serious. “Explain.”

You try to hold it together. “Well… you are my current boyfriend.”

His jaw drops, eyes wide. He looks like you just told him you were moving to the moon. “Current?”

“Yeah.”

“Like… temporary?”

You bite your lip, shoulders shaking. “I mean..”

“Oh, wow.” He looks directly at the camera now, eyes narrowed. “Are you hearing yourself?So, what, you’re gonna— what, go find a new Will? Upgrade?”

You snort. “Not another Will.”

His mouth falls open again. He shakes his head dramatically, hair flopping. “You’re joking, right?”

You can’t hold it in anymore. You double over laughing, pressing a hand to his chest to steady yourself as he tries to hide his wounded expression behind a fake scowl.

“It’s a prank, Will.” you wheeze out between giggles. “It’s a TikTok trend! Girls say ‘current boyfriend’ to see how their boyfriend reacts—”

“You’re filming me looking stupid?” He cuts in.

“You’re so dramatic—”

“Current,” he mocks, voice all high pitched now, arms squeezing you tighter against him. “Like I’m just a trial version.”

You wiggle, trying to break free. “Will—”

“No, come here.” He buries his face in your shoulder again, mumbling nonsense about “disrespect” and “betrayal” while you giggle helplessly.

[gibbearish]

i will say also one thing ive noticed with the cake smash debate is by and large (and esp in wedding situations), women tend to hate it and men tend to be the ones who think its turbo hilarious and the women are being big whiny babies and can't take a joke. just food for thought

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

MORE MEAN!RAFE PLEASE!!! Maybe leading from the last ask and it’s him being the desperate one and she’s just scared of him now but she still loves him or smth idk lols

even when you pushed me away

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — stalking

summary — rafe somehow finds you after you frantically ran away from home.

authors note — this is a continuation of my mean!rafe series. it is in my rafe cameron masterlist under “au’s” if you’d like it read it as a series instead of a standalone. thank you guys for all the love with this au, it means the world to me. please request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“why are you here, rafe?” you asked, your voice firm and unwavering even though you were slightly terrified and cowering behind your half-opened front door. “how did you even find me?”

he shook his head and brushed it off. “why am i here? because you just got up and left. no note? text? a call? nothing,” he explained calmly. “why? and where is all your stuff?” you bit your bottom lip nervously and stared at him. to your surprise, he looked genuinely confused. “did i do something?”

you almost laughed. did he do something? was he serious? “you should leave. i don’t want to talk to you,” you stated while beginning to close the door.

he lunged forward quickly and pushed back on it slightly, not enough for you to be scared that he was going to force his way in or anything like that, but just to keep you from shutting it in his face. “please, baby. i jus’ wanna talk to you. i want you to come home. i wanna know why you left in the first place.”

your resolve was beginning to slip. he was being so sweet and his eyes were all glassy like he was going to cry. “rafe, i don’t want to talk to you. i can’t,” you said a little more forcefully.

his bottom lip trembled slightly and he stared at you with wide eyes. “why not? what did i do wrong? if its about not spending enough time together, i promise i’ll change. i’ll clear my schedule for the rest of the week and we can spend every second of it together. jus’ please, come back home.”

“it’s not about that,” you replied. you wanted to leave with him so desperately. he sounded so torn and sad and it was beginning to make your heart break for him. “you’re not a good person. i can’t get mixed up with that.”

a tear slipped down his cheek as the realization set in. “baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered softly before talking a step closer to the door. you threatened to close it, narrowing the gap between you and him. that made him take a step back instantly. “please. jus’ come home and i’ll explain. i promise you. no lying, no bullshit. i’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

you felt your nose begin to sting and tears pool in your waterline. “i can’t, rafe.” you quickly shut the door and twisted the lock. a loud bang sounded on the door and you instinctively jumped back as you sobbed.

“open the fucking door!” he shouted angrily. you could hear his voice tremble before he began to repeatedly bang on the wood. “open the door!”

you slid down the wall and curled up into yourself, letting the tears call and the ugly cries escape your mouth. you’d never seen this side of him and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t terrify you to your core.

“baby, please! i’m begging you to open the door. i just want to talk to you,” he said, his voice slightly muffled through the barrier. “i need to talk to you. i need you to know that i’m not a bad person. please.”

you were pretty sure you were past that point now.

[yoiisa]

𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 #𝟑 ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

hurt/comfort, kaiser sucks but he's trying his best (my boy ( ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )づ♡ ), reader has a tough time, slight angst with fluff

thinking about how michael kaiser would comfort you after seeing you cry for the first time!! ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა

you genuinely don't know how it started, but somehow kaiser became your boyfriend, and you couldn't be happier about it, really. for all his bravado and ego, he did care about you in his own way. he made sure you had everything you could ever want and constantly messaged you, vying to be the center of your attention.

that being said, the two of you were still relatively early on in your relationship, and there were sides he hadn't fully seen yet . . . such as you crying.

the day started out rough, but as time went on, it only worsened. by the time you got home, you were so drained. you toe off your shoes and put them on the rack, before slumping back against the door. you slide down to the floor, before hugging your knees to your chest. you rest your head on your knees and sigh, finally having a chance to relax.

you stay like that for who knows how long, at one point falling asleep entirely. you wake up with a pain in your neck to your phone buzzing. its vibrations carry it across the floor away from you, and your heart stops when you see that it's kaiser.

you jump for it, scooping it up in your arm and hitting the green accept button.

"hello?"

"[name]! where the hell are you?! you were supposed to be here an half an hour ago!"

"f-for what?" you ask, your voice tiny.

"for what- seriously. this girl," he grumbles. "our date! did you seriously forget?"

"o-oh, right. I'm so sorry michael, i-i'll get ready now and head straight over-"

"don't bother, the mood's gone. if you didn't care enough to come on time, well then i don't care either. do what you want," and with that harsh statement, he hangs up.

you stare off into space, feeling your heart grow heavier in your chest. you look over at your phone to see the two other missed calls from kaiser and the messages asking where you were and if you were okay.

you can't help the tears from burning in your eyes, before they finally fall, racing down your face. it's not that you meant to forget, but you'd just been so tired and you were already so upset. now you've upset your boyfriend too.

you type out a i'm sorry and send it to him, before setting your phone on the kitchen island and walking to your bedroom. you collapse onto your bed cry yourself to sleep, not bothering to properly eat anything or change out of your clothes into something more comfortable.

when you wake, someone's shaking your shoulder. you glance over your shoulder and in your hazy state, can't tell if you're dreaming your boyfriend or not. kaiser is sitting on your bed, his eyes peering down at you with an expression you can't read.

you squeeze your eyes shut and turn back the other way, curling more into yourself. however, kaiser's hand on your shoulder tightens and he spins you onto your back. he leans over you, a hand on either side of your face. his eyebrows pinch together as he glances over your face. you must look horrible right now, and it's just making you feel worse.

"i'm sorry," you squeeze out. "i'm really sorry i forgot about our date. i'll make it up, i promise."

"shut up. have you been crying?" he asks, his voice tight. when you meet his cerulean eyes, your's sting again. your bottom lip trembles and kaiser's breath hitches. "why are you crying?"

"misha . . . " you sob. your arms go up and wrap around his neck, pulling him down to you. your tears wet the crook of his neck. "i had such a bad day. by the time i got home i just kinda collapsed on the floor and fell asleep. i didn't-"

kaiser shushes you. he turns onto his side and cradles your head in his hand, brushing your hand over his hair.

your stomach growls and he asks, "have you eaten anything?" when you shake your head, he sighs and pulls back. he wipes your tears and sighs. "i'll . . . i'll get you food. it'll only get worse on an empty stomach."

"but-"

he cups his hand over your mouth and presses his forehead against yours. "shut up. just . . . you had a hard time. it's fine. forget about the date. i'm over it."

his voice becomes strained as he stares into your teary eyes. he shakes his head before practically forcing out, "just don't cry, i . . . i can't stand it."

[punksyeet]

- I Hate You, I Love You ❥

Plot: “Will I ever be happy again?”

Warning: Mature language, toxicity, heartbreak, & angst!

a/n: for some reason, i’ve been super motivated to write jimmy lately. this doesn’t happen a lot, so i’m taking advantage of it while it lasts. this is sad and super short, but i promise there will be a much longer part two. this is kinda just the backstory….if that makes sense??? enjoy. 🤍

part two is here! <3

———————————————————————————————

May 29th, 2025.

Exactly a year ago today, I felt the most pain I’ve ever experienced in my life.

I got cheated on by the one man that I loved the most in this world: Jonathan Fatu.

You’d think that a guy at his big age would be loyal by the time your three year anniversary rolls around, but nope.

Just hours after he kissed me goodbye and drove off to do a house show here in Florida, I got a text.

And, as you can probably guess, it was a photo.

A photo of the man I loved making out with some weak, zero-pop having bitch from NXT.

When I tell you my heart shattered.

And when I confronted him about it? He turned into an entirely new person. Someone I’ve never met before. And sure as hell not the man I loved and gave my heart to.

Just bullshit lie after bullshit lie.

“What the fuck you goin’ on about?”

“Baby, that wasn’t me. You forgettin’ I have a twin?”

“Ion even know her like that.”

“I ain’t got time to be kissin’ on some damn NXT hoe.”

And when I called him out on said bullshit lies?

“Nah, you trippin’ girl.”

“You ain’t gotta believe me. Ion give a fuck.”

“I’m leavin’ this damn house. Fuck her and you.”

And he did.

He never came back.

Since the minute that door closed, I haven’t been the same.

No more weekend partying with my girlfriends, who haven’t reached out in months due to me never answering my phone.

No more wrestling shows, which I found a ton of joy in while watching my ex compete in and dominate the tag division with his brother Josh.

I haven’t even shown up to my job which, coincidentally, is a photographer for WWE that he got me.

To sum it up, life has been absolute hell since he walked out of my front door. Of our front door.

I’d never admit it to anyone, but my stupid ass misses him. A lot.

Behind the toxicity, there was love. Real, genuine love.

Surprise and “just because” dinner dates.

Flower bouquets being either sent or brought home to me every night because he “appreciated my support always”.

Late night discussions - both in person and over the phone - about getting married and growing old together.

Making love to me whenever he saw me after days of being apart. Not just sex. Making love.

And now? Nothing.

It feels like the world around me is just dull.

And without him it’ll never go back to normal.

———————————————————————————————

** Jon’s POV **

“Uce, you alright?” my twin Josh asks, fixing his hair with a spray bottle in the mirror of our locker room.

I let out a deep sigh, running a hand down my face and resting my elbows on my knees. “Yeah. I’m alright, man.”

“No you ain’t,” he replies, taking a seat next to me on our sofa. “You missin’ her again, huh?”

Why do I even bother lying to this fool?

He knows me better than anyone.

When I don’t answer, he continues.

“Why don’t you go see her after the show? Just one more time? One last time to try and make shit right?”

I chew on my bottom lip, thinking for a minute.

Today marks a year since the worst mistake of my life.

The day I betrayed my lady.

The one woman that cared about me and showed me genuine love in this entire fucked up world.

She was my everything. And I was hers.

Up until a couple months ago, when I finally read the room and realized she wanted nothing to do with me, I been acting a fool.

Endless texts, calls, random bouquets to her house, hell even emails.

Nothing.

And I don’t blame her.

Maybe Josh is right.

I need to try. Just one last time.

I nod, slowly. “I’ll try, uce.”

He claps me on the back and leaves our room, shutting the door behind him.

I let out a deep sigh before getting up and heading over to the mirror to get ready for our match.

———————————————————————————————

“Hey mom,” I say, placing my phone down against a candle on my kitchen island.

“Hey baby doll. How are you doing?”

I sigh, shrugging slightly. “I’m alive.”

She gives me an empathetic smile. “Damn right you are. And I’m proud of you, honey.”

When I show no reaction, she continues.

“I know this is a rough day for you, and this might not be what you want to hear…”

I take a deep breath, one that she can’t hear.

“But sweetie, you need to move on. If that man loved you, he would’ve never done what he did. And you know it.”

My nostrils flare and I blink back a singular tear.

“Honey?”

I shake my head, tucking my lips in.

I can’t have this talk with her. Not now. Not today.

“I have to go, mom.”

“Gia-“

The sound of a FaceTime call hanging up echoes throughout my kitchen.

And shortly after, I break down.

With all the force in the world, I swing at a glass filled with water and it flies across the room, eventually smashing against the refrigerator and to the floor.

Why the fuck did he have to hurt me this way?

I’ve only ever shown him love. What did I do to deserve this?

Back against the wall, I slide down and tuck my face into my knees.

Will I ever be happy again?

tag list: @uceyliyahh @christinabae @bebesobrielo @biancasreign @myamericannightmare @partypoison00 @li-da-savage @luvrsluxe @tribalchief2112 @isabella-2025 @chasssssworld @wrestlingprincess80 @amethyst09 @luvrgirl4roman @mamis-girly @skyesthebomb @mselenalovebug @moxley99 @wooahmiri @romanreignshairdresser @fearlesschimera @esposadomd @voidstiles18 @bloodlineslut @sharmelasworld @caralinda0914 @justazzi ♡

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[thehelltingvilleclub]

Helltingville Epilogues

Want some old men? have old men and the lonely rat bastard Captain Dickey.

From left to right:

Jerry - Mandi - Cherri (Left) - William "Buck" Titus (Right) - Bill - May - Pete - Jane - Amari (Matt's younger sister) - Josh - Matt

dude this took me too long

but man do I love all of em

Jerry and Mandi don't end up together permanently-- but they do have their kids together. I genuinely imagine Jerry ends up like Scout TF2 style as a single dad to like 4 kids but he loves them all equally and gives them all the attention he can.

And when he can't handle them all, he'll just drag Bill over and make him deal with them.

Yes, in Helltingville the gang stick together.. kind of. Like old friends that happen to live nearby-- they meet up occasionally, they keep tabs on each other online, they might even have a christmas party together, but they definitely are not hanging out regularly like they did as kids.

Jerry and May's anxiety can't take it, Josh's heart can't take it, and Bill can't take the guilt of knowing that, so its sparingly, but they'll keep in touch.

During the heavy confrontation after Comicon and after, Bill kinda.. hit rock bottom? Like if he hit rock bottom as a teenager then he hit the bottom of satan's fucking boot. Getting reemed out by Matt, disgusting looks from everyone and even his sister, seeing everyone so happy without him--

he struggles with that, and he hates it. He gets so unbelievably angry with himself for being both equally stupid and selfish. He shouldn't be upset about this! They're just stupid fake fans that don't understand him, right? then why the hell is he three bottles in and he still feels like shit?

Jerry and May keep tabs on Bill the most, checking on him and forcing him into therapy. Jerry uses him as a free babysitter, May enjoys the company when she isn't on set with Pete, and Bill isn't passed out drunk in his mom's basement.

Jane and Amari were enemies in high school, they actually hated each others GUTS. Amari was captain of the cheerleading team and Jane had her punk girl gang. And yet, in college, they managed to get together and put aside their differences. (Plus, Amari has the same infatuation problem as Matt... and her type is scrawny women that could stab a bitch, apparently).

Matt does develop a bit.. of an alcohol issue. He's so stressed from work, worried about Josh and his health, BILL being ALIVE, Bill being NEAR HIM, Bill staring at his SISTER bro his liver is crying.

Josh.. kind of knows. He can tell that Matt drinks at dinner and maybe a sip or two before bed, but He doesn't want to step out of line and make Matt upset. The last thing he wants is to upset his fiance and get yelled at again for being useless. He doesn't need to go down memory lane.

Cherri develops a vocal stim similar to Jerry, and struggles to talk otherwise and is usually hiding behind him whenever they aren't in their room. Buck, on the other hand, will not stop asking questions or shut the fuck up. this kid has enough energy to power the sun and his brain never turns off. Sorry Bill, you're gonna have to explain the entire Star Trek lore because you mentioned Star Logs and did the Vulcan Salute and now he demands to know what that is.

May works with Pete on occasion, mostly on a commission basis from Butchie. She helps make props and walks new actresses through the ropes and makes sure they're safe on set. Pete is just happy his woman's with him and you BET he brags "guys look at my girlfriend god I love her--"

And yes, they're looking to name their kiddo Sidney, but it's still a toss up. Bill says the name sounds dumb but won't help May pick any new ones to add to the list, so his opinion can get stuck in a meatgrinder.

Guys i have too much to say about them.

[bimkayd]

chapter 2: the closed door | QUEEN SIZED MATTRESS – YU JIMIN.

a closed door, a door locked shut, another door; slightly ajar.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — following the events of where do you sleep, y/n and karina find themselves at the center of a dating scandal. with the reputations of the pair at stake, their once private life crumbling apart under the weight of their companies–how will they get through this? no contact, a line that echoes through the both of their heads constantly. no contact, no missed calls, no good morning texts, no short glances at events, no freedom.

⚠️DISCLAIMER: THIS STORY TAKES PLACE AFTER THE STORY OF WHERE DO YOU SLEEP. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. ⚠️

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — angst. genuinely I need to start writing more than just angst smut! smut! we all chant even though I don't know how to write smut

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 2,336

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 — Y'ALL I HAVE CLASS IN LIKE 50 MINUTES THIS IS WHY YOU DONT PROCRASTINATE YOUR CHAPTERS IM SO SORRY ANYWAYS. umm hey!!! i obviously love my fans and put tons of time and care into each and every story (#notproofread) (#illfixitlater) (#dontwaittillthelastminute)

the time gaps are a little disorienting because I lined up korea time zones with la time zones so umm... if it looks a little weird thats why

I PROMISE ILL START MAKING CHAPTERS LONGER ITS JUST AGHH. yall I talk too much, i also snuck in a lesserafim quote at the bottom but the delivery was kinda eh

shout out to @bytemee for being the building blocks for me to plagiarize inspiration/original writer of where do you sleep!!!

taglist (open) — @runawaymazola @prologue-ae @bytemee @yuyuy90 @zindoriyo

wdys masterlist. qsm masterlist. previous. next.

she stared at the text bubble on her screen long after it had already been sent.

“delivered.”

that’s all it said. no read receipts, no typing dots, no reply.

the second it sent, her thumb hovered, almost reflexively over the message, as if she could pull it back in time. take it back, edit it . add context. add something–anything–to make it sound less… pathetic?

but it was already gone. floating in a digital purgatory, waiting to be seen. or worse, ignored.

her stomach churned

she’d spent the last hour drifting around the dorm like a ghost. the silence was starting to get to her. her team had given her the day off–pr called it a “cooling period.” more executives telling her to lay low. stylists cancelled fittings, and her group chat with the girls had gone quiet, except for ning’s half-hearted meme from last night that no one responded to.

it wasn’t that they didn’t care about her. it was that they knew, and even they didn’t know what to say.

neither did she

she had hovered over y/n’s contact for minutes by now, her thumb trembling with the weight of the immense guilt, the whispers, the headlines, the weight of the guilt pulling her thumb down across the keyboard–she typed so many versions of that message.

