#anything to keep from actually reading this month apparently! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

watchmegetobsessed · 5 months ago

Text

EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar.

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise.

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip.

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you.

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast.

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again.

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know.

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you.

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar.

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong.

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring.

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze.

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around.

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him.

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building.

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you.

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while.

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far?

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth.

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up.

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had.

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through.

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet?

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him.

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up.

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here.

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands.

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it.

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin.

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head.

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water.

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you.

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently.

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off.

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode.

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side.

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says.

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing.

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead.

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking.

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way.

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you.

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat.

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly.

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh.

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth.

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance.

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms.

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone.

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back.

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back.

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it.

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden.

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him.

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last.

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch.

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you.

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out.

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest.

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you.

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle.

“Thanks for�� everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike.

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago.

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night.

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside.

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since.

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes…

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with.

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self.

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side.

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest.

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look.

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it.

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you.

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table.

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen.

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is.

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie.

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them.

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note.

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye.

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath.

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike.

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense.

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move.

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment.

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him.

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze.

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level.

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore.

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly.

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in.

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence.

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more.

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything.

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly.

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets.

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road.

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it.

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver.

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss.

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body.

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club.

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you.

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up.

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater.

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress.

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle.

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips.

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now.

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence.

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense.

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you.

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head.

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again.

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already.

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base.

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you.

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed.

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes.

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours.

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed.

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest.

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly.

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss.

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well.

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic.

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him.

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says.

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination.

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

1K notes · View notes

allpiesforourown · 2 months ago

Text

OKAY SO I have way too many WIPs to write a role reversal fic and I meant to just yap about my au and ended up writing 2k words about it if you want to read it below...

oblivious shizun luo binghe / oblivious disciple shen yuan

First of all i've been reading a lot of role reversal fics lately but big shout out to ao3 user anqlbean for this fic because it really gave me "fuckboy shizun binghe, hiding that he's a demon lord" brain rot

Okay so anyway. In fair cang qiong sect where we lay our scene-

Luo Binghe is the Qing Jing peak lord. He’s also the heavenly emperor of the demon realm. No one knows both of his identities except for mobei jun and a handful of other people from his inner circle. It’s risky for a demon to hide as one of the cultivation world’s most prominent figures, but he likes having the best of both worlds!

Enter Shen Yuan: Shen Yuan's cultivation history is somewhat similar to Shen Jiu's in that he started cultivating late and joined Qing Jing well into his teens. He’s about 16 when he becomes Binghe’s student, but the thing is… Luo Binghe is kind of just the peak lord in name.

He spends his free time getting laid in the next town or going on an adventure with some hot demoness instead of giving classes. He’ll go on cultivation missions and take requests from villages and whatnot, but he doesn't bother teaching his disciples, just gives them a cultivation manual and tells them to figure it out. Half the time when students greet him on the peak he just nods because he doesnt even remember the disciple’s name. It’s fine though, once every few months he’ll take a break from all the one night stands and actually take a student along with him on a mission, just to keep the sect leader from complaining. “See, I teach my kids! Last month I took what’s-his-name on a night hunt!”

By the time Luo Binghe bothers to take Shen Yuan along for a mission, Shen Yuan is already 20 and has been on the peak for 4 years. Luo Binghe barely knows he exists, and he justs wants to collect this herb he was tasked with retrieving, send Shen Yuan back with it, and then get nasty with the woman back in the village who gave them directions to the cave that grows it.

Unfortunately for Binghe, the cave is also home to one of the few flowers that can affect a demon lord. Binghe can’t move as he falls to the ground and hears his student yell “Shizun!” and run over.

They can hear monsters nearby so Shen Yuan’s two options are to 1) heal his shizun by taking advantage of Binghe's body or 2) abandon him to die and leave by himself. Binghe has experienced both multiple times, and is ready for either one. He's not ready for Shen Yuan to choose a third option that no one has ever chosen before: heaving Luo Binghe onto his back, transferring him qi, and using every bit of strength to carry him to safety.

By the time they return to the cave’s entrance, Shen Yuan only has enough energy to use a talisman signalling the sect for help before they both pass out.

When Luo Binghe wakes up, the Qian Cao peak lord is asking him how he feels while his head disciple is yelling at a sheepish Shen Yuan for doing something reckless again! Apparently this is not the first time Shen Yuan has exhausted himself for the sake of another person.

Over the next few days, he can’t think of anything other than his student.

(Also, he secretly feels kind of… angry??? Was his body so unappealing to Shen Yuan that he'd rather half-die than dual cultivate with him?? He's not sure why he's so pissed off by the idea, it's not like he's ever wanted to dual cultivate with a man before, but still…)

Finally he decides he has every right to be curious about shen yuan, that’s his disciple! Unfortunately while Binghe was ignoring Shen Yuan's existence for the past few years, his disciple has managed to build up… a reputation at Cang Qiong.

Oh Shen Yuan selflessly saved Luo Binghe? Big deal, saving people is an average Tuesday for Shen Yuan, apparently! “He stopped my qi deviation” this, “he threw me out of a poisonous demon's way” that.

For the first time ever, Luo Binghe is not special. If anything, he has less pull with Shen Yuan than anyone else at Cang Qiong, because everyone else knows Shen Yuan better. Luo Binghe doesn’t know Shen Yuan’s birthday, but the rest of his students make sure to throw Shen Yuan a party every year to thank him for all his tutoring. Binghe is SO far behind, which is a feeling he hasn’t felt in YEARS.

About a month after the mission, he finally sees Shen Yuan sparring alone. Luo Binghe walks over, acting unbothered and nonchalant even though he's screaming internally. He greets his disciple and says, “This master has yet to properly thank Shen Yuan for his assistance at the cave… join me at the bamboo house tonight.”

Shen Yuan apologizes, says he has important plans but would love to join him another night, then spends the rest of the day off the peak with the An Ding head disciple.

Luo Binghe is flabbergasted. He's less important than an An Ding disciple???? Really??? Fucking An Ding?????

After that, Luo Binghe……. He isn’t stalking Shen Yuan, despite what Liu Mingyan (Xian Su peak lord) might say with excited eyes. He’s just keeping an eye on this interesting disciple he never knew he had! In secret.

He walks in on Qingge and Shen Yuan “sparring” and sees the exact moment Shen Yuan oversteps, loses his balance and goes tumbling on top of Liu Qingge. Binghe storms over, picks Shen Yuan up by the back of his robe like a cat, and physically separates the two of them. The two disciples gawk at how weird that was and he has no idea how to come up with an excuse for whatever the hell that just was.

Instead he asks what they’re doing.

Shen Yuan, being polite and answering the question: Liu-shidi and I are heading on a mission soon-

Luo Binghe: this master shall join you.

Shen Yuan: uh… it's a very simple request, two disciples are more than en-

Luo Binghe: this. Master. Shall. Join. You.

Liu Qingge: ???? What the hell is his problem

Shen Yuan: Okay… this disciple is grateful for shizun’s assistance…?

Their flight to the village is dead quiet.

The townspeople sigh theyre so glad they’re here, some demonic creature has been destroying their wildlife! This area makes most of their money with lumber exports, so if the creature continues to destroy their trees, it’ll result in huge losses.

When they find the demon, Shen Yuan starts yapping non stop. It’s like he’s suddenly transformed into a textbook, explaining that this little beaver-esque demon needs to chew up trees for its survival. Luo Binghe is bored out of his mind and pulls out his sword.

Shen Yuan gaps and picks up the small creature, holding it protectively against his chest. “This species isn’t even violent! We can’t kill it!”

Luo Binghe crosses his arms and says they have to complete this commission somehow. Shen Yuan argues they can simply relocate the demon somewhere else! Luo Binghe expects Liu Qingge to complain or brutishly try to kill it, but he shrugs and says he’ll follow Shen Yuan. Apparently this happens regularly…

By the time they rehome the creature somewhere it won’t be a bother, it’s too late to fly back to the sect.

The only close by inn apologizes and says they only have two rooms left, and each one is a single bed. They can have a mat sent up, but…

Binghe says he should room with Shen Yuan because they’re both from Qing Jing, and (he glares at Liu Qingge as he says this) Liu Qingge is an outsider. Liu Qingge narrows his eyes and says it would be inappropriate for a peak lord to share a room with a lowly disciple, so he should room with Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan cheerfully chimes in that he and Liu-shidi sleep together all the time! “Whenever shidi and I camp outdoors, he says he prefers sleeping on the ground. He’ll be happy to take the mat.”

Luo Binghe's smile becomes a little forced, but shen Yuan doesn't even notice the murderous intent rolling off his shizun, aimed at his friend from Bai Zhan.

In the end, Shen Yuan gets one room, and Liu Qingge gets the other. Luo Binghe insists his cultivation is high enough he doesn’t need to sleep, and had no intention to sleep tonight anyway.

This is a perfect time to go and find a brothel or a hookup. He realizes this is the longest he’s gone without sex in a long time, all because he’s been obsessed with Shen Yuan so much lately. But he’s got too much on his mind to do that tonight… He’s still thinking of the loving way Shen Yuan protected that small helpless demon, going as far as defying a peak lord for its sake.

Shen Yuan is… someone with shockingly good character. Despite being surrounded by cultivators, meeting people who are good is surprisingly rare. He doesn’t want his sweet disciple to have that lovely sense of justice stolen away from him by… gross perverts like Liu Qingge lusting after him!

(He’s not projecting!)

He’s already neglected Shen Yuan as a shizun for so many years. Now he has to step and make up for all that time! He’s decided what he has to do.

First thing in the morning, he knocks on Shen Yuan’s door. He hears a sweet ‘Come in!’ from inside and for some reason he feels… really nervous. Inside, Shen Yuan is sitting on his bed, brushing his hair, and he smiles when he looks up and sees Luo Binghe. “Good morning, shizun.”

Good morning??? How can he say something so casually, without a hint of shame, looking like that?? He’s wearing nothing but one layer that’s not even thick enough to hide his body! He can see Shen Yuan’s milky thighs and small chest!!!! What the fuck!?

(Is this how he walks around the shared dorms on Qing Jing? Do all the other disciples see the outline of his body through his thin layer every morning?? The longer he stares, the more he tells himself he’s making the right decision by doing this.)

