#dark!dream three-shot

[dotieeee]

A Small Set of Agreements

Part 2 of A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK three-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, non-con/dub-con kissing and touching etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Officially now a three-part series!!! Masterlist here Part 1: Click here

Summary: You were imprisoned by a vindictive Endless, who will stop at nothing to win you over, including taking advantage of your forced vulnerability.

The grand dining hall of the Dreaming was empty, save the King of Dreams and you, his little plaything, the one he claimed to have caught his affections. Clearly, with this splendid display of all your favourite dishes, with the elaborate, ruby-coloured gown he said he fashioned from his own sand that you now wore, the miles and miles of red tulips he showed you during your walk with him on Fiddler's Green, he was trying to win you over.

Yet, despite the voracious appetite you had developed the moment you were free from your glass cage, here you were, toying with a slice of peach on your plate, very much not hungry and over all just about done with the way your jailer was unabashedly staring at you across from where he was sitting. The hungry looks you were getting from barely three feet away had absolutely nothing to do with food.

You tucked your fork neatly on the plate and pushed it away gently. Morpheus, who was leaning back on his dining chair like the king he was, tilted his head in concern. "Is there something the matter, my beloved? Is the food not to your liking?"

You gave a quick smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "The food was great, thank you. Is there, uh…" is there no end to this, you had meant to ask, but decided against it. "Is there anything more you'd like me to do?"

You didn't like the sly grin that followed your question.

"I can think of many things I'd like you to do," he said, his voice dipping dangerously lower.

Fidgeting in your seat, you fought the urge to glare at him, and instead looked daggers at the innocent, half-finished peach cake on your abandoned plate. “I’m just saying, it’s getting a bit late. Not that I had much to do anyway…” Your voice trailed off, your mind drifting off to simpler times: how, around five in the afternoon, you and a colleague would get some coffee from the bakeshop, then rush back to the office to finish wherever you left off; sometimes your boss would get a box of those fancy doughnuts delivered and all of you would share five minutes of the afternoon sugar rush and  bitching about the accounting department. Boring as it might’ve been in hindsight, right then and there, you would’ve given just about anything, including a limb, to be there instead of here as mere passing entertainment for an age-old nightmare lord.

Said nightmare lord leaned forward, still with that annoying smirk, and said, "We are in no rush, my love. The day is not over until I say so.”

When you offered no reply, he stood from his seat and approached your side, extending his hand.

"Come with me."

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand and allowed him to lead you away from the dining hall. Where to, you had no idea, and after several flights of wide, marble stairs you tried to pry your hand away, but he tightened his grip with a warning look in his eyes. Nowhere in the enormous palace did you see anyone else around, making you feel even more alone with him than ever before. After seemingly endless staircases, he pushed open a double door, revealing a massive, extravagant gallery of pristine marble and velvet tapestries. Hand in hand, albeit unwillingly, he led you to probably the largest balcony you’ve ever been, offering the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever seen in your life:

His kingdom in all its glory, basking in the orange-purple glow of the setting sun.

You sighed deeply, closed your eyes and let the glow of the sunset warm you up, pretending you were all alone in a five-star hotel enjoying the nicest vacation you've ever had.

Until you felt a pair of lips kiss your hand and ruined the fantasy.

Morpheus let go of your hand as you open your eyes in favour of wrapping his arms around your midriff from behind. Your back stiffened as he pulled you close to his chest and planted a soft kiss on your hair, just above your earlobe. You heard him hum in satisfaction as his forefinger lazily drew circles on your clothed waist.

“Morpheus, what are you doing…?” you whispered, your breath hitching as you felt him take an audible whiff of your hair.

"One of the many things I had in mind," he whispered.

You shivered at the rather vulnerable position you were in, but it wasn't like you could tear yourself away from his unwanted embrace. He had you trapped, just like the cage he'd be putting you back in if he senses just the slightest resistance from you, so you stood there, rigid as a board. You tried your best to concentrate on the view that lay before you, but it was made even more impossible with the way those lips brushed against your earlobe and then kissed the base of your neck.

“Please…stop…”

Morpheus only hummed in response. He’d been keeping you on your toes the entire day, but what he said next just floored you.

“Come lay with me, my beloved.”

“Wh-what? You mean, sleep with you?” You gathered strength to abruptly pull away from him in utter shock. He’s clearly lost his damn mind. Once free, you put enough distance between you and him and faced him with your cheeks flaring up. “I don't believe this…you can't be serious!”

Unfazed and clearly taking offence at the wide berth, he said, “Do you doubt my love for you? Have I not been clear with my intentions? I wish for you to be my lover. Do lovers not declare their devotion to each other by indulging in each other's flesh?”

“One. Date.” You said pointedly. “That was all we agreed upon. One fucking date!”

“That is why I am asking now. Will you lay with me?”

The audacity of this cosmic being had you reeling inside, close to tearing your hair out in absolute frustration. “This is crazy. I've done everything you've wanted me to do today, but you can't expect me to just go along with that!”

Still incensed, you watch him take a threatening step forward with hands clasped in front of him, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed slightly. “I am giving you a chance to recant your response. After all, I freed you from your enclosure in the condition that you will do as I ask.”

“You're fucking sick, you know that?” You backed away as much as the balcony railing allowed you to. “I'd rather rot in that glass cage than sleep with you. No way.”

Morpheus just scoffed at you, his hands unfurling to his side. “Pride. I once recall being held captive in a prison not unlike yours. I could've been freed much sooner had I not been proud.”

Your eyes slowly widened as you observed fine grains of sand trailing upwards to his curled fingers. You’ve learned to fear his sand over time. It was a source of his immense power, and judging by the way he melted your glass cage that morning into sand with a single wave of his hand, he was more than ready to create another he could put you into. But, amidst the growing terror in you as his power, something else he said caught your attention.

“You, however, are human, and I, an Endless. Would you last a hundred years like I did?” he asked, his eyes flashing silver in contrast with the last dying embers of the sun.

Your captor was once captured for a century. But who would do such a thing to him? Was this why, even as an otherworldly being, he was so messed up and acting like he is?

“You…you were imprisoned,” you said in a hushed tone, suddenly finding yourself unable to meet his eyes. “And for that long? Ho-how did you get out? Why would anyone do that? How does that happen to…someone like you? I mean no offence, I’m just…uh…”

“Being compassionate.”

It was the gentlest tone you’ve ever heard from Morpheus since after your rejection of him. Glancing up at him, you were surprised how soft his facial features had become. Despite the circumstance, you were mesmerised by the way his eyes glistened in blue and all the stars it held. His hands relaxed and the sand gradually receded until it faded to nothing. Could you perhaps persuade him to have a change of heart?

“You are concerned for me,” he said. "It is an admirable trait you cannot help but display, even in duress. Your heart is good. All the more reason for me to possess it."  His tone shifted, and in a split second, the galaxies in his eyes vanished, consumed by the pitch-black abyss that could destroy anything in its path. "My human captors paid a hefty price for their transgressions against me. I do not wish the same on you." 

It was then you knew that whatever happened to him in his capture, there was no saving him from it, there was no change possible in him. There was no hope for you.

“I have, not once, ‘transgressed’ against you, and you know it, you fucking cu-”

“And yet, here you are,” he interrupted through gritted teeth, “Refusing me the only thing I have dared to want since your kind has wronged me.”

“Then why would you want anything to do with me, if 'my kind' offends you that much?” you spat back.

He paused at words as if contemplating them. You could tell by the way his expression faltered a little that they had an effect on him. He turned away from you to stare into the skyline, now void of the warm sun you were starting to miss.

“Those who trapped me sought those which do not belong to them. Their actions caused the collapse of the Dreaming.” He eyed you sideways, and continued, “Your actions on that fateful day of our meeting, however, led me to a better understanding of my responsibilities to my realm. Do not associate yourself with their sins.”

It took him only a few steps to finally close the distance between you. He was barely a few inches away from you now, no longer able to hide the look of longing in his eyes. He dipped his head so close to yours you could feel his breath fan your cheeks, and if you leaned any further against the balcony railing, you risked falling over.

“I see you as you are, so pure and selfless, someone who has so little, yet deserves everything she dreams of. I can give you that, and more, my precious little saviour. You need only say the word.”

But you saw him as he was, too: he was a monster; your abductor and tormentor, and you, a mere human, meant to be kept in a cage in this sick game only he knew how to play. You’d never give him the satisfaction.

“No.”

“'No?’ I suggest you reconsider.”

“Alright, give me a moment.” You followed that with a short pause, crossing your arms, then continued, “There, I've thought of it. Still no. Put me back in my cage, lock me up for ten, twenty, fifty, years – hell, make it a hundred so we're even, I’d be dead by then – I don't care. I am not sleeping with you.”

You matched his reproachful and hurt look with an unyielding expression, bracing yourself for the consequences of your words. He withdrew from you with a slight curl of lips, and the sand that had once receded whirled itself around the both of you.

“Have it your way.”

As you closed your eyes, the floor beneath your feet shifted, and you were lifted to your feet momentarily before setting you back down on a cold, uneven surface. When you felt the sand around you disappear, your eyes were greeted by the familiar sight of a spherical glass enclosure. You placed a palm on the clammy surface and moved closer so you could better see where he had brought you.

It was an enormous chamber, more opulent than anything you’ve ever been in the entire day, yet somehow emptier, darker, more foreboding. Right in the middle of the expanse was a massive four-poster bed covered in midnight, silky sheets. In the dark, you could barely make out a symbol carved on the headboard: a helmet of some sort, akin to a gasmask, with an odd spinal vertebrae sticking out at the end of it. This wasn’t the artificial space he had constructed – it was his room. 

He brought you to his room so he could watch you perish.

“Judging by your expression, you already know where you are.”

The ruler of nightmares stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself. He strode with dawdling steps closer to your cage with arms behind his back and stopped only a few inches away from your glass prison.

“You have no idea how displeased I am with your actions today, my little saviour,” he spoke, slowly placing his hand on the glass directly over your palm. “You shall be punished as I see fit. Death will not come for you. You are mine for eternity.”

You shivered, but not from the cold, as he withdrew his hand from the glass and turned around, presumably to leave.

Morpheus turned his head to the side and said with a final tone, “Should you seek my forgiveness, you need only call upon me and say the word.”

The King of Nightmares then left for good, his long cloak billowing behind him, leaving only the resounding bang of the giant double doors as they closed. Left entirely to yourself, you had only one thought as you curled in a ball inside your prison:

You weren’t going to last much longer.

***

The first few days trapped in your sphere inside his room had its ups and downs.

On a positive note, you were no longer floating in artificial space and can now tell between night and day by the light streaming from his tall windows and perpetually open balcony. On the other hand, you now had company night after night, in the form of a nightmare personified, with his eyes glowing in the dark as it focused only on you. Although he’d occasionally leave, presumably to attend to his duties as a king, he always came back, sat on his royal, high-backed chair, and observed you, without a word, in captivity. It was deeply unsettling. Both of you had not spoken since, but there was no need to. 

By your seventh day stuck in your glass cage, you woke up to a different sight: he had taken you to his throne room. The sphere was floating just a few inches from the ground at the foot of the pristine stairs leading to his throne. Your increasingly pale pallor looked terribly out-of-place in a hall surrounded with colourful glass panels that seemed to shift its display of images, plus the enchanted ceiling made to look like the night sky. You looked around to see where he was, but he was absent. He may have gone off to wherever the hell his attention was called for.

But it didn't take long for you to have company. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that one of the massive double doors to the hall had opened. Thankfully, it wasn't him you saw. It was a tall, bald woman with pointy ears, wearing a fine-looking suit taking long strides towards you with an alarmed expression, mouthing something you couldn't hear.

Maybe she could free you!

Getting up and kneeling on the curved glass, you rapped the glass with your knuckles with urgency and for the first time in seven days, you spoke, "Help! Help me, please!"

The woman crouched down to touch the glass and said something, but you couldn't really concentrate on reading lips now, given how stressed you were getting. Was she mute? Maybe she didn't hear you the first time. You shouted, "Please, let me out! Help me!"

But then she motioned to her ears, and then mouthed, slowly this time, so you could read what she was saying through her lips:

'I can't hear you.'

"Lucienne."

Your heart jumped at the suddenness of the Nightmare King's voice booming inside the hall. You could hear him just fine. What the fuck was going on?

"There is no point engaging her in a conversation, Lucienne. She can only hear my voice, and only I can hear her. That is her punishment. I suggest you leave her be the next time you see her."

Morpheus appeared in your line of vision, locking his cold, pitiless eyes on your wide, bewildered ones. Turning to the woman named Lucienne, who got to her feet and bowed slightly to him, he said, "There is a new island that emerged northwest of the Land of Unfinished Inventions. Have someone survey the island and list its inhabitants. I shall be at the library to fetch the report by sundown."

Whatever Lucienne replied was to anybody's guess. With a final bow and a sympathetic look at your direction, she exited the throne room and left you alone with him. He gave you a searing look just before he climbed the stairs to his throne, fluffed his long black coat and settled down on his royal seat. You shot back a reproachful glare before turning your back to him, hugging your knees and completely ignoring him.

Several more of his subjects dropped by that morning, presumably to seek his counsel. A raven even tried to peck on your glass cage, but Morpheus, who called the raven Matthew, basically told him to ignore you, then sent him away. He spoke to all them with an authoritative tone, but by then you had learned how to block him out so you never really understood the conversations. Anyone who approached his throne had a clear view of you, displayed like a prize won from the spoils of war. Everyone ogled at you, some even gave looks of pity, but there wasn’t anything they could’ve done in the presence of their ruler. You had never been so embarrassed in your life, but you tried ignoring these looks as best you can, seeing as your captor had planned this so he could break you and force you to do his bidding. By midday, the slew of Dreaming subjects seeking their king’s presence had waned, and once again, you were left alone with him in total silence.

He broke the silence blanketing the throne room by calling your name. You heard it loud and clear, but his call was completely and deliberately ignored. He decided to call your name once more, this time with a tone of slight warning.

You gingerly sat up to see him standing before your cage, his hands behind his back and looking down at you with a disapproving look.

“Shall I take your voice away, as well, seeing as you refuse to use it in my presence?”

“Go to hell,” you replied flatly as you met his stare head on. It was getting exhausting, trying to put on a brave face, especially after he just threatened to take away your ability to speak, but you did so anyway.

“I have been there, my beloved,” he said with a slightly amused tone. “That does not insult me.”

Great, why couldn’t he have just stayed there?

“Frankly, I don’t care where you’ve been.”

His smirk only grew wider, and he started circling your cage at a leisurely pace. "Oh, but you'd care where I am going."

Why would I, you thought to yourself, and you couldn't help but raise a curious eyebrow.

"I will be at the library."

Part of you knew he was baiting you, but at that point, it couldn't hurt hearing him out, would it? Truth be told, you were dying for anything to do. Anything.

So you asked, "You have a library?" You recognized the flash of victory on his face.

"I do," he replied, crouching down on his knees to better look at you. "It contains everything humanity has ever written, including those that it has yet to finish. There is none like it across all the realms in the universe."

A library. The last time you had been to a library was about three months ago (if your calculation of your time spent in his realm was correct) and it was because of work. You hadn't had a time to even enjoy the place, and given that it'll be a long time before you even go back there (if he'd even let you), you now regretted not checking out a few books you had meant to borrow.

"I am aware you are partial to Mary Wollstonecraft. There is but one novel of hers she left unfinished when she passed."

Of course. The Wrongs of Woman.

"It lies in my library, completed, and it awaits you," he goaded on with that infuriatingly smug expression. "You only have to say the word."

As tempting as it was, you knew that by agreeing with his proposal, you would be giving away any remaining dignity you had left. Between a book and your autonomy, it was an easy choice. You withdrew as far back as you could in your cage and shook your head once.

"I can't."

Morpheus seemed genuinely taken aback by your resistance. "You would keep yourself from reading your favourite author's work in favour of refusing me?" He asked incredulously.

"I don't want it," you whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking. "Just leave me alone. Please."

Your captor clenched his jaw and fists and said nothing, but guessing from how his knuckles turned white, he was furious. You couldn't care less if he was, though. Maybe you'd make him angry enough to kill you instead – that way, you wouldn't have to put up with all this anymore.

You hugged your knees, buried your face in them, and finally started to cry.

***

It stung. Your words actually felt like a whiplash to Morpheus's heart. He was seething, true, but everyday without you in his arms wounded him further, it was getting more strenuous for him to reel in his frustration without further taking it out on you. Your heart was farther out of reach than ever before, and nothing he could offer you seemed to work.

And then, he heard you sob, just as he was leaving to blow off steam and attend to his kingdom. It pained him to leave you in such a broken state, but you left him no choice. He had to keep you there until you saw your error. He knew the moment you said the words, he would take you in his arms and give you all the stars in the universe, should you ask him.

But even when he had finished all the work he had intended to do, even when he had already obtained the report he had asked Lucienne to make, that piteous weep plagued his mind. In all the days he's had you inside your glass enclosure, he had never heard you cry like so. He was always aware of your inner strength – your display of backbone in your imprisonment was nothing short of admirable. But you were wasting away the longer you resisted him, and he could not have that.

Despite all these conflicting emotions stirring up a storm inside him, what he desperately needed was to just spend precious time with you, to feel your soft touch, and to have you fall asleep in his arms as he read you poetry from a long-forgotten era…

The last thought brought forth a rather inspiring notion. He had distractedly drifted to the bookshelf that held the book he had taunted you with that morning. He hated having to deprive you of reading the book he thought you'd adore, but perhaps he could make a compromise.

He pulled the book out of the shelf without wasting time, and willed himself inside your cramped glass cage. You were asleep, it seemed, as far back as you could, with your head resting uncomfortably on the glass. There was not much space so he had to be careful and sat with his legs crossed. As he did, however, you had chosen to shift in your sleep and your hand had hit his leg lightly, stirring you awake. Even with your tear-stained cheeks, he found it adorable how you blearily rubbed your eyes to better focus on what exactly you had accidentally touched.

The sun had long since set, so Morpheus used his sand to transport the entire glass enclosure to his bedroom. This was an intimate moment he felt should remain away from prying eyes. Once the sand had cleared, he softly said your name out loud. His voice instantly jolted you alert, your eyes growing wide, and he knew that if you had room you would get as far away from him as you could. He was quite thankful he had created such a constricted space.

"What are you doing here?" You asked. Your voice sounded strained, probably from crying, and your eyes were red and puffy. He hated how you looked so forlorn, he had to stop himself from taking you in his arms, whisking you to his bed and kissing all your troubles away. He had to remind himself that there would be a time for that once you had ultimately, utterly surrendered to him. He had to concentrate, not on your supple, slightly trembling lips, but on what he truly came here for.

"I have in my hand the book I have told you about." He held the book up so you could better see it and know he was not trying to trick you. He saw your eyes light up momentarily at the sight of the tome, and that delighted him immensely. It had been a while since he had seen your light. He needed more of it.

"I would like to read it to you."

Your innocently confused expression was nothing but endearing. "I can just read it myself," you said.

"And you shall – once you have accepted my terms. Until then, you will have to get used to my story-telling," he countered, slightly teasing you. Morpheus had been told many times how alluring his voice was. Perhaps it would have the same effect on you. You seemed to weigh your options and tried detecting deception from him. He was starting to lose hope that you didn't want him with you, so he was relieved when you finally nodded.

Morpheus had almost forgotten how to smile after your refusal at his balcony, but the one he showed you was genuine, nonetheless.

You were quiet the entire time he read from the book, but the way you were so focused on him and hung onto every word made his heart flutter. He was halfway through one chapter when you started to shift just a little bit closer to him, your head leaning on the glass as you took to his storytelling. Just as he reached the end of the chapter, your eyes were already trying to stave off sleep and your head was falling to the side, but the limited space in the glass sphere he already occupied prevented you from laying down.

Momentarily pausing his reading, he said, "You can rest your head here, if you'd like." He tapped his thigh lightly, urging you to use it as a pillow. He knew how uncomfortable it was to lie on cold glass, and you had not slept on a proper bed since your arrival to his realm. If he had his way, he lamented, he'd have you in his arms and on his bed, the both of you stripped of all your clothing, yet draped in the most luxurious silk sheets his kingdom could offer. He hoped you would accept his invitation of resting on his lap just so he could have your bodies touch again, to feel your warmth, to be connected with you in any way once more. To his absolute delight, you did, and he happily continued to read from the book until he heard your deep, rhythmic breathing.

You had fallen asleep on his lap.

It was nothing compared to the kiss he had shared with you in your home, of course, but it was enough for Morpheus to cry a small victory: you had trusted him enough to fall asleep with him, on him, in his presence. He smiled to himself, sighing minutely, as his fingers traced your exposed cheek with a longing even he could not describe. He hardly dared move in fear of waking you up and you recoiling at your closeness, so he found contentment in stroking your hair with all the gentleness he could muster.

There, in the glass amidst the stillness provided by your hushed breathing, he resolved to be more patient: if this was how being with you made him feel, then it would be worth the wait.

***

The sun was streaming through your eyelids when you came to, but you didn't want to wake up just yet. You just had the best, albeit dreamless, sleep you've ever had in a long while, owing to that pillow your head had been resting on. You were hoping you'd be able to squeeze in five more minutes, until it struck you:

You never had a pillow in your glass prison.

Your eyes immediately shot open, greeted by a multitude of swirling galaxies that seem to float in deep blue waters. You just slept on the lap of Dream of the Endless, him and that soft, radiant smile and those long, fluttering eyelashes. You knew that stare perfectly well even when you haven't been at the receiving end of until now: it was the gaze of a lover.

He was anything but.

"Good morning, my precious little saviour."

You sat up at once, trying to assure yourself you couldn't have slept anywhere else due to the limited amount of space in the glass cage. Nevertheless, you automatically muttered an apology under your breath for falling asleep on him.

"My love, there is nothing to apologise for," he said gently as he watched you pull your legs close to your chest. "It must have caused you great discomfort to have been sleeping on such an unfriendly surface for so long."

And whose fault is that? You thought wryly. Your eyes landed on the book he had propped against the glass. The book he had been reading to you just before you fell asleep. This didn't escape his ever-observant eyes.

"Should you like to continue where we left off, I am willing to relinquish the book…release you from this glass sphere, let you peruse other books in my library..."

He picked up the book and waved it lightly in front of him.

"For a price, of course."

Ah, there it was. He wouldn't be offering you anything for free at this stage, Hell would freeze over first (which is apparently a place that actually exists). He drew closer to you, his hands leaning against the glass on both your sides to trap you.

"Kiss me, my beloved," he whispered. Thankfully you still had your knees to your chest or your noses would've already touched. His heavy gaze focused on nothing but your lips, he continued, "Grant me a kiss, and I shall allow you unfettered access to a library like no other."

You calculated your options. While you were grateful he hadn't asked you to sleep with him, a kiss was still a form of contact with a being keeping you against your will you'd much rather have nothing at all to do with. Still, you couldn't help but look at his slightly parted lips, and a memory of you kissing them in your home surfaced. Had it really been that long ago? It wasn't bad, if you tried being objective. Plus, you'd finally have something to do outside your sphere. It's just a kiss, nothing more.

You gave him a single nod.

Delight washed over your captor's features as he touched your knees lightly, urging you to lower them and allow him to get closer. You could feel your skin tingling where he touched them, but that was soon forgotten the moment you shifted to a more relaxed pose. Without an ounce of hesitation, he cupped your face and pressed his lips on yours.

Reluctant as you were, he didn't seem to mind, for he gripped the back of your neck and changed his angle, his tongue prying your mouth open. Within seconds, his tongue danced with yours, and you were struggling to keep up. His other hand gripped your waist and pulled you closer to him as he bit your lower lip gently, and the surprised gasp you let out only made him deepen the kiss. An eternity seemed to pass before his lips withdrew from yours, but to your horror, he started caressing your jaw, dipping lower into your neck and suckling your skin. You placed a hand on his chest and tapped.

Breathless, you said, "Don't…please, you said it was just a kiss – "

You felt a rumble from his chest, and he harshly yanked your wrist away, effectively cutting off any complaint you had.

"The kiss will be over when I say so," he growled against your ear, before nipping on your earlobe and planting open-mouthed kisses on your neck once more.

Dear heavens, his mouth scorched your skin, and you knew the way he sucked on it would leave bruises. You wanted to break free from his death grip and scream, but you took his thumb placed on your pulse point as a warning, so instead you gripped his coat and closed your eyes tight with a whimper. You felt his teeth scrape your collarbone before he pulled the neckline of your dress so he could bite down on your shoulder.

Just as you were about to cry, Dream pulled away, gave you one last peck on the lips, and nudged your chin a little. When you opened your eyes at last, you found yourself sitting on the floor of his room and the glass you had been encased in nowhere in sight. He helped you to your feet with his arm still around your body.

"I will have an attendant help you with your preparations," he said as he let go. "You will meet me at the dining hall."

The kiss he left you with on your forehead did not help your shaking and the shame you felt at what you just did for this little bit of freedom.

***

Morpheus said you needed to meet him in the dining hall, which meant fuck-all because you had absolutely no clue where it was. His palace was an elaborate maze of rooms and galleries, hallways and staircases, and the occasional dreamer wandering around, lost just like you were. You tried asking one of them where it was, but the response you got didn't make sense at all (to them it probably did, as dreams often were; when they wake up from it, not so much).

A loud crash and a string of curses interrupted your musing, so you followed the sound, and after two right turns and a left, you found a woman at the end of the hallway kneeling on the floor, fussing over a broken dish and the spilled contents it once held. You were on her side at once, picking up the broken ceramic as carefully as you could.

"Oh, this is so embarrassing," the woman whined, fishing out a cloth to wipe the mess off the floor as best she could. "I'm sorry you had to see this, I'm not normally this clumsy…"

"It's okay, I'm happy to help," you brushed her off as you began picking up the smaller bits and piling them on a corner. "Besides, I'm kind of lost, maybe after we clear this up, you can help me find the way to the dining hall?"

You looked at her expectantly, but she had already paused at cleaning the mess in favour of ogling at you.

"I know you, " She exclaimed. "You're the girl he put in the glass cage!"

Distracted by her reaction, you let out a soft, pained gasp; a tiny piece of the ceramic had pricked your finger.

"If you don't mind my asking, are you alright?" The woman asked hesitantly with a concerned expression.

You nodded. "It's just a nick, I'll be fine."

"No, I don't mean your finger, dear," she whispered as she drew closer to you. "How did you end up on his bad side?"

"Oh." The question had taken you aback, but you weren't sure how to respond. Maybe if she knew the truth, she could help? "I didn't –"

A firm call for your name made you freeze midspeech. It was Dream, striding purposefully to where you were. It was clear with his expression that he wasn't happy.

"You were to meet me at the dining hall. What kept you?" he questioned as soon as he reached you.

"I got lost," you defended as you got up to your feet. Not wanting to upset him any further, you tried to hide your bleeding finger behind your back, but it was too late; he grabbed your wrist and brought it to his view. If he was unhappy then, he became furious in an instant.

"What have you done to yourself?" He asked through gritted teeth, his grip on your hand tightening, his eyes blazing and demanding answers.

Your heart was beating wildly as you tried to explain, "N-nothing, it-it was just – "

"My Lord, if I may."

The woman you just met interrupted and stood calmly even under the scrutiny of her ill-tempered king. That took courage, which you found yourself being drained of every single day with him.

"I tripped over myself and made a mess of this dish I was supposed to bring to the dining hall," she began. "The good lady, seeing my distress, temporarily abandoned her search for her destination and only tried to assist me, injuring herself in the process."

Morpheus turned to you, his features softening a little. "Is this true, my beloved?"

All you could do was give him a shaky nod. You felt relieved when his anger visibly dissipated and his grip on you softened, his expression turning apologetic. Without looking at the woman, he ordered her to fetch someone named Mervyn to clean the spill on the floor, to which she simply bowed and left.

"Then, there is no excuse for my harshness," he said, before bringing your injured finger to his lips. The cut healed itself in a matter of seconds, much to your astonishment. "I should be grateful that you were willing to put yourself in harm's way to help my palace staff."

He went further by placing your palm on his cheek and then kissing it, his stare darkening as he did. You fought that nagging urge to yank your hand away, fearing that his anger might resurface.