“i’m sorry i missed your birthday.” “i didn’t know what to say.” “i wanted to call but i couldn’t” “i messed up.” “i love you.” every version felt like a lie or a little too late.

so she’d sent the only truth that had survived the night. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what to do.”

and that was the truth, wasn’t it? she didn’t know.

not how to fix it. not how to undo what was already unraveled. she didn’t know how to be karina, the idol, and jimin, the girl who was head over heels for y/n, all at once anymore.

so she stood there. in the middle of the dorm’s living room. curtains still drawn. phone still warm in her hand.

the room had felt too still, as if it had been paused..

everything about her life felt like it’d been paused except time.

she sat back down on the couch, legs curled under her, hoodie bunched up to her chin, fingers clenched around her phone.

y/n wasn’t going to respond. she knew it.

the rational parts of her brain told her it was because y/n’s phone was off. the insecure part told her that it was because she didn’t deserve to get a response.

she was the one who disappeared. the one who let the company speak for her. the one who hid behind the quiet of her company because it was just so much easier than facing the fire.

and maybe that’s what hurt the most. that she had let y/n burn alone.

time passed in slow motion. the kind of time that drips instead of ticks. each second felt like a drop of guilt that soaked into her skin and refused to dry

so when the screen lit up again–

she almost dropped the phone.

6:53 pm y/n: then tell me what you want

her chest collapsed

not from panic. not from anger. but from the sheer weight of its ache.

those six words. they felt sharper than any headline. heavier than any silence

they weren’t accusatory. they weren’t kind, either. they were just… bare. raw. honest.

tell me what you want.

she reread that message maybe five, ten, twenty times, until it was all that occupied her mind.

what did she want? she wanted y/n she wanted to turn back the clock she wanted to walk out of that damn restaurant and say, “no you’re right y/n, we can enjoy the night in your apartment too.” she wanted to show up with flowers and cake and maybe that stupid hat y/n always teased her about.

she wanted to not be afraid.

she brought her knees to her chest, forehead resting against them as her hands trembled.

she typed slowly, carefully, and deleted twice.

then finally:

6:59 am jimin: i want you. i want to do this the right way this time. i don’t care about the contracts. i don’t care about the backlash. just tell me i didn’t lose you for good.

she hit send.

and this time, she didn’t look away.

y/n – 3:00 pm

the vibration startled her. she almost didn’t check.

her phone had been a graveyard all day–outside from the occasional buzzes from instagram, emails that were slowly piling up, and one unread message from… karina. jimin. y/n had stopped thinking of her as karina from the moment that everything fell apart.

now, it was jimin again. like the girl she met in the hallways of the sm building by accident, not the face on a billboard. and that made her so much harder to forget.

she stared at the new notification. jimin: i want you. i want to do this the right way this time. i don’t care about the contracts. i don’t care about the backlash. just tell me i didn’t lose you for good.

her thumb hovered, heart a skipping stone caught midair. there it was.

the thing she had begged for countless times in her head. the confession, the promise. the promise that she needed to hear long ago.

y/n laid her head back against her headboard, her knees curled, her mind spiraling out of control.

she didn’t know how to feel. not really. not when the girl she loved was finally saying all the things she should’ve said before it shattered.

her response should’ve felt like relief should’ve given y/n the closure that she needed. yet it didn’t. it felt like pressure. like the moment before the waves crash–right when your lungs fill with salt and you have no idea if this is the moment you’ll drown, or be carried to shore.

she exhaled sharply. her fingers dragged across the sheets, restless. closure wasn’t supposed to hurt this much.

where had this been weeks ago? when she was at the dinner table with her family, holding back tears and blowing out a candle. when every headline twisted her into some lovesick maniac; maybe she was. when jimin’s silence spoke louder than words ever could: “i can’t choose you”

because now, the last thing she wanted was an apology. she wanted proof.

proof that she meant every word of what she said, proof that the jimin she’d fallen in love with came to her senses, proof that she’d choose y/n over her career.

and yet she wasn’t sure if she was ready to believe her again. not yet. but still– she typed. backspace. typed again deleted everything. started over.

3:06 pm y/n: you’re saying the right things, the things that i wanted to hear now. but i needed you when it was quiet. when no one was watching. i needed you to choose me then.

she hit send no humor, no emojis just the truth.

and this time, she didn’t cry

not yet.

the silence that followed was restless it pressed around her like a tide–thick, heavy, and still.

she set her phone face-down back onto her nightstand. the soft click of the glass on wood echoed too loud in her ears.

it was too quiet now. too still.

and suddenly, she was back there. not physically–but in the way memories sneak up on you when you least expect them. when your heart is cracked just wide enough for them to sneak in unnoticed.

the smell of citrus and champagne. the low thump of bass through the floor. glitter all over the walls, and something in her chest.

y/n’s pov

it had been one of those nights–loud, glittering, and suffocating.

the afterparty was held in a penthouse that looked like it was designed to be photographed more than lived in. seoul’s skyline poured in through the glass walls, city lights flickering like paparazzi. everything smelled like champagne, stress, and expensive cologne. everyone smiled with perfect teeth and said things they didn’t mean.

y/n hadn’t even wanted to be there but jimin was.

and that was more than enough of a reason.

she’d arrived late, dressed down compared to the squined crowd, her anxiety masked by her choreographed expressions. y/n wasn’t part of this world. not really. but she’d carved out a corner of her world where jimin could find her–if she ever wanted to.

but jimin hadn’t even glanced in her direction when she walked in.

from the moment she stepped in, she was surrounded by people–stylists, managers, a few idols y/n vaguely recognized. her laughter was polite. her smile didn’t reach her eyes. and her gaze never drifted to where y/n stood, clutching a drink she wasn’t sipping, pretending that she didn’t notice.

it had been weeks since that night during the mama awards and jimin was pretending like nothing had happened.

that was the moment y/n realized she might be the only one still pretending that there was something left

she caught her in the hallway, between conversations, between pretending.

“can we talk?” y/n asked, her voice low, yet desperate.

jimin blinked, caught off guard. “now?”

“when else?” her tone wasn’t sharp, but it wasn’t soft either. just tired. just human

they stepped into a corridor away from the main lunge-still within the ears-distance of the crowd, yet at the same time, miles away from it. the low punch of music and laughter carried throughout the building like white noise.

jimin crossed her arms, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at her. “this really isn’t the place y/n.”

“it never is,” y/n muttered.

and that's maybe what did it. maybe that was the moment she realized that she was clinging to scraps that were long expired.

the way her voice cracked a little too close to the surface. the way she didn’t mask her disappointment anymore. the way jimin looked at her, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t risk the wrong person hearing.

“you don’t get to disappear and then play it safe in front of people,” y/n whispered. “i’m not asking for a grand gesture from you. i’m just–just asking for you to see me.”

“i do see you,” jimin replied, frustration threading into her whisper, “but there are people everywhere, y/n. do you know what happens if the wrong person hears–?”

“then let them,” y/n interrupted, “i’m tired of being your secret.”

that was the first time the silence between them had felt permanent.

not a pause. not a breath permanent.

jimin looked at her with a kind of helplessness that y/n didn’t know what to do within. it was like she wanted to reach out and couldn’t. like the air between them had turned electric, heavy, and untouchable.

then someone from the party called jimin’s name.

she flinched, “i have to go.”

of course she did.

y/n stepped back, chewing on the insides of her cheek as she gave a small, bitter nod. “yeah. you always do.”

and that was it.

the last time she’d seen her in person.

the moment that memory faded, she was back in her apartment, in the now, the silence still ringing in her ears.

her phone buzzed. she glanced down.

7:12 am karina’s pov

she sat still, fingers curled around the phone like it might break if she held it any tighter.

the text sat there on her screen, unblinking. unapologetic “i needed you to choose me then.”

and as she always did, karina didn’t know what to say to that. not because she thought it was a lie. but because she really didn’t.

because she remembered the afterparty she remember the way y/n looked at her–like maybe she still hoped, and how karina looked away first.

she thought that the silence would protect both of them. but now she knew: silence had done the damage.

karina reread y/n’s message again,

“you’re saying the right things, the things that i wanted to hear now. but i needed you when it was quiet. when no one was watching. i needed you to choose me then.”

each word landed like a jab, the weight of the truth bruising into her sides.

her mind spun back to that hallway, the echoes of the bass vibrating along the walls, and y/n standing there–eyes wide and heartbroken. jimin could still clearly picture the way her lips trembled when she whispered, “i’m tired of being your secret,” the way her pupils dilated, holding back her tears, the way her breath hitched like the truth had broken its way into her lungs. her lashes were wet, but not a single tear dared to fall–as if letting one escape would be admitting that it hurt.

and karina had crushed it with a look, a pause, and a step backward.

now, she sat with the thoughts of every unsaid thing choking her. her phone buzzed again in her hand–not a message this time, just a low battery warning. fitting, she thought; she felt drained too.

there was a time she would’ve ran straight to the airport, ran straight to y/n’s apartment in the middle of the night with a bouquet of flowers and a messy, yet emotional apology. the difference now was: she wasn’t sure if that door would still be open.

still, she typed. not impulsively, not with desperation–but with a stillness that comes only after you’ve finally started telling the truth.

7:19 am jimin:

i didn’t choose you then. not because i didn’t want to. but because i was scared. of what people would say. of what i’d lose but i lost you anyway and that’s on me

so this time, i won’t say anything else. not until i can show you. if there’s still a chance–i’ll prove it. i’ll show up. in the quiet. even if no one’s watching.

even if the door that we once shared is closed; locked shut. i’ll find that backdoor, the door that’s just slightly ajar. and open them all.

[thepinkpanther83]

Hiya, I’ve come w a request lol I’m sucker for bully eddie. Lol like he and reader are in college or work w each other and he’s constantly just being a menace and she thinks he genuinely hates her but he’s flirting w her lol maybe he sees some guy trying to chat her up and he finally tells her he does like her and smut

Mean Streak

One-Shot Request: “Mean Streak”

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

💌 Author’s Note: To my dearest Anony, Thank you from the bottom of my heart for trusting me with this idea. The moment I read your request, I felt it- every teasing smirk, every loaded silence, every glance that says more than it should. You planted the perfect seed for something chaotic, sharp, and surprisingly tender… and I had way too much fun making it grow.

This story quickly became a small passion project, and it wouldn’t exist without your nudge. Whether you’re new here or a longtime lurker, know that you’ve inspired something special, and I hope it makes you smile, gasp, and maybe even groan (in all the right ways). Thank you for being brave enough to ask!

To everyone else: if you’ve ever thought someone hated you when they were actually just obsessed with you… this one’s for you, too. 💋 ~Pinkie 🍒

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

Summary: You’re convinced Eddie Munson hates your guts. He’s loud, smug, always in your space, throwing jabs and cracking jokes that leave you flushed for all the wrong reasons. Or so you think. But when jealousy sparks, tensions ignite, and feelings start slipping through the cracks… You might have to admit that hate and heat aren’t so different after all. Enemies? Rivals? Or just two idiots flirting badly? One thing’s for certain: things are about to get messy.

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

“Mean Streak”

You’re halfway through highlighting an entire paragraph when your marker vanishes.

Literally- gone. One blink and it’s disappeared from your fingers, right as you're about to underline the one godforsaken sentence that actually made sense in this sea of academic jargon.

You turn. You already know.

Eddie Munson is standing there. Smirking. Holding your highlighter like it personally offended him.

“Do you mind?” you ask, reaching for it.

He lifts it out of reach, eyes twinkling. “Just doing my civic duty, Princess. You highlight everything. At some point, the words lose all meaning.”

You blink at him. “Are you stalking my notes?”

“I’m saving your GPA.”

You grit your teeth and go for it again, but he pivots easily, keeping it just out of reach with his absurd wingspan. You consider lunging. Maybe throwing your iced coffee in his face. Or yourself, just to knock him down. But then his eyes flick to your notebook again, the smirk morphing into something a little darker. “Also… your handwriting? Offensively cute. Are those little hearts on your i’s?”

Heat crawls up your neck. You slam the notebook shut.

“Do you need something, Munson, or are you just here to be annoying on purpose?”

He leans a forearm on the study table, close enough that you can smell him- leather jacket, cheap cologne, and some vague cinnamon warmth like a damn Red Hot. The nerve of him.

His voice drops just enough to make you hate your heartbeat. “I dunno. Do you like being annoyed?”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

He grins again, all teeth and mischief, and then- boop, taps your nose with the stolen highlighter before setting it down in front of you like a gift.

Then he walks away.

You stare after him, your mouth open, a single bold phrase looping in your head like a cursed mantra: What. The. Hell.

This has been your week. Your month. Your semester.

Eddie Munson has made a game out of ruining your peace. He steals your pens. He critiques your music. He once swapped the keyboard on your computer to Dvorak and grinned when you found out.

And he always- always, calls you things like Honor Student and Princess, said with the kind of condescending tone that feels two steps from a hate crime.

You hate him.

...You think.

You just wanted peanut M&M’s.

That’s all it was. That’s all you were trying to do. Five minutes to breathe between back-to-back lectures, a vending machine on its last mechanical legs humming like it’s preparing for death, and you- tired, over-caffeinated, toeing the line between a B+ and a nervous breakdown.

And then, of course- Eddie Munson, again.

You catch the whiff of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke just before his voice slinks in beside you.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Honor Student herself. Treating yourself today?”

He’s right beside you. Close enough that you can feel the heat from him. He’s leaned on the vending machine like he owns it, like it’s just another extension of his usual bullshit territory, and you already feel your pulse stuttering from sheer proximity.

You sigh. “Can I help you with something, Munson?”

He tilts his head and eyes your snack choice like it personally offends him. “M&M’s? Wow. Real rebellious.”

You press the buttons harder than you need to. “Not everything’s a personality contest.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says, eyes skimming you from head to toe. There’s a curl to his lip. Mean. Appreciative. Annoyingly unreadable. "You wear those leggings on purpose, or do you just like making campus a dangerous place for the rest of us?"

You feel heat crawl up your neck. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying-” he lifts both hands like he’s innocent, which is a goddamn lie, “-those pants are against the dress code. And basic decency. If I walk into traffic, it’s your fault.”

You scowl, snatching your M&M’s when they finally clatter into the tray. “You’re so weird.”

“And yet, here we are. You. Me. One sad vending machine. Fate’s got jokes.”

You spin on your heel and storm off without another word, but he follows. Of course he does.

Because Eddie Munson isn’t done until he’s thoroughly gotten under your skin, and this? This is his favorite game.

“Hey, Princess,” he calls after you, all mock-affection. “You dropped something!”

You glance back- and realize too late he’s holding up a pink mechanical pencil. Yours. Your favorite. From your pencil pouch.

Which means-

“You absolute thief-”

His grin is infuriating. “Guess you’ll have to say please.”

God help you.

You’re going to kill him. Or kiss him. You haven’t decided which yet.

“You think you’re so clever,” you mutter, stomping toward him, palm out.

“I know I am.” He wiggles the pencil just out of reach. “Say the magic word.”

“I will throw you down a stairwell.”

“Oh, Princess,” he coos, “don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You lunge. He steps back. It becomes a weird little hallway dance- your hand swiping, his hips dodging, until you nearly crash into a bulletin board. He finally lets you snatch it back, but not before dragging his fingers down your wrist in a lingering, teasing glide.

You ignore the shiver that snakes down your spine. Or try to.

He grins like he knows.

“Ever consider therapy?” you snap.

“Ever consider dating someone who doesn’t bore you to death?” he fires back, and somehow, somehow, that flusters you more than anything else he’s said all day.

You hate that your heart’s pounding. You hate that it feels like he’s flirting. You really hate that you don’t know for sure.

“Oh my god,” you say, exasperated, “do you treat everyone like this?”

“Nah,” Eddie says, slouching against the wall, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his ripped jeans. “Just you.”

That... actually stuns you. Just a little.

He sees it. Smirks. Doubles down.

“Guess I’ve got a mean streak for good girls.”

You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.

Because that?

That sounded an awful lot like a confession.

Later that night, at a campus party…

It’s already too hot inside, and someone’s aux cord privileges should’ve been revoked three songs ago. There’s no real theme, just sticky floors, half-assed fairy lights, and a keg cup that you’re pretty sure tastes like floor cleaner.

You spot Eddie across the room before he sees you. He's in his usual uniform: ripped jeans, black band tee, a red and black flannel tied low around his waist, all devil-may-care smirk and feral curls. He’s laughing at something a guy says, but he barely looks engaged- until he notices you with a double-take.

Then he lights up like it’s his birthday.

“Honor Student,” he purrs, suddenly beside you like he teleported. “Didn’t expect to see you at a den of sin like this.”

You raise a brow. “Didn’t expect you to look like you’ve showered recently.”

“Ouch,” he says, a hand over his heart. “Why so cruel?”

“Why so here?”

“Maybe I was hoping to run into you.”

You snort. “Sure you were.”

He leans closer, voice dipped in that rough, teasing edge. “You always wear leggings to parties too, or did I just get lucky?”

You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts, but the heat in your face betrays you. And Eddie- being Eddie, notices.

“Careful,” he says, mouth brushing your ear with the next words. “You’re gonna make a guy think you like being teased.”

You elbow him. He laughs. Loud. Unapologetic.

And when some overly confident frat guy stumbles over to talk to you a few minutes later, Eddie doesn’t leave.

He looms.

Not subtle. Not polite. Definitely not quiet.

The guy’s name was something like Trevor or Travis- someone with a rich-kid watch and too much cologne. He’s nice enough. Smiles at you like you’re the only girl in the room. Asks what you’re studying. Laughs when you make a joke.

But Eddie doesn’t laugh. Eddie stands there, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes flicking between you and Fratboy like he’s calculating the most efficient way to bury a body.

“Hey, bro,” Eddie says, voice as fake-sweet as poison. “You lost or something?”

Travis blinks. “Sorry- do you two know each other?”

Eddie grins, wide and sharp. “Oh yeah. She’s my favorite honor student.”

You shoot him a warning look. “Eddie-”

He doesn’t take the hint.

“She tutors me,” he says, smirking now. “Real smart. Good with her hands.” He says suggestively.

Your mouth drops open. Travis looks between you both, visibly weirded out.

“I… uh- I’m gonna go get a drink,” he says and quickly bails.

You round on Eddie, fuming. “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Didn’t like how he was looking at you.”

“And you care why?”

You expect more snark, some bullshit comebacks- but what you get instead is him blinking, caught off guard by the question.

He hesitates. Just long enough.

