#can't set up uncomfortable situations if I'm not prepared to then play in the uncomfortable space.....

[blujayonthewing]

felix: [takes limerick aside early in the campaign and confides, with difficulty because he's ashamed about it, that he sometimes has trouble speaking at all, because he wants at least someone to have fair warning ahead of it possibly coming up if he's gonna be traveling in a group for any amount of time]

limerick the first time felix mostly loses speech: you've been really quiet, everything okay? do you have any thoughts to add [to this discussion]? :)

limerick last session when simon lowkey assigned felix to go do a social encounter: I'll go with you, to help with the talking :)

limerick as soon as we're in the social encounter: [looks directly at felix, expectantly]

[luvfy0dor]

“I Can't Help But Pamper You ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

warnings; kisses, sassy Fyodor,

description; pampering BSD boys at home? I dunno how else to describe it jdskskkek

A/n; Happy birthday to Dazai and happy Juneteenth!!! I've been swamped with state testing and finals and studying for them, I got three more to go, 3/6 completed. I'm kinda excited for summer but I'll feel like I have nothin' to do. idea cred to @yaeeko and Nikolai scenario inspiration from @ilovechuuy4

Dazai Osamu ★

Dazai is almost never the first one up. Every morning, you take on the responsibilities of an alarm clock by shaking your boyfriend awake from his fifth 'just five more minutes' every morning. You were blessed with weekends off, though, and one Saturday morning when you inevitably woke up before Osamu, you decided to embrace your inner chef. Maybe you're not the best cook, but anyone is better than Dazai, so you did most of the food preparation. You never really made breakfast, though. Dazai usually just took an apple or two and you never had time to power up the stove and make pancake batter or anything of the sort, so this morning, you figured you would. You whipped out a couple pans, and some boxed pancake mix and eggs and got to work. You made sure Dazais eggs were cooked just right before playing them, a long with the less-than-perfect pancakes. Sure they were a little crispy, but Dazai wouldn't mind too much. All that was left to do was grab a fork and syrup and bring the meal back to him in your room. Pushing the door open with your foot, you walked in and set the plate on the nightstand, gently shaking him awake. His brows furrow and his nose scrunched up. "'Samu, wake up, I brought you breakfast." You say, running your fingers through his messy brown hair. He stretches his limbs before peeking open his eyes and smiling. "Did you now? How romantic of you!" He sits up and lets you hand him the plate. "This is so thoughtful of you! Come sit down." He pats the empty spot next to him. You crawl over him to get there and lean onto his shoulder once your fully situated. His nimble fingers grip the fork loosely as he cuts off a sliver of the pancake and holds it up to your lips. "Go on, try it." He encourages and you bite it off of the fork, humming at the taste. "Wow, I did pretty good, huh." You say, satisfied. He nods with a grin, continuing to munch on his breakfast. "Better than that time you burnt gravy." You roll your eyes but nod, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

Chuuya Nakahara ★

The second you offered a hot shower with Chuuya to unwind one evening, he was happily accepting. He wasted no time heading to the closet to grab a towel, slinging one over his shoulder for you along with his. He let you pull him in by his waist for a kiss while you leaned against the sink, and even though the shower wasn't turned on yet, the mirrors were already fogging up. Your hand creeps up to cup his face, running your thumb over his pronounced cheekbones as he sighs into your kisses. He pulls away, his face flustered and red. "C'mon, let's get into the shower before we end up distracted." He says playfully. He starts to undo his vest and meets you halfway in the middle without having realized that your fingers were fumbling with the buttons too. He chuckles quietly and lets you help him finish undressing before the both of you step into the steamy shower. He hums in contentment at the feeling of the hot water against his overworked muscles, his body immediately relaxing. Your instinct tells you to hug him from behind while the water cascades over the two of you, but you reason that it would be uncomfortably hot, so you opt to wash his body for him instead. He'd let a quiet but pleased sound out at the favor, mumbling thanks and closing his eyes, letting the relaxing water nearly consume him. Chuuya had never loved showers more than he did when he took one with you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

Every night before you went to bed, you had a really quick skincare routine. All it really was was washing your face, putting on moisturizer, and using a lip scrub, but you enjoyed it and felt that it did what it was supposed to. Occasionally, Fyodor would stand by and watch, his interest piqued. Sometimes he'd ask questions or make comments on your routine, such as "that must be why your lips are so soft." Or "What exactly does it do for your face? I don't think it can really fix it." I'm a firm believer that Fyodor is actually kinda playful and teases his partner from time to time. "Its not supposed to 'fix it', dumdum. It makes the skin softer 'nd stuff." You'd reply with an eye roll. He'd fall silent for a second, watching as you apply the scrub to your lips. "Can I try it?" You put you finger on your chin and hummed pensively, turning to him and nodding. "I guess." You rummaged through the drawer in the sink for your recently discarded headband with floppy, worn out bunny ears on the top. He leaned against the sink and let you put it on him, pulling it over his head and then pushing it up again to keep his long bangs out of his face. He looked over his shoulder at himself in the mirror while you grabbed your moisturizer and scrub and grimaced. "I look much better with my bangs. This certainly isn't ideal." He'd tell you, turning back to face you, only to be spinned around once again.

"Just splash some water on your face." You say, turning the sink on for him. "Is that really necessary? My shirt is going to get all soaked-" "You can always change, go on, Fedya.' You say, your hand on his lower back as he reluctantly leans over the sink and gently uses his cupped hands to bring the water to his face a couple times. When he stood back up again, water dripped down his skin and from his eyelashes and his cheeks were very slightly flushed. "What now? I'm all cold and wet." He murmurs, standing stiffly as the droplets continue to roll down his face. You grab a small towel and pat his face dry for him, getting to his lips and stealing a quick peck. You then pump some of the moisturizer onto your hand and start rubbing it into his pale skin. The cream leaves a glossy effect afterwards and he runs his fingers over his cheek to feel the smooth texture. He watches you take out the lip scrub and gather some on your finger. "Open up." You say. He raises an eyebrow but parts his lips, slightly grimacing as you aggressively apply the product. "Okay, now rub your lips together." He does as directed and can't help but lick his lower one. "It tastes good, like artificial blueberry." He says and you nod in agreement. "My lips do feel softer, though." He says, continuously feeling them and taking in the softer texture. "Let me feel." You say, gently guiding his hand away from his mouth in order to lean in and kiss him, intertwining your fingers with his as you do so. "Yeah, I think it definetly worked." You mumble as you pull away. Maybe you should rope him into your routine more often.

Nikolai Gogol ★

"Dove, you ever see those people who put on face masks and then they do the whole 'cucumber over the eyes' thing? We should try that!" Your boyfriend calls out to you from the kitchen, searching for the cucumber you bought last week. He finally found it in one of the drawers and quickly grabbed a cutting board and knife. "Where'd that come from?" You ask with a raised eyebrow as you walk into the kitchen, standing at the counter next to him. "I dunno, it just came to mind. Seems fun though, doesnt it?" He chopped six slices off of the cucumber and wrapped it back up to be put back in the fridge. "Yeah, sure." You grab one of the slices and take a bite. "Let me go grab the face masks real quick. Do you want your robe? To enhance the experience?" He grins as he heads down the hallway to the bathroom. "Kolya it's like, a million degrees in here, it's summer and we have no ac, I'm surprised you're not already walking around naked and you wanna wear a robe? You're out your mind." You say, following the white haired man to find him in the bathroom closet, grabbing two charcoal masks. "I'll do as I please, and if that's wearing a fuzzy robe in the summer, then so be it. The cucumbers will cool me down."

You roll your eyes and pull the hair tie you keep on your wrist off to bunch up and hold Nikolais bangs out of his face. "Mm, much better! Let's go, I want to lay down." He says with an excited smile, dragging out along back to the couch. He plops down and sprawls out, half of one leg hanging off the edge. You follow suit but remain sitting up and rip the mask open by the tear strip. "Oops, we forgot the cucumbers in the kitchen." He says, opening his portal and sticking his arm through, pulling it out a couple seconds later with the cucumbers in hand. "Thank you." You say appreciatively. "Now close your eyes." You say, placing two of them on his eyes. "I feel much cooler already." He says, making you roll your eyes with a smile. You squeeze out the mask and spread it onto his face with your pointer finger until it covered most of the surface area except for his lips. "This is so relaxing! I'll have to do yours for you after I'm done with mine." He says, clearly having a great time. You gently massage his scalp while you let him marinate and can't help but be surprised that he hasn't eaten the cucumbers yet. Just as you the thought floats through your head, he reaches over and grabs one of the extra cucumbers on the plate, bringing it to his mouth and practically swallowing it whole. You laugh at him quietly. "I thought those were for me?" He hums to indicate that they weren't as he chews. "Not anymore." You smiled and lean down to peck his lips quickly, feeling your heart flutter with affection for him, just like it did the day you first met. "Alright, Kolya, whatever you say."

Sigma ★

Sigma was very fond of done-up nails, always admiring his customers when they had them painted with colors and sparkles, glossy or matte. One evening, he turned in from his manager job for the night and called out your name, just to find you sitting in bed, cross-legged, painting your nails. His eyes literally up and he walked closer, sitting down next to you. "That's a pretty color. Can you do mine too?" You looked up at him and smiled, shaking your hand to get the polish to dry faster. "Yeah, just give me a second.." you say, blowing your nails and continuously shaking them. It didn't take long for them to dry and you held out your hand for Sigmas. "Alright, let me see." He quickly put his hand in yours. You unscrewed the cap and scraped off the excess nail polish and started painting his left nails. His gaze was fixated on the brush as his nails went from a pale white to a glossy red. You made it to his ring finger before stopping. "Do you want an accent nail?" You ask him. His brows slightly furrowed before a look of realization appeared on his face. "That's when one of them is different, right?" You nod. "Yeah, what other colors are there?"

You reach over to a small, plastic bag on the nightstand and pull out three other polishes, one a shade of purple, a white one, and a black one. "Can I have purple?" You smiled and nodded, unscrewing the cap. "It almost matches your hair." You say, painting his ring finger and then alternating to the red one again for the pinky. "Wave your hand so it dries faster." He does as told. "I'm so happy, I see all these people with nails like this and I've wanted to do mine for a while. Did you know?" You shrugged with a smile, starting on his right hand. "Well, I always see you admire other people's nails, so I figured I'd do mine so you'd give me that attention too, but no, I didn't." You finish up his left hand and instruct him to wave it. "Ohhh...well that's even better because now we can match." He says. His cheeks are a little pinker than before and he takes your hand in his, examining your near perfect nails. "They're so pretty." He mumbles, looking back up at you with his big eyes. "Thank you." You appreciatively say, leaning in to peck his lips. He kisses you back happily and squeezes your hand. He felt so much joy every time he looked at his colored nails, and even more when he saw yours and his together.

A/n; I wasn't gonna put a 2nd a/n but it feels weird not being here, but I don't got nothing to say 🤷

[knockoffheart]

Neuman's Guard Dog (1/3)

summary: desperate times call for desperate measures. victoria neuman has procured a vial of compound V and intends to use it on you. she can't always be there to protect you.

warnings: drug coercion, hurt/comfort, graphic descriptions of bodily harm, murder, violence, blood, reader turned supe, body horror, neuman is not a good person (but we still love her), mentions of politics, general ‘The Boys’ show disclaimer, also NO SMUT (rip)

before you read: Reader is aware of Vic's blood powers. NOT aware of Vic's head explosions (ex. congress attack), relationship to Stan Edgar, The Boys (especially Hughie being involved). Sameer and Zoe do not exist in any of my AUs. Reader has been in life-threatening situations before, not a fan of them, but has been in at least two before.

Tensions are rising across the country, the world is getting more dangerous by the minute. There has already been two attempts on Victoria's life, she's made certain you are unaware of this; she's made certain you know nothing of Butcher and his "Boys". The risk of you being hurt because is far too high.

She promises she will make your relationship public after the election, but she's lying. If the world finds out about you, you're dead. Homelander, Butcher, Stan Edgar... they all have the power to kill you, they just need to see the big shiny target on your back first.

-

The hotel room you are staying at is lavish, it makes you feel like a celebrity — which is appreciated when you're really just the Vice President elect's paramour. In reality, you know you're more than that, but being sealed in this room doesn't make you feel like it. You're lying on the bed staring up at the ceiling, listening to a TV reporter cover the election in the background. You pull out your phone and check the voting map, it's more of the same. You groan and roll over, longingly awaiting Victoria's return. The monotonous voice of the reporter lulls you to sleep, only for you to be awoken shortly afterwards by Victoria’s gentle voice.

"I know I was gone longer than I said I would be," she closes the door behind her and sits next to you on the bed, "C'mere."

Victoria motions for you to lay your head in her lap and you oblige. She plays with your hair and stares at the television. Her silence causes you to turn on your back to get a better look at her face. Though her gaze is transfixed towards the screen, you notice her mind is elsewhere.

"You okay, honey?" you ask.

Victoria purses her lips and meets your eyes. Her serious expression causes you to sit up straight. Oh shit, she's gonna’ dump me. You shift uncomfortably, preparing for what's to come.

"I won't always be here to protect you. I- ... I can't deal with the thought of you getting hurt when I'm not around… I’m scared something is going to happen to you." Victoria takes your hands in hers, "I need you to do this for me."

She pulls out a capped needle full of blue liquid. You furrow your brows and gawk at her.

"W-Why do I need to... Vic, what is that?" you question.

The unnatural color of the liquid makes you uneasy. The only time you've seen that color is in TV shows about meth. Oh my god, does she want me to do meth? Your eyes widen even more. Why the fuck would she want me to do meth!?

"Compound V," she sets the needle down on the bed next to you. "It... It's what gave me my powers."

Not meth. You let out a sigh of relief, which is quickly replaced by a gasp of concern.

"Why do I need to take that!? What kind of danger am I in?" you yelp.

Victoria remains silent and looks away. You lean towards her, she's crying. Your stomach drops and you can't figure out what to say.

“Please. Just. Take. It." She places her hands on her face in an attempt to self pacify, "You'll be okay. I took it when I was a child and I'm fine. It is literally the only way for me to guarantee your safety, please." Her lip trembles.

You're speechless. She's never begged for anything before, let alone cried for it. You bounce your leg anxiously, working up the courage to do or say something. You grab her hand and pick up the needle.

"Okay. I-I will. I'll do it," you steady your voice, but your hand shakes as she takes the needle.

She sniffles and lets out an exasperated 'Thank you'. When she uncaps the needle you realize how huge it really is. Your breathing becomes more rapid and your whole body starts to tremble. You sit with your legs dangling off the front of the bed and she rolls up your shirt. You take in a deep breath and hold it, tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

"I love you," she presses a kiss into your shoulder as she injects the needle.

The second the blue fluid starts coursing through you, you feel like you should have asked a few more questions. That train of thought is cut off by a scorching pain. It feels like a wildfire is soaring through your veins. You cry out and collapse forward, supporting yourself up onto your elbows. Your whole body jerks from the pain. Victoria kneels down beside you and reaches for your arm, you pull away and stand. You sway unsteadily and stare down at her. Tears flow from her eyes but her face appears quiet, she knew how much this would hurt you. Your mixed emotions guide you to the bed and you throw yourself under the covers. You want to be mad, you want to scream and wail and kick until you see red but pain has sedated your anger. You can do nothing but sob and call for Neuman.

Victoria hurriedly joins you in bed, she pulls you close against her and pets your head. She kisses your forehead and whispers words of comfort. You choke on your cries and bury your face into her neck. You feel like you're dying. You find solace in the fact that it will be in her arms; and anguish in the fact that she will have been the one to kill you. At some point, your body gives out from exhaustion and you lie still.

-

The survival rate in adults injected with Compound V is an unsettling twenty percent. Victoria considered this, of course. She told you everyone in the company needed to submit bloodwork, for “insurance purposes”. It was a shit lie but you blindly followed her words anyway. She sent you to a Vought-owned lab and ran more in-depth tests. Your blood already contained slight traces of V, not enough for powers, but enough to give this new dose something to cling onto. This allows for a far less fatal outcome. She destroyed all evidence of the bloodwork afterwards, there's no need for you to know your own parents doped you as a newborn too. The powers you will gain can't be predicted, but she is satisfied with the guarantee of superhuman durability.

-

You wake up alone. You’re drenched in sweat but the pounding in your skull has ceased. I don’t feel any different? You slowly sit up and look around the room.

“Vic?”

You’re met with silence. You feel a pang of sorrow in your heart but chase away any forming tears. Upon getting up, you notice a water bottle and a small note.

‘ I swear I will make this up to you, I’ll be back as soon as a I can. I love you.

(If you feel up to it — counting is expected to wrap around 11, there’s an open bar!) ‘

You chug the water and drop the bottle letting bounce on the floor. You’re pissed at Vic. How much could she possibly care about my safety when she’s fully willing to abandoned my unconscious body… in a locked… fancy… You groan, she didn’t exactly leave you to the wolves but you’re feeling are still hurt. You trudge towards the bathroom, needing to wash off this whole event.

Thankfully, the shower makes you feel like a person again. You wipe the steam from the mirror and examine yourself — nothing seems different? You shrug and pat yourself dry. You find the oversized t-shirt you wore as pajamas last night and throw it on. Victoria’s red lipstick rests on the counter, it’s as sleek and polished as she is. The thought of her makes you smile, you are so quick to forgive. You pick it up to examine it but the sound of voices outside the door makes you stop abruptly.

Cautiously, you crack the door and call out for Victoria. It slams open and you’re met with two CIA agents, they stare down at you. You try to back up, but the taller man grabs your wrist and throws you into the center of the room.

Your body crashes into the floor, as you rise you notice two more people in the room; they’re hiding behind the kitchen island, a black-haired male and female in suits they appear uncomfortable in. Your attentions reverts back to your current attackers. The man who grabbed you squats in front of you.

"Care to explain what you're doing in Ms. Neuman's room?" he asks as the other man encroaches.

You remain silent and try to see what the two behind the island are trying to accomplish. A hard smack from the squatted man draws your attention back to the front. You still don't respond. He huffs and motions to his partner, who begins to draw his gun. You scramble back towards the wall, you can hear your heart beating and feel the hair on the back of your neck rise. An animalistic nature seems to be taking hold of you, all of your senses are on edge and there is a primal hunger creeping its way out of you. The click of the gun sets you off. You launch yourself off the wall and throw the armed man to the ground.

-

From behind the counter, Frenchie and Kimiko are left with their mouths agape. The harmony of feral growls and screams causes them to peer from behind the counter. They see you hunched over one of the guards covered in blood, the guards torso is torn open, rank viscera is splattered across the room. You spit out a chunk of red flesh and your eyes target the other agent. Frenchie reaches for his in-ear walkie and calls for Hughie. Kimiko watches as the remaining agent unloads his firearm into your body. Unflinching, you continue your stalk towards him.

"Hughie! It seems like Neuman has turned your little friend into some kind of junkyard mutt- SHIT!" Frenchie and Kimiko duck behind the island as a severed arm comes flying towards them. Frenchie speaks in a hushed shout, "Your time to shine, Mon ami!

-

The remaining agent is left in pieces, several of which have ended up in completely different areas. The room is quiet, aside from your panting and the shuffling in the kitchen. You stare down at your hands; they're covered in blood and you notice your nails have grown much longer and sharper. Though the room has filled with the stench of iron, you can still pick up the scent of your two intruders. You attempt to move towards them, but the lack of an immediate threat to your life (and possibly the several bullets you took) causes your adrenaline to drop - you collapse onto the floor. The pain of being thrown, beat, and shot catches up to you. You whine and dig into your wounds, trying to claw out the searing bullets. The duo stand from behind the counter and the man shouts to you.

"I would not to that if I was you!" He raises his hands out and steps towards you. You stare daggers back at the man.

Before you can shout whatever obscenities were slowly developing in your clouded mind, the door flies open. Hughie Campbell pauses in the doorway and takes in the scene around him.

"Jesus Christ..." he mutters.

"I told you, Victoria has fucked her!" Frenchie ushers Kimiko out the door and quickly follows, "Deal with this how you want, we must get back to the task at hand."

Hughie makes his way towards you and freezes when you look up at him, you are sitting on the floor like a wounded dog, blind from fear. Your eyes are completely black, your teeth resemble that of a well-fed wolf, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood. Hughie cautiously kneels down next to you and places his hand on your shoulder. He calls your name and directs your attention to his face. Slowly, you recognize the man in front of you and steady your breathing. He watches your eyes return to normal, the black slowly pooling itself into your dilated pupil.

"Hughie..." your voice is a whisper, "I-".

You finally take in the devastation around you, which stretches floor to ceiling, window to wall. The reality of the situation hits you and you burst into tears. Hughie hesitates before placing his other hand on your opposite shoulder and sighing.

"I can't believe she dragged you into this. I… I'm sorry."

"Oh my god- Hughie! I'm going to fucking prison," you whimper, "Oh fuck-“

You push away from Hughie and try to steady your breath. He backs off and stands.

"I'm actually fairly confident that won't happen," he gazes down and his face flushes red.

He turns away and offers his hand out to you, "L-Lets get you out of here, and get some pants on."

You clutch his hand and rise up, pulling the t-shirt down over yourself. He opens the drawers of the hotel's dresser and stops once he finds one with something in it. He holds out a pair of boxers, several sizes too big and extremely gaudy. You make a face and he tosses them towards you and turns around.

"They're better than nothing, okay? Everything else is fucking drenched in CIA agent…" he reasons.

He grabs a sheet from the bed and wraps it around you before heading out the door. You make your way to a utility van parked behind the hotel. Hughie slides open the door and you're met with a bearded man pointing a gun at you.

"JESUS! Butcher put that away!" Hughie bends over and catches his breath.

"No way that one is getting in here," his pistol remains focused on you, "Last thing we need is Neuman storming in here and popping all our heads."

Hughie starts to protest and Butcher cocks back the hammer. You place a hand on Hughie's chest and feed him a forced smile.

"It's okay, Hughie," you assure as you pull him into a hug. “Thank you, for getting me out of there,” you feel the barrel of Butcher's gun pressed against your temple. Your breath hitches and you pull away. Hughie hops into the van and it screeches away.

You are left alone in the parking lot and limp to a nearby alleyway. You hop around shards of broken glass and find an abandoned milk crate, you'll catch your breath here and then figure out a game plan. You sit yourself down and hear small clinking noises near the ground of the milk crate. The bullets previously lodged in you are being spit out of your skin, the craters they once resided in have filled themselves and you notice you're in a lot less pain. A sigh of relief falls from your lips and you shed the sheet wrapped around your shoulders. You feel a small prick in your neck and move your hand towards the pain, a needle resides in the crook of your neck, before you can turn around you go limp.

In your last moments of alertness, you read the lettering on the van you're being pulled in to.

'VOUGHT INTERNATIONAL'

Fuck.

|

authors note: part two is basically wrote in my mind already i just need to type it out <3 thanks for reading, after this next chapter im going to write for Maeve for a little bit and then possibly release a blank slate smut fic.. who’s to say really

[tip jar]

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member acts in an action drama with a twist (protective unnies incoming!)

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys so I can make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that the anonwho gave me this idea on Tumblr likes it!

The request: Heyy if it's okay i want to request where y/n got an offer to play in an action drama. Everyone knows that's an action drama, but in the middle of the drama y/n gets a romantic scene (kissing scene). How the unnies reacted to their babygirl doing that scene? Thank you^⁠_⁠^

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

Y/N had always dreamed of becoming an actress, and when she received an offer to play the lead role in a highly anticipated action drama, she was over the moon with excitement. The drama was set to be a blockbuster, with a gripping storyline and intense action sequences. The maknae was thrilled to be part of it, and she threw herself into her role with determination and enthusiasm.

As the drama progressed, TWICE's little star knew she was in for a challenging experience. The action scenes were physically demanding, and she spent hours training to perform her stunts and fight sequences flawlessly. Her fellow cast members, as well as the production team, were impressed by her dedication and work ethic.

However, little did Y/N know that her role in the drama was about to take an unexpected turn. In the middle of the production, the script for an upcoming episode was revealed, and she was shocked to discover that it contained a romantic scene... a passionate kiss between her character and the male lead. TWICE's youngest hadn't been prepared for this, and the sudden revelation left her feeling anxious and apprehensive.

She confided in her fellow TWICE unnies about the unexpected turn of events. Sana, known for her playful and mischievous nature, couldn't help but tease her little sister about the kiss scene. 

Sana - Well, well, our babygirl is all grown up now. 

Sana said with a grin, earning a playful punch on the arm from Jihyo.

Momo, the group's dance machine and very protective older sister, tried to offer some encouragement. 

Momo - Don't worry, darling. You're a talented actress, and you'll do great in the scene. Just remember it's all part of your character's story. *kisses Y/N's forehead*

Nayeon, the eldest member of TWICE and Mom number 2, took on a more protective role, her maternal instincts kicking in. 

Nayeon - We'll be there for you, sweetheart, no matter what. If you're uncomfortable with it, you can talk to the production team. Your comfort and well-being are the most important. *smiles*

Y/N appreciated her unnies' support and took their words to heart. When the time came to film the romantic scene, she gave it her all, but the experience was nerve-wracking. The male lead, a seasoned actor, was professional and supportive, but the pressure of the situation weighed heavily on Y/N.

The drama episode featuring the unexpected kiss scene finally aired, and it sent shockwaves through both the audience and Y/N's fellow TWICE sisters. The fans couldn't stop talking about it, and they flooded the group's social media accounts with questions and comments about the scene.

Nayeon, Jihyo, Momo, and Sana had decided to watch the episode together to support their girl. They gathered in their dorm, snacks in hand, and huddled around the TV. As the romantic scene played out on the screen, they couldn't help but exchange uncomfortable glances.

Nayeon's eyes widened, and she covered her mouth in shock. 

Nayeon - I can't believe they made our babygirl do that scene!

Jihyo, always the leader, tried to keep a straight face but couldn't hide her discomfort. 

Jihyo - It's just acting, right?

Momo cringed at the on-screen kiss.

Momo - Never again. I can't watch this. *muttering*

Sana, who had initially teased her dongsang, was now feeling protective. 

Sana - Our Y/N deserves better than this.

The drama episode ended, and the members were left in a state of disbelief. They had never expected to see their sunshine in such a situation, and it was clear that they were deeply uncomfortable with the romantic scene. The fans, however, couldn't get enough of it and kept asking for the members' opinions.

In response to the fans' requests, TWICE decided to do a live video, where they would watch the episode again and share their reactions. The members were hesitant, but they knew it was an opportunity to address the fans directly and provide their perspective on the situation.

As they settled in front of the camera for the live video, Nayeon took a deep breath and began speaking. 

Nayeon - Hello, ONCE. We know you've been asking for our opinions on our child's drama. We just want to say that we support Y/N in everything she does, but we were definitely surprised by the romantic scene.

Jihyo - Yes, it was unexpected for us. But our girl is a talented actress, and we know she's doing her best in her role. *nodding*

Momo - It's just that we're her family, and it was strange to see her in such a situation. We'll support her no matter what, of course.

Sana - We just hope that our little sister's future projects will be more comfortable for her and for us.

The members decided to watch the episode again, this time with their reactions recorded live. As the romantic scene played out, they couldn't help but cringe and squirm in their seats. Nayeon and Jihyo exchanged knowing glances, Momo covered her eyes, and Sana shook her head in disbelief.

When the episode finally ended, the members let out a collective sigh of relief. Nayeon summed up their feelings by saying: 

We love our maknae, and we'll always support her. But as for watching this kind of scene again, I think we'll have to say never again.

Their live video was a hit among fans, and it didn't take long for memes and fan art to circulate online, capturing their humorous and protective reactions. TWICE's unique bond with their babygirl Y/N and their frank live video had endeared them even more to their fans, who appreciated their genuine and caring nature.

While Y/N's unexpected romantic scene had taken them by surprise, the members of TWICE would continue to be there for her, offering their unwavering support and love as her fellow actresses and, most importantly, as her family.

And as the youngest saw all of this, she had only one thought:

I love my dear older sisters.

A/N: I'm sorry for any errors. English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there is something wrong, thank you for reading <3

[sixofpomegranates]

☠︎ Scared, Princess? ☠︎

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Popular!Fem!Reader

Word count: 20K (Yeah, idk either.)

Summary: The Princess of Hawkins High and I hate each other, always have, but I think there is more to her... Is the Princess actually just another bullied kid who found a disguise out of her misery?