"I could not have chosen better."

You averted that increasingly heated gaze of his, but it was too late to avoid the other thing you had been dreading: he pulled you by the hand to him for a kiss on your lips.

Dream pinned you in place with a firm grip on your waist and another behind your back, which then travelled to the back of your neck. Struggling was futile, so you did your best to hold it all in as he suckled your lower lip and drew in all your gasps, leaving you close to suffocating, just like the way he spirited you away. With every motion you allowed his tongue on your mouth, he syphoned away whatever self-respect you had left.

Will he leave you with anything?

It didn't take long before a sob began to form at the back of your throat. Perhaps he heard it, or felt it, for he let go with much reluctance. Instead, he settled with bringing your foreheads together while you composed yourself. It wouldn't do you much good if you suddenly lost your mind right in front of him, right?

"Have I told you how much I am in awe of your beauty, my love?" He whispered against your lips. "You prove to me time and again that your heart is just as beautiful, if not more so."

You offered no words while he stroked your cheek with his forefinger and he placed his lips over your ear.

"As such, I will prove to you just how much it belongs to me."

He will take everything from you, even after you have nothing left. *****************************

Part III here!!!

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that. it's really appreciated :)

Part 3 out now will contain smutSMUTSMUT---

[thetangibleghost]

night mare: hundreds of bodies in large clear plastic bags. two or more to a bag. it didn't start out like this, there's something happening. an old man is helping me get home from the mall. I was trying to buy flip flops and a nice shirt.

my job is to preform on stage, I get booed off because the time before I told a story.

earlier in the dream a woman is helping me get to work, I see bodies on the side of the road, construction workers. there's a young boy buried in road rubble. my co worker asks me if I'm okay, but Im not able to talk to respond. I try to mime that I'm "so-so" she thinks I'm saying something else. but I'm able to show her eventually.

I'm at a school, in a dorm hall way. one of the teachers sends out this mas email to her students. I'm a little annoyed cause I'm on this email and I'm not a student so it was just a mass email. she also is acting in the email liked nothing at all is happening, expecting her students to travel and meet her. I pass her dorm while I'm leaving for work and she's laying in bed, she thinks I'm a student and tells me open office with start soon she just needs to get out of bed. I'm a bit discusted but unsurprised by her general vibe. Im going into detail now but I was less judgy in the dream lol.

I'm both at that mall trying to get some sandals and a nice dress, as well as proforming. I get booed off and the crowd begs for my co-worker while I'm walking off I wonder if this is because the light up outfit I'm wearing makes my skin look darker. I complain out loud that nobody told me this was going to happen. some one in the crowd says something to me as I'm leaving and I mime shooting them. many people pretend to fall backwards at once.

the old man sees this and I think it's why he decided to help me. there's body bags hanging everywhere, but it's been about three days of this so I'm more used to them. but at that moment I'm trapped in a small court yard with four exits. the area I just came from. one that's blocked mb bodybags and crowd, the escalator down into the mall and a clear exit.

the old man brings me to the escalator after trying to push through the crowd. but we both wordlessly agree that it is way too dark and looming. I wonder if he thinks I'm soft for still eye-ing the bodybags. I head towards the clear exit but he's following close behind me.

I take one step out side of the arch and a gun goes off. the old man holds me from behind and we float into the air. he says 'did you get injured in Afghanistan?' and I said 'i just did' not really understanding what I was saying. still floating, feeling him holding me in bright white. then the dream ended.

[malavera]

Peaches: “Would you be so kind in lending a hand?” (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: the friendly old man neighbor of yours is helping you with your wash day

warning: the setting of this one-shot is AU no correlation to Wolverine & Deadpool, SMUT! MDNI, fingering, female oral receiving, age gap (legal), no use of Y/N, the use of pet name peach, sir kink, squirting

wc: 3.5k (well it's a full shot not a drabble ehe)

creds: i forgot where the divider is from, creds to the creator!

dedicating this one to my favorite authors!

@velvrei @wolverinesleftclaw @stark-ironman @lovelybucky1 @cyber333angel @dollverine @joelsgoldrush

peaches masterlist

The day had finally come when you decided enough was enough. The laundry had been sitting there for three days, staring at you from the corner of your room like a silent accusation. Today was the day you would conquer it. Armed with your resolve, you hauled the overflowing basket to the laundry room. But as fate would have it, the universe had other plans.

The washing machine, that steadfast appliance you’d trusted for years, chose this very moment to betray you. The once familiar hum was replaced by a groan, a sputter, and then—nothing. You stared at it, disbelief turning to frustration as you realized the mountain of clothes in your arms was going nowhere. Your favorite pair of undies, buried somewhere in the pile, would have to wait.

You let out a long sigh, leaning back against the machine, its cool surface doing little to soothe your annoyance. Arms crossed, you dialed your father’s number, hoping for some semblance of a solution.

“Dad, the washing machine broke,” you said, half hoping he’d have a quick fix, half dreading his response.

There was a pause before he spoke, his voice calm, almost too calm. “Ask Logan for help, he’s pretty handy with stuff. I won’t be back until 8 PM tonight, buttercup.”

You nearly dropped the phone. Logan. Of course, it had to be him. The very thought of knocking on his door, asking him for help, sent a thrill of anxiety coursing through you. Why did it have to be him?

Logan Howlett—the man who occupied your thoughts far too often, the man who was the face of your wildest dreams. Just the mention of his name made your heart race. And now, you were supposed to ask him for help? The universe certainly had a twisted sense of humor.

You ended the call, staring at the washing machine like it was some cruel joke. The burnt toast theory, they called it. Sometimes, when things went wrong, it was the universe’s way of steering you toward something better. But as you stood there, contemplating the inevitable encounter with Logan, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a blessing in disguise—or a test you weren’t sure you could pass.

Logan Howlett had been a fixture in your mind for five long months, ever since he moved into the neighborhood. It wasn’t just his rugged good looks or the way he carried himself with that effortless confidence; it was the way he seemed to have slipped so seamlessly into your life. Your dad, always quick to befriend a fellow drinker, had taken to him immediately. They were practically inseparable, sharing beers on the front porch, watching games in the living room, and even lingering over meals in the dining room.

And there you were, sneaking glances every time Logan was around, feeling that unmistakable flutter in your chest whenever he caught your eye.

Today, though, was different. Somehow, you found yourself standing on his porch, heart pounding as your fist hovered in mid-air. What were you thinking? Asking Logan for help—it felt too forward, too direct. But here you were, ignoring every ounce of self-doubt, raising your hand to knock on his door.

You barely had time to second-guess yourself before the door swung open. And there he was, the embodiment of everything that had been haunting your thoughts for months: tall, effortlessly sexy, his dark hair tousled just right. He was wearing a white shirt that clung to his broad chest and shoulders, tucked into denim jeans that fit him perfectly. You couldn’t help but notice how the summer sun cast a warm glow on his skin, making the moment feel almost surreal.

“Hey,” Logan’s voice broke through your reverie, casual yet deep enough to send a shiver down your spine. He squinted against the sunlight, his expression shifting into one of familiarity. “I was about to come over. Your dad called and asked me to check on something.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady as your mind raced. “Yeah, the washing machine broke. Dad said you could help… Would you be so kind in lending a hand?”

You could hear your own voice, slightly strained as you tried to strike the perfect balance. Not too high-pitched, not too low. Not too eager, not too aloof. But before you could overthink it any further, Logan flashed you a small smile, one that made your heart do a little flip.

“Yeah, sure, Peach.”

And there it was—that damn nickname that never failed to turn your insides into mush. It started innocently enough, the day your dad brought home a bag full of peaches and peach-flavored drinks. Logan had been there, chuckling at the sight, and ever since, he’d called you “Peach” with that easy, teasing tone. Now, every time he said it, you couldn’t help but melt a little, even if you tried to play it cool.

As you turned to lead him to your house through the backyard, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the universe’s way of pushing you closer to the man who had taken up residence in your thoughts.

“It made a really loud noise and it was shaking really bad, the sound was a bit scary,” you admitted, your voice tinged with worry. “And also, can you check if my clothes are alright? Did it tear them off or something?”

Logan nodded thoughtfully, a low hum of consideration escaping him as he surveyed the situation. “Where did your dad put his tools?” he asked, his gaze already scanning the room.

“Oh, it’s right there,” you said, pointing towards the shelf against the wall. Determined to be helpful, you stood on your tippy toes, stretching to reach the toolbox. But before you could grasp it, Logan moved past you with ease, his hand already closing around the handle.

“Careful, Peach. It’s pretty heavy,” he murmured from behind you, his voice close enough to send a subtle shiver down your spine. His presence loomed over you as he reached up effortlessly, the scent of his cologne mingling with the warm summer air.

You stepped back, feeling a mix of flustered and grateful as he handled the heavy toolbox with ease, making you feel small and protected all at once.

“O-okay.” The stutter slipped out before you could stop it. Seriously? Get a grip, you scolded yourself internally. Trying to regain some composure, you quickly added, “I’m just—gonna… fix you something to drink.” You gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen, hoping to retreat before you embarrassed yourself further.

Logan nodded absentmindedly, his focus entirely on the washing machine that seemed to be on its last legs. He didn’t even glance your way, which was both a relief and a disappointment. You took a nervous step back, then another, finally turning and heading to the kitchen, hoping a moment away would help you steady your nerves.

Leaving his presence created an unfamiliar ache in your chest, a tug of reluctance you hadn’t anticipated. It was as if some part of you didn’t want to leave his side, didn’t want to be apart from the quiet strength that Logan exuded. The thought of retreating to the kitchen, of putting physical distance between you and him, felt wrong, almost unnatural.

You wanted to stay. You wanted to watch him work on the broken machine, to see those skilled hands in action, to listen to the steady, assured way he moved and spoke. But at the same time, you knew you couldn’t trust yourself around him. Not when your heart raced at every little interaction, not when just being near him made you feel so unsteady.

You didn’t have the confidence to be casual, to act like you weren’t hanging on his every word and gesture. And you certainly didn’t have the strength to face the feelings that threatened to overwhelm you every time you were close to him. So instead, you sought refuge in the kitchen, hoping the distance would help calm the storm inside you, even as it left you aching for more.

Twisting the faucet, you watched as the water streamed out, the steady flow almost hypnotic in its simplicity. The kitchen was quiet, the only sound the gentle rush of water hitting the sink. You leaned forward, letting the coolness soothe your heated skin, and splashed your face with the cold water, hoping it would bring some clarity to your muddled thoughts.

For a moment, the shock of the cold jolted you back to reality, away from the overwhelming thoughts of Logan that had been swirling in your mind. You closed your eyes, letting the droplets drip down your face, trying to steady your breathing and collect yourself. It was just a broken washing machine, just a neighbor doing a favor.

You swung open the fridge, your hand instinctively reaching for your favorite peach-flavored soda. The cool metal of the can felt reassuring against your palm as you pulled it from its place. With a satisfying hiss, you cracked it open, the sweet, fruity scent immediately filling the air.

Reaching for a tall glass, you filled it with ice, the cubes clinking softly as they settled. Then, you poured the bubbly soda over them, watching as the fizzy drink cascaded down, swirling and dancing around the ice. After inserting a straw into the glass, you carefully picked it up, the cool condensation forming on the outside of the glass. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and made your way back to where Logan was.

"Here you go," you announced, placing the glass on the nearby table. Logan turned his attention from the washing machine to you, his eyes briefly darting to the drink you’d set down. A smile curved on his lips, the warmth in his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “Thanks, Peach.”

“Ehe…” You offered a nervous smile in return, your cheeks heating up at the casual endearment. Trying to steady your fluttering nerves, you grabbed the straw and shoved it into your mouth with a little more force than intended. It was your way of silencing the awkwardness bubbling inside you, a desperate attempt to keep any embarrassing sounds from escaping.

“So, your dad’s going on a date later today, huh?” Logan’s voice was light, but he noticed the nervousness you were trying to mask. His intention was to ease the tension with casual conversation.

“Y-yeah, he’s working now, but that’s what I’ve heard,” you replied, nervously fiddling with the straw. You decided to sit on the edge of the table where Logan’s drink was, adjusting it carefully to avoid spills.

Logan glanced at you, then back at the washing machine, his smirk widening. “You okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you responded, a bit defensively.

Logan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve never been too thrilled about him dating. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of Logan’s question pressing on you. Taking a deep breath, you decided to let your guard down. “Well, it’s just… I’ve always felt like I have to compete for his attention. It’s silly, I know, but it’s hard when you’re used to being the center of someone’s world.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he gave you an understanding nod. The moment of connection hung between you as Logan turned his attention back to the washing machine. He worked with focused precision, his hands moving deftly as he made the final adjustments. The clinks and whirs of the machine were soon replaced by a steady, rhythmic hum.

“There we go,” Logan said with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire his handiwork. The washing machine was back in action, its gentle whirl now a reassuring sound.

You let out a relieved sigh, watching the machine function smoothly. “Thank you so much, Mister Howlett. I really appreciate it.” you said, your gratitude sincere as you adjusted from your sitting position to stand up. You set down your now-empty glass on the table, the slight clink of the glass breaking the brief silence.

Hearing you address him as "Mister Howlett" sparked something within Logan—an unfamiliar, yet undeniable feeling. It was a sentiment he had been trying to avoid, one that stirred within him despite his best efforts to keep his distance. The formal address seemed to intensify the feelings he had been wrestling with, making them more pronounced.

You're not the only one who has a crush, he does too.

From the moment Logan had closed the trunk of his truck while moving into the neighborhood, you had been on his mind. He remembered the day vividly—watching you step out of your car in a beautiful white sundress that hugged your upper body and flowed gracefully. The way the dress accentuated your figure, combined with the ease of your movements, had captured his attention in a way he hadn’t anticipated. As you came knocking on his door with your dad beside you to welcome him into the neighborhood, those peach-flavored pie you brought had been lingering in his mind ever since. He wondered if you smell as good as that pie where he devoured in one full bite that night. And here you are, wearing the same white sundress that's gotten him obsessed with.

As Logan took a step forward, you instinctively stepped back, forgetting about the table behind you. Your hips brushed against it gently, causing a small jolt. Logan had intended to reach for the glass of your beverage, but his proximity brought him uncomfortably close.

With a casual yet deliberate movement, Logan took the glass from behind you, his body nearly brushing against yours. He lifted the glass in front of you, tilting his head slightly with a smirk. “Thanks, Peach,” he said, his voice low and warm.

Without breaking eye contact, he chugged down the drink, his gaze locked onto yours. The act was both confident and intimate, making the moment feel charged with unspoken tension. The shared space between you seemed to crackle with a newfound energy as you both stood there, the air thick with the lingering effects of the brief but intense connection.

You cleared your throat, feeling a flush of heat spread across your cheeks as you managed to wiggle your way out from the proximity of Logan. You made your way toward the washing machine, watching it work through the glass as your laundry tumbled inside.

“Tell me, Peach,” Logan’s voice came from behind, smooth and deliberate. “Is your taste as good as this peach soda?”

Your breath hitched, and your mind raced. Am I hearing this right? Is this a dream? You thought, trying to process his words. Despite the possibility of it being a dream, you couldn't bring yourself to face him. Instead, you leaned against the washing machine, the rhythmic vibrations grounding you.

“Um—W-what do you mean, s-sir?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely more than a whisper.

You could feel Logan’s presence closing in behind you, the air growing warmer and thicker as he approached. The vibrations from the washing machine seemed to pulse more intensely against your torso, amplifying the sensation of his proximity. Each step he took made your heartbeat quicken, your senses acutely aware of the space between you shrinking.

Logan’s shadow fell over you, and you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath, though not yet touching your skin, was close enough that you could sense its warmth. 

“You wanna know what ‘m thinking, Peach?” He mumbles behind your ear. You wished he didn’t hear your shuddered breath and the swallowed saliva down your throat from the way he makes you nervous.

“I don’t think so, Mister Howlett.” you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain your composure.

“Naw, why? Afraid you might like it?” You could feel the smirk slowly forming in his face.

“I-”

“I’m thinking of bending you against this washing machine, lift up your very short sundress and get on my knees. Slowly taking my time smelling that scent… of arousal from your pussy, where I know, she’s dying to be touched, to be fingered, to be fucked, by me.” You gasp once you feel the bulge from his rough jeans, teasingly grinding against your ass earning a chuckle from him as he continues,

“Oh yes I know, Peach. I know how much you want to feel this cock inside you. Should’ve known better to close your blinds at night when your delicate… fingers desperately trying to reach that high, because I’m always watching you, Peach. Even though you’re such a pain in the ass with that, Peach flavored pie, and that fucking beautiful smile. I wanna turn those smiles into tears… Tears of pleasure from me, fucking this cunt.” You gasped loudly as Logan roughly thrust his bulge against your ass, hitting you against the washing machine.

“L-Logan,” you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

“Call me, Sir,” Logan’s tone was laced with full authority, each word deliberate and commanding. You choked back a swallow before you corrected yourself.

"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." You stood on your ground.

"Yeah? Let me remind you how it feels then, this time, with me." Logan grunted in your ears before you felt a rush of cold air blowing against your damped panties resulted from Logan lifting your skirt up. You whimpered once you feel his fingers grazing against your soaking wet cunt, earning a mocking tut from Logan.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Your cunt says otherwise, Peach." He rubs you through the panties before ripping them off of you, the sound piercing through the room.

Logan crouched on his knees, proving his promise to you the one where he'd like to take his time smelling you from down your legs up to your thighs, dragging his warm tongue on your delicate skin upwards earning a moan from you. Logan hummed once he connected his lips to your glistening pussy lips, his tongue swirling and lapping your gushing juices.

You feel like god had just granted you your wishes into doing this sinful things. You finally can experience the feeling of his tongue against your throbbing cunt that keeps on gushing. Logan moaned, while he laps your juices up like a dog. "You taste just as I imagined, peach-flavored cunt." He murmured against your pussy.

A rosy hue crept across your cheeks hearing his statement. "Come on, Peach. Gimme more." Logan breathed out, his two hands that were gripping your thighs pushed and lifted you upward attempting you to bend over more over the top of the washing machine. Spreading your legs wide, you moaned out loud once you feel his tongue crazily lap your pussy like a dog in thirst.

"S-sir.." You squeaked, feeling yourself close.

"Hmm, yeah, give it to me, Peach." Logan grunted, burying his face even more.

"Ngh, I'm gonna-" Before you could finish that sentence, you froze as you heard your dad's voice calls out to you.

"Buttercup! I'm home, have you managed with the laundry yet?" He hollers from the other room. You gasped while Logan didn't even budge, he kept resuming his action.

"Y-yes, Dad! Everything's good now!" You holler back, holding yourself back from moaning.

"Do you need any help, darling?" You heard the sound of footstep, your eyes widened and hurriedly answer, "No- No, Dad! Everything's good, I'll be coming in a second." Logan smirked.

"Okay darling, I'm gonna get some rest." Your dad holler back as his footsteps fading away. You sighed in relief before you gasped when you feel Logan entering two fingers inside your cunt.

"What a naughty little girl, she needs to make herself cum before she gets back to being the dotting daughter huh?" You whimper to his words.

"Please, sir. Don't stop, it feels so good.."

"Yeah? Wait till you feel my cock." Logan vowed. He curled his fingers inside you, effortlessly flicking your g-spot before he stood back up on his feet, leaning against your back. He gently guide you to stand on your feet even though it's impossible for you as you're still in daze from his fingers still working their magic.

Logan whispered all kinds of filthy things in your head to get you to reach your high. "Is this just like what you imagined, peach?" — "Feels so good yeah?" — "Yes it does. Are you gonna cum for me?" — "Yeah come on, almost there, I know," — "Make a mess on my fingers, baby."

As you choked a loud moan, Logan's other hand went to silenced you while you came gushing down on his fingers. Your whole body shook while Logan holds you in place as you're coming down your high.

"There you go, good girl." You panted once you've gained your strength to stand on your own, you turned around and to find him smirking, a notable wet droplet covered some parts of his jeans as you now just learned, that you squirted on him a little.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth, his gaze never leaving yours as he tasted what's remained of you on his fingers.

"Hmm, taste just like a peach."

let me know if you want me to start the journey for Logan & Peach 😉

[covenofagatha]

Birthday Girl

On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)

“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them. 

You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group. 

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan. 

“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand. 

“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag. 

“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk. 

“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!” 

You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her. 

Everyone except for you. 

Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it. 

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.” 

“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way. 

“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time. 

“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops. 

Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms. 

“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!” 

You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner. 

“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal. 

When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor. 

“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea. 

You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow. 

“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear. 

It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects. 

“Hello?” It’s actually her. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?” 

“Y/n? Is that you?” 

“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though. 

“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?” 

“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely. 

Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone. 

“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested. 

“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!” 

“What bar are you at?” 

“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at. 

“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?

You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand. 

“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second. 

“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.

Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her. 

“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends. 

The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you. 

And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches. 

It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders. 

“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words. 

She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says. 

Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now. 

Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers. 

“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck. 

Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.” 

The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle. 

“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused. 

“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.” 

“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?” 

“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.” 

She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.” 

“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink. 

“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions. 

“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”

A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued. 

She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood. 

“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly. 

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair. 

She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better. 

“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it. 

“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth. 

“Anything for my favorite student.” 

And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself. 

“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 

She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away. 

“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.

You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.” 

She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.” 

You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.

“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room. 

She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks. 

“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks. 

“M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?” 

Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip. 

“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.

You fall asleep immediately. 

***

Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you. 

The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit. 

You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you. 

And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions. 

You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night. 

No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.

“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low. 

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out. 

“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying. 

“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body. 

“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?” 

You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you. 

You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back. 

“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying. 

Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.

“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.” 

She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.” 

You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” 

She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair. 

“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.

Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation. 

“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile. 

“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness. 

“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole. 

“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard. 

“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth. 

“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”

“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty. 

She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table. 

“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!” 

She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth. 

“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath. 

“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.” 

Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table. 

You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?” 

A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.” 

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

It's Like Supernatural (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: You didn’t believe in ghosts, so you naturally ignored the warnings that the house of your dreams was haunted. 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation, ghost sex

A/N: This is a quick one-shot inspired by some behind the scenes looks at ghost!Agatha (the hottest ghost around, truly), my lifelong dream to own a house like the one in Practical Magic, as well as my endless love for Supernatural by Ariana Grande. I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think! :)

Tag-List: @mrsines @chiar4anna

When you heard the house you were interested in buying was haunted, you didn’t think much of it. Locals loved ghost stories, and you assumed this was just another tall tale to spook off tourists. 

Even if you believed in ghosts, which you didn’t, that wasn’t going to stop you from purchasing the home of your dreams. It was a beautiful Victorian house that was arguably far too large for just yourself, with three whole floors to decorate and make your own. There were sprawling gardens and even a large greenhouse already filled with a variety of plants you couldn’t even begin to name.

You wondered if the realtor had been tending to them.

It was perfect, and you couldn’t believe how cheap it was. The realtor seemed far too eager, and a bit surprised, when you settled on it, but you chalked it up to desperation to make a sale. 

When you had moved the majority of your belongings in, you decided it didn’t matter if this alleged ghost was real or not, absolutely nothing would ever make you want to leave. 

If only you knew how very wrong you were.

Things seemed normal, at first. The house was everything you dreamed it to be. From what you were able to get out of the very quiet realtor and even more closed off locals, the house had been abandoned since its last owner died. There wasn’t much information on her, but she apparently gained a rather interesting reputation, based on the horrified expressions on their faces whenever you asked about her.

Agatha Harkness. 

There was a portrait of her hanging above the fireplace in the library. It was one of the things that caught your eye the first time touring the property. She was beautiful, with wild dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes that almost seemed to follow you around the room. There was a locket around her neck that appeared to be a family heirloom, maybe. Her red lips were twisted upwards, forming an almost diabolical smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

Maybe there was a reason the locals all seemed to fear her.

Things changed a few weeks after you moved in. It wasn’t much, at first. You left your laptop on the kitchen counter one morning before leaving, and when you came back home that evening you found it on the dining room table. Maybe you moved it and didn’t remember, you decided as you started your dinner. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

Only, things you placed around the house kept showing up elsewhere, and the more it happened the crazier you felt. You left a book in your bedroom and found it in your bathroom. The reading glasses you always kept in the sitting room wound up in the dining room. Clothes you swore you folded and set in your dresser were later found in a wrinkled heap in one of the spare guest rooms. 

It finally reached the point where you wondered if someone was breaking in, but surely an intruder would do more than just play little pranks on you. 

You didn’t even take the time to consider if the whispers and rumors of a ghost were real, you knew it was just your overactive imagination playing tricks on you. Work had been more stressful than usual, this was surely just a case of exhaustion. You most likely moved all of those items and couldn’t remember, that’s all.

It was around a month after you moved in when you decided to do some redecorating. You’d kept the majority of the paintings the previous owner, Agatha, had collected. They were interesting pieces, most of them seemed to be hundreds of years old. But there were a few you were looking to swap out, the portrait in the library included.

One rainy Saturday afternoon you grabbed a ladder, trudging into the library. Your eyes briefly flickered up at the portrait, and felt the strange sensation that the haunting blue eyes were watching you. Climbing up, you steadied yourself and made sure your feet were secure as you raised your arms, grasping onto the frame. Tugging lightly, you were perturbed when it didn’t budge.

Odd, but it did appear to be rather old, maybe it was stuck on one of the nails. Readjusting the position of your feet on the ladder you leaned forward, pulling harder than you did the first time. The painting still wouldn’t move. You tried everything, lifting and even trying to turn it, but it wouldn’t move.

Questioning your strength, you attempted to get it off the wall one more time, your feet nearly sliding off the ladder as you quickly grabbed onto the mantle of the fireplace stopping you from toppling backwards. 

“Not very strong, hm?” 

A sense of panic overtook you and you lost your balance, hitting the floor with a loud thud as the floorboards beneath you creaked. You whipped your head around, wondering who said that, whilst coming to the startling realization you weren’t alone.

Maybe someone had been breaking in.

Looking up, you felt your heart stop as you saw a translucent figure floating in the air. You did a double take, looking between the figure and the portrait on the wall while struggling to catch your breath.

It couldn’t be. 

The figure looked down at you, a predatory grin forming on her lips. Her long hair was so pale it appeared to be white and it was draped over her shoulders cascading down her back. The longer you stared at her the more you realized that it was Agatha Harkness.

But that’s impossible. Ghosts weren’t real.

“I…I don’t,” you barely managed to get out, at a loss for words as Agatha let out a loud cackle, the sound bouncing off the walls.

“Not very clever, either,” Agatha mused, tilting her head to the side as she gazed down at you. “I would have thought my rather obvious haunting over the past few weeks would have been enough to make you notice.”

Your head spun as you listened to her talk, and every odd occurrence over the past month started to make sense. 

“You’re less chatty than I thought you’d be,” Agatha observed, floating down until she was inches away from your face. “Although the silence is certainly better than that incessant singing you do in the shower. Ever heard of voice lessons?”

Your eyes widened as you realized she had been spying on you, and your cheeks grew hot at the knowing smirk she gave you. 

Clearing your throat, you managed to stand up, taking a step back to create some distance between you and…the ghost. 

“Is this the part where you send me running so you can keep the house for yourself?” You asked, shocking both yourself and Agatha.

“She makes jokes,” Agatha retorted, raising her hand to tap her index finger across her cheek as she stared at you. “And no, dear, if I wanted you gone I would have sent you away like the others.”

“The others?” You questioned, thinking back to your many conversations with the realtor and vaguely remembering being told you were the first person to have purchased the house.

Agatha appeared to watch the gears turn in your head as she came closer to you, slowly circling you. “There’s a reason no one else ever bought this house. They all wanted to renovate it, or tear it down and build some monochromatic slab. Modern architecture is truly a disgrace.”

She spat, frowning at the memory before looking back at you, an intrigued expression on her face. “But you’re different. I could tell.”

“So you’re a ghost because you want to keep your house intact?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Agatha scoffed, as if that was the craziest question you could have asked her. She motioned to her wispy form. “This was a calculated risk that I plan on reversing. Eventually.”