Then his voice drops, rough and low, barely audible over the music.

“‘Cause I saw you first.”

Your stomach flips. Your breath catches.

And for once- you don’t have a comeback.

​​You blink at him. Once. Twice.

The music warps around you, thudding louder somehow, but it’s all white noise now. You’re too focused on the smug tilt of his mouth, the flicker of something not smug in his eyes.

“Do you even hear yourself?” you say, laughless. “You treat me like crap every time we talk and now suddenly you’re- what? Jealous?”

Eddie’s expression shifts. Barely. But enough.

“You’re always messing with me, Munson. Always.” Your voice rises before you can stop it. “If you hate me so much, why do you even bother?”

His mouth parts. Nothing comes out.

You shake your head, heat prickling at your cheeks. “Seriously- why do you care who I talk to or what I wear or what I’m doing if I’m just some joke to you?”

A moment of silence passes.

And then- quiet. Uncharacteristically raw.

“Hate you?”

It’s not mocking. It’s not amused.

He huffs a breath, rubs the back of his neck like he’s trying to physically scrape the tension off himself.

“Sweetheart,” he says, and for once, there’s no irony in it. “I’ve been flirting with you since the first day you wore those fucking strawberry earrings.”

You freeze.

“What?” you ask, but it’s barely a whisper.

He looks pained- like the words hurt on the way out. “Yeah. Those stupid earrings. The ones with the little green leaves. You sat next to me in Lit 203 and kept twirling them while you took notes. I couldn’t focus on a damn thing.”

He shrugs, half-defeated, half-defensive. “So I started being an asshole. Because it was easier than- y’know. Admitting I kinda wanted to lick fruit-scented lip gloss off your lips.”

You stare at him, breath caught somewhere between your ribs, and disbelief.

Eddie looks back. Waiting. Bracing.

Like he just handed you a knife and isn’t sure whether you’ll cut him open or carve your initials next to his.

You blink again. “You’ve been flirting with me?”

“Yeah.” His voice is rougher now, almost sheepish. “Terribly. Obviously.”

You both stare at each other. The party noise around you fades into meaningless static. Adrenaline and confusion melt into something warmer. Sharper.

“You could’ve just asked me out,” you breathe.

He licks his lips. Nervous. “Yeah? Would you have said yes?”

“Maybe.”

He steps closer. Inches away now. “Let’s find out.”

He tugs your hand without asking, threading your fingers through his like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like you haven’t spent months bickering.

The night air hits your face the second you’re outside- cool and biting, like a slap that wakes you all the way up. Or maybe it’s just the way Eddie looks back at you as he leads you toward the lot where his van is parked, curls wild in the wind, lips parted like he’s one second from losing every ounce of his self-control.

When you reach the passenger door, he fumbles for his keys, but you’re already grabbing his face, dragging his mouth to yours like something in you has finally snapped. The kiss is clumsy and urgent, hot with months of pent-up want.

He groans into your mouth, low and wrecked.

“Shit,” he mutters, fumbling the door open behind you. “Get in. Please. Before I do something very illegal out here.”

The second the van door slams shut, you’re on him again- hands gripping his shirt, teeth dragging across his bottom lip like you’re trying to bite the words right off his tongue. He’s stunned for a half second, breathless, eyes wide- and then he’s kissing you back with all the pent-up tension of a guy who’s been dreaming about this exact moment and never thought it’d actually happen.

You push him back against the seat, climbing into his lap, the worn leather creaking beneath you. The kiss deepens, filthier now, tongues tangling, your hips rolling just enough to make him gasp into your mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, his hands skating up your thighs, greedy and reverent. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smirk against his lips. “Don’t be dramatic.”

His eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

But you do.

You do- because you feel him, hard and twitching beneath you, and it sends a dark thrill straight through you. And maybe it’s that thrill that makes you shift off his lap, dropping to your knees on the floor of the van, palms braced on his thighs.

Eddie blinks down at you like he just got smacked in the face with a dream he’s too scared to believe.

“Wait, are you-”

You reach for his belt.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, head thunking back against the seat, hands scrabbling to help you, or maybe just worship you. “You don’t have to- fuck… you really don’t have to.”

You look up at him, pupils dark and wild. “Let me.”

His mouth falls open. No witty comeback. No smartass reply.

Just stunned silence and the sound of his zipper lowering.

You free him from his jeans and- god… he’s thick, flushed, and already leaking at the tip. You wrap your hand around him and begin to stroke, and he whines, hips jolting like he’s got no control left in his body.

“Fuck, baby, slow down-” he pants, eyes glued to you, like he can’t believe you’re actually on your knees for him. “I’m gonna- shit, I’m not gonna last if you look at me like that.”

You drag your tongue up the underside of his cock, slow and teasing, watching him twitch in your hand. His thighs are trembling already. You hollow your cheeks and take him in, inch by inch, until his hand flies to the back of your head- not to push, necessarily, just to hold.

Just to anchor.

“Holy shit,” he chokes out, jaw slack, lips parted in some desperate, reverent daze. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

You hum around him, and he bucks his hips with a broken groan, knuckles white where he grips the seat, like he’s trying not to lose his mind entirely.

“S-sweetheart, you gotta-” His voice cracks. He’s panting now, thighs shaking beneath your hands. “You gotta stop. Or I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re never gonna get rid of me.”

You pull off with a wet pop, licking your lips slowly, just to see the way he shudders.

“Who said I wanted to get rid of you?”

Eddie stares down at you like you just shot him through the heart in the best possible way.

“Marry me,” he says immediately. “I’m serious. We can drop out right now and live in this van.”

You laugh, breathless, and he reaches for you- pulling you back into his lap, wrapping both arms around you like he never wants to let go. His mouth is on your neck, your jaw, your shoulder, desperate little kisses between heavy pants.

“You’re gonna let me return the favor, right?” he growls, voice rough and dark with promise.

You blink. “Eventually.”

He groans again. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

You grin. “That’s the idea.”

You’re straddling him over the bench seat like instinct took the wheel. He’s gripping your hips like they’re the only thing tethering him to the planet, mouth hot and hungry against yours. His rings are cool on your skin when they slide beneath your shirt.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters, tilting his head back as you grind against him. “I’m gonna wreck you.”

You bite his lower lip, pulling it with your teeth. “That the goal?”

He growls- growls, and pulls you in harder.

Clothes disappear in chaotic bursts. His hands never stop moving. Neither do yours. There’s laughter and cursing and soft, reverent swearing when he finally gets you bare over him.

When you sink down onto him, it’s slow- torturously slow, until you’re fully seated in his lap and both of you are gasping like you’ve run miles.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie pants, his head thumping back against the seat. “You feel- fuck, baby. I’m not gonna last long if you keep clenching like that.”

You roll your hips, moaning as you do, and his hands tighten at your waist.

“You’ve been teasing me for months,” you say, voice breathless but wicked. “You can take it.”

He grins- wrecked and adoring and so goddamn filthy. “Ride me, princess. Show me how bad you really are.”

And you do.

Hard. Slow. Grinding and bouncing and losing your mind with every slick slide of your bodies.

Eddie’s loud, filthy with praise and curses, his hands everywhere- your ass, your back, your thighs. He meets every thrust with an upward snap of his hips like he’s desperate to stay buried as deep as possible.

When you both finally shatter, it’s loud. Unapologetic. Like every repressed bit of tension finally lets go all at once.

You collapse against him, both of you shaking, panting, holding each other like you’ve got no plans of moving any time soon.

Eddie kisses the side of your face, then your jaw, then your lips again.

"That Travis guy? Late to the party. I’ve been front row since day one," he smirks.

And you laugh, even as your heart races. “Shut up, Munson.”

But despite his cocky bravado, you kiss him again anyway.

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! @justalotoffanfiction, @yorshie, @jackalope-in-a-storm, @v1per1ne, @daveythorntonslocker, @cokepowder55, @kelsiegrin, @ash-stardust, @meankenna, @kellsck

Masterlist

[chrisgirly4l]

Fantasies

dom C.S x sub reader

summary- Chris finds out about your sexual fantasies with him in your journal.

Word count- 1033

a/n- This is my first fanfic I've ever written so I'm sorry if it isn't good I tried lol.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"y/n, for this project you will be partners with Christopher" your English teacher says with a smirk on her face, almost like she did this on purpose. Putting the quiet girl with the most popular guy in school.

Chris looks at you from across the classroom as his friends laugh and make fun of him for getting a "bad" partner.

After everyone gets assigned their person he walks over to you, pushing the nearest empty desk beside yours. You look down at your lap and fidget with your hands trying to avoid eye contact.

"hey, so I guess we're partners..." Chris says awkwardly. "yeah, I guess we are." you mutter quietly. The silence between you two lingers uncomfortably, though the rest of the class is conversing at full volume.

Chris finally decides to break the silence by saying "do you know what we're supposed to do, I wasn't really listening." You roll your eyes and reply sarcastically "clearly. All we have to do is make a slideshow about the book we read, you did read the book right?" He looks at you with a lopsided smile and sheepishly says "I was kinda hoping you did.." After exchanging numbers and summarizing the book for him class was over, finally.

If you didn't think so before it was now confirmed that this was going to be a shit show. A total complete shit show.

Later that night as you laid down to go to sleep, you couldn't help but think about Chris. The way he ran his fingers through his hair, his kind, genuine voice, and his blue eyes that almost seem to twinkle when he smiles. You start to overthink the situation, Do I have a crush on him? Does he have a crush on me? No, it isn't possible there's no way i'm falling for a guy I've only talked to once!

Since your thoughts were barring you from sleep, you decided to do what always helps you relax, journaling. Though it may seem like a stupid hobby, you've done it for as long as you can remember. It's never failed you and you know it won't fail you now.

You lay stomach down, pen in hand on your bed and begin to write, after what feels like a short period of time you check your phone and you've been writing for close to an hour! When you go to read back the many pages, you realize what was supposed to help convince you why having a crush on king of the cafeteria was not a good idea, was really just you spilling all of your most sexual fantasies you've imagined with him.

Walking into English the next day you pull out the same journal to write down all your homework you have to do tonight. Chris takes a seat next you, your shoulders brushing slightly, but the touch enough to make your heart skip a beat. While your distracted your journal falls off your desk, on the floor directly beside him, the pages flipping one back onto your entry from last night! You quickly reach to pick it up, but he already has is and has started scanning the page. "woah! who's this about, I guess your not so innocent after all." he says with a smirk clearly trying to tease you. "shut up Chris, just give it back!" but it's too late by the time you get your sentence out, he read his name at the bottom.

You stare at him anxiously waiting for his reaction, but instead he puts the notebook down and walks out of the classroom silently. You cover your face with your hands, utterly embarrassed when your phone dings, It's from Chris "Bathroom, now" You gawk at the screen, not even able to believe what your reading. Nevertheless you get up and walk to the bathroom.

Hesitantly, you push open the restroom door, and scan the room. You don't see him or anyone else, for that matter. You walk down the line of stalls till you're swiftly pulled into the handicap one at the end of the line. Without delay he immediately holds you against the wall, his knee in between your legs and his lips planted on yours.

You pause before relaxing into the kiss, your body pressed against his and your hands sliding into his hair. He slips his tongue into your mouth gently, gaining intensity gradually. Your body heats up as the realization hits you that your making out with the Christopher Sturniolo, one of the most sought after guys at school!

While deep in thought Chris whispers in a gravelly tone "Wanna make those fantasies come true?" Your face turns bright red as you slowly nod before his lips come down to your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin, leaving dark bruises, and causing you to whimper faintly. Steadily, he slides his hand under the waistband of your pants, leisurely rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb. You look into his eyes, your moans pleading for more. He quickens his motions and palms your ass, your whines only getting louder.

Suddenly, echos of the bathroom door swinging open spread across the whole room, startling both you and Chris, but instead of stopping the lustful act, he covers your mouth and slams two slender fingers into you. You gasp under his hand with suprise and pleasure, as he begins to finger you at a moderate pace. "You're such a slut, letting me finger you at school, now shut up and take it like I know you can." He whispers seductively, his lips moving back to yours, the kiss needier than the first, his hands accelerating pace inside you. Your muscles tighten around his fingers "I'm gonna-" You cut yourself off with your orgasm, pressing your face into his shoulder while squirming under his touch.

The bathroom door slams shut, as Chris pulls out and chuckles "You did so good for me baby." You blush at the praise and nickname. "...thank you?" You instantly feel embarrassed at your reply, but the feeling quickly subsides when Chris smiles at you and leads you out of the bathroom at the bell.

"Same time tomorrow?"

[unabashegirl]

Different 3 | College HS

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author’s note: hello everyone, I am so happy you are all enjoying the last few written pieces that I’ve published.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all 25 chapters, various one shots and much more :)

masterlist

What are you doing right now?

He played with the corners of his phone’s cover as he looked down at the message that he had just received from her. They had been talking since the day after her soccer match. Harry unconsciously bit his bottom lip, thinking of a response that wouldn’t sound too nerdy or boring. He had been studying for a test. He was about to sit down and play some video games with his roommate. There was no chance he would admit that he was studying on a Friday evening.

Nothing much🫠

He wrote and deleted the words a few times; hating the way he sound and how uncertain he felt when he was around her. He finally stopped making any sort of assumption and pressed send. He placed his phone beside him before turning on the console. Right before he could grab the control, his phone beeped. Harry closed his eyes for a second and decided to leave it for a few minutes, so he would come across as desperate. That was until he realized he couldn’t concentrate on the game and gave in.

I am hungry

Do you want to come with me to pick up some food?

He smiled like a fool. He hadn’t seen her since that Monday. He wanted to ask her to spend some time together, but he had been too scared of being rejected. He wanted to be with her, but he thought he needed to be realistic. She was way out of his league. Y/N was too special to be with someone so ordinary as him. Although the thought of Y/N becoming his girlfriend made his skin get goosebumps and his heart rate rise.

Right now?

Yes. I’ll pick you up

Ok

Harry quickly freshened up and threw on a long sleeve shirt, some sweatpants, vans, and a beanie since it was starting to get colder. It was a Friday, and he still couldn’t understand how Y/N was free and more importantly willing to hang out with him.

On my way 🚗

“Where are you going?” Ganesh, Harry’s roommate asked, watching him freak out. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m just going out with a friend” He responded, just as he found the keys to the room.

I am here!😊

“Who is she?” He had never seen Harry so agitated and so different. He was always so collected and calm, nothing ever bothered him.

“No one you know” He lied and shut the room door.

“Hi!” Y/N smiled, turning down the radio as he got into the car. She wore sweatpants and a green t-shirt.

“Sorry for the wait. I couldn’t find my keys” He apologized just as she started the drive.

“What do you want to have?” She asked as she drove down the busy streets. “I could honestly eat anything. I am starving”.

“Anything would be lovely” Y/N nodded as she thought of where they could go and genuinely enjoy it. Somewhere, where they could sit and enjoy and nice conversation and a meal.

“I haven’t eaten anything today” The fridge at the apartment was packed with all sorts of food. Unfortunately, Y/N didn’t like to cook, not because of the act itself, but because of all the cleaning that had to take place afterward. She had made herself some coffee and a sandwich in the morning, but she hadn’t had dinner or lunch.

“When was the last time you ate? Harry asked trying to make conversation.

“This morning after class” She shrugged, “I don’t enjoy cooking. Do you?”

“I do” he admitted with a bit of embarrassment. “I find it quite enjoyable”

“Maybe I should invite you over, so you can cook for me” Y/N joked, but not really. She found it very romantic when a man cooked for a woman.

“How is your knee?”

“It’s just bruised and still sore, but no biggie”  Y/N decided to get some food at a nearby Panera. She was really craving some soup and a sandwich. Plus she found the place very cozy and nice. “Is here alright?” She asked as she parallel parked.

“Perfect” He couldn’t care less where they ate. He just wanted to spend some time with her.

“Would you like to eat here? Or we could pick up and go to mine? It’s just a few blocks away” Y/N offered in case he didn’t want to dine in.

“H- Here is fine” He instantly felt nervous about being at her apartment. Therefore, he preferred to stay at Panera. Somewhere where he knew that he would be able to form complete sentences.

They both got out of the car and Harry stood beside her. He got a whiff of her scent. She smelt like flowers specifically like lavender. He felt like a creep, but the scent was intoxicating. Y/N threw on a white hoodie and then locked the car.

They each ordered a cup of soup with half of a sandwich. Y/N ordered lemonade whilst Harry ordered iced tea. Y/N then took it upon herself to find them a comfortable booth where they could sit and converse. She chose one that was by the window and on a corner. It was nice a private.

“How was the rest of your week? Y/N asked as they finally sat down with their food.

“A bit hectic. I’ve got this test on Monday that has been keeping me up” He shared, dipping his spoon into his chicken tortilla soup.

“I know the feeling,” She said, “You’ve never told me the story behind your accent” Harry smiled and wiped the corners of his mouth.

“My mother and father moved here months after giving birth to me. My father is American, and my mother is very English and so am I. Although I’ve been more exposed to America’s culture, the accent is thanks to my mother. My parents moved back to England when I started college. It was that or getting the divorce” It was all very foreign to Harry. He rarely shared so much of his private life with anyone. He would even go to the extremes of leaving the room when his mother would call just so he could have privacy from Ganesh. Although, it all felt very different with her. He felt like he could tell her his darkest secrets and Y/N wouldn’t judge.

“But they are still together” She loved his accent. It singled him out of the bunch.  She found it very attractive how he could drag the last syllables of the words and how raspy his voice sounded.

“Yes.”.

“Oh! That’s nice”.

“What are you talking about? Your parents are still together too!” He pointed out, opening the bag of chips that came with the meal.

“Sure, but my parents are never home” Y/N shrugged, “Are you close to your mom?”

“Very much”

“I’m not. They spend a lot of time away, but I sort of get it. My father says it’s the sacrifice we pay to keep the type of lifestyle that we desire” Harry could tell that she didn’t believe her father’s words. He couldn’t blame her — neither did he.  He could tell that she had a very lonely life as opposed to what everyone thought.

“Would you like my pickle?” He asked as he pushed it away from the rest of his food. Y/N instantly burst into a giggle. It took Harry a few seconds to understand why she was laughing, but he caught on and joined in the laughter. “What is it with you Americans and your obsession with adding pickles to everything!”

“They are tasty!” Y/N stabbed his pickle with her fork and took it away from him.

“You eat weird things like,” he thought for a second, “Rice Krispies!” He exclaimed. “Whose idea was that?!”

“Take that back!” Y/N didn’t want to admit it, but her pantry consisted of them. Whenever she was in a hurry, she would throw two or three in her purse and call it day. Her obsession came from her mother not allowing her to have them when growing up. “They are so tasty!”.

“Absolutely not. Horrid”.