A/N: Listen, I had this joke with a Furby I really wanted to use. I tried it with a care bear and other toys to have it for the ’80s, but it wasn't nearly as funny. So: pretend turbines already exist, or make it modern!au or just ignore logistics and enjoy the joke.

CW: Fluff, Comfort, Angst, Smut 18+ | Enemies to Lovers | No use of y/n | Mentions of Past Bullying/Suicidal Thoughts/Pressure to have Sex/Loss of Virginity/Fake Friends (Reader), Neglectful Parents (Reader/Eddie), Alcohol Consumption/House Party, Fast Food Consumption, Popular Kids Being Jerks, False Accusation of SA/Incest (Eddie), !Reader being lifted up! – Smut ~ Penetrative Sex (Creampie, Unprotected, Rough, Semi-Public, Mirror Sex), mild Fear Play, Fingering, Oral (M&F), Thigh Riding, Hair Pulling, Cockwarming, Praise/Degradation, Breathplay, Spanking, mild Dom/Sub undertones, Aftercare

☠︎ The Freak's POV ☠︎

The Princess of Hawkins High. The flawless little cheerleader ranking in the social hierarchy of high school right under all sides loved Chrissy Cunningham, the Queen.

I love to tease her, push her buttons, and make her face turn into the cute little frown wherever I can. Her nose twitches when she gets angry; I wonder if she knows...

I wouldn't say I hate her, but I certainly feel irritated by her.

Always surrounded by the most popular jerks, the princess seems to constantly seek their approval. She has done so ever since her first day of school in this hell hole a year ago.

She – in fact – might be nothing other than a little puppy expecting treats for being a good girl—a preppy little puppy whose happy little smiles sometimes even tempt me to pat her.

But the little puppy is also a giant bitch at times. She snaps at me and hisses; she attacks before getting attacked. Coming too close to her would probably have me lose a finger... Maybe even my whole hand.

At the very least, she doesn't bully anyone, even though she has been a quiet bystander multiple times when her friends are busy ruining the lives of others.

She seems uncomfortable whenever she is caught in one of those situations, but she chose those friends and tolerates their shitty behavior. So, she is definitely not earning brownie points for it.

Not in my book. No... She deserves the shit I give her; the headaches brewing together storms behind does pretty eyes. I refuse to respect those who lack any respect for others.

As every day this week, there is a commotion outside the Hellfire Club's room... The prop room of the Theater Club.

A play is getting prepared, and therefore the Hellfire Club has to constantly deal with the door opening and closing. Students rush in and grab parts of my carefully arranged dungeon. They talk, they shove, they interrupt.

How is somebody supposed to defeat a clan of crazed cultists when there is that much reality intruding our fantasy?

As the door opens once more, I snap my head in its direction, roaring, "For fucks sake, can't you see that we are busy?"

The princess looks at me, dressed in this unforgiving little cheerleading uniform and a white cardigan. She holds a clipboard angled at her hip, her eyes wide at my angry outburst.

Taking a deep breath, she smiles, "I'm sorry, but as you know: This is the prop room of the Theatre Club. Having the theatre kids come in here and get their props is within their rights."

"This has been going on for a week now," I say, annoyed. "You could just get your shit when we're not in the middle of a campaign."

"Well, I am responsible for the set design and had cheerleading practice until now. So excuse me that I don't care for how convenient it is for you, Munson."

Now that she is mentioning it, she does look like she jumped around to annoying music for the last hours, her hair not perfect, the baby hairs sticking a little to her temples and forehead...

She is silent for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek; then, a devilish grin paints her glossy lips. "You could always just get a real room for your club."

I refuse to look at her any longer. Meanwhile, she's busy telling some smitten boys to carry out one of our tables.

"You know Higgins won't give me one," I mutter under my breath.

I hate it, but plenty of people know that I had to grovel at the principal's feet to ever even have Hellfire considered a real club. We don't get to request. The smartest thing to do is be as quiet as possible before Higgins shuts it down, scared I am sacrificing cats, or goats, or some shit...

The princess hums, uncaring, stepping next to me, "Well, sucks. I need the throne."

Her pink pen points with its end at my chair – my throne. I make myself extra heavy and chuckle, "Absolutely not."

An irritated look spreads on her face. "Get lost, freak; I need it for the play."

"Already gave you my answer," I smile as ill-humored as possible, then focus back on my sheepies, hoping to rekindle the excitement there was before we were interrupted. "Henderson, your turn. The cruel right hand of— Hey! Hey, stop that!"

The annoying princess is shoving her entire weight against my throne, thinking she can tip it enough for me to get out of it. She seems not to realize that I rather faceplant and take the chair with me than give her what she wants.

"Get out of the throne."

I give her a temperate shove that is already enough to make her stumble backwards. I swiftly check if she is okay, then grin at her face. "You can have it and all the other shit your selfish little heart desires when we are done with our campaign."

"But I need it now! I can't wait for your fantasy shit to be done; I have a curfew!"

I shrug, the desperate whine in her voice barely hitting me. "Though luck, princess."

"I'm going to tell on you," she warns me, the little angry vein on her forehead finally showing up.

"Good luck with that."

"I waited for my chance to design this set all year; I won't have you ruin this for me just because of your constant need to be a dick."

"And I won't have you ruin a perfectly good campaign that took me months to prepare just because you think you're entitled to special treatment."

"Eddie," she says again after some more props have been carried out of the room. "I need the throne for King Lear. You can have it back after the play is over."

"Yeah, nah. I'm sitting too comfortably. Like I said, come back when we're done here."

A frustrated groan leaves her throat, and I chuckle, "No need to lose your mind, Ophelia."

"Ophelia is from Hamlet, you uncultured idiot. You, of all people, should know the difference."

"Why? Because I am, too, a king that is losing his mind?"

"No, but because you are repeating Ms. O'Donall's English class for the third time now."

Okay. Ouch. Bitch?

"Eddie, maybe we should just—" I ignore Handerson's call for peace. I am not going to be the first one to back down.

"What's got your panties in a twist today, princess? Did Jason switch back to railing Chrissy again? Is that why you need to bitch at us? Can't handle that you'll always be just his side piece?"

"You're an asshole."

"And you're not intimidating without your shitty friends."

She sighs. "I need to be home by nine. Please get out of the—"

"Why? Is your daddy finally coming to visit you? Would really be a first since your family abandoned you here."

We all know that she lives with her aunt, a woman that is never home. It's the basis of her coolness. She has money, a place all to herself, and nobody can restrict the number of parties she visits.

"Well, at least mine's not doing 15, leaving me to live in a shitty trailer with my hermit uncle."

Jumping up from my chair, I growl, "Be careful what you say, bitch!"

I can take every blow towards me, but Wayne – the only father figure I've ever known – is off limits.

Although she trembles, she lifts her chin at me and snarls, "What are you gonna do, trailer trash? Beat me like your dad beat your mom?"

Without thinking, I close the distance between us, making her yelp and back against the wall. I would never hurt her... Hurt anybody... But I can live with the fact that she's scared that I might.

Being marked as an insane freak is an opportunity to set boundaries. Bullied kids develop all sorts of defense mechanisms and grasp possibilities like these. My defense is playing crazy, an unpredictable freak.

The Princess of Hawkins High looks at me with big eyes. She's barely breathing, shaking like a leaf as I tower over her. But as we both just stare and don't move, our expressions soften, and the wind is gone from our sails.

The air has calmed way too quickly, and the way she looks at me reminds me too much of myself when I'm pretending to be big and scary, although I actually just want to make it out of high school alive, with the least amount of trauma possible.

Jeff's hand on my shoulder suddenly pulls me back, far away from her. For a moment, I could swear she took an instinctive step following me.

Dustin hands her the clipboard that – sometime during our staring – must be slipped through her fingers. He apologizes countless times on my behalf, promising her the throne as soon as possible.

She nods, seeming as lost of a fighting spirit as I am, and then leaves.

"Shit, seriously. It's always the two of you. That'll end in a murder one day," Jeff sighs, patting my shoulder before sitting down.

"Not cool, man," Gareth lectures me. "If she tells Higgins about this, we're in trouble."

I wave him off, sitting back down on my chair. I actually don't feel like playing D&D anymore.

The Princess of Hawkins High... Is she another bullied kid who found a disguise out of her misery?

*****

Not thirty minutes later, I carry the throne into the cafeteria that doubles as the performance hall with the large stage across the entrance.

Nobody's here; the lights are suspiciously dimmed. For a moment, I believe that everybody has already left. Then I notice her sitting on the stage floor, tracing something onto cardboard.

The Princess of Hawkins High kneels there on all fours, butt in the air, completely unaware of my presence. Her headphones on her head and the cardboard beneath her seem to have her resign in another dimension.

My mouth becomes dry, and I lick my lips. This stupid cheerleading uniform has no right to hug her body like that. The heat in my face wanders downstairs when I think just about how good she looks in this position.

I fucking hate Jason Carver.

He plays hot and cold with her, using her and throwing her away to be with cute, innocent Chrissy over and over again.

For a year now, both girls act like it doesn't hurt them. And while I believe that this could be very true for blissfully oblivious Chrissy, the princess accepted her treatment, keeping her title and social status rather than her dignity.

It would be a lot easier for me to hate the Princess of Hawkins High if she weren't so pretty. I truly gather a great amount of self-hatred for this shit. Out of all the people, I want the cheerleader with bully friends, the one that lets Jason Carver – of all guys – use her like a cheap toy because his friends are hers and dictate her social status.

Sitting up and stretching a little, her eyes meet mine, and she yelps, making me scream in reply.

A small heart attack is truly one way to get rid of an uncalled-for boner.

Turning off her walkman, she takes off her headphones. "What do you want?" she asks with enough hostility to freeze hell.

"Brought you the chair," I answer, pointing at the obviously in front of me placed furniture piece.

She mumbles a slight "oh," and walks down the stairs next to the stage.

"Where do you want it?" I ask, lifting the heavy piece of wood.

She points at the corner next to her, and I oblige. My arrival seems to have reminded her of the "curfew" she said she has.

Closing the stage's curtains and the door to its stairs, she grabs her bag and walks outside. I follow her silently. The club has agreed to postpone our campaign.

Outside, she checks her watch, cusses as she knows that past nine, there are no buses, and starts walking.

I call her name, making her turn around.

"Hey, I can drive you," I offer.

I don't like her, but Uncle Wayne has taught me well enough not to let a young girl walk home alone at night.

"So I end up dead in a ditch?" she snarls.

I roll my eyes. "You're going to walk home on the side of the street. I don't need to drive you to have that being the end result."

She shakes her head, walking away. "No thanks."

"My uncle says it's not safe for women, especially not pretty women. The world is full of sickos and perverts."

She turns around again. "That coming from the town's freak is not as impactful as you think it is."

I sigh, throwing my head back for a moment, then say, "Stop being stubborn and get in my van. Nobody has to know I drove you."

"Why would you even care?"

"Because I am the last person to have been with you. I really don't wanna be a murder suspect accused of killing 'the pretty cheerleader with a bright future.'"

"I'd rather walk. Thanks, though." She offers me a smile and then walks away.

Fine.

Fine. Who cares?

Not me!

I hop in my van and drive out of the school's parking lot. I don't need to be nice to her. Let her end up in a ditch—none of my business.

On the other hand, though... I really don't want that to happen. Not only because I'd be suspect number one but also because...

It just doesn't feel right. I'm a freak and asshole for show, but I am a nice guy—not like Jason's bizarre version of nice guy that only ever ends with girls in the back of his car. Wayne would kill me if he knew I let a girl put herself in unnecessary danger, and I wouldn't be able to sleep well tonight, not knowing if she ever got home safe.

I groan, smacking my wheel, annoyed, and turning the van. I drive back to down the street and halt next to the princess.

Rolling down the window, I say, "Get in. C'mon, don't make me beg."

She shakes her head again. "Leave me alone, Munson." Then she puts on her headphones and keeps walking.

Jesus Christ, why is this woman so stubborn?

I turn the car again and, at the slowest tempo possible, drive behind her.

She turns around and looks at me, weirded out.

I shrug at her. "What? You didn't want to get in?!" I exclaim although she doesn't hear me.

Shaking her head again, she continues her way home.

I hit my wheel again, hating that Wayne raised me well. Life would be so much easier if I'd actually be an asshole.

"Oh, Eddie, thank you so much for making sure I get home safe," I mock the princess's voice.

"You're very welcome. But I am just doing the bare minimum," I answer as myself.

"Yes, but it's so sweet of you. Tiny dick Carver would never do this for me."

I chuckle, "I know he wouldn't. And I know it's small; I haven't skipped PE in a while and—" I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I'm fucking losing my mind here..."

An imaginary conversation with the princess, that's how far gone I am. Unbelievable. She wouldn't even stop to check if I were okay should I drive into a tree right next to her. And yet here I am, actually driving at snail's speed behind her to watch out for her.

Ten minutes into this shit, she turns around again. Shaking her head like I am the unreasonable here.

"You could just get into the fucking van!"

Of course, she keeps walking and leaves me to mutter annoyed bullshit to myself.

As we reach her house, she promptly stops, looking for something in the driveway. From behind, I see her shoulders sag.

Wiping around in her face, she turns around for a second, teary eyes glistening in my headlights.

Did... Did she actually expect somebody to be home?

Just as I try to gather the courage to get out of the van, she walks inside her big, lonely house, turning the lights on.

The Princess of Hawkins High. For so many, she is an inspiration, a clear view of what you could be if you'd only were perfect enough, had enough friends, would be loved enough...

But I think I know better. The Princess of Hawkins High is all alone.

*****

♛ The Princess's POV ♛

The Freak of Hawkins High still stands outside my home with his van as I walk into the kitchen and rewind the answering machine.

Aunt Tess had promised to be home today. I'd waited for nothing other all day than to finally hug her again. Especially since she hasn't been home for over three weeks now.

I press play and listen to the calls I missed during my day at school.

"Hey, girly," the voice of my aunt rings in my ears. "So sorry, but I won't make it to Hawkins any time soon. The deal in Japan is a bigger project than I anticipated, and — Just gonna be honest, I forgot to tell you a couple of days ago. I promise I'll be home next month, and I'm gonna make it up to you with a ton of gifts from here, okay? If you need anything, just call, okay? Great, love you."

"Hey, me again, honey. I forgot to tell you, I just put some more money in your account, and there is so much on it; I am starting to feel like you forgot how to shop? How bout you splurge a little? Make me feel less bad for not being home. Okay. Gotta go, bye."

My heart sinks, and I would start crying if I hadn't already in the driveway... When I saw that, once again, nobody's there.

I get a glass of water and gulp it down to ignore the way my throat closes up. For a second, I think I hear shuffling in the bushes outside the kitchen window but am distracted by my mom's voice coming from the recorder.

I haven't heard her say my name in a while, so my entire focus goes back to the little electronic on the kitchen counter.

"Hi, sweety. How are you doing? Your dad and I miss you terribly. We're currently in Paris, and I just know you would love it here. Work has been crazy and... Look, baby, that's why I called. I know we promised we'd pick you up and travel through Italy in July, but the firm is expanding so rapidly at the moment, and July will have us in Greece and Turkey, and maybe even China... Thing is, we'll have to cancel that trip, love. I know you were excited about it, but I can't see a way we would manage to push you between our other arrangements. How about I'll send you some extra money, and you'll have a girl's trip with Tess? My treat... Yes? Yes, I just need— Okay. Okay, sweety? I've got to go back to work. We'll talk soon, okay? Love you."

I press my lips together for a moment, then throw my glass against the wall across from me. I watch it shatter and fall to the floor.

Who cares? Not like anybody except me is going to notice that it's missing. I hate how loud I am sobbing by now, but can't seem to stop myself. I'd been really excited to spend time with my parents. I haven't seen them for months, even the last call was weeks ago.

I walk into the living room and drop onto the couch, curling into a ball. It's not like my family doesn't love me. I get everything I wish for, but I'd like to have a hug, maybe even a family dinner, instead of a bunch of cold money.

I tried to spend it all, but no matter what I buy, it doesn't help me when I feel alone, falling asleep on the couch, watching movies so that I hear people talk in this house. Being lonely sucks, and I am pathetic.

I don't know how much time passes, but after some squeaking wheels burn rubber outside my house, somebody rings the bell.

My heart thumps in my chest. I'm way too scared since watching Maniac last night. Why am I constantly doing this? I know I get paranoid when watching horror movies.

It doesn't help that I don't know if the freak's still outside. I am so not going to open the door for him. I do not intend to die tonight... Although I am not sure if he would actually do something like that.

Like, he scares me, but I don't feel like I am in danger when he's around. I actually appreciated that he drove me home—kind of.

It rings again, and this time, I get up. I walk to the door and look outside to see Amy, Jessica, and Chrissy standing there.

I didn't intend to have people over, but okay. I open the door, putting on my brave girl face.

"Hi," I greet them.

They look me up and down, each one of them dressed like they belong on the runway or in a music video, anywhere but my home, actually.

"Are you okay?" Chrissy asks quickly, hand rushing to my arm.

I nod. "Yeah. Yes, just my mom and aunt canceling on me again."

Chrissy quickly hugs me as the other two walk in.

Jessica looks around. "You sure there wasn't anything else?"

I shake my head. "No. Like I said—"

"The freak was outside your house," Amy interrupts me. "Creeping through the window."

My face heats up with the terror of what he might've witnessed, what he will use as ammunition against me at our next quarrel.

He has seen me cry; I didn't hide it well enough when disappointment hit me in the driveway. Maybe he wanted to check on me?

No. That isn't Eddie. He probably just been nosey or wanted to prank me by scaring the shit out of me because I stole his throne.

"I— Well, we... He kind of followed me home after I left school," I say, noticing how bad that sounds.

Amy's eyes widen. "Then it's good we threw some rocks at him and told him to fuck off."

"I didn't," Chrissy interferes. "I think that's mean."

"Yeah, but that's just because you wanna fuck him and see if he's living up to his title," Jessica snorts, walking into the kitchen and muttering something about the broken glass.

We follow her as we always do, Amy still going on about how a couple of girls had taken Eddie for "a test ride" before.

"You guys know how I feel about premarital sex," Chrissy squeaks, red as a tomato.

Jessica cackles, "Yeah, that's why Jason has to rail your friends instead."

We're all silent for a second. Shame floods over me like a bucket of cold water. The rumors and badmouthing will haunt me for a long time, but not as much as the guilt I feel toward Chrissy.

Jason can be very convincing, and I am apparently pretty dumb. I know he's not going to leave my friend any time soon, that I am just "his side piece," like Eddie said, but I always let myself be talked into sleeping with him...

I don't think I would even wanna date him. I just don't want to get on Jason's bad side, don't wanna lose my friends, as they were his first before mine and will stay his when the question arises.

Chrissy always forgives him, saying that he can't help himself and just is insecure and uncertain about their love, but actually, he's an asshole. And I am probably no bit better.

"Jason loves me," Chrissy insists, looking at me for support, although she knows he fucks me when he's bored of sharing a milkshake with two straws and "going steady" by holding hands.

I nod, not wanting to pop her bubble of ignorance. Guys like him never change.

"Anyway," Amy claps her hands, sitting down on the barstool. "Get ready. We'll wait."

"What?" I ask, confused. "Ready for what?"

"Tammy Thompson's party?" Jessica frowns. "God, how can you forget a party like that? We talked all of last week about it."

"Sorry. I forgot."

"You gotta be really stupid to forget this. Like, I knew you're not bright, but this..."

"Doesn't matter, right?" Chrissy de-escalates the moment, grabbing a broom and cleaning away the shards on the floor. "Just go get ready, kay?"

I hurry upstairs before Jessica can go on about me being stupid. She enjoys that I should've graduated a year before them... In another school, another life. It makes her feel superior.

I take a quick shower, do what's necessary to my hair, and apply makeup. When I walk into my bedroom, I hear gossiping downstairs and try to ignore it, too scared that it might be about me.

I put on a summer dress and matching shoes and head downstairs.

Amy and Jessica are currently listening to the voicemail left by my mom. Chrissy stands next to them, looking uncomfortable.

They are laughing, and I hate that it doesn't surprise me. I hate that I know this invasion of my privacy and the mocking are a price I am willing to pay to continue being their friend.

Looking at me, they stop their laughs and turn off the tape. They compliment my clothes and call me pretty like they didn't just revel in how pitiful I am.

And I thank them and compliment them back because that's what I do; that's how I continue to belong.

*****

I hate parties. They are nothing like in the movies. My friends don't drink or dance with me, giggle with me about nonsense...

No, we sit here on the couches with a couple of basketball players (unless they get up to help each other chug an entire can of beer or do a keg stand) and talk shit about people we don't really know.

Oh my God, have you seen this girl's perm? Kill me now.

Is she colorblind, or why did she think that color combo was a good idea?

Look at that nerd. Who invites losers like that? Why did he even show up? As if anyone wants his ass here.

"Fuck, there's the freak again," Amy's voice makes my head shoot up from my red plastic cup filled with... I guess beer and some sweet soda, but what do I know?

And true, there he stands. A can of beer in his hand, talking to Steve Harrington, a lazy smile on his face as he nudges the girl next to Harrington... Robin. That's her name. She's a girl from the marching band. She's nice.

I didn't know they were friends.

"How the mighty have fallen," Patrick says. "Back in the day, Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, King of Hawkins High, would've never been seen with the dealing freak."

I keep staring until Eddie looks in our direction, his brown eyes meeting mine. He's so pretty when he smiles and isn't frowning at me. I promptly focus back on the cup in my hands.

Jessica, who seems to have seen it, grins. "Now don't be scared," she tells me, looking at our jock friends and telling them, "The freak followed her home today and was staring through her window when we came to pick her up."

Disgusted outcries leave the guys in our group, and in an instant, Jason reaches over Chrissy, resting his hand way too high on my thigh.

"Are you okay?" he asks, squeezing the meat of my thigh. "You should start letting me drive you home for safety. You never know what's going on in that creep's sick mind."

I move my thigh a little, but Jason's hand doesn't leave me. Instead, his fingers start playing with the hem of my dress.

"I'm okay," I mumble, clearing my throat before repeating myself and sitting up more straight. While doing so, I act as though I have to correct the placement of my dress's skirt, shoving Jason's hand away.

As uncomfortable as I am around Eddie, at least he wouldn't expect me to "make him happy" in the back of his van with him for driving me home.

I know it's a big assumption, especially since I am terrified of the freak, but if that were his only motive today, he would've driven home and not followed behind me to make sure I was okay.

"You know what you should do?" Jessica says, delighted. "You should confront Munson about the stalking. Throw your beer into his face. A little embarrassment would probably humble that loser."

Amy nods. "Yeah, put him back in his place."

I shake my head—no chance I would do something like that. It's unnecessary drama, and I don't even like confrontation. It makes me shake and shiver.

"Come on," Chance laughs. "Don't be a sourpuss. We like you better when you're a sweet one."

He and Andy high-five each other, then turn to me. "Ideally, you could also throw in something about him being his uncle's bitch."

I scrunch up my face in disgust. "I am not doing that," I hiss. "That's disgusting."

Andy shrugs. "I'm just stating the obvious. None of those freaks can pull any, and Eddie looks like a pussy anyway."

"You're sick," I tell him, biting back the urge to vomit and hate myself for hanging around with people like this. People who get a thrill out of pushing others with obscene rumors and made-up bullshit.

Amy shrugs at me. "C'mon, now you're overreacting. We're just saying that because it'll hurt him. It's like when we were ten and told everyone his mommy's a hooker."

I shake my head, putting my drink on the coffee table. "That's so wrong."

"Why would it be wrong?" Jessica asks me. "It's his own fault for choosing to be such a loser."

It's your own fault for being such a loser.

I struggle to breathe as I suppress all the memories of coming home and bawling my eyes out. Of bloody, scraped-up knees from being pushed. Of my mother telling my dad I should just start fighting back so I'd be left alone.

Starting somewhere new doesn't erase the scars of the past.

Fighting back has never worked. It only made things worse. To conform oneself is the only way to survive.

I stand up promptly, ignoring the ongoing conversation.

"Where are you going?" Chrissy asks sweetly, holding hands with her boyfriend.

"Gonna get a new drink. That one's stale," I tell her with a fake smile and hurry outside.

The yard is thankfully empty for most parts. Some couples are making out while a couple of guys play beer pong, but nobody bothers to even look at me as I grab a cold beer from the cooling box filled with ice.

I press a hand, cold from the ice, against my neck to ease the tension.

Why am I doing this to myself?

It constantly keeps getting more challenging to look in the mirror, given the company I keep. But I don't know if I will survive starting right back where I started a year ago.

I wanna take a sip of my beer, but surprise, surprise, it's still closed, the cap laughing at me. I look around for a bottle opener, but it wouldn't be my luck if I would find one.

Suddenly the bottle is taken from my hands, and I look up to Eddie, who, without trouble, removes the cap with the plastic bottom of his lighter.

I stare at him in amazement. That was so cool. I have no idea how he did that without breaking something, but it's so impressive. And useful.

He hands me the bottle back. "Thank you," I say quickly, taking a sip.

Eddie stands there for a while, and I lean down, fishing a second beer out of the cooler and handing it to him. That's probably the only reason he's still here.

He takes it which a surprised expression, muttering, "Thanks."

Then he opens the beer again with his lighter and chuckles at my staring. "I can open these with my teeth—now that would really blow your mind. But last time, I chipped a tooth and had to promise my uncle I'd stop doing it."

"It's really cool," I mumble, mentally preparing for another blow from him.

But he just grabs another beer and hands it to me. I take it confused, and once he holds his lighter in my direction, I know what's going on.

I quickly shake my head. "I– No. I– I can't do that."

He cocks his head. "Why not? I'll show you."

"What- What if I break something?"

"Yeah, because nobody in the history of house parties has ever broken something—especially not beer bottles or a lighter."

He tries handing me the lighter again. "C'mon, princess. If something breaks, I'll take the blame."

I put my beer aside. I grab the lighter and look at Eddie, in each hand one of the needed items.

"Hold the bottle by its neck," he tells me, demonstrating the tight grip on his bottle.

I mimic him, and he nods. "Now, keep your thumb there and fit the edge of the lighter underneath the cap."

I do as he tells me. "And now?"

"Use your fingers as leverage and push the lighter up."

I have to try twice; Eddie encourages me. "A little harder, princess."

And then: Pop. The cap opens.

I opened the beer. With a lighter. This is by far the coolest thing I've ever done. I didn't even break something.

I look at Eddie, pure excitement painting my face.

"That's so cool," I tell him, showing him the opened beer.

He chuckles, grabbing a fresh plastic cup and filling the beer inside. "Good to know you're easy to impress."

"That was not easy," I tell him, and he hands me the red cup.

Giving me two more closed beers, he refuses to take his lighter back. "Go show your new trick to your friends."

"But that's your lighter."

He shrugs. "Got plenty more where that one came from."

I nod, putting it in my bra for safekeeping.

As he quirks his brow, eyes for a second gliding over my cleavage, I explain, "I don't have pockets."

Taking a sip from his beer, he looks away for a moment, nodding. "Well, uhm, maybe we'll see each other later? Like, when you get another beer, maybe?"

My heartbeat rises to a threatening level again. I nod, embarrassed, terrified, giddy, excited. "Y–Yeah, sure, maybe."

I head inside, walking back to my friends, who are all invested in something Jessica tells them.

As I come close enough to hear, it feels like my heart is getting pierced by a harpoon.

Nothing changes. No matter how hard you try, things will always stay the same.

"And after her aunt calls her mommy, telling her they don't even want to see her during summer break. Well, and we come to pick her up, and she cries like she just found out Santa and the Easter Bunny don't exist. It would be sad if it wouldn't be so fucking funny."

The group laughs, except for Chrissy. "Guys, that's mean. She was really upset about it."

"Yeah, because she's a baby. Come on, Chris," Jessica nudges her. "It's not like she's one of us anyway; we just chill with her because she buys expensive shit for us, and nobody's ever home."

"And because she's a good fuck," Andy adds, punching Jason's arm, "A fuck you still have to share, dickhead."

I don't know why I was stupid enough to think they would like me at least a little.

I don't know why I am surprised to find out they were just nice to me for the money.

I intentionally had made myself the selfless, sweet person. I bought them drinks and snacks; I hosted sleepovers and borrowed them money; I bought them the best birthday presents they could've wished for...

I wanted to make it seem to them like loving me was effortless.

"I like her. She's lovely," Chrissy defends me because she genuinely has a heart of gold.