“I see,” you said, taking in what she said, while also wondering why you were having a conversation with a ghost instead of doing what any sane person would have done. Moved. But there was the doom and gloom that was the current housing market, so maybe you were the sane one. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming up and down your body in a way that left you shivering. “I’m glad you asked, doll.”

You made a mental note to start listening to people more often, especially when they try to tell you a house is haunted.

Agatha Harkness was one of the most intriguing people, or rather ghosts, you had ever met. She was full of contradictions, and you sometimes struggled to decipher if she was lying to you or not. It was clear she wasn’t used to sharing her space, in this ghostly form or not, and had absolutely zero sense of boundaries.

It was also hard to establish ground rules when she could just float through locked doors. 

After a while you got her to stop listening in on your concert showers, although you swore you’d sometimes catch a glimpse of her in the bathroom mirror as you were washing your hair. You didn’t want to explore why the thought of her lurking made you as excited as it did.

She was brilliant, clearly, and you had difficulty wrapping your brain around the existence of not only ghosts, but witches. After your conversation in the library, she instructed you on how to open the passageway behind one of the bookshelves, which revealed a room tucked away from prying eyes. It was filled with countless items you couldn’t begin to recognize, as well as dozens of vials filled with colorful liquids and various animal skulls.

After you nearly fainted from the overwhelming and shocking turn of the day’s events, Agatha casually informed you that she was a witch. A centuries old witch. What led to her current spirit state was unclear, and the light prying you attempted got you nothing but icy cold glares, so you let it go. 

She did seem to have a rather interesting plan to get her corporeal form back, although you understood absolutely none of it no matter how many times she impatiently explained it to you.

You thought it best to leave all magical and potentially illegal activities to her.

Agatha wasn’t kept to the house, a fact you realized one morning a few weeks after her rather blunt introduction. She could come and go as she pleased, and you never questioned where she floated off to, choosing instead to enjoy the welcome peace and quiet. 

She’d come back hours or sometimes days later more annoyed than when she left, so you assumed wherever she was heading didn’t do much to lift her spirits. Pun intended. 

You chose not to linger on why you were beginning to enjoy her presence more than her absence. 

After a while the two of you settled into a rather comfortable routine. You had learned Agatha was able to muster the energy to physically grasp onto objects, hence the rather annoying saga of ‘I thought I left this here but it ended up there’. She enjoyed showing off for you, making a show of stirring your tea or tending to the plants in the greenhouse (it was there you met her familiar Scratchy, the rabbit that was most definitely not a rabbit).  

There was the one time you were getting dressed and your bra was unhooking after you were certain you secured it, but Agatha swore up and down she had nothing to do with it.

You both ignored the fact that you could feel her icy presence behind you as her hands delicately played with your hair. 

It was nice, in a way, sharing the enormous house with someone else. Even if that someone else was a ghost, who was really a witch, who most definitely had murdered countless people. But, there was a different problem that had been brewing since she revealed herself to you.

You were embarrassingly attracted to her. 

It was unclear where the supernatural pull came from, but she soon became the only thing on your mind. You were entranced, completely under her spell, and all you could do was enjoy having her attention. The feeling of her watching you, the almost hungry look in her eyes as she stared at you left you wanting more. 

You couldn’t help but wonder how long she was able to use her hands before fading.

As much as you tried to hide your crush it was becoming increasingly obvious, if the way Agatha leered and smirked at you was any indicator. You had never been good at this sort of thing, and the added complication of pursuing a, possibly temporary, ghost left you reeling at how to make a first move. 

It didn’t help that Agatha was a relentless flirt, saying endless cheeky one liners and innuendos, delighting in the way your cheeks would flush. It sometimes felt like she was testing how far you would let her go before squawking and retreating to the comfort of your bedroom. 

Lately you decided to push her buttons in the only way you felt comfortable trying. Since outwardly flirting wasn’t your strong suit, you decided to take a more subtle approach. You were curious to see if she would take the bait.

After a particularly interesting dinner, which consisted of you eating and Agatha watching you eat, you had left more flustered than before. While Agatha watching you eat was a normal occurrence (she claimed she missed food), this evening was a bit different. You had tried a new recipe she taught you, and couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips at the taste of the vodka sauce.

Agatha’s reaction was different, though. As you were trying to determine if her eyes were darker than they normally appeared, the ghost had moved from her normal spot of hovering over the center of the table to settling beside you. 

Swallowing your bite of pasta you glanced at her, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the way her eyes were locked on your lips.

“Can I help you with something?”

Agatha refrained from commenting, silently vanishing from the room in her typical dramatic fashion. Rolling your eyes, you finished your dinner alone, all whilst replaying her reaction to your moan. 

Later that night you got settled in the bathroom, stripping down and turning on your shower. Steam filled the room, you’d always preferred the water to be just below scalding, and once you were satisfied with the temperature you got in. Lathering your body with soap, you peeked out of the shower to see if Agatha would appear. However, if the ghost was in the room, she wasn’t making her presence known. 

You continued on with your shower, the steam starting to fog up the mirrors. It was then the idea hit you. Your hands roamed down, and you spread your legs. Initial hesitation and embarrassment pushed aside in favor of imagining Agatha’s heated gaze once more, you teased yourself. 

Using two fingers you played with your clit, circling the sensitive nub until you let out a soft moan at the sensation. You were already on edge after dinner, and every time you closed your eyes you pictured Agatha staring at you. Leering as she licked her lips. Letting out another moan, you teased your entrance, pretending that Agatha’s fingers were your own as you slowly pushed your index finger in with ease. 

You were soaked, and not from the downpour of scorching water flowing around you. Adding a second finger, you took your time, enjoying the slight stretch as your inner walls fluttered. You couldn’t help but think about how much fuller you would feel with Agatha’s fingers inside you, her lithe digits hitting the spots you had difficulty reaching on your own. 

The name slipped past your lips before you were fully aware of what you were saying.

“Agatha,” you whimpered, the sound of your voice cutting through the downpour of water. 

Closing your eyes, you cupped your right breast with your other hand. Using your thumb and index finger to lightly tug on your nipple, you imagined Agatha standing behind you as her hands roamed your body. It was far too easy of a fantasy to slip into, as you were lost in your pleasure, increasing the pace of your fingers as you fucked yourself.

Nearing your release, you tilted your head back, the warm water cascading down as you let out a louder moan. You were so close, you could nearly taste it; an earth shattering orgasm just out of reach. Chasing your high, you roughly pulled on your left nipple, as Agatha’s name escaped your lips once more, stronger this time.

“Agatha.”

There was a faint, cool sensation behind you and you didn’t have to turn around to know she was there. 

Of course she was. 

Any self consciousness you would have normally felt being exposed was absent, replaced by an overpowering desire for Agatha to have you in whatever way she was capable of. Your fingers slowed as you made your thrusts more intentional, curling them just right and letting out every gasp and whimper. The knowledge Agatha was watching you pushed you closer to letting go. 

But there was still something missing.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as an uncanny feeling washed over you. It was then you heard her voice whispering in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You look so desperate like this, moaning my name like a filthy whore,” Agatha murmured, and you let out a low groan in response, every word she uttered making you clench around your fingers.

“Agatha…”

“Come for me,” Agatha whispered, voice so low you barely heard her.

The reaction was instantaneous, obeying her words as your cunt spasmed around your fingers. Your legs quivered as you rode out your orgasm, feeling the tight coil in your lower stomach send a sweet sensation you felt all throughout your body. Slowing your fingers to a halt, you allowed yourself to revel in the feeling, Agatha’s presence still looming behind you as you came down from the high. 

Pulling your fingers out they were coated in your cum, as the water began to rinse them clean. Agatha moved, hovering in front of you. Her pupils appeared to be blown out as she gazed at you in a way that had you squirming. 

“Suck them clean,” Agatha ordered, a trace of amusement in her tone as she watched you eagerly follow her every command.

The strong effect she had on you was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, to the point where you were unable to think of anything besides the ghost. 

What was she doing to you?

Raising your fingers to your lips, you sucked on them, moaning at the taste of yourself on your tongue. You swore you heard Agatha let out a low growl, but when you raised your head she was gone. Disappearing as quietly as she had earlier that evening.

A wave of disappointment hit you, and you tried to ignore the sting of rejection as your gut churned. Turning the shower off, you grabbed your towel, drying yourself off before wrapping the towel around your body, securing it so it wouldn’t fall.

You should’ve known Agatha wasn’t really interested in you. She was probably bored, trapped in her current spectral state and saw you as an easy distraction.

The house was eerily quiet, save for the creaking of the floorboards as you entered your bedroom, and you were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that it took you a moment to realize that you weren’t alone.

Doing a double take, you found Agatha waiting for you. The ghost hovering near your bed, arrogant smirk painted on her features as she observed you. 

“Took you long enough,” Agatha said, appearing to be lounging on your pillows. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d drowned.”

“Nice to see you’d care if that were to happen,” you deadpanned, shifting uncomfortably as a chill overtook you, and not the type you had grown accustomed to from being in the ghost’s presence.

Agatha raised an eyebrow, but she refrained from responding. As you took a step closer to the bed, you went slack jawed upon seeing what was most definitely not on the bed earlier. A collection of your toys were laying in a neat row, having been sorted by both size and color, and it didn’t take you long to deduce who put them there.

Cackling at your reaction, the sound pleasantly ringing in your ears, Agatha motioned to the toys. 

“Well?”

Gulping, you nodded your head towards your most recent purchase. A purchase that was most definitely not inspired by Agatha’s apparent obsession with purple. The toy in question was one far bigger than what you’d usually use, and a lot thicker as well. It was a deep purple that caught your eye as you were scrolling through the website, and you may have pictured it stretching you out as Agatha cooed filthy praises in your ear. 

“Dirty girl,” Agatha said quietly, gleeful as you joined her on the bed, your towel hitting the floor. Her eyes fixated on your naked form as she instructed you to lay against the pillows. “Work yourself up to take it, dear. I don’t want to break my newest toy just yet.”

You felt yourself beginning to ache again, and the anticipation of what was to come combined with the ravenous glances Agatha kept casting at you ensured you were bound to have another explosive orgasm.

Grabbing one of your smaller toys, a light pink finger vibrator, you watched Agatha settle in beside you. It was just enough feeling her beside you that you could picture what it would be like if she could actually touch you. 

Teasing the toy, you turned it on, the vibrations against your clit nearly causing you to let go far too early. 

Agatha let out a rather guttural noise, as she leaned in closer to you. “So eager. You’re just dripping to be fucked, aren’t you honey?”

Her words only served to motivate you, as you pushed the toy through your folds, quietly crying out as it filled you. This was a toy you used more frequently, and you knew the exact speed and way to make yourself unravel without much effort. 

Agatha appeared to be just as entranced as she whispered absolute filth in your ear, watching you fuck yourself closer to an orgasm with every thrust. It was unsurprising Agatha was so skilled at dirty talk, and you were even less surprised at how every word that left her translucent lips had you more wet than before. Your cunt aching as you neared your climax.

“You’re taking the toy so well,” Agatha encouraged you as you let out another whine. “This pussy was meant to be fucked open. It’ll look so perfect stretched around my cock.”

You couldn’t stop yourself as your vision turned white, hips thrusting as Agatha cooed. You came on the toy, crying out even louder than before. The vibrations quickly became too much as you felt your walls quiver and legs shake from being overstimulated. Your arms felt like jelly but you managed to turn the toy off, leaving it inside you for a few more moments as you enjoyed the afterwave of your orgasm. 

Unfortunately, Agatha was even less patient in the bedroom than she was at any other given moment. You felt something cold grasp onto your hands and with a startled gasp you realized Agatha’s fingers were grabbing onto the toy. With a gentle but quick pull, the toy was out of you and tossed on the floor. You couldn’t help but cry out at being left empty, which made Agatha far too pleased.

You watched with curious eyes as Agatha mustered the strength to be able to grab the original toy you selected, feeling another tingle between your legs at the sight of her holding the large dildo.

“You should feel lucky I’m not in my full corporeal form just yet,” Agatha said, voice low with want as she approached you. 

“I wish you were,” you allowed yourself to say, words becoming more difficult to form from how desperate you were to come again. 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Agatha warned, raising the toy to tease your entrance, gently rubbing it up and down and you squealed as it brushed against your clit. “I’m going to ruin you, pet.”

You were soaked, completely dripping onto your comforter, at this point, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you watched Agatha push the head of the toy inside you. You moaned, feeling yourself being forced to take it as she let out a groan as well.

“What I’d give to feel you clenching around me,” Agatha said, eyes glued to your cunt stretching around the girth. 

Your head thrashed as the pain of being fucked with something larger than you had ever taken began to take over. 

“It’s too much,” you whimpered, hips jerking as Agatha laughed again, forcing you to take more of it. 

“You’ll take whatever I want you to,” Agatha informed you, her words causing your clit to throb. “And I want to watch this pretty pussy be stuffed full of my cock.”

When the toy was into the hilt, Agatha gave you a moment to adjust. You had never felt so full and your hips desperately bucked for more as you writhed from the sensation. The pain beginning to be replaced with a carnal desire for her to fuck you senseless. When Agatha deemed you ready, she moved, her hand fucking the toy into you hard and deep. 

The only noise in the room was the sound of Agatha fucking into your sopping cunt, the wet slaps mixing in with both of your moans. Agatha seemed determined to make you come before she lost the ability to command the toy. 

“I know you can give me one more,” Agatha urged you on, increasing her pace, and you knew you would have difficulty walking in the morning. 

All you could do was cry out in agreement, meeting her for every thrust as you felt your head begin to spin. It was too much, and you weren’t sure how anything else would ever compare. 

“You’re going to come for me,” Agatha breathed out, appearing more desperate than before. You wondered how much of an effect this was able to have on her, given her current state. “And when you do, I want you to scream my name as you soak my cock. Can you do that for me?”

Whimpering as you nodded, Agatha gave one more thrust of her hand as you came for a third time, nearly blacking out in the process as your eyes clamped shut. Your back arched upwards as you squeezed your thighs together, keeping the toy trapped inside you as you felt cum dripping down your thighs. 

It was an otherworldly experience, to the point where you briefly wondered if she had killed you from the pleasure she had just granted you. 

Coming back down to earth, you panted as you collapsed onto the bed. Your body was dripping with sweat and you felt sticky and filthy, but too exhausted to take another shower. It was unclear how long you remained there with the toy nestled deep inside you. Agatha had drifted back up beside you, offering you sweet praises as you enjoyed your afterglow. 

Eventually, the sensation was too much and you managed to muster the strength to gently pull the toy out of you, letting out a satiated gasp when it was removed. Your entire body ached as you made a note to clean the toys, and your bedding, in the morning. 

But now, as sleep became imminent, you tossed your comforter off the bed, wiggling under your top sheet as Agatha gazed at you.

“That was amazing,” you said sleepily, head hitting the pillow as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “I’m sorry I didn’t return the favor.”

Agatha shook her head, an unusually soft smile on her face. “Don’t be. I enjoyed the show.’

Drifting off, you blinked, eyelids feeling heavier with each second you kept them open. 

“Besides,” Agatha mused as you felt yourself succumb to sleep. “You can return the favor once I get my purple back.”

You made another note to actually listen to her plans for getting back into an actual body in the morning. Maybe there was something you could do to speed along the process. For no particular reason, of course.

[msgexymunson]

Shotgun

Description: you're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 

A/n: do I have 10 WIPs? Yes. Do I have requests I'm working on? Also yes. So logically, I started a one shot from a smutty dream I had, that turned into a freaking long one. Enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll feed you to the fishes. Very smutty, a bit of angst, hella fluff! Reader is AFAB, cocky!experienced!Eddie x Virgin!band geek!fem!reader, very slight dub con in the beginning (touching over panties, explicit consent not given), female fingering receiving, dry humping, female oral receiving, p in v protected sex. 

❤️Reblogs are what keep me going; they keep Tumblr going, and my little black heart beating. Reblog my work and I'll love you forever sweetheart. ❤️

12.5k words (oops) 

Masterlist

"You know you guys can't handle this shit!" 

Eddie laughs, nearly spilling the beer cradled in his hand. 

Steve rolls his eyes, chucking his beer top into the campfire you guys had set up for the evening, the paint sparking briefly. 

"Come on Munson, pass it round, quit being a bitch." 

"Yeah Eddie, share the love!" 

Robin giggles as she clutches her chest dramatically. Shaking your head, you shift uncomfortably on the ground. It's not that you haven't been around this sort of stuff before, people you weren't too keen on have smoked once in your company. It wasn't even a moral thing, you were just a little scared of the effect. That, and the fact you were sitting right next to Eddie Munson. 

Eddie, the guy you've literally been frightened of since you saw him leaping on tables in the cafeteria. That was some time ago, and Robin had assured you he was a good guy. You trusted her judgement completely, hence why you'd even considered going camping with the three of them for the weekend. It didn't help the fact that you were just a band geek, not used to these sorts of get togethers. Hell, your closest friends played chess for fun. This was so out of your comfort zone that you felt like a deer in headlights. Only a week ago you had your first beer, at 21; the proper age. Now you were sucking back a brew in the woods at night, sitting next to the drug dealer of the area. 

It could just be the beer talking, but Eddie looks good right now. Every time he shook his mane of hair out of his face it had you biting your lip. He threw his head back when he laughed and the sight of that stretched neck of his had you clenching your thighs, feelings bubbling up that you'd never felt before. 

So when his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed you, a blunt pressed between his thick ringed fingers, you gasped, pulling your hand away as if it had been burned. 

"Come on, take it." 

Your tongue feels thick and swollen, sticking to the roof of your mouth. Words. Think of words. 

"Can't you, erm, pass it the other way?" 

"No, it always goes to the left sweetheart." 

Sweetheart.

Glad the low light hides your blazing cheeks at the pet name, you dip your eyes downward for fear of them exposing you. You played the flute for Christ's sake. This was not your thing. 

"I-I, well, I-" 

"You not smoked before?"

Robin's voice cuts through the myriad of noises in your head, making you turn violently. 

"I just, I never-" 

"Look at me." 

Those words from him sing through your nerves, making you forget any thought you had, or anticipated. As you turn, Eddie's dark eyes bore into you. 

"You trust me?" 

No. A thousand times no.

"Yes." 

"Come here." 

He shifts and gets up on his knees, joint pressed between pouting lips as he lights it again, the cherry blazing almost as hot as your blood right now. You mimic his movements, rising on shaky thighs to kneel in front of him. 

"Right, I'm gonna take a pull, and blow the smoke, when I breathe out, you breathe in, 'kay?" 

His words are sweet, and a little condescending, an edge of talking down that just stirs up your insides further, guts a puddle. 

"Okay." 

He cups his hands to his face, gesturing for you to do the same. Raising your shaking hands, you touch them delicately with his. He flips his hands so they are on the outside, cupping yours, pushing them together with a lot more force than you did. 

He's close, so close. Your breath hitches in your throat, those deep eyes a couple of inches from yours. Heat radiates from his body, your skin itching almost from its blistering warmth. That could just be from the fire. Or the fire in between your legs. 

He smells good. There's weed there, sure, and the beer you've all been drinking, and some aftershave you couldn't place, maybe bergamot? An undercurrent lies beneath it all, of man and skin, that makes your toes curl. 

He breathes into you then, the swirling smoke trying to escape your cupped hands. 

You inhale deeply, focusing on the feel of Eddie's rough hands, on his touch. You breathe in until there's nothing left and hold it. His eyes don't leave yours, sparkling in the fire light. 

The exhale hurts more. Breathing out smoke, you revel in the fact you didn't cough or startle. The feeling of him letting go of your hands is far worse. 

A ringing, whooping noise finally reaches your ears, between the sound of your own blood pumping. Robin and Steve are cheering like morons, but your gaze doesn't leave Eddie. 

"There you go. Good girl." 

Damn. 

A sharp intake of breath pulls into your lungs and straight to your heat. The pure shock and desire those two words drew from you have you dropping backwards, butt slamming into the pine needle dusted ground. 

"Hey you OK?" Robin's hand on your shoulder distracts you briefly and you flash a weak smile. 

"Sure, just went to my head a little, I'm good." 

Eddie's hand reaches over you, passing the blunt to Robin. You dare not look him in the eye, fearful that everything you felt was written all over your innocent face. Out of your periphery, you can tell he's facing you. Suddenly the fire was extremely interesting. 

Robin has a couple of tokes, and tries a third when Steve waves at her. 

"Quit hogging it!" 

"OK, don't get your panties in a twist!" Passing it to Steve with a loud huff, he takes it and breathes deep. And promptly coughs his guts out. 

Robin and Eddie cackle, and even you can spare a giggle at the irony. 

"Told you Harrington. Even the little band cutie took it better than you!" 

"Fuck off Munson." 

Hell, he knows who I am. And he called me cute.

This is Eddie. Scary, metal head, drug dealer Eddie. Eddie who all of a sudden stirs your insides up and makes your head dizzy. Eddie who you now realise is actually goddamn gorgeous. 

Eddie takes a hit and turns to you. 

"You wanna try smoking it sweetheart?" 

Heart hammering in your ribs, you manage to speak. 

"C-can you do, that thing, again?" 

His smile is dipped in sin as he scoots nearer to you, and you copy him. Suddenly this seems more intimate, sitting on the ground, twisting to face each other, inches away. He takes a hit and holds it, gesturing at you to lean closer. The way he tilts his head, you could almost believe he's going to kiss you. This time, he cups your face, blowing smoke at you. It's so close his lips brush yours ever so softly. 

You're not sure if your inhale was intentional or a shocked gasp, but in the smoke goes. 

Did he mean to do that? 

One look into his eyes tells you yes. There's a cockiness to his grin, the devil dancing across his face. 

So, did he do it because he likes you, or is he just messing with you? Only Eddie knows the answer to that. 

You exhale, less than an inch from his full lips. Time stops. That is until Steve and his loud mouth break the spell. 

"Come on, get a room you guys!" He practically yells, throwing a twig in your direction. 

You snap your head away from Eddie and stare at Steve with wild eyes. 

"I-I wasn't, we- we weren't-" 

"We weren't? Well, that's a damn shame."

As you glance back at Eddie he's leaning on propped up elbows, looking so sure of himself that it's annoying, bordering on making you angry. 

Cheeks flooding with warmth, your mouth forms words without checking with your brain first. 

"Y-you know what you are Eddie?" 

He tilts his head at you, still smirking, and gestures a hand willing you to continue. 

"A cocky mother fucker." 

The grin falls from his face as he looks at you in shock. Robin and Steve practically piss themselves laughing at your sudden outburst. 

"Shit Eddie you better watch out!" Robin laughs out. 

"Yeah, that kitty's got claws dude." Steve agrees. 

Embarrassed at your own words, you risk glancing at Eddie. You were expecting him to be upset, angry even. That's not the case; he looks impressed. 

"Shit, yeah, I can see that. Didn't know you had it in you sweetheart." 

Smiling to yourself, you stretch your legs and wiggle your feet. You impressed him. Your turn for a smug smile. 

Pretty soon the high starts to settle in; a warmth seeps through your bones and a tingle spreads from your head into your body. It feels like you're quivering whilst sitting still. Steve offers you another beer but you turn it down, well aware that being too foggy right now would be a bad idea. Especially since Eddie has been creeping closer. Now you're side by side, hips so close any time he moves he brushes against you. 

The fire dies down, turning to embers. The beer coat has vanished, leaving you shivering. Steve and Robin are already under a blanket; you can see Robin's eyes are close to closing. 

"You ok there sweetheart? Cold?" 

"I-I'm O-OK." 

"No you aren't, you're shaking." 

Without a further word he's taking off his jacket and putting his arm firmly around you. Whatever space there was between you has melted away, sides now flush. 

You could say the same for your face. This may well be the closest you've been to a boy. Well, a man. He drapes the jacket over the pair of you, covering your crossed legs and his lap, and rubs his hand smoothly up and down your arm to warm you. Little does he know how much he's warming your insides, each stroke sending a buzzing desire through your limbs. 

Steve's chatting away; yet another story about Dustin spilling from his lips when you feel Eddie's other hand snaking underneath the jacket, coming to rest on your thigh. 

Eyes wide, you flick your gaze towards him. 

"What are you doing?" You whisper urgently. 

"Just warming you up sweetheart." 

He says it so sweetly, yet it belies the movements of his hand, moving further up your leg to run soft circles just underneath the hem of your skirt. 

You can't hear a word Steve is saying, unable to concentrate on anything but Eddie's touch and the whooshing blood in your ears. No one had ever touched you like this, not once.  

Robin's shrill voice breaks through the fizzing in your head; once again her and Steve are arguing over something. You might have heard Vickie being mentioned but you can't be sure. 

Eddie's hand trails higher, within reach of your panties. Breath catching in your throat, you mean to admonish him but all that comes out is a breathy noise. 

"Eddie…" 

He rests his chin on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ear. 

"You want me to stop?" 

You don't answer, you can't. You're frozen, unable to move, unable to make a sound lest a moan escape your lips. 

He wouldn't dare, not with Steve and Robin here, would he?

He would. 

Eddie runs a finger gently down the front of your panties. The softest touch, a whisper of a thing. Then he does it again, up and down, pressing the cotton of your briefs into your private parts. 

You can feel your insides fluttering, a burning settling between your legs, being stoked by every barely there touch. Suddenly, he presses down on something that has you softly whimpering and clenching at nothing. A tingle shoots down your legs to the tips of your toes. 

You hear a small noise; it's Eddie chuckling in his throat. It snaps you out of your frozen state and you move to get up. 

"I'm going to bed guys." 

Standing abruptly, you let Eddie's jacket fall from you as he scrambles to keep it over his own lap. 

You turn to your tent and hear Steve and Robin wish you goodnight, and mumble about going to bed soon too. 

"Night guys!" 

"Want any company sweetheart?" 

There he is, sitting with that arrogant look on his face. 

"Goodnight, Eddie." 

You say it firmly, even though your resolve is as substantial as tissue paper. Stomping over to your tent, you turn on your camp light and sit on your double inflatable bed, hugging your knees. 

Now that you're alone you realise how much that weed affected you. You feel airy, light as a feather, fingers and toes still tingling. 

It must be the drugs. 

You focus on the reality of the situation. You just let some guy touch you down there. Eddie Munson touched you over your panties. 

So why weren't you scared? Or angry at him? It's not like he asked. The fact is that  no one's done anything like that to you before, and it felt incredible. Left you aching for more. That thought was making you more frightened than anything else. 

You listen to the group slowly pad their way off to bed, rustles of clothing, mumbled 'goodnights', and tent zips. 

To the left of your tent was the huge six berth Steve had brought for him and Robin. It was fancy, you assume he 'borrowed' it from his parents. On the cusp of hearing there was bickering. You don't know how Robin and Steve became friends, or how they maintained it since they acted like an old married couple most of the time, but it seemed to work. After a few minutes soft snores echoed from the two of them. 

No sound comes from the other side, where Eddie had pitched a little coffin tent. You wonder if he's still sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He's probably smoking. 

Stop thinking about him.

You undress, only pulling an oversized t-shirt on to sleep in since your big sleeping bag is so warm. You'd bought a double one with your birthday money last year because you hated feeling restricted. It was a luxury but with all the camping you did it just made sense. Snuggling into its spacious depths, you attempt to quiet the raging hormones coursing through your veins. 

God, why is he so annoying and smug? It burned you up, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on. 

You slide your hand between your legs, pressing hard to try and quench the fire. He did something, you're sure of it. This wasn't natural for you, movements unsure and bordering on clumsy. When you run your finger through your naked folds you whimper, and see how wet you are. Gasping, you explore further, and find that spot, a hidden nub that sends a bolt of lightning to your core. 

"Oh fuck," you breathe out in a moan, starting to rub up and down. 

"You alright in there sweetheart?" 

Oh shit, he's right outside the tent. Was he there the whole time? 

"Yeah, what do you want?" 

"I'm cold, can I come in?" 

No.

"Y-yeah." 

He unzips the tent and enters, crouching to accommodate his height. Closing the tent up, he takes in his surroundings, letting out a low whistle. 

"Pretty sweet set up you've got here, your folks rich or something?" 

"No, I just do a lot of camping with the troop." 

"Huh?" He looks confused, falling to his knees to look you in the eyes. 

"The girl scouts, I volunteer as a leader." 

The laughter that comes from him is loud and rich. 