He cuts right to the chase. “Once we return, Shen Yuan shall move his belongings into the bamboo house. This lord will teach him all there is to know about being Qing Jing’s head disciple.” He makes it clear that this is a statement, not a request – he’s not giving Shen Yuan a choice.

Shen Yuan gawks at him, and Luo Binghe says they’ll discuss things more in detail once they return to Qing Jing, but from this moment on, he represents himself as Luo Binghe’s head disciple. It takes Shen Yuan a few minutes to really comprehend what’s going on, but eventually he bows in thanks and throws on another, thicker layer. Shen Yuan moves for the door and says, “I better tell Liu-shidi-”

Luo Binghe’s hand moves before he can stop himself, and they’re both surprised by the deathly tight grip he has on Shen Yuan’s wrist.

Luo Binghe clears his throat and lets go. “You should let him be. Sometimes if you spend too much time with a person, it can become off-putting.” There, surely that will keep Shen Yuan away from that brute, right?

Shen Yuan says, “Ohhh,” and then smiles. “Don't worry shizun,” he says gently, “This disciple understands what you're saying. Once I move into the bamboo house, I'll make sure to give shizun his space.”

Then Shen Yuan walks away and closes the door behind him. Luo Binghe can hear Shen Yuan telling Liu Qingge the good news, “I don’t know if shizun is joking or not, but wouldn’t it be nice for us to do our head disciple work together?”

Luo Binghe realizes that Shen Yuan is going to RUIN him, and he’ll do it without even realizing.

#role reversal au #svsss #shen yuan #luo binghe #bingqiu #liu qingge #allpiesforourown #gonna tag it binggeyuan too bc binghe is a fuckboy until he gets domesticated by sy #binggeyuan #luo bingge

630 notes · View notes

ellecdc · 9 months ago

Note

Love, i hope youre staying hydrated 🩵

A poly!wolfstar idea that lives rent free is that Rem, for lack of a better word, hoards Siri and Reader as it gets closer to the fullmoon/ a specific type of moon. Like a dragon. Hes so openly, aggressively affectionate too and is much more likely to mamhandle them

thank you all for constantly reminding me to drink more water - you're my heroes.

poly!WolfStar x fem!reader

CW: territorial boyfriend, slight jealousy, dom/sub dynamics if you squint but SFW

You weren’t hiding. Not really...

But you were also sort of kind of definitely hiding.

You loved your boyfriends, both of them, so damn much. And for the majority of the month, it was Sirius driving the two of you up the wall (affectionately). But as the night of the full moon dragged closer and closer, you and Sirius could hardly move without Remus’ sights set on you.

Most of the time, you and Sirius handled Moony’s obsession quite well in your humble opinion; you usually relished in his neediness and all the affection he showered on you.

But exam season was around the corner, and you were currently hanging on by a thread.

Anything and everything that could have gone wrong today did; you got a run in your sheer tights at breakfast, you only received an acceptable on your most recent essay for Charms, you dropped your potion during class which spilt on your shoes, and you forgot your textbook for Transfiguration which earned you house points and detention.

So, you loved Remus – truly, you would die for him – but you needed to get this redraft of your essay for Potions finished (using the corrections you received on your dreadful Charms essay) and you could not deal with Sirius’ non-stop flirting and joking which you knew you’d have to deal with if you let Remus drag you up to his dorm room as he wont to do.

So, you were hiding.

Definitely hiding.

In the furthest corner in the library that you could manage which was probably not the best hiding place from the studious, book-loving lycanthrope – but you were too desperate to be making effective plans right now.

You probably should have tried a little harder.

“There you are.” Remus’ lilting voice floated to you in your little corner of solitude.

“Hey, Moons.” You called quietly as he approached you and placed a searing kiss to your lips, his hand at the nape of your neck keeping your head in place for him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were avoiding me.” He whispered against your lips with a smirk.

Your face flooded with heat at the prospect of being caught, but Remus just chuckled and pressed another kiss to your lips before he pulled back and took a seat beside you.

“Where’s Sirius?” You asked.

Remus looked at you from the corner of his eye as he pulled out a book from his bag. “Practice, why?”

You felt your shoulders drop in relief at the idea that you may actually be able to finish this essay before Sirius came to (lovingly) distract you.

Remus hummed at you as a grin grew across his face. “Ah, perhaps it’s not necessarily me you’re avoiding?”

Your face heated again at the mortifying ordeal of being known.

“I love him, I love you, I love you both, but I-”

“Hey,” Remus interrupted what was quickly becoming an increasingly panicked tangent as he slid his hand into yours. “It’s okay dovey, you do what you need to do. I’ll try to control myself and keep Sirius busy, okay?”

And Remus kept his word...mostly.

He had his hand on you at all times: it started with your hand in his before you needed to pull it away to flip through your parchment, which became a solid grip on your thigh as he continued reading before that hand began to migrate further up your thigh and tease around the bottom of your skirt to which you whined “Moony” at and pushed his hand away.

It was when Remus - apparently provoked by some younger Hufflepuff allegedly “making googly eyes at you” from across the aisle - hauled you into his lap and began nipping at your neck that you decided you had gotten all the revising you were going to get done today, done.

“Hungry, dove?” He asked into your neck.

You wanted to roll your eyes, but the way his hands wrapped around your middle to envelop you in a sweet hug as he murmured into the crook of your neck made you melt a little.

“Yeah.”

You could feel him smile against your skin and press one more kiss to it before he was helping you off of his lap and packing your things up. “Let’s go to dinner then.”

Remus held your hand and carried your bag all the way to the Great Hall before all but seating you himself and pressing himself up against your side on the bench of the Gryffindor table.

Lily smirked at you from her place before ensuring no one around could hear her.

“If I hadn’t known it was Remus’ time of the month already, this would have solidified it for me.” She said with a salacious wink.

You tried to glare at her, but Remus took that moment to shove his face back into the crook of your neck causing you to flush and duck your head shyly.

You heard boisterous laughing at the entrance to the Great Hall as the Gryffindor quidditch team made their way in from their practice.

You smirked at the sight, specifically Sirius, who had obviously showered - his hair was still damp, and his cheeks were still flushed a pretty pink from the adrenaline of his flight.

A gruff moan from your boyfriend seated beside you alerted you to his shared appreciation of the scenery.

However, Sirius flashed the two of you a smirk and a wink before following McKinnon over to the Ravenclaw table where Dorcas was sitting with Pandora.

Remus tensed slightly but settled for pulling your closer into his side.

It didn’t last long, however, when a particular bark of laughter garnered yours and Remus’ attention only to find Sirius talking to a Ravenclaw girl everyone knew had a raging crush on him.

Now, it’s important to note that Sirius was not deceitful nor disloyal to you and Remus, but he was mischievous and... bratty... sometimes.

Usually, you and Remus would scoff and laugh, and he’d tell you he would deal with this later causing Sirius to pout and whine, begging for attention – but today Remus immediately rose from his seat and grabbed both of your book bags, calling over a hasty “let’s go dove” as he stalked over to the Ravenclaw table to throw your shared boyfriend over his shoulder and stalk up to Gryffindor tower.

You knew Sirius was going to pay for it tonight.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #poly!wolfstar #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x you #ellecdc fics

1K notes · View notes

ohimsummer · 10 months ago

Text

LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET ft. SUGURU GETO

�� minors dni, light angst?, suguru x fem! reader, penetrative sex, mention of gojo x reader (one kiss), slight dumbification, nipple play, biting/hickeys, making out, lovesick! suguru, what could’ve been a creampie, pussy taps, dry humping, reader gets a little flustered (duh it’s suguru), pussy whipped suguru ?, a little proofread

wc 3.3k

Gojo had a lot of bad habits. Eating an over abundance of sweets, not taking things seriously, hiding his feelings, along with procrastinating and, more importantly, avoiding things he shouldn’t.

“Since when were you such a coward?,” Shoko asks and elbows him in the ribs.

He faces away, a lip jutted out as he mumbles a response. “‘M not a coward, I just don’t like her in that way.”

Suguru stands nearby, lighting a cigarette as he eavesdrops on the conversation. The lighter falls deep into his pocket, while he’s wondering how he could have such an absolute idiot as his best friend. People who don’t like someone else ‘in that way’ don’t get butterflies when they kiss that person, but he digresses. If Gojo wants to let you go and keep denying his own feelings, so be it. Suguru will gladly swoop you up and make you his own. Ever since that kiss you and Satoru had shared, one the former was adamant meant nothing because he definitely wasn’t in love with you, the two of you had been avoiding each other for a few weeks now. Well, Gojo was avoiding you. Geto discovered through Shoko that you just didn’t want to force him into anything, putting Gojo’s feelings above your own and essentially condoning his childish actions—and that you were struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’d wasted your first real kiss on someone who apparently thought you meant nothing special.

A week after the incident, Geto was over at your place again, as he often was since you two did hang out a lot. Shoulders drooped, the usual playfulness in your voice is gone, he never gets a good look at your face and that’s on purpose. At that point, it was too hard to conceal your emotions about the whole thing—Geto can read you like an open book, and the conversation wouldn’t be worth the heartache. You’re nothing like yourself. If he’s being honest, Suguru’s annoyed and a little bit jealous that you’re this way over his friend. He could treat you so much better. He’s not the type that needs to be pushed so hard just to admit his feelings; the type to just up and pretend his friend of almost a decade doesn’t exist anymore over one kiss.

It’s not like Geto was being unfair here. He’d been eyeing you for years already, anyway, stuck watching you pine after—and now, lose sleep over—his snowy-haired best friend. Almost two months had passed, and this was the final straw to push Geto over the edge. If the strongest sorcerer in the world was going to waste both his own and your time, then Geto would move things along himself.

“Glad your mission went well.,” Suguru says as you usher him into your spacious apartment, coming to check on you after an especially grueling curse you’d been assigned to kill.

“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.,” you laugh. Your hand waves through the air as if swatting away a fly. “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

He’s used to this, your bravado after every mission, regardless of how dangerous it actually was. Something to lighten the mood after just putting your life on the line. You’re similar to Gojo in that aspect, only the tiredness behind your words and expression is far more evident, but you power through regardless. Calm and collected as ever, pouring yourself a glass of milk and gesturing a chilled water bottle at your guest in offering. Geto rests on the couch with an arm slung over the back as he watches you toss the half-empty jug within the fridge, before prancing over to him with a playful grin.

“Milk?” An airy chuckle puffs from his lips.

Your eyes narrow as you toss the bottle into his lap, your own glass hesitating before your mouth. “Listen, I had a craving while I was out, and it’s going to help my bones grow. I have to catch up to you and Gojo somehow.”