Amy nods. "Yeah, and that's why she fucks your boyfriend."

The group cracks up. Jessica directing the direction of the conversation again. "She has no personality. Seriously, a piece of cardboard has more character. Have you seen her room? It's like a hotel room. So creepy. Total Carrie White behavior."

Taking a deep breath, I don't cry. I can't give them a luck to see me cry. I walk in on their conversation, put the closed beer bottles on the table, and look at them.

Their conversation halted the moment they saw me. Now they look almost a little afraid.

Jessica hums my name, her voice oozing with fake friendliness. "What have you got there?"

"A– Uhm... I," I stammer, then clear my throat.

Just pretend you didn't hear them. Gaslight yourself into blissful obliviousness like Chrissy.

"A trick," I say, wanting to reach for the lighter hidden in my bra.

But I stop.

For a moment, the grip on my filled-to-the-brim cup tightens, and I let my impulsive thoughts win. I walk up to Jessica; she and Amy are sharing the armchair.

"Are we gonna see some girl-on-girl action, ladies?" Patrick whistles; the rest of the jocks are just as enthusiastic about the idea.

She looks up at me, grinning like I am genuinely her friend, and blowing me a flirty kiss.

In a matter of seconds, I dump the cup's contents over Jessica, drowning her fake facade in beer.

She yelps, looking up at me, absolutely furious. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I hand her the empty red cup, saying, "Sorry, my inner Carrie White came through."

The boys who formally were cheering about a wet t-shirt contest are now quiet as well. They know I heard them and have taken offense to it.

We all stare at each other for a few seconds; Amy uses paper tissues to help Jessica soak up the beer. Jessica bitches because of her makeup and dress... Not like I bought it for her anyways.

"We were just joking," Chance says.

"Yeah, let's forget about it. We all drank and thought it was fun," Jason says, hand reaching for my waist as he tries to pull me on his lap. "Come here, baby."

I take a step back, shaking my head. Then I rush upstairs and lock myself in the first bathroom I can find.

Well, not lock...

A couple of seconds after I isolated myself from the party, Eddie enters.

I am washing my hands and trying to calm down, taking deep breaths, so I don't burst into tears or have a panic attack when I fully notice him.

"You okay?" he asks, warm brown eyes scanning me.

I nod, grabbing a neon green, fluffy hand towel to dry my hands. "Peachy."

He continues staring, and I lose my nerves. "What are you doing here?"

"Wanted to check on you."

"Well, you did. I'm okay. Now get out."

It intimidates me to be in such a small room all alone with Eddie. He is terrifying. Terrifyingly loud, terrifyingly handsome, terrifyingly honest.

"What your friends did wasn't okay. They shouldn't have said those things," he tells me calmly, not getting intimidated by my tries to get rid of him.

Good to know that he heard everything. It makes me wonder how many other guests overheard how pathetic I am.

"Well, thank you for stating the obvious. Now get lost," I bark.

"Maybe you should stay away from them. You're only getting used by them, just like Jason's only using you."

I feel tears well up in my eyes as I hiss, "That's none of your fucking business, freak."

Eddie coos my name in the softest way I have ever heard, taking a step closer. "You could do so much better than running after a jock who's only using you for the sex his girlfriend doesn't give him."

Laughing spitefully, I snarl, "Better? Like who? You? Sorry, but the last time I checked, the only pussy you're getting is a quick pity fuck or girls trying to figure out if you're also a freak in bed or if we all just call you that because you're a weird, pathetic loser."

His eyebrows knit together. "Hey, don't be a bitch to me just because you chose to have shitty friends."

"As if your friends are any better."

"They are," he growls at me. "They might not make me seem cool and desirable, but at least they don't talk about me like a little piggy bank or a fucktoy they get to share."

Impulsive thoughts take over again, and I slap Eddie across the face.

I have precisely a second to fear the consequences; then he grabs me by the shoulder and pins me against the cold tile wall.

He manhandled me so roughly that it takes me a second before I can breathe normally again. His arms are now pressed against the wall of each side of me, and I feel fear creeping up on me again.

"What have they done to you that makes you think you constantly have to attack before being attacked, huh?"

I look away from Eddie, hoping he doesn't see my lips shiver or my body tremble. But he grabs my face with his right hand and forces me to look at him.

He seems angry and annoyed, but not necessarily at me. His eyes still lay comforting on my features.

"You can't possibly enjoy being used as Jason's cumdump and having to watch him go back to his perfect girlfriend — the one he actually wants — when he's done with you."

"As if you would treat me any different, freak," I bite out, hoping to hit him right in his hypocritical ego.

For a second, he just looks at me; then his hand no longer grabs my face; instead, his knuckles delicately brush over my cheek.

"You're talking to a guy who fell in love with the first girl using him for her little test ride and needed almost a year to figure out what was going on. Why these pretty girls gave me hopes, seemed like they liked me, let me wine and dine them, but once we had sex, they didn't talk to me again... Pretending I didn't exist.

"I wouldn't treat you like Jason for many, many reasons. I am not an asshole like him; I can't turn off the fact I need to have feelings for the person I fuck; Or that I hate how much I would like you to look at me like you look at that idiot...

"But most importantly, I know exactly how it feels to get used—be a little pawn in the cool kids' game. I'd never project that pain on somebody else just to make myself feel better."

I feel seen, understood, and called out for my past behavior.

Looking away while others were treated by my "friends" like I'd been by my bullies all my life wasn't okay. I knew that. But I had just wanted to be the target no longer.

He thinks I look at Jason with love... God, the freak's a little stupid.

"You don't want me to look at you like I look at Jason," I tell him, avoiding his eyes.

He tilts his head so he can follow my gaze. "Is that so?"

I nod. "I look at Jason like he's somebody who told me he's in love with me and would break up with Chrissy so that I'd lose my virginity to him. And since then, I sleep with him because he calls the shots, and my friends are actually his friends..."

Eddie clenches his jaw. "You're right. Don't want you looking at me like that."

He's so close to me I can smell the cologne on his skin and the cigarettes on his breath. He's terrifyingly handsome.

"I'd rather have you continue to hate me then."

"I don't hate you," I whisper. He's too close to be any louder.

"But you don't like me either," he says, frowning.

"I'm scared of you," I admit, face piping hot with shame. "Y-You see right through me and call people out on their bullshit. I'm scared you'll do that with me, and I won't be able to look in the mirror again."

He doesn't say anything, so I continue to babble like a pretty-dressed fool.

"You're hauntingly pretty. I– I am really scared of what you make me feel because I want to run away from you without a chance to escape."

Eddie smirks during all of that, looking like a wild animal lying in wait for the kill.

His body shifts, now so close I could never escape, even if I'd try. His left leg moves between my thighs while the hand from my cheek now dances around my throat, ending any need for a necklace.

I look up at him. As he applies the tiniest bit of pressure to my throat, I whimper. I feel like I should run, my body tells me to flee. I tremble badly, eyes already teary as I feel myself become excited. I quickly look away.

I am excited. I am aroused, wet. Eddie does this to me with his presence. My fear of him arouses me.

My fear and the thought that he wouldn't actually hurt me... But very well could.

It feels so wrong that I whimper again, hips bucking and my sensitive clit rubbing against his thigh. I whimper again, that level of arousal unknown to me.

I look up at him again. He'd never looked away; he had studied my behavior, the rollercoaster of emotions I am currently going through.

My hands run up and down his chest, fumbling with his jeans vest, leather jacket, and the soft shirt beneath. There is no question I'd claw myself into his skin if he'd try to move away.

I buck my hips again, now shamelessly using the friction.

His head dips lower again, his warm breath spreading on my skin. "Scared, princess?" he asks.

I nod, lust drunken. "Terrified."

Then he kisses me, smiles just seconds before our lips collide.

I moan into the kiss, Eddie not needing any more confirmation that I am enjoying this.

His hands grab my hips, starting to control the way I am rocking on his thigh. His hips start rocking into me, and I can feel his clothed erection pressing against me.

My hands wander into his messy curls, his lips leaving my mouth and moving down to my neck. I moan loudly as he begins to suck at the delicate skin of my throat.

The suction hurts, causing electric shocks to strike straight between my legs. Eddie's mouth releases me with a pop, his warm, wet tongue licking over the angry spot apologetically.

He pecks my lips, a boyish grin on his lips. "Your beautiful," he tells me, pupils so blown I believe his eyes to me nothing but black marbles.

I whimper in reply, my entire focus lying on the tightening inside me and how good the harsh material of his ripped jeans feels against my clothed pussy.

Suddenly he removes his legs from me, holding my hips in place so I can't follow him.

Annoyed noises leave my mouth, but he just smiles at me. "I know, sweetheart, but you're making a mess on my leg. We can't have that, now, can we?"

I quickly shake my head; the bathroom just lit enough to have me see the wet patch I left on his thigh. Reason tells me I should be embarrassed, but Eddie looks at me so proudly I can only think of chasing the high it gives me.

A hand leaves my hips, and Eddie uses it to palm his bulge, seeming to hope it'll relieve him of some pressure.

Our eyes meet, and he grins, "Wanna show me how much of a slut you can be? How good you can behave?"

I quickly nod, following the push of his hand, and sink to my knees. I quickly run my hands over his thighs while he unbuckles his belt and opens his jeans.

I try to reach for his boxers, already licking my lips, but Eddie swats my hand away, the slap burning on my skin.

"Don't be a greedy whore," he warns me.

I quickly nod, eyes unable to stay directed at Eddie's face as he finally untucks himself. His thick cock is painted with rough veins, the pink, leaking tip making me want to forget any formerly given commands.

"Now, what did I say?" he warns me, hand reaching into my hair and making a makeshift ponytail out of it.

"You've done that before?" he asks, and I shake my head. "We don't have to."

I look up at him, pleading, "Please. Want to."

A low chuckle leaves him. "Now that's just pathetic, baby." Still, he uses his grip on my hair to pull me nearer his pulsing cock.

As my lips barely touch him, he coos, "Don't be shy; give it a kiss."

I do as he says, kissing his tip and coating my lips with his salty precum. He looks so pleased as I lick my lips; I instantly kiss his cock again.

"Good girl," he whispers, guiding me to take him into my mouth. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you, princess."

At the same moment, he tucks harsher on my hair, the feeling making me moan onto his cock. "Not any more than you want me to, at least," he chuckles, seemingly having hurt me unintentionally.

As I am comfortable with this new position, have gotten the hang of it, I try taking him deeper. He's long; I don't expect to be able and take all of him; he doesn't seem to expect it either.

But I give it my best. Eddie's hand is guiding my bopping head, grunts and praises leaving him. I almost choke, only the breathing through my nose hindering me from gagging, but I take all of him, the curly, dark pubic hair at his base, tickling my nose.

Our eyes meet as I hold him in the back of my throat, and a guttural moan escapes him. His fist hits the tile wall behind me, the loud sound making me jump and pull away from his cock.

We stare at each other for a second, a string of saliva still connecting us. Then we grin like misbehaving children.

Eddie takes a step back and pulls me to my feet. Gripping my hair again, he yanks my head back, exposing my throat. His tongue darts out, licking a broad strip up to my lips, following where the string of spit had landed.

He doesn't kiss me; instead, he smiles at me, leaving me waiting for something that never comes.

Spinning me around, Eddie holds my back pressed against his chest while he shoves the soap and small towels from the counter space into the sink. Then he pushes my upper body onto the now empty counter, my hot cheek resting against the cold marble.

I can feel him push up the skirt of my dress, Eddie's coarse hands groping my ass, and then slapping me harshly. I yelp a little, feeling him lean over to check my expression, and then do it again.

I clench my thighs together, not knowing when I will finally feel relief. Another smack comes down, this time on my other cheek. I whimper, hoping for the spanking to be over soon. Not because I don't enjoy it but because I am too riled up to wait any longer.

Thankfully, Eddie seems to have heard my silent prayer. He pulls down my panties, letting them drop to my ankles. I hear the chain on his jeans jingle and then the familiar sound of a condom wrapper.

I reach behind me, grabbing Eddie's hand. He leans forward, smiling at me. "It'll just take a moment, sweetheart. Safety first."

He tries, but I don't release his wrist. "I'm on birth control. Just– Just please let me feel you."

Eddie takes a deep breath, then nods. "Are you sure?" I nod so fast I fear dislocating something.

Standing behind me, I feel him glide his cock through my fold a couple of times, coating himself with my arousal. Then he bottoms out in me with one solid thrust.

I moan loudly, pressing my forehead against the marble counter as he stretches me out in ways I thought impossible.

Eddie shortly rests his body on mine, face pressed against my shoulder. His right hand rests next to my head; the left one runs up my thigh and waist. He solely lifts himself from me enough to reach under me and grope my tits.

He growls quietly and kisses my shoulder before he pushes himself up again. His hands glide down my back and come to a hold on my hips.

Eddie pulls me into him several times, experimental thrust having me breathless. Then he sets into a harsh and unforgiving pace.

I am so wet, the room is filled with the most obscene squelches I have ever heard. The high-pitched, already fucked-out moans leaving me surely don't make anything better.

Then, Eddie's hand tangles itself in my hair again. He pulls me up on my hands and forces me to look into the mirror.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby. Watch yourself getting fucked by the freak," he tells me with a hint of resentment.

Watch the man you demonized for so long show you the gates of heaven.

I look at myself, hair a mess, lips puffy, pupils blown. I moan, every thrust coaxing another sound out of me while I feel Eddie so deep in me it makes my eyes try to roll back.

But I focus, I do as he demands, and I watch us. Watch Eddie. How his head falls back as he moans, how his hair sticks to his sweaty forehead, how his hand reaches underneath me, between my legs and starts rubbing my clit.

My insides tighten again; the coil inside me seconds from snapping. My head drops, and I accept the stinging pain that comes with it.

I already pulse around his cock when he stops playing with my clit.

He let's go of my hair as well, the hand now wrapping around my throat and pulling me up. Eddie leans down a little, ensuring I am pressed against his chest.

He's looking over my shoulder. I follow his gaze. Our eyes meet in the mirror.

"Look at that, princess. Fucking terrorized me for a year, running around and being a little bitch, and now you're so desperate for me, you didn't even let me put on a condom."

I whimper, not able to find words.

Eddie chuckles. "No, no. Don't be ashamed. It's good to know that all that was needed to have this raging bitch become a little puppy was to fuck her pussy raw until she sees stars."

"Eddie..."

He leans closer to my ear, never breaking eye contact. "Yeah, that's right, baby. Let the whole house know how badly you want the freak to come in your little pussy."

I'm on the brink of my orgasm when he says, "Fucking look at me when you come. I deserve to be the only thought in your dumb little head when you come on my cock."

And instead of keeping my eyes on his reflection, I turn my face to my right, looking straight at him.

The mirror had been a type of protection; it had kept us from looking directly at each other. We were supposed to hate each other, and maybe we would change our minds when our eyes meet. But I look at him, and all I can think of is how I don't want this moment to end.

He didn't think I'd look directly at him; the look on his face as our eyes collide tells me that... And it tells so much more.

Eddie dips his head lower, the hand from my throat now holding us up while the other cups my cheek.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, kissing me roughly as we melt into each other.

We are moaning into the kiss, my right hand flying up and holding onto his neck, the other trying to dig itself into the marble beneath its palm.

As I come, my knees buckle, and I go limp. Sex has never felt this good, and my body seems wholly to agree, the orgasm almost knocking me out.

Eddie's hand leaves my cheek so his arm can wrap around my waist and hold me up while he keeps thrusting into me. He finally fills me with his hot cum. Forehead pressed against my side, a husky moan leaving his lips.

Carefully, he lowers me onto the counter, my cheek resting on the marble top. We're both panting, and I don't feel like I am fully back on earth again.

Eddie brushes my hair out of my sweaty face, half his weight resting on top of me. He lazily kisses my cheek a couple of times, only stopping when a smile tucks on my lips.

As he stands up, ready to pull out, I grab his hand. He instantly stills in his movements. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere."

I shake my head. "Please. Not yet."

He signed, looking around a little. Then he pulls me up against his chest. With his arm around my waist, he lifts me up, walks over to the closed (and ugly decorated) toilet, and sits down.

Still inside me, his arm spreads my legs apart, hooking them over his own, so I can comfortably sit in his lap.

I am on full display, and I don't know if Eddie locked the door, but I don't care. Because his arm is still around my waist while the other lazily strokes over my naked thigh.

He leaves kisses up and down my neck and shoulder and presses his forehead against my temple. I am wholly satisfied. And the big scary metalhead seems to be too.

"You know," he suddenly speaks into the silence. "Whoever thought that fluffy toilet seat covers are a good idea is a psycho. Feels like I'm sitting on a fucking Furby."

There is a second of silence, then we both burst into laughter, making Eddie add, "The worst part it that that pervert seems to like it, given the way he tickles my balls."

"Jesus, Eddie," I laugh, holding my stomach.

As our laughter finally ceases, he presses another kiss on my shoulder. "Hey, how- how about we ditch this party and go eat a burger instead? My treat."

My heart races again, and I seriously start to question if I know the difference between excitement and fear, but at the same time, I am astounded.

He wants to spend time with me. We just had sex, he'd gotten what he wanted, and he still stayed around.

Jason had never stayed. He took what he wanted and then left.

The pain in my chest and the tears I refuse to cry let me feel just how fucked up the last year has been.

"I– My friends are..." I stammer. I don't know how to collectively call that bunch of bullies and explain how afraid I am to go downstairs again.

Eddie, however, seems to misunderstand my stammering. "Yeah, don't worry. Was a stupid idea anyways." He stands up, making sure I stand on my feet and then pulls out. "I'll go down first; just wait a couple of minutes, then you can join your friends again."

I lean against the marble counter. "Eddie, I didn't–"

He grabs one of the neon-colored hand towels and soaks it in water. While cleaning himself, he sneers, "No worries, princess. Won't tell anyone you took a test ride on the freak."

He's hurt, having built up a wall so promptly that I feel like he believes he never had a chance with me anyway. And now, he hates himself the for having gotten his hopes up.

Eddie tucks himself away, rinsing the towel with some more water before stepping next to me and kneeling down. I whimper and look at the ceiling as he pushes my dress up and begins to clean the mess between my legs.

Given the way I just let him fuck me and then sat there spread out for the world to see with him still inside me, I actually have no right to be this embarrassed right now.

"That's a nice ceiling," I blurt out to distract myself. "The only thing not neon colored or fluffy in this bathroom."

Eddie huff's a small laugh against my thigh but stays quiet as he cleans me of our mixed cum running down the inside of my thigh.

I press the back of my hand against my face, eyes squeezed shut, and just continue my mortified blabbering.

"I'd like to go eat something with you. It's just that I don't think I'll survive the humiliation of going downstairs and facing my friends after I just bathed Jessica in my beer. I am not good at confrontations, and if you don't know a way to get me out of this house by climbing out of a window or something, I believe I have to stay here until the party's over."

I interrupt myself with a whimper as Eddie brushes over my sensitive clit, then grab his hand to avoid him doing that again and look down at him.

I am met with a boyish grin on his pressed-together lips as he tries not to laugh at my short-circuiting brain. He throws the towel into the sink, and while standing up, he pulls my panties back into position.

"Want me to create a distraction? I could lay a fire... Or start a fight with Jason, restoring your honor?"

I giggle, and he leans closer, pressing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Or – if you like it extreme – we could kill two birds with one stone and set Jason on fire."

"You are crazy."

He nods. "The craziest."

"Maybe don't commit murder and get prison time just when I'm about to go out with you."

He chuckles, pecking my lips again. "Yeah, sounds counterproductive."

Eddie spins me around, back pressed against his chest and arms slung around me. I look at our reflection in the mirror. My hair is a mess, my makeup smudged, but Eddie (whose chin is comfortably resting on my shoulder) looks at me like I hung the stars in the night sky for him.

"I look like a mess," I mumbled.

He quickly snaps, "Shut up. You're beautiful."

I lean my head against his when somebody tries to open the door. We quickly jump apart, my anxiety rising as I say, "Occupied."

"Hey, we were looking for you," Amy says through the door.

"I'm fine. Just go away, please."

Eddie's hand brushes over my hair, and we smile at each other for a moment.

I don't need to be afraid.

I don't need to... I still am, though.

"Don't be a bitch and come out so we can talk," Jessica hisses, and I wonder if she's still soaked with beer or only reeks like a distillery.

I'd be oddly satisfied with both.

"There's nothing to talk about. You guys used me and are shitty friends." I look at Eddie, a proud smile on my lips.

I am standing up for myself. I don't need to be their punching bag.

"Everyone uses everyone. That's how life works," Jessica says.

Amy agrees, "You actually should be thankful that we let you to hang out with us; it's not like anybody else would ever want that."

"Yeah," Jessica goes in for the final blow, "If not for your lack of personality and annoying sob stories, then for being the basketball team's mattress. Everybody else would throw you to the curb for being a whore."

That's when Eddie unlocks the door and swings it open, towering over the two girls, growling, "You better fucking take that back."

The two girls look at him, absolutely terrified for a moment, so I step in front of Eddie. My hands are resting against the doorframe as though I could keep Eddie in and protect him from the hate we are about to receive.

"Are you kidding me?" Jessica asks, and I feel my stomach tie itself into knots.

"I– I am..."

"You seriously let the freak fuck you?" Jessica asks, this time so loud I am certain at least some of the other party guests are hearing her.

I nod a little, everything feeling numb as I am back in the position I was in a year ago. I am prey about to be devoured by monsters.

Jessica storms off, her heels loud on the hardwood floor. I look back at Eddie, who looks at me, brows knitted together. I just know he can sense the aura of panic and anxiety surrounding me.

Amy still stands there, looking at me, my disheveled appearance, and then at Eddie. As her gaze meets mine against, she says, "You didn't want it, right?"

I frown. "What?"

She repeats herself calmly. "You didn't want to have sex with Eddie. He forced you."

I feel the metalhead behind me tense up.

Shaking my head, I stammer, "No, we– I–"

But Amy interrupts me. "It's not your fault. That monster just preyed on you all day and attacked the second you were alone. We're on your side; I promise we still love you. Babe, we all know you would never let the freak touch you."

I spiral down the option I have just been given.

Lie. Lie. Lie.

Lie and tell me you were raped.

Lie so we can all pretend that nothing else happened today.

None of your actions will have consequences.

Eddie is an easy scapegoat. Nobody will bet an eye if I wrongly accuse him of assault.

Lie to save your life while ruining Eddie's.

Lie, and we will lie for you.

This goes beyond bullying. It is downright evil and disgusting... And for a moment, I think about it. Think about the get-out-of-prison card I have just been handed.

This is how far some people will go to keep their social status.

Being one of the cool kids is not worth this.

Jessica returns, all our friends with her. She has a big grin on her face, ready to shred me into pieces. This time with audience.

Jason is the first to speak, pushing past Chrissy and taking in the scene before him. The picture of Eddie and I. The mental image of us having sex.

"What happened?" he asks.

Amy is quick to cut off Jessica, nodding first at her and then at me. "Eddie raped her. Right?"

Jason's eyes are on Eddie, fury there that is solely his own righteousness. The rest of the group starts to explode into rage, throwing every possible insult at Eddie.

Jason takes a step towards us, and I make sure not to let him get to Eddie. "He didn't do anything," I say loud enough to make them shut up.

Chrissy pushes past our friends and takes my hand. "But Amy just said–"

I nod, barking, "Yes, because Amy is very sick in her head."

I make sure to look at every single one of my former friends (excluding close-to-tears Chrissy) while saying, "You are awful people. So easy to jump on the bandwagon and ruin somebody's life only because it fits your bully agenda. I am pretty sure that not a single one of you likes the others. You guys are just hanging out because you very well know that you're horrible, and none of you could ever make a single real friend."

They are silent and confused, look at each other and then at me. This felt good. No wonder Eddie is constantly calling people out.

"And you know what?" I ask them, feeling a second wind of courage as I look at Jason. "I just had amazing sex with Eddie. Better than I ever had with your pathetic ass. Also lasted about three times longer. Being fast isn't always a good thing, Jason.

"I hope that one of these days Chrissy finally realizes that she can do so much better than a guy whoring around for his ego, just being with her because she'll make a nice and quiet housewife that'll do his laundry while he bangs Amy and Jessica and has Andy's mom go down on him every Tuesday since her divorce."

All eyes are on me... Well, not really.

Patrick's are on Jason as he had known Patrick was chasing after Jessica for years now.

Andy will probably pass out, vomit, or both at any moment.

Jessica and Amy look at each other and wonder how I knew they, too, fuck Jason while making me out to be the devil for having done it.

Good old Jason is very talkative during sex but sadly very inconsistent with names and the amount of details he gives about other sexual encounters.

And poor Chrissy's are on her boyfriend. It hurts now, but frankly, I think it's better she finds out what kind of man he is now than in ten years when they're married with kids.

Jason, red-faced, takes an angry step toward me, his hand twitching as he raises it. I instantly yelp, "Touch me, and I'll sue your ass so badly you can kiss your scholarship and bright future goodbye."

The jock lowers his hand and looks at his "friends," but I cut into the meat of their lies way too deep.

It's then Eddie wraps an arm around my waist and shuffles us out of the bathroom. I'm not mad at him, as he almost uses me as a human shield to deflect anything that could come from the jocks—it's for the better; they won't hurt me.

As there are a couple of steps between us, Eddie grabs my hand, and we rush down the stairs. It's early quiet. I hadn't noticed that the music was out before. At the middle of the stairs, we see multiple party guests scattered around the living room, staring at us.

Had Jessica planned on letting everyone hear how she and the rest of the bullies chewed me to pieces?

Eddie and I exchange a look and then walk down the stairs like we weren't just about to run off.

"It's not a party when there's no fight, am I right?" Eddie chuckles loudly into the room, looking at Steve Harrington, "Dude? My stuff?"

Steve hands him his lunchbox. "You two okay?"

Eddie beams at Steve, wrapping an arm around me and lifting me a little. "Have you heard her?" he asks proudly. "My girl devoured those jocks."

"Think everyone heard her. You guys should probably take off."

He sets me down on my feet again, and Steve turns to the rest of the party. "Okay, people, now that the entertainment is over, who is ready to party? I think we should make use of that sweet pool outside!"

The former King of Hawkins High has the people wrapped around his finger as he turns the music up and encourages them to follow him outside, quickly waving us goodbye.

Taking my hand in his, Eddie walks to his van with me. Grabbing his keys, he grins, "You wanna get in, or am I walking you to Benny's?" I punch his chest and let him open and close the door for me.

Putting my seatbelt on, I finally feel my adrenaline drop. That situation was terrifying. It's a miracle I didn't start to cry in front of them; the tears are sure as hell coming now.

"Oh my God," I whisper as Eddie gets in. "I can't believe I did that."

His hand moves up to my thigh. "Hey, sweetheart. Everything's okay."

I shake my head. "I just obliterated all the friendships I had."

Eddie is silent for a moment, then sighs. "Okay, you know what you're gonna do? I'll drive you straight home, and you call your friends tomorrow and tell them you were drunk and did some uppers with me."

He pats my thigh before removing his hand. "Trust me, the way their friendships work, they'll never talk about tonight anyway. You'll have a perfect excuse for going off on them, and everything will be as it was."

I look at Eddie, surprised. He doesn't protest. He even helps me come up with an airtight excuse. But I honestly don't think I want them back as friends.

I watch his jaw clench as he stares straight forward. "I– I don't want..."

"It's cool, princess. Not like I expected anything to change between us," he tells me quickly, pained laughter leaving his lips.

I nod. Of course, he didn't. "Oh, okay." I wipe away the tear running down my cheek.

Stupid, stupid. I won't cry because Eddie Munson and I just had a meaningless hookup. I'm not gonna cry because he hasn't just magically fallen in love with me.

Eddie turns the key, and the van comes to life. Loud metal music nearly bursts my eardrums, and we both yelp in shock. He quickly turns it down and looks at me, apologizing, but I am already laughing.

He joins my giggles, hand flying back to rest on my thigh. I quickly wrap my hands around it, making sure he can't move away again.

It takes a moment to collect ourselves and even longer as we just look at the other. He's so pretty.

God, I really don't want to be his enemy again.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, making him tilt his head. "I was a giant bitch to you the entire year. The things I said weren't okay, and the names I called you weren't either."

He looks at me, then checks his watch. "It's a little early for a Christmas miracle, sweetheart."

I nod. Fair, I deserve that. I have made myself as unappealing and lovable to him as possible.