"Fuck, you got that little innocent act down don't you?" 

It's your turn to look confused. 

"What on earth are you talking about Eddie?" 

He scoffs at you, clearly not buying it. 

"The cute little band geek thing, helping out with girl scouts. Shit, the whole 'can you do that thing again?' " He mimics your words from earlier and you flush crimson. 

"Eddie, I honestly don't know what you're going on about. I never smoked before, I hadn't even had a beer before my 21st last week. I've never even- no one's done what you did, outside." 

Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor. 

"You're fucking with me." 

You shake your head, lips pressed tight. 

"Well, now I feel like an asshole." He huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 

"Well maybe you should, you never asked." 

"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were one of those freaky band kids. You kept looking at me like you were gonna eat me alive, I thought I was in for a rough night." He laughs, shooting a gaze at you. 

"Well you thought wrong." You turn your head, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 

"I'll go if you want. Want me to leave?" 

Yes. 

"No." 

A smile spreads slowly across his face, and he inches closer to you on his hands and knees, palms splayed on the foot of your air bed. 

"So, you want me to stay?" 

"No." 

"So… should I sleep in the doorway?"

A fair question, considering your answer. You laugh, looking back at him. His smile is softer, much less mocking. It's sweet almost, sanding down your rough edges. 

"Yeah, you can be my bodyguard. Protect me from bears and mountain lions and stuff." 

He chuckles and climbs over; you lay back on instinct, further away. Leaning right over you, his face is an inch from yours, hair tickling your cheek. 

"You know, I could protect this beautiful body of yours better if I was in the sleeping bag with you." 

"You don't give up, do you?" You whisper into his skin, sounding braver than you felt. 

"It was the sweet and innocent thing, did me in." 

He plants a soft kiss to your cheek, brushing your skin, and another, to the corner of your mouth that makes you shiver. 

"Tell me to stop." 

"Eddie, kiss me." 

His mouth is on your then, hot and heavy, tongue begging at your bottom lip. You give him an inch and he takes a mile, tongue sliding against yours with practised movements. Not expecting the full force of his kiss, you suddenly realise you're moaning into his mouth, hands coming to wind into his loose locks. 

He breaks away, chuckling at the way you chase his lips. 

"You know, you don't kiss like a good girl." 

Merely whining in response, you try to catch your breath. 

"So, can I get in the sleeping bag? I'm freezing out there." 

"Fine, just, no funny business." You point your finger at him, gasping when he licks it long and slow. 

"Nothing you don't want me to do." He winks, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. 

"What are you doing?" 

He ignores you, pulling his socks off and  unbuttoning his jeans. 

"I'm getting undressed. Why, expect me to sleep in my jeans?" 

You merely screw your nose up in response. Stripped down to his boxers, he clambers his lithe body onto the sleeping bag with you, all elbows and knees. Sighing, you move over to accommodate him but he wraps his arms around you. 

"Eddie, what-" 

"I'm cold sweetheart, just, warm me up a little?" 

Your heart is hammering in your ribcage with the realisation that you're entirely out of control of this situation. You allow him to hold you, and hesitantly rest your arm over him. Your head is snuggled into his neck, feeling more comfortable than you had any right to be. 

"Eddie, your legs are freezing." 

"I know! I wasn't lying, my sleeping bag's shitty." 

He pushes his thigh between yours, and you remember a split second too late that you're not wearing any bottoms. Suddenly, his bare thigh is pressed against your naked heat. You're praying to any Gods that might be listening that he doesn't notice, attempting to stay as still as possible. 

He's warming up slowly, but you're stiff as a post, trying not to focus on his thigh and the slight pressure it's putting on your most delicate parts. 

"So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sweetheart?" 

"What?" You whisper into the soft skin of his neck.

"Well, I came out of my tent to see if you were still awake, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning." 

"N-no, I wasn't!" 

"Quit lying, I can feel your cunt on my leg." 

You nearly choke on your own saliva. 

"Eddie, you can't just say that!"

You hit him on the chest. He just laughs, dragging your little fist to his mouth to kiss it. 

"I can when you're soaking my leg." 

Opening your mouth to respond, all words escape you. Especially when he grinds his thigh against your folds. Instead of words, a whimper breaks from your lips. 

"Yeah? That good sweetheart?" 

The smugness is back, but you can't find it in you to care, not when he rocks his hips and the force of his leg sets loose a roll of pleasure. He's hard, it's pressing into your hip. 

A lean arm curls around you, his thick thumb finding its way to your chin to lift it upwards. You stare into his darkened eyes as they dart to your lips and back up. 

All resolve is dissolved like ash in the rain as you feel the intensity of his stare and the warmth of him between your thighs. You crash your lips to his desperately, hips chasing friction. When his heavy tongue slips into your mouth you respond in kind, needy and vigorous. 

He takes his thigh away and you huff at the loss, but it's not for long, not when that hand of his is stroking down your front, lightly massaging your hardened nipples and chasing down to your stomach. He cups your mound, one finger pushing down on your swollen nub. 

"Eddie." 

It's a whimper, a plea into his open mouth. Responding by biting your bottom lip softly, he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance gently. His finger slips inside then and you clench around it immediately, moaning at the foreign feeling. It's odd, yes, but it's so good that you cry out. 

"Gotta be quiet sweetheart, don't want anyone hearing me fuck you with my fingers." 

His crude words are peppering your insides with fire, the evidence of your arousal seeping out of you. Humming in response, you bite your lip, clinging desperately to his side. 

He slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your face. You're slick jawed, eyebrows knitted tight, hips rolling with each thrust of his hand. 

"Fuck you're so tight, can barely fit my finger in." 

"Eddie, no one's ever-" 

"Shhh, I fuckin' know sweetheart. Gonna make you feel really good. Just enjoy it." 

He curls his finger inside you, incessantly stroking at something that's making your legs tense up and your insides flutter around him, the heel of his hand flat and hard against that spot again. 

"Oh my God!" You whisper urgently, fingernails digging into his sides. 

"I know baby, feels good yeah?" 

"Uh huh" you manage to breathe out as your eyes squeeze shut. 

The pressure collating in your tummy is building and building as he speeds up, finger reaching deep inside. It releases, and flows from you, wave after wave crashing down and washing away everything but Eddie. 

You muffle your cries of pleasure in the skin of Eddie's chest, resisting the urge to clamp your teeth into his flesh.

As you come down, he releases his digit with a wet sucking sound that probably would have made you embarrassed five minutes ago, but now it's just inconsequential. 

"Still with me?" He asks softly as he hugs you close. 

"Barely" You mumble; he chuckles at your reply. 

He rolls you on top of him, moving your legs so you're straddling him. His hard on is pressing firmly into your privates, your slick dampening the front of his boxers immediately. 

"Eddie, I'm not- I can't have sex with-" 

"Sweetheart, you trust me?" 

Yes. 

"No."

There's that look again, that edge of mocking that isn't making you annoyed anymore, it's making you want to pull his underwear down and slip him inside of you. 

"I'm not gonna fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Relax sweetheart." 

His hands are on your ass, moving you against him to grind on his rock hard bulge. Your eyes widen, the friction so much better than his thigh. 

He lets out a stifled moan, and damn if it isn't the best noise you've heard in your life. 

His hands trail under your shirt as you take over moving against him, feeling the shape of him under you. Tugging at the hem, he looks up at you with pleading eyes. 

"Can I- can I take this off?" 

All feelings of modesty have fled and you whip your shirt over your head and fling it across the tent. 

"Fuck, look at you." 

Leaning forward he takes your nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around and around. 

"Eddie, oh Holy fuck!" 

Your movements become faster and sloppy, so he grabs you by the hips to slow you down. 

"You know what I think?" He says, in between wet open mouthed kisses to your breasts, "I think you are a freak. You just didn't know it yet." He chuckles darkly, and sucks hard at one of your nipples. 

Your moan is loud and bordering on pornographic as you rut yourself against him harshly, all pretence of keeping quiet forgotten as your stomach tightens again in thick knots of pleasure. 

"Oh Eddie, I'm- I'm gonna cum oh fuckfuckfuck!" 

It all undoes at once as you release and clench around nothing, pussy throbbing with ecstasy. The bones in your body seem to disintegrate, muscles a distant memory as you flop against him. 

Eddie's not done. 

"Come on sweetheart, just a little longer." 

He encourages your hips to move again as you lay on his chest, skin glowing with perspiration. You can only grunt in response and start grinding against him again, the feeling so intense it has you clenching your teeth with pleasure pain. 

"That's it, fuck, I'm so close. There's my good girl, just, oh shit, little more." 

His praise bubbles through you and you speed up to meet his rutting hips, your slick sticking to the tops of your thighs. 

"Feel so good sweetheart, oh shit!" 

Lifting your head, you do it just in time to watch Eddie's eyes screw shut, mouth panting open with pleasure as he holds your hips in a death grip. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing. You press your lips to it softly, leaving feather dusted kisses over his neck and jaw as he comes down from his glowing high. 

"Holy shit." He laughs into you, kissing the top of your head over your hair. 

"Indeed" your reply is breathless as you melt into his front, attempting to ignore the stickiness. 

"As much as I'm enjoying you naked on top of me, I need to, er-" He gestures vaguely at himself with one hand. For a minute you think he's just going to go, but instead he wriggles out of the sleeping bag and whips his boxers down. 

You sit back on your heels, mouth agape as he casually cleans his spend with his underwear, wiping at the matted pubic hair. He's big; you could feel him under you but now you're faced with it you fear your eyes may bug out of your head. 

Glancing down, you can see some of his cum escaped its fabric confinement; a few drops glisten on your lower abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of you as you gather it on your fingers to feel the consistency, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It's stickier than you thought. You bring your thumb to your mouth and suck the excess off. It's salty, and strange, but not unpleasant exactly. 

When your eyes meet again Eddie looks awestruck, staring at you with the queerest expression on his face. 

Embarrassed at being caught, you hide your hand behind your back as if scolded. 

"Sorry, was that wrong?" 

"No, fuck no," he chuckles, looking away, "just have to stop looking at me like that sweetheart." 

"Why?" 

"Hell, 'cause you're making me hard again." 

"Oh." 

You shyly put your head down and settle back down in the sleeping bag's warmth. To your amazement Eddie gets in with you. 

"What are you doing?" 

"I thought you said I could stay? Or you had enough of me?" 

"N-no, I just… well, you're naked." 

He laughs hard at that. 

"So are you." 

Nothing about this seems to phase him, but your mind is swirling around and around. You'd just had your first orgasms ever, and now you're going to be sleeping naked with a man. With Eddie Munson.  

He's so much warmer now, skin hot to the touch. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you close, picking up your little camp light with the other hand, fiddling with it briefly before offering it to you. 

"Can you switch this thing off?" 

You reach and press the button, plunging you both into darkness. 

"Night sweetheart." 

"Night Eddie." 

********************

Early morning light wakes you, filtering through the tent fabric, coating everything in a warm glow. 

Eddie is still here, laying on his back, snoring softly with you cuddled to his chest. You'd hate to admit it, but you were glad. Glad he didn't run off in the night. Glad that last night had actually happened and wasn't just your over active imagination playing some cruel joke. 

Laying there, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you take a second to really think. 

What was actually happening? A part of you is frightened; scared that maybe Eddie sees your virginity as a challenge. Maybe that's why he stayed? You were staying another night after all. Or maybe this is a little holiday romance, something to keep him occupied whilst he's away. You'd had one before at band camp; nothing serious, just kisses and cuddles and radio silence on your return. 

What were Robin and Steve going to say? You contemplated waking him up right now to sneak him back to his own tent, but that thought went straight out the window when you caught the sound of their tent being unzipped. 

A soft bash to your tent startles you and makes Eddie snort himself awake. 

"Hey guys I'm making coffee! Come and join us!" 

Robin sings out and walks away to fuss over the fire it sounds like. 

Oh Holy shit balls. Hey guys?? She knew Eddie was here. And if she knew, Steve knew. 

Eddie smirks down at you as you stare at him with wild panic in your eyes. 

"Guess our little secret is out sweetheart." 

Before you can say a word he's unzipping the sleeping bag and fumbling about for his jeans, slipping them clumsily onto his legs. 

"Eddie!" You whisper urgently. He just chuckles. 

"What, want me to cut a hole in the back of the tent? Tunnel out?" 

He's got a point. 

"Eddie, please just don't-" 

"Hey, I ain't one to kiss and tell, relax." 

Before you can say another word he's perching a cigarette in between his plump lips and making his way out of the tent. 

Fuck. 

You pull on your clothes hastily, a skirt and t-shirt, and slide on your sneakers, attempting to untangle some of the messy bed head that had been created during the night. 

It's now or never. 

You exit the tent, attempting to look as casual about it as you can. 

"Morning guys." 

Steve smiles at you. 

"Howdy cowgirl." 

"Hi?" 

You return his greeting, utterly confused, but by the sound of Robin shushing him violently and Eddie coughing on his cigarette you can only assume he meant something by that which went over your head. Robin breaks the tension, talking a mile a minute. 

"Hey sleepy head! You want a coffee? I just made it over the fire. Crazy! I know it took forever. It'll wake you up. Not that you need waking up you're up and about and it's early! It's not like you had a long night. Well you might have how would I know anyway here's your coffee!!" 

Seems you might have gotten a little loud, why else would Robin be breaking the sound barrier? You don't say a thing, just smile gratefully and take your coffee, entirely avoiding Eddie's eyes, and try to wish the blood away from your darkening cheeks. 

"So, we thought we might have a swim in the lake in a couple hours when it's warmer, you in?" 

Steve asks and you nod, aware your voice right now is not to be trusted. 

So, after a little breakfast and small talk about the cold last night, which you put a particular emphasis on to try and explain away your little situation, you all go and change into your swimwear. 

In your tent you lay out your usual one piece, the plain black one you always wear with the troop, and the other set. The bikini you bravely bought but never wore, deeming it far too skimpy for camp. But this wasn't girl scouts. 

God damn he's already seen me naked, come on, be brave. 

Skimpy number it is. You wear it underneath your clothes and grab a towel and a book, readying yourself to join the others. 

Eddie and Steve walk ahead, talking obnoxiously loud; something you're quite glad of. At least they aren't whispering about you. 

Robin walks side by side with you, practically vibrating. 

"Just, whatever you wanna say, say it before you explode." 

The voice that exits her mouth is so high pitched you're surprised dogs didn't start barking. 

"You had sex with Eddie Munson!" 

"I did not!" 

"Totally did, we saw you!" 

You stop in your tracks, mouth hanging open.

"What the fuck Robin!" 

"Sorry, we didn't actually like, see you see you, we saw your shadows, 'cause of the light in your tent." 

"We- I- I mean, we didn't, like, have sex, we just- did something else." You settle at lamely. 

"Are you going to? He really likes you." 

You scoff at that, continuing your walk. 

"He's just trying to get in my pants, take my virginity. I doubt he'll even talk to me after." 

Robin's hand shoots out to grab your arm. 

"Oh, you don't know, do you?" 

Feeling utterly confused, you turn to face her. 

"What are you going on about?" 

"Eddie likes you, he had a crush on you in high school. He was the one that suggested inviting you and nearly killed me when I actually did." 

Your world turns sideways in your mind; everything is upside down, thoughts smashed, memories cut to ribbons in their wake.

"Huh? How- what?" 

"He was telling Steve like a week ago, I was listening in and opened my mouth as per usual. I tried to tell you, remember?" 

You rack your brains trying to come up with answers when a light bulb switches in your head. 

"Hang on, you said Eddie wanted me to go before, didn't you? I honestly thought you were just joking with me, I didn't think he knew who I was!" 

You reach the tree line and see the two boys a little further on, just on the tiny beach leading to the lake, stripping off their clothes. 

"But he was so- so sure of himself!" 

"Oh he's always like that. Pretty sure it's an act, he's actually super sweet when you get to know him." 

You look up and stare at Eddie in his swim shorts. He'd been naked last night, but with the low light and distraction of seeing his privates for the first time you hadn't had the opportunity to really look at him all over. 

He was lean and tall, but there was a broadness to his shoulders and a sinew to his muscles that made him stand out. Tattoos littered his frame, more than you thought he had but the detail was lost at this distance. You were walking closer, still staring at him, when he captures you. Smiling that smug grin of his he holds his arms out as if on display. 

"See something you like sweetheart?" 

On the edge of shying away, you look down; but then you remember Robin's words. He's the one with the crush on you. Feeling a little braver, bolstered by that thought, you walk closer, a couple of feet away from him, and stop. 

"You look really good Eddie." 

Pulling your t-shirt over your head, you smile at Eddie's reaction. Clearly not expecting such a bold move from you, his cheeks and neck are flushed pink. For once he seems speechless. You slip your skirt off and away, kicking it to one side. 

This leaves you in your tiny baby blue triangle bikini, with delicate daisies embroidered on the hem. For once, your cleavage is fully displayed, and the ties for the bottoms ride high on your hips. You slip two fingers under each tied side and pull them up ever so slightly. 

Eddie's eyes dart down and back up again, and you swear you see him swallow thickly in his throat. 

"Well, you swimming or not handsome?" 

Without a further glance you kick your shoes off and wade into the chilly water. 

OK, keep calm, just look at him now. 

Risking a quick peek back, you see him standing gormlessly on the sand, mouth hanging open. He looks so dorky, so unlike the Eddie you've seen so far that you giggle aloud. 

Steve calls out to him, already in the clear water. He's stumbling into the lake after you then as if a fire was lit underneath him. Robin makes her way in too, and pretty sure you're laughing and splashing each other in earnest, the boys taking turns in dunking each other underwater. 

Steve keeps screaming about his hair, which just makes you all laugh that little bit louder. Soon he's moping about it and swims off surprisingly fast. Robin says she wants to dry out and wanders back to the beach to read a little, leaving you and Eddie alone. 

He swims straight to you, bodies a couple of inches apart. Suddenly the water doesn't feel so cold, warmed by the heat he seems to pull from you just by being close. That ache is there again, wanting to be filled by Eddie. You try and shake the thought away. 

"Seems a little skimpy for a scout leader," he says, gesturing at your two piece. 

"Well, I don't wear this one with the troop," you reply, attempting to look blasé about it. 

"So, wore this just for me, sweetheart?" 

You shrug, but know your eyes betray you, honesty etched into the look you give him. 

"You did, didn't you? That's cute," he responds to his own question, reaching a hand up to hold you by the waist. All of a sudden his breath is in your ear, his other hand reaching up to your chest. 

"You look hot by the way, I like the little flowers," as he says it he runs a finger over the hem of your bikini bra making you shudder. 

"Eddie," you whisper, meaning to scold him but it just comes out a little too breathy for that. 

He continues to whisper in your ear, each word sending a butterfly loose in your swirling stomach.  "Wondering if I can stay in that tent of yours again. To stay warm?" 

You laugh, turning to face him. "That's not all you want and you know it." 

"Yeah?" He comes closer, lips so close to brushing yours, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger. You clench your thighs together as your eyes flutter shut. 

"Seems you want more as well," he laughs, pulling back from you. The frown that appears on your face tells him all he needs to know. 

As he moves away, his hand drops down, knuckles dragging slowly over your nipple, already pebbled by the water. 

"Maybe later princess." 

He turns to get out of the water. Furious with how forward he just was you shout after him. 

"Eddie, you are such-" 

"A cocky mother fucker?" He shouts back, stealing your thunder. 

You clench your fists, nearly losing it treading water, and decide to swim away to cool off. 

You're finding Robin's words hard to believe. He still seems so confident; maybe his little chat with Steve was a rouse to get you here so he could tease you. If he has liked you all this time, maybe it's just a sexual thing. Seduce the band geek. 

When the ache between your thighs is lessened by the burning muscles in your arms and legs you swim back to shore and dry off, laying on your towel to read. 

It's like the universe has it in for you today. A few more pages into your fantasy book and suddenly there's a sex scene. Usually, you'd just skim over the 'fruity bits' as your mom called them but now? Now it was as if Eddie had altered your brain chemistry and you found yourself absorbing every word in detail, thighs clenched together almost to the point of pain. 

"What you reading?" 

You jump visibly and look up to see Eddie couching over you, sodden locks leaving pitter patter drips on your legs. 

"Eddie, you're dripping." 

He smiles mischievously. 

"Am I making you wet, sweetheart?" 

You roll your eyes and replace your bookmarker, putting your book down to one side. 

"Yes, Eddie, I'm soaking wet for you." 

Triumph flashes over your features as you take in his wide eyes; so shocked at your reply he's nearly choking on air. 

"You are strange Eddie. You can give it but you can't take it, can you?" 

His eyebrows raise and he attempts to cover his flustered appearance. 

"I'm just surprised, I thought you were a good girl." 

Ignoring your heart thumping hard in your chest at those words, you shrug. 

"And here I was thinking it was because you've had a crush on me since high school." 

Eddie opens his mouth, and promptly closes it. When he speaks again it's quieter, almost like he's embarrassed. 

"Who- how did-" 

"Robin." 

"Of course." 

He stares at you then, all bravado gone. A moment passes where you both try and work out what this means, what the other is thinking.

Eddie coughs and stands up, breaking the spell. 

"We're heading back to have lunch, if you wanna come." 

He walks off then, not a further glance at you. Wondering if you upset him somehow, you gather your things and head back to camp. 

********************

Later that evening, you're huddled around a campfire again having a couple of beers; or, in the case of Steve, several beers. Eddie had been civil, nice even, but there was no edge to him right now. You're not sure if you miss it or not, realising that you had actually grown fond of the push and pull between you, and that grin of his. 

He'd disappeared at one point, and returned a little later with his acoustic guitar; beginning playing a little aimlessly, just background music to your tiny circle. He played beautifully; it really was mesmerising to watch his fingers dance over the strings. 

"Play me a song, Eddie." You say, before you realise you were saying it aloud. 

"Yeah?" He flashes a small smile and you encourage him by placing your hand on his knee. 

"OK, just for you then sweetheart." 

He breaks into a rendition of Should I Stay Or Should I Go, by the Clash. You're almost certain it's a jab at you because of last night and your failure to make your mind up. You don't mind; listening to the rest of the lyrics you realise you're hoping he means more than just a little in-joke. If you say that you are mine, I'll be here till the end of time.

When he finishes you all clap, Robin as quickly as a bird's wings flutters, and Steve just a little too loudly, probably due to too much alcohol. 

"Thank you Eddie, that was brilliant." You smile softly at him. 

"No problem sweets." He moves to put the guitar away but you wave your arm at him. 

"Can I play something?" 

A sharp intake of breath rings out from Steve and Robin but you pay it no mind. Eddie looks at you like he's sizing you up. Seems he comes to the conclusion that you aren't just going to pull some rockstar move and smash it on the ground, he passes it to you carefully. 

You take it reverently in your hands and get comfortable with it, tuning the G string slightly as it was a little off when you heard it. 

An idea springs to mind and you grin deviously to Robin over the fire, a grin which is reciprocated. She knows what you're about to do. The Band Camp thing.

You start to play the very beginning of a song extremely loudly, singly wildly off key.

"Kumbaya, my Lord-" 

"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Eddie shouts, lurching a hand toward you to clamp over the fret. 

"I'm kidding!" You giggle, prying his fingers away. Robin's laughing and Steve looks like he's about to burst, swaying in his seat. 

"OK, no funny business." 

"Not unless you ask for it." You wink, and start to play what you had intended all along. 

"One pill makes you larger

And one pill makes you small

And the ones that mother gives you

Don't do anything at all…"

You lose yourself in the song, the melody. When you were younger you had just assumed it was nothing but a song about Alice in Wonderland. You knew better now, but it was fun to play and it suited your voice. 

As you came to the conclusion your eyes fluttered shut and you sang out the last couple of lines like no one was even there. 

"Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head

Feed your head!"

Whooping and clapping finally reaches your ears as you open your eyes. Robin is going insane; Steve is shouting but it sounds slurred. Eddie just looks stunned as you pass his precious guitar back to him.

"You're incredible sweetheart." He looks genuinely impressed, staring at you with such intensity it makes you squirm. 

"It was OK, my strumming's a little sloppy." 

"But your voice! Jesus Christ, I've got goosebumps. You should sing, like, all the time." 

You laugh, swatting him with your hand. 

"I think that might get a little annoying." 

"I'd love to listen to it all the time." 

The sweet moment is broken by Robin gagging loudly. 

"Munson that was so cheesy I'm gonna hurl." 

He just shrugs, unbothered, and puts his guitar away. You didn't think it was too cheesy. In fact, you're breathless, thoughtless. The ache was settling back in, so deep in your bones there was no willing it away. It was clear; you needed him. Biblically. 

As that realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, a soft thud breaks through to you. Steve has fallen backwards, already snoring. 

"Well, looks like he needs to go to bed. Give me a hand guys." 

Eddie stands up and lifts Steve bodily round his waist. Robin and you hover nearby, but he doesn't need your help after all. 

Steve's giggling childishly, slurring words together. 

"Don' wanna go bed, wan' sing too!" 

"Sing in the morning, big guy." 

You help Robin tuck him into his sleeping bag, as Steve mumbles Kumbaya under his breath. 

Robin huffs. "I'll take it from here," and quieter, just to you, she whispers, "I'm putting earplugs in, go have fun." 

"Robin, I-" 

"Shhh you'll wake the baby. Just go, go!" 

You leave the tent and see Eddie sitting by the fire, rolling a joint. 

"Erm, Robin's going to bed too." 

"Oh?" He looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. "Are you?" 

"I'm not tired." 

That shit-eating grin of his is back, tugging at the corners of his mouth slowly. 

You sit down, right next to him, knees touching. He finishes rolling, licking it closed with a pointed tongue you can't help but stare at. 

As he starts smoking, you finally let loose what's been on your mind all day. 

"Why did you act funny with me? After I said you have a crush?" 

He huffs a little laugh, blowing smoke through his nose. 

"I thought that was obvious. I was embarrassed." 

"Really? I didn't know Eddie Munson could get embarrassed." 

He takes another drag and looks away. 

"Yeah, well it happens. I don't like people knowing too much about me. Rather come across as mean and scary and-" 

"-cocky?" 

"Ha, yeah." 

It's quiet again, but not a loaded quiet. You feel comfortable, almost enjoying the silence; just the slight rustle of pine needles in the breeze, and an owl hooting far away. 

"You want some of this?" 

Eddie's touch pulls you back to the moment, rough fingertips grazing you. The touch burns again, but differently this time. This time you melt under it. 

"Can you, do that thing?" You ask in a small voice. 

He smiles wickedly, straightening his legs out. 

"Come here" He says as he pats his lap. You straddle him awkwardly, not sure if this is what he meant, but a firm hand grabs you by the ass and shifts you closer to him so your chests are flush. 

"Like this?" You ask quietly, breathing the question. 

"Just like that baby." 

He takes a long toke and beckons you forward with one finger. When you're in range, nose lightly brushing his, he brings your chin toward him with one firm hand and presses his lips to your mouth. 

Stiffening with surprise, you quickly soften, disarmed by his lips. You part yours and he breathes the smoke into you, allowing you to inhale deeply. Breaking away, you exhale the smoke downwards and look into his deep eyes. 

"Do it again." 

He bites his lip and smiles, flashing his teeth. He repeats the gesture; taking a pull, smashing his lips to yours and breathing into you. He doesn't let you pull away to breathe out; instead he presses his tongue into your mouth. Smoke burns your nose as you submit to him, the kiss becoming filthy and desperate as he grips onto the flesh of your ass. 

Finally he lets up, if only to breathe. You're both panting, electricity in the air passing between and through you. 

"I like it like that." You smile, hand resting on his chest. 

"You keep surprising me sweetheart." He responds, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips. 

A fuzziness rushes through every nerve, all of your body crying out, singing for him. 

"You know, I don't mind cocky Eddie." 

"Yeah? I thought I annoyed you." 

"A little. But it kinda turns me on." You respond, rolling your hips into him.

"Oh fuck sweetheart," he roughly grips you, forcing you to do it again, "you drive me fuckin' crazy." 

He's on your neck, kissing and licking at you almost tenderly. 

"Eddie, please," you whisper, mind abandoning any clarity as he kisses you. 

"Please? What do you need, sweetheart?" 

How can you answer? What do you need?