Your silly comment elicits a tugging at Suguru’s lips, ignoring again how you’ve started using his friend’s last name. There’s a flicker of discomfort that crosses your features at the thought of Gojo—he’s noticed your sudden unease at the mention of the sorcerer—before you’re chugging the milk in swift gulps. Geto sees the tension, traces of it at least, leave you through the relaxation of your shoulders.

“So,” you lower the glass just a little, tongue swiping the milk mustache below your nose. “Wanna watch a movie? You don’t have a mission tomorrow, right?”

A shake of his head. “Nope. I’m all yours for the night.” His cheeky words brings a warmth to your face.

Geto lets you pick the movie, giving in to you like he usually does, and accepts the invitation to sprawl out on your bed upstairs. It’s more spacious than the couch, and also adorned with various plushies to protect you both from the frights of the dreadful movie about to play. It’s a typical psychological horror—filled with cheap jumpscares and agonizing suspense in the form of characters lingering through the shadows. He’s never seen this film before, so Geto should be paying attention because he knows you like to discuss after, but he just can’t. Not with both your sides pressed together and the heat of your body radiating onto him, or when your head lolls against his shoulder, face half-hidden behind the fuzzy dog plush in your arms.

It’s sweet, the way you jolt when a character springs from behind a corner, squealing in fright, lowering just a little further behind the stuffed animal. His heart races a little faster when you cower against him, eyes soften a little more at your goofy comments about the idiotic choices of the cast members. You, laughing at your own words, which makes him laugh in turn, and Suguru feels like he’s just falling more in love with you and your being.

Another hair-raising scene occurs, and Geto slinks a comforting arm around your shoulder, face growing warm when you shuffle to sink further into him. From the corner of his eye, he can see the fear written on your face. It’s amusing and just endearing really, how you’re seemingly more frightened by the fake movie monster than an actual cursed spirit. His hand snakes over your face to cover your eyes, fingers spread so you may peek through, and Geto chuckles when you scrunch your nose up at him.

“Are you trying to say I look scared–!”, The accusation barely leaving your mouth before a loud gasp erupts from your throat, the source of your shock being the sudden loud noise of a bookshelf falling in the movie. Alas, your boldness is thwarted by another cheap scare.

“Ah, silly me. Of course not.” Geto’s voice is mocking as he brushes hair from your face. “So fearless, I can tell.”

“Shut up, that doesn’t count, you distracted me.”

He laughs again. “Oh, so you’re gonna pin that reaction on me?”

You mumble into the stuffed dog something unintelligible, face half concealed against Geto’s chest. His hand falls to rest on your shoulder, drawing circles and then hearts into the warm skin of your body. You squeeze an arm behind yourself to wrap around him, giggling when he turns to glance at your smaller hand on his other side.

“So you won’t be scared the rest of the movie.,” you tease with a toothy grin.

“Me?” He thinks you’re ridiculous in the cutest way. “I haven’t jumped once.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re lucky I was too busy watching the movie to notice you shivering over there.” The faint smell of his cologne is intoxicating from this distance. “Your heart’s probably pounding right now.”

It is, Geto thinks, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Less of the movie, and more of your pretty face inches from his. The film continues playing on your laptop, a scene shot at night and through the dark screen, Geto admires you in the reflection. Those wide, doe-eyes seemingly hyper-focused on what’s in front of you, darting to take in everything on display—maybe you’d find an Easter egg in this shot, some reference to another movie, perhaps? Your breathing hitches when a sound makes the main character twist to look behind them, and Geto finds himself hugging you just a little bit tighter.

“I’m fine, y’know.” You huff the sentence out at him, catching his curious gaze through the dark reflection of your laptop. “Why are staring at me like that?”

Your head raises, turning to confront him. Amongst the love in Suguru’s eyes, you see hints of fondness, soft and subtle as he studies you. And behind that, something else that’s not so innocent. It all intrigues you.

“Got something on your mind, Suguru?”

This was supposed to be happening with Gojo. Or you’d originally hoped it would, anyway.

The movie was long forgotten, laptop dark as the credits had ended a while ago. The device teetered along the edge of your bed before falling, luckily cushioned by the discarded yellow puppy plush that’d met the floor through Geto’s foot.

Your moans bounce around the room, occasionally colliding with his grunts of satisfaction as Suguru’s tongue danced around in your mouth, him nibbling on your bottom lip as a hand crept up your shirt. Shaky legs squeeze around his waist, parted by Geto’s knee, and you grind against the flex of his thigh to relieve the building ache in your core.

There’s the soft smack of parting lips whenever Suguru breaks away, eager to shower kisses along your exposed neck, littered with the dark marks of his possession—then he returns for the taste of strawberry on your lips again. There it is again, this endearing sweetness about you, it’s engraved into your very being: your laugh, your smile, your silly jokes, the flavor of your kiss. A needy grip, wandering hands that don’t know their destination, rubbing over Suguru’s shoulders, his back, gripping his nape and threading amongst dark strands of long hair. In the back of his mind, he can’t help wonder if Gojo had an experience such as this and, if so, how he could ever risk never being able to go through it again?

It only takes one hand to unclasp your bra with expert fingers. The undergarment is inched away to expose your breasts, and soon, your shirt with it to leave your top half unveiled for Suguru’s longing gaze.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…,” he mutters to himself, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. Satoru’s such an idiot, he thinks, missing out on this, on you.

Your hot pants graze his skin; fuzzy, indecisive eyes flicker between Geto’s flushed face and the prominent tent in his sweats, where it just brushes your panties and sends a flood of wetness between your thighs. Trembling hands finally find purchase on his shoulder and behind his neck, where you pull him towards your body, arched to raise your tits and the gesture sends an intense throbbing straight to Suguru’s dick. Offering yourself to him like that, wordlessly begging for his mouth to indulge in you—he’s wrapped so right around your finger, just a lovesick fool for you.

A sharp gasp slips out—Geto’s mouth meets one of your stiffened nipples, rolling it on his tongue before tugging it between his teeth. ‘Ah! Suguru!’ you mewl his name with your head sinking into plush pillows, and he gropes your other lonely breast with a large hand, thumbing the hard bud and pinching it between his fingers.

It’s easy to match the greedy rhythm of his hips, and you uplift your own to meet the grinding of his erection against your heated pussy. A loving kiss pressed to your chest, over the swell of your tits, a bite or two in between while he worships your body. “M—!” Geto cuts you off with a harsh suck of your nipple, prompting a desperate whine from your throat. “O-oh, god—! Fuck, Suguru, k-keep going!”

He pauses the feverish assault on your chest, licking a stripe up the center of your throat, and muttering sweet nothings over your glistening skin before continuing ministrations on the pebbled buds. Your legs hug tight around Geto’s hips, pulling him ever closer until the stiffness in his pants massages your clit through sopping wet panties. Drool soaks your chest, messy and riddled with a new array of bite marks and blemishes. Evidence of Suguru’s obsession, and a clear claim over you because you’re all his now.

“Suguruu…”, you jut out a lip when dark eyes move in your direction, tongue hesitating on your nipple. “Hurry, pleasee?” You whine and flutter long lashes, purposefully grinding against his length again in a needy plea.

He gives one last suck on the erect nub, causing your mouth to fall open with a small moan, and Geto balances himself on an elbow next to your head, easing fingers beneath the waistline of your panties. Snorting, his eyes trail over your heaving form, watching your own fingers tug at the hem of his pants.

“My darling’s so eager, isn’t she?” It’s a soft taunt that fills your ears, makes you conscious of the blazing heat in your veins that sets fire to your skin. “Can’t be that desperate for me, can you? Want me in this pussy that bad?”

Your clit throbs in response, and you keep fingers tucked into Suguru’s sweats, pulling them down for a glimpse at the dark hairs of his happy trail, before growing a little more embarrassed and hiding it away again. He chuckles at your shy behavior.

“Shut up.,” you search the room, pouting, for something else to look at. “You can’t get me like this and then be so mean.”

He lowers himself towards you. “Like what?” A little closer, now locks of his hair brush your face. “Getting this pussy all sloppy and wet for me? Begging to have my cum stuffed in her?”

Eyes widening, you break his gaze, cramming your lids shut as your face twists with a look of bashfulness. “God, Suguru, you are sooo–!” Hot? Dirty? Perverted? “Embarrassing!,” you finally groan in frustration.

Suguru sits up to stare down at the soaked wet patch staining your panties. ‘I’ll tell you what’s embarassing…’ and you give a playful glare at his comment. He chuckles, and adjusts both your legs to rest on his left side before fingers hook beneath the fabric, pulling it off in one swift motion. The slickness of your pussy is a sight to behold, mouth-watering. Juices cascade down your thighs, drenches his protruding digits as he slides them up and down your fluttering hole that threatens to suck him in and never let go.

“ ‘S not my fault, she just knows what she likes.” Geto marvels at how easily his thick finger sinks in, cock twitching at your lengthy whine. “And I think right now she’d like me to break her in.”

He’s so insufferable. “Suguru–“

“God, I’m gonna make this pussy mine, just wait.,” he sighs. The squeeze of your walls at his promise is mesmerizing—your words can’t fly high enough to reach him in the clouds. “Til you can’t remember anything but the shape of my dick, gonna breed this tight fucking hole–“

“I think actions speak louder than words, Suguru.”

Your little taunt pulls Geto out of his daydreams. “Oh, you’re going to be much louder than my actions, darling.”

It’s like sand on your tongue the way your mouth goes dry, him grinning at your flustered expression as he frees his cock from it’s prison. Precum drools from the tip, leaking down his length to leave a stain on his dark sweats. Your tongue darts over your lips, craving just a taste, a desire to encompass his bobbing length in the safe warmth of your mouth.

He glides it over your spasming pussy, making a mess as precum and slick smears everywhere. Amusement dances in Geto’s eyes when he slaps the tip a few times against your clit, sending a jolt through you and bringing a cry from within your throat. He does it again, circles your clit with his tip until your hips are gyrating to match his movements and tears prick the corners of your eyes. ‘Suguru…’ falls off your lips once more in a pathetic plea, and Geto can’t wait any longer when you blink so innocently at him, sigh so prettily at his teasing motions.