"I was a bitch to you, and you didn't deserve it, Eddie."

He shakes his head. "You weren't a bitch... At least not a big one. A little bitch. But I guess that came with the company you keep. Adapting to avoid being an outcast again has its downsides."

My eyes widen. "H– How...?"

How does he know?

How does he know?

Eddie shrugs. "Instinct. You seem a lot like you're attacking before I can say something. You never really bully but are willing to look away when your friends do it because you wanna stay on their good side. Everything about you, when you're with them, is fake. And when we're alone, you are a completely different person."

He chuckles. "When we're alone, you're a cute little thing that doesn't bitch around or wants to fight me for a chair. You're even scared of me... Like, I know I can seem scary, but come on. I would never hurt you. I'm all bark, no bite. But somebody who's been bullied a ton – know that one first hand – never really counts on it to be over. So we keep our guard up."

"I'm not afraid of you because I think you would hurt me. You call people out on their bullshit, and apparently, you see right through mine... I always feared that one day you be too spot on in front of Jessica and the others, and they learn that I am actually just a loser who befriended them so that I wouldn't be their target."

I wipe the back of my hand over my now-wet cheeks; the other hand still holding Eddie in place. "I am actually a really, really awful person. Just like fucking Jessica. I'm a total hypocrite."

"Hey, don't say that," Eddie coos, but I shake my head

"It's true. I befriended the worst bullies in Hawkins High and sucked up to them so they'd like me, although that's exactly the type of people that made my life so miserable that my parent sent me to live here, thinking bullies don't exist in go-fuck-yourself Hawkins.

"I am pathetic. A fucking joke. I- I literally just got my schedules on my first day here, took a look at what the cool kids were wearing, and then skipped classes to buy clothes that would make me fit in. What kind of loser does that?"

Eddie squeezes my thigh. "A loser that thinks fitting in is the only way for them to survive."

"That's stupid," I bite. "I would've survived even if I hadn't done that."

"Can you promise that? Can you really say that you would've survived if everything would've been like in your old school? If you would've gotten bullied again even after leaving your entire life behind—including your parents? Or would you have hurt yourself?"

I look away from Eddie, tears still running down my cheeks. I wouldn't have survived. I wouldn't have been able to handle all this pain again. Every single day up to moving here had been hell. I'd come home from school and cry for hours.

My parents weren't home enough, so they hadn't even noticed when I started skipping classes just not to be in school; I stayed at home and stopped taking care of myself. I'd been a dead girl walking when they finally decided things needed to change.

"See?" the metalhead next to me says, knuckles coming up to brush my cheek. "Even if it wasn't right, you did it because you thought you had no other option. You just tried to survive with the least amount of damage possible."

"Stop being so understanding," I sob. "Makes me feel even worse."

He nods. "Sure... Okay, then, how dare you, woman? How dare you attack my sweet innocent quirk of rubbing truths into people's faces without them asking for it?"

I giggle, almost choking on my tears. "You're such a dork."

He forcefully has to remove his hand from my thigh so he can cup my face in his large hands, thumbs wiping away my tears.

As he gives me a kiss on the nose, I say, "I don't wanna be their friend again. Wanna..." I stop myself before I can say something stupid like, "I want to stay with you."

"I– I think I have a proposition I'd like to make, princess," Eddie says. "I don't know if you knew, but eight toxic friends are actually the exact trade-in price to get a top-of-the-notch metalhead freak like me. It's even enough to treat yourself to the he-might-even-ask-you-out-if-you-promise-not-to-run-away-screaming bonus."

He removes his hands and gives me room to think. "Now, why would you want that?" I ask, not understanding how he could literally hate himself that much.

Eddie shrugs. "Believe it or not, there are people that actually like you. Also, you chose me today. You were given a one-way out ticket that would've put me in prison right next to my dad, but you chose to protect me instead."

"Everyone would've done that."

"Absolutely not," he shakes his head. "You saw how badly they wanted you to say I assaulted you. Every single one of them would've loved to throw me under the bus like that. So much so that I stopped hooking up with girls because my uncle always feared that could happen.

"One pretty, innocent girl regretting having fucked the freak, looking for a cop-out, is all it would take. There are maybe ten people that would come to my defense in all of Hawkins. The rest would say they knew I would do something like that, that I always was creepy, dangerous, and that it has to do with the satanic music I listen to.

"Maybe you made some bad decisions, but you're a good person, sweetheart. And because you chose me, knowing that it would slaughter your social status, I am more than ready to choose you and keep doing it."

I nod, but before I can answer, he pulls out of the driveway, drives down the road, and adds with a grin, "I also think you're a straight ten, so... I'd be stupid not to at least try to talk you into dating me. Like, she takes my side, she's pretty, laughs at my jokes... My Uncle would say you're a once-in-a-lifetime chance for a loser like me."

"Okay, I–"

Eddie interrupts me, pretending he's deep in thought. "I will, however, have to find a way to explain to the boys how I managed to pull someone like you... Ideally, without the fact that I fuck like a god—there are some little shrimp in Hellfire, so we'll have to keep it PG, baby."

"Eddie?" I giggle, but he continues.

"I will also have to make you the Princess of Hellfire Club. Because I don't think we can keep your former title... But don't worry about that. I have good connections to the King of Hellfire. I'm just gonna roll him a joint and explain to him how cute my girl can be when she isn't trying to design the set of 'Hamlet'—"

"King Lear," I interrupt him.

He nods, a mischievous grin on his lips. "Right. The one with Ophelia."

"I am going to beat you," I warn him, making him giggle because, apparently, he does know the difference and just loves to annoy me.

"Better be nice," he warns jokingly. "I'll have a lot of persuading to do since you stole the King's throne. Won't be easy. He was very pissed about it."

I let him ramble on, not a single doubt in my mind that he is too giddy to actually let me answer. But when my ears pick up on a familiar tune on the cassette that is playing, I quickly turn the volume up.

"Uh, 'Sweet Leave'!"

Eddie looks at me for a second, then back on the road. I have rendered him speechless.

"Sorry," I tell him promptly. "I– That was rude. I shouldn't have touched the radio without asking."

He shakes his head. "No. No, it's fine... I– That's Black Sabbath."

I nod. "Yeah, I know. I like them. My aunt took me to a concert of there's when we were in London in '81. Her ex-husband was really into rock and metal. They had a nasty divorce in which she got all of his vinyls and cassettes because he cheated on her, and she wanted to hit him where it hurt. Most of the stuff is also signed. It's all up in the attic somewhere. I can show you should you want to come over someday–"

Now, hello over-sharing. What the hell was that? I can't remember the last time I rambled that much.

"Sorry," I quickly say, but Eddie's hand moves to my thigh, a pearly white smile on his face.

"No, please, keep going." I look at him, unsure if he's only saying it to be nice, but he insists. "Seriously. Wanna hear more."

"Okay... Uhm, they divorced the spring before I moved here, and my aunt still had the tickets she had bought for his birthday, so she took me to the Monsters of Rock Festival, with ZZ Top, Marillion, Bon Jovi, Ratt, Metallica... It was so cool."

I laugh at the memory. "They only had very big shirts left at the merch booth, so I got a giant one. I actually still sleep in it when nobody comes over."

"Why?"

I bite the inside of my cheek. "I... I hide all my stuff in the basement. My old stuff. Like I said, I really wanted to fit in when I moved here and thought that maybe I was the problem."

"That's why Jessica said you have no personality?"

I nod. "I never decorated my bedroom. There are some polaroids, a scented candle, and my stuffed bear but all in all, it's still the guest bedroom I moved into. Didn't want to give anyone ammunition to bully me."

I hate how pitiful I sound, so vulnerable it scares the shit out of me, but Eddie squeezes my thigh. "But that right now is who you are? Like, listening to that kind of music and being into festivals and concerts?"

"I– I don't know if that's who I am. I definitely like it, but it's not all there is to me," I say. "I like aspects of every music genre, I like traveling, I like horror movies, but also am a sucker for romance novels... Especially the tacky ones with the bare-chested guys on the covers. I also never — not once — was able to keep a plant alive. I just forget they exist and stop taking care of them.

And apparently, I like talking way too much, way too fast. But I never really wanted to talk to somebody that much so it's a good possibility that I just need to get used to liking somebody that much."

Eddie chuckles, teasingly chirping, "Oh, so you like me, huh?" I nod, and he says, "Normally I am the one talking too much, but honestly? I think I like hearing your voice more than my own, so even if you don't stop with those cute little info dumps... I think I'm good."

I giggle, ears heating up and jaw hurting from my smiling. "Now what's that smile for, baby?" he asks, grinning too.

"I don't know. You just... You make me feel..." Giddy? Comfortable? Calm? Excited?

"Horny?" Eddie asks, pulling into the parking lot of Benny's.

"No. I mean, yes, but not right now," I stammer. "I think the feeling right now is happy. You make me happy."

Eddie kills off the engine and looks at me as though I told him he just won the lottery. "Happy, huh?" he breathes, and I nod.

Removing his hand from my thigh, he harshly grabs the stirring wheel with both hands. "I– Uhm. Wow. Okay," he stutters, street lights showing his pink cheeks. "I didn't think– I... That feels really weird. Like somebody opened a shook-up can of soda in my chest. All fizzy and bubbly and that kind of shit."

I frown a little while trying to decode what he just said. "I think normal people call that feeling butterflies," I say. "Like, when your heart starts beating so fast it feels like it's jumping out of your chest."

Eddie nods. "Yeah. That's the feeling." He starts laughing, "Shit. Never had that one before."

"I think I had it for Jason... In the beginning, I mean."

Eddie looks at me like a kicked dog, and I instantly regret having mentioned Jason. Why did I even do that?

Just as I want to apologize for ruining the moment, he says, "He really did you dirty, huh?"

"It's kind of my own fault," I mumble. "I should've known that real life isn't like a shitty teen romance, where the new girl captures the heart of the most beloved jock in school.

I'm so stupid. I had known him for maybe two weeks and actually believed him when he said I was special and that he was in love with me. Let him sweet talk me into having my first time in the backseat of his car, although I wasn't even ready... And the next day, he was still with Chrissy, and he never said 'I love you' again."

Eddie's doe eyes stare at me, glassy with a hint of pain. "I won't do that to you," he promises. "I know that's a very basic promise, but I won't hurt you."

I just nod, staring at my hands in my lap. Don't they all say that? He reaches for my chin and makes me look at him.

"Hey, I'm serious," Eddie insists. "I almost started crying, and my heart did that butterfly soda thing because you said I make you happy. If something good makes me have that strong of a reaction, hurting you will probably kill me."

I shake my head, being too vulnerable for my own liking. "Butterfly Soda is a cute pop band name."

Eddie chuckles at my sentence, then asks, "Can I kiss you?"

I nod, and he brings our lips together so gently, so chaste, I melt into him without hesitation. He could hurt me but trusting that he won't shoots a thrill up and down my spine.

He pulls away, grinning.

"What?"

His smile grows wider. "I bagged the hot cheerleader. And it's not even like I didn't have the hots for you before, but now knowing that you like the same music as me and are also a little bit of a freak..." He snorts a laughter. "Jason's a fucking idiot, and I'm such a lucky bastard."

I, too, laugh a little, making Eddie kiss me again. Then he says, "Okay, princess. What kind of burger do you want? I'm gonna get the food and then drive us home."

"To my place?"

"If you're okay with it?"

I quickly nod. "Yeah, totally. I- Uhm, I want a cheeseburger with bacon. No tomato, I won't eat it if there's a tomato in it. Like, seriously."

"Tomato in burger equals death. Got it. Fries and a milkshake?"

"Yes, and yes."

"Let me guess, strawberry?"

I gasp, appalled. "How dare you?"

"Chocolate?" he guesses again.

"Vanilla. Vanilla and nothing else in the world. Strawberry. Do I look like a strawberry girl to you?"

Eddie giggles, "Well, to be fair, you also didn't look like an insane person to me a few minutes ago."

"Let me guess, Munson, you like chocolate?"

He nods, "And strawberry and vanilla. Can't do wrong with me. It's a milkshake; I drink it. But I only dip my fries into chocolate shakes."

I blink at him. "You dip your fries into your milkshake."

"Yeah, the sweet and the salty balance each other out."

"You have a real nerve calling me an insane person," I laugh, reaching into my bra and handing him my credit card. "Here, your disgusting eating habits on me."

Eddie's smile vanishes, and he shakes his head. "Nah, keep it, sweetheart. Told you it's on me."

"It's okay. I have too much money anyway. My aunt is actually getting worried if I don't start spending it," I assure him, but he shakes his curly head again.

"Sweet thing, even if I'd accept you paying for it, they won't let me pay with a card that has somebody else name on it."

"But I'm giving you my okay. Chrissy used it too one time, and nobody cared."

Eddie frowns, and he stares out the windscreen for a moment. "It's not your card that is the problem. It's me. You won't find any place in Hawkins that will let a Munson pay with somebody else's credit card. My old man made sure of that."

"Oh," I mumble, watching how his face is drowning in shame. I'd known his dad was in prison and had used it for ammunition in fights before but, honestly, hadn't thought that the town was treading Eddie as if he was solely his father's son. Doomed to repeat his mistakes.

"Yeah. They'd probably call the cops without thinking twice, and that would end our cute little date in a heartbeat."

"Kay," I say, unbuckling my seatbelt. "I'm going in with you." Eddie looks at me, confused. "If I'm in there with you, they know you didn't steal my card."

"You know that means you're going to be seen with me, right?"

"You gave a whole speech about how I'm now your girl and what we're going to tell your friends."

He shrugs. "Well, yeah. Mostly because I like hearing myself talk and think I have banger jokes, but... I don't know. Am not as confident as I thought I was."

"Want me to tell you that I don't mind being seen with you?" I offer, making Eddie grin.

"I mean, you could hold my hand when we go inside. That's something couples do. Maybe I'll lay my arm over your shoulders and kiss your cheek too."

"Yeah, we can totally do that," I agree. Before pulling down the visit and looking at the mirror. "I need to fix my makeup, though."

"Say no more," Eddie smiles, pulling the still-damp neon green hand towel from his pocket.

"You stole Tammy Thompson's towel?" I ask.

He nods proudly. "It's our towel now, baby. Not like she wouldn't have thrown it away, given that we used it to clean ourselves after fucking in her bathroom."

Grabbing a clean corner of the towel, he spits on it before bringing it to my face and cleaning away the dark streaks of makeup on my cheeks.

"I should be more grossed out by this than I am," I tell Eddie, making him laugh.

"Nah, you enjoy having my spit on your face."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because you're a freak. My freak, to be exact."

Eddie leans back, checking if he removed all of the mascara, then nods, happy with his work. He presses a kiss to my lip and then gets out of the van, running over to my side and opening the door for me.

*****

"Please tell me that's a joke!" I squeal, sitting next to Eddie on the floor of my living room.

He shakes his head, dipping another fry in his chocolate milkshake. "Nah, honest earned money."

"You ate a worm for ten dollars," I exclaim, making him chuckle.

"Yeah, because I was twelve and stupid. Today I would charge at least twenty bucks to eat one," he tells me proudly.

"How about I give you fifty, and you promise to never eat a worm again?"

"Deal, sweetheart." Grabbing my hand, Eddie shakes it eagerly, a boyish smirk on his lips. "See? Eating worms is already bringing in profits."

The Freak of Hawkins High has me laughing at all his stupid jokes, makes my heart flutter at every pet name he gives me, and the thought of him ever leaving makes me sad.

Maybe somewhere down the line of tonight's disastrous events, I have lost my mind. Maybe there was a rift in reality, and I ended up in a parallel universe... But somehow, I feel like myself again. Although she is a girl I bearly know at the moment, she feels familiar.

Somehow Eddie has found his way in the middle of all my chaos. He stands in the eye of a hurricane I created by trying to be the social butterfly I never was supposed to be.

The more time he spends with me, the more I feel grounded. I start feeling real again. I am not a butterfly. Maybe I am a raven, a rabbit, or a fox... Or maybe I am a girl that likes to use silly metaphors because they sound poetic. Who knows?

Cleaning up after our royal feast of burgers, fries, and milkshakes, I wash our plates. Eddie standing behind me and nipping at my neck. His teeth graze my skin, softly biting it.

Laying the clean plates aside, I lean back against his chest and sigh. He replies with a cocky chuckle.

"Can I ask you something, possibly very dirty?"

"Anything," I sough as my face heats up, and I try looking at him, but he holds me too securely, kissing my cheek and then my temple.

"I know we now established that you're positively afraid of me and know I am not going to hurt you... But when we were at the neon bathroom of horrors, I recall you saying you want to run away from me without a chance to escape."

I nod. "I– I know I said that, but that's not a question."

Eddie squeezes my waist, making sure to tickle me. "Oh, I'm sorry for trying to ease you into the conversation."

I giggle, and he stops as I try to move away. Sitting me on the kitchen island behind him, he steps between my legs, bringing his face close to mine. "Did you mean it?"

I quickly shrug, making him lecture me, "No, baby. Use your words. Work with me here."

"I know it's weird," I finally say, embarrassment burning my face. "I– I don't feel it with anybody but you, but it's really confusing."

Eddie's brows knit together. "Does it turn you on when you're scared of me, sweetheart?"

I nod, breath stacking as his hands glide up my naked thighs. "Want me to hunt you down like prey?"

I whimper, making his ego swell. "Maybe we could drive out to lovers lake sometime, and I chase you through the woods... Would you like that, princess?"

I nod eagerly. God, I should not feel myself becoming this wet when thinking of him like that.

As he raises his eyebrows, I remember to use my words. "Yes. Would like that very much."

Taking my jaw in his hand, he brings out lips together, grinning and whispering, "Kinky little thing," before kissing me so gently I could melt on the spot.

As he pulls away, he kisses the tip of my nose, then asks, "Want to show me your bedroom?"

"Are you going to stay?" I ask naively.

Although I am fully aware of my bedroom showing ending with him inside me, my heart yearns for a closeness I didn't think I was able to allow.

Eddie's warm eyes look at me, surprised and enamored. Almost as though I turned down hands full of diamonds just to hold a small rock, he'd handed me.

"Good luck trying to get rid of me," he laughs, pulling me off the kitchen island and setting me on my feet.

I grab his hand and pull him upstairs, turning off the lights downstairs as I do so. If I have my way, we're not coming down again until morning.

As we enter my room, Eddie looks around. He is underwhelmed. Massively underwhelmed. I can see it hidden under his pitiful attempt of keeping up a neutral face.

"Is it that bad?" I ask. "Did I ruin the mood?"

Eddie quickly shakes his head. He pulls me to his chest, kissing the top of my head. "Of course not, baby... I just understand now what Jessica meant by cardboard personality. It's really like a hotel room."

I look at the white, empty walls, the basic sheets, and the almost empty bedside tables with solely lamps and alarm on it. "Didn't want to risk having something I like and then get made fun of for it," I admit.

"Gonna make sure you'll never have to do that again, okay? You're too perfect to make you hide," Eddie tells me without any judgment in his voice, so sincere it feels like an oath.

He pulls himself away to look at the teddy bear sitting on my desk. "Now, who's that guy?"

I quickly grab his hand before he can touch my bear. "That's Frank. Please don't touch him. He's starting to fall apart. Have him since I was a child."

Eddie grins at the one-eyed bear, who's missing an ear. He points out the safety pin keeping the filling in his head, "Frank's short for Frankenstein?"

I shake my head. "They promise me for three years now that they'll help me patch him up."

"They?" Eddie asks before nodding. "Oh. They. Family's really leaving you hanging, huh?"

"They're– They just work a lot."

"You should still be their number one priority. You're their child." He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to talk himself into a frenzy. "Shit. When I started living with Wayne, he quit his job as a trucker and started working at the plant, doing night shifts so he could be home with me during the day."

"They make sure I'm cared for, though. I have tons of money. Can buy whatever I want," I defend my parents and aunt.

Eddie sighs, annoyance in his words. "Not everything can be fixed with money. Somebody should've been there to tell you that after you changed schools."

"Are you mad at me?" I ask, worried about the change in his demeanor.

His expression quickly turns soft. "No, no, no, princess." Cupping my cheeks, he says, "I just hate how you had to fend for yourself. After trauma, a kid needs somebody to trust and feel safe with, somebody who shows them they're there for them. You can't just give them money and a fresh start in a new town and think shit doesn't catch up with them. Your parents should've known better."

"Was your uncle that person for you?"

Eddie nods, sitting down on my bed with me. "Mom and Dad were really bad for each other. Saw a lot of nasty, toxic shit happen between them," he sighs, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Dad always had a foot in prison, and every time my mom would say we were not going back to him, yet we always did.

"After she got sick and eventually died, Dad didn't sell his stuff anymore but took it. The crimes got worse, his patience as thin as a knife's edge. My mom wasn't there anymore to cash in the beatings, so I got my ass handed to me a couple of times because I was too hyperactive and tested my luck.

"CPS got involved after Dad once again stole a car and that time robbed a diner, shooting the waitress, and I ended up with my dad's older brother. Wayne's cool, though. Took me a while to understand that you can get in trouble, and it ends with a stern talk and not with losing a tooth.

"Man's as linear as they come. Has never even gotten a speeding ticket. Would've probably ended like my dad, wouldn't it have been for him."

I swallow harshly. "Now I feel like a real piece shit for picking at your family when we'd fight."

Eddie shrugs. "Not like I didn't rub it in your face that you're being neglected."

"I'm sorry."

He presses his lips together. "I'm sorry, too."

I turn on the lamp on the bedside table, get up, and turn off the big light. My bedroom is now sparsely lit by warm yellow light. It seems cozier like this.

Walking back to Eddie, I climb in his lap, him not wasting a second to let his hands roam my body. We kiss, Eddie, pulling me into him by the waist, hips grinding up against me.

It feels like hours pass; the chance is high that that is actually the case. We sit in the middle of my queen-sized bed. Layer by layer, we have shed our clothes until we sat fully naked in from of each other.

Our legs are partially tangled, and there is nothing we hide from each other. I am the most vulnerable I've ever been. But I feel safe.

We still kiss, hands gliding over the smooth skin, exploring. Eddie's fingers glide in and out of me, while I moan into the kisses, returning the favor. We take breaks to collect our breath, using that time to admire the naked person before us.

The next set of kisses has Eddie back me against the pillows. My hands have captured his face to ensure he has to come with me.

He takes place between my legs as if we'd never meant to be together in any other way than this. As though we never had been at war with each other and ourselves while ensuring the other would succumb to madness.

Pulling his fingers out, he moves them to my lips, watching nearly enchanted as I take them into my mouth and clean them from my own wetness.

As he enters me, it feels like everything else, every growing pain of character, every touch by somebody other, and every spite-filled encounter washes away.

Eddie's movement is nothing more than pure lust and a sign of how long we've waited for the other. Our bodies pressed closely together, fingers, nails, and teeth digging into delicate skin like holding on to our sole lifeline.

The past and, with it, Jason, Jessica, and everyone else is nothing more than part of the tedious prologue before Eddie and I.

The night is filled with promises, whispers of sweet nothingness, and the call of each other's names. Only once we're wholly exhausted, have taken and given everything we can, can we bring ourselves to stop.

Our sweat-covered bodies are still tightly wrapped around each other. A kiss or two still stolen with the greatest efforts to ignore every sore muscle and the burning of our raw, scarlet lips.

Brushing wet hair out of my face, Eddie lies next to me, his fingers dancing over my face. The storms feel like they have surrendered to the fact that this is meant to be.

We're no longer fighting it and letting the other in. The Freak and the Princess of Hawkins High... We never stood a chance anyway.

*****

Opening my eyes the next morning, there is a total of forty-five blissful seconds. Birds are singing, a soft breeze is blowing over my skin from the window Eddie must be opened, and the sun is shining.

Then I roll over, and my hand touches the cold pillow next to mine. I sit up, look around, and notice the lack of clothes on the floor.

Not only that, Frank the teddy bear is gone too.

My heart is beating fast.

A voice in my head laughs at me, while another tells me I've been played. Last night and this morning, make sure to leave me with an unsettling whiplash I try to ignore.

I get up, quickly throwing over my dress from last night, and walk down the stairs.

Maybe I am freaking out over nothing.

"Eddie?" I call through the house but am met with no answer. "Eddie?"

He's not in the kitchen, the living room, or the garden. There is no message on a notepad or a missed call. I call and call until my voice cannot hide the reality of things.

I am alone.

I walk back upstairs, tears running down my face as I change the sheets, close the window, and take a steaming hot shower. I need to get every memory of him off my body.

He left.

He fucked me and left.

Eddie fucking played me. He let me let my guard down and stabbed me in the back.

I shouldn't even be surprised. I've been nothing but a bitch to him all year. He saw a chance to get back at me and took it.

After my shower, I put on my baggy festival shirt and panties and put on a horror movie while I cry my eyes out on the couch.

I cry over the loss of my teddy bear. I cry over how real last night felt. I cry over the fact that I have effectively burned every bridge and am on my own... Just like I always was.

I gave Eddie so much of myself, thinking he would be different, not like Jason. But men are all the same, apparently.

*****

☠︎ The Freak's POV ☠︎

Sneaking in through the ridiculously loud squeaking door, I kick off my shoes. The hardwood floors seem like they are worth more than both my kidneys on the black market, so I don't want to risk anything, even though the princess told me not to worry last night.

I put the plastic bags I carry with me in the kitchen and catch a glimpse of my girl lying on the couch. The loud credits of a slasher on tv seem to have canceled out my arrival.

I walk in, smiling at her. The second she looks up, my smile falls.

"Hey, sweetheart, baby, are you okay?" I ask worriedly, closing the distance between us and falling onto my knees before her.

Did her former friends call? Another heartbreak by her family?

She takes a shakey breath, whimpering, "What are you doing here?"

I look over my shoulder toward the kitchen and back at her. Her eyes are red, her cheeks wet. How long did she sit here and cry? "I– I was out. Was up before you and got us some breakfast."

"You left," she whispers.

"Only for a little."

"I– I thought..."

As her voice dies, my eyes become wide. The princess had thought I wouldn't return.

"Shit. Baby, no, no, no. I was just out getting some stuff. I left you a note." She shakes her head, but I insist. "I did."

I pull her up from the couch, dragging her upstairs. I did not tiptoe around this morning and search for sticky notes and a pen like an idiot for this to be the outcome. For her to be upset.

Entering her bedroom, I walk straight to the nightstand on her side of the bed.

Okay.

Fair.

No note.

The princess still stands there at the door, looking like she has been absolutely miserable since she woke up—which is no surprise if she thought I ran off after promising her the world last night.

She showered and wears this shirt that would make a better dress. Lilac-colored ones replace the sheets from last night, and the severity of what she went through hits me like a brick.

The princess thought I used her and left.

Just like Jason fucking Carver.

The bane of my existence.

God, I hate that guy.

I turn to the nightstand again. I know I placed the note there. I'd stuck it on her alarm so she'd see it. I drop to the floor, looking under the bed.

Nothing.

But there, almost completely behind the nightstand, shines the neon pink traitor. Wind must've yanked that piece of shit up and thrown it behind it.

I quickly get up and hand it to her. The princess takes a second to read:

"Out to get breakfast and take Frankenstein on a ride. Gonna be back in a heartbeat. — E. ♡"

As she looks up at me, her beautiful eyes fill with tears again. "I thought you wouldn't come back."

I rub the back of my neck. "Didn't mean to upset you, princess. Next time I'll put it somewhere better, kay? Promise."

A tear runs down her face, and I am quick to cup her cheek and wipe it away. Her fingers wrap around my wrist while she nuzzled her cheek into my palm.

My heart flutters and my chest feels fuzzy (that whole butterfly-soda condition really feels more like a medical emergency than anything else). She's the most gorgeous when she lets me see her vulnerable side.

"You kidnapped my bear," she finally whispers, and I chuckle, pressing a kiss to her hairline.

"No bearnapping took place, baby. We just went on a little shopping trip."

"Told you he could fall apart at any moment..." she huffs.

I wrap an arm around her, and we make our way down to the kitchen. Opening one of the plastic bags, I hand her her stuffed friends.

She sits down on a barstool by the kitchen island and carefully pats his head. "Thought you took him as a souvenir."

We're seriously doing something wrong if women think that low of us.

I should beat the shit out of Jason.

I look at her, obviously fake annoyance on my face. "Now, what was so hard to understand when I told you you're now stuck with me?"