"Eddie, I-I need you, please," you whisper into his ear, rocking against his hardening bulge. 

He bites down on your neck, eliciting a gasp to spill from your lips. 

"Tent." Is all he manages to say, and you stumble upwards on wobbly legs, to lead him to it. 

Fumbling for the zip, you just about get inside it when you feel his hands on you gently pushing you forward. A small touch is all it takes and you're falling onto the air bed, knees bending as you collapse face forward. 

He's on your back before you can think, firm arms caging you in from behind. 

"You need me? Really?" 

You nod, squirming underneath him, a small hand curling around his forearm. 

"Dreamed about you saying that, fuck." He whispers, lips pressing to your shoulder, "turn around." 

You can't find it in you to not comply. Wobbling the mattress, you twist to face him, engulfed in the intensity of his stare, illuminated by the fading light emanating from the fire. 

"Say it again." It's soft, but ironclad in the centre. 

"I need you Eddie." 

"Fuck" He huffs, moving down your torso, pulling your t-shirt up so it kisses the edge of your breasts. He looks up at you with pleading eyes; a look that turns your insides to mush. 

"Can you turn the light on? I need to see you." 

He sounds so desperate, so in need that you waste no time in grabbing your camp light and switching it on, bathing you both in cool white light. 

As he's pulling your top up, you assist and pull it over your head, flinging it to a corner. 

"You are really beautiful." He says, drinking you in with his eyes, as a calloused hand strokes between the valley of your breasts. You slide under his confident touches, getting more anxious by the minute. 

"Can I taste you?" 

You nod, and he unbuttons your skirt, pulling your panties down with a roughness that makes you flinch. You're entirely exposed. 

"I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time." 

You wriggle underneath him, and reply. "Didn't you get me like this last night?" 

"This," he says, gesturing to your revealed flesh, "this is different." 

You don't quite get it and want him to explain further, but his lips are on your nipples and all that comes out of you is a heady moan. A firm knee pushes your thighs apart and you bend to his will, allowing him to kiss down, and down, leaving hot pressured mouth trails to your stomach. 

When his lips meet the tops of your thighs you cry out his name. 

He understands, slipping his tongue between your folds and licking at your clit with pointed precision. 

"Oh fuck!" 

A chuckle emanates from his throat as he doubles his efforts, flicking and suckling at you in earnest. Thick fingers tease your entrance and one slides into your glistening opening, pumping slowly. 

It shocks through your body, setting loose tendrils of pleasure so profound it's almost a religious experience. He prods another finger at you, sliding it next to the first and it burns, making you hiss. 

Eddie mumbles platitudes into your pussy, telling you how good a job you're doing, how proud he is, how you're a good girl. His good girl. 

The tension is unbelievable, clenching every muscle as your breath comes in short pants.

"That's it sweetheart, sing for me." 

The fingers curl, stroking something incessantly inside you that rips a sultry groan from deep within your chest cavity, and without further warning your orgasm washes through. It collects and expands, a force of nature that flies out and collides like stars in the universe.

Your back falls to the air mattress, and that's the only signal you have that it ever left. You feel soaked in your own juices, thighs uncomfortably wet. 

Eddie hovers over your face. You're not quite sure when he got there. 

"That OK sweetheart?" 

You don't reply, you can't. Your response can only be carnal, feeding into the biting, gnawing need that still refuses to lessen its grip on your core. Bringing shaking hands upward, you wind them into his hair and pull his face forcefully towards yours, tongue slipping in to taste your slick in his mouth, groaning at the tangy sweet flavour. 

He collapses against you, full weight of his lithe body pressed into yours, but it's not enough. Pulling away and leaving less than an inch of space you voice your frustration. 

"Eddie, please, I- I want you. I want you inside me, please." 

Eddie shakes his head for a second, then deep brown eyes seek yours for any doubt, and come up empty. 

"Are you sure sweetheart?" 

The nod you reciprocate with is painfully fast, hurting the muscles of your neck. He looks uncertain, but discards his clothes, kneeling in front of you in his boxer shorts. 

"I need you to be sure. I can't give it back." 

You let your legs fall further apart, giving him the view of you open and ready for him. 

"Please." 

Underwear has never been discarded quicker. He has his cock in his hand, sliding on a condom from his crumpled jeans at record speed. A second later and he's towering over you, nose brushing yours and dick lined up to your sopping entrance. 

His tip breaches you, so much thicker than his fingers, and you wince. You can tell he's trying to be careful, pushing into you slowly, watching for any signs you want to stop. 

You're so full, and he just keeps going. A moment later and you let out a little startled cry as a sharp pain shoots from deep inside. 

"You OK sweetheart?" He stops his movements, staring at your face with a worried expression. 

"I'm fine, just, go all the way" you manage through gritted teeth. 

He slips the last of it deep, deep inside as you yelp at the suddenness. Then, he's still, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers with his over your head, his other arm holding him perfectly motionless above you. 

"That's it, you're OK, so fuckin' tight, fuck," he says to you, kissing your cheek. It burns, the feel of him, but a fullness is beginning to overtake that ache. 

"You know, I thought you were afraid of me in high school." He half laughs, kissing the tip of your nose. It's such a sweet gesture from the so-called frightening man that you giggle a little too. 

"I was," you admit, staring into his deep eyes.

"Then, we come here and you look like you're gonna eat me alive. Then, you're all innocent, and now… fuck, I can't keep up." 

You appreciate what he's doing, talking to you, distracting you from the pain. It helps; it's settled into a dull throb and your need from him is outranking it. 

"Eddie, you can move." 

With a peck to your lips he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, setting a slow and steady pace. 

This is so much better than his hands, or his tongue. On every thrust he's massaging at something that makes you moan, again and again. 

"You're doing real good sweetheart, my good fuckin' girl." 

All of a sudden you feel it, all of it. His lean weight comforting over you, the squeeze of his fingers in yours, the throb of his member inside you, his words. It's all too much. Your eyes gloss over and a tear works its way down your temple. 

"Oh shit, you want me to-" He starts as he slows down a little. 

"Don't you fucking dare, please, please, I-I need-" 

He grins at you; that self satisfied look that turns your legs to jelly. 

"What do you need, sweetheart? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you." 

"Harder Eddie, oh God!" 

He snaps his hips into you with much more force; once, twice, three times and you scream his name, pussy clenching him hard, every muscle tense. As everything unravels you go limp, whimpering at the pulse that you can feel pounding in your core. 

When your eyes finally decide to open, he's leaving kisses as light as a butterfly's wings on your cheek. 

"Woah," is all you can say, between breathless giggles. Tears are falling but you don't care enough to wipe them away. 

Eddie unlatches his hand from yours and does it himself. 

"That was so hot. You need to do that again," he whispers, beginning to grind into you slowly.

"I nearly died Eddie, it might finish me off!" 

He laughs back, but doesn't quit; hips still driving into you leisurely. 

"What's life without a little risk?" 

You stare up at him, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue that you're too nervous to ask. 

"What is it?" He asks, brow furrowed, as if you were about to ask him to stop. 

"Can I… wait, don't worry." 

He does stop then, to put his hand to your face and stroke you with his thumb.

"Hey hey hey, come on, what baby?" 

You whisper it quietly, voice small and second guessing. 

"Can I try, erm, being on top?" 

You're surprised that Eddie's face didn't split in half from the sheer wideness of his grin. 

"Holy shit, yes, please." 

He winds his arms underneath your frame and flips you so fast your vision blurs, until he's underneath you. You sit up, his cock still buried within, and you gasp at the new angle. 

"Eddie, Jesus Christ!" 

Palms splayed on his chest, you control your breathing a little. This angle is devastating, pressing harshly against that place inside that has you throbbing around him. 

Eddie chuckles darkly as his hands slide over the flesh of your thighs, rubbing back and forth, until they work their way to your hips and pull you up ever so slightly, only to drop you back down again. 

"Just like that sweetheart, 'Kay?" 

He tilts his head to one side, that mocking tone fuelling the embers of your desire. Rising up on shaky knees you pull off him and slide back down, trying to find some semblance of rhythm. Your clit grazes his pubic hair on one pass and you nearly lose it completely, the feeling sending a bolt of pure pleasure up your spine. 

"Oh my God!" 

"Yeah? That good?" 

You hum and nod, words escaping you, now rolling your hips on each bounce to get that sensation over and over. 

Eddie's talking now, watching how much you writhe and whine at his words. 

"That's it sweetheart. Wanting to- oh fuck- ride me, on your first time. Oh yes, fuck, just like that- dirty, my dirty fuckin' girl." 

"Eddie, oh God, can you, fuck, please-" 

"What is it sweetheart? Anything, you can have anything." 

His words embolden you, and before you can hesitate your hands are gripping one of his and leading it to your throat. You're not sure why, but you know deep in your core that you need it. 

Eddie looks shocked by your moments but quickly recovers, fingers slotting around your throat, squeezing lightly at the sides. 

Speeding up, feeling the pressure of his hand on your windpipe, you throw your body into each movement. 

"Fuck Eddie, harder!" 

He squeezes and you let go of everything, breath leaving you. All composure, all thought. It's just you and Eddie, and his hand, and his cock. Screaming aloud, you fold almost double, collapsing into him with a shocked, delicate whimper. 

His fingers relinquish their firm grip, coming to rest on the back of your head in a comforting, tender hold. 

"I was right, you are a freak." 

Laughing aloud, you have just enough bones left in your neck to lift it ever so slightly. He looks surprised, sure, and really aroused, judging by his hooded gaze. 

"Are you not… done?" You ask, as you feel his impossibly hard length still throbbing inside you. 

"What can I say, I've got stamina." 

That smug face is back, a flash of canines and confidence. You'd roll your eyes if it wasn't so sexy. 

No time for a witty comeback though, as he holds you close to him and thrusts upwards with abandon. Colours swirl in your vision as you try to stay attached to reality, focusing on the feel of his skin, the pounding of his rhythm, and the light in his eyes. 

"Fuck I'm close, I'm so fuckin' close. You're, oh shit, so- oh God, can't believe you're letting me do this." 

Slack jawed and practically dribbling, you let him use you to chase his own release, trying to weakly meet his thrusts. A pulse deep inside is brought to your attention, and it's not yours. Looking at his face, you watch it awash with ecstasy as he holds you tightly and throbs his climax out. 

His muscles melt, holding you still but so loosely that the lack of pressure surprises you, as if you were only aware of how tight his grip had been at this very moment. 

The only sounds are the nightlife of insects around the tent, and panting, heaving breaths. Sliding off of him in an organic gesture, you curl up into his arms, finally feeling sated and at ease. 

Lips are pressed into the top of your head, kissing you over your hair. No words are spoken; none need to be. For a shining moment, this is all you need. To be held, and cared for. 

Minutes go by, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. Before you drift off, Eddie breaks the spell cast over both of you. 

"Was that OK princess?" 

"That was incredible Eddie." 

He kisses the top of your head again, then seems to remember himself. 

"Fuck sweetheart, just, stay right there." 

Clambering to his feet he pulls the condom off, tying it in a knot and discarding it into a corner to be thought of later. He's back then, spreading your legs. 

'Eddie, you can't just-" 

"I'm just looking after you sweetheart. You got some tissues or something?"

Furrowing your brows, you point to your wash bag near the foot of the sleeping bag. He paws through it wordlessly, and brings out some tissues and wet wipes. 

"Sweetheart I'm so sorry." 

"What's wrong?" You ask, panic riding your words. 

"I've made you bleed." Eddie looks crushed, so upset at your prior pain, anguish etched into his face. 

"It's OK Eddie, it's normal." 

"You should have said. I'm so sorry." 

You laugh a little, touched by his concern. 

"I didn't know! It's alright, it doesn't hurt now." 

Placated slightly by your answer, he cleans you both up as well as he can, before slipping into the sleeping bag with you. 

A thousand questions perch on the edge of your tongue, but it's so warm, so cosy and right, that your body denies all words for a moment. 

When you feel capable of speech you look up at him. 

"Stamina, huh?" 

He flushes, looking down at your smiling face. 

"I may have tactically jerked off beforehand."

"When??" You giggle, fingers flirting over his exposed chest. 

"When I went to get my guitar." 

"Eddie, how did you know that-" 

"OK, OK!" He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles before hiding behind it, "I didn't know, not for sure. You just looked so good in that little two piece, I couldn't hold it in." 

"Perv," you respond, but your eyes are soft. 

"Yep." 

Giggling, you slip into a calm, contented sleep in his arms.

********************

You wake up a little later than intended, no doubt exhausted from last night. The tent feels empty. Upon realising that Eddie's missing a dread settles in your stomach. Bile rises as you sling some clothes on. Maybe he's had his way with you and that's it.

Exiting the tent, you see he's just by the fire, trying to get it going again, a cigarette dangling from his pouting lips. 

"Oh would you just- come on!" He says as he angrily flicks his lighter, trying to get the wood to catch. 

You smile, relief washing over you, and walk over to help. 

"I'm begging, come on- oh, sweetheart," he looks a little sheepish as he speaks to you, mumbling around his cigarette. "I was gonna make you coffee and bring it to you but the damn fire won't start." 

You giggle, and rearrange the little pile, adding a few twists of paper to the base, and hold your hand out to him. He looks at you blankly for a second, then comes to his senses, placing the lighter in your palm. 

With one stroke the papers alight, and starting to catch the rest of the twigs. The couple of logs won't take long to catch. 

"Witchcraft." 

"Nope, just girl scouts." 

"You can go back in the tent if you want, I'll make you a drink." 

"Eddie?" 

"Huh?" He turns to you, pot of water in his hand. 

"Good morning." You smile shyly at him. He grins, placing the pot on the ground and stubbing out his cigarette. Strong arms slot their way around your waist and you fling your arms around his neck, grinning stupidly at each other. 

"Good morning. Good night?" It's framed as a question, and you know what he's getting at. 

"Great night." 

Smiling wider, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Puckering your lips to ask for a proper kiss, you hear a very loud cough. 

"Good morning love birds." Robin wiggles her eyebrows at you both. You move to break away from Eddie, but he steals a kiss anyway, and pulls you close to his side, arm firmly around you. 

"Is Steve alive?" He asks, looking at Robin. 

"Well, he got up in the night to throw up, just glad he didn't do it in the tent. He's dead to the world right now. He's been singing in his sleep you know. Nearly suffocated him with a pillow." 

You both laugh at that, and then hear a loud groan from the tent. 

Eddie glances at you with mischief and shouts out towards Steve's tent.

"Harrington! Wanna sing for us, big guy?" 

"Urgh." Is the only reply. Robin rolls her eyes and busies herself with the fire. 

After a while, the coffees are ready; you all attempt to rouse Steve but he's gone back to sleep, groaning whenever you call out to him. 

Then, it's just the sad business of taking down your tent. There's a special kind of melancholy reserved for such an occasion; pretty soon there's no sign at all that it was ever there. Afraid that your memories, your feelings, about last night would fade too, you walk over to Eddie who is perched on a stump fitting the last of his things in a bag. 

"Eddie?" 

"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, still fumbling with his bag. 

Do you still like me? Do you want to see me after this? Was this all a dream?

"Can I get a ride back with you? Steve and Robin are gonna be a while." 

You gesture over to where Steve had finally emerged, whining and packing his stuff, tent still upright. 

"Sure, anything you need." He flashes a tight lipped smile and reaches to grasp your hand briefly. 

The ride back to town with him is chatty, even if it's only surface level stuff. Your rendition of White Rabbit had him fumbling around the glove compartment and pulling out a few older classic rock tapes that you happily listened to; music was a big part of your life, at least you both had that in common. His eyes light up whenever you talk about a band or song that he likes too, gesturing so emphatically with his hand you have to remind him to look at the road. 

Pretty soon you're pulling up to a crossroads, except Eddie pulls over instead. 

"What's wrong?" 

He huffs, smiling at you sadly. 

"If I keep driving forward I've got to say goodbye to you, take you home," he admits. Your heart flutters at the admission. 

"Where do you live, Eddie?" He looks confused, but points to the left turning. 

"Eddie, turn left." 

"Really?" 

"Really. I was supposed to stay at Robin's tonight anyway." 

His grin is downright manic as he pulls back on the road, making short work of the drive to his trailer. 

He bundles you out of the van and opens the trailer door, both of your bags heaved over one of his shoulders. 

The sight of an older gentleman startles you as he potters around the kitchen area. 

"Hey! This is Wayne, my Uncle. Wayne, this is my girlfriend." 

Your eyes widen as he gives your name to his uncle and you shake hands with him, the roughest hand you think you've ever touched, but the softest grip. 

"Pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm heading out today, so I'll see you two later I'm guessing." 

He waves and smiles fondly at the pair of you, and leaves. 

"Sorry, thought he would've left already." He explains, pulling you both to the back of the trailer and into what you assume is his room. 

Allowing yourself to be led, still feeling shell shocked, you perch on the edge of his bed as he dumps the bags on the floor. 

Eddie's talking, saying how he wishes he tidied before he left, how the trailer's not much but it's home, and his uncle…

"Eddie, wait." 

He stops mid flow to look at you. 

"Girlfriend?" 

"Well yeah? I mean, if you want to. I didn't ask, did I?" He flushes pink, hand reaching up to nibble at his thumb. 

"I mean, you don't know me, really." You shrink, almost folding in on yourself. 

"Hey," he sits down next to you, stroking your jaw with his finger, "I know enough. And I let you touch my guitar. We're practically married now." 

Lips press softly to yours, a delicate touch that has all tension flying from your body in a rush. 

"Eddie…" You whisper, giving him a butterfly kiss with the tip of your nose. 

"Hmm?" 

"You smell really bad." 

He laughs and grabs you around the waist, pulling you down sharply to lay on the bed. 

"So do you." 

"A point well made." A response, but you don't move, snuggling deeper into his neck. 

"So, I've got an idea. Let's have showers, get into some comfy stuff, and cuddle. Probably got a movie or two we can watch?" 

The normalcy of the situation is surprising, but most welcome. 

Smiling wickedly, you nip at his neck and whisper in his ear. 

"One condition: we shower together." 

He groans loudly, hands stroking at any skin he can reach. 

"Fuuuck, sweetheart, I've created a monster." 

You laugh, and hold him tightly. Eddie Munson isn't so scary, after all.

Taglist (just some people I thought might like this, hope you don't mind!)

@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonfuxks

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[seresinhangmanjake]

Do You Love?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.

When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder. 

It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes. 

From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.

—

Reader POV

He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.

Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?

But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it. 

But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?

Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.

--

Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest. 

Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.

“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”

His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.

Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”

Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open. 

“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. 

You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real. 

Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier. 

Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you. 

Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.

“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes. 

“In my nightmares.”

His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?” 

You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”

Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”

Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat. 

“I love you,” he tells you.

Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”

---

tag: @avidreader73

[pathologicalreid]

𖤓 margotober masterlist 𖤓

in an act of insurmountable indecisiveness, i couldn't choose between flufftober, angstober, and kinktober. naturally, the only solution was to find a way to participate in all three. previews will be posted a week at a time because my indecisiveness extends to my inability to choose what fics to post.

fluff 𖤓 angst 𖤓 smut

october 1st - caretaker

↳ in which you take care of your fiercely independent boyfriend after he gets shot in the knee

october 2nd - always, i'll wait

↳ in which Spencer dedicates himself to pulling you out of your depressive state

october 3rd - wake me from this dream

↳ in which you've been struggling to come to terms with the kiss between Spencer and Cat, and you've finally reached your breaking point

october 4th - with your hands tied

↳ in which you and Spencer continue your kink education, with a hands off approach

october 6th - the build up

↳ in which you and Spencer spend an entire day just waiting to make it to the hotel room

october 7th - what to expect

↳ in which you find yourself frustrated at the end of your pregnancy, and Spencer talks you off a ledge

october 8th - kryptonite

↳ in which all roads lead to Spencer's apartment, at least they do for jareau!reader

october 9th - don't get dark

↳ in which you disclose an attack to Spencer, and he assures you he's not going anywhere

october 10th - cocoon

↳ in which your life is put in danger during an otherwise routine case, and you haven't even told Spencer about the baby

october 11th - diphenhydramine

↳ in which reader has a hard time getting to sleep at night, leading to Spencer's step by step instruction of which hormones help you fall asleep

october 12th - all we ever do is talk

↳ in which Spencer and wife!reader fear they're getting boring, so the BAU sets them up with a hotel suite for Spencer's birthday

october 14th - sanctuary

↳ in which hotchner!reader reunites with the BAU after her time in WITSEC

october 15th - pyrophoric

↳ in which Spencer seeks the help of a chemist to help with his research into white phosphorous

october 16th - wavelength

↳ in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year

october 17th - heart to heart

↳ in which hotchner!reader is set to have heart surgery, and Spencer can't help but be concerned for her

october 18th - love song for lady earth

↳ in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer

october 19th - home run

↳ in which Spencer and jareau!reader finally get the opportunity to take the next step in their relationship

october 21st - ode to a conversation stuck in your throat

↳ in which Spencer tries to talk you out of taking a job across the country

october 22nd - here with me

↳ four times Spencer feels out of place in your house after being released from prison, and one time it's like he never left

october 23rd - burn notice

↳ in which your workplace is targeted by a group of extremists, and Spencer tries everything to keep you safe

october 24th - lock and key

↳ in which an act of violence - and subsequent serious injury - brings the truth to the surface and initiates a change

october 25th - in an arrow heart

↳ in which Spencer finds himself distracted by you during an otherwise routine outing to O'Keefe's

october 26th - come a little closer

↳ in which you and Spencer have sex for the first time since his release from prison, and more importantly, since Cat told him what happened in Mexico

october 28th - little duck

↳ in which Spencer is too excited about his first Halloween as a dad to remember he's supposed to be celebrating his birthday

october 29th - missed calls

↳ in which Spencer answers Hotch's daughter's phone when he calls to check in after a case

october 30th - prisoner

↳ in which you and Spencer conduct a custodial interview with a death row inmate - Spencer's first since he was released

october 31st - hysteria

↳ in which the BAU is called into a case in rural Appalachia when bodies start showing up in an abandoned insane asylum

[bunnys-kisses]

bark, bark, bark

hybrid!john "soap" mactavish

cw: hybrid!au, smut/pwp, heat/rut, breeding, pregnancy, enemies-to-lovers, dog!reader, dog!john, owner!simon, doggy style filth

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? request your own!

"well, aren't ya just a dream." john said as he sat at the kitchen table. his tail swayed from side to side as he looked at you.

you were standing close to your new owner, simon riley. you had a pretty pink collar on and your ears were flat against your head. your arms were crossed and you looked annoyed.

john or 'soap' as simon called him, was a dog. as were you. while your breed was defined and regal. you were certain that simon found john behind a dumpster of a fish n' chips place. but you'd have to get along with your fellow hybrid if you didn't want to end up being re-homed.

john just thought you were perfect, but in as sneering kind of way. almost mocking as he pulled at your floppy ears and your hair. he even got you by the collar once and brought you to the tiled floor of the farmhouse the three of you lived in.

you'd often yip and growl at one another in the living room as you fought over the remote. which often left you both scolded by your owner. if you were on your knees one last time in front of simon while the larger man wagged a finger at you, you were going to put the mutt's throat between your teeth and clamp down.

but then it happened. something you had dreaded, you thought at least simon would've gotten you some birth control shots before you heat took over. you felt some embarrassed, like a fucking idiot because you were leaking all over the bed you slept in.

hybrids slept in beds like any other human, but while simon kept his minimal. yours was covered in all manners of pillows and stuffed animals. which gave you ample room to find something to put between your legs. you covered your mouth with your head as you got on your knees with the pillow between your legs.

you rutted against it, hoping that the fabric would catch your clit through your shorts. you whimpered a little but tightened your hand across your mouth. you hoped that john didn't catch the smell of your heat. the last thing you wanted was for that stupid dog to be smelling your pussy like the animal he was.

"fuck." you muttered to yourself as you found you couldn't get enough friction from the pillow. you peeled of your shorts with the crotch of your panties soaked, and put your legs on either side of the pillow once more and rutted against the edge.

you squeaked a little and panted around your hand as you rolled your hips. heat raced through your body and electricity was shot through your clit from the sensation of the pillow against it. you could only imagine the stain that would be left on the pillow by the time you were done.

your toes curled as you continued to move, you were getting lost in your head as you moved across the fabric. you let out the smalles tnoises and couldn't even stop to hear if you could hear anyone outside your door.

it was why you didn't hear the stealthy john come into your room, or creep towards you in the dark. his nose was in the air as the alluring scent of fertile hybrid filled his brain. you didn't even know he was so close until he pounced onto the bed and shoved you into the mountain of soft objects.

you yelped and tried to kick your legs out in defense, but he kept you pinned rather tightly to the bed. his nose was in your neck as he took a healthy inhale. he groaned and you felt his cock twitch against your bare ass.

you knew your pussy was getting the front of his shorts soaked.

"what do we have here?" he asked, already a little drunk from the scent, "is my girl fuckin' her pillows? bein' bad." he growled against your neck as he pushed you further into the bed, causing your hips to raise higher.

"john!" you yelped.

"that's it, doll. my precious girl. i know i tease ya, but this is worse than anything i've ever done." he said with a dark edge to his tone, "ruttin' in your bed all alone. with your mate."

you melted at the word, you hated him but the lust was clotting your brain from coherent thought. all you could feel about was the heat against you. the larger hybrid up against you.

"please, john." you whimpered, "you can't breed me. get simon."

he kissed at your neck, his fangs nipped against the back of it, he continued to rub up against you, "i don't think so, doll. i think you need me more than you need simon." his voice was low, "you need some cock." he chuckled, "my cock."

you whimpered, "please."

"don't worry, i promise i was a easy pup to rear." he chuckled lowly, "you, me and baby, quite the trio. maybe if we're lucky, we'll have two boys."

you whimpered, in your state the thought sounded alluring. you couldn't imagine alife without john in that moment. even though he bullied you, you couldn't imagine him NOT fucking you in that moment.

"ya like that don't ya, girlie. you like the idea of you being all pregnant with my pups. you'd be a lovely girl like that." he chuckled as he pulled down his shorts under his cock, freeing it.

his cock was impressive, it was large with heavy balls that showed that he'd be a good breeder. he was impressed with it and hoped it would fit in your tight virgin hole.

"here it comes, love." he said, "now be good for me, i want to feel every inch in ya." he chuckled as he guided his cock into your sweet hole, effectively ruining your virginity. he sank into it slowly and felt the air leave his chest.

"ah!" you whimpered as you buried your head further into the stuffed animals on your bed. you exhaled deeply to keep yourself relaxed so you didn't hurt yourself. but his cock was already deep in you.

"holy shit. i wished you went into heat sooner." he growled, "you feel amazin', doll. i could fuck ya forever, give ya a whole bunch of litters to take care of." he chuckled as he puffed his chest out with pride. his cock was a tight fit in you, but it felt so good. you were so wet that he slid in easily, there was no struggle to fuck his little wife.

wife, that was a term he would ever think that he'd call you. but what else would you be? a slut? his fuck hole?" the thought made him chuckle as he started to thrust in and out of you.

your eyes rolled back, his cock soothed the fire in your belly. it was what the primal part of your brain needed. you needed cock, specically HIS cock. it was the only thing that you'd allow in you. you didn't NEED simon, you just needed john to fuck the discomfort away!

easy as that, and john was happily able to do that for you. he would make you feel nice and good. he held you down by your head and you felt hot all over as he thrusted up into you. he growled and tried not to make too much noise to alert his owned.

your breathing was shaky as you clutched onto a pillow under your head. you panted heavily as you felt hot all over. this heat was almost painful and it ran like a current in your body. you felt skittish but drowning in the depths of pleasure.

"ah! please! ah!" you panted, "john, please."

"i got ya, lass." he chuckled, "don't worry. i'll make it all better. don't worry about anything." he continued to thrust in and out of you. he felt hot all over too. his head was clouded with the scent of your want for him.

his heart raced as he felt his t-shirt cling to his chest as he continued to move. you tried to meet his pace but your brain was so empty that you could barely keep up. you had never felt this full before. you whimpered so pathetically, john just knew that he would have to take care of you. after all that was what a husband did.

your lover, your husband, the father to your many, many pups. that was a title he could be proud of. it only fueled him to bury his cock deeper inside of you. the bed squeaked and john breathed heavily through his nose as his hips slapped against your ass.