It burns a little, the stretch of his fat tip making its way inside. But Geto is slow and patient—he notes any sign of discomfort as he awaits your go ahead, as torturous as it is, especially when the deepest parts of your pussy are calling for him. Your gooey walls are snug around his length, holding him so tight and inviting him inside as inches sink deeper into your fluttering heat—it’s maddening. As Geto finally bottoms out, he cages you between his arms, face flushed pink and framed by long, jet-black waves of hair. So pretty. And his pleasured smile wavers for just a second. You’re so fucked out already that you don’t even know you just mumbled that out loud. Looks like you’re both a pair of lovesick fools.

“F–fuck me, please.,” you whimper. He won’t make you ask twice. Lazy yet deliberate, the drag of Suguru’s cock has your head reeling, especially when he keeps brushing that spot inside you, sending floods of euphoria throughout your body.

Your arms move to wrap around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “S-so full, Suguru, it f–eels, feels s’ fucking good, don’t stop.” And he replies with a low grunt, ‘shit, I won’t, could never’ as his pace quickens. Tears cast a blurry haze over your vision, sounds of skin against skin picking up in your ears, along with desperate, broken moans from either of you. The sharpness of your nails leave a collection of scratches along Suguru’s back, and the slight pain of it all only fuels the plunge of his dick, making itself at home within the gumminess of your walls. He uses a hand to shift your pelvis, moving himself for a deeper angle and fucking hard into your sweet spot. ‘Oh, fuck, fuck!’ You cry into Geto’s ear, tugging his hair and grasping at him to fit against you. ‘S-Suguru..! Right there–!’, finished off with a loud cry. Your orgasm is right around the corner, a blazing pool of desire overflowing in the pit of your stomach.

“C–um..!” You’re starting to babble, mindless and stupid. “Inside, inside, Suguru!”

And he wants to, trust, but it wouldn’t exactly be responsible without a condom on or knowing whether or not you’re on the pill. Maybe if he was a little less caring—or not tucked away in the crevice of your neck to hide from the hypnotizing power of your eyes—he’d make good on his promise and fill your pussy up until you couldn’t take it anymore. It’s so tempting, the heavy urge to mark your insides with his seed, til they were coated in white, but he just can’t be sure. So while you’re shivering and crying, high off your own orgasm, Suguru uses his last remnants of sensibility. He pulls out, low, raspy grunts and a hiss leaving him at the sight of his cum painting your thighs, spurting onto your swollen clit and leaking down to your quivering hole.

He collapses next to you, chests both heaving and an arm moves to wrap around your waist. Your teary eyes glaze over Geto in his divine glory, too dazed to see him doing the same to you.

“What’s with that face?,” he pants a short chuckle at the pout of your lips.

You turn further onto your side, pressing your bare bodies together and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other rubbing through his hair. “Told you to cum inside me, you wasted it everywhere.”

Suguru scoffs, playful. “Couldn’t risk it, sweetheart, I’d be hooked after one go.”

A shiver runs down his spine as you brush a thumb over his nape. “Oh, is that so bad? Thought you were gonna stuff me, Sugu, you don’t wanna breed this little hole and fill me up?”

“…Keep talking like that and I might.”

tagz: @anthoosies @mysugu

#suguru geto x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader smut #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #suguru geto x you

2K notes · View notes

h0neylevi · 3 months ago

Text

Levi Month - Day 21 (Post-War: Children)

cw: canonverse/post-war, written with fem!reader in mind, suggestive sexual content, established relationship, mostly domestic fluff

word count: 857

“I found condoms in Falco’s room today.”

You peek over the top of your book to find Levi frowning in the bathroom doorway.

He had quietly retreated into the room several minutes ago for his usual nighttime routine, leaving you with the job of locking up and shutting off the lights. If relinquishing that task hadn’t been enough to clue you in that something was wrong, the familiar little scrunch of concern that is now etched between his eyebrows says everything. He’s worried.

Despite his obvious displeasure, the revelation still makes you smile. It isn’t the news necessarily–that isn’t as shocking to you as it apparently is to Levi. You’ve witnessed enough by accident of Gabi and Falco hurriedly pulling away from one another in the empty kitchen to know that something was going on.

But the second bedroom–first door on the left down the hall–is actually a guest bedroom. In the years since you and Levi have relocated and the restoration project began, a number of people have used it–Connie, Jean, Onyankopon, even you–but it seems that Levi has subconsciously deemed it Falco’s. It’s so like him to reveal his feelings in such an unintentional way. It’s cute.

You decide to tuck away that knowledge instead of antagonizing him for once and shrug.

“At least they’re being responsible,” you reply and return to your book.

Quietly, Levi crosses the room, a look of dissatisfaction still polluting his expression as he sinks onto his side of the bed.

“You’re not worried about it?” he asks.

You turn, meeting his concerned gaze with a sardonic tilt of your head. “Tell me you weren’t thinking about sex at his age.”

His lips purse slightly, and you know you’ve made your point when the tips of his ears begin to turn a faint shade of pink. “I wasn’t acting on it,” he says as if that makes any real difference.

You laugh. “Well, I think that was more because of your circumstances than anything else.”

He doesn’t say anything to refute what you say. Instead, Levi settles into his side of the bed, propped upright on the pillows next to you. With a slow sigh, his hand finds your thigh much like it does almost every night. It’s an idle touch, one that you’re not even sure he realizes he does anymore, but it still causes you to scoot closer, seeking out his warmth.

“That doesn’t mean they should be having sex. They’re kids,” he continues, seemingly still preoccupied with the topic. “Maybe we should talk to them.”

“Gabi and Falco are almost eighteen, Levi,” you point out, not looking up from your page. “I’m sure their parents have already had that kind of talk with them. Pretty soon they’ll have little ones of their own running around. And that’s what we fought for anyway, right? For people to live and fall in love. Have families, grow old.”

He doesn’t reply.

For a few minutes, you sit like this, absorbed in your book. Coaxed into comfort by the slow caress of Levi’s thumb on your skin. Some nights, Levi will read over your shoulder, and you think that’s what he’s doing again tonight, until–

“Have you ever thought about it?”

You don’t look up when you ask, “About what?”

“Having kids.”

Your eyes stutter on the page before freezing entirely. Any attempt to recall anything you just read is impossible, so you carefully bookmark your place at the end of the chapter and set the book aside.

Levi is already watching you when you turn, the expression in his one good eye now open and passive.

“I have,” you tell him slowly. “But never seriously. Never thought I’d get the chance to.”

He nods to assert he knows what you mean. It’s difficult to dream for a future when each day feels like it may be your last. It’s a feeling you’re both well accustomed to.

He keeps his gaze fixed and even in a way that makes your heart flutter. “And now?” he asks.

You swallow.

An implication sits in the air that you’re sure is intentional. You’ve been by Levi’s side as a comrade for almost a decade but as his partner for only a fraction of that time, only revealing your feelings a few months after the battle at Fort Salta. Thankfully, he had reciprocated.

And now, he’s asking if you want children with him.

Scenarios immediately flash through your mind. Ones of Levi holding a little boy with his eyes and your nose. Others of a little girl with both of her parents wrapped around her finger.

It conjures an indescribable feeling, but if you had to choose, you think joy might be the closest thing to it.

“I’d like that,” you finally say, eyes focusing on him once more. “But we’re not exactly young anymore. We’d have to start trying soon.”

There’s a small twitch of his mouth upwards–the tiniest of movements that you’ve come to recognize as the precursor to mischief. So when he reaches to pull you in for a kiss, you’re not surprised when he says, “We can start trying right now.”

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levimonth24

764 notes · View notes

xeeljii · 3 months ago

Text

SHE'S MY COLLAR

I clear my system, I don't need no other This is my persona, secret lover, she’s my collar

WARNING! Explicit RPF!

EDIT! Prequel available, you can read that first if you want.

Summary: You don’t want a relationship and he does, he should know better to keep falling in your trap but the feel of your soft legs wrapping around his hips is too tempting to quit so like a fool he keeps coming back to you.

Word count: 5.4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, friends with benefits, mentions of past sex, mutual pining, set in Berlin but reader is not specified to be German or anything, no specific body descriptions.

You had met Joost some months ago, before the incident and before he blew up too. There was an instant connection. Not just psychical but he was easy to talk to, so funny and kind, really unlike anyone you had ever met. He was incredibly charismatic and the people around him seemed to adore him, you honestly had a crush as soon as you started talking but you had an amazing poker face too so you did well to hide it. The night you first had run into each other you were at a private event at some club in Berlin that a well connected friend had invited you to. He caught your eye and apparently so did you. The rest of the night was a whirlwind, you drank heavily, danced wildly and laughed together until your jaw started hurting, all to end up back at the place where he was staying.

You hadn’t even slept together that first time, well you had in the sense that he had let you sleep on his bed, wearing his clothes. However, in the morning when you woke up he had fucked you within an inch of your life, still heavy with sleep but so deliciously slow savoring every thrust. He was a generous lover, always preoccupied with your pleasure first and he was a fast learner, sweet and eager to please. You liked fixating on the many beauty marks and tattoos that littered his body, enjoyed sharing a shower together and falling asleep on the couch after a make out session. It was never awkward, it just felt so good from the get go. The lines were not entirely clear, you would have casual sex together but also go out for lunch, and hang out like normal friends. You had bought him his own toothbrush for your place at some point, he didn’t say anything as not to fluster you but he appreciated it. He didn’t leave right after he finished, always made sure you came first too, he liked cuddling and he would help you clean up softly between your legs when your limbs were still too heavy for a bath. He was usually in town only for a day or the weekend at most but he made an effort to see you every time. He would bring food to have dinner before trying to get you in bed, he also brought you other trinkets form his travels and always texted and called you when he was away so you wouldn’t forget him in the meantime, as if that was even possible. It was nice but it made your heart hurt a bit, scared and expectant for when the fantasy would stop and your idilic “friendship” would end.

You felt a little out of place in his life, he would always invite you to his shows and there you would see how you were not the only one enamored by him. It was fine really, you weren’t together, there was no expectations and furthermore you had no right to even feel jealous when it was you who coyly stopped his advances every time he tried moving the goalpost from casual to serious. He couldn’t complain, he felt so at ease when he was with you, you were smart, funny and beautiful, he really felt you came straight out of one of his dreams. But you seemed so far away at the same time, perhaps exactly like an illusion you wouldn’t let him get any closer. He knew you had a life of your own, friends and a job you loved but he also wished you would actually take him up on the multiple offers to fly you out with him, yet you never did. Through the months you had known each other he had found himself in your bed countless times, he liked it more than taking you back to whatever place he was staying at. It felt like home in a way that made him greedy. Your place was nice and tidy, a little on the old side but it just made it more charming in his eyes. He wanted to bring you back to his home, to show you around the places he liked and where he grew up, to have you on his bed waking up every morning, yet for whatever reason you wouldn’t let him. Still, like an idiot knowing he was playing for the losing team he kept coming back to you every time.