She shrugs, and I dislike that I understand her uncertainty. It will potentially take a while of me being the most annoying, clingy piece of shit until she gets it. But okay. I'm good at being annoying and clingy. I'm totally up for the challenge.

"Why did you take him with you?"

I grin, flipping over the plastic bag—an array of needles, threats, filling, and fabric tumbles onto the counter.

"We're fixing Frankenstein," I announce, opening the little paper bag with the replacement eye and showing it to the princess.

"Really?" she asks in disbelief. "But– I can't sew."

I spin slowly, pointing out my battle vest's patches. "Lucky for you, I am a God at it."

"And you know what to do?"

I nod. "The lady at the store helped, and we picked out a matching fabric, threat, and eye. She's also the reason I didn't get the demon-looking cat eye. She said she thinks my girlfriend could get scared should I put it on her teddy bear."

"Girlfriend," the princess whispers, the softest smile on her lips.

"Of course. You traded your shitty friends in for me, remember?" She nods, making me sigh in relief. "Good. Amazing, actually. Because your boyfriend also got you these!"

I pull a couple of posters out of the second bag, unrolling them to present them to her royal highness. "Black Sabbath, Metallica, and – of course – Corroded Coffin."

She giggles, grabbing the Corroded Coffin one and looking at mine and the guys' hand-drawn masterpiece. "So I'm hanging my boyfriend's band on my bedroom wall?"

"Hey," I tell at her jokingly. "If my girl isn't supporting me, then who is?"

She nods. "You're right. Gonna be a good rockstar girlfriend."

"An extremely hot one, too," I say, wrapping an arm around her waist again. "We're gonna be the bi-awakening for a lot of people, sweetheart."

"Sounds good." The princess leans forwards, capturing my lips with hers, and I feel my knees buckle.

No matter how cool I pretend to be, she makes me fucking melt. And now that she doesn't bite anymore, I can finally indulge myself in her.

Wrapping her legs around my waist, I set Frankenstein on the counter and carry my girl upstairs.

Throwing her onto the freshly made bed with which she tried to erase the memory of us, I crawl on top of her while taking off my jacket and shirt and throwing them aside.

I kiss her softly, feeling her hands glide over the massive searches she marked me with last night. They burn like hell, but each ounce of pain feels good. The princess marked her territory.

"You wanna paint your walls before we put the posters up?" I ask her. "Or would you rather get some wallpaper?"

She looks around for a moment then her stunning eyes meet mine. "You know how to put up wallpaper?"

I shrug. "I mean... It'll probably look like shit, but sure. If you want it, I'll figure out how to do it."

I have an unbelievable, lovesick audacity that makes me believe I could do anything her precious heart longs for. Fuck, having her like me is an ego boost that will probably go to my head.

No. Nope. It's already there.

The way she grins up at me, fingers cradling my face... I am fucking invincible and apparently really good in the sack.

"Didn't you say you got breakfast?"

Way to bring me down to earth.

I frown for a second, thinking of where I put the waffles, eggs, bacon, and pancakes I got at a nearby diner.

"I- Uhh..." Yeah, I have no idea. "Either it's still in the van, or I left it at the diner."

The princess starts laughing, throwing her head back into the sheets. I use that moment to gently bite her neck, licking over the bite mark with my tongue.

"In my defense, I was busy thinking about the bear and if I can pull off making a little Hellfire shirt for him," I speak against her skin.

My girl lets out a sigh. "But what will the King of Hellfire say when he finds out you're making them for non-members?"

"Frankenstein is an honorary member," I inform her, sitting back on my legs and pulling her onto my lap. "His human is the King's woman. The Princess of Hellfire."

"Shouldn't I be the Queen then?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow.

I lick my lips, pulling her face closer. "Don't get greedy, princess. Being the Queen is something that you earn."

Her lips split into a smile. "And how do I earn it?"

I place a kiss on her right cheek. "By being kind." Another on her left cheek. "By being yourself." And I place the final one on her lips. "And by staying with me for at least a month. Gonna crown you Queen as my one-month anniversary present."

"Sounds like a cop-out, so you don't have to buy me something," the princess teases.

I gasp, appalled, and push her off my lap. "You're gonna regret that one, princess." She looks at me with big eyes. "Gonna give you a 10-second headstart. Better make sure I don't get you."

While slowly standing up and moving towards the door, she grins. "What happens when you caught me?"

I slowly stand up as well. "Then I'll eat you alive, princess. Make sure you really regret being an ungrateful little slut."

Her breath hitches, and she squeals as I make a sudden move in her direction. We grin at each other, both our eyes darkening with lust, then she bolts out of her room and down the stairs.

I chase after her multiple times feeling her shirt or skin on my fingertips. She is laughing, screaming, and squirming as I finally grab her.

Placing her on the dinner table, I force her back against the cold wood while I step between her legs. "Now I got you, sweetheart," I chuckle deeply. "No point in running anymore."

I take a step back and spread her legs further for me. Kneeling between them, I bite the inside of her thigh, while I make my way to her center.

The fighting spirit has already left her. My girl whimpers as I pull her innocent little panties aside and am met with her arousal glistening in the daylight. I lick my lips before I dive in, her hands quick to grasp for my hair as she moans loudly.

*****

The Queen of Hellfire.

The Freak's girlfriend.

For many, she used to be Hawkins High's Princess, somebody they aspired to be. They don't understand what happened, why she gave up her title, and now plays with the terrifying King of Hellfire.

They don't get how he managed to get the Queen's family to approve of him, like him, so far so that they even wanted to pay for his college education. How he gratefully declined (of course) and instead got them to pay for the first of many Corroded Coffin albums.

He didn't even need to ask. He brought the Queen's smile back on her face and that is worth the world for her family.

Not that anyone in Hawkins ever understands anything. Like, how the ex-cheerleader became best friends with a bunch of nerds, Robin from band, Steve Harrington, and future star journalist Nancy Wheeler.

But as the Queen of Hellfire learned, it doesn't fucking matter what others think as long as she is happy and has the King on his knees for her, worshipping her divine form.

She's fucking mine. Forever.

Suck it, Carver.

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[viatagrinner]

Gilbert von Obsidian. Chapter 5

The girl prepares cookies for Gilbert as gratitude for her rescue. He accepts the gift, but he has plans of his own. Gil wants her to stay with him overnight. Not that MC can't imagine the incomprehension this situation will cause to those around him.

Gilbert: You think I set this situation up for you, don't you?

She wanted to conquer her fear, but she became uncomfortable.

Gilbert: I want to get along with you, Miss Bunny, that's why...

Gilbert: I won't let you out of my room tonight.

The prince put his arm around her waist.

MC: What's your goal?

Gilbert: Guess what?

The girl thinks about what it's probably to spread weird rumors.

(Even if that's true, what are you going to do by spreading rumors?)

MC doesn't know what to answer him.

Gilbert: Then it remains a mystery.

(Maybe I'm thinking too much.)

MC: Are you lonely?

Gilbert: ....I'm lonely?

The Obsidian prince arrived alone. He doesn't like Rhodolite. Everyone shuns him. He looked happy when he played with the kids because they didn't know who he was. The only one around Gilbert is MC.

MC thinks about the fact that his choice of loneliness was not voluntary. And he likes the lively environment.

It seems to her that she thinks right.

Gilbert: If I tell you I'm lonely, will you stop running away?

MC: No. I'll run away...

Gilbert: That's cruel.

But the heroine decided to stay until he fell asleep. The cookies won't go bad, so the prince can go to bed.

To make him fall asleep faster, she'll even sing him a lullaby.

Gilbert: Ha ha! A cornered rabbit will do anything to survive, right?

Gilbert: A lullaby, yeah... I still want you to put me to bed like an adult.

Next comes the choice: slap, kiss, or make cookies. You have to choose the second choice, a kiss.

MC: You mean a kiss?

MC: ......

MC: What!?

Gilbert: Haha, you're/one person making a hundred faces. Miss Bunny is so cute.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

The heroine thinks he is teasing her, but he is serious.

Gilbert: That sounds like a regular greeting, doesn't it? Unless Miss Bunny has some weird thoughts.

Gilbert: Ah, shameless.

MC: It's not like that! If I kiss you on the cheek, will you fall asleep?

But why is the prince doing all this? It's simple, he wants to make her angry.

She feels that there is another reason here.

MC kisses Gil on the cheek. The prince is pleased.

The girl's heart pounded remotely. She didn't think a kiss on the cheek could make someone happy.

Gilbert: Hmm... I can't help it. I've thought up a lot of bad ideas, but I'll let you off the hook this time for your desperation.

He lets her go. MC almost walks away, but stops in front of the door.

MC: Prince Gilbert ...You're really lonely, aren't you?

For a man who always knows what to say, the pause lingers.

Gilbert denies his loneliness. He doesn't understand the word "Lonely" and has long forgotten what it is.

She recalls Chevalier's words that sometimes a ruler needs to cut out his heart. It is the pursuit of a perfect winner's form.

(Why did Prince Gilbert give up his humanity and become a beast?)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Today, MC works in the foreign policy faction. Gilbert is with her. He has kindly offered to teach her how to draft documents.

Because the other princes don't explain to her how to do it. Clavis and Nokto are not happy.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Next destination.

The training room.

The new "young and naive", according to the obsidian prince, knights have arrived.

Gilbert: But at first glance, about 10 children will die on the battlefield. They are unable to carry out their commander's orders.

MC: I wonder how Prince Gilbert figured that out.

It's his experience, plus he comes from a military empire.

Gilbert: Teach you the basics of military craft?

MC is curious to know.

Gilbert: Then call me Professor* Gilbert or Professor Gil?

*Sensei

MC: Okay, Professor.

Gilbert: Ahaha, and you're obedient.

Licht and Jin watched this dialogue.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Dance lessons.

Gil was her partner.

But now the class is all over, and the prince has errands to run.

The girl speaks hastily about him being a busy man, she understands.

Gilbert: Hey, you look pretty happy, but that's just my imagination, isn't it?

She denies it.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

(Finally!)

(...At last I am alone!)

Her fear of the prince disappeared, but she had to be on her guard at all times.

While Miss is pondering, her foot catches on something and she falls.

MC: It hurts....

She twisted her ankle.

Beside her stood The Noble Lady and her maid.

Noble Lady: But it's bad manners to sit on the court floor forever.

A look of outright anger was on the woman's face.

But the heroine knew that sooner or later something would happen. Spending more and more time with the enemy prince, she saw the anger, the fear, the contempt that thickened around her.

No words came to her mind to dispel their anger.

Luckily for her, Yves was passing by, he saw what had happened. The noble lady tries to deceive him by saying that MC herself fell, but, realising that the Prince does not believe her and saw everything himself, she takes offence.

Yves helps the heroine to stand up, while scolding the noblewoman.

Noble Lady: There seems to be some misunderstanding.

Yves: Please don't test my patience by doing more vile things.

The noblewoman leaves.

Yves suggests that she call the court physician, and in the meantime he escorts her to her room.

(Kindness after anger feels deeper.)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

MC's Room.

Yves is still outraged by the noblewoman's behavior.

But MC reassures him by saying that the doctor says she has a mild case and it will pass soon. In a week's time, it will pass.

The heroine asks him not to tell anyone about the case.

Yves is outraged. He wanted to tell all the princes and think about punishment for this woman.

But MC doesn't want Gil to find out about it. She is afraid that the prince will want to punish her abuser in some cruel way.

The heroine does not want to see blood, for the eyes and ears of the obsidian prince are everywhere.

Yves is not pleased. He thinks that the girl is very good-natured and trouble might happen one day.

She responds by calling the prince kind, to which he blushes.

Yves: But... I wonder what Prince Gilbert wants to do to you?

He ponders that Gil won't let her get hurt.

The girl does not understand the enemy prince's motives. He has been "awfully kind" to her all these days.

Yves: Prince Gilbert's kindness is not kindness at all.

Yves realizes that Gil wants to isolate her.

Yves: It's an attempt to trample your heart.

MC is sure it's because she's a Belle.

He doesn't see the connection between isolation and Belle. Although maybe Gilbert wants her to choose the king he's comfortable with, and for that king to be followed by rumors as if he was chosen because of the prince from Obsidian.

But Yves doubts this.

But he suggests they leave Gil alone for now, there is another problem.

If your name is associated with Obsidian, it doesn't matter what kind of person you are anymore.

Yves: You're either hated or wanted to be used.

There's pain in his words.

Yves: My mother was from Obsidian. ...She died giving birth to me.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Yves' Story: According to the nanny who raised him, Yves' mother was the sister of the current Emperor Obsidian's full wife. If this is true, he is Gilbert's cousin.

Several years ago, Obsidian and Rhodolite had a diplomatic relationship. As a token of friendship and to improve ties, the Obsidian princess married the Rhodolite king. But this did not strengthen the ties, but only made things worse. Perhaps the Obsidians used Yves's mother as a shield to enter unprofitable negotiations. The King didn't like all this and Obsidian severed diplomatic ties. Then a ten-year old event occurred. And Yves finally became an outcast.

Yves's troubles are more serious than the girl's, but she also feels her home country growing colder and colder to her.

But Yves does not fall into despondency.

(...You are a strong man.)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Yves wanted to ask Gil about his mother.

MC says Gil knew something.

Yves: But there was obvious hostility toward me. There must be a reason.

The prince is angry again, because he hasn't done anything to Gilbert, so why is he being treated so rudely?

The heroine wants to help him, but Yves refuses.

She tells the prince that he is a kind and pleasant man. Yves blushes.

Yves: Huh!? No, I am not kind. If anything happens to you because of me, I'll just get a stomach ache!

MC: That's called being nice.

Yves: Oh, no! Don't get me wrong!

MC got better...

Yves: MC, I'm your senior advisor.

Yves cautions the girl: The isolation and cold around her will only get worse. It's okay to be angry about it all. Then they'll figure something out. Don't allow unreasonable things like today.

The girl thinks that no matter how cold she feels, Yves will always be at her side. She remembers Chevalier's words that she can't trust anyone, but she believes Yves.

MC: I will definitely get mad next time.

Yves: I'll remember your promise. And if you don't, I'll call you stupid.

MC: I don't like that.

Laughter erupted throughout the room.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Yves left, and toward evening MC went to the library to find Chevalier. But Gilbert found her instead.

He knows where Chevalier is and would gladly take her there.

The enemy prince's gentle voice doesn't scare her like it used to, but it always "hurts her heart."

MC wonders why the prince thought she was looking for Chevalier.

Gilbert replies that it is the archive she came out of that belongs to Chevalier.

MC: You know me well.

Gilbert: I'm well-informed.

Gilbert: If you go, I'll walk you out.

She tries to refuse. But Gilbert insists. MC agrees.

Gilbert: By the way, you're really attached to Chevalier, aren't you? That's unusual.

MC: Unusual?

Gilbert: Yes. Chevalier is a "ruthless beast," isn't he?

MC knows that she's probably about to face what he's so named for.

Gilbert explains that few people wear the Chevalier insignia. Because few people want to deal with the Beast.

Gilbert: Miss Bunny is quite rare. I'm sure Chevalier would have loved you.

MC: .....What are you trying to say?

Gilbert: If you're a "Belle," you should understand that.

Gilbert: Even if you know Chevalier, you don't know "the cruel and ruthless beast."

Gilbert: Don't just look on the good side and turn a blind eye to the bad side.

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Gilbert's Masterlist

[chlorophasmic]

It's not as if you didn't anticipate another upsurge in attitude; It practically comes with the surname, and runs twofold for an angel with an extra set of limbs to carry the double helping. On the other hand, anticipation isn't enough to prepare you for the raw intensity behind it, overshadowed by his hunch inwards and choked out by arguments you can't think to keep up with.

"You don't get it," Mumbled into the shallow scoop of space between the puff of his breath and your jaw, too close for comfort. All you can really consider is the way he's left his back bared to you, unguarded and jut out to facilitate his face shoved into yours, oddly indignant for someone who- again- didn't even like the drink! It'd be easy to take advantage of the opportunity, but you're too busy being a decent person that it's only left you flustered to show for it, an uncomfortable wince as you grasp loosely at the ground, forcing restraint where there begs not to be.

"If you're just gonna admit you had a motive anyway, I'm glad I did it. It means you were gonna take mine, so I disarmed both of us. And neutralized the situation! That's called self defense."

As much as you can play defense with the enemy quite literally hovering over you.

The alcohol running through your blood without your knowledge already has you feeling hot, but your blood is boiling at the idea that he really seems to think he's allowed to just dictate your entire life. Who is he to decide it was bad for you, even if you didn't love it? This argument is personal now, so you rescind your finger in favor of leaning in close so you can stare directly into his eyes. The position is awkward as you hunch your back over, but the ergonomics of it are nothing in comparison to the importance of making your point.

"You can't just decide something's bad for me just because you want to drink mine too! And- and I wouldn't have any reason to want to get back at you if you weren't taking mine in the first place!"

You're proud of yourself for mostly avoiding tripping over your words as they come tumbling out, all accusatory as you continue to lean further into his personal space. Because yeah, obviously already being on top of him wasn't a strong enough gesture of getting in his face and confrontational.

[whimsicallyreading]

You Don’t Even Go Here

Day Two for Rowaelin Month

A college AU

~

Aelin grins mischievously as she walks up the stairs of the men's dorm at Terresan University. The teal-blue waffle iron clutched under her arm.

Aedion didn't really need it. It had been on the fifty-percent-off rack at the supermarket, and he'd simply thrown it in the cart for good measure. Yet, when Aelin saw the box for it laying the hall, she'd seen opportunity.

It had hit her harder than she'd thought. Aedion leaving. They'd been raised like siblings but grew up something closer to best friends. It wasn't fair that he was nearly three years older and ready to leave when she wasn't prepared for him to go.

Aelin had cried the whole car ride home. Then when they finally got back to the house, she'd called him right away. He could hear how teary she was and happily obliged her call. Narrating his actions as he went about setting up his dorm room. He teased her about missing him, but she could tell that he missed her too.

So, armed with an excuse to visit him, Aelin made the hour-long drive to visit her cousin.

Aelin was halfway up the stairs but not paying too much attention to her surroundings. She was too busy repeating Aedion's room number over in her head because no matter how many times she checked her phone, it just wouldn't stick in her head. Maybe if she'd focused a little more on the things happening around her, she wouldn't have crashed into a half-naked man.

A solid and calloused hand darts out and grips her shoulder before she can go tumbling down the stairs. Its twin desperately clutching the towel wrapped around his waist.

Aelin looks up apologetically, and her jaw nearly falls to the floor. His white hair was still damp from the shower and swooped over the top of his head, and his biceps were too large for Aelin to wrap both hands around. An intricate tattoo coils elegantly from a cheekbone and down the length of his body.

He was a man indeed. Nothing like Chaol or Dorian or any of her junior friends. This was a new breed of man. The apex kind. Aelin is pretty sure she looks like a deer in the headlights, and she's too busy ogling him to understand the words he'd been repeating to her.

"Are you okay?" His eyebrows are furrowed as if he's afraid he'd literally struck her stupid. Aelin felt that wasn't far from the truth.

"Yes, sorry," she apologizes as she steps back, suddenly very aware of how in his personal space she was. "I wasn't paying attention. You just caught me by surprise."

Aelin was definitely panicking. Where was her swagger when she needed it most? Why would it choose now to abandon her?

By some miracle, he doesn't seem off-put by her awkwardness. In fact, a smile curls the edges of his lips, revealing a set of dimples that made her heart stumble.

Gods he had dimples.

"No, I ran into you. It's my fault. My name is Rowan.”

He holds out a hand, and Aelin shakes it clumsily. "I'm Aelin."

"Aelin." She loves the way her name rolls off his tongue. "I haven't seen you around before. Are you a freshman?"

Oh no. Aelin's eyes widen, but she recovers swiftly and smooths her features out. Rowan thinks she's a student. Not some crazy high schooler too emotionally dependent on her cousin.

"I'm actually a junior," Aelin laughs at his perplexed expression. "I don't go here, though. I'm just stopping by to drop off some things my cousin forgot."

White lies. What was a white lie worth? Aelin likely wouldn't ever see him again, and is it so wrong for a girl to enjoy some harmless attention? If Aelin spent more time thinking about it, she probably wouldn't like the answers she'd come up with, but that was neither here nor there.

"Is that a waffle maker?" Rowan's green eyes glint with amusement.

"My cousin loves to eat. What year are you?" Aelin crosses her fingers that he's the same age as Aedion and not a senior or something. Her cousin would murder her if he found out she flirted with a man five years older.

"Don't we all? I'm a sophomore, a bit younger than you, I suppose." Rowan drags a hand through his hair. "Listen, I know you came to see your cousin, but maybe I could get your number, and we could get a cup of coffee before you head out?"

Was this really happening? Aelin inwardly squealed with excitement. Lysandra would die when she recounted this story later. "Sure."

Just as she pulled her phone from her pocket, an all too familiar voice materialized behind her. "Aelin?"

Aedion smiles as he lays eyes on his beloved cousin. He takes a couple steps down the stairs, and that grin quickly fades as he sees the naked man.

Oops, she'd forgotten that detail.

"Rowan?" Aedion's eyes harden as they lock on Rowan. "Why the hell are you ogling my cousin with no clothes on?"

"You know him?" Aelin swears under her breath. She cannot believe her luck.

Aedion laughs coldly as he sizes up Rowan, "He's my roommate, but he's about to be a corpse. Why are you perving on my seventeen-year-old cousin?"

Rowan's looks between the bewildered. "You said you were a junior?"

Aedion laughs harshly as Aelin blushes. "I am...just in highschool. Not college. I told you I didn't go here."

"I didn't realize I was rooming with a pedophile," Aedion grabs Aelin and pulls her to his chest. "Was he bothering you?"

"Pedophile?" Rowan's dimples have disappeared, and he looks at Aedion disturbed. "I'm only nineteen!"

Aelin shoves away from Aedion's boorish grip. "The only one bothering me is you."

Rowan's cheeks are flushed red as the full impact of the situation they were found in dawns on him. Damn it if Aelin didn't find his blush endearing. He is a solid chunk of muscle. How is everything he does so cute?

"Look, I just got out of the shower, and I bumped into Aelin. It was an accident. She was just on her way to give you your waffle maker-"

"You brought my waffle maker?" Aedion cuts Rowan off, eyeing the box under her arm.

That's when Aelin sees it. The twinkle of mischief in his eye and the forced concern. Aedion was playing her. He obviously knew Rowan wasn't a creep and saw the perfect opportunity to cause chaos. Aelin scowls at him, and that spark grows brighter. It's moments like this she wonders why she ever missed her cousin in the first place.

Aedion tugs the box out of her grasp and smiles. "Wow. This is perfect timing. Vaughn and Fen were just talking about making breakfast for dinner." He looks at Aelin and forces a frown. "If I'd known you were coming, I would have invited you, but it would kind of be rude to bring a guest now."

"What?" Aelin sputters. She drove all this way, and he was really going to ditch her? It was embarrassing, but tears prickled at the edges of her eyes. He was an ass, but she obviously came because she missed him, and he didn't even care? She really thought they were closer than that.

"Yeah. Sorry, Lin." Aedion points at Rowan, who was just standing to the side, thoroughly uncomfortable. Yet, despite the awkwardness, he hadn't left. "Hey, you owe me one for creeping on my little cousin. Earn my trust back and see that she has something for dinner and gets to her car safely? She has my phone number, one bad text, and your ass is grass."

Aedion tosses her a wink, and it's all Aelin can do to keep from outright gaping. Rowan looks stunned, his eyes darting between the two Ashryvver's. They settle on Aelin for a moment too long. Some of the tension eases from his shoulders, and he smiles. "I think I can manage that."

"Good." Aedion turns back up the stairs pats the box. "Thanks for bringing it to me, Lin. I'll call you tomorrow, don't send me to voicemail."

Just like that, her cousin, a walking, talking agent-of-chaos, disappears back to wherever he came from.

"So," Rowan starts, "If you want, I know a perfect Italian place we could swing by, my treat seeing as I plowed into you."

Aelin frowns and fiddles with the end of her necklace. "You aren't upset that I lied?"

"You didn't lie." Rowan chuckles, a deep sound that sends a shiver of delight down Aelin's spine. "You don't go here."

Aelin tilts her head as if she's deeply considering the offer. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. What's good there?"

"They have an awesome kabob." Rowan tugs his towel tighter. "It's my favorite."

It's Aelin's turn to laugh. "Isn't that just meat on a stick?"

"Let's go, and I can show you how profoundly wrong you are," he moves to take a step down, but Aelin stops him with a hand to the shoulder. "What is it?"

Aelin points to his towel, "I don't think they will serve guests without pants."

The flush that Aelin loves his back full force as he scrambles the other direction up the stairs. "Shit. Give me five minutes. I'll be right back. Aedion better have not locked out or I swear-"

Rowan's embarrassed tirade quiets as he charges up to his dorm to change. Aelin smiling as he goes. She can't believe she's going out to dinner with a guy like that.

Opening her phone, she sends a quick heart emoji to her cousin. He instantly replies back with one of his own. Aedion may have moved to college, but he still had her back at the end of the day. Even if it wasn't in the most ideal way.

Rowan comes back down the stairs moments later, and she's not disappointed by what she sees. He took the time to put on a flannel shirt and comb some gel through his hair. While the view without clothes had been pleasant, Aelin could definitely appreciate this look too.

"I'm ready if you are," Rowan extends an arm to help her down the stairs.

It's such a fussy, old-man move, and she loves it.

"Let's go."

[bluecookies02]

Dabi x Reader- cûm soaked silk

Summary: You're the league's relatively new addition, during a fight Dabi saves you, immediately catching your attention and clouding your mind. Eventually after a row of success the league organizes a party and Dabi comes over so the two of you can prepare.

Warnings: cum play, creampies ,throatfucking, light alcohol consumption, pinning, panties theft.

/masterlist/

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Here you are once again waking up at 2 in the afternoon. With a quick stretch and desperate grasp for consciousness, you feel the familiar pain of a long night spent gathering supplies and fighting the trash that calls themselves heroes.

Thankfully, it was a night full of victories for the LOV so the pride you feel is stronger than the strain on your tired body. In everything you remember from last night, one moment sticks out so clear that you can't help but blush and let a smile escape the corner of your lips.

"A little danger looks good on you."

That was the most Dabi had said to you since you joined the League. A small-time hero aimed their quirk at you and your heavily scarred teammate was quick to throw you against the nearest wall, his body covering yours. There was nothing but anger in your heart and a lust for blood painted on your face until your eyes met his stunning blues.

All it took was those few words from his all too calm voice and that lazy, lustful look from his heavy-lidded eyes...you were hooked. With a final stretch, you tried to shake him from your mind.

Freshly showered and with coffee in hand, you grabbed your phone off of the nightstand. You skimmed your missed messages to get an idea of the day ahead of you. Nothing unusual. Some blood-soaked selfies from Toga, early morning ramblings from Twice, a short but thoughtful message from Kurogiri thanking you for your efforts last night, and a lackluster message from your boss inviting you to attend a gathering at the LOV hideout for a few drinks and to officially welcome you into the fold.

Well, at least you had something besides a mission to look forward to. You'd been wound so tight for months doing everything you could to help the league and uphold Stain's ideals. You needed tonight. Besides, he might be there. Before you had the chance to shame yourself for letting him back into your thoughts, your phone rang. An unknown number.

You got out a sleepy, half-hearted, "Hello," before you heard it. That honey-coated voice that caused a chill to run the length of your spine before his warmth washed over you.

"I see our crusty leader is throwing you a party. That's quite a surprise. So when are we going?"

Like always, he was so matter of fact. So sure of himself and set in his intentions. As much as his words made you want to melt into the floor, he said a little danger looked good on you, right? Fine. Then you would live dangerously.

You caught your breath before meeting his cool tone with your own subtlely beckoning statement. "Why don't you come over and we'll discuss it over a drink? If you've got my number, I'm sure getting my address should be just as easy for you." He let out a chuckle, wicked and low.

"See you in an hour dollface."

With that, you both hung up. Your heart was going to implode. What had you gotten yourself into? You bit your lip and smiled. It took no time for you to pick out the perfect outfit. No worn-out villain clothes tonight. No. This called for something exceptional.

A little black dress, some thigh high stockings, and the perfect lace lined lingerie would get you more than just a passing glance from the stapled stud you had set your sights on. As you laid the outfit neatly on the edge of your bed, it hit you. "Shit." Your alcohol-fueled stress relief had left your house completely dry. Whatever.