"pretty thing." he purred, "bein' such a bitch all this time. but i knew better, i knew you wanted me." he chuckled a little, proud of himself that he got to bed the little birdie that has been in his home the past couple of months.

"john." you said lazily, "it feels so good." you panted wildly. you felt like there was a flat line in your head, everything kind of rolled off your tongue without thinking much of it. ypur cutn was soaked, you could feel the wetness all the way down to the back fo your thighs.

"so good." he said, "simon is gonna know how good you were for me. once you're all swollen with my puppies. keep ya nice and fat with litter after litter. i'll make sure nothin' happens to them, our little family." he panted wildly like the dog he was. he threw his head back as his hips bounced against you. his cock pushed in and out of your aching hole.

he would douse the fire in your soul, he'll simmer you down. but in exchange you'll get morning sickness and in nine months squirming hybrids in your arms. you moaned at the thought, you knew you were close to your climax.

"mine. got it?" he said, less like a question and more like a statement as he pulled your head away from the pillows. you gasped for air after being in the heat of the pillows.

you moaned loudly as you felt yourself climax around his cock. further making a mess. he growled in happiness as he gave one last thrust of his hips and he finished inside of you.

the noise must've woken up simon. because when he went into your room, he found you going at it once more. he sighed and made a note to get you some plan b in the morning. he didn't need more puppies roaming the halls of the farmhouse.

he also reminded himself to get you some birth control shots to make sure this didn't happen again.

-

simon's plan failed. it failed pretty badly. because by the time he got the birth control. it was too late, you were pregnant with john's baby. simon was thankful that it was just ONE.

at least you two got along...

"goodamnit, soap!" you shrieked.

there was a commotion in the kitchen. simon sighed and got up from his seat. he saw one very pregnant hybrid and the one who got her pregnant in the kitchen. you two were snapping jaws at one another.

"i wish you'd go back to fuckin'." he grumbled.

[beiibeiii]

under your spell

vampire!arlecchino x f!reader wlw smut

cw : smut, reader gets drunk and passes out lol, dream manipulation, arlecchino eats you out like theres no tomorrow, reader gets dizzy from lack of blood, arle is a little possessive, kinda non-consensual..

halloween special, apart of @edgeray halloween event :)

guess whos back lol, sorry if my quality of writing has gone down a bit, i haven't written properly in a while, not really proofread

art creds: vyphorium on X

it was finally the night of halloween. students from all over the campus had been invited to this halloween party. you knew arlecchino was never fond of parties, and was usually busy anyways, but when you said you were going, suddenly her scehdule cleared and she was interested in going.

arlecchino and you both shared a dorm so you met up in front of the front door. arlecchino stands around a head taller than you, making you raise your head to look up at her, making eye contact. god, she looked so dangerous yet so, so enticing. she was 'dressed' as a vampire. wearing a beautiful white ruffle blouse with ruffled sleeves, a elegant black, patterned waistcoat, along with black slacks and leather boots. she wore a long, silver cross necklace, a pretty dark red rose on her chest with blood stained down her shirt.

"beautiful, as always." she mutters under her breath. you catch a glimpse of her sharp fangs, glimmering under the dim light. you feel her red, crossed pupils glow in the light as her eyes peer all over, up and down, your body. your dressed in a beautiful, backless, black lacey dress, ending halfway down your thighs. the black lace makes your skin slightly visible. god, the way your dress clung onto your body outlined your beautiful waist so perfectly. your wearing cute, fluffy black cat ears that sit on the top of your head along with ankle high boots and a black collar to complete the outfit.

you smile sweetly at her, feeling heat run up your cheeks.. you feel all shy and nervous at her remark. were you always so nervous around your own roommate? "you look so handsome." you compliment her sweetly. your mouth curls up into a cute smile. arlecchino returns the favour, smiling back at you, her fangs fully visible now. they looked so real, but you knew they were fake fangs though, right?

"lets get going then." she muses lowly. arlecchino walks you with a hand around your waist, protectively, to the dorm where the party had been set. she knocks on the door firmly. it isn't long before the door is opened up quickly. there were crowds of people, dressed up, everywhere. arlecchino's eyes scan over the surroundings, taking in the sight of the chaotic looking party. she doesnt seem enthusiastic about being here, at all. she would never admit it, but she just wanted to come to keep you close.

before you knew it, tartaglia spotted you two in the doorway, hauling you and arlecchino into the crowd of people immediately. the three of you meet up with signora and scaramouche. you are all around a small table, drinking and taking shots, having conversations and laughing together.

there were lots of eyes on you and arlecchino knew it. she could see how they'd look at your lips and your body. the way your dress looked on you wasn't helping too. fuck, arlecchino would rip their necks off right now if she could. you were just so, so oblivious to even notice them eye fucking you. occasionally arlecchino would glance at you in the corner of her eyes, keeping a close eye on you if you strayed too far.

you'd watch arlecchino skip out on vodka and beer, deciding to go for.. a dark red wine? almost like blood. it looked quite thick, it's lightly stain the glass and her lips too. a contrast to her pale skin, making her look more like an vampire. arlecchino didn't seem to be getting drunk at all, she did have high alcohol tolerance after all. ah.. your thinking too much about it, maybe it was the alcohol getting to your head.

tartaglia starts slurring out recent gossip on campus. how, for the past 2 weeks, it was rumoured that vampires going around, sucking students blood at night and leaving marks as evidence. signora scoffs, rolling her eyes, stating how it was probably their classmates pranking each other. arlecchino grimaces slightly at his words, her 'faux' fangs showing again. they looked so real.. but there was no way arlecchino was a vampire.. right?

it wasn't long before you started getting drunk, your mind started spinning and all sounds started getting distorted. your words would slur and you'd sway to the left and right in your seat. getting all mumbly and sloppy with your movements. arlecchino lets out a light, breathy sigh at your state, wrapping her arm around your hip, once more, firmly.

"do you think vampires are real too, arle..?" you lazily slur, your half lidded eyes gazing up into her piercing ones.

god, you were just adorable. the way blood rushed to your cheeks made arlecchino go absolutely crazy. she couldn't hold her temptations back and longer. the only thing running through her mind was imagining how your blood would taste, how it'd run down her lips and drip onto her tongue..

a eyebrow cocks up at your question. her eyes narrow lightly as she leans in closer to you. mumbling into your ear, so your intoxicated self could hear her over the music. "what makes you think vampires aren't real, my dear?" arlecchino's tone is dangerous, almost inviting. her fangs graze over your ear lightly. the faint sharpness makes flinch slightly, pulling away a little as you push her face away from you.

"stop trying to tease me.." you whine, your words slurring. arlecchino sits up properly, chuckling lowly to herself.

"i think you've had enough to drink for tonight, it's getting late. we should head back." arlecchino states, her sharp gaze on you. her words dripping with caution. she needed you, now. you sloppily nod at her words, saying goodbye to everyone as she hauls you out the crowded party, keeping you close to her, with a hint possessiveness.

the door to your dorms was opened, arlecchino helps you in, taking you into your room and setting you down on the bed. you'd already passed on the short walk down the hallway to your dorms. your hair was fanned out across the bed. your cheeks were lightly dusted red from the alcohol consumed. your eyelids were shut with your soft, plump lips slightly parted. you looked so peaceful. so.. so fucking vulnerable.

she couldn't hold back her desires any longer. arlecchino shuts the door, the room being thrown into darkness. She walks over to the bed, looking down at your limp body. her eyes fixated on your neck, her fangs aching and her mouth watering at the sight. itching to get a taste of your sweet, delicate blood.

her fangs sink into your skin, draining your blood. she savours the first few drops of blood that she's able to pull from you. her eyes flutter closed as she hums against your neck. god you tasted so good, never had she had such.. divine blood like this on her tongue. she feels your head turn to the side, letting out a small whimper in your sleep. you must be having a good dream, right? she pulls away momentarily, admiring her work.

her eyes stay fixed on your neck now as the blood slowly trickles from the wound. the wound allures her, as if its asking for more. she leans in for more, making sure she doesn't wake you up. her tongue laps up at the wound on the side of your neck. the feeling of being able to taste you again made her feel dizzy with ecstasy. you were just so blissfully unaware, it turned her on so much more. her tongue brushes against the wound to stop any of it from spilling out. giving it one last long lick as blood stains her lips. she lifts her head to kiss you on the lips passionately.

your soft lips meet her blood-stained ones. arlecchino could hear your little sleepy hums against her lips. at the same time, arlecchino enters your dreams, manipulating it like vampires do.

your eyes fluttered open.. you felt so dazed. was this a dream? was arlecchino kissing you..? your neck aches though, you feel warm liquid drip down to your collarbone. you felt so dizzy from the alcohol in your system and from blood being drained from your neck. you didn't have the energy to move, what was happening?

you feel as she pulls away from the kiss. tasting your bitter, metallic blood. she sees how dazed and dazed you looked, it drives her crazy. her eyebrows pinched together as she starts to take your dress off. her movements firm, but not rough. her gaze was sharp and alluring.

"stay still for me. let me take care of everything." arlecchino mutters lowly, sliding your dress over your head.

you feel as if something controlled your mind. you stay still as she asked, you didn't resist her at all. she unclasps your bra, sliding it off to the side, your beautiful tits on for show, just for her. she sucks in a breath, her blood stained fangs visible between her lips. arlecchino leaves your cat ears on, thinking you look more adorable and vulnerable all for her.

she grabs a handful of your tits, squeezing them lightly. she wondered how your tits would taste too. you let out a soft moan. your head whips to the side. god you were so overwhelmed, all your senses heightened right now. she continues to fondle with your tits as she mutters under her breath.

"fuck.. so pretty for me."

her other hand dips down into your underwear, feeling your slick pool up underneath. you were so wet already. arlecchino lightly rubs on your clit, testing your sensitivity. you let out a whimper at her actions, your eyes fluttering closed. she rubs more firmly as her other hand leaves your tit and pulls your panties down. they're thrown off somewhere on the floor as she lowers herself. you cunt slicked up all for her. she couldn't wait to just eat you up.

you feel so desperate, so dizzy with pleasure. your hands find her way to her head, burying your fingers in her soft hair.

"hurry.." you whisper out softly, peering down at her with your voice hoarse. arlecchino knows better than to keep you waiting. she spits on your cut, making your breath hitch, before diving in immediately. allowing you to tug on her hair.

her tongue fucks your dripping cunt, savouring your delicious slick. god your warm walls felt so good against her tongue. your eyes roll back in pleasure, fuck she was so good. you moan loudly, your vision blurring, out of overstimulation.

arlecchino's hands keep your thighs open. she laps at your cunt like its the last thing she'd eat. absolutely devouring you. you nudge her deeper into your pussy, her nose bumps at your clit every so often. she was so messy. arlecchino would suck and slurp loudly, the filthy noises filing the room up. she keeps eye contact with you throughout the whole way. she mumbles against your wet cunt, made vibrations, making your thighs close around her head.

arlecchino eats you out with more fervour, absolutely devouring you. you feel that coil in your stomach start to form. your tugs on her hair and your moans drive her on more than anything. you were just so sensitive. you could barely get your words out.

"c-close..! mm..mpff..!" you moan out loudly.

your orgasmed hard all over her face, squirted your cum on her face. your thighs wrapped around her face. she laps your essence up like a dog, before pulling away with a smirk, her chin dripping with your cum. you go limp, trying to catch your breath. your eyebrows are furrowed and your eyes are squeezed shut. you feel so dizzy, so fucking high. she leans into your neck. licking the blood that had run down from your wound. humming lowly in satisfaction. her hardness poking into your thigh.

"brace yourself.. i still need to savour your taste.."

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Talk dirty to me

PAIRING | Iron Man!Tony Stark x Journalist!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 5K

SUMMARY | You have been asked to interview and shadow Tony for a few months regarding his research in nanotechnology and his life as Iron Man. During this time, the sexual tension builds quickly between you two, and when you can't stop staring at him while he's working, the tension snaps, and you learn about a new kink you never knew you had.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Age gap, mutual pining, slight insecurities.

SMUT | Porn with plot, use of traffic light system, lots of dirty talk, praise kink, sir kink, size kink, hair pulling, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), squirting, cream pie, aftercare

A/N | This one-shot is written based on a request I received from a lovely Anon! From the moment this appeared in my asks, I could not stop thinking about it, and @ccbsrmsf1 and I have been drooling about this since that moment. So dear Anon, if you wish to reveal yourself (if not, I totally understand that too!) I'd love for you to send me a DM so I can thank you personally for your amazing ideas! 🩷

A/N 2.0 | This is proofread by my best friend and biggest supporter on this website, @ccbsrmsf1. I wouldn't be here without you today, and I cannot thank you enough! I love you 3000 🩷

EVENTS Masterlist | @anyfandomfluffbingo | Journalist!Reader Masterlist | @multifandom-flash | Grow Old With Me

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist

The past three months have been interesting, to say the least. From being asked to interview none other than Iron Man himself about his research on nanotechnology to shadowing him for five months, it is a rollercoaster you never expected to get onto. Still, you do not want to get off because it's too much fun.

But that's not all because, during these months, you and Tony have also been building on the sexual tension that is palpable between the two of you. From semi-innocent flirting to not-so-innocent grinding on the dancefloor after a few drinks, it has all passed the revue, and it is like a rubber band that is about to snap. One more move, and it will snap, leaving both of you to lust after the other like never before.

Today, you're just observing Tony as he's working on his research, which would have been simple enough if it weren't for the fact that he's wearing a skintight shirt that exposes his broad shoulders, muscly, veiny, bulging biceps and forearms. His large, strong hands with long, skilled fingers have been the subject of your wet dreams. Your lip is pulled between your teeth as you look at him.

The shirt is pulled tight over his chest and abdomen, allowing you to drink in every inch of his muscles, which leads you to his narrow waist and thick legs covered in dark jeans that seem to hug his thick bulge and round butt perfectly, making you squeeze your legs together at the sight.

"Are you enjoying yourself over there, Sweets?" Tony asks with a quirked brow, and your eyes snap up to his as a flush appears on your cheeks at the fact you've been caught. You nod shyly, and a mischievous grin dances on Tony's lips as he walks over to where you're sitting on a table, which is the perfect spot to observe what he is doing.

"Did you like what you just saw? I'm sure you did because you've been clenching these delicious thighs and biting that perfect lip the entire time, huh? Don't think I haven't noticed it, Sweets; I can smell your arousal on the other side of the lab," he tells you in a low, rumbling voice that sends shivers down your spine.

"Y-yes, sir," you stammer out, the red color on your cheeks deepening when he stands before you. He moves forward as he places his hands on the table on either side of you, and you can't help but tremble as he's mere inches away from your face.

You accidentally knock something off the table as you shift your body a little to be more comfortable, and the heat on your cheeks now spreads from the tips of your ears down your chest as the embarrassment takes over completely. However, before you can think about it too much, Tony has cupped your face in his large hand, feeling the warmth radiating onto his long, calloused fingers.

"It's okay, Sweets. Nothing to be embarrassed about," he whispers before leaning forward, his lips kissing softly on the corner of your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of the softness of his lips on your face, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.

"A-are you sure?" you ask, and he nods.

"I'm sure. Whatever it is that you broke is nothing that I cannot replace; otherwise, it wouldn't be lying out here on the table," he says, and you can feel yourself already becoming calmer, the tension you were feeling earlier slowly replacing with need at the close proximity between you two.

Tony's hand drops down from your face to your bare thigh as he trails the tips of his fingers to the edge of your skirt, teasing you a little as a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"You're perfect like this," he whispers in your ear, and you can't suppress the soft moan escaping your lips as he says those words. You have always enjoyed receiving praise, but hearing it from Tony does something to you that you have never considered. It only arouses you further.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice your skirt, Sweets? It barely covers your ass, so it's no wonder I could tell that you want me. You do want me, don't you?" Tony whispers between the kisses from your jaw to your throat until he reaches the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

You moan out a soft yes, and a small smile tugs at the corners of Tony's lips. Hearing that you want him just as much as he wants you has him twitching in his pants. He dares to move his fingers beneath the hem of your skirt. Just far enough to have a little taste of the skin hidden by the denim fabric, yet not enough to give you what you desperately want.

"Good girl," Tony tells you as you spread your thighs slightly, giving him the access you know he's been asking for without actually saying it. The flush on your cheeks returns as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hide the fact that his praise is making your stomach flip and your skin feel like it's on fire.

Your breath hitches as you feel Tony's finger hook behind the elastic of your panties, allowing it to glide along the seam where your thigh meets your hip before moving away again just before he reaches the place you need him most. And once more, you're clenching around nothing because he loves being a tease.

A slight pout on your face has him chuckling before he leans in and kisses it away with a small peck, a smile taking its place instead when he pulls away. His hands slide under the hem of your shirt before pulling it off and over your head, revealing the light pink lingerie you're wearing underneath.

"This color looks beautiful on you, Sweets, but I know for sure it'll look even better on the floor," he says teasingly as he unclasps it, the fabric sliding down your arms and onto the floor effortlessly. His breath hitches in his throat as he sees what you've been hiding all this time, as two small, silver rings are adorning your nipples.

"Fuck," he whispers as he keeps staring for just a second too long, the blood in his body rushing to his cock at a rapid pace now that he notices them. Maybe you're not as innocent as he may have thought you to be, and he's practically drooling at the sight in front of him.

When he finally snaps back to reality, he grabs both your breasts, kneading them softly as he revels in the soft moans you let out. He cannot get enough of hearing them, though his ultimate goal is to have you screaming his name as loud as you possibly can, no matter who can hear it.

"Who would have thought that someone as sweet as you has her nipples pierced, hm? I bet they're nice and sensitive," he says as he softly tugs on the rings before playing with your nipples, your head falling back as the pleasure is increasingly growing. Tony takes the opportunity to suck some bruises onto your neck where it meets your shoulder, your fingers lacing into his hair.

Soft moans keep tumbling from your lips as the two of you stay like this for a while. Tony's lips on your neck have the arousal pooling in your panties again, and you're pretty sure there's a small puddle on the table where you're sitting at this point. From the teasing to the way he plays with your nipples and the praise he gives you, he is doing a damn good job of having you melt into a puddle.

"S-sir," you moan out eventually, the ache between your legs too much to handle at this point. Your clit is throbbing in anticipation as he pulls away, his gaze locking onto yours. The brown of his eyes is almost completely gone as lust has taken over.

"What's on your mind, Sweets?" Tony says sweetly, and you slip into the fuzzy headspace you always enjoy getting lost in.

"I need you," you whisper almost inaudibly, your eyes locked in a heated, lustful gaze.

"Yeah? Do you need Sir to play with that cute button between your legs? Or do you want me to slip my fingers in that undoubtedly tight, warm, and dripping pussy of yours?" he asks, and your eyes flutter closed at the thought of his fingers inside you, bringing you to your orgasm.

"Both," you tell him, and Tony can handle only so much before his restraint snaps. His fingers glide past your bare stomach down to your skirt, which has ridden up entirely from the rocking motions of your hips.

"What's your color, Sweets?" he asks, and your eyes slowly open before finding his. You may never have discussed the traffic light system with him before, but you still need to be aware of what he's talking about, and it gives you a warm sense of security.

"So, SO fucking green," you tell him with your eyes half-lidded, and Tony can't help but feel proud at the way you are already so fucked out, despite him barely touching you. It's a sight he knows he will never get enough of.

"Good girl," he says before pulling down your panties, the soaked fabric being put in the back pocket of his jeans to save for later. A soft moan slips past your lips again, and Tony can't stop reveling in the fact that you have a huge praise kink. He already knows he will make good use of that newfound knowledge.

"Does my girl like to be praised?" he asks, his fingers leisurely gliding through your folds to gather the slick between them, and he can tell you're increasingly getting wetter with his question. Your hands fly to his hair as he finds your clit, and you pull him close before moaning a yes into his ear.

His cock twitches in his pants at the way you're melting into a puddle under his touch, and he's reveling in every little moan and whimper slipping past your beautiful, soft, pink lips. The way the pad of his finger feels against your sensitive clit have you jolting each time they make contact, and you can't stop pulling on his dark brown locks as the pleasure inside you keeps building and building.

Almost as if he can sense it, Tony slips a finger into your pussy, being careful not to hurt you as he slides it in. Your head falls back as the pleasure takes over your body; the whimpers and moans from your lips only intensify when your orgasm creeps closer and closer until it washes over you with a scream of his name.

"That's it, Sweets, doing so well for me! You look fucking gorgeous when you cum," he groans out as you tremble, his fingers now making the filthiest, most delicious squelches as your arousal only grows. His fingers are like magic, and you only want more.

"Yeah?" you ask shyly when Tony's worked you through your orgasm, ensuring you don't crash from your high all of a sudden. A blush is adorning your face at the praise Tony has given you, and you can't stop yourself from wanting more of it and more of him.

"Fuck yes, 's the prettiest fuckin' sight I've ever seen, Sweets. Now I can't wait to see what you look like when you cum on my cock," he tells you, and the color on your cheeks deepens at the thought of Tony stretching you on his cock.

"Let's find out then, shall we?" you ask playfully, and Tony cannot say no to an offer like that. When you offer yourself up on a silver platter like that, he will definitely take his share of you. It would be stupid to deny himself something he so desperately wants, after all.

Before you know it, Tony is completely bare, and you can't stop staring at the monster of a cock that is standing at attention between his legs. The tip is already leaking pre-cum, and the blue veins running from the tip down his shaft don't go unnoticed by you, either. Finishing that with the way his balls look as they hang perfectly underneath it, and you know you're in love. With him. With his cock. With everything.

"Do you like what you see? If you want, you can give it a little touch first; it won't bite," Tony says as he steps closer, and you bite your lip as his cock bobs up and down with every step. You reach out on instinct, and you gasp at the way your hand can barely close around his girth.

"Hmm, look at that, Sweets. It's so big you can barely hold it all; are you sure it will all fit inside that tight pussy?" he teases you, and you nod immediately as you look up at him, your eyes torn away from his cock for the first time since he revealed it. Your hand moves up and down as he comes to stand between your legs, soft groans leaving his chest as you do so.

"God, you're perfect. Fuckin' perfect," he grits out as he thrusts carefully into your hand, trying not to stimulate himself too much before he cums without having even felt the warmth of your pussy yet. As he keeps praising you, your pussy clenches around nothing as you're aching for his cock to be put inside you, to slide home just the way you both want.

He can feel himself getting dangerously close to the edge, and before it's too late, he grips your wrist carefully, stopping your movements. You look up at him with concern, but he's quick to ease your mind.

"I was about to cum, Sweets, 'n' I don't want to yet," he tells you, and you nod. You let go of his cock, instead letting your hand dip down to play with his balls, which was a genius move as he moans loudly as you give them a gentle squeeze. He's very sensitive there, and you're dripping onto the table at the thought that it's you who does that to him.

"God, you're doin' so well for me, Sweets. Play with my balls like that; j-just roll 'em a bit," he whispers, and you do as he asks, pride swelling in your chest at his words. His cock throbs each time you squeeze them gently, rolling them in your hand, which barely fits around them. Even his balls are big in your hand, and Tony cannot get enough of the sight.

"That's enough for now," he tells you gently, and you let them go, already missing their weight in your hand. Despite their size, they were surprisingly comfortable in your hand, which is something you would never have thought.

As you wait for Tony to make the next move, he lifts his hand to tilt your head back a little, his finger touching your chin ever so slightly.

"I want you to know that if we continue, you can tell me to stop whenever you want. You can say yellow if you're uncomfortable and need to switch positions or red if you must stop altogether. Do you understand that?" Tony asks, and the care in his voice has your heart beat faster.

"Yes, sir," you whisper, and Tony rewards you with a small, soft kiss on your lips. It's not enough to get lost in, but enough to leave you wanting more, which is what he was going for.

"What's your color now?"

"Green, Sir. Very green," you tell him, and he nods. There are no signs of discomfort on your face, and Tony gives you a slight smirk as he grabs his cock this time, pumping it a few times before pulling you to the edge of the table and dragging his cock through your folds a few times. An obscenely loud moan escapes your lips as his tip rubs over your sensitive clit, and Tony feels himself throbbing in his hand.

"Lean back for me, Sweets," he tells you, and you do as he asks. The sight that unfolds has Tony squeezing himself at the base of his cock to ensure he doesn't cum yet. Your body looks like it's glowing, and your nipple piercings glisten beautifully in the lights of his lab, making him throb in his hand.

A groan escapes his lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, the warmth of your body already luring him in. The moment he pushes in, your soft, velvet walls envelop his tip, and he knows he's a goner, and he never wants to let you go. You're his.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me like a fuckin' slut; I can barely slide my cock in when you do that!" Tony groans out as you let out a string of broken moans at his words, your nails scratching his back to ground yourself as the pleasure builds quickly. He slowly rocks back and forth, your pussy stretching gradually around his girth.

"Oh, you like it when I talk dirty, don't you? When I call you out for what you are, just a slut who wants to be filled by my cock," Tony says with a mischievous smirk. As the words sink in with you, you let out a long, deep moan, unable to form a coherent thought at this point, but you're feeling so good that all you can do is let the pleasure take over now.

When he's about halfway in, he tears his gaze from his cock, sliding in and out of you to have a look at the way you're looking now. Eyes half-lidded and completely dark with lust, a flush on your cheeks, and your mouth slightly parted— a perfect sight for Tony to enjoy.

"Look at me, Sweets; look in my eyes and answer me. Does my filthy slut like it when Sir talks dirty to her? When I tell you that I'm about to fuck you dumb until you're nothing but a cockdrunk mess for me?" he asks you, and all you can do is nod right now. His words are nestling deep into your brain, and your nipples pebble at the thoughts he's planting.

"You're perfect for me, Sweets. Doin' so well for me right now," he then praises you, and a flush appears on your cheeks from the sudden change in tone. He keeps carefully sliding in deeper, ensuring you have enough time to adjust to his length and girth as he does.

"Color?" he asks when a soft whimper suddenly tumbles from your lips. The last thing he wants is to cause you discomfort, and he will ensure you are given the chance to speak up if needed. Even though it takes you quite a long moment to gather your thoughts, you finally manage to tell him you're good to go.

"M so fucking green," you tell him with a sudden boost of confidence, and his mouth curls into a knowing smile. Now that he's satisfied with your answer, he starts to thrust in deeper, and the second he hits your sweet spot, your head falls back, and you moan loudly, your nipples even perking up at the sensation.

"Hmm, does my girl like it when Sir is this fucking deep? I bet you do, huh?" he asks, and you nod in response. It feels incredible, and you want more of it. You want Tony to stretch you and fuck you until you can't walk anymore. You want all of that and more.

"Y-yes!" you tell him, and he almost pulls out before slamming his cock deep into you, pulling the most delicious scream for your chest as you can't hold it back.

"Scream for me, scream my fucking name as I fuck you," Tony says through gritted teeth. He thrusts his cock deeper into you, and you are sure you can almost feel him in your throat with how deep he fucks you. He hooks his hands behind your knees before lifting them and practically folding you in half on the table.

When you're comfortable in your new position, he leans in, pressing his chest against yours and placing your ankles on his shoulders. In this position, he can truly fuck you deep and hard, and your back arches against him as the pleasure inside you builds even higher this way.

"God, look at you; you like being bent in half, don't you? I can just put you in whichever position and fuck you however I want, can't I?" he says, but you're too far gone even to realize what he's saying. The moans that are coming out are practically endless. Despite that, he can feel you gripping onto his cock like a vice, sucking him deeper with each thrust.

"My little slut enjoys it when I fuck her stupid, huh? Yeah, that's why you're moaning for me. And here I thought you were just an innocent little girl. Oh no, you're a fucking slut who likes to be told what to do, aren't you?" he asks, the table now shaking and more items falling off from the intense rocking motions.

"Y-yes! M your slut!" is all you can bring out as he sets a pace that has you seeing stars. The way his balls smack against your ass makes a sound that has you blushing intensely, and the squelching sound your pussy makes with every thrust has you only getting wetter.

"Can't wait to stuff you full with my cum, then watch it drip out before I fuck it right back in with my cock," he tells you, and it makes you feel like you're floating as it sets your veins on fire at the same time, you have never felt this dirty yet so good at the same time.