One of the many nights you had gone out drinking together you ended up, as usual, getting separated from the group and wandering the streets alone, just the two of you, hand in hand. There was never an uncomfortable silence with you, his thumbs traced shapes on the side of your hand while you pulled him seemingly aimlessly under the street lamps. “Look!” You said happily pulling at his hand to follow, there was what seemed like a little run down playground and some old looking photo booths, you pulled him inside one. You both squeezed into the small bench, you were almost sitting on his lap. “You have to put the bill here” You pointed at a metallic slip. “I don’t have cash on me” He replied. “Oh! you owe me big time then” You said smiling poking out your tongue at him, you pulled some bills from your pockets and the machine started making strange noises before a bright light blinded both of you. You immediately erupted into shared laughter “Okay, quick pose!” The machine kept snatching pictures one after the other and you kept feeding it money amused. At some point he became too distracted by the faces you were making and didn’t even bother looking towards the camera, he thinks that is probably when he truly fell for you. You had noticed his stare and looked down at him. “You are wasting my photo money if you don’t pose!” You whined, he couldn’t bring himself to speak a single syllable, he just pulled you further into his lap and kissed you deeply. It felt like the world had started and stopped right there inside that photo booth. After an eternity in your lips he softly spoke up again.

“Can I walk you home?” He said a breath away from your lips.

You nodded, face red and pupils dilated “Yeah” Your voice was so pretty when you were breathless, he couldn’t wait to have you moaning under him or over him, however you wanted, he was just a fool at your mercy.

Before you left he had picked up the photos you almost forgot and shoved them in his back pocket, back home in the Netherlands he had carefully placed them on the drawer of his nightstand and kept coming back to them on days when he was feeling particularly homesick for your arms.

Now he was in Berlin again, for a show, you knew because he had texted you days before asking you to come. You had told him you couldn’t, that there was some important work meeting you had to prepare for. Truth was, it wasn’t that important, but you were trying to put some distance between the two of you. Every time you had sex it became more tender more gentle, addicting in a way you knew you couldn’t allow yourself, it felt like making love. You felt bad about not getting to see him, guilty about the disappointed little face he made in a selfie he sent you as a reply, but you felt it was for the better. Like this, soon he would get tired and move on so he could become a fun memory that hopefully wouldn’t hurt you too much when you thought about him years down the line.

But you weigh heavy on his mind and on his heart and when the show is over and the alcohol is all gone he feels an impulse that gets him to his feet. He wants to see you. He knows you are busy but also distantly feels like you are avoiding him, like you caught on the fact that he is falling, or more like already fell, for you. But so what if he likes you? What if he is in love for real? What you don’t know cant hurt you and if he gets hurt in the process then that is fine, it doesn’t bother him, maybe only bothers a little bit. He knows the way to your apartment by heart, could probably get there blindfolded, has been there so many times he feels it is a second home, wants it to be a second home. He is drunk and deeply melancholic, he is feeling down on his luck but maybe a beautiful woman can save him, but only if it is you. The venue he is at is luckily close enough to your pace, he makes his way on foot, somewhere along the night it had started raining, fitting for his mood. He is only wearing a light hoodie, that quickly gets soaked, he honestly can’t even feel cold he is just moving on instinct trying to reach you. Soon enough he gets to the entrance of your building and pulls his phone out, texts you before his brain can stop him.

You are rolling around in bed not able to fall asleep at all, not worried about the stupid meeting but knowing that Joost is in town and your idiot past self denied him makes you feel terrible. You should just enjoy the moment as much you can, take everything he is willing to give you and when you get thrown away there will be more fun memories. You don’t really know why you are tying to be the responsible one in this situation, you should just bet everything on your losing horse and let future you worry about how to deal with the unpleasant consequences. Right as you unsuccessfully try to close your eyes again and let the soft rain outside lull you to sleep, you hear the little ping of your phone on the nightstand. You already know who it is without having to check in the way your stomach does a summersault. But still, you pick up the phone and read “I’m outside, can I come in?”. Idiot, it is raining, he probably doesn’t even have an umbrella. You have to let him in or he will catch a cold, it is a kindness really, you have no hidden motives, you are just being nice, your hands are tied. You try to convince yourself as you immediately stand from the bed and walk quickly towards the door.

You ring him in and wait right by the door with your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. He all but races pathetically upstairs, two steps at the time, like he can’t be fast enough to reach you. You wait on held breath and you hear his heavy footsteps right outside but wait until he knocks, then you make a show of waiting a few seconds, pretending like you are just getting up and open the door slowly rubbing your eyes as if you had really been asleep. You move aside to make way for him.

“Come in” you mumble after a small yawn leaves your mouth, he walks in and takes his shoes off, then you notice that he is dripping wet. “Joost did you walk here?” You drop the sleepy act immediately.

“It wasn’t that far” he mumbles looking away, there is a small blush blooming on the high of his cheeks.

You stand in front of him taking his hoodie off “Go get in the shower, you are gonna catch a cold”.

He does as he is told there is a strange cozy feeling in this interaction that goes straight to his heart.

In the shower he keeps trying to come up with what to say to convince you to date him seriously. For a songwriter he feels he is not very good at this words things right now or maybe he is too drunk or maybe he cares too much about what you will think of him. He gets under the warm water, reaches for your soap, not the expensive one because you will get mad that he used it, but the one you use for everyday, his favorite one. He likes this, smelling like you, it makes him feel like he is a little bit a part of you, makes him wish you would become a little bit a part of him too. After a few minutes you open the door of the bathroom to drop a warm towel for him and take his clothes to dry. You say nothing, it feels too domestic, like it is a built up habit the two of you have. He wants to keep you all to himself. He never asks if you are seeing someone else and you do the same, it is common curtesy but he feels the question itching at the back of his throat every time he sees you start dressing right after you are done. He could take care of you, he makes good money, make it so you could be at every one of his shows. The rational part of his brain thinks he is being cruel. You love your job and your career, it would be like keeping a bird on a cage he can’t bear the though while at the same time he just keeps having this vivid fantasy of coming home to you every day, of waking up by your side, seeing your tooth brush next to his, have your hair clog the drain of his shower, actually buy groceries to have at home and not just the pre-made meals and beer he is used to. He wants to treat you right and be good for you and yet you are standing firmly on your side denying him even the chance. It hurts him, he feels a little inadequate for as much as he is sure of himself he still wants to ask what is stopping you from taking a chance on him.

Outside you try to fix the bed a little bit after putting his clothes on the dryer. You feel electricity right under your skin, to have him naked in your bathroom, the man that just few hours ago had so many people screaming his name. It feels like a beautiful secret in your tongue, only for you. The reality is you like him as much as he does you, you really do, you are eager to see him every chance you can and your chest start beating so hard when you get a text from him. Since you met there has been rarely a week you go without talking and it feels nice, you want to keep it going. But he is a budding star, when you met him you could see it, that he was made of something otherworldly it was just waiting below the surface for the whole world to see and now they finally did. You are so incredibly proud of him, but it is exactly because of it that you can’t have him. He is young, can have so much fun with as many people as he wants, you don’t understand why he would want to tie himself down to you, knowing you can’t even follow him around like he wishes. He should be free, you would feel like you are cutting his wings too early and you can’t bear the thought of him deciding half way through that you are boring, that having a girlfriend is boring and the world is his oyster and he should just enjoy himself as much as he wants without you stopping him. He is not that type, not at all and you know it, but it still won’t let you take the step even when he has his hand out expectantly waiting on you.

You hear the water from the shower stop, you are probably not getting lucky tonight and that is okay, you just like having him near you, with the weather now he works as a personal heather. You haven’t really just slept together without sex as an excuse, not since the first time at least, and it makes you a little nervous. You think briefly about changing into nicer pajamas but he already saw the ones you are wearing so no point, you feel a rush of nervousness raise on your body. Before you get more anxious, he comes out of the bathroom, hair leaving little droplets of water on your floor as he walks. White towel hanging low from his hips, you appreciate the softness of his belly, the happy trail that disappears under the towel, the way the hair there is darker than anywhere else in his body and even more noticeable when wet. You can’t help but scan all over his body, ogle at his chest, his soft pecs and the thin hair on them that looks white usually and now a dark golden yellow, his wide shoulders littered with freckles because he can’t be bothered to ever use sunscreen, he is so beautiful it hurts. Without the excuse of sex you feel shy looking and maybe like a little bit of a creep, you try to avert your gaze. If he notices the staring he says nothing about it and slowly walks towards you. You are holding a towel in your hands “Let me help you” You say raising your hands above his head, he stands right in front of you making you look up, you start gently moving your hands to dry his hair a little, he places his big hands on your hips and pulls you closer, wants to kiss you so bad but stops himself, he doesn’t want to get kicked out in the middle of the night when your unmade bed looks so delicious and inviting. You feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze, his thumbs drawing circles in the exposed skin under your sleeping camisole, you want to make this last forever. “Done” You say almost in a whisper, you throw the towel on chair nearby. Almost on instinct you raise to your tip toes and kiss softly at his cheek, too late you realize what you just did, infinitely more intimate than what you should, you just look away quickly and clear your throat.

“Lets get some sleep yeah?” You say turning around to hide your blushing face, you climb on the bed and raise the comforter, patting at the empty space beside you motioning for him to move.

You make it so incredibly hard not to like you and he is such a weak man. He takes a few steps before reaching the edge of the bed, takes the towel off and throws it to the chair before climbing up behind you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, of course he would sleep naked he has no other clothes here but it also makes you fight a great urge to stare at his pretty dick hanging heavy between his legs. You turn over on bed and have your back face him, you cannot deal with any more of this tonight so you will just have to avoid it and try to figure out the best diplomatic solution on the morning. As you start to settle down you feel him move behind you, for a moment he stops and then you feel his strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you to his chest. Your heart is beating wildly, he has to be able to feel it trough the thin fabric of your pajamas that is doing very little to separate you from the heat of his body, you can’t be expected to sleep like this. He thinks even if you were surgically sewn together it would not be close enough, you feel so soft under his touch so tender he wants to, no, needs to fall asleep just like this for the rest of his life.