Fashionably late with a bottle in hand seemed better than facing this man without a little liquid courage. A quick text and you were out the door. "Heading out for a bit. Give me 30. Let yourself in and get comfortable."

Getting your address was simple. He was a man on a mission and after last night, he had a hunger. Saving you was the first thing on his mind during yesterday's battle. You were reckless and he could relate to you. A woman with convictions was his weakness. In a world full of fake meaning, your passion was as fiery as his quirk and he wanted more. Needed more of you.

The thoughts that crossed his mind after pinning you to that wall were less than noble. He wanted to feel you, to sink his teeth into your soft flesh. God he hoped you were a fighter behind closed doors too. Maybe he could overpower you.

He wondered if you knew how much you had him worked up and if you were just as desperate for a release as he was. Before he knew it, he was at your front door. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

"Get comfortable? Alright, doll. Let's see what you're all about."

He was surprised upon entering your apartment.

"Pretty classy place for such a reckless fighter. What are you hiding in here, little miss?"

He was eager to get to know you better. He couldn't simply flop onto the couch and kick his feet up. He knew you were more than a simple yet dedicated member of the league. You had dirty little secrets somewhere and he was out to find them. A few unlabeled pill bottles in the bathroom, empty champagne bottles in the kitchen...nothing too out of the normal considering your line of work.

When he finally made his way into your room, it was as well put together as the rest of your flat. He sifted through your nightstands and found...nothing. He let out a little sigh of defeat and sat next to a small pile of clothes on the bed. Running his hands under your pillows in a last ditch effort, he finally found something.

"So you are a naughty girl. You don't disappoint after all."

His wicked smirk was a sight to see as he held your toy in his hand. He had seen these before in a questionable marketplace. So he knew two things for sure; you had taste and he wanted you even more now. He'll make you forget you even own that little toy.

He was praying that this was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to your kinks. He made a mental note and tucked the vibrator back under your pillow.

He moved his attention to the outfit you had delicately placed across the mattress. If that was what you were planning to wear tonight then you knew exactly what you were doing to him. He could imagine the way that tiny dress would hug your curves and tease him with glimpses of all the places of your body he wanted to devour.

The fishnets were a filthy addition and he might let you keep those on while he had his way with you someday. His thoughts continued to spiral and he could feel his growing erection pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.

That's when he saw them. There they were. Those perfect, lacey little panties. His hunger for you hit primal levels as he grabbed your panties off the bed and tugged at the hem with his teeth. His free hand was already rubbing his aching cock through his pants as he imagined sliding those panties over and letting himself inside you.

Oh, the sweet moans you would make. How would his name sound when it rolled off your tongue as you begged for him to wreck you? He knew you wouldn't be back for another 20 minutes and he couldn't hold out any longer.

He made quick work of laying back on your bed and freeing his now rock hard cock from its clothed cage. He grabbed the black silk panties and wrapped them firmly around his base as he began pumping and stroking.

He bit his lower lip at the electric feeling taking him over. He was a man possessed and he would get his release by any means necessary. The veins along his shaft were throbbing as he thought of you all dolled up and desperate for him. He wanted to know how you would look on your knees ready and waiting for him. He could almost feel your hips gripped tightly in his hands as he imagined ruthlessly hammering every inch into you. His deviant thoughts and the feeling of your panties sliding sweetly along his length was an intoxicating combination. His other hand reached for his heavy balls, massaging them, trying his best to spoil himself for the remaining time he had.

All it took was the thought of your pussy gripping and welcoming him inside you with that black lace causing the perfect amount of friction between your swollen lips, clinging desperately for that pathetic amount of friction-... He couldn't help himself. Thick, hot ropes of cum were coating the cotton lining of your panties, his release overflowing and pulling all the way to the base of his cock.

He milked out the last few drops and watched as they soaked into the thin fabric.

Well, this would either get him kicked out of your flat or he would get the confirmation he needed that this overwhelming lust was mutual. All he knew was that he needed a drink.

With perfect timing, you returned home with a bottle in each hand just as he had placed the underwear back onto the bed and got himself situated on the couch as though nothing had happened.

Your heart almost skipped a beat. You assumed he would show up so that was no surprise. What you hadn't planned for was just how good he would look; the track lighting of your apartment showcasing him like a work of art. He looked so comfortable, so natural sprawled out on your furniture. Like he had always belonged there. This was your home but his presence filled the place. Fuck, what you would give for him to fill you instead. Before you could fall even deeper down that rabbit hole of attraction, he greeted you as only he would.

"So are you gonna pour us a drink or are those just for show?"

You felt the heat rise in your face and you could only imagine the color of your cheeks as he let his eyes work their way from the whiskey in your hands to the rest of your body. "Sure thing. Gimme a sec. And I said to get comfortable, not scuff up my table with your big dirty boots, ass." His little laugh was warm and kind despite your attitude. A few drinks, some light conversation, a couple of shared nervous laughs and glances...before you knew it, it was getting late. A nice buzz enveloped you as you excused yourself.

"Not so fast, doll. Where do you think you're going?"

The look in his eyes made you weak. You couldn't tell if it was the slow burn of the whiskey or the equally smoldering quality in his tone that made you blush. "Sorry, blue eyes. I gotta go get ready. You don't want me missing my own welcome party, do you? Behave while I go get dressed," you giggled. That laugh, innocent and a clear give away to your inebriation, was enough to cause his desire to come bubbling over.

He was one sip of whiskey past the point of being calm and he needed you. He quickly made his way behind you, grabbing your hips and leaning in to whisper in your ear...

"You should know by now, behaving is not something I do, hopefully, you can behave like a pretty little thing you are. Now let's get into that cute little room of yours and you're going to get changed. Slip out of those clothes and give me a nice show."

With those words, he gave your neck a few light kisses making sure to let his lips trail your skin before pushing you lightly towards the room. You were a warm mix of goosebumps and giggles. You were going to give this man anything he asked for, do everything that left his mouth before even finishing his sentences.

This was happening and you wondered why it hadn't happened sooner. The look in his eyes was ravenous and you were ready and willing to let him feast. The second you both made your way into the bedroom, your body was against the wall; his own body covering yours once more. This time, however, there was no battle, no rush, and the only dangerous thing in the room was the man staring you down with lust in his eyes and whiskey on his tongue.

You began unbuttoning your blouse and it was as if he couldn't pepper your skin with kisses fast enough. His lips worked every inch that was exposed as you tilted your head back and practically ripped your shirt the rest of the way off. The blouse fell behind you as Dabi's teeth lightly grazed your neck.

His left hand made its way up to the clasp on the front of your bra. He looked down unhooking it with ease as your breath hitched in your lungs. He let his lips and tongue playfully work down from your neck to your now exposed breasts. His bottom lip was about to glide over your nipple when he suddenly stopped and looked at you with that wicked half-smile.

He grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. His original intention was to make it quick but the two of you were swept away in the burning taste of cheap whiskey and overwhelming desire. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands softly glided through his hair and over his scarred cheek.

With a final soft bite to your bottom lip, he pulled away. "Is everything okay?" The aura about him had changed to something far more dominant and primal.

"I said put on a show, babe. So let's see it."

He sat back on the bed as he looked over your figure. You couldn't tell if his stare was more anticipatory or predatory but either way, you were soaked and dying for his skin against yours. You turned around and looked back at him with a dark and coy smirk before facing away.

You slid your hands down your body until they made their way to the zipper on the back of your skirt. As the small metal tab fell, Dabi bit his lip and felt something else rise up. You placed your hands on the wall above your head and spread your legs lightly.

You gave your hips a little shake and the skirt fell to the floor. Turning around to face him, you ran your thumbs across your hips and into the waistband of your panties. You teasingly lowered them barely an inch. His eyes lit up. That's when you snapped the band and let the panties back up. Slinking towards him, you placed yourself between his legs with your arms around his neck. "I think you should take these off...Don't want to have all the fun to myself."

"I thought you'd never ask, babe. But you'd look better in these. Why don't we change things up a bit?"

With that, he picked up the little black panties from the outfit laid out on your bed. You blushed. Now you were wondering what else he had seen. As you took them from his hand, you noticed something felt off about them. Your fingers slid across the slick and sticky substance that was still warm. Suddenly it hit you and felt your own temperature rise. "Dabi did you..."

"I said...put them on....go on."

His voice was deceptively calm but inside he was on a one-way track and there was no stopping him tonight. His cock was literally aching to be inside and the thrill of seeing you slide those panties on, getting you nice and coated with his cum before he had even entered you; It drove him right over the edge.You shyly slipped off your panties and began to put the others on. You stopped with them about halfway up. "Babe, I dunno. Is this really...."

"Looks like you need a little help."

Before you could blink, he had come right up to you and pulled the cum soaked panties the rest of the way up. You barely had time to catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of his lips so close to you when he began to run his fingers over your clothed slit and press his still warm fluids closer inside you. When he heard a small moan escape your lips and felt the silk against his fingers go from dampened by his own doing to soaked with your juices, he knew he had you.

He let his fingers slide past the fabric and past your folds trailing his sticky cum along them. He dipped two fingers into your cunt, pushing his cum into you, picking up the gushing out liquid each time it dared to drip out of you.

With just two minutes of that, he was throbbing and you were crying out, begging to feel him inside you, begging to get a fresh coat of cum in your greedy pussy.

"All fours, on the bed...Now."

With a firm slap to your ass, you did just as you were told. Only, he didn't get behind you like you were expecting. No. After quickly undressing himself, he stood before you hard and ready. Your jaw dropped and you were about to tell him how bad you needed it but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes.

"You're gonna be a good girl and get me nice and wet before I let you feel this cock filling you up and stretching that pretty pink pussy of yours. Do you understand?''

You nodded as he moved his hand to the back of your head and the other to the base of his cock. He guided you forward and you let your tongue gingerly trace the veins of his shaft before wrapping your lips around. With every pulse of his hips, you would play with his tip and graze it with your soft tongue before taking him all the way into the back of your throat.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. A few expletives left his lips as you let out soft moans and began to drool, his length becoming a bit too much to handle. Your mouth became a sloppy mess, his cock twitching each time your throat tightened around him. He could feel himself getting warmer and dizzier, the sight of you splattering around his length, your eyes watery and your hands struggling to keep you up made it unbearable for him to hold for much longer.

You can feel the mess dripping onto the sheets as you rub your thighs together.

He slides out of your mouth with a small pop and runs his thumb across your lips glistening with spit. The look you gave each other said enough as you arched your back and he made his way behind you.

His earlier fantasy was becoming a reality as he put one hand firmly on your hip and used the other to slide his tip up and down your warm and aching lips. He let go of both just long enough to grip the sides of your panties and burn them clean off. He yanked away the remaining fabric and lined himself up with your quivering entrance.

"Is this what you want, gorgeous? Hm? Do you need it?"

"Yes! Please Dabi! Fuck! I need it.C'mon.Please." And with your final desperate cries...he did just that. His every inch slid into you just right. His cock twitched as soon as he bottomed out, his hips jerking into you out of instinct.

He was the only man you knew who could pound your pussy so ruthlessly while his hands still explored your body so sweetly. it was intoxicating, addictive. You needed more. You needed him. Despite him holding your hips down, you managed to sway your hips just right, meeting his thrusts one by one.

He watched you gasp and loose balance, dropping on your forearms as you buried your head into the cushion. He admired the way your pussy took him so well, his cock disappearing all the way in and then coming back out. He was hazed, forgetting how much time passed as he plowed in and out of you, the intoxicating rhythm putting a strain on his muscles as he couldn't have it in him to slow down.

You were a teary mess, whines and cries coming from your sore throat as you begged for him to make you cum.

With another hard slap across your ass and more praise for the way you took him so well...that was it. You couldn't take it anymore. He was pounding that spongey spot just right and his hands were sending shivers through you. You couldn't hold back anymore and he could tell. You were clenching down on him as he continued to slide in and out. He grabbed you by the waist, towering over your back as he held your body flush to his.

His pace deep and more meaningful, his cock dragging along your velvety walls that were squeezing him of every drop he had left. The feeling of him throbbing as his warm cum painted your insides white threw you over the edge, your legs shaking as he continued with small ruts into your shivering cunt.

You were breathless, smiling, and spent. To your surprise, so was he. His blue eyes half lidded and his breathing ragged.

He carefully slid out of you and you both fell back into the mattress. After taking a moment to appreciate his sweat sheened body you sheepily asked, "Soooo...about the party...?"

"Yeah, yeah. It was great, wasn't it? Now shut up and come here," he said teasingly, welcoming you into his arms.

You're not sure when you fell asleep with your head on his chest or how you ended up with this man in your bed but you were happy to sleep in that day, your body already hooked on the warmth of his embrace, begging for it to not be just for this one night.

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So that was a wild ride, the backstory about this one is kinda long but i'll keep it as short as possible.

One day this lady jumped into my dm's (a few moths ago) requesting a Dabi x Reader x Overhaul fic.

Hovewer I didn't exactly get to it yet, but we continued talking throughout the months, her mentioning how she would love to start writing but was too scared of messing something up.

So we came up with a rough idea about dabi jerking off in the reader's panties and it went uphill from there!! Drafts and drafts, massages and thirsts we collabed on this and ended up with this little 4k word thing. So taking all of this into consideration, if you liked this spicy fic go give a follow to @issamomma the mentioned lady and a wonderful woman and now my dear friend.

Like,comment and reblog with ideas you might want the two us to collab on again. Hope you loved it and enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

___________

requests:closed

commissions:open

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[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter One - Disclosure

A/N: This was supposed to be a Jax x Fem!OC fanfic, but it took a little turn as I started to write more of it. So, it’ll be Tig x Fem!OC, but Jax does play a very important role in this.

SUMMARY: A sick turn of events sees Isla Telford thrown in at the deep end, battling to govern the sudden pressures of all that her father's club decidedly bestow upon her.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of murder, the guy that got his ass shit is in this one. Jax and Tig get their own warnings, too, for obvious reasons.

The older I get, the more I realize that age doesn't bring wisdom. It only brings weary.

John Teller was always so astute.

His judicious character befell his son, too. Jax had that same perceptive nature as his old man--everyone would comment on that.

To Isla, it was admirable. For Jackson Teller to be a man of such stature--to hold such a reputation--and to remain somewhat level-headed through it all, was only something she could commend.

She'd seen many of her father's friends crumble under the pressure of Samcro, unable to balance the weight of living with the responsibility and commitment to the club, and meet their unfortunate demise--in some not-so extreme cases.

But Jax was different. He'd always been different.

Maybe that wasn't so great, however.

"You're fucking insane, Isla."

"Not insane." She mumbled, sifting through the box of shitty medical supplies that Gemma had left atop the pool table last night.

"Just trying to patch this shit up so Hayes doesn't kick the fucking bucket before Jax gets back here."

Tig snarled. "But it might be infected, and the bullet is still in this dude's ass--"

Isla whipped her head to glare at the man, her eyes wide, forehead slick with sweat--and a little blood, too.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Isla--"

"Tig, with all due respect, unless you're gonna help, please get the fuck outta here."

"That's not gonna suffice," he pointed out, referring to the medical tape, ignoring her scolding.

She wanted to throttle him. Truly, Isla was willing to wrap her crimson-coated fingertips around Tig's neck and squeeze the absolute life out of that man.

"I know." Her lips kneaded together in frustration, watching her father dab an alcohol-infused pad on the wound. "But unless you've got any better ideas, then we're just gonna have to keep reapplying this shit."

"But the infection, Isla."

"But the lack of medical equipment, Tig."

He slapped his palm against the table and glared at her, pointedly. "Why've you gotta be such a bitch all the time, huh?"

"Watch it, Trager." Piqued, Chibs growled.

"I'm not a bitch all the time," she dismissed her father, wiping at her palm with a wet rag. "I'm actually able to control the way I act around other people."

"Oh, fuck you--"

"Christ!"

The Scot's yell was muffled by the cap of his whiskey bottle, his hand pressing against Cameron's skin as the man screamed into the cloth Isla had placed underneath his head.

"God, for fucks sake, both of you just pack it in."

"Chibs--"

"Shut the fuck up. You're a fucking geriatric and you're spending your morning bickering with an almost thirty-year-old. Grow up, Tig."

Despite laughing at his comment, and enjoying the irritation wash over the other man's face, she felt bad.

For riling her father up--who was simply trying to help the innocent Irishman caught in the literal crossfire--she felt fucking awful. Especially because he never seemed to get mad at her all too often.

Tig, though...That was a different story entirely.

"I'm gonna go see if Clay has any more shit lying 'round here." She declared, throwing a damp towel onto the table, backing out of the room.

Her heart was in her throat, stomach in damn knots. Isla wasn't confident that Cameron was going to make it--not with such a deep wound.

And in his ass, too? Jesus. She wasn't confident at all.

Of course, she'd seen men get shot. Her own father, for one. But she hadn't seen somebody have to go so long without actual medical attention.

Chibs was ex-army med, but there was only so much a man could've done with a bottle of liquor, gauze, and a towel.

She was relieved that the bullet hit Cameron and not Clay, though. As sick as it sounded, she was so fucking glad that he'd managed to dodge the line of fire--initially intended for his own skull--and come out completely unscathed.

But for every ounce of relief she'd felt, an even more fervid sense of anger prevailed at the thought of Jax taking so damn long with those medical supplies he'd sought to get last night.

Gemma mentioned something about heading to the hospital--or a friend's house, or something--but Isla wasn't paying any mind to the woman as she, and Chibs, were trying all ways to stop the bleeding coming from Cameron's ass cheek.

It was the most bizarre turn of events she'd ever experienced.

One minute, Isla was sipping on a glass of wine while she eagerly awaited the spirited ping of her tiny microwave oven, ready to spend a rare--though well fucking deserved--night alone.

However, things took a drastic turn when she received a call from Tig--on behalf of a very busy Chibs--casually requesting her assistance because the Mayans had tried to assassinate Clay.

But Tig failed to mention that the man was completely fine.

She'd spent fifteen minutes on the way over mentally preparing herself, wondering what hell she'd walk into when she set foot into the clubhouse. But it was normal--strangely so.

Isla wasn't a professional, she didn't exactly know how to handle such a trauma, but she trusted her father and she just wanted to make sure he had a helping hand.

God knows that Tig wouldn't have been very much use, and Juice was a little nervous--though, he was doing incredibly well throughout the ordeal regardless of his internal apprehension.

"How's it looking?" Gemma threw at Isla, getting to her feet.

"Bloody."

She quickly scanned the room, taking in the uncomfortably sparse bar. It wasn't usually so empty, so quiet.

Clay, Gemma, and Juice. That was it. Not even Piney--not even Epps.

"Is he doing okay?"

It was still early in the day, though. She guessed that they'd pop in once they properly came around.

"He's better than he was last night." The brunette nodded. "Dad is certain the laceration is gonna get infected if we leave it any longer without trying to get the bullet out--"

"You've gotta wait 'til Jax gets back here, Isla, we can't risk Hayes dying on us."

"I know, Clay. He's just fucking tired--he's been up all night. We need a real medic on the scene before something bad happens. It's only a matter of time."

He mumbled something to himself that only Gemma seemed to catch, but Isla didn't particularly give a damn at that point. Like Chibs, she was exhausted.

The tattered and torn plaid shirt she had thrown over a random tank top--now smeared with another man's blood--was wrenched between her fingers as she pulled it off, folding it not-so-neatly.

She hadn't dealt with such a bloody wound in a while. Not since her mother's palm, decorated with shards of glass, was in dire need of stitches and her father was across the country, unable to offer his medical assistance.

"I'll grab one of Jax's shirts for you--"

"No, Gemma, it's okay," she smiled, taking a seat on one of the couches opposite her.

The older woman pinched her eyebrows together skeptically, watching Isla shift. "I insist."

"It's fine." Isla was adamant. "I'm gonna head home as soon as Jax gets back here--if he gets back here--so, really, it's fine."

A minimal amount of already dried blood was spread over her wrists and fingers, and the excess had been rubbed off on her crimson flannel, so she didn't particularly feel bad about making any mess.

Though, she shouldn't have felt bad. Not after she'd been coerced into helping and eventually receiving that shitty reception from Tig.

"Aren't you cold?" She questioned, waiting for Isla to capitulate, but she never did.

The thought of wearing one of Jax's shirts--after it being given to her by his fucking mother--didn't sit right with her for some reason. Plus, she didn't particularly feel like walking out of that building wearing the damn reaper on her back.

She didn't want to flaunt their patch. Not any more than she already had been for the last ten years.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Clay glared at the clock on the wall, realizing they'd been without the Vice President for hours. In an attempt to put him at ease, Gemma ran a hand along his shoulder.

Isla could only watch them--admire, perhaps.

"He told us he was gonna swing by Tara's place for the equipment. But that was last night, man." Juice shrugged, circling the lip of his beer bottle with his thumb.

She felt her throat thicken with a sick sense of trepidation. She hadn't heard that name in years.

"Tara?" She stuttered, feeling Gemma's piercing glare.

The woman hated Jax's first love, though she never said it aloud. Isla knew her perception of her, however, and she'd started to feel the exact same as the years went on.

Bitch.

"Yeah, y'know, Tara Knowles--"

Her heart sank--fuck that, it dove straight to the deep caverns of her chest, throbbing away into nothing. Until she felt completely void of all emotion. Completely fucking numb.

"I know her, Juice." Her response came hastily, snappy. "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect you to say that."

He shrugged it off. "It's alright. I wasn't expecting her to be back in town, either. I thought you already knew."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Isla's head shook.

The crow situated at the bottom of her spine began to smolder, blistering away at her skin until she physically flinched.

It was a brilliant idea at the time, getting a matching tattoo with Jax's old lady--the one woman she truly adored and trusted, never once feeling an ounce of malice toward.

Because that was a rare thing for Isla, and she wanted their friendship--and relation to Samcro--to prevail for eternity, she supposed.

But as time went on and Tara decided to distance, and eventually alienate, herself from the club, an ample sense of regret persisted for fucking months.

Isla loathed her ink. She hated the negative connotation of the crow she once lauded, and the mere idea of that thing being slapped above her ass forever churned her stomach.

It wasn't one of her finest moments, she had to admit. But she was young and extremely fucking dumb. She'd bet top dollar that Tara felt the same--if she hadn't gotten the crow covered up already.

"Jesus, Jax, where were you?!"

Her eyes flicked upward, attention on the blonde as he sauntered across the wooden floor of the bar.

She hadn't even noticed his presence until Clay spoke, but she soon started to heed how Jax was trembling a bit with every step that he took.

It wasn't obvious. To most people, the slight shake of his wrist would've gone completely unnoticed. But to Isla--to the most observant woman in Charming--his discomfort was striking.

Jax ignored him, stomping his way toward the back room. His line of sight never satisfied Isla's. It didn't even come close to it, either.

Something had happened. It was obvious that, in the time he had been with Tara, he'd encountered something grizzly enough to chill him to the bone.

Which was saying something, what with the horrific shit that he'd already seen in his time.

"Jax!" Clay yelled, following closely behind him. "Hey, asshole, where the fuck did you put the bag--"

"I've got it."

If she had the option, Isla would've allowed the floor to swallow her fucking whole.

"Tara." Pissed, Gemma acknowledged. "You're here because?"

"I asked her to help, mom."

"But Chibs had it covered. He just needed some actual instruments--"

"Gemma, quit it."

She simply nodded at her son, not wanting to cause another problem that she'd have to fix later--which, honestly, Isla was shocked to see.

"He's in there--"

"I know." Jax cut her short, ushering Tara to the back of the clubhouse--striving to get her into the room before she heeded Isla.

But she did.

The first person she clocked--aside from Clay--was Isla Telford, the woman she had purposely alienated herself from ten fucking years ago.

It wasn't anything that she'd particularly done to Tara, more like the crowd she ran with--and the way her loyalties never seemed to lay very closely to her friends, or anything outside of the club.

Isla wasn't a part of Samcro--she didn't want to be a part of Samcro--but her coalition was strong enough to convince anybody that she was more than merely a daughter of a Sgt. at Arms.

She had been brought up around the Sons--her father's choice, of course--and when her mother passed, she had no choice but to dive a little bit deeper into that world. But, as expected, it was constantly under the watchful eye of her old man.

She was dedicated to them. They were, essentially, family, and she was an honorary member.

"Isla." Jax mumbled, nodding his head toward the entrance of the clubhouse as he closed the back-door. "Outside."

He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his leather vest, shaking the box as he strived to seem a little less suspicious to Clay and his mother.

The blonde wobbled to her feet--knees weak after hours of standing--while simultaneously pulling her bloodied flannel back onto svelte, freckled arms, recognizing that the chill was to hit her the second she stepped onto the gravel.

Jax was casual while he strutted ahead, taking long strides that Isla found fucking impossible to keep up with.

He pushed the door to close behind her, offering a cigarette that she hastily declined.

"What's she doing here?" Was how she decided to break the silence, her eyes searching for a hint of something written on his face.

But there was nothing. Not an ounce of emotion--scarily so.

"She's fixing Cameron up--"

"Not at the clubhouse, Jax. I meant back in Charming."

He ran a thumb across his lower lip, trying to soften his gaze on Isla, but it was futile. He looked discomposed--unsettled.

"She's uh--she's workin' at the hospital now." She started to nod, waiting for his elaboration. It never came, however.

"Oh, that's nice. I wonder what happened in Chicago...Do you know why she's back here? Or how long she's gonna be staying in town--"

"You sound like my fucking mother--give it a break with the thirty-seven questions about Tara, damnit."

He snarled, heeding the distaste of his words the second she glowered at him.

"Excuse you?"

"I didn't call you out here for a sweet little conversation, Isla, I called you 'cause I need your help--"

"With what?"

Jax's hand hooked onto the back of his neck while he tilted his head to look upward, thinking of a way--any fucking way--to explain just what damn mess he'd found himself entwined with over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

He didn't know what to say or how to say it--if he should've fucking said it. He trusted Isla with his life--always had--but sometimes he appreciated that she mightn't have appreciated finding herself tangled within Jax's boisterous, at times frightening, life.

But it was too late for that. She'd been dragged through the deepest shit and wasn't crumbling that easily.

"Jax--"

"Kohn." He stated simply, waiting for the cogs of her brain to begin turning.

"What about him? You got in trouble with the ATF or something? Because we can handle that--"

"I already did." Jax laughed humorlessly, finally meeting Isla's line of sight.

The skin underneath his eyes was red raw, blotchy and irritated after he had used the sleeve of his hoodie to scrub away the tears he'd shed.

The tears he hadn't wanted to shed, but had fallen freely--uncontrollably--from those cerulean hues Isla never tired of looking at.

"What do you mean by that?" Nervously, she quizzed.

He didn't even have to say anything. She fucking knew. She knew exactly what he meant by that, but there was a tiny morsel of something within her that hoped and prayed that he'd declare that her gut feeling was wrong.

But he couldn't. Because it was right. Like always, Isla's intuition didn't fail her.

"Jax, honey, what did you do--"

"I killed Kohn."

[mrs-cavill-wife]

Safe And Happy (One Shot)

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader (Barbara)

Warning: Language. Fluff. Minor Injury. Zombie Apocalypse. Gun shot. Persecution. Please, say if I miss something.

Author's Note: My second fanfic, YAY! Henry is not a celebrity in this fanfic. Duh! It's a zombie apocalypse so it's kinda obvious but I wanted to say it anyway. Hope you guys enjoy it and reblog if you do. I'm all ears to feedback!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Summary: The world is a dangerous place now, but in the arms of the man she loves, she always finds security.

Barbara's P.O.V

Shit. I miss when the world used to be good. It was never perfect but no doubt it were way better than now.

An zombie apocalypse, who could have imagined that this could actually happen? Who knew that one day I would be armed, with a "beautiful" wound on my leg, hiding in an abandoned store, running away from a horde of about fifty zombies, crazy and thirsty for some human flesh.

I got hurt entering here, there was a piece of wood that grazed my leg, but luckily I had some bandage on the bag, I tied it to my leg to stop the blood. I looked at my leg and sighed, frustrated with myself.

"What the fuck dressing did you do, huh? My man is going to be pissed"

I live with my boyfriend, well husband, wasn't exactly official but we are together, he's amazing with dressings, but of course, I never pay attention when he tried to explain it to me. I'm hiding, trying to calm my breathing and think of a new plan, I don't know if I'll be able to run with my leg like that, but I think partially, it's really my fault. I'm often on those situations, I have my skills but I might not be the best, I still remember when I meet my boyfriend, on this type of shit cliche situation, today I don't complain for being dumb back there..