“Well, unfortunately, this has come to an end” Harry laughed at her exaggeration and finished eating his panini. “So, did you miss me?”

“Horribly” Thankfully he had swallowed all the food in his mouth when she had asked it. His cheeks had turned a tone or two darker and for a second he had thought he was going to be sick. Although, he was quite surprised and proud of himself for his honest answer and without any stuttering.

Y/N felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest and that butterflies in her tummy. It had been a long time since she had ever felt this way toward anyone. She moves closer to him, to the point where their shoulders are touching. Y/N turned to look at him and was met with his big eyes that she had grown to adore.

“Do you like me?” She asked as she leaned close to him.

“I- I do” his stutter was back, but he didn’t care. He could smell her intoxicating scent again, and it was enough to drive him crazy. Her hand reaches up and to the back of his neck, where she tangled her fingers.

Their noses touched, and their foreheads met.

“Good because I like you too” Y/N whispered then pressed their lips against one other.

Harry closed his eyes as soon as their lips touched for the first time. She kept a hand on his chest for leverage whilst the other remained tangled in his hair. Her lips were just as plump and soft as he had imagined. His entire body froze for the seconds they share the kiss. He opened his eyes as he felt her pull apart, but before he could open them fully, she kissed him again. This time it was more long and affectionate. It was as if there was no concept of time. As if they were the only ones in this world sharing a kiss. They both felt invisible and nothing else mattered.

chapter 4

[elliesstrapon]

Swan princess

!Asshole Ellie Williams x Princess Reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧˚ · . Summary: Your parents had you to be wedded by the time you each turned 20, they had you meet every summer until then, but you just couldn't stand her.

✧˚ · . Warnings: Ellie is a douch bag, rough sex, enemies to lovers, slow burn, erranged marriage, drinking, swearing, oral, over stimulation, eventual genuine wedding, Soulmates, Ellie hates you up until your both adults, major flashback, readers bipolar but i feel like this was me projecting, sorry 😭, NOT proofread.

I need all you to know this is pretty fucking long, feel free to take your time or skip &lt;3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Your first summer out of the castle when you'd turned 5. Your father held onto your hand reassuringly, pointing out at all the wonderful things you had yet to experience. His words you so vividly remembered along the lines of, "one day, this will all be yours to take care of" so sadly, the frown on his face one of the worst parts from those core memories. The rays of light hit your pearl pink dress, the sparkles shifting as you rode on the horse through what now had been the forest. "Papa, where are we going?" Your head turned back up to look at him, a cheerful smile upon your lips, your teeth crooked and white. "We, my dear daughter, are going to meet the one you shall marry one day." His eyes focused on the muddy path way, as you held onto your perfect dress so tightly in fear of it getting ruined by nature's mishaps. The memory had stopped, where what begun was the hatred between you and Ellie Williams.

For you remembered the look on her face when she'd met you. Your father pushed you towards the tall man with the girl behind him, urging you to say hello. The man'd done the same, an overjoyed toothy grin flashing on his face. "Who might this lovely young lady be?" Your dad inquired, just as happy as the man infront of you, "young princess Ellie, no doubt " He urged you again. You furrowed your brows at him angrily, taking the slightest step forward to the taller little girl who stood infront of you. "I'm Y/n" You gritted through your teeth, biting your bottom lip upsettingly, curtseying at everyone disposal. "It's a pleasure to meet you." You finished, a fake smile plastered on your face, pleading eyes for your father to take you back home. Ellie eyed you disgustingly, uninterested rolling her eyes back, the taller man pushing her forward closer. "Go on" he said angrily. "Joel!" She yelped. "Ellie." He eyed her. She scoffed, her attitude already unbearable. "It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.. Princess Y/n.... Ellie" she said poorly, introducing herself, her pinky finger digging in her ear, eyeing at it like it was all she had left to do. She turned back before the man flipped her around, roughly shoving her closer, his patience limited now. She sighed, going back to grab your hand, gently, something you hadn't expected from her insignificantly terrible mannerisms, her finger tips soft, she kissed the back of your hand, your heart had fluttered, from what you remembered, only for a slight second before she pulled away, sticking her tongue out and wiping her mouth, "Ugh, gross!" She cried. You rolled your eyes, the moment of whatever romance that'd be destined to start, passing like the speed of light.

The two of you stood there, your father's smiling at the "perfect match." all you could think about was how unpleasant she was, how she wouldn't understand you, how you absolutely despised her existence. The summer growing to be what you thought was the worst of your life span, the constant bickering and her heavy insults. You ran through the halls of her castle. Joel and your father having not understood nor notice the two of you constantly at eachothers throats. Your dress getting caught in the doors, and tripping over your slippers when she'd attacked you. "You're such a goody-two shoes!" She argued, your cheeks burning red from the running. "Shut it, Ellie" you spit at her. Your dress torn at the hem and your pink slippers stained with shoe marks on them from tripping over your feet. The rest of the summer lasted the exact same, every little thing she said annoying you, and every action you took, she wanted to intervene.

Soon enough more winters and summers went by before you were 12, hiding at the top of the tower, in your room dreading this summer. "Y/n! We can't keep Princess Ellie waiting any longer!" Your father called from the carriage at the bottom of the castle. "Ugh, please, she's barley even a princess!" You shouted angrily, eyeing him from the window, your hair tied into a braid and your nightgown hadn't changed. "I haven't even washed my hair nor changed"you gestured to your hair and clothes. "Gives you all the more reason to hurry" you heard the grin in his voice, causing you to smile the slightest. You redid your braid, finishing it off with a blue ribbon at the end, and quickly slipping on one of you're too many owned dresses. You pranced through the long historic hallways, waving small goodbyes to the servants who'd helped around the castle, leaving out the door to the garden. "Are you ready to leave?" Your father asked. "Yes" you sighed sadly, having to see Ellie again making you feel as if the world were ending. "I don't get why you dislike her so much, she's really such a lovely young lady." He frowned, entering the carriage with you. "Sure, if lovelys the word you wanna use." You groaned, "half the time the only thing she's doing is jumping at me every chance she gets to make my life horrible." Your dad smiled at you, saying you were over doing it. The ride to the neighboring kingdom was joyful, the sound of your laughter echoing through the windows. Once you'd arrived, you'd seen Ellie once more, no better than the previous summers, still as horrid as you remembered. "Hello, princess" she rolled her eyes, whispering into the ear of another girl beside her, it so clearly about you. "Princess Ellie." You gritted. "And who's this?" Your father smiled, Ellie's attitude being replaced with the innocent act she'd always put up to make you seem as if the bad guy. "This, is the friend I made last winter" she grinned. "Dina" she introduced her. You nervously waved at her, not earning much in return but a dirty look from Ellie, you clutched your dress, suddenly feeling very self conscious. "Well, what're we waitin' for? Les go!" Joel said with his thick accent, following him back to the all too familiar grand castle, lifting your dress as you walked over the muddy ground. You followed Ellie around the rest of the day, the two girls continuesly looking back at you as you acted like a dog, scolded if you sat out in the permanent room you had here during the summer. The sun reflected your shadows ever so often, "does she have to follow us around?" Dina turned around suddenly, weirdly annoyed with your presence, her red dress swaying with her hips as she turned. Ellie looked back, her ill-fitted dress steady as her shoes stepped on the hems. Tearing it like colored paper. "I wish she didn't, it's a shame I have to marry her" she said angrily, grabbing Dina's hand, pulling her along to show her the tree house that was supposedly in the field behind the castle, whispering about it as if you couldn't hear them.

You followed them to the tree house, far behind, you almost didn't wanna go into the tree house, till you saw it, it hadn't been there last summer. You ran softly on the grass, attempting to catch up to the girls, finally getting to the ladder, it began to float up, realizing the girl with a dark haired messy ponytail was pulling it up. She darted her eyes at you. "Snowflakes aren't allowed up in this treehouse" she said distinctively. "Oh, fuck you!" You yelled. Giving them the finger you walked off annoyed. "What's her problem?" Dina raised her brow at Ellie, "Dunno, she's like short tempered or whatever" Ellie chuckled, watching you storm off.

When you turned 17, you had your first royal ball, "Ellie!" You called, walking to her room at the very end of the hallway on the very last floor of the castle, you turned the door knob, opening the door aggressively to see her in her loose dress as it'd always been, practicing her archery on an ill drawing of you from when you were 10. "Oh, real mature" you said angrily. "Yeah whatever." She stuck her tongue out at you, you walked towards the target of you, your blue and fancy ruffley dress following closely behind you as your heels clicked hollowly against the old floors of the castle. Your hair effortlessly soft. You ripped it off the wall. "Hey!! What the hell's your problem?!" She spat. "You're a fucking child is my problem." You rolled your eyes tearing it. "What do you even want?" She got up angrily. "The ball" you muttered. "That's tonight?" She gasped. "Yes, everyone knew that" you fixed the straps of her dress unconciously, her breath hitched, suddenly flinching your hand away "get out, I'll fix it myself, I wasn't even gonna wear this" she muttered. "Jeez fine, the one time I try being nice and all you ever do is be a total douche." You outed the room, flattening the lacey blue ruffles of your dress, adjusting your gold heart shaped locket and your finished hair. You walked down the hall once more, waiting for your fiance to open her eyes and act like the princess she really was whether she liked it or not. You found yourself at the entrance of the castle, a strongly built woman guarding the gate. "Strong arms, huh?" You smirked up at her, her face flushing, "Princess." She averted her eyes, meanwhile Ellie watching from afar with Dina. "God she's always flirting with those damned guards" she huffed, the giggling of you and the guard filling the room. "Why care so much? What, you like her?" Dina said, brushing the lose strands of hair from her face. "God no" she said annoyed, fixing her new suit. "Sure seems like it" Dina scoffed. "She can flirt with who she wants" Dina defended you. "Whatever" you turned to see the girls eyeing you warily for you had no clue as to why. You brushed your hand off the guards arm, kissing her cheek. "Guys let's go, we'll be late." You waved your arm at them, calling them over as they obeyed. "Alright Papa! We can go" you shouted to the topless carriage outside. "Perfect, darling!" He smiled, patiently waiting, you carefully lifted your dress running to the cart. Leaving Ellie behind. "You like her" Dina teased. "Oh fuck off, I've hated that ‘ Little Ms. Perfect ’ since I was 5, thats not about to change now just because she went from some annoying ugly duckling to a fucking goddess...or.. whatever." Dina chuckled, "like a swan?" She pressed. "Yeah whatever you wanna call it." She walked to the cart quickly behind you now to catch up, smiling at your father. "Took you long enough" you said. "Shut up" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're already to leave!" Your dad called to the people in front, controlling the horses.

You drove up to your palace, the towns people, hundreds, of them cheerfully smiling, waving, throwing flowers from their own gardens, you couldn't help but flash a toothy smile, waving back and holding the hands of the little children being held upon shoulders of their parents, a few sending weird stares at you as Ellie stuck up her two fingers behind your head, mocking you, making some of the kids laugh. "Hey!" You turned, arms over your chest, "will you quit it?! God your frustrating" you sighed, melting back into the leather seats of the carriage.

Soon you'd pulled up at the gates of your castle, the horses in the stable causing a racket, and the ball gowns visible from the windows you'd seen from outside. The dim lights romantic, Ellie exited the carriage after your father, Joel waiting for Ellie to turn and help you down, she ran her hands through her hair annoyedly, grabbing your hand gently helping you down. Your heart fluttering the same the day you'd met when she kissed your hand, despite the hatred you had towards her, your locket glistened under the moon light, and the pins in your hair reflecting the moon itself. "Thank you, but I could've done it myself" you pushed her hand away. Walking alone to the entrance, walking in as the guards at the door opened it for you, you winked at them, the beads of sweat rolling down their heads. "Such a beautiful young women she's becoming" Joel smiled, Ellie turning her head from your direction, the poof of your dress following the move of your hips. "Indeed she is" your dad agreed.

As you entered the ball room, royal families you'd thought close to you came to greet you, compliments being thrown from every direction, the colours of the gowns bright and warming. "So... you and Ellie, huh?" A girl in green said. "Not as charming as everyone thinks" you rolled your eyes. "She's absolutely horrid." Your hands rested in your hips, suddenly warm breath tickling your neck. "Horrid my ass," she came from behind you, aggressively whispering in your ear her complaints. "Attitude problems I tell ya' " she pushed you aside gently. "You would think someone as pretty as her has a pretty personality too, but wasn't raised right... clearly " she sheepishly smiled at you. Your hands fisting the fabric of your dress in the palm of your hand as the girls gawked at her disrespect towards you, throwing shame at your name. "Fuck you" you mouthed to her, walking away annoyed.

You found yourself flirting with the princesses of every country, each one of them better than the last much like the last glass of wine you drank unsupervised. The shawl on your shoulders slipping off, the freckles and goosebumps appearing so clearly. "Look.. I'd give anything to sleep with you, but aren't you betrothed to her excellency, Ellie?" The girl respectfully asked concerned. "Who cares, everyone knows it won't work out." You grabbed her slim waist, suddenly your father tapping your shoulder. "The slow dance, dear." He grabbed your available hand, you measly let go of the girls pink dress, a look of dismay on her face. You internally yelling inside your head at the thought of marrying this woman. Your dad helped you your way to Ellie, her tall muscular build in the center of the room, standing there dreading your hands on her body. "Now don't make a scene, be professional" your dad warned, placing your hand upon Ellies shoulder, taking the empty wine glass from you, "fine... god" you looked up at Ellie, her gaze away from yours as her hands slid down to your waist, holding you firmly. Your hands only placed hesitantly on her padded shoulders.

"Sorry" she apologized, moving her hands gesturing she didn't mean to be weird. "Ellie Williams, THE Ellie Williams apologizing" you teased, her look still distant "would you look at me? No one'll believe your poor excuse of whatever the hell this is" you complained, your hand cupping her cheek, pulling her face to look at you as the band played a soft spoken song. "This is shit" she whispered. "Yeah, well they're all watching, so shut up and pretend you love me for the next annoyingly long 3 minutes of our dumb lives" you said, moving your feet slowly with hers in sync. She looked into your eyes, you realizing just how vivid her green eyes were, suddenly just noticing all the small details of her face, like the mole under her eye, or the scar on her eyebrow, even how uneven her side part was, you almost laughed in her face.

You upside down smiled, cheekily looking away, "what now" she asked, her brows furrowing. "Nothing, nothing" you waved your hand dismissively. "Yeah whatever" softly laughing along with you, not helping herself. For a short period her hands on your hips sent butterflies surging through your stomach, her breath upon your forehead giving you goose bumps as you twirled and spun around the room, your dress swinging satisfyingly as you forgot the crowd of people around you. "You know, your presence currently is... slightly more tolerable than usual." You whispered, "That so true, now?" She widened her eyes, spinning you into a dip on the slow and steady beat of the song. "Surprisingly." You giggled, admiring the equivalent of stars splattered across her scab cut face from training, your heart increasing every so slightly. You almost felt yourself falling for her like a fool. "If you weren't such a massive whore and flirt to every girl you met I might've actually been in love with you by n—"

"Excuse me?" You interrupted her. Angrily, stepping on her foot. "Ow— what the fuck?" She yelped. "'No what the fuck'd you just call me?" You let go of her immediately. The gaze of people returning to just you. "Well I'm not wrong." She admitted honestly. "Oh yeah— as if you don't do the same, Ellie!" You cried, pushing her away, almost tripping over your dress. "Why do you always do this?! What's your fucking issue? Can you not act like a decent human being for once?" You rolled your eyes, crossing your hands over your chest as she stared at you almost fearfully. "The only reason you're fucking dance with me is because if you didn't we'd both get shit for it! To think I almost fell for that shitty act of yours." Your eyes started to swell up with tears glistening in the light threatening to spill. "No fucking shit! Why'd I like you if you're always being like this?"

You scoffed, "Fuck you, Ellie." You pulled your laced shawl back up your shoulders, holding it firmly as you ran to your room.

That night you watched Ellie shamefully leave in her fathers carriage, Dina beside her worriedly holding her hand in attempt to relax her, a frown on your face as you'd waved goodbye, you entered inside, your father calmly rubbing your back. "I want to break off the engagement." You said sternly. "But—"

"No!" You bursted, the tears rolling down your cheek onto your already tear stained ball gown. "I don't care about out legacy— we'll get someone else to take over, I refuse to wed her. Do you not understand the severity of what she said to me, father?!" You cupped your mouth, muffling the sobs, your breaths quick and weak.

"At least just give it another year, my love, please consider" your father frowned, the wrinkles on his face increasing by the years. "Love has it's ups and downs, this is bound to happen through your marriage" he tried to reason. "Not when you refuse to do what it takes to fix it." You wiped your nose. Your cheeks red and your eyes puffy. "I'll give it another summer" you reckoned, "but one more slip up of hers and I'm done for." You darted your eyes, your tone serious.

"Very well, my dear" he hugged you, whispering a low "I love you"

"I love you too" you hugged him back, holding back the frustration tears.

You wanted to lose your mind atleast a hundred and fifty times before meeting Ellie again. The dreaded summer you'd not been waiting for, not by a long shot. Your father repeatedly thanked you, the carriage dropping you at the front gate of the castle with your dad. Joel standing smiling at you, Ellie up in the castle possibly spying on your every move, and if she was, you wouldn't have been surprised. "I'm really, really sorry for the way things endin' " he apologized, hugging you closely. "Don't worry Joel, it was a misunderstanding.. You know.. like Papa says.." you chuckled, the stupidity of last year's events getting to your head. You stepped foot inside the castle, barley missing anything about it but the guards. "Ellies up inner' room if you wanna go.. y'know" he pointed to the grand staircase. Your father gave you the look, where you didn't have to go, but if you didn't, the disappointment would be unbearable.