You close your eyes really hard trying to ignore everything around, you still actually need to sleep. There is a long moment of silence that feels like an eternity, then you feel him take a deep breath. You fear you know what is coming and you fear you are not strong enough right now to stop it.

“Why don’t you wanna date me?” He asks, the words come down on you heavy like rocks, you can feel a strain in his voice, you hate to be the reason why his usual cheerful tone is fully gone.

“Do we really have to have this conversation again?” You say your eyebrows knitting in worry.

“Yeah actually I want an answer.” He swiftly turns you around like you are weightless, he looks directly at you, deep blue eyes expectantly, you feel yourself shiver under his gaze, the tension is rapidly building up, you want to put distance between you but he has your legs trapped, tangled between his.

“Joost you know-” He cuts you off before you can give him the usual excuses.

“I’m serious about you, about us, would it be so terrible to date me?” He has a kicked puppy kind of face, you accidentally laugh at his dramatics, he adores that sound so much never tires of it. You snake your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer into a short kiss trying to distract him, he deepens the kiss eager explore you mouth, all but melts under your touch and you far too soon pull away before he can do more.

“You are hard” You mumble against his lips in between giggles.

He rolls his eyes at you, he is trying to be serious here “Ignore it, I am in the room of the woman I like where everything smells like her, give me a break.”

If there was any light in the room you would be able to see how deeply red his face is now.

“What are you a dog?” You say shaking your head entertained by his reactions.

You try to pull away but he grabs your hand again and rests it square against his heart like this way he will make you understand. “I really like you” He is not letting it go this time, you shake your head lightly again and pull your hand away, you cannot face this proximity, you untangle yourself from his embrace and raise into a sitting position, he does the same.

“Joost you are great, really I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you and I don’t think I ever will again.” There is a horrible pause, he knows what is coming next, the awful fear of rejection becoming reality far too quick. You continue “But you are traveling all over the world and that is so cool, I just can't be part of that.” He doesn’t understand why you look so sad when he is the one being let down here.

“We could make it work you know, phones exists and I come here all the time, it is only like an hour by plane” He is pleading at this point, feels so pathetic doing so but can’t stop himself. You make an effort to meet his gaze, he is being so sincere it feels bad not to.

“You could have someone new every night, at every city. You are young, you can enjoy yourself, you don’t have to tie yourself down to me, it would be such a waste-”

“Not to me, not when it is you” He is indignant at your proposal, he hates the idea that you could be so easily replaced, he feels like an idiot, like none of his efforts to make you understand how precious you are to him have reached you.

“I don’t want that” He is so exasperated now, it is like you are not listening to any of the words he is saying or not believing them which is even worse. “I don’t want any of that I don’t like it, I know I could but I don’t want it. I like you, I want you”. He pauses for a second to give himself strength to get it all out "It is my business and you can reject me if you want but you don’t get to tell me what I should do” He feels offended that you seem to not understand at all.

You had never seen him this angry. He goes speechless wracking his brain trying to come up with something else to say to convince you, maybe drinking before coming here was bad, he should do this sober, maybe bring some flowers and wear the blazer you like, maybe then you would not throw him out like an old toy. He is looking at you waiting for anything, his eyes are glossy, his lips almost tremble into a pout, his hands are clenched into nervous fists at his sides, he is pleading and you can’t help but reach out for him too. Fuck it, if you are gonna ever get hurt you want it to be him, if you get heart broken you want it to be him, whatever happens good or bad, you want it to be him, he is worth everything.

You close the distance between the two of you again, move to sit on his lap just to have him as close as possible, he has become a rock in your bed, feels like if he breathes he will break the spell and you will disappear right in front of his eyes. You grab at his hand, unclenching his fist with you fringes, softly stretching his palm and placing it right above your fast beating heart before speaking again.

“I really like you too Joost” His eyes shine impossibly bright, he looks at you stupefied, he can’t quiet belive what he is finally hearing, he feels your heart beating fast right under his palm, hard proof that you are just as gone for him as he is for you, his brain is trying to catch up to what is happening, but you help him.

You caress his cheek with your other hand and bring him into a sweet kiss. Your lips move together slowly like you are kissing again for the first time, his tongue pushes softly into your mouth, he wants to taste you, he traces the back of your teeth, you suck softly on his plump bottom lip, you smile into the kiss and pull away gently but continue to pepper soft kisses on his lips, on his jaw, on his cheeks. You wonder if he was always this handsome or has your love made him even more beautiful now. He pulls you closer hugs you thigh, happy just to be in your embrace again and feel like he truly belongs there. He chases after your lips kisses you like he is drowning and you are the only source of air, he feels the softness of your mouth it takes him back to the first night he met you, he wants to stay here forever, live on this moment until the end of time, only you and him in a soft unmade bed kissing for eternity.

Finally with lips kissed raw you pull away leaving one last small peck on the little beauty mark underneath his bottom lip. He holds you close, traces soft circles with his palms on your back under the camisole savoring every inch of exposed skin he can touch. You let him relax under you for a bit before you speak again, with a new world of prospects opening in front of you you want to share some more ideas with him now that all the cards are on the table.

“You know…my company is thinking of opening a new branch in Nethera-”

“Yes” he cuts you off immediately, you laugh at his eagerness.

“I didn’t finish talking” You push the hair away from his pretty face so you can see him better.

“You can stay with me yeah? I have a guest room you can stay there if you feel more comfortable, I am not trying to imply we have to sleep together but I mean we could if you wanted to” He is running his mouth all nervous and impatient like he is just a few steps away from winning the race of his life, you don’t reply, all too amused at his monologue, but it makes him fear he might have overstepped and scared you too fast with commitments. “I mean, until you get settled and you find an apartment, I could help you with that…” He trails off and looks away shyly, then looks up again holding your gaze. “But you could stay there too if you wanted, it could be your home too.”

He looks up at you from under white eyelashes, eyes full of hope. The possibilities seem endless, at this moment you feel like you can touch the sky with your hands and that if you couldn’t reach he would pull it down for you. You nod speechless, bite your lip and kiss him again, because you can, because he is yours.

You keep playing with his hair as rest his head on your chest, feels your heart beat under his ear, he wants to memorize it, now knows he has all the time in the world to do so. You move slightly on his lap.

“But we really do have to sleep now” You say, your voice sounds suddenly so groggy, every worry you have had the past months, that would keep you up at night, seems to have melted away in an instant and your body is feeling so tired and heavy.

He nods against you and moves you softly into laying down position again. He wants to start getting used to taking care of you, he thinks it will come easy, already feels so satisfied with so little, he lets you settle on the bed then moves behind you again snaking his arms around your torso pushing his palms under your shirt to feel the soft expanses of your belly as you breath in and out, you let him, between his strong arms it feels like home.

You feel your eyes close heavy, the sound of his calm breathing behind you lulling you to sleep, the steady beat of his heart perfectly in synch with yours, but you can’t fully let slumber take you since somewhere in the kissing his dick woke up again and is now pressing against your back.

You laugh to yourself before speaking. “Joost you know I can feel your dick, right?”.

He hums in acknowledgment but makes no further move, he just keeps holding you on his embrace, his chest against your back soft and deliciously warm. “Ignore it” He says in a sleepy mumble that transforms into a yawn right above your head. “My girlfriend has work in the morning, you have to let her sleep.” He loves how that sounds coming from his mouth, gets excited thinking about using that word again.

If you turned around at that moment you would see the beautiful smile that paints his features, he looks like he just won the lottery. He can’t wait for tomorrow, to wake up and have breakfast in your table, gets excited over the prospect of all the mundane with you. He falls asleep quickly with the warmth of your body nestled between his arms, in his dreams he sees even further ahead, dreams of taking you with him everywhere you will let, of changing your contact name to “Liefde” and of continuing to call you his girlfriend forever and ever until one day if he is lucky, he can upgrade it to wife.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

PREQUEL: STEP ON ME ₊˚⊹♡ MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚

#joost klein #joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost x you #joost #joost smut #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfiction #tell me what u thought idk sghajbdks

356 notes · View notes

idiopath-fic-smile · 18 days ago

Text

so literally eight years ago i posted a snippet of a modern retelling of Much Ado About Nothing set in a student co-op and for no particular reason, the concept is tickling my brain right now. so uh here, have this? i guess?

“So, Ursula, my dear,” said Lee, taking the seat across from her at the dinner table. “My fluffy little crumpet. My buttery brioche bun. My tangy slice of pumpernickel—”

Ursula squinted up from her Anthro reading. “Uh-oh,” she said. “You only call me bread when I’m in trouble.”

“Happened to glance at the meeting notes this morning,” Lee continued, her voice rising. “You’ve got anything you wanna explain or defend?”

Ursula flicked her highlighter from one finger to the other, determined to play it cool. “I think it’s all pretty self-explanatory. Which meeting notes, exactly, were you glancing at?” She peeked out of the corner of her eye to check how this was going down.

Poorly.

Lee stared at her, apparently at a loss for words, which was not a great look for the house president.

“You did this more than once.”

“I take notes every meeting, Lee,” she said, as levelly as possible given how Lee’s ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ Mom vibes were oozing from every pore. “It’s my job, as house secretary.”

“Is it?” said Lee tightly. “Is it your job?” She whisked opened her laptop and read aloud:

“Benedick’s eyes blazed with passionate fury. His nostrils quivered. ‘Well,’ he said in a low growl, hair resplendent under the environmentally friendly fluorescent lights, ‘personally, I think if anything, there's not ENOUGH lentils—’ Beatrice gasped. It was so wrong, and yet…”

Ursula winced. “‘Said in a low growl’ is wordy. I should’ve just put ‘growled’.”

Lee pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ursula,” she began, “just how much of our official co-op house notes, which by the way are formally submitted each month to the Co-op Board, are written as if Benedick and Beatrice’s stupid arguments are some kind of torrid Harlequin paperback?”

“That depends.” Ursula steepled her fingers, dropping the highlighter in the process. “How much of my notes do you have access to?”

“All of them,” Lee gritted out. “Because they’re public. That’s what I’m saying.”

“Look,” said Ursula. “I don’t think I said this when I ran, but I wanted to be house secretary in the first place because a lot of the time, taking notes is the only way I can make myself concentrate. I would literally be taking notes during the meeting anyway. It’s an ADHD thing.”