We met a year ago, I was running away.. again. I remember going into a dead end street, my gun had only two bullets left, I managed to kill some of those brain eaters, but I had about ten still behind me. I was already out of breath and couldn't think of anything else.

It was all very fast, suddenly my hero appeared, super skilled, I can't say where he came from but he managed to cut the heads of some of them, cut one in half, he stopped in front of me and fired with a super powerful machine gun, spilling a little blood and a disgusting substance on both of us.

"Hey are you alright, princess?"

He spoke to me after all those butchers fell dead. I was in shock but in seconds, I regained consciousness and was able to notice the man in front of me.

Broad back, fair skin, incredibly neat curly hair, a sharp jawline that could cut my soul, kissable lips.. a beautiful ax, a weapons in the waistband and at least two powerful shotguns in the back. The sun was setting and the light reflected in his eyes. The brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. There was a small brown part in one of them, I had heard about cases of heterochromia, but it was the first time that I saw it right in front of me.

"Your eyes are so beautiful.."

He laughed softly and a little shy. The sweetest laugh I've heard. Oh God, he's so wonderful, I think I died and went to heaven and that angel came to receive me. Maybe I'm not too unlucky after all.. wait, what did I just said? Oh fuck, what a good way of cause a first impression. First you almost die then act like a dumb ass needy teen. I rolled my eyes realizing what I done and he touched my arm.

"Thank you, you're beautiful too.. but are you hurt? What are you doing all by yourself?"

I nodded looking down and blushing red like a tomato.

"Huh I'm fine. I was searching for a place to stay. I heard on radio there was a small group of survivors around here. I'm always alone, so I decided to look for it but I obviously didn't payed attention on the munition I had before risking my butt."

He giggled and soft touched my cheek, wiping away some of the dirty. Gosh, I'm not going to handle and he's not making it easy..

"So it's your lucky day, pretty girl. I am from that group of survivors. They always told me to go round and look for possible new survivors."

I looked at him frowning.

"Now it's my time to ask. All by yourself? Why?"

And he smirked, looking like a made a silly question. Your hot bastard.

"I'm a prepared person. Not bragging but I always check my munition"

Touchee. I crossed my arms looking at him, trying to keep my posture but I was really melting inside.

We heard a loud noise, making us concerned. He grabbed my hand and started walking.

"It doesn't seem far, we must walk. Let's go"

"Where are you taking me? I.. I don't even know your name?"

I stopped moving and he stopped looking a little mad then he sighed.

"I will take you to our shelter. I saved you, you can trust me. We both need a bath and some rest.. and I'm Henry."

He said smiling and I nodded starting to walk by his side.

That day, he took me to the survivors. There were at least four people, some couples and children, all of whom welcomed me very well. But despite that, I thought about leaving the next day, I was always alone and until then, it was how I wanted to be and I would be like this today, if Henry hadn't insisted that I stay. I said I would stay for some days but during that, he convinced me to stay for more weeks and when I realized, we were closer than ever. Actually, those days made me found love. One of the guys of the shelter was a priest before the world was destroyed, Henry and I decided to get married and so it happened. Simple but a beautiful ceremony.

After a few years, we both decided to leave, maybe it was not a smart idea in the current situation, but we were certain of it, so we did. It was difficult, at first from hiding to hiding, sleeping on uncomfortable places, sometimes without enough food for both, we almost died a few times but together, yes, we were unbeatable. But finally, we got a place, safe enough to call home.

Henry's P.O.V

One hour left. I trust her, she's a little clumsy but my girl knows what to do, I taught her some tricks when we met but still, my heart is desperate. Today I received a radio message, it was Stuart, a partner, we have known each other since I was part of a group of survivors, he provided us with food, ammunition and weapons from time to time, even now that I am no longer part of the group, he's a great friend. I always went to get it, alone, I didn't want to risk seeing my Barbara hurt. But today, Stuart said he couldn't come, because of some injuries, so I would have to go, but Barbara decided that her chance to do it this time.

"Barbara.. baby, you don't have to.."

I remember I said trying don't sound like I was doubting her capacities.

"Well on my mind, I do need. You always do that, I feel useless, I'm no princess in danger, i can do that"

I got closer touching her back while she packed her bag with "travel" supplies. She looked at me, touched my face and smiled. I love this smile.

"I'll be alright, I know that area is dangerous but you know I know the way and I had a good survivor teacher"

She said and wrapped her arms around my neck and I hugged her feeling defeated. She never had to say much to convince me of anything. I know she was feeling bad about me doing the hard work and I think she deserves a chance. I need to show I really trust her.

"I will be counting the seconds.."

I sighed and she smiled widely packing my lips many times. She grabbed her bag, her gun and went through the door but before leaving she looked at me one last time.

"I love you"

We both said at same time, making our hearts beat at same rhythm.

She gonna be alright, I know.. at least I hope.

Barbara's P.O.V

I heard a small noise that made me wake up. I dozed off for a while when I expected the horde to calm down and preferably leave. I got up and checked outside by one of the windows. Empty. Thank God. My leg didn't hurt so much anymore, but the fact that the street was clean was a relief to m. I wouldn't have to run, just be careful.

I opened my bag and ate a chocolate bar. Stuart wasn't lying when he said that had good things this time, I got things I hadn't ete in years. I left the store quickly after eating and started walking my way back home.

I was almost closer, I smiled seeing my home. Finally, safe house. when I got on the home's street, had three zombies, between me and my house. Great.

I tried to carefully pass behind them, I was almost there, but again, I didn't pay enough attention, I tripped over something and fell to the floor, over my injured leg, I couldn't contain the scream. They heard and were already walking towards me. F U C K M E.

I looked at my house. It's not so far, I can do it. I ran, fast as I could, my leg was hurting a lot, the bandage already red with my blood but I did it. I could climb the special secret passage through the wall and done. I layed in the grass for a second trying to recover my breath, closing my eyes, finally feeling safe then something fell on top of me. I got scared until I could open my eyes. A beast. A fluffy beast.

"Hey Kal, you scared me baby"

I hugged the big black and white American Akita. It's mine and Henry's dog, our loyal companion, our dog son. We found him on our away to find a new safe place, he were a little injured on the front paws. Of course we felt in love with him and took care of him, we had to keep him and we did.

I petted him a little more before getting up.

"Alright, mommy needs a good break now. Promise to play later. Where's daddy? He had a heart attack?"

Oh he will when see my situation. I walked to inside our house and pulled the food supplies on the kitchen. I was focused until I hear the shower on bathroom upstairs. I smiled.

"What a good way of relax, huh?"

I walked upstairs, taking off my clothes though the way. When I opened the bathrooms door, I was fully naked. Oh that vision. My man, all naked.. that furry defined abs, those strong muscles.. that round booty.. and that big veiny dick, shit, even soft he's huge.. I'm so freaking lucky.

I licked my lips and tried to close the door softly but i ended up making noises.

"Thought I had told you need to be stealthy"

When I turned around, he was looking at me, with those gorgeous eyes that left me speachless since first time. Then he's face changed to worried and I realized he were looking at my wounded leg.

"Barbara, what the fuck just happened?"

I rolled my eyes then got into the shower with him. Before he could say something, I kissed him softly. He kissed me back of some type of way that I could feel how worried he were. Was a intense kiss, our tongues battling against each other, oxygen wasn't this necessary for us at this point. He quickly grabbed me tight and gave me a little boost then I had my legs wrapped around his waist. We ended our kisses with soft pecks and smiles. I looked at him. He had one hand around my back and another softly rubbing closer my wound.

"Hey are you alright, princess?"

I smiled way more with his soft voice and nodded.

"Yes, now I'm safe and happy"

[t0wnspersonb]

Just wanted to let you know your writing is AMAZING. dunno if you take requests or not but if you do I'd love one of protective kuroo, kind of like the akaashi fic you did! I know you just did a kuroo one (which was also amazing, I loved it) but I'm a kuroo girl so i can't get enough haha

Thank you so much for the kind words! I am taking requests on top of the other stuff I’m writing:) everyone is low key a Kuroo girl and if someone disagrees with that they can fight me lmao just kidding! But here you go! I hope you enjoy the story:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hummed softly to yourself as you watched your legs swing back and forth, the bench you were sitting on kept your feet off the ground.

 You looked around and sighed softly, Kuroo was running late. 

 It had been a long time since you guys had gone on a date, he was busy preparing for the Spring Tournament, and you were busy with your extra college prep courses.

 So when he had suggested going to the amusement park that recently opened up, you definitely couldn’t refuse. 

 You were waiting in front of the entrance for Kuroo to arrive, considering he was the one who had bought the tickets.

 “Y/n!” you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend call out. You looked up to see him waving an arm in the air, smiling at you. Behind him you saw Kenma grumbling to himself as he stuffed his hands further into the hoodie he was wearing.

 Your lips twitched in amusement. That was probably why he was late.

 “Hi Kenma!” you said brightly once they reached you, wrapping the second year in a tight hug.

 “Hi Y/n.” he mumbled quietly, softly returning the hug. 

 “Oi! Why does Kenma get a hug before your boyfriend?” Kuroo grumbled, an annoyed expression taking over his features.

 “Because Kenma wasn’t the one who was late.” you retorted, sticking out your tongue. 

 He huffed angrily and reached a hand out to grab you away from the setter, only for you to slap his hand away, continuing to cling to the pudding haired male.

 “Damn you Kenma!” 

 “Be quiet Kuroo.” Kenma sighed. “I didn’t even want to go. You dragged me out of the house.”

 “That’s because if I didn’t you’d be stuck inside all day playing video games. It’s good to have fun once in a while.” Kuroo stated simply, finally pulling you away from his teammate and into his arms.

 “Playing video games is fun Kuroo.” Kenma shot back, taking out his phone. “Besides, isn’t this supposed to be a date? Why would you have me tag along? You and Y/n haven’t spent much time together recently.” he glanced up looking between the two of you.

 You had forgotten about your annoyance towards Kuroo for being late now that you were wrapped up in his arms. Right now you were incredibly content as you leaned against his tall form.

 “It’ll be fun Kenma! I haven’t seen you much either. Let’s go enjoy the park together!” You said happily.

 You had known the two boys since you were in middle school, and quite frankly once you had started dating Kuroo you kind of expected Kenma to be there half the time. They were a package deal, and you honestly didn’t mind, sometimes preferring the quiet second year’s presence more than your boyfriend’s.

 Kenma sighed in defeat and trailed after you guys as you made the way to the counter to hand in your tickets.

 Once you guys were actually inside the park Kenma seemed to have perked up just a bit.

 You talked animatedly towards Kuroo about what you wanted to do for the day. Your hands intertwined together as you spoke.

 You hadn’t noticed the soft gaze that came over the tall third year. Kuroo couldn’t help but to stare at you. It had definitely been too long since the last time you guys got to be together. He missed you terribly. He missed the ridiculous facial expressions that came over your face when you were talking, he missed the way you pouted whenever he teased you, he missed the way you would play with your long hair whenever you were nervous. 

 Fuck, he just missed you entirely. He felt guilty about how busy he was with the volleyball club, feeling like he was being a terrible boyfriend for neglecting you for so long.

 But you understood completely, you knew how important volleyball was to him and you just wanted to be able to give him unconditional love and support. 

 Plus, those extra courses were brutal. While you loved spending time with Kuroo, you also knew how incredibly distracting he was during homework. So you were grateful for the time apart to get everything done.

 “Do you guys want food?” Kuroo asked, staring at the food stalls. You guys had finished riding the thrill rides, and playing most of the game stalls at the park. 

 You were having a wonderful time, and there were those rare moments where you saw Kenma smiling to himself, he had the most fun playing the stall games, and he was actually pretty good at it. He had won the majority of the prices that were now in your grasp. Much to Kuroo’s distaste. 

 But Kuroo had won you a black cat plushy. Despite the frustration he felt at only being able to win you the small stuffed animal, the look on your face was worth it. 

 He had never seen anything more beautiful; the way your eyes lit up and the wide smile that stretched across your face. It was definitely worth it. Especially when you declared that the cat’s name was going to be Tetsu. 

 While Kuroo went off to go get food, you and Kenma found a place to sit. “You’re really good at those shooting games Kenma.” You stated, sitting across from the quiet male.

 He looked up at you from his phone and smiled slightly. “It’s not that hard, it’s just like some of the video games I play.”

 “I suck at video games.” you sighed, frowning slightly. “Tetsuro always makes fun of me because of it.”

 “I know.”

 “Don’t be mean.” you pouted. Kenma laughed slightly at your expression before closing his phone and standing up. 

“I’m going to the restroom real quick, are you going to be okay by yourself?” Kenma asked.

 You waved him off as you settled down into your seat. You would be fine, this was an amusement park afterall. Nothing bad ever happened at these kinds of places right?

 You were wrong.

 You were definitely wrong about that statement. 

 It had only been a couple of minutes of being alone before an arm draped over your shoulders. 

 You stiffened and looked to see a guy around your age sitting next to you. His friend sitting  across from you.

 “What’s a cute girl like you sitting all alone for? Did your boyfriend leave you?” he teased. 

 You frowned, shifting your body away from the male. “No. He went to go get us food.” 

 “Where? I don’t see him.” his friend said looking around halfheartedly. “Why don’t you come hang out with us?”

 You glanced around to see that people weren’t paying attention to the uncomfortable situation you were in. 

 And Kuroo and Kenma were still gone…

 “No thanks. I suggest you leave before my boyfriend gets here.” you said dryly, crossing your arms over your chest. A hard expression covering your face.

 “Oh come on, don’t be like that.” the one that was sitting next to you cooed, shifting closer to you and grabbing your chin. “We can show you a real good time…”

 You flinched away from his touch, fear and annoyance overtaking your body. 

 While you didn’t tolerate being talked to this way, it was still incredibly scary considering that you were outmatched right now.

You ignored the feeling of dread sinking deep within your stomach and was about to start telling off the two males when a tray full of food was slammed down in front of you, causing you to jump in fright.

 “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to my girlfriend?” 

 You had never seen Kuroo so pissed before. His cat-like eyes were piercing as they glared down at the unwelcomed males. His expression was dark and angry. 

 It was a frightening image to behold.

 Behind the angry and towering male was Kenma. His eyes watching the two males with a calculating expression before flickering over to you, walking from around Kuroo he stood next to you, carefully pressing his hand against your elbow and tugging you gently away from the table. 

 Kuroo’s eyes briefly moved to yours checking to make sure you were okay and not hurt before moving back to the males that were beginning to look frightened.

 Kuroo’s confrontation finally brought other eyes to your area, the people around you looking on which made the harassers even more nervous.

 “Do you two losers usually go around touching girls that don’t want to be touched?” Kuroo asked coldly, this caused an eruption of whispers to take place around you guys, older adults getting ready to step into the situation.

 “How about I show you guys a good time…” he said darkly, cracking the knuckles of his right hand.

 You have never seen boys run away as fast as they just did. 

 You released the breath you had apparently been holding during that encounter. You watched Kuroo’s expression go from dark and cold to loving and worried as he turned his attention to you.

 “You okay doll?” he asked gently cupping your face. 

 You nodded softly. “Y-Yeah. Let’s eat. I don’t want this to ruin our day.” you smiled slightly.

Kuroo stared at you for a moment before nodding slowly. He shared a pointed look with Kenma but didn’t press the matter further.

 You were definitely not okay.

 **********

 All too soon the day had ended. You and Kuroo found yourselves outside of your house.

 “Do you want to come in? My parents won’t be home until later tonight.” you said quietly.

 “Oya? Are you trying to seduce me Y/n-chan?” Kuroo smirked leaning down towards you.

 You flushed brightly, slapping his chest. “Shut up Tetsuro. Do you want to come in or not?”

 He laughed loudly at your embarrassed face. “Fine. Fine.”

 You rolled your eyes as you guys stepped into your house. It wasn’t the first time Kuroo had been to your home, he immediately made himself comfortable as he went upstairs to your bedroom.

 “I feel gross. Will you be fine out here if I go shower?” you asked, setting down the prizes you had gotten at the park.

 Kuroo dismissed you as he picked up one of your comics you had laying around, making himself comfortable on top of your bed. You rolled your eyes as you left to the bathroom after grabbing a change of clothes.

 Kuroo felt his phone buzz in his pocket. 

 Don’t leave Y/n alone tonight. She definitely wasn’t okay after what had happened. Kenma texted.

 Kuroo frowned and glanced towards the closed bedroom door, he knew that you weren’t okay. If he was being honest, the rest of the day he was waiting for you to break down crying.

 Kuroo knew that you were a strong person, that was one of the many things he loved about you. But a situation like that, would leave anyone frightened. He noticed that too, the way you would jump slightly at his sudden touch, and the way that you would glance around worriedly.

 Of course he wasn’t going to leave you alone tonight. Before that had happened he had planned on coming over anyway, he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, and considering that tomorrow was the weekend, he thought it was the perfect time. 

 Kuroo didn’t notice you walk in until you plopped yourself on the bed, drying your damp hair.

 He smirked slightly as he took in your clothes, your soft legs were exposed due to the shorts you opted to wear to bed, and his familiar volleyball shirt hung down your body.

 “Did you steal that?” he teased, setting down the comic book. “I was wondering where that shirt went.”

 “Nooo…” you said, averting your eyes. “You left it here.”

 “Lying doesn’t suit your sweet face doll,” Kuroo drawled out, sitting up from the many pillows on your bed and clasping warm fingers around your wrist. “Who knew that my girlfriend was a thief.” he smirked and yanked you into his lap.

 You fell into him with a loud ‘oomph,’ your face squishing against his hard chest, and then you melted against him.

 Sighing softly to yourself, you shifted against him comfortably, straddling his hips as you wrapped your arms around his muscular shoulders, your head laying against his chest.

 Kuroo’s hands rested on your upper thighs carefully, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the skin.

 You both were quiet for a moment, just appreciating the comfort and warmth of being in each other’s arms.

 “You know, you don’t have to act tough around me right?” he said suddenly. “I know what happened earlier freaked you out.”

You stiffened and relaxed against his chest. Kuroo just knew you too well.

 “Yeah.” you said quietly. “I just didn’t want you to worry… and I didn’t want to ruin the day…”

 You remembered the way that guy had touched you so casually, and despite the shower you had taken, and the way you had all but scrubbed your skin raw, you still felt gross.

 Kuroo sighed, pushing you back slightly so he could stare at your face. “I already know that you’re a crybaby. Kenma does too. You’re forgetting that we’ve known each other since we were kids.” he said bluntly.

 You huffed angrily at his statement and whacked his chest with your palm, causing a wide smirk to appear on his face. “I’m not a crybaby!”

 “If you’re not feeling okay, it’s okay to tell us,” he finished, ignoring you completely. “It’s okay to tell me, because I’m always going to take care of you. Yeah?”

 The sincerity in his voice and the gentle expression on his handsome face caused you to blush. Your eyes moved away from his and settled on staring at his chin as you tried to get your racing heart under control.

 Your fingers played with his hair at the nape of his neck. The way you felt about Kuroo was indescribable, the admiration and adoration you had for the third year volleyball captain was too much. It felt like your heart was about to explode from how much you just loved him.

 “Thank you Tetsuro.” You said finally meeting his gaze. “I love you a lot.” you confessed.

 He smiled gently at you, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. “I love you too.”

 It was quiet for a moment as you rested your head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent.

 “If you want to thank me properly, you should take off your shirt. Well actually it’s my shirt.”

 ....

 “Shut up Tetsuro or I’ll tell Kenma."

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I A THIRSTY INTERLUDE

First time reader click here

Bun Bun at 2:30 AM posting: This is 110% pornography. I wrote that when I was feeling extra thirsty over Tony and his Nano suit so yeah... A bit of choking a bit of mild suit bondage. Daddy kink 👉🏻👈🏻🥺 BDSM themes. Humor & porn. Has minimal correlation with the story and can be read as standalone smut-shot. Inspired by this NSFW tik tok audio (headphones!).

"OH MY GOD, NO! NO, NO, SHIT, FUCK, NO!"

"Princess, what's wrong?" Steve's worried voice rang high in the kitchen, followed by an alarming clattering of the dishes against the sink. "Are you hurt?" He didn't even remark on my use of profanity, which meant I'd startled the Captain for sure. He appeared in the doorway ready to fight, run; his eyes immediately drawn to his shield in the corner.

"Only what's left of my dignity," I sighed.

"Oh, okay," He visibly sagged, tension leaving his voice and his body. "What happened?"

I inhaled several times, feeling heat creep up my neck and blossom on my cheeks. It took a lot, and I mean A LOT, to make me feel embarrassed enough to fumble my words and palm my face but that was exactly what I did. "Well, umm... Tony found a couple of thirst tweets. Mine, from my sophomore year. And uh, retweeted them." I thought I'd cleaned up my social media quite well, actually. My fingers twitched remembering manually sorting through thousands of posts. Apparently, my fingers weren't clever enough.

Steve snorted, evidently having had someone tell him what a thirst tweet was. He, however, did not understand the sheer mortification that I would be subjected to at the hands of Tony. And my classmates. And Peter, oh my God. Natasha and Wanda too, probably. And Loki.

I. Was. Toast.

"How bad was it?" Bucky piped up, finally having dealt with the mini laughter fit.

"Not worse than what you two get up to in the gym when you think nobody is home," I immediately retorted in hopes of avoiding teasing from the metal-armed man. He would take the chance, of course, he would.

"Oof, I'm sorry, doll," Bucky whistled sympathetically. And promptly pulled out his phone, to, what I assumed, see the offending social media posts for himself. I assumed correctly. Bucky was bent over laughing in no time - was it my doing or did Tony's own commentary on them that made the whole situation so hilarious to the gramps on steroids?

"I will light you on fire," I seethed but remained where I was standing. There was no point in doing anything about them now. Screenshots were probably already being saved on everybody's devices.

Steve peeped over his boyfriend's shoulder, chuckling. "You had a crush on Tony? That's embarrassing, doll." He had the audacity to give me an innocent smile before returning to his dishwashing.

"Punk, I don't know if - and I quote: Not to be That Girl™ - it's trademarked, by the way - but Tony Stark could hit it and quit it and I wouldn't even be mad - qualifies as a crush." Bucky pointed out, the sound of his voice being drowned out by Steve's guffaws. "And this one definitely does not qualify for it to be a romantic setting. Listen: I'm not a fucking bottom, okay?.. there are seventeen question marks. But, like, can Tony Stark choke me in one of his Iron Man suits - nine more question marks." Bucky joined his partner's laughter, unable to continue.

I was literally on fire. My face burned, my hands shook. I had the strongest urge to stick my index fingers in my ears and loudly yell "la-la-la" until both fossils ceased to roast me like I was some sort of holiday brisket. "I hate you. I will burn... The heart... Out of you," I seethed.

"O-oh, honey bu-un, da-arling..." I heard Tony's sing-song voice happily calling for me. Too happily. Not good.

I had literal seconds to get myself scarce out of this situation. I'd already avoided the dozen text messages, two calls in hopes the engineer would drop the topic and go back to his Big Bad Science Project. I had underestimated his persistent desire to cause chaos and his terrible, no-good sense of humor.

It was fun and games when we teamed up to prank our friends. I just never expected for the tables to be turned this way, y'know? Betrayal of the highest quality. The turntables had been turned - decidedly NOT in my favor.

In a brief moment of panicked clarity, I opened one of the empty bottom cabinets in the kitchen. It took some uncomfortable folding and maneuvering but I got myself inside and pressed the door shut seconds before his footsteps made the distinctive noise of sneakers on tile.

"Capsicle, Terminator," I heard Tony greet the two laughing supersoldiers. "Have you seen my Princess?"

I melted a little bit at the way Tony called me his, I won't lie.

"Nope," Bucky lied shamelessly.

"She's in the empty cabinet," Steve chuckled at the same time. Top 10 anime betrayals, right there.

"Wow - and I thought we were friends," Tony scoffed, I assumed at Bucky. My body tensed and I prepared to dial-up my puppy eyes to eleven. My hiding spot was wack.

The door was roughly tossed open, my eyes landing on Tony's oil-stained jeans. He crouched down, his brown eyes positively sparkling. The engineer's body radiated smug mischief, fingers twitching in anticipation.

"Sorry, Princess is unavailable right now. May I take a message?" I said, pulling on the cabinet door and fully prepared to slam it shut in his face. I was NOT ready for any more mortification.

Tony's chuckle shook me to the core, louder and ten times more expressive in the cramped, dark space of my temporary lair. "Come on out, baby girl. I didn't peg you for a wallflower."

"Duly noted," I said warily, having been expecting for him to drag me out and carry me to his bedroom, caveman style. I had noticed that my dorky self revved up his gears faster than any stereotypical seductive shit. It was no secret, at least not for us 'vengers, that Tony was a huge dork himself but I guess it takes one to know one.

"So, my suits, huh?" He smirked after a brief moment and just like that, I Did Not Like Where This Was Going. The receding footsteps and quiet snickering only confirmed my suspicions. Tony's form blocked the opening of the cabinet, crowding me even further into the already cramped space.

"Um," I found myself pretty much speechless. Part of me was excited and yearning - of fucking course I was curious if Tony Stark, genius and former playboy, had found a way to incorporate his suits of armor into the bedroom. Daresay, it was the question of the decade, according to Cosmopolitan, GQ, and a whole lot of other large media outlets.

The more sensible part of me screamed shame for that, playing with an essentially massive, powerful destruction machine. Something meant to protect millions of people from bad guys and aliens. It seemed blasphemous to waste such an important thing on scratching a curious itch.

I blinked owlishly, squirming.

"Okay, out you go." Tony's patience had run out and he withdrew himself, promptly standing up.

I heard the tapping of his fingers as I ungracefully stumbled out. He was occupied with his tablet so I turned around to adjust myself and the things on the countertop I had accidentally jostled in my rush to preserve some dignity.

An arm snaked around my waist, cold and unyielding, brushing against my exposed midriff with metal fingertips. Goosebumps followed the touch as I shivered involuntarily, stuttering in my breathing. "Fuck." The sound came out as if it was punched out of my throat with force, breathy.

"What's your safeword?" Tony's neatly groomed beard scratched against my ear. His voice was heavy and his lips were moist.

"Banana," I blurted the first thing that came into my mind. My body was hot and yet, I froze in place. The sheer power that the man behind me contained demanded unyielding obedience. I had no choice but to comply.

"Friday, lock the door. Nobody but me, in and out." Tony growled, pulling my hips into his metal-covered form.

Were we really doing this in the communal kitchen? With Steve and Bucky probably fully aware of what exactly was going on in here? Tony seemed to have zero reservations about that; in fact, I was almost sure he'd orchestrated the whole thing somehow. Steve owed like a dozen favors to the engineer.

The thick of Tony's leg firmly wedged itself between my thighs, spreading them open just enough so I was forced to put a slight arch in my back to keep still, my ass and shoulders firmly pressing against his Iron Man suit. I felt the coldness of the metal through my clothes, heard the hum of the nanobots in my ears.

My blood responded, heartbeat pulsing in my ears in sync with the electrical currents supplying the man behind me with the immense physical power to match his mental one. "Shit," The sound of my voice was faint. His other arm began creeping up my side to my shoulders, making an unmistakable beeline for my neck.

Tony applied firm pressure on it, wrapping the gauntlet carefully - not restricting the airflow, just steering me as he wished. And apparently, he had some very strong ideas about my current predicament: "Got me right where you wanted me?" He asked, low and breathy.

As I attempted to make noise, his hand tightened on my throat. Eyelids involuntarily sliding closed, my lips shook with the force it took me to muster up enough oxygen to hum a sloppy. "Mhm..."

"Can't hear you, baby girl," His cheek rested against mine, scratchy and hot and smelling like iron and gasoline and Tony.

Another shaky breath, I attempted to force the words out - for some reason, Tony's presence commanded me to obey him like never before. I nearly shivered from the sheer aura of power surrounding my man and it was his cue to lessen the careful pressure on my throat - just enough for blood to rapidly rush to my ears, making the world even hazier. "Yeah, Tony," It didn't take me much time to give him the enthusiastic consent he was looking for.

"Uh-uh," Tony tutted cheerfully. His other arm snaked around my waist, dipping lower to play with the hem of my skirt. God bless me for wearing a skirt! The rough pads of his fingertips scratched against the soft, sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. "I think we're past first name basis, baby," The suit retracted, mostly. The nanotech allowed for different parts of it to cover Tony's body in odd places: I felt the gauntlets and the arm braces, as well as part of a chest plate, but waist down my man was wearing simple jeans and tee.