You went up the steps to the last floor, out of breath your 2 inch heels making you wobble, you found yourself hesitating at the door, unable to turn the knob before you heard the sound of suckling, heavy breaths, and deep sighs, you almost felt you were about to throw up. The anger boiling inside you, you could've just left, slept it out, or argued with her, tiring her out instead. You aggressively pushed open the door, nearly breaking your nails, the sight of a woman on top of Ellie, her nightgown barley even worn on her body anymore and the soft fingers of Ellie's you'd felt one too many times on your body for your comfort on the girls hips. "This just keeps getting worse and worse, doesn't it?!" You exclaimed angrily. "Fuck." Ellie sighed, her eyes wide as the woman got off top of her, adjusting her lingerie before rushing out clumsily. "What the fuck do you want?" She got up, sitting straight, all left of her, her loose strapped bra. "What do I want?" You mimicked her, suddenly stomping towards a pair of clothes, throwing at her almost bare chest, you grabbed her as she finished clothing, gripping her forearm tightly, you dragged her downstairs, the sound of your loose dress waving in the air and your breaths heavy, you stopped at 2 of the 3 dining rooms until you found your father. "I'm out!" You complained. "I refuse to marry her, I'm done." Your tiara crooked off the top of your head, Ellie gave you a dirty look. Pushing you off of her. "But —" you continued. "I'm not going to marry someone who doesn't love me" you hallored. Throwing her an angry and disapproved look. "I want to leave, and I never want to see her face again unless it's news of whoever she's betrothed to next cause they're in for a rude awakening." You insulted. Not a word escaping her lips, but a few gasps from Joel. His heart along with your father's crumbling to the ground like a shattered plate. "I'm sorry Papa, but I can't." You sighed. "I'd like a carriage to bring us home as early as possible, we have important decisions to make, I'd rather be in the comfort of our castle rather than a scums." You walked to your room. Packing the things you'd left during the winters for the summer, all of it coming to an end. It almost made you upset, you were overjoyed, yet angry, at how you almost fell for her, if she hadn't said what she did that day at the ball, you would've sworn you'd forgotten the rotten history of your past.

The next morning you left, concluding the last time you had seen Princess, Ellie Williams, your ex fiance.

You hadn't seen Ellie in two years, and if you were being honest, your life had become healthier. It was like it'd always been but without the stress of Ellie constantly making your life a living hell, you'd been in a few relationships, none of them lasting and neither one of them being ‘the one’, you picked up on your hobbies, helped your father around the town, rebuilding the castle and re-doing your room, and at the very best making friends of your own.

"Princess" the guards entered the dining room as you read a book, munching on freshly picked strawberries from the garden out back. "Yes?" You smiled, turning your head to look at her. "One of your friends are here, requesting to see you" the guard said. "Oh thank you, tell her I'll be there in a second" you stood up, patting your pink dress of the strawberry seeds, closing your book. "Very well, your excellency" the gaurd rushed away, leaving you adjusting you hair before walking through the halls rapidly to see your bestfriend.

"y/n!" She shouted, waving at you, her pale dress falling beneath her ankles and her cardigan slipping off her shoulders. "Elisa!" Your lips growing into a grin, "I didn't know you were coming!" You ran towards her, engulfing her in a well needed hug, "you didn't get my letter?" She giggled. "Goodness, no." Your arms fell from her waist, playing with her hair. "What a surprise!" You squealed. "No! The surprise is what I have to tell you!" She grabbed your wrists, her smile wide. "I just had to tell you in person!" She said. "Must be important, huh?" You said, pulling her inside the castle, your dresses meshing against eachother. "What is it?" You asked, taking her out to the garden. "Well.." she began, you took your seats at the small table centered with a bouquet of lilies. "The neighboring kingdom.." she began, your heart skipping the beat at the sound of it. "Y'know.. King Joel, princess Ellie.." you scoffed. "Some princess" you rolled your eyes. "No, but, listen!" Elisa waved her hands, "they're hosting a ball, every royal, andd towns people invited she exclaimed excitingly, her, herself just a wealthy towns person. "Oh, goodness," you paused, "in what honor?" You asked curiously, "Princess Ellie hasn't found someone to marry yet, Kind Joel's saying there hasn't been one perfect match since.." she trailed off. "Not surprised." You tucked your hair behind your ear. "What's it to do with me, though?"

"wanna come as my plus one? Just for fun! Of course" she asked overjoyed. "Elisa.. I don't know.. you know how things ended—" you said, resting your head on your hand. "Please! We'll stay away from her at all costs." She begged you. You pondered over the decision, looking for reasons you should and shouldn't be going before deciding it might've been fun. "Fine!" You said warmly, "but if anything goes wrong.."

"I know!" She smiled. "Alright," you agreed "it's tomorrow night, you might want to get ready" she said, getting up quickly. "Now I've got to go get prepped. I'll see you tomorrow?" She pushed in her chair. "Sure will, need me to see you out?" You asked. "Nope, all good, I've been here so many times I know the hallway like the back of my hand...... Sort of" she waved you off as a guard took her away. You stared into the distance, watching the geese and doves fly profusely over the sunset, suddenly feeling like going for a late night walk in the woods outside the town.

You found your way around the castle to your father, asking him for a dress fitting early tomorrow. Afterwards going onto put a long warm coat, white fluff fulfilments along the rim of the sleeves and hoodie, a moon stone as the button that clipped at the top. The coat itself a heavenly blue. You'd left the castle, quietly walking through the town, street lights flickering and the youngest little children running around in packs as their parents watched over them, curstying after you.

You watched the constellations ever so brightly in the sky, everyone of them dusted across the midnight blue, the sparkles of them vividly reminding you of Ellie's freckles, you subconsciously counted them the summers you met her. It made you sick. Moreso the thought of having to see her again rather than counting the freckles new every year. In some ways, you felt crushed by how you so easily could've moved on from the one you were ‘destined’ to marry, break it off, and still not have found love. It was like a curse, thinking of how in every universe, you hated her guts.

You're gaze softened at the lake you'd come to just through the forest , 2 swans tangled in eachothers embrace, their feathers white as snow, a heart lazily untangling as they swam side by side, neither one of them moving further apart than 3 inches from eachother. You sighed. Looking at the locket you'd owned since 15, it heart shaped, a swan engraved on it. "Oh how I love swans" you whispered. You made your way up to the castle a little more than an hour later, the moon fully above, it reflecting off of windows you stepped by.

Once you woke up in the morning, you'd gotten your dress fitting done, choosing a baby blue ball gown, the sleeves falling elegantly off the shoulders, lace and jewels falling across the corset of the dress, pearl necklaces to go with the locket you held so dearly, and glittery high heels. You'd gotten your hair done not far long after, your white and silky house coat sliding against your hair softly, the maid had put your hair in a half up-half down look, strands of hair still lazy left out, framing the shape of your face precisely the way you had liked it, she finished it off with a jeweled tiara matching your gown.

The day'd passed the sunset almost upon you, as you looked into the vanity in your room, your heart beating fast as you slipped on your gown, you maid behind you tightening your corset, tieing elegant bows, you adjusted your sleeves, "Miss, are you alright?" The maid asked, concern in her voice as she massaged your shoulders, watching as your gaze became saddened and saddened the more time went on. "Oh, no I'm fine.. Please, tell the guards to tell Elisa that I'll be down as soon as possible when she gets here." The maid left the room, you put on cherry red lipstick, focusing so quickly on making it perfect, you watched your lips move around blending it out to be softer. "I can't believe I'm doing this" you groaned, slipping on your heels gently, walking out to see Elisa in a bright pink dress, a boa slinking off her shoulders the radiant white fluff falling across her chest, diamonds hanging from her neck and ears. Her hair in a clean bun. "You ready to go?" She said, grabbing your arm as you walked up to her. "You look beautiful" you smiled. Dismissing the question. "Thank you" she blushed. "I was hoping I'd meet someone there tonight, it means a lot you think that" "no of course, I get it" you rubbed her arm with your thumb, circling in the same spot. You hoping you'd meet someone as well.

The carriage drove you through the dark night passing the same lake with the partnered swans, from the night before. "You looking to settle down?" you asked, hands resting on your lap. "I think so, I wanna have children so bad, and I need their future parent to treat them just as well as I would" she stared at her hands "all I really want is a family" the cold coming from her mouth. "I'm betting you'll meet someone amazing" you assured her. The trees swayed in the winds, your hair blowing along with the rhythm of it all, strolling through the ghost town that you'd remembered so full when your enemy wasn't foolishly inviting every person to exist to this horrid ball. You found yourselves at the gate. The castle lit and decorated with bright and gorgeous lanterns. You both thanked the guards.

You shivered walking to the big doors that's been open. Guards greeting every new person to have walked in. "They'll be here all night" you whispered to Elisa. "Sure will" she said, sorry for them.

You walked in the ball room, Elisa disappearing from your arm as soon as you did. "Typical" you sighed. Walking measly around the room, your gown brushing against the others. Feeling small in the crowd. You stood at the food table, eating the crab cakes like your last dinner, stuffing in two at a time before catching a glimpse of a tall build, her hair short, the same hairstyle as you, and her suit dark, a blue rose in her pocket. Talking to a few of the females, the freckles and eyebrow scar unmistakable. You're breath hitched, gulping down the remaining crab cakes, you felt faint, she looked so mature, her smile bright, yet her eyes hiding a subtle hint of pain you'd only notice if you'd known someone for years, regardless how much you hated them. Tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes suddenly widening before you realized she'd seen you. "Shit" you muttered, she waved off the women excusing herself to walk towards you.

She stopped a few inches from you, averting her eyes from yours as she bowed, a gasp escaping your coated red lips. "Princess" her voice cracked. "Yes— uh, Princess... Ellie" you curtseyed. "You look... Beautiful" she breathed. Gently grabbing your hand to kiss it softly. "Thank you— Did you happen to hit your head or something" you pulled your hand away quickly away from her lips. "You're acting... Strange" you let out a breath you had no clue you'd been holding in for so long. "How so?" She raised a brow. "You're not acting like you hate my guts." You said. "Who said I didn't?" She crossed her arms. "What? So that's changed now cause I'm, ‘beautiful’?" You spat. " 'That such a bad reason?" She scrunched her nose subconsciously, wiping it with her hand. "Get your head out of the gutter Ellie." You stomped away, "fuck" she whispered.

You still unable to wrap your head around when she'd become so.. odd? You flew around the ball room, every 30 minutes seeing her eye you from across the room. As if some kind of snack, you began to feel creeped out, her whispers to an oh so grown up Dina always beginning after she saw your face. Soon you found her asking you to dance. "Ellie, if you're only going to like me because of my looks.. I don't want you to like me at all" you sighed, taking a step back. "Especially considering our history, I mean what is this? 15 years of constant torture and insults being thrown at me for it to just suddenly change? I can't do it Ellie, I really just can't" you said, turning around for a split second, before she hooked her slender hand around your forearm, the slow dance beginning as she pulled you into her, her hand firmly on your waist and the other holding your other hand just above your shoulders. You sighed, "Ellie —" annoyed. "What else?" You said, she held you close, deja vu hitting you like a carriage door, while she span you around the room, the crowd almost not there, you gazed deeply into her eyes. "What else?" She raised a brow confused. "Is beauty all that matter to you?" You asked, pained. "What? No—" she choked on her words. "That's not—"

"Then what else?" You grip on her hand tightening significantly. "I don't know— I mean—" she bit her bottom lip. "No Ellie— save it." You stopped her. "You don't get to do that" you darted your eyes at her, the hatred building up with every step you took, you began to feel frustrated. "Do what?!" She raised her voice ever so slightly, no one heard over the band. "You don't get to like me because I'm fucking attractive now to you. That's just not fair." Before you could react, she grabbed your arm painfully, pulling you of the crowd of people, she dragged you down the hall, unable to free from her grip, you tripped over your gown. "Ellie what the hell!!" You cried, playing with her hand to get you off just before you'd got thrown into the tea room you'd remembered not to fondly, she locked the doors. "Ellie open that goddam door—"

"Would you just listen to me?!" She yelled, you quickly walked up to her, stumbling over your heels as you grabbed the collar of her suit, the blue rose falling from it. "You don't get to have me listen to you! Ellie, I hate you! And you threw this ball so you could find a wife, I am not going to play that roll again, just becau—"

She threw you onto the couch, your big dress wrinkling against it as she pinned you down, her arms caging your head from escape like an animal. You let a gasp escape your mouth. Your heels falling off of your feet in the uncomfortable position. "It's not because of your fucking looks! Y/n!" She confessed. Her one arm falling to her side. "It's the fucking history" her lips trembled. "We spent our whole lives together knowing one day all thats around us would be ours to rule, together." she said. "You know my worst fears, goddamn it, and you threw it away just like that." Your breath hitched. "And I know everything there is to know about you, whether I hate you or not." Her arms at your hips now, subconsciously caging you in again. "Those two years I didn't see you, I thought I missed messing with your fuckin' head and flaring your anger up like I was those 15 years, but I really just missed seeing the one person I spent every summer with up until I turned 18" you felt offended, her back handed compliments confusing you. You sat up warily, watching her gaze turn to guilt as you propped your elbow up against the head of the couch. "What the fuck" you breathed. Her face just inches apart from yours that you could feel her heavy breaths up against your lips. "Ellie—" you groaned. "So what are you saying? You're in love with me? After all that?" You scoffed in disbelief. "Yes!" She cried. Your heart pounded at your chest, the warmth between you suddenly growing hotter. You couldn't understand anything, grasp the situation at hand before you reached your hand up to her cheek, cupping it softly before connecting your lips that were inches apart just a few mere seconds ago. You roughly bit down on her lip, the sexual tension flying off the walls. "What're you doing?" She muffled a moan into the kiss, surprised as she gripped your hips. "Fuck you" you whispered, shoving your tongue in her mouth exploring every inch of her as she delicately whined, her embrace tightening. You lazily pushed her down, hovering above her, "all that shit just for this" you breathed, hooking your lips onto her soft freckled skin, leaving a wet trail across her neck, while you undid her button up, the sounds of her heavy breaths and sighs filling up the room, you sucked at her skin. "Fuck" she whined. Messily gripping a handful of your hair as the sticky path of saliva continued down her collar bone, stationd between her breasts. You abruptly stopped, struggling to undo the bows of your corset. Ellie looked up to you with pleading eyes, "lemme—" she heaved, flipping you over, your clothed ass up on her crotch while you held your hair to your shoulder, her fingers unintertwining the ribbons. You sat on your knees, she trailed kisses down the back of your neck, each and every one rougher than the last, your dress slipping off by the second before she threw it to the ground leaving you with only your panties left. "Shit" she whispered as you turned over, pulling her in desperatly, tugging at her lips between your front teeth. "You're so beautiful" she admittedly whispered between breaks. "Thank you" you, you smirked against her lips. You sat on her lap, sucking at her tongue, her hands roaming your body entirely, she played with your boobs, all the thoughts leaving your mind as you threw your head back. "Fuck, Ellie" you moaned. Her wet kisses filling the room with sinful noises.

Her tongue flicked at your hard bud, it only standing more as she sucked at it, toying with the other one while she still squeezed your plush hips.

"I need you" her lips meeting your stomach, butterflies in your lower abdomen began to scour, the heat between your legs only growing stronger as she praised you, worshipping your body like a goddess. "Why are you like this" your jaw dropped, her hands suddenly palming you through your panties, already soaking, moans escaping from your red stained lips, that matched the pair all over Ellie's neck and jaw.

"Lay down" she demanded, squeezing your ass cheek. You immediately layed yourself beside her, her head stationed between your legs as she looked up at you hungrily, a face you'd never seen her make at you before, she kissed the inside of your thighs, biting at them like dessert as her fingers gently rubbed at your throbbing pussy, your panties still unmoving, "mmh~" you muffled, the hickys between your legs butterfly shaped, she continued to rub at your sweet spot, playing with the tangles in your hair as she kissed you softly. Your heart collapsed in on itself, the gentleness something youd never experienced before. "You're being so... So sweet" you heaved into the kiss, staining her lips in lipstick as she rubbed faster. "You deserve it" she smirked against the kiss, leaving more around the rest of your face. The ball room music faintly heard from outside, your mouth formed an ‘O’ as she lowered her head again. Your conversations severly uncoordinated, responding to questions with only moans and whines. She slipped off your panties, only lowering them as far as your knees, "I'm gonna make you never want to leave this room" she kissed your hickey covered thigh again, before nuzzling your clit with her tongue, you flinched at the contact, an overwhelming pleasure washing over you as your legs shaked, leaving her holding your hips down. You felt your walls tighten, she swirled her tongue, every muscle causing you to tense up, her tongue only deepening. "Oh god—" you reclined back, her teeth softly nipping your pussy. "Feel good, princess?" She said. Rubbing your inner thigh reassuringly as she suckled "fuck, yes, Ellie" you whined. The pressure in your stomach building up, "I'm so... Fuck—!!" She slid against your walls, you cupped her hair, thrusting your hips into her tongue, desperately wanting to release the knot. Your wet folds quivering. "Please, Ellie—" you begged, vibrating underneath her touch. She fingered your clit, eating you out both at once. "Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie!!" You cried you repeated her name like a god. Giving into your pleasurous desires, the creamy white substance leaking down your thigh "shit!" You cried, all she did praising you through your orgasm, just for her fingers to not lift off once. Still her slender fingers pounding inside of you quickly, the slaps of skin filling the room like paddy-cake.

She sat you on her lap again, grinding your hips over her hand, having you ride her as she moved your waist herself, you too weak, for your second orgasm to wash over you, the couch damp in your liquids. "You're doing so good" she whispered, your fingers digging into her skin like daggers. Your heavy breaths drawn over the music. You came again. Your head falling into her shoulder, she tucked the strands of messy hair off your face, tears staining your Rosey cheeks, and her clothes stained in your cum.

"Oh god.."

PART 2?

I got so lazy towards the end out of fear people would get impatient!! Especially since I promised to post yesterday!! Either way, I will edit eventually if people want me too! I'll be posting part to in the next few days! <33

[i-luvsang]

sienna — jeong yunho

pairing : yunho x gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : fluff, little bit of angst ➖⟢ cw : not proofread/edited, kissing, mentions of exhaustion and stress ➖⟢ wc : 1K ➖⟢ rating : pg-13 .. listen to sienna by the marías ! for you @megumisthv tysm for sending all the atz reqs i'll do my best to get to as many as i can!! <33

yunho has trouble opening up. he’s a sweet, sunshiney guy and he’s not one to get very emotional around others. he thinks he’s supposed to be smiling all the time, and that he’s the one who should be comforting others. and it’s not that big of a deal, he tells himself. he’s just so, so exhausted, and it’s starting to get to him. on top of that, he really, really misses you.

when you hug him, you feel it, the way he melts into your arms and can’t seem to peel himself away from your embrace.

it’s been weeks since you’ve seen each other, both of you so busy, him even more so with his hectic style of life.

“hey, love,” you mumble into the fabric of his jacket. “miss me, huh?” all he does is nod. “i missed you, too, yun.” you feel the smile on your face turn a little sad, full of affection for him, because you can feel all of the tension in his body as he keeps you close. it’s a little awkward, because you’re standing in the doorway of his apartment, but you happily let him take what he needs.

when he finally pulls away, your heart breaks to see the subtle mist of tears in his pretty, pretty eyes.

“hey,” you say all soft, “grab me an extra sweatshirt and let’s go sit on the roof, yeah? we should be able to catch the sunset.”