"Yes! Please fuck your cum in me," you moan out before pulling him towards you by his hair, your lips colliding in a bruising kiss, your tongues fighting for dominance. The combination of everything together has you moaning into his mouth as he keeps fucking you, and before you know it, you're cumming hard.

With a scream of his name, you squirt all over his cock, legs, and the floor, your legs trembling uncontrollably and your vision going white around the edges for a moment. Tony keeps praising you as he fucks you through it, and you're clenching down on his cock as you cum, making him unable to hold out any longer as well.

"Yes, yes, YES! Oh god, you fucking squirted like a perfect girl! I can't believe how lucky I am right now, Sweets! Getting squirted on by my girl feels so fucking amazing!" he pants out, and it does not go unnoticed by you that he calls you his girl.

"M yours, m all yours, Tony," you say between ragged breaths, and with those words, he has reached his orgasm as well, as he shoots every last drop of his cum into your tight heat. He can't stop moaning your name over and over again as he nuzzles his face into your neck, needing to have you as close as physically possible.

"You're absolutely amazing, Sweets—an amazing woman, an amazing journalist, and, above all, my amazing girl. Because I'm not letting you go after this," he whispers against your neck, and you agree as you wrap your hands around his neck.

"All yours," you tell him. The two of you stay like that for a few more moments before Tony has to pull out, his cock too sensitive to remain inside you any longer.

"Shall we take a bath together?" he offers, and you nod. After throwing on Tony's t-shirt, which is about three or four sizes too large and practically a dress on you, he walks you to the elevator that goes right to his penthouse. He just pulled on his jeans without bothering to button them; he'll be pulling them off shortly anyway.

Thankfully, the bath doesn't take long to be drawn and ready. You let out a soft groan as you sink in the hot water, allowing your sore muscles to relax. Tony follows you soon after, having gotten two bottles of water and some fruit to enjoy while you're in the bath.

"Y'know, I was trying to be gentle with you, but as soon as I figured out you're just a filthy slut like me, I couldn't hold back," he whispers in your ear as you're straddling his lap, his cock trapped between your bodies. A lopsided grin lies on his lips as he looks at the blush developing on your cheeks, and he wants to make you blush even more because it has quickly become his favorite color. 

Instead of answering, you lean forward to capture his lips with yours as your fingers glide into his messy curls to pull him closer. The kiss starts slow as you discover the feeling of his lips sliding over yours, but as time goes on, your tongues begin to mingle, too. The taste of something exciting and new invades all your senses, and you're hooked, only wanting more of him and how he makes you feel.

When you finally pull away, there's a smile on your face, but Tony can tell it's not reaching your eyes. The smile he's been craving to see isn't fully there, and his brows are furrowed at the realization.

"What's on your mind, Sweet Girl?" Tony asks, and you drop your gaze as the embarrassment replaces the butterflies that were going crazy in your stomach.

"S nothing, Tony," you whisper, but he knows that's not true. If it has you feeling like this, there is probably something wrong, and he wants to learn all about it so he can fix it, no matter what he would have to do for you. He'd fly to the moon and back if that's what you wanted him to do, no questions asked.

"I may not have known you long, but your mood doesn't turn from one end to the other without a reason. I respect it if you don't want to talk about it, but I also think it will make you feel better if you do," Tony tells you before he gives a soft kiss on your forehead.

With a soft sigh, you plant your hands on both sides of his arc reactor, and the slight hum coming from it makes you feel a little more at ease. It's barely noticeable, but it's enough to calm your nerves, and you decide to tell him what's exactly on your mind. When your eyes lock onto him, you can feel tears burning at the corners of them, a bit afraid of what his response will be.

"I-Is this just a one-time thing? Because if it is, I'd like to know now so I can prepare myself for the heartbreak later," you whisper, the tears spilling over your cheeks. You've been through this too many times to count, and you do not want to be on the receiving end of yet another rejection.

"What? Of course not, Sweets. When I told you you're mine earlier, I meant it. I mean it! We've built a connection over the past three months that I have not felt with anyone in a long time, and I definitely do not consider this a one-time thing. I'm so fuckin' in love with you, I would be crazy to let you go now," he says, and your eyes grow wide as saucers at his confession.

"Y-you're in love with me?" you stammer, the butterflies in your stomach immediately returning at his confession.

"I am, Sweets. I've never met anyone as smart, caring, and sweet as you. And you're very easy on the eyes, too," he says with a wink, making you smile.

"I wouldn't have had sex with you if I didn't think it would go anywhere after today, Baby. You're too special for me to let go, and I want to explore whatever this is between us. But most of all, I'd like to kiss you right now because these lips have been calling my name the entire time," he says as he leans in, capturing your mouth with his.

When you pull away, you give him a soft smile before nuzzling your face into his neck, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulls you closer until you doze off for a short nap. When you wake up, Tony wipes some hair out of your face, and you're met with a gentle smile on his face.

"How're you feeling, Sweets?" Tony asks before popping a raspberry in his mouth, the sweet yet tangy taste invading his mouth as he listens to what you have to say.

"Good. Tired- but good," you tell him with a dopey smile. You're fully relaxed as you sit in the bath with the man you've fallen in love with. And now that you're his, life couldn't be any better.

"I'm glad. And for the record, I meant what I said earlier. I'm not letting you go after this, especially after I've gotten my slice of heaven earlier," he tells you, and you let yourself melt against his body.

"I know, and I don't want to go, Tony. I want to stay in our slice of heaven for as long as you'll have me," you tell him, sealing the deal with a soft, gentle kiss. After that, you let out a small sigh of relief before Tony hand-feeds you more fruits, and you've never been happier in your life than you are now.

What started as nothing more than another job for you has developed into a new chapter of your life, and you're excited to see where this story will go from here on out.

[everparanoid]

Soft Universe Sylus x F! Reader

word count: 5.4k

tags: fluff, angst

cw: reader is MC from love and deepspace, minor hades and persephone vibes, Canon typical violence, Canon Compliant, No use of Y/N, minor spoilers for Sylus's secret time Midnight Warmth and Lost Oasis, inspired by the Sylus's event story in Adventure Above Clouds

AO3 link: Soft universe

"With a scream, you bent back as a beam of brilliant light shot out of your chest, illuminating the sky with crimson stars. Each one bright. Each one filled with memories you knew were yours but couldn’t recall like lifetimes come and gone. Or universes born and destroyed."

Ever since you resontated with Sylus you have been having weird dreams. Or a story in which you are bound to Sylus again and he becomes clingyier than usual.

You dreamt of red mist encasing you in its warm embrace, licking at your heels, and trailing its ghostly lips along your body. Leaving in its wake skin the shade of sunset and a heart so full it could burst. You dreamt of it traversing the surface of your soul, gathering the embers of your evol and moulding them with its own before huddling into the open void in your chest.

A groan left you as the mist disappeared under your skin. Despite the initial discomfort, you didn’t hate the oddly familiar sensation of being whole.

You took an unsteady step forward. Beneath your feet, you could no longer feel the ground. Above you, the starless sky loomed. You blinked refocusing your eyes, believing they were the issue, not the lack of starlight. But nothing changed.

You heard the caw of a crow. In the darkness, you saw its ruby eyes watching you, piercing through your skin, and staring straight into your soul. Your heart thumped, beating faster, harder, growing hotter with every passing second. You keeled over, clutching your chest.

Your power, you heard the mist say. Yours.

You felt the bird's keen eyes as light burst through the cracks between your taut fingers. With a scream, you bent back as a beam of brilliant light shot out of your chest, illuminating the sky with crimson stars. Each one bright. Each one filled with memories you knew were yours but couldn’t recall like lifetimes come and gone. Or universes born and destroyed.

 The dream dissipated and your eyes fluttered open to see fire dancing in turbulent strokes in the fireplace, charring the wood that fuelled it. In the distance you heard the quiet murmuring of a film on the flat screen. You slapped your lips tiredly, rubbing your cheek against the warm, unusually hard cushion you clung to.

“This movie is boring. You should go back to sleep,” Sylus said, brushing your cheek gently. The tender touch was scolding on your skin.

 You nuzzled your head further into the hard cushion. A deep chuckle shook through it.

“What are you thinking about, kitten?” Sylus asked.

His heart raced against your ear, burning through its beats as though it were chasing death. It must have been night, you reckoned. His heart was only ever this fast in the dark.

“Sylus…” you whispered groggily.  Your focus locked on the familiar necklace resting on his chest—an empty aether core? A Protocore? A simple crystal? You yawned, blinking once, twice…three times. Wait Sylus!

You shot up, attempting to pull away. But finding your movement restricted by an inhumane force, you fell back on top of him.

 “Surprise. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He lifted his arm and yours lifted too revealing the glowing crimson evol link cuffing you to the renowned Onychinus leader. “Were you thinking of getting rid of me again?”

The amused smirk on his lips told you he wasn’t angry, but rather entertained.

“No,” you responded.

“Being quick to respond only confirms your guilt, sweetie.”

You tugged your arm, pulling his too. 

 He grunted quietly. “Your defiance is getting old.”

“Maybe if you stopped putting me in awkward situations it wouldn’t,” you responded.

He sighed and squinted at you.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself? ” you teased.

“Silence is also an answer.” He lowered his head closer to yours. “And I like to think that actions speak louder than words.”

Sylus was a gorgeous man; breathtaking to say the least. Just being close to him made your heart betray you in ways you hated. You let out a gasp. “Sy—,”

His phone buzzing on the coffee table interrupted you. He grabbed his phone and put it on silent.

 “What time is it?” you asked. You tried to peer at the screen’s reflection in Sylus’s frameless glasses but failed.

 He turned his screen to you. “Nearly two am.”

“Why are you here? Don’t you have some gang to bully? Or some notorious deals to strike?” you asked. It had been a coincidence, your bumping into each other whilst you were taking a three day vacation from Linkon in one of the outskirt islands. A pure innocent coincidence—according to Sylus. You struggled to believe that, however, as it wasn’t the first time Sylus had conveniently appeared at the same place as you. Seemingly with nothing to do but be mysterious and strange and there.

He shook his head. “Have you forgotten?”

You had forgotten but only because of your dream. It wasn’t every day you had a nightmare so vivid that it tore you out of your sleep. It hadn’t always been every day. Only since you made the mistake of resonating with this unlikely ally.

“You got injured snowboarding with your colleagues. And I happened to be returning back to the resort when they saw me and pawned you off. Apparently they wanted to do another few rounds with the people they met.”

You frowned. You only vaguely remembered the incident. More so the tree that you had wiped out against. Everything else was a blur. You knew sylus had no reason to lie, so you chose to believe him. It wasn’t like Sylus and your colleagues didn’t know each other to some degree. Sharing a karaoke booth with Sylus was enough time for anyone to develop a trauma bond. It was like war…without the bloodshed. “Doesn't explain where they are now.”

“I used your phone to tell them I’d watch you for the night—ease their minds.”

“How valiant of you,” you ad-libbed.

“I did try to leave after making sure your condition wasn’t critical but you asked me to stay,” Sylus said. “Then you pulled me onto this couch with you and this happened.” He gestured to the link.

You looked away flustered. “Must have slipped my mind.”

“You’re so air-headed, kitten,” Sylus tutted.

The depth of his voice rattled you; made your skin feverish and a sudden flush spread through you. You noted your sudden reaction to his voice as an after effect of your accident. You straightened hoping fixing your posture would disperse the settling arousal. And in some pseudoscientific way, it did.

Mephisto squaking in the corner snapped your mind back to the crow in your dream. “Sylus, can I ask you a question?” you asked. You were being abstract but with this burning question fresh on your mind you didn't care.

“You just did.”

You rolled your eyes but asked anyway: “Do crows have dreams?”

“Is that seriously what you are asking me right now?” he responded.

“I’m being serious.” Your voice remained steady as your head lifted high.  “Does Mephisto dream?” you asked motioning with your eyes to the mechanical bird.

Sylus’s gaze followed.

Mephisto lifted his wings in response.

“Whether Mephisto does or doesn’t dream is beyond me. He is a mechanical bird after all. Dreaming isn’t something I programmed into him. If he were to dream, I suppose it would be recounts of recorded data or lines of code,” Sylus said.

Mephisto cawed again.

 Sylus looked back at you. “Does that answer your question?”

  You shook your head.

He sighed and cocked his head. He didn’t appear too surprised by your lack of satisfaction, more so by your inability to believe hard fact. “Then enlighten me, do you believe doves dream?”

Remembering the dove you had saved a few months back, you nodded.  “Yes.”

“So, why would crows be any different?”

“Okay, sorry for not thinking things all the way through, Mr philosophical,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “I was just answering your question, sweetie.”

You yawned.

 “You should get back to sleep,” Sylus whispered. “It’s still late for you. And I’d like to be free sometime soon.”

“I can’t,” you said.

His phone buzzed in his hand taking his attention. “Nightmare?”

“Nightmare,” you agreed.

He hummed listlessly as he scrolled through his phone, typing and swiping. “Am I allowed to ask what it was about?”

“It’s nothing really.”

Sighing, Sylus placed down his phone. “You still should rest... Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Oh no, please God no. I’d rather have Mephisto sing to me.” You physically cringed.

Mephisto squawked in protest.

Sylus ignored your dread. “Do you want me to tell you a story then?”

“No.”

He glanced at you. “I thought you quite enjoyed the last one?”

“I don’t know what Kieran and Luke told you a story is, but I think you have it misconstrued.” You wanted to cross your arms but remembered the link binding your arm to his.

“Oh?” He quipped. “It has a beginning, middle, and an end. Perhaps also a little filler to transition from plot point to plot point. That’s a story, sweetie.”

“And the demonstration?” you asked.

“Audience participation.”

 “I think you'll find that serves the opposite effect of telling someone a bedtime story.” You recalled the bites that had stained your skin pinks and purples the day after his ‘story.’  Which, much to his enjoyment, resulted in you having to extend your trip as there was no way you could go back to work in that state. Not unless you lied. And as good as you were, you knew no one would believe you had been attacked by a Wanderer.

Not Tara, who was obsessed with the idea of you and Sylus being more than friends ever since she met him. Nor Nero in Data Analysis because he was a bit of a freak when it came to anything concerning Wanderers. So you imagined a lie of that sort wouldn’t slip past him. And if it somehow did, you didn’t want to end up in a heated conversation about the potential mating rituals of Wanderers. Nero’s fascination was weird enough as it was without going anywhere near that topic.

“You fell asleep, didn’t you?” Sylus said.

You had… eventually. And unfortunately, when you had fallen asleep—exhausted from his playful bites, you’d slept the most soundly you had in years. Right in the arms of this criminal. You stomach churned at the memory. A hunter and a wanted mob boss…how unprofessional. “Because you were relentless.”

“Don’t act so innocent. You were actively enjoying our little roleplay. And as I recall you were the one who said I looked like a vampire.”

The tips of your ears burned. You stared up at the ceiling to avoid his gaze.

The empty ceiling stared back at you like a starless night; an endless void…a pit of nothing.

Your wrist tingled with the heat of the link binding you to Sylus. You felt a strange familiarity spreading up your arm. One that followed you out of your dreams. “Sylus…”

 “What is it?”

“Do you dream?” you whispered, staring into the darkness. You could hear his quiet contemplation from beside you.

“Not often,” he responded.

“Really?”

“You sound so surprised…” Sylus said.  “Dreams aren’t for those without hearts, sweetie.”

“You keep saying that,” you said.

“I keep saying—”

You could feel his stare. Slowly turning your head, you looked at him. “That you have no heart. I don’t believe it. Someone without a heart wouldn’t take care of me when I hit my head and listen to me when I ask them to stay.” You paused. “Okay...hypothetically, what do you dream about?”

He slipped his free arm under your shoulder and pulled you back toward his chest. “Why are you suddenly so curious about my dreams? Is it something to do with this nightmare?”

“No, I just—” you lied. The words fell out of your mouth like vomit.

He chuckled. “I don’t care for dreams because everything I could want I can get. And nightmares—well, you already know that there isn’t much in this universe scarier than me.”

“Must be nice to have the means to buy whatever you want.”

“You clearly don’t know me if you assume everything I want can be bought.”

“Can’t it?” You searched his gaze for some kind of answer, as if by searching those red pools you might see his desire. But instead, it stared right back at you; soft, unwavering, beckoning.

Come to me.

You looked away.

“No,” he said.

You dreamt of laying on the top of a hill dressed in a gown of white silk. You didn’t know how you arrived here, or why you were dressed in such finery. Flowers surrounded you, red-stained daisies and carnations, swaying in the gentle night breeze. You plucked one and held it up to your nose. It smelt of fresh pollen and mint. You hummed in approval, not questioning the oddity, and picked another, and another, till in your arms you held a bundle of red flowers.

You smiled warmly at your beautiful collection. A bundle of love and devotion, picked by you—for you. You decided then that you liked this place. This starless night haven of endless flowers. And thought, if this dream was the place you would be stuck forever then eternity didn’t sound too bad.

Just as the thought passed through your mind something spawned in the bundle. A pomegranate. You’d never seen one spawn from flowers. You didn’t know one could do so. It was so beautiful, however, that you didn’t think to question it.

At the sight, your stomach rumbled. You weren’t hungry until then. Or rather you hadn’t noticed you were hungry until the opportunity to eat arrived. It was like this place had read into your soul and presented you with your desire before you could even desire it. Was this paradise or a paradise lost?

Dropping the flowers, you lifted the pomegranate. With a twist, the ripe fruit split in half in your hand. You’d never seen a pomegranate so easy to split; usually, you would need a knife.

The juice stained your white dress in droplets of blood-like splotches. It dribbled down your hand leaving a sticky trail. You licked the mess off your skin before you picked up some of the fallen seeds—three to be exact—and ate them. They were sweet in your mouth.

Ravenous, you ate another, and then one more. And after that one more.

You only ate six. You knew because, at that moment, a red shackle appeared on your wrist and a hellish scream tore through the air. Your head shot up in wonder, like a prey alarmed by the snap of a twig. In the distance, a volcanic beam of light erupted into the sky. You recognized it by the familiar ache that resonated through you, but you didn’t know why. You shielded your eyes as you watched crimson stars fill the empty sky, covering the expanse in colourful noise, and leaving in its wake a hole in space and time.

Forgetting your flowers and pomegranates, you wiped your hands on your stained white silk dress. You reached up with a single hand toward the tunnel. You didn’t know why you did it. You didn’t understand what this feeling was that you were chasing. You only knew that you longed for it. You needed it like you needed air to breathe and eyes to see. Perhaps this was love?

Crimson shone between the gaps of your fingers, blinding you of anything but the tunnel. It gaped and shrivelled in intervals as if it were alive.

Come to me, said a voice from the tunnel.

Its coo guided you to your feet. But even on the tips of your toes, you were no closer to the heavens than you were before.

Come to me, it said again. It beckoned to you… calling your name. Its voice was clearer, familiar.

You knew that you knew it.

You reached further. Biting the inside of your cheek, your strain began to show on your face. If you reached anymore you were going to fall. But you were so desperate, you didn’t even care. You needed this—needed it.

The hole stretched and a mangled inhuman hand pushed through. Its long-scorched fingers reached out to yours.

Just when your hand was about to touch it, you pulled back. “No,” you said in a moment of hesitation. “I must go home.”

The mangled hand recoiled before shooting forward to grab you.

You evaded it, losing your footing.

Come, it said again. Come to me.

Terror claimed you. It burnt the sky around you from night-to-day and scorched the flowers beneath your bare feet.

Stay with me.

The earth shook.

Losing your footing, you rolled down the hill, tumbling in cartwheels through the bleeding flowers. Daises and carnations filled your mouth. Red paint dyed your dress. You sealed your eyes shut. You couldn’t tell if it was the earth shaking or just you.

You wished the dream away. You prayed for the familiar darkness. You prayed for ignorance—for the you you lost to knowledge. But most of all, you prayed for the cold.

You awoke in a king-sized bed covered in dark silk sheets. Sylus’ bed, you thought. He must have moved you when it had gotten closer to his time for bed. But Sylus was nowhere to be seen.

 You sat up and looked around. The night light beside the bed lit the room showcasing the extravagant dark furniture. The sound of water running through the foggy glass doors to the en-suite bathroom, and the off-key hummed rendition of some jazz he had on loop informed you of Sylus’ location.

“He’s showering,” you whispered to yourself.

Mephisto cawed from where he was perched.

When you stared at him, he lifted his wings and cawed again.

“I don’t speak crow,” you responded.

“And he doesn’t speak human,” Sylus said, closing the door to the bathroom. Steam pulsed off his wet body as he emerged in only a fluffy white towel.

You gulped, closing your legs under the covers. Not that it would do anything for the feelings that arose from the sight of him. Not even disgust could repel your natural desire for someone so physically alluring.

“I thought you were showering,” you said tightly.

Sylus scoffed. “And you were asleep. I guess we were both wrong, kitten.” 

You frowned.

Sylus approached the dresser and lifted the hairdryer. Slicking back his hair, he began to dry it with the dryer.

You shuffled to the edge of the bed and held out your hand for the hairdryer. “Let me do that.”

Catching your reflection in the mirror, he turned to you. “What? You want to do this for me?” he asked, switching off the hairdryer. His damp hair fell onto his forehead.

You flicked your hand impatiently. Your eyes actively avoided falling below his collarbones. “I’m trying to be nice… since you didn’t wake me when the link untangled and all. Thank you for that by the way. And sorry I took up your entire night.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re the only person I’d excuse taking up my time. Besides, that’s just common decency, sweetie.”

You blushed and gestured again for the hairdryer. You couldn’t fall for his pretty words. You weren’t that stupid. Halting your thoughts, you cleared your throat and corrected your posture. “Still—I feel like I owe you and this will make us even.” 

“Okay, deal.”

You half expected him to counter your statement and ask for more. You wouldn’t have faulted him if he had. You knew what you were suggesting wasn’t an even repayment for the time he lost, but for a man who had everything this was the only thing you could do on the fly.

His tall frame casted a shadow over you as he approached; all damp skin and wet hair. He handed you the wireless hairdryer. And then sitting on the ground at the foot of the bed, he sighed. “I didn’t know all I needed to do to get you to be nice to me was let you sleep.”

You rolled your eyes and shuffled back a little after feeling the heat of his wet body on the inside of your thighs. You tried to keep a small amount of distance not wanting to accidentally touch him. You leaned forward and cursed inaudibly at the difficult angle.

“I don’t know what hair you’re going to be drying from back there,” he cooed. Wrapping his hands around your ankles, he pulled you closer to him.

“Hey!” You yelped, sliding forward till you inner thighs pressed against his wet shoulders.

“That’s better,” he said, letting go.

 “You’re crude.”

“I was just making your job easier, kitten,” he purred.

You nudged his shoulder with your thigh and turned on the dryer. Your finger ran through his hair as you watched the water dry out and the soft greyish-white return.

Sylus closed his eyes and leaned his head back till you could see his face.

You paused. “You’re not making this easier for me,” you said, peering down at him.

He chuckled deeply. “I can’t help the fact that you have magic hands, I’ve never been so relaxed.”  He lifted his arms and rested them atop your knees like armrests. “Have you ever thought of changing careers?”

You snickered. “Are you sure you’re rich? Surely, you’ve had much better treatment than this.”

Sylus laughed with you. The sound called you broke in every way but with words. It reminded you of aged wine and expensive cuff-links, two things you had never associated with a voice until him.

You turned off the dryer and placed it on the bed.

“Why did you stop?” Sylus opened his eyes. He stared up at you from your lap. And for a man so good at being invulnerable, he looked extremely soft.

 “Your hair is dry.”

“So it is.” Sylus lifted his head. “Thank you.”

Mephisto cawed loudly and swooped out of the room. Taking Mephisto’s departure as your sign to escape too, you began to shuffle back,.

 “Where are you going?” Sylus wrapped his hands around your ankles once again stopping you.

“Mephisto is gone,” you stated as if the answer was obvious.

“And? He’s a bird, it’s not good for him to stay in one place. You’re not a bird, are you?”

You could see the hurt in his eyes.

“But it’s morning. I have stuff to do. And you should get some sleep,” you said.

“What stuff?” he asked.

You shrugged. You didn’t have many plans—maybe meet up with your colleagues. Not that they were concered about your whereabouts. Your phone hadn’t rung once.

“Since you don’t know, why don’t you stay? Your flight back to Linkon isn’t for a few days yet.” Sylus suggested, letting go of your ankles.

“Stay?”

He stood from the ground and by some will of the gods his towel stayed on. “Yes, stay…with me. It’ll be just us.” He placed his knee on the bed.

Your spine stiffened as you backed away. “I can’t lay around all day.”

“So, it’s okay that I did? Come on, sweetie, that’s not fair. Stay..” He placed his hands on either side of your head, caging you. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You pushed his chest gently—not exerting any real effort. “I dried your hair.” As much as you wanted to leave, you weren’t opposed to being stuck under him. Any sane woman wouldn’t be, especially when he was like this.

He caught your wrists and pinned them to the sheets by either side of your head. “Come on, kitten, we both know that was wasn’t an even deal.”

“What if Tara comes looking for me? Or the rest of my colleagues?” you spluttered.

“They know you’re with me. They won’t disturb,” he purred.

You pursed your lips. You knew he was right. That didn’t mean you wouldn't stop trying. “What about Mephisto? He might—“

“No one is going to disturb us, sweetie,” Sylus interrupted. “Just say you’ll stay. You were restless the entire night.”

“And you’re the one who is restless now,” you retaliated. In the settled silence, you could almost hear the thump of his heart. “Besides, I’m not tired.”

“We can fix that. Come on, sleep with me.”

You gave him an unimpressed side-eye.

“What if I said I wanted to hear a story? Would you tell me one?” he asked. He let go of one of your hands and trailed his fingers down the side of your face. Tucking them under your jaw, he guided you to look at him. His darkened gaze fell between your eyes and lips, dancing caution. Like you were a deer caught in headlights ready to disappear with any sudden movement.

“Why are you suddenly being so clingy?” you asked.

He hummed. “Am I?”

You nodded. “And you��re being too nice.”

“Are you saying I’m crass, miss?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

His eyes narrowed playfully. “Let’s say for your sake that I’ve learnt not to scare an easily startled kitten.”

“How kind…”

With his fingers still under your chin, he guided your head off the sheets, bringing you closer to him. “So, what do you say. It is a simple yes or no…sweetie?” He peered at you through thick eyelashes.

“Why should I?”

“I can hear your heart beating in sync with mine,” he said, bringing you closer.

“You’ve got me pinned to your bed—of course my heart is racing.”

“I can see the desire to stay in your eyes.” He brought you closer.

You scanned his face, barely millimetres away. “Still not good enough,” you said.

He let out a low scoff, looking directly into your eyes. “Because I need you,” he whispered against your lips.

And then he kissed you.

When you closed your eyes, you saw an expanse of dark teal grass dusted with withered, red-stained daisies and carnations. You looked around, first at the red silk dress draped over your body, and then at the tail of mangled dark scales trapping you. Beside you rested the head of the dragon-like creature, protecting you in its slumber. Your eyes traced its surface, taking in its shape and appearance—the long forked tail, wanderer-like body, and large horns. It was like nothing you’d seen before. And yet, you weren’t afraid of it.

You followed its scales with your hand until you reached its face. It stirred beneath your touch. Its deep, unconscious breaths halted as you stared into the giant red eye of the creature. Its pupil slit as it watched you, unmoving, as if waiting for your reaction—the screaming and shouting.

You dropped your hand. You hadn’t meant to wake the beast.

A low grumble reverberated through the creature’s body, one of disapproval.

You crawled slowly toward its face, watching its reaction for any signs to stop.

It stared at you, unblinking.

“Hello there,” you said, stopping beside its high cheekbone and deep crimson eye.

It didn’t respond, continuing to silently observe you.

“Do you have a name?” you asked.

Silence.

A sharp squawk made you look up as a crow flew in circles over the two of you. In the star-sprinkled sky, the crow was a black shadow with beady red eyes passing in flashes. Its speed caused feathers to flutter off its body and cascade down to the ground.

You lifted your hand and watched as a single dark feather landed on your palm. A smile curved on your lips as you admired the large feather, bigger than any crow’s feather you’d seen before—about half the length of your arm. You lifted the feather to the creature.