"Uh," My brain supplied unhelpfully, feeling the bulge pressing against my ass. "Daddy?"

"That's my girl," I was rewarded with a groan, so sinful and delicious, falling from his lips straight into my ear. The hand that had gone down south cupped the mound of my pussy with a tender gesture. "Or Iron Man's?" He teased, grinding into me from behind.

"Yours," I keened obediently, my body seeming to find it impossible to decide between rubbing myself on his hand and his cock. It was a hard choice - pun absolutely intended. I was long uncomfortable in my panties and Tony's clever digits surely felt it, yet he made no further moves. "Daddy," I tried to put how much I ached for him into words.

Tony hummed, placing his wet mouth on the juncture of my neck for a moment. His hot breath seared my skin. The curious fingers finally, finally, reached the apex of my thighs. "Fuckin' shit, baby, you're..." He didn't bother finishing the sentence, speaking with his actions instead, scissoring his fingers between my labia, running the knuckles over my clit.

Just to feel me pant and shiver. I was sensitive and so aroused it was nearly unbearable. Tony always made me feel some type of way and, once again, my man had outdone himself. There was no shame left in me as I shifted my hips to the rhythm of his hand.

"Please?" I asked him prettily, knowingly that one little word would get me everything I wanted. A hard fucking, a new dress, a car, or, Hell, my own private island. My eyes were pretty when I begged, he had said. I would move the world for you, he had meant.

"Baby," The whisper was rushed as Tony turned me around and claimed my lips, hoisting my ass onto the marble countertop of the common kitchens. My legs wrapped around his hips, seeking the warmth and relief of his skin on mine. I wanted him inside of me, inconvenient location and two layers of clothing be damned. I wanted to bury myself in him until either of us couldn't tell who started and ended where.

"Daddy," I whispered into the thin line of his mouth, conveying my all-consuming need in a single word.

My skirt was hiked up in a second, the gauntlets of his suit still on his hands tearing my pants in a single clean motion. Eagerly, I scooted forward to pop the button on his jeans; grateful for the fact more often than not, Tony choose to forgo the belt whatsoever when working in the lab. Today was my lucky day.

His cock, red and thick and hard enough to pound nails with, weighed my hand down for barely a second beforehand Tony's gauntlets closed around both of my wrists, securing them to my chest. His other arm swiftly wrapped around me, pulling me close to him, as close as we could be together without sharing a single body. The blunt tip of his manhood stood at my entrance - not just teasing it but seeking permission.

One keen that seemed to come from deep insight my chest and I felt Tony's breath hitch as our sensitive flesh met; he filled me up at least as superbly as I hugged him. We shared a moan and a breath, just feeling each other, feeling the moment.

We were short on patience. Tony's hand slid onto the small of my back, urging our hips to meet each other, setting a punishing pace from the very start.

"Fuck, Daddy, oh God," I panted. I wasn't used to getting things started with so little prep.

"Baby," Tony rumbled, trying for stern, having it come out as breathless as I felt. "Shit, so fuckin' tight," His words garbled.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh was loud, perhaps, loud enough for certain enhanced folk to hear should they happen to pass the kitchen doors - and if that didn't make my insides clench in the most delectable ways.

Tony grunted in response, a lewd noise adding to the cacophony. "Gonna come?" His teeth caught my bottom lip, pulling it slightly. "For Daddy?" He asked, all traces of his usual cockiness gone, as he pulled away slightly to stare right in my wide eyes with his baby doe browns, equally blown with lust and longing.

Neither of us would last. "Yes, fuck, Daddy, please," I begged.

His hips angled just right, Tony continued mercilessly railing me, holding up my weak body between his arms. I felt the cold metal of the gauntlets through my shirt. The shivers ran across my skin in heaps, like busy little ants.

"Come for Daddy," Tony ordered, yanking me closer to hit that sweet spot deep inside of me. I couldn't resist the command, feeling the waves build up with every brutal stroke, clenching, muffling the screaming of my release in the crook of his neck, relishing in the growl that left his lips as he followed me, releasing my arms and folding his torso over mine. "Fuck," Was the only coherent word that left Tony's mouth, his seed creating a sticky mess between our legs.

"Yeah," I moaned, unwilling to part from him. It was intense. My world was spinning on its axis and my Tony was the center of it. He said something again, something soft and quiet, and my only concern was to rub my nose on his pulse point, to savor and remember the smell of our shared pleasure.

"Baby..." Tony sounded... Concerned. He withdrew slowly, frowning at my sleepy state. His frown only intensified when I absentmindedly rubbed my wrists - there were bound to be some marks left from the force of his grip. It was hot and it was... A surefire way to tell the suits weren't really adapted for bedroom games. Kitchen games.

"Daddy," I mumbled, sounding sad and pathetic to my own ears. I kind of wanted to cuddle and watch a movie but it seemed weird asking that from Tony since we've done crazier things and I had never felt like this, never got this greedy.

"Oh, baby, c'mere," He had come to some sort of conclusion. After re-doing his pants and picking up the scraps of fabric that used to be my panties, his arms made a comfortable nest. I was picked up without any troubles; the gauntlets had disappeared, too, into the thin golden bracelets around his wrists. I allowed myself to play with them, the shiny colors doing a good job of distracting me all throughout the brisk walk through the main living room and the swift elevator ride.

Tony's bed was messy, unmade and smelled like us - just the way I had left it that morning. Tony's hands were gentle as he stripped me and then swiftly chucked his own clothes.

"Watcha' doin'?" I asked as he wrapped his body around mine.

"Shh, we'll talk later," He murmured, looking slightly dazed himself. "Friday, put Stardust on the TV. 25% volume," As soon as the command was spoken, one of my comfort movies began playing on the large screen. Tony's hand kept stroking my hair and I didn't resist the temptation to close my eyes, settling into a peaceful lull atop the glowing white-blue of Tony's arc reactor.

My favorite color in the world, to be honest. It felt like I'd slept for ages when I opened my eyes to see the color again. "Um, hi," I supplied meekly, feeling way out of my depths from my own strange behavior.

"Mornin', Princess," Tony seemed joyful, the bags under his eyes a little less prominent than before.

I made moves to get out of the bed but he wrapped an arm around me, tugging me closer. "What do you know about sub drop?" He questioned me, in response to my vaguely confused noises.

That's what it was?!

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

[tyunniverse]

TXT x DISNEY Halloween Shorts 🎃 (1/5)

pairing: ot5 x reader

genre: fluff, college au

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: there's a halloween event at your uni and a few students are in the mood for misfit.

yeonjun | soobin | beomgyu | taehyun | hueningkai

YEONJUN | Tangled (1.8k)

A cloud of dust flurries around the room the moment you set one of the boxes down the floor, making you sneeze. You half expected the theatre storage room to be cleaner this time of the year due to the frequent visits and rummaging of the other students, but that sadly wasn't the case.

Your class was one of the few that had a small reenactment planned for tonight's event and you were doing Tangled. Your class president's request to gather the props and costumes needed for tonight was no match for the excitement you felt when you'd been granted to play the role of your favorite character, Rapunzel. You just didn't expect the place to look like it hadn't been cared for in years, and the props and costumes to be as heavy as they are. A little help would be nice right now.

The door creaks and you quickly turn around, sighing in relief when you saw the the chair still pressed against the old door . Your class president had warned you about the door's broken knob. The thing can only be opened from the outside, and once you get shut in, you can only hope for someone to notice and get you out. Unless, of course, you're willing to face the consequences for breaking school property.

You exercised a little caution upon entering earlier, blocking the door from accidentally closing. You check the time on the clock. The play was going to start in an hour or so and luckily you were already in costume, so that's one less problem. All you needed to do now was gather the last box of costumes and you were out. The box was placed at the far end of the room so you make your way there, carefully maneuvering around the dusty cabinets and compartments as to not soil your costume.

Another creak echoes in the room and you paid it no mind, crouching down to check the contents of each box. The chair you placed there was pretty heavy, and it'd take more than the wind to push it away. You continue to check the boxes until you hear another creak and the sound of the door slamming shut.

You frantically stood up and felt the life of you being drained out as you see the door closely shut and a familiar pink hair sticking out from the other side of the cabinets.

"Oof, the winds sure are strong this time of year." You hear the person chuckle to himself and you knew all too well who it was.

You scramble your way towards the front, fuming. "Yeonjun, what the fuck?!"

"Holy—" Yeonjun jumps, clutching his chest. "Y/N?! What the hell was that for?! You scared me." He huffs, trying to calm himself down.

You glare up at him. "Do you even know what you just did?!"

Yeonjun sighs, holding his arms up. "Yes, I know, I know. I shouldn't have entered the storage room, but listen—"

"No, you listen. Do you seriously not know what you just did?" You snap.

Yeonjun gives you a confused look. "Huh? You're not talking abour me coming inside the storage room?" He cocks his head to the side when you don't answer. Poor guy felt like he was in the middle of an interrogation. He was starting to feel uncomfortable with how pissed you looked so he turns toward the door. "Look, if you're not gonna answer me then I'll just come back when you're done and—"

"Oh." Yeonjun tries twisting the doorknob again. "Haha, is this thing broken?" He laughs it off, now facing you. "You have a key right?"

Silence.

"If the key works then I wouldn't be mad right now, Yeonjun." You tell him and the gears in his mind finally click. He just locked you both in.

An idea lights up in his head and he starts searching through his pockets. "Wait, I think I have my phone with— wait, wait— yeah, no." He chuckles nervously, eyes slowly meeting yours. "You don't happen to have your phone, do you?"

"Yeah, well that's exactly why I'm here." Yeonjun sits down on top one of the boxes. "I have to dress up as the Beast and hand out flyers later but it's at the same time as Kai's performance and you know I wouldn't miss it for the world. Plus, he threatened me if I don't show up, so I got someone to switch with me."

You raise a brow, crossing your arms. "That doesn't explain why you're here though."

"Rapunzel didn't exactly have any pockets in her outfit, Yeonjun." You give your costume a quick patting. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought your department was doing this whole Beauty and the Beast themed buffet."

"I'm getting there." Yeonjun winks or at least tries to. "We have a lot of time anyway."

"Speak for yourself." You throw a dusty old rag at him and he coughs after it hits his face. "Our play starts in an hour and I have to get these costumes to them in 10 minutes. And now we're both stuck here because of you."

"Alright, I'll cut to the chase! Let's make a deal."

You throw another rag at him and he catches it, throwing it to the ground. You huff, "You're not exactly in the position to make deals, Yeonjun. You got us into this mess."

"Well, you're not in the position to decline either since we're both stuck here." Yeonjun smirks, standing up. "Look, one of my seniors is in charge of handing us our costumes and he won't be arriving for another hour. I have to get the costume myself so I can hand it to my substitute but I can't do that when my senior's keeping an eye on me. So here's the thing," He walks over to the Beast's costume that was hung up along with a few others. "You let me take this costume and swear you won't tell anyone about it. If someone from the theatre approaches you later asking about the costume, you say you don't know anything. In return, I'll get us out of here ASAP."

You stare back at him in annoyance. As much as you'd like to rat on him as usual, you were one of Kai's closest friends and unfortunately, Yeonjun was also a friend of his, hence why you knew each other. Kai at least needed one of his friends to be there for his performance and it certainly wouldn't be you. He had told you after you'd been chosen as Rapunzel and you both understood that you had your own things going on at the same time so it's fine. You still planned on making it until his last song though.

"Fine. I'm only doing this for Kai and the fact that I'm desperate to get out of here." You agree to the compromise and Yeonjun grins. "But the moment I'll get in trouble for being caught lying, you don't even wanna imagine what I'll do to you."

"Works for me." Yeonjun reaches out his hand and you two shake on it. "Now, I'm gonna need your wig."

"What? No." Your hands instinctively rope in Rapunzel's long ass wig. "It took me nearly 30 minutes to prepare this."

"Fine, then you'll have to do it yourself." Yeonjun walks over to the small window placed up high on the wall. "There's a lot of people down there but I doubt they'll hear us screaming from the third floor. Instead," He grins, pointing at your wig. "You're gonna stick your arm out with the wig and twirl it around to get their attention."

His idea was the dumbest thing you'd heard that day but it actually might be dumb enough to work. You were pretty desperate already. What's a little wig sacrifice? "Fine." You sigh, approaching him. "Hand me the chair."

"Can't." Yeonjun shakes his head. "I moved it outside."

You frown. "How am I supposed to get up there, then? None of these boxes can hold my weight."

Yeonjun chuckles as he opens his arms. "Don't worry, I'll hold you up."

Your feel your face heat up at his suggestion. The room suddenly felt a bit stuffier than it had been a moment ago and you wish you didn't have to be in this situation. "Be careful with the dress."

"Sure, sure." Yeonjun coos, moving in closer to scoop you up.

The two of you struggle for a while to balance yourselves. Yeonjun had his arms wrapped around your legs as he hoisted you up, and you quickly gather the rest of your wig and toss the length through the window.

"Start twirling it around!"

You do as he says and starts twirling the wig around like a madman.

"Start screaming! HEE— ah wait, HEEELP!!"

You giggle when his voice cracked in the middle. "HELP!!"

A crowd gathers on the ground, marvelling at the sight of a spinning wig from the third floor. A few students heard your screams and sent someone up there to rescue you. Luckily, it wasn't the senior that Yeonjun had told you about so she left the two of you to sort things out on your own after opening the door. It still baffles you how his plan even worked to begin.

The clock catches your attention, reminding you of your tight deadline. You quickly gather the boxes of props and costumes you'd prepared earlier and made a quick stop at where Yeonjun was. "I have to go." You tell him.

"Yeah, me too." Yeonjun flashes you a smile but the duffle bag he was holding doesn't go unnoticed. He follows your line of sight and chuckles when he sees you were staring at the bag. "A deal's a deal. Don't worry too much about it, we won't get caught." He attempts another wink, and this time it actually works.

"Bye then." You nod, not wanting to waste anymore time.

"Wait!" Yeonjun holds on to your wrist and you turn around, meeting his gaze. "Good luck."

"Yeah, we both know that's not what you want to say." You grin.

"You're gonna try to show up later right?" Yeonjun smirks. "I'll save you a seat next to me."

[retroateez]

1980s horror film - s.mingi

hello all!!!

it’s been a lot longer than i intended, but a bunch of stuff came up and i both didn’t have time and didn’t feel like writing. this also wasn’t what i initially planned on posting, but life works weirdly and here we are. that being said, i wrote this in a way that is different to how i typically write so i apologise if it sounds/feels weird or awkward. regardless, i hope u enjoy! (also i didn’t realise it was all lower case so please ignore the inconsistency lmao)

//

pairing: song mingi x reader genre: unrequited love?? idk how to tag it oops word count: 1660 this is inspired by a song titled ‘1980s horror film II’ by wallows! 

//

mingi had been waiting for eons to score a date with y/n. way too long. all of his friends (mainly wooyoung), teased him constantly about her, but he had never gathered the courage to do anything about it.

they'd been friends for a long while, even hanging out a few times together at the cinema, or just going out for lunch before mingi realised he had an absolutely huge crush on her.

recently he'd been avoiding her like the plague, using volleyball practice, or band rehearsal with the boys as an excuse not to hang out with her. 

that was, until one sunny saturday afternoon, when she called him out of the blue. he took a few moments to collect himself, staring at the ringing phone in his hand like it was a ticking bomb seconds away from a devastating explosion.

"hey dingus!" y/n called down the phone once he had collected himself enough to answer. "what are you doing?" she asked.

"nothing. why?" 

"i'm bored." she declared. "wanna come over?"

"s-sure!" mingi agreed straight away.

"sweet. see you soon then!" y/n hung up, and mingi was convinced he might pass out.

he'd never been to her house before. maybe she really did like him back? oh god, he was starting to internally panic now; how was he supposed to act? he didn't want to be a creep but he didn't want to be painfully awkward either. oh god. oh god oh god oh god.

"get it together, mingi." he scowled at himself in the mirror, shaking his faded red hair side to side. he couldn’t make a fool of himself in front of her; he absolutely would not allow it. 

this could be his chance, to finally muster enough balls to ask y/n out before it was too late. yes, he'd decided; today would be the day.

-----

half an hour later, an exceptionally nervous song mingi knocked on the door of his highschool crush. he reached up and brushed a shaking hand through his hair, wondering whether his legs were numb from fear or the chilling bite of the surprisingly cold weather. 

a few moments passed, then the door swung open to reveal y/n. she was dressed in her usual style, comfy, stylish, beautiful, very y/n. in truth, she could be wearing a trashbag and mingi would still say she looked gorgeous.

she gave him a wide, toothy grin and stepped aside to let him in.

"welcome to mi casa!" she motioned to the hallway dramatically, one arm sweeping out in front of her and almost bashing her elbow into the kitchen doorframe.

"i wanna watch a movie!" she said, once she had recovered from the near injury. "i've already got the snacks ready, so let's go!"

she began bounding up the stairs, mingi following her before realising where they were headed and freezing abruptly in his tracks.

"we're going upstairs?" he breathed, anxiety flooding him from head to foot.

just what exactly was she expecting from him?

"yeah?" she shrugged. "is that a problem?"

"no!" he replied, perhaps a little too quickly. "no, that's not a problem at all."

-----

he was scared.

bordering on terrified.

y/n's bedroom was dark; having pulled the curtains before mingi's arrival to avoid the sun glaring onto the television.

as the minutes went on, mingi became less and less sure just what she was planning this afternoon.

she paced over to the tv set, opening a dvd case and slotting a disc into the player.

"it's a 1980s horror film," she explained. "i've been wanting to watch it for ages, but i didn't want to watch it alone... you don't mind, do you?"

mingi shook his head quickly. he did in fact mind, not being the biggest fan of the horror genre, but he'd made it this far, and backing out now was definitely not an option. plus, if wooyoung caught wind of mingi chickening out, he would never hear the end of it.

"here," she motioned to her bed; a double, with lilac sheets and an appropriate amount of cushions bundled up by her pillows. "take a seat."

unsure of whether he should, but not wanting to be rude, mingi crawled across her bed, sitting down amidst the cushions and crossing his legs like an obedient, yet timid child. he watched y/n grab her desk chair, dragging it across the room and placing it beside the bed, distanced but still close enough to mingi to completely throw him off his guard.

"don't you want the be-"

"nonsense!" she cut him off before he could even get the words out. "you're my guest, so you get the bed."

mingi was bewildered. never in his life had he expected to be in this situation. it appeared that y/n had absolutely zero intentions of doing anything romantic. which, don't get him wrong, was totally fine, but regardless he was still confused.

all the cheesy high school romance movies he’d watched, and all the young adult fiction novels he had read hinted that when you were invited to your crush’s house, alone, it usually indicated they wanted something romantic. or something more. absolutely nothing had prepared him for, or even suggested that the current circumstances would ever occur in a million years. mingi felt rather cheated, to be honest.

was she making him wait on purpose? deliberately staying away from him in the hopes that he'd just cave in and sweep her off her feet? y/n didn't seem like that kind of girl, but mingi had been wrong about a lot of things when it came to y/n. 

the movie began to play, and they sat surrounded by darkness, mingi decided he would simply go with the flow. he was a nervous wreck, but he wasn't a pervert; he wouldn't do anything unless y/n initiated it. the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. 

despite reaching a solution, he couldn't get it out of his mind how close they were in the moment. glancing to his side, he could very much reach out and gently touch her hair. or softly caress her cheek. 

obviously, he wouldn't, because that would be weird. and that was a vibe he was trying to avoid today.

halfway through the movie, y/n jumped up, explaining she had to use the bathroom and scaring the shit out of mingi in the process.

he kept his gaze fixed on the movie playing in front of him, but his mind wandered to other places. he sighed deeply.

he didn't even know what to say to her.

she's always on his mind,

and yet,

he's too afraid to say anything. how long would this pathetic pining go on for? surely it would be better for him to take wooyoung's advice and just go for it? otherwise he'll be playing this game for god knows how long. 

that was it.

he simply couldn't help the way he was feeling; he needed to get it out, to tell her how he truly feels.

and maybe, just maybe, she'd feel the same way too.

y/n comes back, and mingi gears himself up for his confession. digging into the deepest corners of his mind to find the right words to use. deciding to abandon his previous resolution to let y/n initiate, he convinces himself to take charge and follow the lead of every heteronormative teen movie in existence, and sweep the girl off her feet.

until she ditches the chair, motioning for mingi to scooch over and then she lays down right beside him. 

the bed is fairly large, but then again mingi is no regular sized teenage boy, his lanky frame taking up a considerable portion of the bed.. as a result, his right side and her left are pressed flush against each other, and poor mingi thinks he's about to explode.

but still, he inhales deeply, surveying the situation.

the lights are off, 

the mood was right.

perfect.

mingi lets her settle for a short while, which is really him internally psyching himself up, before setting his masterplan into action.

he turns his head slowly to look at y/n, noticing how invested she is in the movie and he pouts a little.

he wants her attention.

she still doesn't notice, so he opts for placing his hand on her cheek as gently as he can and guides her gaze towards him.

her eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but she makes no effort to move away.

frozen anxiety that mingi misinterprets as a green light.

his eyes fall shut, and his upper body leans forward the tiniest amount. he's so close. so close to finally being able to show y/n how he feels. he's seconds away from having a weight lifted off his shoulders. he can't wait to shove it in wooyoung's face either, all the times the younger boy had called him a pussy had pissed mingi off to no end, but look at him now wooyoung, look at him now.

all he needed was for y/n to bridge the gap between them.

but instead, a small hand on mingi's shoulder pushes him back, and his eyes snap open abruptly, and he feels his stomach fall straight through his ass.

"y/n, i-"

the look on her face stops mingi dead in his tracks, because he can't read her expression.

is she mad? is she super pissed that he tried to kiss her? he'd understand if she was, it probably wasn't the best course of action but it was the best he could come up with. is she angry? is she hurt? disappointed? he searches her eyes, burning into his, for answers but comes up short. all he can do is try and guess how she's feeling, but realistically he's no expert, he's no mindreader, how is he suppo-

"mingi, i'm really not that into guys." 

oh.  

[al-damnvers-spam]

Hey you still accepting agentcorp prompts? (sorry if I'm mistaken... I'm new here at tumblr and I can't find my way out lol) Prompt: agentcorp gets drunk in a bar (circumstances leading up to that is up to you) and ends up having sex. Fast forward to game night and they're desperately trying not to act awkward around each other. Like SUPER awkward. Bonus if Kara and/or Maggie notices.

“I finally have time to answer the rest of these, woohoo! Prompts are also open again, so y’all can feel free to send me more! (Also, I deviated just slightly from the prompt just a little, but it still works!)

Alex knew she needed new ways to unwind after a long day at work. She’d gotten better about drinking when she was with Maggie. But once they split, well, old habits die hard. That’s how she ended up at the bar, gladly drinking a glass of whiskey. It was predictable. What wasn’t predictable, though, was Lena Luthor entering and sitting down next to her without a word. As Lena ordered a glass of scotch, Alex watched her with curious eyes. 

“Got something to say, Danvers?” Lena asked after a moment. 

“No, no. Just watching… I’m a little surprised to see you here.” Alex said, straightening her back to appear a little less drunk than she was. Even subconsciously, she wanted to impress Lena.

“Yes, well, I needed a chance to relax.”

“Mm. You’re not the only one…” Alex replied before downing the rest of her drink

“Are you drunk, Alex? How many drinks have you had?” 

Alex considered the question and counted on her fingers. “Um… Three.”

“Including that one?”

“Nope.” 

“Oh boy. Rough day, huh?” Lena asked. 

“Little bit. Those military people are still at the DEO all the time. I swear, I’m gonna murder every single one of them. I’m the director, they can’t just… I’m the director!” 

“You are. And they are assholes that think they’re above everyone else. And you, Alex Danvers, are going to kick their asses. I know you will.” Lena said honestly. She hated seeing Alex in pain, physical or otherwise. “Now, how about instead of throwing a pity party, we drink a little more?”

“Well. I can do that.” Alex grinned and ordered another drink, along with a new one for Lena. The drinking, as it turned out, revealed a sexual tension that neither of them were prepared for. 

After two more drinks for Lena and one more for Alex, they were both sufficiently drunk. Conversation went from work to their personal lives in an instant. 

“Y’know, Lena… I know some people I could probably set you up with… if you’re into girls. I don’t know if you are. Are you? Nevermind, don’t answer that, it was rude.” Alex rambled while Lena just smiled, wondering how someone as tough and badass as Alex Danvers turned out to be so sweet and dorky when she let her guard down. It was endearing, truly.

“Well, Alex, let me just say that if I had to be set up with someone, I’d rather it be you.” 

Damn, Lena, that was smooth. But you’re so fucked if she doesn’t feel the same way. She thought, almost immediately chastising herself, until she saw the grin on Alex’s face. 

“Really? Well, geez, Lena… all you’ve gotta do is say the word and we can go back to my place.” Alex smirked. Lena’s eyes widened at the response.

“Well, what do you say we do just that?” Lena smiled and put down some money to pay for their drinks. Alex grinned and took her hand as they headed of the bar. They were at her apartment within ten minutes. Lena stayed the night, but they never spoke about it again after. The next two weeks were unbearably awkward, and it all came to a head at the next game night. 

They had both found themselves at Kara’s apartment, and neither of them knew how to approach each other. It was way to hide their awkwardness with the others around, Alex would just talk with Winn and James while Lena chatted with Sam and Kara. But soon, it was time to play Monopoly with their usual teams. Previously, Lena and Alex had always stuck together, their combined intellect helping them win almost every time. This time, though, they took their sweet time crossing the room to sit together. Even once they had gotten situated, their natural flow of conversation had become disjointed and uncomfortable. Everyone noticed, but each silently just chalked it up to neither of them being in the mood for socialization. Kara, though, wasn’t so sure.

The game began and Alex felt unfocused. A naturally competitive person, she never felt unfocused about Monopoly. Each move was usually calculated and careful, a mistake rarely made. But this particular night was different. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lena and what had happened that night. She couldn’t stop thinking about how they had never talked about it, and now her chance at a relationship with Lena was probably ruined forever.

“Alex? Alex, are you there?” Came Kara’s voice as she waved her hand in front of her sister’s blank face. Alex snapped back to reality, only to realize that she’d been staring at Lena. 

“Huh?” She stammered, her cheeks going red.

“Alex, it’s.. it’s your turn.” Kara said slowly, starting to get concerned for her sister.

“Oh. Right.” Alex nodded and saw that Lena had already rolled the dice for them. She quickly moved their piece, putting no thought into it whatsoever.

They ended up losing the game by a landslide. Kara and Winn had won, a first in the history of their game night Monopoly battles. As it turned out, Lena had been pretty damn distracted as well. 

As game night came to a close and everyone began cleaning up, Kara pulled Alex aside. 

“Did you and Lena sleep together?”

“What? Kara, no– of course not!”

“Then maybe consider it? I swear I could have cut that tension with a knife.”

Alex’s face turned bright red. Of course, as if Alex didn’t already want the earth to open up and swallow her whole, Lena chose that exact moment to walk in. 

“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting? I just… wanted to put the dishes in the sink…” Lena said quietly once she noticed the look on Alex’s face. 

“Kara wants to know if we slept together.” Alex replied, her voice about as soft and vulnerable as possible. 

“Oh. Well, that’s easy. No, we didn’t. Actually, all we did that night was literally sleep.” 

Kara’s eyebrows shot up at that. “So you stayed over one night?” 

Alex nodded. “After I got really drunk at the bar two weeks ago. We didn’t do anything more than make out before we both passed out.”

“That explains why you guys were so off your game tonight. I mean, you’ve both always been pining for each other, but you didn’t realize it until now and didn’t know what to do with yourselves.” 

“That’s… terrifyingly perceptive.” Lena noted. Kara just shrugged and left the room so they could talk. 

“So, we’ve been pining after each other, huh?” Alex chuckled dryly. 

“Apparently so. But, uh… I really do like you Alex. And, if you’d be willing, I’d like to try something a little better than drunk making out. I’d like to take you on a date.” 

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I didn’t think the feelings we let out that night came from nothing. And I’d really like to go on a date with you.” 

“I’d… I’d like that, too.” Alex smiled softly. 

When Alex told Kara later that night that she was going to go on a date with Lena, Kara just sighed with relief. She’d been convinced since the beginning that her sister and her best friend were meant for each other, no matter how painfully awkward and oblivious they were.