“okay,” he agrees with a half smile. there’s a few sweatshirts hung up by the door, so he grabs the nearest one that's his and his smile grows a little more as he refuses to give it to you. instead, he bunches the fabric up in his hands and holds it up like he’s going to put it on for you. you laugh a little, but don’t protest. 

already, you know you’ll let him do whatever he wants tonight. with that, his hands are over your head and he’s tugging the garment down until he can see your face again. when you feel the fabric fall down past your chin, you open your eyes to see yunho leaning in close, his nose mere centimeters away from your own. you giggle, and the gentle sound knocks whole tons of pressure off yunho’s shoulders. he smiles, all genuine this time, then presses a sweet kiss to your lips. you feel the soft exhale from his nose as he parts from you and tugs the bottom of the sweatshirt down for you to put your arms through the sleeves.

yunho’s about to turn to close the door and walk out with you, but you grab his hand to stop him.

“get yourself a jacket, too. it’s cold out.”

“right,” he smiles sheepishly as he lets his hand slip from yours for just a moment to grab another layer for himself. then, his hand is back in yours and the door clicks shut.

once on the roof, yunho’s hand shifts to your waist to pull you closer. you grab his hand and tuck it into your sweatshirt pocket, and now you’re so close to each other that your walking is more like a waddle. but neither of you could care about that, all you can think about is having the other near and keeping warm from the bitter bite of the chilly rooftop wind. 

you sit on the bench that faces the sunset, and yunho’s head immediately finds its way to your shoulder. your eyes drift closed for a soft moment as you relish the feeling of him so close and comfortable, the brush of his hair against your jaw and his arm wrapped around you tight.

he sighs heavy and you open your eyes again, grabbing his other hand and placing it on your knee, keeping your own hand over his to rub your thumb over his knuckles.

you bite the inside of your cheek in contemplation, wondering whether you should ask what’s bothering him or wait for him to speak up about it on his own. in the meantime, you figure that watching the sky turn different colors is enough. a few minutes later, and it would have been too late to see the sun set, but now it’s hovering over the horizon, reaching for the tops of buildings in the distance and highlighting the bright orange of fall trees.

you let the time pass slowly, let yunho stay silent and burrow into your side as the sun sinks every so softly into the darkening line of the horizon. if you were to crane your neck and look up, you’d see the darkness of autumn night creeping up on you, but you instead take in the orange, pink, purple, and baby blue of the fading daylight.

only when it’s dark, colder than ever, and the automatic night lights of the roof reveal the puffs of your breathing that come out foggy, does yunho speak.

“i’m so tired,” he whispers, finally letting the words tumble out into the open night air. with a sigh of your own, you squeeze his hand in yours.

“i know,” you sympathize with your brows pulled tight in worry. “let me do everything for you tonight, will you?”

this time, his sigh is one of relief. you don’t let any pity slip into your voice, just love and genuine care. you understand him and you present him with the little things that you can do for him, and he couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“thank you,” he breathes out. “let’s go inside, it’s cold.” you hum in agreement, but let him keep sitting there when he doesn’t get up right away. when he wants, he’ll stand, and you’re more than happy to bear through the cold for a minute longer if it means doing things at his pace.

when he stands, you stay right with him, stuck to his side as you make your way to warmer air.

[anananass]

Wriothesley reacting to you telling him you’re pregnant

warning: a little suggestive but otherwise extremely sweet because he is a silly man with a big heart in my eyes

note: I will keep this one part with him only but AHHH I’m planning on doing some of the other boys in the near future because hughshhsh

Wriothesley

You decide to bring the fortunate news at the most random moment ever.

There you are, enjoying some tea in silence during his afternoon break whilst both your favorite artist plays in the background making the best atmosphere for a regular afternoon.

Truthfully, you figured the news not too long ago but right when you found out, you thought of how you should inform him. Wrio loves children from the bottom of his heart and does anything in his power to assure their safety and well being and that alone causes you to melt at the simplest thought of telling him that he himself is going to be a father. But how should you tell him???

He deserves to fibf out in a big way but at the same time, can you really resist keeping your lips shut???

To sum up, you can’t, not with the tensed look he is flashing you. Is he able to read the air and notice you are pondering really hard?

“Something on your mind, darling?” He asks, genuinely curious, but when you take longer than usual to respond his expression turns into one of worry. Still, he is so sweet and just assumes you might have a little difficulty with telling him what’s bothering you so he gives you the time.

But his icy eyes and the awkward silence consume you so much that you sigh and just stare at him for a little longer. You need to figure how you’re gonna word all that and it’s okay, he doesn’t mind it although it’s eating at him.

“There is something I should tell you.” You finally utter whilst holding back your breath for the big announcement you’re about to make. However, he mistakes your enthusiasm and excitement for worry and anxiety.

“Come on, tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it. Anything it is, just say it and it’s done. ” He insists and lifts himself from the chair just to cut the corner of the desk so he can kneel before you to bring a sense of comfort within you. He even holds your hand and stares deeply into your eyes and dear god, the tint of wonder mixed with concern in his eyes is killing you.

You gulp and take a big breath before unleashing the news. “You know… remember when I told you back then that you’d make a great father? When you took care of that lost child?”

“Yeah, what about it?” He doesn’t catch the hint but only because his priority is your current mental wellbeing that he has to ensure is fine.

“What if I told you that you WILL be a great father?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you give him the brightest, the most radiant smile that he has ever laid his eyes on, and even with that he can’t figure what you’re referencing.

He remains unresponsive for a second and soon enough, the digits begin to add up. He is going to be… a father?? Is that what you meant??? He has to make sure he’s not getting the wrong idea.

“y/n.” He murmurs, sounding all soft and quiet while his eyebrows raise. His eyes begin traversing your whole face and it’s looking a bit more intense than he probably intended.

“Wrio.” You repeat after him, just waiting for him to say it himself.

“Am I going to be one?” Those words barely slip his throat, they sound almost stuttered, as if he was holding back tears perhaps? His heart races the more he processes this possible information.

you don’t give him a straight answer but lower your head to your belly and place gentle rubs against the lower of your stomach, occasionally flashing him glimpses of your eyes.

His eyes follow your motions and he is utterly unable to take his eyes off you. He allows for the silence to settle once more and instead firmly places his wide hand against yours so he could feel your touch, and where the baby will be. You notice a gentle smile paint his face, and with each second it seems to be widening more and more.

That’s your favorite side of him to see and it’s fine, he doesn’t need to say anything more, his gesture is just enough to show you how content he is right now.

However, as soon as both your eyes lock back onto each other, he leans in to melt a kiss against your partly open lips. Now that he’s much closer, you can hear his heavy breathing growing steadied. Then, you feel his hand slowly creep closer to your lower back and within a few seconds, he begins pushing you closer toward him. His other hand finds your thighs as a resting spot. His fingers tug at your skin but different than usual, it’s rather a gentle grip that still pushes you to make some noises that are music to his ears.

Shortly after, he parts away from you. “God, the way you’ll look so stunning.” He mouths softly and immediately eyes your belly again.

He can’t lie to himself but feel a little worried about how he’ll handle a child. Not that it’ll be a hard thing to do, but… will he be a good one? Will he be up to his own standards and be the father he never had but yearned so deeply for? Will he take good care of you? Is he worthy of such a blessing in his life? And most importantly, will you still consider him worthy of being a father afterwards? You know, definitely not because he wants more than one child.

[nohoes-bedempty]

Fly on the windscreen

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

⚠️18+: smut, stablished relationship. Use of petnames. p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap ittt), Eddie cums in your glasses. Reader wears glasses.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Entirely self-indulgent, honestly, because I have a thing for glasses and I projected myself in him since I can't do what he does in this one ): I'D LET HIM. If I missed any tags please let me know, I'm not a constant writer and there's a lot of etiquette missing. Also, english is not my mother language.

Title inspired in "Fly on the Windscreen, Depeche Mode (Black Celebration, 1986)

“Alright, so we’re going for ‘sexy librarian’ then?”

You glare at him.

“Okay, okay… sorry.” Eddie holds his hands up in surrender, the corners of his lips stretching his mouth downwards and baring his bottom teeth in regret and a bit of concern. He said it to lift up your spirits, not to make you feel bad about it, his strides quickening to open the door of his van for you after you exit the optical shop.

“I look terrible.” You pout, looking away from him.

After realizing a street advertisement looked too blurry and unfocused, and having your eyes feeling tired without making a lot of effort, you realized you needed prescription glasses, and this was the first pair you got, unable to actually choose something decent since you weren’t excited about having to wear them in the first place. Eddie frowns in concern, stopping once you’ve reached the passenger door and gently cupping your jaw to have you looking at him, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek.

“Hey, hey… you’re beautiful no matter what you’re wearing, I like them.” He reassures you with a soft whisper. “I mean, it’s not about what I like, but if it makes you feel better, I do think you look hot.”

You decide to believe him for now, or at least decide not to reject his praise, giving him a small smile that wasn’t genuine but wasn’t like your usual loving, shy smiles either, staying silent as he drives. He notices, but decides not to comment on it, parking the van outside his trailer, and hopping off to open your door, shutting it closed and guiding you to his house, the familiar sound of gravel crunching under your steps giving you a bit of comfort.

He opens the door for you, ready to make a joke about asking you if you can see where you’re stepping, but you’re deflated about having to wear glasses and that would only make it worse, so he holds it back, at least until you’re in the mood.

It’s hot outside, and maybe it’s because you chose frames too wide for your face, or because your face is a little sweaty, but they slip down your nose and you have to slide your glasses back up the top of the bridge of your nose every now and then, a gesture that has Eddie shaking in the knees; it’s subtle, and it shouldn’t be this attractive, but it is. Maybe it’s because it’s you. That, or Eddie Munson just found out he has a thing for glasses.

Or he has a thing for you in glasses?

Whatever it is, you’re oblivious to it, fanning your face with his Kerrang! magazine and your body slumped in the old couch, watching a re-run you don’t know what it’s about, you’re not really paying attention, only making your boyfriend company. You’re too hot to think of anything other than how much you want to take the dumb glasses off and imagining a big ice bath to calm the heat, eyes hooded in a hazy state of weather-induced heaviness.

Despite the heat, you’re not too hot to reject Eddie’s closeness, to the way his arm is wrapped around you and pulling you flush against him or the way his thumb brushes your shoulder softly, almost absentmindedly. Almost, because he’s aware of every nerve reacting to touching you, he always is. He loves touching you.

Forty minutes in or so, after being this close, you decide enough is enough, and you get up from the couch with a sigh, pulling the collar of your shirt to fan your chest. Eddie looks up in confusion, and you swear you hear his heart cracking just a little from the distance and the sudden loss of your weight and warmth on the side of his body, giving you a confused, doe-eyed look as he meets your eyes.

You catch on it, and you’d be lying if you dared to say it didn’t crack your heart too. When you started dating him, you were warned that he was clingy, you just didn’t grasp on how much until things like these started to happen.

“I’m just heading to the kitchen, baby. I want a snack.” It doesn’t convince him, not because he thinks you won’t get snacks but because the time you’ll be away from him seems like an eternity, so he stands up to follow you, loving to know you feel so comfortable around his trailer to really make yourself at home and, free to roam around the cabinets to steal stuff from his snack stash, stash he fills up religiously every now and then just because he knows you’ll be coming over.

“Wayne brought a buncha’ lemons the other day, wanna make some lemonade?” he suggests with both hands supporting his weight on the edge of the small counter, yes for your sake, but it’s hot outside, and he is, too, in need of something to cool off.

You look at him mid opening a candy bar, your eyes sparkling behind the specs, the image of a cold lemonade with clinking ice-cubes making your mouth water.

“Yes. Yes, please.” You almost beg, and he grins at you, with the signature grin with dimples and teeth, saccharine and loving that makes you think you might as well squeeze the lemon in your mouth and take iced water because all the sugary feature was in him. You both work on it, unmolding the ice-cubes first inside the jug, you cutting the lemons and him squeezing them.

There was a moment during your teamwork where you stare at his arms flexing whenever he squeezes the half of a lemon, making your movements slower and a little less calculated, and he notices, getting distracted by the way your lips are parted while looking at him, and the damn glasses catching the light of the sun peeking through the small windows.

He squeezes a little too hard, making a squirt of lemon juice fly in your direction. Your eye, most specifically.

It seems to happen in slow motion, and you brace yourself for the wet spurt and the burn that follows, but it never comes. You pop one eye open, then open both, realizing that the shot was shielded by your glasses, and you both share a look of shock mixed with relief, jaws dropped with nervous chuckles.

“See, sweetheart? That was totally on purpose, completely calculated so you, uh… appreciate the protection your eyes get with your newly acquired glasses.” He says the last statement with a mocking T.V. advertisement voice, a teasing smirk gracing his features.

You roll your eyes at him, but the chuckle that follows lets Eddie know he’s safe, and it’s of course, music to his ears, making his chest flutter with warmth. The lemon juice drips from your glasses and you watch the drop fall on the countertop, a drop he follows, a spark of something flashing and dying in his eyes before you can figure out what. You sigh, taking your glasses off to rinse them, pat-dry them with a paper towel and put them back on. “Nothing happened here.” You say as you continue making your drinks.

Eddie says nothing, helping out with what was left to do before pouring glasses for the both of you, glasses he admits upcycling from candles that burnt off completely. The taste is wonderful, just the perfect amount of sweet and sour refreshing your tongue and cooling down deliciously as it cascades down your throat, letting out a satisfied sigh with your body relaxed on the couch.

“Perfect.” You mutter to yourself, but Eddie hears you. You’re so entranced on your icy beverage and the relief it offers that you’re oblivious of Eddie’s eyes on your profile and the way your glasses slipped down, reaching out in auto-pilot to adjust them himself. You look at him to thank him, an amused smile dying as soon as you turn to him, noticing that signature filthy gaze. You say nothing, your eyes slowly dropping to his crotch, noticing the unexpected growing bulge, opening your mouth to say something but the only thing that you can work is to cock an eyebrow, your eyes returning to his face. He notices you looking at him, and chuckles, a nervous smirk making him bare his teeth.

“Sorry, baby, I just- I really like your glasses.”

It’s your turn to chuckle, and for an instant you think he’s just saying that, just to make you feel less self-conscious about your glasses, but you know him better than that, you know every compliment paid to you is crafted from the bottom of his heart, knitted from his very soul, and you can’t retort, trying to dig inside your brain to come up with a witty come back to comment on how pathetic it is to get a boner from a pair of glasses, but you can’t find your words, your mouth agape just in case something does come out.

Since nothing comes out, he blindly leaves his half-finished lemonade on the coffee table, shifting closer to you to take yours from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours and his molten chocolate eyes locked on your framed ones, cupping your cheek when his hands are free.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers against the cheek he’s not holding, pressing a soft, but not chaste kiss, making his way to your lips. The initial confusion vanishes the moment his lips move against yours, and you kiss him back in kind, your hands cupping his face, twisting your body to face him and keep kissing him more comfortably.

His cock aches inside the strained jeans, and you end up getting up the couch with your lips connected as he blindly walks you to his bedroom, backing you until you enter and he slams the door shut with his foot.

You collide on his bed together, soft hums and sighs leaving between kisses once his lips find yours again and kiss you beyond stupid, his tongue sliding inside your mouth and licking into it, tasting the lemonade on your tongue. He pulls away slightly to brush your nose with his, panting lightly, his breath fanning over your face, and he’s met with your now foggy glasses that you only notice when you open your eyes to look at him. You chuckle, he doesn’t.

All you know is that his hands are traveling to your jeans, unbuttoning them as his lips trail down to your neck, nibbling and kissing the sensitive, damp skin, salty in his taste buds but sweet in his senses.

“Let me steam up those glasses some more, yeah?” he speaks huskily against your skin and you feel your soul leave your body when his fingers hook under the waistband of your jeans and he pulls them down as he speaks those words.

You want to nod, but you know better than just nodding, so you mutter a breathy 'yes' that makes him beam at you, kicking your shoes off to help him maneuver, your jeans slowly being peeled off your legs and Eddie propping on his elbows now that the pesky item is out of his way.

He kisses the inside of your thigh lovingly, his hand squeezing the flesh and fat of it, his cheek flush against the soft skin with closed eyes that only open to look up at you and your crimson-dusted cheeks, his eyes blissed-out at the sight. He’s back at your thighs, kissing his way to your clothed core until he reaches his destination, kissing your mound over your cotton panties that have already a dark stain of your slick, and Eddie plays with it, mouthing and licking over the fabric.

A pretty whimper escapes your mouth, and Eddie swears any heavenly riff he’s attentively listened to from his favorite guitarists could never compare to the actual heaven it was to listen to your sounds, sounds he was causing.

“Mmm… yeah, sweetheart. Starting off good.” He coos, kissing your cunt and running his fingers over the damp spot of your panties, reaching out to the seam and pulling them down to reveal a glistening treasure he so eagerly wanted to devour.

“Hello there, pretty… you missed me?” he grins, his eyes locked on the shiny dew of your pussy. “Still thirsty, baby. This is what I should have drunk.” Eddie takes a moment to admire your bare pussy in front of him, licking his lips before leaning in to finally connect his lips with your folds. He’s too desperate to taste you and finds no need to tease you further.

He licks up a fat stripe, collecting your slick and moaning against your pussy when he tastes you, his eyes fluttering closed when his tongue darts a second time to lick and reach your clit, barely brushing it. Eddie loves tasting you, every drop you give him and every sound he gently rips off you makes him believe heaven does exist and it is between your legs, and he does his best to make it clear whenever you let him in that little space. He flattens his tongue and bobs his head, rutting it against your clit, and your back arches, his hands reaching for your hips to keep you down on the bed, smiling but never stopping what he’s doing. You look down at him, only met with white fog that makes the movement happening blurry, and you reach up to take the glasses off, but Eddie is quick to stop you, shaking his head and tutting.

“No, keep them on…” he commands before his plush lips find your clit, and if you thought you were feeling so good before, now it’s a hundred times better, mewls and loud moans spilling from your lips and rewarding his efforts, your fingers burying in the roots of his hair. Eddie does his best not to grind against the mattress, because he does need the relief, but your taste and sounds are enough to pinch his shirt and drag him slowly towards the cliff of pleasure he wants nothing but to simply have a look when in this moment it's all about you. He wants to bury himself in you after making you come, so he waits and loses himself in your taste.

He eats pussy like he makes out, like he’s kissing your mouth and taunting you with his tongue, and he pulls away only a little to look at you, to admire the mess you’re making for him.

“So puffy for me, she is…” he smiles to himself, taking your clit in his lips and sucking gently, switching between gentle suction and quick flicks of his tongue, kitten licks that send electric shocks to the tips of your fingers and toes. He dives in some more, hardening his tongue collecting more of your arousal and up to our clit, your fingers gripping tighter when you feel your orgasm come in tidal waves, and he knows, he has memorized and learned every reaction you gift him when you’re about to come.