Ursula sighed. “And pretty early on, it became clear that meetings in Messina House are basically just a Sexual Tension Thunderdome for Benedick and Beatrice. They go back and forth for pages sometimes. I can feel every electrical connection in my brain fighting to zone out. So yeah. For a while I rewrote their fights as rhymed couplets, for a very short bit of time I had Balthazar set them to sea shanties, and since last December, I’ve been transcribing very close to their actual words, with very close to their actual intentions, plus just a tiny bit of genre trimmings. If they’re gonna waste my Saturday and test my focus, I’m doing what I can to stay awake and keep my typing fingers limber. I’m up to 75 WPM, by the way.”

“December?” Lee repeated. “Ursula, it’s October. You’ve been doing this for over a semester?” A terrible wave of realization seemed to sweep over her just then, regarding the general pacing and content of a standard Harlequin. “Please tell me,” she whispered, “there is no sex in the meeting notes—”

“There’s no sex in the meeting notes,” Ursula interrupted. “Per se,” she added under her breath.

Lee’s lips were pressed together into a thin line. “One year,” she said. “I want one year where nobody drives a motorcycle down the hallway or accidentally mixes up chlorine gas during their bathroom clean, or spends almost a full calendar year slipping smut into the public record—!”

“Excuse you,” said Ursula. “Smut’s a different genre altogether. This is romance. Slow-burn, enemies to lovers.”

Lee threw up her hands, nearly knocking over her laptop. “What are you gonna do if Benedick or Beatrice sees this?” “Oh.” Ursula froze. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, uh-oh,” she said. “Look, clearly there’s only one thing to do.”

Ursula nodded. “Right, we have to execute a series of far-fetched shenanigans designed to turn those two fighting fish into a pair of cooing lovebirds, stat.”

“No,” said Lee. “What? No, you need to go back and rewrite all of—”

Pedro slid into the room in his socks. “Oh sweet, are we hooking up Benedick with Beatrice?”

“Hell yeah,” said Ursula. They high-fived.

Lee closed her laptop with a snap. “Ursula, what are the odds,” she said, “that you actually buckle down and rewrite all of the meeting notes to read like they were written in the genre of meeting notes?”

“Oh, like, zero,” said Ursula, as Pedro chimed in,

“Yeah, that will not happen.”

Lee looked despairingly back and forth between Ursula and Pedro. “What do you think is the likelihood that playing love gods will like, actually, genuinely work?”

“Twenty percent,” said Ursula.

Margaret glanced up from the other end of the table, where she was gluing together a collage of every restaurant on campus that had ever given her food poisoning. It was for class, was the thing.

Art school kids, man.

“We’re tricking Benedick and Beatrice into giving themselves over to their intense chemistry?” asked Margaret.

“Thirty percent,” said Ursula, because Margaret was inscrutable much of the time but surely they would have a fighting chance with more of the Humanities on their side.

At “intense chemistry,” Lee shuddered. “That reminds me,” she said, standing and scooping up her laptop, “I need to post a sign in the basement bathroom warning people not to mix bleach with acid.”

“Are you in?” said Pedro as Lee attempted to slip out the door. “Love Gods?”

“Jesus Christ,” said Lee.

“Not a love god,” Margaret announced. She had found the sequins, and was applying them with enthusiasm. “Except in the general Peace on Earth sense, I guess.”

“I’m texting Hero,” said Ursula, digging for her phone. “She knows Beatrice better than anyone. She’ll have tips. That puts our potential success rate at 45%, easy.”

“If we’ve got Hero, we’ve got Claudia,” Pedro added. “And she’s been BFF with Benedick since freshman year.”

“This is a terrible plan,” Lee muttered. “Yeah,” said Ursula, “but you implied it yourself. If, uh, certain parties see my meeting notes, they will murder me. Do you really want a fellow co-oper’s blood on your hands?”

Just then, Benedick burst into the room, Beatrice on his heels.

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice shouted, “are you genuinely trying to argue that soybeans are the superior legume? Soybeans? Over chickpeas? Over kidney beans? Hell, over peas?”

“Soy milk,” said Benedick, counting on his fingers, “silken tofu, miso, tempeh, firm tofu—”

Beatrice took a step closer to him, eyes flashing, “I have never in my life had tempeh that tasted like anything other than an evil Cliff Bar.”

“It’s not my fault your tastebuds were installed backwards,” said Benedick. “This from the woman who still, in the year of some people’s lord 2024, thinks lattes are ‘too trendy’—”

“Espresso is a waste of coffee grounds,” said Beatrice in a low, dangerous voice.

Benedick gasped. “You take that back.”

Beatrice took a step closer. “Coldbrew has more flavor and more caffeine.”

“Coldbrew,” Benedick echoed, stepping even closer. “You’re defending that swill over a nice mocha? Get latte’s name out of your mouth.”

Benedick and Beatrice were standing almost nose to nose, breathing hard.

“You know what?” said Lee from the door. “Ursula? Fuck it, I’m in.”

Ursula whooped. Margaret reached for the glitter glue. Benedick and Beatrice visibly both ran through their mental rolodexes of coffee-related insults.

From the entryway came the distant revving of a motorcycle engine. Borachio was no doubt doing wheelies in the foyer again, but that was a problem for house presidents, not innocent house secretaries who had done no wrong, thought Ursula as she returned to her reading and her growing mental to-do list.

#much ado about co ops

275 notes · View notes

lesservillain · 5 months ago

Text

v. i want to hold the hand inside you

summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.

Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.

When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.

“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.

“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?”

“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”

Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.

“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.

“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”

“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”

You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside.

“Wha—I, uh—”

Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling.

“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”

“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”

“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.

“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.”

Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.

“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.

“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her.

“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”

You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”

Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.

“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”

“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically.

“What does that even mean?!”

“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”

“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”

“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”

Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.

“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.

“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.

“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”

“Sure,” you say suspiciously.

“Is Sam real?”

“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”

You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.

“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.

“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”

“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”

“But…?”

“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”

Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.

“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.

“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”

Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.

“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”

Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”

“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.

“Why’d she tell him that?”

“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”

“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn’t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately.

He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot.

But, of course you didn’t.

You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.

In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around.

And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games.

Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.

Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that.

“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over.

It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.

Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between.

It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.

Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.

“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.

It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’

“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.”

“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you.

What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.

‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’

“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.

“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.

“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”

“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.”

Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”

The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.

You flip the picture over to read the back.

‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’

Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time.

They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam.

“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”

“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.

“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”

Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours.

“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”

“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you.

“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.

“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door.

While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.

It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do.

Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.

“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”

You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open.

He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.

Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.

“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.

Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off.

He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head.

All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.

Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.

But you didn’t.

Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.

And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.

“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?

Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before.

After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him.

Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden.

You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…

Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world.

The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.

“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone.

Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”

“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”

Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.

“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation.

You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.

“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”

“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”

“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”

All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?

“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.

Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it.

But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.

The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.

Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.

But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.

Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road.

Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.

After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.

You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them.

Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.

The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.

Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.

“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.

The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.

“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.

“Wayne, it’s me.”

You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.

When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.

“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you.

“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.

Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.

“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement.

The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”

“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.”

“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again.

The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.

As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow.

A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter.

“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”

Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel.

“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”

“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”

Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”

“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.

“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”

“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.

“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”

Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath.

“I, um, we…”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”

“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”

“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”

The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.

“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”

“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.

“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”

“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”

“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.

“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”

“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.

“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.”

“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.”

Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you.

“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.

“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.

“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.

“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.

“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips.

“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.

“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall.

Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.

The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.

Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster.

Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.

Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.

You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…

Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.

Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.

“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.

“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.

“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.

“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.

“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”

After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain.

With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping.

You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts.

But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.

That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment.

“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian.

“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances.

“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park.

After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags.

Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours.

“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.

To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.

Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.

Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.

“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.

“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”

“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie.

The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.

It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?

“Look mommy! What is that?”

The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.

“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you.

“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral.

Sure enough he was looking at it, too.

“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.

Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.

Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.

“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.

“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”

“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.

“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”

Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”

“Do you want one?”

Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.

“Do I want a kiss?”

You nod.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”

Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie.

When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.

“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”

“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”

Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him.

Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.

“—Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.

“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”

Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.

When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier.

Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.

Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.

The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.

With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave.

Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.

You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.

“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.

“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.”

“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”

“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”

“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.

“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”

You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him.

“Can I tell you something…”

You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.

“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.

“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”

“But?”

“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”

You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s.

“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”

“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”

The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours.

“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”

“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”

“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”

“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”

“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”

“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside.

“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”

“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room.

Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.

“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.

“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace.

“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”

“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.

“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.

“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.

“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”

“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”

“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”

Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.

For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.

Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.

But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.

“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.

But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered.

And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move.

You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.

At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.

Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.

“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.

“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.

“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”

“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”

You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.

You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.

“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.

You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him

“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”

“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—”

Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you’re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.

“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.

“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”

Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.

“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.

“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”

“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”

“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”

Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”

You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”

“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.

“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door.

“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”

Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.

“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.

“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”

That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.

“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.

“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”

“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.

She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.

“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.

“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”

“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.

“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”

“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.

The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”

“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”

“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”

The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986.

The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so.

But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max.

Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long.

As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in.

But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips.

And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening.

Then it hits you.

You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.

thank you for reading!

a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.

Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #disabled!eddie munson #disabled!eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie st

481 notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 1 month ago

Text

brocon | a. oliver

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader, unrequited love (from reader but not to oliver), presence of honorfics (nii-san mostly), incest (incestual roleplay and one sided incestual affection lol), oliver is not the older brother but he wishes he was, Too Casual About Incest in this one, oral (m!recieving), mentions of cervix fucking + deepthroating, cream pies, casual sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 2.5k

✮ a/n ; im reading too many doujinshis. everyday i become a little more insane. i miss you all. i also hate this guy.

c. consider this like a prelude by the way. im definitely going to expand on this universe rip.

also im dead fucking tired so tenses are all over the place. im gonna skip class tomorrow i think lol

✮ synopsis ; oliver is not put off by your brother complex. he probably should be.

Oliver isn’t very meddlesome.

He’s a captain, but that’s as far as he’s ever willing to extend himself when it comes to getting deeply involved with other people. He loves soccer, loves strikers, etc. Annoying shit is tolerable if it’s for the love of the game.

So in terms of his willingness to interfere, it starts and stops at soccer.

The same is not true for relationships. Never has been really. He isn’t sure if he’s always been like that. He got his heart broken in high school, before his career took off and get much time to think about what he wanted after.

He’ll never claim to be paragon of morality. Whether or not he’s pre-disposed for it, he’s been around the block and doesn’t take anything too seriously. A lot of what he’s down for just depends on where he’s at and he stands to gain.