“E-Eddie… I’m close…” you breath out.

“I know, baby…” he mutters against your folds. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Come for me, come all over my tongue, yeah? Wanna taste it, wanna drink it all.”

Eddie doubles his efforts, making sure his tongue laps and moves just the way you like it, and in no time, you come, tripping over the edge in free fall and moaning his name loudly in between gasps. He guides you through it, helping you ride your orgasm with his tongue, the wet heat of his spit mixed with your arousal making your brain turn into mush.

When your grip in his hair looses, he rests his cheek on the inside of your thigh, brushing soothing motions on your skin as he looks at you. He wishes he could see your blown-wide pupils, meeting your foggy specs instead, but that only fuels his desire. You lift up your head, reaching for your glasses with the intention of removing them but stopping immediately.

You try to sit up, try to reach out and help him undo his jeans, earning a questioning look from him.

“What are you doing, baby?”

“I want to return the favor” you say still a little breathless. He chuckles, considering your offer.

“Can you do it after I fuck you? I need to be inside you, like… Yesterday. Can I come on that pretty face?”

Your breath hitches, because he barely ever asks to come on your face, but you nod from where you are, watching him unbuckle his belt, the sound making heat spread south despite just coming. Eddie fumbles with his jeans, feeling like he’s not moving fast enough when you’re there waiting for him, watching you struggle to remove your top without taking your glasses off and smiling satisfied to himself.

He removes his shirt and greets you with subtle muscles built from shredding guitar and carrying heavy stuff at The Hideout, inked chest smooth and calling you to devour it, and you spread your legs, hooking one around his waist to pull him in, to which he obliges far too easy. Eddie leans forward with a loving grin and glittery wide eyes that seem to be dripping syrup, kissing your cheek as he positions between your legs, holding your cheek in a rough, large palm that has you leaning into his touch, kissing the other side of your face.

“You’re beautiful. So, so beautiful…” he mutters near your ear, nosing your jawline.

He reaches down to line himself with you, rubbing the already leaking tip against your soaked folds, letting out a soft groan at the way it so easily glides, red tip needy for tucking, and your pussy is just the right cradle. His tip stays right in your entrance for a moment, his hand sliding on your side, savoring your skin and the contrast of its color between his and yours, the texture of it against his palms and the way goosebumps awake under his touch, and his hips start to push, slowly and calculated, savoring the pretty whine he rips off you when he starts to stretch you, a familiar sensation that somehow always ended feeling like the first time.

“Fuck, baby… that pretty pussy needed to be filled, eh?” he attempts to tease, but a small whimper leaves him as soon as he finishes speaking. “Eddie… Fuck, you feel so good…”

He takes pride on it, on the way you squirm and pant and whine underneath him, slowly pushing inside you until he’s buried deep inside the holy well that is your cunt, pausing for a moment to give you time to adjust but also because you feel so good he just has to stop. Eddie rests his forehead on the crook of your neck, and you caress his back to soothe him, your other hand petting his hair, peppering kisses on the crown of his head until he feels ready.

“Gonna move, baby… can I please move? Fuck, you take me so well…” he mutters against your neck.

“Yes… please move.” You whisper back.

His hips start to roll against yours, a slow pace to keep himself on check and not bust inside you this soon, kissing your jaw and panting against your skin when his pace fastened just a tiny bit.

“You’re swallowing me, baby… precious, tight pussy just wanted my cock…”

You whine at his words, the contrast between the sweetness and filth of them sending another wave of heat pooling right where he was currently burying himself, your hands traveling to grip his shoulder. Your sounds only spur him on, his hips picking up pace until he’s jackhammering you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in his poster-filled room that you have gotten so used to.

“Give me another one, baby… please… please let me hear you… my pretty baby…” he whines and reaches down to draw tight circles on your clit with his thumb, his eyes fixed on you the entire time to drink in every reaction he can get from you.

It hits with crashing force before you can’t even feel it coming, your back arching off the bed, eyebrows knitted together as chants of his name spill from your lips, his hips relentless against yours. He pulls away from your neck to look down at you, just to look at your foggy glasses and flushed cheeks, and his guitar pick necklace is dangling in your face. That sight alone usually gets you off, but he suddenly hears the pick clinking against your glasses, and he has to double check to make sure he’s hearing right. When he confirms that, indeed, his necklace is dangling and clinking against your glasses, he lets out a groan of a newly discovered thing that got him off, and the promise of your mouth around him vanishes when he feels like he’s about to taste that high from the sound, the proof that he's above you, pouding into you.

He pulls out of you so suddenly you can’t even whine in protest, kneeled and approaching your face while stroking himself, straddling your shoulders and looking down at you with a sense of urgency and half-apologetic eyes.

“S-sorry, baby… I just-“

You quickly press your lips into a thin line, looking up at him with wide eyes he can’t really see behind the mist in your glasses, and suddenly your vision blurs, white ropes landing on your specs with near-expert aim as he empties himself on them, pretty whines of your name dripping from his plush lips until he’s done, panting hard and brain shambles, every thought melting together, only leaving room in his mind for your name and the sight of his creation, his eyes fixed on the way it drips from your glasses.

Your first reaction was to scoff, but it’s been a while since you’ve seen him this fucked out, so you embrace it, bask on it, pulling the glasses down the bridge of your nose just enough to look at him over the frames while keeping them on to give him the show he started and that he clearly enjoys so much. Eddie chuckles breathlessly, looking at you and catching on your very considerate gesture, leaning down to kiss your cheek lovingly and taking your glasses off.

“Be right back, yeah?” You stay on his bed trying to catch your breath, eyes fluttered closed while hearing him rustle in the bathroom. He comes back with a damp cloth and your classes cleaned up, wiping off any remnants of his release from your face and cleaning between your legs too.

“You okay?” he asks softly. “Yeah…” you mutter in a whisper.

Eddie smiles at you, tossing the cloth to his bedside table and laying on his side to cuddle you, brushing his thumb against the apple of your cheek, propped on one elbow and resting his head on his palm.

“Do you believe me now?” he asks softly.

“Believe what?”

“That I really like your glasses.”

You chuckle at that, shaking your head slightly.

“I mean, I never doubted you, but that was a way of showing me how much you meant it.” It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh, and he cups your jaw to press a kiss on your forehead, his smile proud and a hum rumbling in his chest.

“And do you like them now?” he inquires with a pretty grin that’s all dimples and teeth. You consider it, chewing on your lower lip.

“I think I just learned to like them, yes."

[chuuyascumsock]

Well This Is Just Slut-tastic || Minors DNI

Summary: Hey guys, here’s the sexless virgin back again to write about something they have no clue about but acts like she does.

Tags: Female! Chuuya Nakahara/Reader, Female reader, LESBIANS LESBIANS LESBIANS, Gay As Hell Sex, I’ve Never Had Sex, Help What Is Sex, Power Imbalance (You’re Her Subordinate), Petnames (Baby, Doll, Princess, Pretty Girl, etc.), Thigh Riding, Cunnilingus (momentarily tbh), Sucking Titties Because I Love Titties IRL, Uhhhh And A Side Of Scissoring, Classic Lesbian W.

Chuuya wasn’t used to being invited to out-of-work events by her co-workers. She couldn’t count how many times she’s seen the same uncomfortable look that’s crossed people’s faces when she walked by or even happened to be in their presence. Like they were scared of her. Being one of the executives came with its title which skewed every individual’s image every time it was brought to light about how much power she held. And it got lonely.

Until you showed up.

“Do you wanna come over for a girl’s night and sleepover at my place?”

At first, Chuuya had thought of you to be obnoxious with your kind compliments and gentle eyes– thinking of it to be a complete facade– much like how Dazai wears a mask to keep others from getting too close. But as you were placed under her as her subordinate by Mori, she came to see that there were no hidden motives or facade. You were the most genuine person she had ever come across. She’d be lying if your compliments didn’t stick with her and leave her blushing with her heart pounding in her chest. Especially when you told her how pretty you thought she looked.

“We can watch The Girl and Her Dog,” You add, watching the taken aback look on Chuuya’s face diminish into a spark of excitement in her eyes.

“Really?”

You nod, jutting your bottom lip out slightly, “So can you? Pleeease, Chuuya?”

Chuuya always wondered how you managed to get away with calling her by her first name so casually like you had known each other for years. It’s not like she did much about it anyways— a small part of her enjoyed the way her name rolled off your tongue. It felt… Intimate. Something she didn’t experience much with any of her other co-workers.

“Fine,” She sighs in defeat. Though it seems unprofessional to do things like this with her subordinate— what’s the harm?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Fuck, did you have to keep it so cold in your apartment?

From the moment Chuuya stepped into your home, she’s been shivering nonstop. When asked about why it was so cold, you just tilted your head with an innocent smile, “Is it? I haven’t noticed.” How could you not feel it? Being in a tight tank top and skimpy shorts— you must’ve been lying.

If it wasn’t for Chuuya’s thick long-sleeved shirt, it was safe to say that her hard nippes would’ve made an appearance through a thinner fabric, just like your siff peaks through the tank top her eyes linger on. But she keeps her mouth shut, refusing to complain or comment about the temperature any longer after you’ve been so kind to her by offering a blanket (it didn’t help much).

You're as perceptive as ever though.

You watch her body tremble under the blanket occasionally— her eyes glued to the TV as she attempts to keep her mind off the cold. “If you want, we can cuddle. I don’t have anymore backup blankets,” You giggle.

Chuuya nearly immediately accepts, but then hesitates with a mixed expression on her face, “Isn’t that weird?”

“Why would it be weird? It’s only weird if you make it weird,” You turn your head back to face the TV.

She sits there, contemplating for a good minute before slowly shuffling over next to you until your shoulders pressed against one another. “Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Chuuya huffs, leaning into your surprisingly warm body. It takes everything in her to not react when you shift your body to wrap your arms around one of hers and hug her arm into your plush tits. A vivid blush crosses her face, fortunately barely visible due to the darkness engulfing the room.

“I won’t.”

Chuuya feels your eyes linger on her stiff posture before you relax against her body and rest your head on her shoulder. She’s stopped shivering, but at the cost of thinking about how your cute, perky nipples would feel with her lips wrapped around them.

It doesn’t get any better as the night continues and you tell her that you won’t stand for her sleeping on your uncomfortable couch.

You roll over to face Chuuya in your bed— eyes blurring in the dark for a few moments before you get a clear outline of her face. “Are you alright, Chuuya?” Your voice is soft, as well as your touch, your hand reaching to tuck a piece of her bangs away from her eyes.

Chuuya shivers at how your fingertips ghost over her skin, “I’m fine, why?” The subtle tremble in her voice betrays her reassurance, her thighs shifting under the covers to rub together from your electric touch and the cold.

Your eyes flicker over her face before you near her, your noses a few inches away, “Are you sure? You’re shivering again— we can always cuddle like earlier, I don’t mind.”

Or you could turn the AC down.

Groaning, Chuuya gives in once more to your warmth and sinks into your arms when you pull her close. “Can’t you turn the AC down?” She speaks her mind, only to be shut down quickly.

“Sorry, don’t know where it is, so I can’t change it,” What a lousy excuse and a lie, but Chuuya doesn’t comment or point it out— too distracted by the way her chest presses against yours.

Suddenly, there’s no space between either of you and everything begins to feel all too hot and sensitive.

With such little personal space, it wasn’t much of a surprise that Chuuya’s mind began to wander. Thoughts of what would happen if the distance between your lips closed and she could have her way with you evaded her, only adding to the heat.

“For someone who says she’s cold, you feel very warm right now, Chuuya,” You point out with a small smile, yet don’t make any attempts to move away.

Chuuya shivers when you shift just barely, your breasts sliding against hers as you adjust your position. With your noses now touching, she’s sure that she isn’t just imagining things. “Shut up…” She whispers.

Your eyes bore into her and she feels like she could just melt under your gaze. “You know, I meant what I said every time I said you looked absolutely beautiful and any guy would be lucky to have you,” You murmur softly.

Chuuya feels her heart skip a beat, but at the same time— a small bit of irritation nips at Chuuya when you mention her being with men. Was it not obvious enough that she wasn’t interested in them? “I don’t like men.”

“Oh…” To anyone else, it would’ve sounded like you were surprised, yet Chuuya could tell that it was something else, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

There’s a small huff from Chuuya, “No, but I am annoyed that you still refuse to make a move even after telling you I don’t have an interest in men.”

“I was just trying to be cordial,” You respond quietly.

“I think we crossed that line hours ago,” She mutters before closing the gap between the both of you to press her lips against yours.

It’s firm and straight to the point, it almost feels like she’s still trying to be professional, even when she’s kissing. And it makes you giggle against her lips.

She pulls away with a quiet growl, “What’re you giggling at?”

“It’s just that your kisses fit you.”

“What’s wrong with the way I kiss?” Her brows furrow.

You move your arms away from around her waist before cupping her cheeks, “Nothing, I just thought it was cute. You don’t have to be so stiff, though.”

“Whatever,” She grumbles before you pull her into another kiss, this time much softer as she relaxes.

Chuuya’s hand falls to grab at your hip, pulling you closer to hook one of your legs over her own hip. You shiver as she rubs her hand along the expansion of your outer thigh, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

When you part your lips, she’s eager to angle her head and deepen the kiss, her tongue invading your mouth as she moves her hand from your thigh to your ass. Her hand squeezes the fat of your ass momentarily, earning a muffled moan against her mouth and your hips jerking into her thigh between your legs.

Chuuya’s lips part from yours and she pants out, her warm breath hovering over your lips, “Have I ever told you that I think you’re fucking hot?” When you shake your head in a small ‘no’, she grips her fingers further into your fat to grind your clothed crotch over her thigh again. “Well you are— n’you make me so fuckin’ wet, baby.” She groans, moving to entangle her tongue with yours again.

The kiss grows sloppy and wet as your lips smack together loudly, a sheen of spit coating both of your lips, her hands not giving away at forcing your hips down against her muscled thigh. You begin to grind down on her thigh, small noises escaping the back of your throat as you feel the pressure rub against your clit through your clothes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” You heave out when pulling away from the messy kiss.

“Yeah? You want me?” She moves her kisses along your jaw and down your throat. She’s given a quick nod from you in return which makes her grin, “I want you too, pretty girl.” Her teeth sink into the skin of your neck softly before she sucks at the spot, leaving a noticeable hickey above the base of your neck.

“Please… Wanna see you,” You plead, tugging at her long sleeved shirt, wanting it off.

Chuuya obliges and fumbles to take it off with how close the two of you are. She tosses her shirt away somewhere in your room and it, revealing her small, pert tits.

“They’re so pretty,” You mumble, hands trailing to run overly flatly against her chest.

“H-Hey, I can’t be the only one taking stuff off,” She shudders at your touch, her own hands coming to tug at your tank top to pull it off. Both topless and bare, you shiver, noticing just how cold your apartment really was, “Told you it was fuckin’ cold.” Her hands grab at your ass to pull you up further, her face now level with your breasts.

Your lips part into a moan when she takes one of your nipples into her mouth, rolling the hard bud between her tongue and teeth. “F-Fuck— yeah— well I was fine with it before cause it got you close to me,” One of your hands come up to thread into her soft locks as she sucks at your nipple. She takes the other nipple between two of her fingers to rub and play with as she hums against your skin.

“So you made it cold just so you could be close with me, hm? God, you just get cuter and cuter, baby,” Her words vibrate against your skin before she pulls away from your nipple with a quiet ‘pop’ and moves to the other one to suck on.

“A-Ah, Chuuya, that hurts,” You whine as she roughly pinches your nipples between her teeth and fingers.

“Yeah, well you don’t get to complain after I froze my ass off f’you instead of going home like I would’ve usually done,” She moves away from your chest to litter your sternum with love bites.

A pout settles over your lips as you tug at her hair, “I wanna have fun with you too, s’not fair that you get to do whatever.”

She puffs her cheeks out slightly, “You’re so impatient, you know that? Bet you’re wet,” She continues to kiss and nip at your skin, a hand reaching down to snap the waistband of your shorts against your hip.

“You’re one to talk— I bet you’re soaking,” You want to reach down to her own shorts, but she has you positioned in a way you can’t reach them, “This isn’t fair.”

“Really? I disagree,” She grins, maneuvering the both of you until you’re lying on your back and she’s hovering over you. Her hands quickly come to tug at the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pulling them off with ease as you lift your hips to help her. “Fuck, spread those legs for me, doll— wanna see that cute pussy of yours.”

It’s embarrassing, but you can’t help but open your legs at her demand to reveal your wet folds glistening with arousal. Her stare burns into your skin, making you squirm under her, “No more— I want to feel you, Chuu.”

Chuuya waves you off as she huffs through her nose, hands holding your thighs apart as she lowers her face down, “After I get a taste— then you can have me all you want, princess. But I need this,” She insists, tongue lolling out to lick a strip up through your puffy folds to collect your taste on her tongue. “You taste so good, y’know that, baby?” She buries her face back between your thighs to press wet kisses against your sopping pussy, uncaring of how messy they were.

Your thighs clamp around her head, fingers threading tightly into her hair as you needily rut your hips against her mouth, “Mm, feels good— but I really want you, Chuu. Please? A-Ah… Wanna feel your pussy on mine.” You whine.

Chuuya groans against you, the vibrations against your clit making you shiver and buck your hips against her before she sits up, “Fine, but next time, you better let me have a proper taste.”

“Promise, okay? But please— just need you s’bad,” You watch her with an impatient stare as she strips herself of her shorts and underwear, leaving her bare for you to see.

“Love how needy you are f’me, baby,” She sighs out as she fits herself between your legs, one of hers straddling over one of your legs to rest by your hip and the other resting near your ass. She grabs the latter leg and holds your leg against her chest for stability and leverage.

You can’t see much from the angle you’re at, but you can feel how wet she is when she lowers her pussy to come flush with you. And it makes you shudder feeling her slick leak from her soft pussy onto yours. “Oh my god…” Your head falls back onto the pillow when she moves her hand hand between the both of you to spread your sticky folds apart for her slippery cunt to slide across yours until her clit bumps yours.

“Fuck, I can feel you throbbing against me,” Chuuya gasps, pressing down against you harder. “Can’t believe you’re getting off on rubbing pussies with your superior, naughty girl,” She growls out, hand tightening around your leg.

You reach a hand out to fondle one of her perky tits as you try your best to rut your hips back against hers in rhythm, “Can’t help it, you’re s’pretty, Chuu.”

Chuuya moans, her chest arching into your hand as she grinds harder against your pussy, the arousal between you both creating a lewd schlicking noise with each time she moves her hips. “I think you’re pretty too, baby. The prettiest— fuck— the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your soft groans and moans fall into desperate whimpers as your hand plays with her sensitive nipples and her grinding turns into bucking her hips roughly against yours erratically. “M’gonna come— Chuu, your pussy feels so good.”

“Yeah? Wanna feel you come all over my pussy, pretty,” She hunches over to smash her lips against yours, her hips animalistically rutting along with you— desperate to feel your nubby clit rub against hers again.

Jolts of pleasure shoot down your spine as the new angle of her hips and her tongue violating your mouth sends you over the edge. Your toes curl and thighs quake as your lips tremble against hers in the hazy kiss, your cum leaking from your clenching hole to join the slick between your legs.

Chuuya isn’t far behind as her hips falter and slow to long and tedious movements to ride out her own orgasm. You both pant against each other with open-mouths, pulling away just enough to look at the mess between the both of you.

Both of your pussies glisten with cum, threads of arousal connecting each other before Chuuya pulls away completely. “God, you’re so good,” She whispers as she places a soft kiss to your lips before you both untangle your limbs from one another to lie down and cuddle under the covers.

You bury your face into the crook of her neck, “Do you think I should turn the AC off?”

“Yeah— I wasn’t going to say anything, but I’m still really fucking cold.”

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part II

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 3799

STORY PAGE

The pavement was wet from the rain as you stepped onto the curb. You cursed yourself for wearing your best shoes, knowing you’d have blisters by the time you got home. Looking up at the sky, you noticed the rain had let up, so you quickly shut your umbrella, eyeing the cafe in front of you. The HELP WANTED sign in the window caught your attention. With a sigh, you pulled open the door. If you couldn’t find a job today, at least you could dry off with a latte and a muffin.

“What can I get you?” asked the woman behind the counter.

“Yes, I saw your sign up front? What’s the job?”

The older man who had his back to you called out, “You got experience?”

“Uh, yes sir, if you mean waiting tables.”

The man turned around, his face expressionless. “What about cash register?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve done that too. All kinds of retail and customer service.”

“Any days you aren’t available? I need weekends.”

“Yes, sir. I mean…no sir, I’m free everyday.”

“Good. Fill this out.” The man reached behind the counter and pulled out an application, then grabbed a pen from a nearby jar, handing them both to you.

“Thank you,” you grinned. “Oh. And can I get a vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin?”

After paying for your order, you sat down at the nearest table to begin filling out the application. You were nearly halfway through it when a shadow fell over your paper and you heard a familiar voice.

“I don’t believe it.”

Looking up, you saw him standing next to the counter. He wore a black hoodie and shorts, his windblown hair pushed back by sunglasses.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, gripping the pen tightly. If it had been a pencil, it would have snapped. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…it’s a cafe. I’m getting coffee.”

Pursing your lips, you shifted your chair so you were facing away from him. You heard him order a flat white before his sneakered feet squeaked past you to a table by the window. You grimaced as you watched him open his backpack and pull out a laptop.

“Here you are ma’am,” said the woman who had been behind the counter.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at her as she set your coffee and muffin on the table. Then she walked over to Harry, serving him his order.

“I can’t believe this,” you mumbled to yourself, knowing he had no plans to leave any time soon.

Trying your best to concentrate, you managed to get to the last page of the application before raising your head to find Harry staring at you.

“Do you mind?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Looking for a job?”

You couldn’t tell if he was being facetious or genuine.

“What do you care?” you grumbled.

“I…” he began before changing his mind with a shrug. Then he took a sip of his coffee and returned his attention to his computer.

Signing your name at the bottom of the application, you rose from your chair to turn it in.

“Why’d you leave your last job?” asked the man after he scanned your paper.

Your stomach went sour, your throat closing up. You’d dreaded that question all day. Seemed no one wanted to give a smart-mouth cocktail waitress a second chance.

“It just…wasn’t the right fit for me,” you replied.

“After two years? Zelda’s huh? That some fancy joint?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you think this coffee shop is a better fit?” the man chuckled.

“I don’t know. But I’d like the chance to try.”

Hesitating, the man shrugged. “I’m gonna need a good reference. Is it alright to call your last employer?”

“Oh. Uh…” You thought you might throw up. “I don’t-”

“I can vouch for her, Stan.”

You swung around, incredulous to what you’d just heard. He was vouching for you?

“You know this young lady, Harry?” asked Stan.

“Yeah.” Harry stood up and walked over to you. “Celebrated my birthday at Zelda’s, and she was my waitress.”

“Oh?”

Harry looked you straight in the eye and said, “She was brilliant. Best waitress I ever had.”

If your knees hadn’t just about buckled then, you might have noticed your jaw dropping. What?!

“Well, that’s good enough for me,” offered Stan. “Tell you what. Come back tomorrow. Ten o’clock. We’ll see if it’s a good fit.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did Harry just help you get a job?

“Thank you,” you let out a breath and quickly beamed at Stan. “See you then.”

Although he remained standing near your table, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Harry as you gathered your things, gulping down the last of your coffee. Then swinging your purse over your shoulder, you turned for the exit.

“Y/N,” you heard him say, but rather than make the situation more awkward, you merely muttered a quick thanks.

It wasn’t until you were out the door that you heard him call you again, this time louder.

“Y/N!”

With a deep sigh, you stopped walking. Harry caught up to you, something of yours in his hand.

“You forgot your umbrella,” he explained.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” 

As you took it from him, your hands brushed, sending an unexpected electric current through your skin. You finally looked at him then, his eyes sincere. For the first time, you noticed they were a light green, a darker circle lining the irises. The wind whipped around you, and you caught a whiff of his…cologne? Perhaps it was just soap or some kind of body wash. Either way, he smelled nice. Clean. Like he’d just showered, though he’d skipped the shave. You noted the facial hair on his top lip and along his jaw, and found yourself wondering how many unshaven days it took to grow.

Suddenly, you stepped back, worried that you’d been staring and that he’d noticed. Surely, he’d noticed.

“Um…good luck tomorrow,” you heard him say as you pretended to check for something in your bag.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Why was he being so nice?

“Well…see ya,” he gave a slight gesture of his hand before turning back toward the cafe.

“Harry?” you called after him.

“Yeah?”

You took two steps closer to him, but careful to still keep a distance.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why…did you do that?”

Harry shrugged as though the answer were simple. “I caused you to lose your last job. So I helped you get a new one.”

Unable to respond, you stood still as you watched him reenter the cafe, feeling completely bewildered.

You sat in the small room in the back of the cafe during your break, sipping on a nitro cold brew that your co-worker Jill had taught you how to make. It was only your third day, but so far you liked working there. It definitely wasn’t Zelda’s, but it was better than nothing. The clientele was different to say the least, but you were enjoying the somewhat pleasant and low-key atmosphere.

Stan, the manager, had seemed to take you under his wing. You wondered if it had to do with Harry, and what exactly his relationship was to him. You assumed he was a regular customer at the cafe, though you hadn’t seen him return since you started working there.

As you scrolled through your phone, you suddenly got a text message from Shae.

Look who’s having a special this weekend.

Underneath was a link to Fine Line Ink’s Instagram page. You’d told your roommate about the entire encounter with Harry and how he’d basically helped you get your new job. Shae had wondered why on earth you hadn’t just kissed him right there in the middle of the cafe, but she always was a bit dramatic.

The truth was, you didn’t know how to feel about Harry anymore. Your head told yourself you still hated him, that he was a dick who was feeling guilty and needed to cleanse his aura. But your gut told you that he was something more than that. That he truly was sorry for getting you fired, and wanted to make amends.

You scrolled through the photos on the Instagram page, beautiful and striking images of ink on skin. Everything from delicate bracelet tats to full back tattoos and sleeves, some in basic black ink, and some in a rainbow of colors. They were all exquisite. He truly was a good tattoo artist.

Checking the time on your phone, you realized your break was over. Tossing your phone in your bag, you returned them to your locker. After a quick stop to the restroom, you stepped out into the cafe to find him sitting at the same table as before, beside the window. This time, however, he didn’t have his laptop, but rather an iPad, a stylus pencil in his hand. Jill had just set down his flat white when she gasped.

“Wow, that’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed. Then looking up, she saw you. “Y/N, c’mere, you have to see this!”

You shuffled hesitantly over to Harry’s table where he sat with his back to you. Gazing over his shoulder, you saw that he had drawn a raven. The detail was so intricate, down to the branches, flowers and moon. You almost felt as though if you were to reach out and touch the drawing, you could feel the bird’s feathers.

“Isn’t it amazing?” asked Jill.

“Stunning,” you breathed.

“He’s a tattoo artist. I keep telling him I’m gonna come get a tattoo from him, but I’m too chicken,” Jill laughed as she made her way back to the counter.

A couple at a corner table got up to leave then, so you quickly walked over to clean it. As you moved the sugar container, you heard your name. You looked up at him quizzically, though you didn’t say a word.

“How’s the job going so far?” he asked.

“It’s good,” you nodded sharply.

“I’m glad. I come here at least twice a week. Have been for a long time. Stan and Carol are good people.”

“Yeah…I…I can tell.” Carol, you’d learned the other day, was the woman who had been behind the counter when you’d walked in. She was Stan’s wife.

The door opened then and a young woman entered. You secretly hoped you could go help her as an excuse to stop talking to Harry, but Jill beat you to it.

“Do you…need another coffee?” you asked him as he lifted his cup.

He gave you a smirk. “Just got this one.”

“Oh. Right. Anything else?”

“No, I’m good.” Taking a slow sip, he watched you over his cup.

You gave a curt nod before returning to the counter. It was a fairly slow afternoon, and other than a handful of customers who came and went with their coffees to go, you didn’t have much to do. Jill continued to train you on a few more things, and you were grateful for the distraction. Because even though he wasn’t doing anything other than drawing on his iPad and sipping his coffee, Harry’s presence was getting to you.

Making the rounds, you refilled napkin dispensers and Sweet & Low packets, all while sneaking looks at what Harry was drawing. You didn’t know why it even mattered to you, but something about his art was captivating. You watched as his pencil glided across the screen, how he’d sometimes use his thumb and forefinger to zoom in and out. Once, you caught a view of a scene he was drawing - not just one focal point, but rather a series of buildings along a city street, nightfall in the background. Each building had various windows lit up, as well as street lamps. If you hadn’t known better, you’d have thought it was a photograph.

Sometime in the process, you finally took notice of his fingers, how long and slender they were. You paid attention to the way they moved and flexed as he drew, and most importantly, how nearly each one was adorned with some kind of ring. Lost in thought, you almost missed it when he lifted his head to look at you.

“It’s so easy to watch him, isn’t it?” remarked Jill, saving you from embarrassment as she stood next to you. “Sometimes I forget where I am!”

Clearing your throat, you grabbed the rag you were cleaning with and stuffed it in your apron. Then as you finished with the last napkin dispenser, you caught a small smile curling on Harry’s mouth.

Finally, an hour later - an hour and eleven minutes to be exact - Harry slipped his iPad into his backpack and zipped it shut. Pretending to busy yourself behind the muffins, you watched as he slipped his arms through. Then shoving his hand in his pocket, he pulled out his wallet, grabbing a couple of bills and leaving them on the table. As he made his way toward the door, he gave a small wave.

“Goodnight, ladies,” he said.

“Bye, Harry,” Jill called. As soon as he was outside, she slumped against the counter. “Oh my God, I hate when he’s here. I can hardly function!”

Holding back a chuckle, you asked, “Does he just come here to draw?”

“Mostly, yeah. Or sometimes he works on his website. He doesn’t just do tattoos. Like, that’s his livelihood and he’s really good at it. But he’s like…a legit artist.”

“Oh,” you sounded. “You mean, like in a gallery?”

“Mmhmm. I think he had some sort of exhibit a few weeks ago. It’s on his website if you wanna check it out. Harry Styles art dot com.”

Huh. So there was more to Harry than just some drunk prick at a bar. You were anxious to get your phone and look up his website.

“Oh my God!” Jill gasped from the table Harry had just left.

“What?”

“Harry usually just leaves a couple bucks for tip. He left two twenties!”

“Seriously?” you asked, rounding the counter. Why would he do that? “He only had one coffee, right?”

“Yep. What a sweetie! Here!”

Jill handed you one of the twenties, but you shook your head. “But I didn’t wait on him.”

“Doesn’t matter. We split tips at the end of the night anyway. This saves us time.”

Taking the bill, you mentally added one more reason to your list of why this Harry Styles was more than he seemed. Mysteriously generous. Was it a good thing? Or did he have an angle?

You didn’t know. But you were determined to find out.

Shae had a date. For the first time in forever, you had a Friday night off. It was weird, being in the apartment alone on a weekend night. After making a quick, easy meal and watching a couple of episodes of SVU, you were bored. You thought about visiting your old pal John at Zelda’s, but you didn’t wanna take the chance of running into your former boss.

Tapping on your phone, you opened the last website you’d visited - Harry Styles art dot com. Over the last twenty-four hours, you’d opened it at least half a dozen times. Displayed on the main page were photos from an art exhibit in January, the one that Jill had mentioned. While the art itself had no doubt been exquisite, your eyes kept veering to the photos of the artist. He stood in a suit, much like the one he’d worn at Zelda’a. In fact, he looked very similar to the way he had that night, the main exception being that he didn’t appear to be drunk, nor was he frowning. On the contrary, he was smiling in nearly every photograph. You noted the dimples in his cheeks, the crinkles beside his eyes when he smiled, the five o’clock shadow. Even you had to admit - albeit secretly - he was a very handsome man.

As you had scrolled through the various pictures from that night, you soon came across a handful of him standing next to a woman in a long, champagne colored dress that fit her curves, her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Taking a closer look, you recognized her as the girl at the bar, the one whose ear was attached to Harry’s tongue.

Nicolette.

For some reason you felt a twinge in your stomach. Jealously? Shaking your head free of the notion, you continued to peruse the website. Eventually you came to a link that brought you to the site for Fine Line Ink. There you saw the announcement at the top, advertising thirty percent off all tattoos, and forty percent off body piercing, just like the text Shae had sent you the day before.

Setting down your phone, you thought for a moment. You figured he’d be pretty busy on any Friday, but particularly this Friday with the special. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea, but somehow you found yourself driving to Fine Line Ink anyway.

The familiar fragrance of incense wafted through your nostrils as soon as you opened the door. Classic rock seemed to be the genre of choice for the evening as Aerosmith pumped through the speakers. You were right in assuming the shop would be busy, as three other customers sat in the waiting area, filling out their forms.

“Hi, how can I help you?” asked a guy who emerged from the back.

“Yeah, um…I don’t really know yet,” you replied. “I just need to talk to Harry…for a second.”

“Oh. Well, he’s in the middle of a tattoo right now.”

“That’s okay,” you grinned. “I can wait.”

“You sure? It may be a while, and he’s pretty booked up. We have other artists who can h-”

“It’s fine,” you held up your hand. “Seriously. I just need to talk to him when he has a minute.”

“O-okay.”

When the guy shuffled away, you took a seat in the waiting area. You scanned the walls, various artwork adorning them until you spotted a large drawing of the Beatles. Had that been there before? Had Harry drawn it? It was really good, the artistic detail spot on.

You watched another man say goodbye to a customer and then bring another one to the back before Harry finally made his way to the front. To call the look on his face surprised when he saw you would have been an understatement. As he chatted a bit with the client he’d just finished, you suddenly felt butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey,” he said when the guy left. “Kyle said someone was waiting to talk to me. I didn’t know it was you.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you let the words slip from your lips.

Harry shook his head, blinking slowly. “That’s not what I meant.”

You exhaled, hoping your quick response hadn’t offended him. Your reflexes were still on alert. Addressing the other customer who sat next to you, Harry smiled.

“I’ll be right with you, Carlo.”

“Yeah, no problem, man.”

Carlo and Harry both looked at you as Harry gave a tiny grin. “Wanna come back?”

Rising from your chair, you followed Harry through the shop, to the very back where he pushed open a door.

“Come on in,” he gestured.

As he shut the door behind you, you noted the desk in the corner, more artwork on the walls, and bookshelves. Pulling out a chair, Harry asked you to sit.

“Everything going well at the cafe?” he asked you.

“Oh, yeah. It’s fine. Actually, that’s what I came to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” Harry leaned against his desk, his arms crossed. You noticed how tall he seemed standing while you sat.

“Yes,” you cleared your throat. “I realized I never properly thanked you…for helping me get the job.”

His lips twitched as he held back a smile. Or perhaps a smirk. “Alright.”

With a sigh, you looked up at him. “I’m afraid I haven’t acted very grateful. I let my pride and my ego get in the way when you-”

“Y/N,” Harry interrupted. “It’s okay. You have every right to hate me. Still. I said what I did to Stan because I regretted the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve any of it. It was…the only way I knew to make it up to you.”

“Okay…” you swallowed. “Still…thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But…”

“But what?”

Harry shrugged. “I reckon I should have tried to get you your job back at Zelda’s.”

You smiled, looking down at your hands. “It’s fine.”

“Really? ‘Cause…you can’t possibly be making the tips at the cafe.”

Biting your lip, you lifted your head. “Thanks for that, too, by the way.”

“What?”

“The extra tip yesterday.”

“Who said that was for you?” Harry teased with a smirk.

You couldn’t hide your chuckle.

“Listen…” he continued, placing his hand over his chest. “I feel bad. I was honest when I said that wasn’t me that night.”

You nodded, sliding your palms across your thighs. Were you sweating?

“You’re an artist,” you commented.

“I am.”

“I saw your website. You do beautiful work.”

“Thank you,” Harry grinned.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

Shaking his head again, Harry pulled his chair in front of you and sat down. Then leaning towards you, he seemed to study your face.

“I gave you plenty of reasons to jump to conclusions about me. Can we start over?”

“Start over? What do you mean?”

His dimples dipping in his cheeks, Harry held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Harry Styles.”

Mimicking his grin, you gently shook his hand. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m really excited to get to know you better.”

“Really?” you blushed.

“Yes. Do you work tomorrow?”

“I have a morning shift.”

“How about dinner?”

“No, I don’t work the dinner shift,” you shook your head.

Harry threw his head back laughing, startling you. His cackle rang through the office, vibrating every pulse in your body. What was happening? How did this guy suddenly have this effect on you?

“That’s not what I meant, love.”

“Oh,” you blushed again. Damn it.

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Oh.” Oh! “Um…you don’t work here tomorrow?”

“Nope. My night off.”

Though you tried your best to fight it, you couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your face. “Yeah. I guess I can do that.”

After settling the plans for the next evening, Harry walked you out to the front where Carlo sat patiently waiting.

“By the way,” said Harry. “What happened with your friend? The one who wanted the tattoo.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you hesitated. “She um…went somewhere else.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Don’t be so disappointed, Harry,” you chuckled. “You forgot one thing.”

“What’s that?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

“I haven’t gotten mine yet.”

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