But, he’s always been straightforward about it so whatever.

From experience, he prefers dating women with a lot to lose - career driven types. Long term, they’re the easiest to break up with because they rarely chase after him and have little desire for the spotlight. He likes cute, innocent types too, for different reasons - but it can get messy easily so he has to be off season to fuck them or date. His type in men depends on what he’s feeling. He likes getting topped by quiet, stoic men and likes topping slutty pretty boys.

Case and point, Olivers type is whoever wants to fuck him and he wants to fuck too. It’s not complicated and isn’t defined by any particular thing. When it comes to appearance and personality - well he’s fine with whatever. He’s not really interested in being exclusive. He likes to have fun and like freely, or something like that.

His only real criteria for sex and partnership are: discreet, sane, want to fuck him.

You fit one of those parameters for sure. You’re very discreet.

But while you and Oliver are sleeping together, it’s not him you actually want.

Oliver met you a few months back. You were by yourself in the bar of a nice motel and dressed to the nines, crying alone over a drink. The game plan was simple. He would chat you up, console you, and bring you to bed. You both get to feel good, and you get to forget for a while.

An attempted act of kindness and sincerity.

He did just that too. Slid up next to you easy, bought you a drink. You were mostly sober - told him you had to drive early the next day. Alcohol was just to soothe your broken heart. You broke down after that. Red-rimmed watery eyes, barely keeping it together - it didn’t take much effort for Oliver to get you to open up. Apparently someone you loved had just got married. You even gave a speech for the wedding. Sobbed a little about how you’re happy he’s happy but you’re devastated.

Oliver offered you a shoulder to cry on. Whispered in your ear real sweet about licking each others wounds for the night. How he’d be happy to help you forget. You went back to your hotel with little fuss. And he’s a half decent bastard after all, so he didn’t go too hard on you during the sex. Gave you boyfriend treatment as a consolation prize for your efforts. Foreheads pressed together, arms around his shoulders, lots of kissing and making eye contact.

That kind of sex is fun sometimes, at least when it’s not very serious.

You had great compatibility in bed. Some post coital pillow talk also revealed that your mutual interests meshed pretty well - so you decided to see each other again for the purposes of fucking. Oliver needs a reliable partner who won’t try to ruin his career and you need a shoulder to lean on and forget about your true love.

It was working out well for him really. And like he said, he’s not really the type to pry into other peoples affairs.

For better or for worse though, having frequent sex with someone usually gets you acquainted with random aspects of their life. The friends parts of friends with benefits usually means you’re seeing some part of them you didn’t sign up for.

It took three months of sleeping with you, around the 8th time you met up for sex, for him to realize who your unrequited love actually was.

He thought it might’ve been someone off limits from the way you spoke about it. Though you tended to avoid the subject altogether.

Had he known he was going to get involved with a girl that has the worst brother complex he’s ever seen, he would’ve reconsidered seeing you again.

Maybe. Or maybe not.

Truthfully, Oliver is less bothered by brocon thing than he thought he’d be. He hadn’t realized because of anything you told him. Just that once, you were laying on his chest when you got a call in the middle of the night from your older brother.

You’re not the sweet type, to put it bluntly. Oliver would categorize you as the working professional sort with a lot to lose - high spec and calculating. Aside from the night he met you, he’d never seen you act in a way he would consider needy or childish - even after sex. Or ever, really - even when something happens that might garner that response.

Seeing the way your eyes lit up, the way your whole demeanor changed as you spoke with him on the phone. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He didn’t have plans to confront you about it at the time. It wasn’t really his business, or at least that’s what he told himself.

At a certain point though, he felt like he couldn’t dance around it.

He brought it up on a whim one night. Regretted it because he liked your current relationship and didn’t want it to end, but he felt it had to be done.

He doesn’t know what exactly he was expecting, if anything at all. He thought you’d cuss him out or something. Tell him to fuck off and mind his business. Tell him to not be gross, maybe.

But he didn’t expect tears, nor did he expect the childish sadness that came along with the mere mention of you beloved nii-san.

That had made him wanna pry.

It wasn’t hard to get you to open up about it. Frankly, he didn’t actually give a shit about the incest part, so you felt safe enough to tell him when he asked. Your older brother was basically your whole life. You’re half siblings, abandoned by the same parent. You had a rough upbringing but your older brother took care of you and sacrificed a lot. You realized you were in love with him in middle school and kept it in since. He’s about four years older than you and his wife is a very gentle person.

Oliver isn’t concerned about the details. He’s nosy - so he asks but he wouldn’t’ve forced you if you didn’t want to talk about it. But it seems like you really did, since you were happy to tell him anything on your mind.

You were…different after that. After he knew, you relaxed considerably. He didn’t think of you as guarded until you stopped being that way and started acting more… docile.

Oliver doesn’t mind that change either, which is shocking for him. Usually you’re far off but after you cum, you soften up and act kind of… cute.

You’re a little clingier, and generally speaking - sweeter to him when you’re guard is down. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose. You never ask Oliver to treat you any softer or get demanding with him. And there’s never an instance where he has to worry about if that’ll change because as nice as you are to him, it’s clear as day that no one in the world will ever surpass your affection for your older brother.

(Once, after sex, Oliver asks you what you like about about your older brother. The question comes as a shock to you both, but mostly to him because he isn’t sure why he thinks to ask. You’re happy enough to answer it though. According to you, he’s perfect.

He’s kind and thoughtful, gentle and doting, tall, strong and handsome. You’ve got little hearts in your eyes when you say all this. You add towards the end that part of the reason you sleep with Oliver is because they’re so different you can forget all about it.

He laughs at that, but he isn’t sure how sincere it is.)

As time goes by, Oliver never gets totally used to the change. As soon as you get a call or text from your beloved nii-san, you perk up like all the life has been breathed back into you. He hears you talk sometimes and it’s clear that your brother also probably has a bit of a sister complex.

You’re more open around Oliver sure - but it pales in comparison to when you get a call from him. How could a person be so different? He assumes the answer is love, but he can’t wrap his head around it having that much impact on your character.

Oliver tries not to think about it.

You’ve continued sleeping together out of habit and as time went by - you started to hang out for no real reason. It’s remained casual. You never want anything from him except dick and sometimes attention, but its clear that it isn’t from the one sided hope of becoming his girlfriend. And he knows almost too well that you don’t care for him in a special way because he knows what that looks like on you - and every kindness you’ve shown him is just who you are.

It’s not like Oliver isn’t keenly aware of all of that.

But it doesn’t stick until he offers up roleplaying with you on a whim.

He suggests it to fuck with you really. And maybe because he’s a little irritated by it. He wants to upset you a little, petty as it is. See how you react. He was expecting you to get pissed off, maybe even cuss him out a little over being a jerk.

That is not the reaction he receives. Instead you flush all over. Your hands fist on your knees and you get shy over just the prospect. He’s had you bent in every position known to man but he’s never seen you more embarrassed then the very idea of uttering the name nii-san in relation to sex.

You do have a moment of sobriety after the fact, hit him with your pillow and tell him not to be a dick.

But then, he can’t let it go. So he grabs you by the wrist and says it’s fine. It’s what he’s here for isn’t he? Always has been.

Only seeing it does it start to really click.

It’s the most intense sex you’ve ever had , and it doesn’t feel profoundly fucked up until you take his dick into your mouth. Hearts in your eyes while he strokes your hair, swallowing his cock - nuzzling it, kissing, it and being so devoted he doesn’t know if he’s the most unlucky man alive or the least.

You’re always a sight for sore eyes when you’re hoping to please him somehow. You’re a little haughty in bed in a way he’s into—

But fuck, it’s different when you’re doing it for your big brother. He’s never seen you so horny in his life. Touching yourself so desperately while you’re deepthroating his length, eyes rolling back into your skull as you swallow him all the down to the base. Moaning into it even as you gag and hiccup and spit.. Drool clinging to your lips, stretched all the way to the corners - wetness sliding down the curve of your neck and chest. Your face flush, damp tears clinging to your lashes while he strokes his thumb against your cheek and tells you the same few words over and over.

Nii-san’s so proud of you. You’re being so good for your me. Over and over, reinforcing it again and again. Hearing the words and just thinking of it seem to be enough for you.

It’s about the same when he does finally fucks you. Oliver gets into it at the end. Puts you in a full nelson and fucks you stupid, the head of his cock battering into you and demanding to be let in. You feel good split apart on his dick - pussy stretched so tight it barely fits him.

You always do your best to take him, but he sees what the affection does to you. You get so horny that you spread your legs without being fucked open on his fingers first. Your body is responsive to it. He almost feels bad for your brother, not getting to know what it feels like. Oliver is only playing pretending but your cunt squeezes his dick so tight, holds onto him like it doesn’t want to let go. It’s not even the real thing yet your body is keen on milking him. Built and bred like it was made for your older brother to fuck.

He’ll never get the chance too. Oliver relishes in it more than he can be honest about.

Once he’s inside, you tell Oliver in a lust drunk haze that nii-san can have whatever he wants. That’s when he knows you’re running on nothing but lust. And by then, he is too. You whimper when he moves - say yes when he hisses that he’s gonna fuck you deep enough to flood your cervix. Nod desperately when he offers to fuck your cervix open too.

It’s nothing but filthy bullshit but the words come out easier as his cock keeps slipping out of you from how wet you are over the thought alone.

It finally settles in when when you’ve nearly fucked yourself unconscious. Riding his cock with your tshirt pulled up over your tits, eyes closed and legs wobbling - saying it over and over. Begging for your brother who you love so dearly while you fuck on him with all the strength in your hips.

Seeing that makes him realize that he’s not a stand-in.

Only because it’s an impossible outcome in the first place.

It’s the first time he cums inside of you, and the first time you cry after sex. Oliver holds you afterwards. You whisper a thank you so sincere to him afterwards he loses his fucking mind, all soft and watery and needy. Don’t protest when he pulls you into a bath or holds you.

You stay with him through the night and he realizes right about then that he’s completely and utterly fucked.

It’s his karma, he assumes. Wanting a girl who has a severe brother complex is Oliver’s own special hell - hand crafted to make him feel as fucked up as possible.

But damn does he want you bad anyway.

#tw oliver aiku #oliver x reader #bluelock x reader #oliver smut #bluelock smut #incest cw #im delirious as fuck sdkjhsjdflmkj #writing tag #me when i post this in the middle of the night and disappear HEKSDJKSD

228 notes · View notes