“For you,” you said to the creature, unsure of whether it could understand you or not. You knew you should have been afraid of the monster. You knew you should have run when you had the chance. But something about it seemed defenseless—tired.

It glanced down, motioning for you to place the feather on the ground.

You put it close to the creature’s jaw. “Where did you come from?”

It didn’t respond.

“What is this place?”

The creature moved its head closer to you, offering its snout.

You placed your hand on the creature’s face. “I suppose you don’t speak human,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a wound oozing thick blood. Your hand moved to it, blocking the hole in its chest.

At the added pressure, the creature grumbled. Slowly, its eyes closed as if to sleep—or perhaps even to die.

“Did you get this whilst protecting me?” you asked. You knew the creature needed healing, or some kind of regeneration. But its core was shattered. Under your fingers, you could only sense how weak it had gotten. It was not strong enough to keep the creature alive, let alone save it.

The creature blinked slowly.

You took that as a yes. “You shouldn’t have done that. You don’t even know me.”

It blinked again, slower this time as you felt its soul slipping from its body.

“I can help you,” you said.

You could help it. It was an ability you had, a one-time bonus that came with having your resonance evol. And you would use it—even if it cost you your power. Even if it bound you to this creature for eternity.

The creature made a sound of disapproval. And with its little strength, it moved away.

You froze so as not to anger it further. Movement was only making the creature’s wound worse.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. Think of it as repayment—common decency, if you will.” You waited for it to move again. When it didn’t, you approached it, lifting your hand. “May I?”

The creature didn’t respond, its breaths deepening.

“Thank you,” you smiled, placing your hand over the wound again. The tips of your fingers glowed as white mist gathered the embers of his evol and molded them with your own before sealing itself in the hole in his chest.

“Don’t close your eyes,” you said, mostly to yourself. “Stay with me.”

Sylus’s hand under your chin brought you back to reality as it moved to rest on the base of your throat, over your chest bone. His other hand, still holding your other wrist, unravelled. Trailing up to your palm, his fingers caressed the smooth skin before he intertwined your fingers  with his. He didn’t exert any force. No, he was careful. His body wishing, pleading, begging with yours for something beyond your awareness. Something only your soul could answer.

You could hear it promising you everything…the world, the universe. At the small price of…you. You knew he meant it. You knew this feeling. You’d felt it in your dreams. Or were they visions? Or perhaps memories from a different you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered the mangled inhuman creature and the sweet, damning taste of pomegranate seeds. And you wondered if this was how you would lose your soul—without ever being told it was on the market.

You broke the kiss. Instantly, you missed the minty taste of his lips.

  “Was I too rough?” Sylus asked. Dishevelled. Searching.

You had never seen him so disgruntled. Not since he was told you were disgusted by him after you’d met.

You shook your head.

“So, it’s something else then?” Sylus began to pull away. His hand slipped from yours, taking the connection with him.

You wanted to be thankful for your freedom…but it was too late, you already resigned yourself to your feelings.

You missed the heat.

You missed him.

Stay with me.

Was this delirium? Or some kind of Stockholm Syndrome? Loving a creature so twisted—so different from you. One who only wore the skin of a prince to lure in and devour the heart of a princess.

“Sylus,” you said. Sitting up, you caught him around his neck before he could get too far away. And with the strength you had left, you pulled him back to you. And kissed him. Silently telling him that you wanted this—you wanted him.

All of him.

And whatever that choice brought with it.

You knew he wasn’t perfect. In other lives maybe you hadn’t chosen to stay—to remain with him and his promises of grandeur amongst the destruction he sought. Maybe this time you’d chosen the path least trekked with the monster whose intent was only ever written about in the annals of history as that of the slain and evil. Ultimately, you didn’t care. You supposed that thought alone was immoral.

Sylus moaned into the kiss. It was quiet, guttural, and just enough to make you want more. You let him guide you back onto the dark silk sheets, your lips moving together all the while.

“I will,” you said between kisses. “I’ll stay.”

He didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t need to. His actions spoke louder than any words either of you could have said.

masterlist

my ao3: Everparanoid

[lynnimini]

₊⊹ 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 ₊⊹

description: fluff ⋆ university au ⋆ fuckboy taesan turned loser

in which fuckboy turned loser taesan finds himself unexpectedly chasing after a sweet and innocent girl he met at a party

pairings: h. taesan x afab!reader

words: 4.6k

warnings: mildly suggestive ⋆ cussing ⋆ mentions of alcohol & sex

author’s note: hiii it’s lynn again!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) this oneshot is partially inspired by nct dream’s japanese song “stupid cupid” so i strongly recommend that you listen to it while reading (ㅅ´ ˘ `) happy reading !!

tags: @onedoornet

the arrow of love accidentally pierced me

"i'm not going."

taesan groaned and refused to move as jaehyun and leehan pulled his arm insistently to get him off the bed, miserably failing in their attempts to drag taesan to yet another party.

"since when do you of all people say no to parties"

jaehyun scoffed and crossed his arms while taesan glared back at him.

"i wanna have fun instead of being your guys' dd again. i go to parties with you guys and don't even get to drink let alone get laid"

he complained, waving his hands back and forth as leehan sprayed cologne all over the place, obviously bored with the way things were going with jaehyun's horrible attempt at persuading taesan to come.

"you don't have to be dd so pleaseeee come with us. it's literally walking distance to the other building"

jaehyun resorted to begging, dropping to his knees and holding his hands together in front of taesan. taesan just scoffed in amusement before looking at leehan.

"no dd?"

leehan shook his head in response, ceasing his cologne attacks. taesan let out a light sigh, stretching his arms before getting up off the bed.

"dress code is formal"

jaehyun shouted excitedly before running to the other room to grab his own outfit he brought to taesan's dorm.

taesan rummaged through his closet and found a black collared shirt with dress pants. he had no clue who chose the party theme but silently thanked them for giving him an excuse to wear that one shirt that emphasized his arm muscles perfectly.

"pregame~"

jaehyun sang as he came back holding three shot glasses and some soju, quickly pouring it before handing one to each person.

"to jaehyun hopefully getting laid tonight"

leehan toasted as jaehyun shamelessly seconded the wish.

'hopefully me too if these fuckers don't ruin it again'

taesan thought to himself as they all clinked shot glasses, downing them as fast as jaehyun poured them. the three sighed as the familiar slight fuzzy feeling coursed through their veins.

"okay let's go ladies !!"

jaehyun excitedly ushered everyone out the door, practically dragging taesan out of his own home.

"i need want a girl"

jaehyun whined the entire way there, leehan silently shaking his head at his desperation while taesan exasperatedly sighed.

"you say this and fumble every time because of how drunk you get. you think you'd learn after how many times it happened"

taesan shook his head as he raised his hand to ring the doorbell. he didn't even get near it before the door swung open and the most beautiful girl he's ever seen stepped out.

"oh shit it’s freezing- oh sorry, i opened the door kinda fast didn’t i? but hey, welcome in"

you looked up with a smile at the three boys, nodding briefly before stepping outside to go to your car and grab more drinks.

jaehyun and leehan excitedly went in, taesan following suit shortly after looking back to get a good look at you. not being able to see much since it was so dark out, he just went inside to make himself a drink.

taesan forgot about you for a while, instead drinking and hanging out with other people he recognized at the party. he stayed with sungho and riwoo, his upperclassman friends from his class.

"oh y/n!"

sungho called you over and waved after seeing you finally put all the drinks on the counter. you gave him a bright smile and waved back, carefully walking over while avoiding bumping into other people.

"hey guys, how's the party?"

you asked with a slight giggle as you gave sungho a side hug, already a little tipsy from the fruity cocktail you held.

"it's great y/n. glad to see you're finally loosening up"

sungho joked as you nudged his shoulder lightly. taesan just watched your guys' interaction, mostly focusing on you. he recognized you as the one who swung open the door, and he finally got to take a good look at you in better lighting.

you were much shorter than him and wearing a tight, navy blue dress that hugged all your curves so perfectly. your hair was curled and had tiny blue bows in it to match your dress. you had glittery makeup that made you glow even more when you smiled.

it was simple: taesan couldn't keep his eyes off you. and not in the normal 'she's so bad' kinda way. he fell in love on sight.

"he's kidding, i'm actually the one who introduced him to all our regulars who throw parties"

you smiled at taesan with a hint of worry in your eyes at how dazed he seemed. taesan snapped out of it and nodded back at you.

"oh? did you two already know each other?"

riwoo asked in slight surprise, becoming even more amused when the two of you shook your heads. he'd been observing the entire thing, and could clearly see taesan was unusually interested in you.

"oh my gosh, i'm so sorry. i haven't even introduced myself yet. i'm y/n"

you smiled brightly and stuck a hand out for taesan to shake and he took it delicately, squeezing it gently. you just missed the faint blush spreading on the back of his neck before he covered it up with his hand.

"i'm taesan. i think i've seen you around campus. nursing major right?"

you adopted a look of surprise and nodded.

"yeah, how'd you know??"

"your pretty face isn't exactly forgettable, you know"

you froze up in shock at how bold taesan was being for someone you just met. taesan felt like he wanted to die at the corny line.

usually fuckboy taesan was more pulled together and could say stuff like that easily, but around you? he had no idea what had gotten into him.

sungho and riwoo just stared in astonishment at the clear flirting happening between the two of you

"sungho and i are gonna go out to the car real quick. we'll be right back"

riwoo said all of a sudden, pointedly smirking at taesan before dragging sungho off to sit outside for a bit. you watched with slight shock as the two quickly darted through the crowd to get outside, turning your attention back to an equally flustered taesan.

"okay anyways mr. stalker, i haven't seen you around campus. what's your major?"

you asked as you gestured towards the counter, offering to make taesan a drink. he quickly downed the little beer he had left and followed you.

"i'm a kines major. i saw you a couple times when preparing for the sports clinic event"

"ooh so we might be working together soon for the sports clinic event soon?"

you turned to look at him, smiling as you handed him a fruity pink cocktail. taesan looked down and smiled slightly at the glitter coating the rim, praying that it was edible as he took the glass from your hand. he didn't miss the way your hand lingered on his before fully handing it over.

"yeah, and i might be the patient with how sweet this drink looks"

taesan looked at you teasingly as he gestured to the glittery drink, making you giggle as he took a sip.

"how is it?"

"good. it's not too sweet for me, thank goodness"

taesan nodded and you let out a little sigh of relief, a smile spreading on your face as you sipped your own drink.

"so anyways, are you a lightweight?

before you two knew it, you had migrated to the couch to have an actual conversation, taking more than enough twisted teas with you.

"fuck no. bet i could drink more than you"

taesan snorted, looking at your mock offense as you gasped.

"you're on"

you grinned as you clinked cocktail glasses with him, preparing for a long night of drinking with someone new.

"so how'd you get to know sungho and riwoo?"

taesan looked at you while passing a can of twisted tea, clinking your guys' cans together while you thought of how you guys met.

"we met in one of my classes last year. those two basically took me into their friend group and watched over me since i didn't know anyone, and we got close that way. and you?"

"they're kines majors too, so we work together a lot. they're hella cool people"

you hummed and nodded in agreement.

at first it was just small talk and getting to know each other, but it quickly escalated to faint touches and obvious flirting. at least on taesan's part.

"we should meet up sometime to go eat"

taesan turned his head to look at you, both of you sitting sloppily on the couch, already pretty tipsy. you giggled and looked at him.

"i'd like that. wanna go out to eat something together?"

you kept giggling, slurring your words as you reached to clutch taesan's arm for stability before pulling away, laying down in the process. he didn't miss the way you trailed your nails down his forearm before pulling away.

"of course. make it a date?

taesan finished off his can of twisted tea before looking back at you, eyes getting heavy as he reached to interlock his fingers with yours.

before you could even say anything, taesan passed out right next to you. you shot up and checked to see if he was okay before lying back down next to him, laughing nonstop at how ridiculous the situation was.

as if on cue, jaehyun and leehan stumbled into the living room and saw taesan passed out next to you.

"did this loser actually fall asleep?"

leehan snorted as you giggled, shaking your head and clearly having no idea what was actually going on. jaehyun just laughed and worked to drag taesan up and out.

"thanks for hosting y/n. it was fun"

jaehyun gave you a smile and wave before putting taesan on his back. as the three left, your roommate came into the room with a smirk as she picked you up and brought you to your room.

"oh pretty girl, we're gonna have a fun talk tomorrow"

chaeryeong scoffed, an amused smile spreading across her lips as you smacked your lips and smiled contently as you fell asleep.

girl you got me crazy, blame it on stupid cupid

taesan woke up the next morning feeling like absolute shit. he got up to go get water from the kitchen and saw jaehyun sitting at the counter, looking like he was also dying of a fat headache.

"hey"

jaehyun croaked out as he passed taesan a packet of liquid iv and a plate of pancakes.

"hey. did u get anyone's number this time?"

taesan asked as customary after a party, with jaehyun groaning and shaking his head as usual.

"i saw you talking it up with y/n though"

jaehyun teased and a slight smile appeared on taesan's face. before he could say anything, leehan ran into the room.

"you're talking to y/n? of all people you chose y/n??"

leehan said a little too loudly, causing the other two to clutch their heads and hurriedly shush him for how loud he was being.

"what's wrong with y/n? you know her or something?"

taesan's eyebrows furrowed and jaehyun nodded in agreement.

"nothing's wrong with y/n. but you?? and y/n?? mister fuckboy taesan trying to get in the pants of the nicest person in the world??"

leehan questioned as taesan looked taken aback.

"who said i wanted to get in her pants? and why are you so shocked in the first place?"

leehan sighed and took a fat swig of jaehyun's water, ignoring jaehyun's protests.

"y/n doesn't seem like the type of girl you can fuck around with for fun. she gives off the vibe of looking for a genuine relationship"

leehan explained as jaehyun snatched his water back and chugged the rest.

"well good because i actually like her"

taesan scoffed as jaehyun spat out the water across the kitchen island.

"WHAT."

leehan and jaehyun both turned to taesan with the most incredulous looks in their eyes. taesan looked at them and scoffed.

"is it that hard to believe i can like someone?"

"yes."

"dude you're literally the epitome of an emo fuckboy."

"okay rude. maybe not like her, but i'm interested"

taesan rolled his eyes while the other two collected themselves and laughed.

"you and y/n as a couple would be insane"

leehan cackled as he walked out of the room, jaehyun's own laughs quieting as he cleaned up the water.

"whatever. see you in class tomorrow"

taesan glared at jaehyun, going back to the guest room to grab his stuff, promptly leaving to go to his own apartment.

24/7 like a party ... it's going to go out of control, heartbeat

for the next couple days, taesan miraculously saw you everywhere. sure, he'd seen you around campus once or twice, but now? you were popping up around every corner every second of the day, and taesan was going insane.

"bro why do you keep staring at that fountain? it’s the middle of winter. it’s not even running"

jaehyun complained as he looked over at the fountain and saw absolutely nothing. taesan shook out of his daze and turned back to jaehyun.

"just spacing out"

he shrugged and jaehyun gave him a weird look, continuing whatever he was talking about while taesan stayed dazed.

"is that y/n?"

leehan suddenly said and taesan whipped his head towards the fountain again. but you weren't there.

"holy shit he wants her bad"

jaehyun and leehan started laughing as taesan just groaned and put his head in his hands.

"i've been seeing her around here every day and i swear i've never even seen her here before that party. should've gotten her number"

taesan muttered as he lifted his head to look at the two, who were the ones staring at the fountain this time.

"i think you manifested y/n's appearance"

leehan laughed and jaehyun waved at taesan, motioning him to go over to you.

"go talk to her and get her number loverboy"

he hissed and taesan hesitated. seeing you weren't with friends or anything today, he decided to go over before you left.

it's going to be bad if you keep going like this

"y/n?"

you looked up to see taesan walking towards you, acting all surprised that you were there as if he hadn't seen you there for a whole week straight.

"oh hey, taesan right? good to see you again"

you smiled as taesan came to a stop right in front of you.

"how's the clinic been going for you? i haven't seen you around so i guess we didn't sign up for the same shifts or something?"

taesan asked and your smile dropped a little. you really thought you'd see taesan at the clinic sessions, and not seeing him until now made your unusual encounter all the more nerve racking.

"it's been a lot of fun working with my classmates and meeting the kines majors"

your bright smile came back and taesan couldn't help but smile back at you.

"that's great, they're all really good people. um, well, i was wondering if-"

"Y/N!"

you whipped your head around to see sungho calling your name and waving at you. you smiled and waved back while taesan also waved awkwardly.

"oh hey taesan. y/n and i were about to go shopping around the area. wanna join us?"

sungho invited and taesan shook his head.

"i just came over to say hi real quick. jaehyun and leehan are over there waiting for me anyways"

he gestured towards his friends, and you and sungho both nodded in understanding.

"well, bye taesan"

you reached to give taesan's arm a quick, gentle squeeze as you walked by. sungho smirked at the sight as he gave taesan a pat on the back, unknowingly having ruined taesan's attempt to get your number.

taesan walked like a dejected puppy back to his friends who were eagerly waiting to hear the story by this point.

"i got cockblocked and didn't get her number"

he groaned and buried his face in his hands while the other two looked on and laughed.

"never in my life did i think taesan was a loser until now"

leehan chuckled as he calmed down, jaehyun still dying and fighting for his life while taesan continued to look dejected.

all taesan could think about is what that touch on the arm meant. was it casual? did you already pick up on the fact that he liked you? did you reciprocate? he was completely confused.

"watch, i'm gonna get her number soon"

taesan declared as he got up and started walking to his next class after bidding the two goodbye.

"wanna bet that he isn't gonna get it by the time the week is over"

"bet he is"

"$20?"

"you're on"

is it bad? is it good?

taesan was able to poke his head around the clinic to visit you under the pretense of visiting his other kines major friends.

and every. single. time. you drove taesan crazy with the subtle touches you would give in response to his poor flirting.

at first it started simple with a little squeeze of the hand or arm, but then it escalated to interlocking your fingers together while you had a conversation.

taesan thought it was cute with the way you played with his fingers while he talked, but also? it set his heart on fire and he lost his train of thought the moment he felt you rub your thumb against the palm of his hand.

"um, taesan?"

you questioned in response to his silence, to which taesan shook out of his daze and kept yapping about what kines majors do.

taesan thought he was fumbling bad. he stuttered constantly, ears flushed whenever you gave him one of your light touches, and was visibly shaking when you held his hand. the boy was so worried that he was gonna scare you off just by coming off so awkward.

i don't know what to do

“what the fuck”

riwoo woke up to an obnoxious taesan banging on the door, to which he scrambled to open it as soon as possible.

“what’s wrong?”

riwoo croaked out as he saw taesan’s panicked face.

“i think i’m fumbling y/n”

he breathed out as he walked in and collapsed on the couch, a confused riwoo following behind him after shutting the door.

“what did you do”

riwoo collapsed next to him, grabbing a pillow and shutting his eyes while preparing to listen to taesan’s rant.

“i don’t even know but i’ve been hella nervous around her and stuttering and i still haven’t asked for her number and she’s been all touchy with me and i’m scared of what she thinks of me i’m so confused”

taesan said all at once while riwoo stayed silent to process it all.

“wait so are you really interested in something real with her?”

riwoo opened his eyes and admitted defeat since he couldn’t go back to sleep with a yapping taesan.

taesan’s eyebrows furrowed before nodding slightly.

“well thank goodness because she’s not the type to fuck around. anyways, if she’s been touchy and not dry then i think that means you’re okay no? y/n plays dumb but she’s not naive. if she’s acting like that then she’s probably interested too”

riwoo concluded before thinking for a bit again.

“just start by getting her number. i don’t know why you think it’s so hard after having an entire catalog of girls’ numbers, but start by deleting all those if you want something serious. and be good to her. that girl’s my ride or die”

riwoo yawned as he ushered taesan out the door.

“you really think i can get her number?”

“positive, you fucking loser”

riwoo teased as taesan rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath before walking down to find y/n at the clinic again.

he saw you standing in the doorway preparing to take a patient in for a flu shot. you glanced up and gave taesan a small smile before closing the door for the patient’s privacy.

taesan’s heart was racing a mile a minute as he sat and waited for you to be done in the room. he took a while to calm his heart down and steel up his nerves, but he did over the course of the 20 minutes you were gone.

“taesan? what are you doing here?”

taesan jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, not realizing you had walked the patient out already and stood in front of him.

“i came to say hi, maybe ask if you wanted to get lunch or something?”

taesan tried to be as nonchalant as possible while he said that, but the rosy blush on his cheeks gave him away. you couldn’t help the small smile that spread to the corners of your lips.

“i’d love to! just let me get changed really quick”

you grabbed your tote bag and ran off to the dressing room to change as soon as possible. taesan laughed lightly at how you seemed so excited to go eat after probably 6 hours at the clinic.

“ready?”

taesan stood up the moment he saw you come out and you smiled and nodded.

“i was thinking we could walk to somewhere around campus. you craving anything specific?”

taesan looked at you while you two walked and you thought for a minute before looking up at him.

“i’ve kinda been craving udon”

you admitted and taesan looked at you as if you were the most perfect person in the world. udon? in the middle of winter?? with a beautiful girl??? taesan was practically on cloud 9.

“sounds perfect to me”

taesan smiled and you two walked together down to the little area on campus full of restaurants and little shops. the two of you sat down in a small booth and taesan could barely keep eye contact with you. he thanked god that you decided to sit opposite of him or else you would’ve felt the seat shake from how much he was trembling.

“do you have any classes after this?”

you suddenly asked and taesan shook his head.

“do you?”

you sadly nodded your head.

“i have psych in 2 hours so we can still stay here and talk for a good while”

you smiled as you looked at taesan and he couldn’t help but mirror your smile too. the sweet waitress came back with your guys’ bowls of udon, so the conversation quieted for a while, with some small talk and jokes scattered in between bites.

“thank you for coming to see me and taking me to get lunch”

you said happily as you took the check from the waitress’s hands, smile dropping when you saw that the bill was paid for entirely.

“taesan what the hell? you didn’t have to pay for lunch. i can pay you back”

you hurriedly opened your purse until taesan stopped you and shook his head.

“i asked you to lunch so i’m gonna pay. don’t even worry about it”

he said as he guided you to stand up and walk outside. you had a slight frown on your lips, feeling guilty for not having contributed at all.

“let me pay for lunch next time though, please?”

you pleaded with taesan and he looked at you skeptically before laughing and nodding.

“give me your number so we can plan another lunch date?”

you smirked and raised your eyebrows at that, but put your number in taesan’s phone nonetheless.

“you’re not slick han taesan, i see you”

you laughed and taesan looked away in slight embarrassment before laughing with you. in reality, taesan’s heart was bursting with joy, but he wasn’t about to let you know that he was freaking out inside.

“i’ll walk you to class. it’s on the way to the dorms anyways”

taesan looked at you and said, making you smile at him gratefully.

“at least it’s a short walk. ready to go?”

you snaked your arm around taesan’s, holding it close while you two walked back to campus.

“i had a lot of fun talking to you today. i’ve been wondering if you were ever gonna reach out after we talked at my party”

you admitted as you two walked back to school. taesan scoffed in an attempt to hide how happy he was that you reciprocated.

“i had a lot of fun talking to you then too. i wanted to talk to you more but i didn’t have your number”

taesan said as he reached a hand up to cover the blush on his neck. it didn’t go unnoticed by you but you didn’t mention it.

“well you do now. i gotta go but text me whenever so we can go on a longer date next time taesan”

you gave taesan’s arm one final squeeze with a sweet smile before disappearing into the lecture room, slowly disappearing from taesan’s line of sight.

the moment taesan couldn’t see you anymore, he started smiling so widely he thought his cheeks were gonna stretch out.

“bro she’s so sweet and so cute and i finally got her number”

taesan yapped all about you to jaehyun and leehan, who were less than happy to listen but also happy for you. they loved you like a sister and were happy it was taesan of all people who liked you enough to change his fuckboy ways.

however, things usually happen in more ways than one, don’t they? as they say, all’s fair in love and war.

blame it on stupid cupid

“chaer?”

you woke up on the night of your party and rubbed your eyes to find your roommate basically trembling with excitement to hear the story of you and taesan.

“girl you gotta tell me everything that happened between you guys”

chaeryeong jumped onto your bed and waited eagerly to hear the story.

“nothing even happened. he’s just really sweet and wanted to get to know me a little. was too drunk to get my number though”

you said simply, hoping that chaeryeong wouldn’t question it, but she did.

“what do you mean he didn’t get your number? you’re SO FINE i would’ve asked immediately”

she complained and you shrugged. all of a sudden she shot up, startling you in the process.

“fuck no y/n, this is operation ‘get you with taesan’ time”

chaeryeong said and you groaned, not bothering to hide your amused smile.

“lay it on me. what’s your amazing plan chaer?”

“GIRL OKAY so you need to walk by these places every day. taesan passes by them pretty often. i see him all the time walking to class so make HIM come to YOU”

she huffed proudly after she finished her speech and you clapped sarcastically.

“i can try. we also have clinic together so maybe he can ask for my number then too”

“also make sure to touch his shoulder or something. guys are like, from the victorian era. they’ll take ANYTHING as a sign so long as you give it to them”

you weren’t that confident taesan was even interested in you like that, but seeing the way he looked for you every time you passed by the fountain made you wanna keep teasing him by simply passing by.

the moment he actually came up to you was the moment you knew you got him. and so, the actual mastermind behind you and taesan progressing was none other than lee chaeryeong.

girl you got me crazy, blame it on stupid cupid

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober Masterlist 2024

Welcome to Kinktober everyone! This is the list and descriptions of all the Halloween fics I have managed to write involving either Wanda, Nat and, in some chapters, even both of them :)

All chapters include 18+ smut and something relating to the spooky season so I hope you all enjoy.

Happy Halloween everyone! <3

 All of these fics contain 18+ smut (so MDNI) and all have specific warnings/tags at the start of each so please read these carefully before reading. Some of these one shots contain dark themes so please consider the warnings/tags specified. 

1) Madness -Admiring your girlfriend tied up, blindfolded and waiting eagerly for you to play with the new nipple clamps adorning her body, has only one thing filling your mind: how to drive her mad with your touch, how to engrave the feeling of your tantalising lips, teasing fingers and torturous tongue in her mind for weeks. (Dom Reader X Sub Wanda)

Madness G!P Reader Version

2) Pumpkin Carving: Carving a pumpkin with your girlfriend was supposed to be a fun and easy task, well, that was until you got distracted by the sight of her toned arms and her seductive hands, unable to stop your thoughts from remembering how her fingers felt deep inside you. (Dom Natasha X Sub Reader) 

3) Trick Or Treat: Knocking on your neighbours door, you were hoping to receive a ‘treat’ from the older woman before her husband and children came back from their trick or treating trip. (Milf Wanda X Reader) 

4) What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie?: Whilst on the phone to your girlfriend, the conversation starts off innocently with favourite horror films before escalating down a more sinful path. You tell her how you wish she could be here with you, unaware of the small camera she had hidden in your room, watching as she guides you slide your hands under your panties. (Dark Natasha X Reader) 

5) The Devil Made Me Do It: After an unusual dream and the darkhold corrupting her mind, Wanda can’t help but look over at your form, soundly asleep, and wanting to make that dream a reality. (Dark Wanda X Reader) 

6) I Promise I Won’t Bite: Ending up in the Maximoff-Romanoff Mansion, you can’t help but be nervous in the presence of both powerful women. Wanda assures you that you had nothing to fear, that she wouldn’t bite, but the same couldn’t be said for her wife, Natasha, who’s smirk showed off her subtle fangs, desire evident in her lustful gaze. (Vampire WandaNat X Reader) 

7) One Day A Year: A girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girl can say anything about it. Whilst at a party with your two girlfriends, dressed up in your sinful costumes, the three of you find yourself on the sofa with a blanket over you laps, the two women intending to take advantage of the privacy and how drunk everyone else was, too distracted to notice how your cheeks flushed with arousal. (WandaNat X Reader) 

I have not finished writing all of these so I’m not sure what the upload structure will be like. My plan is to post the first fic on Friday and hopefully write the rest of them so I have them all finished by Halloween! (If not I will still write them and just post them as soon as they’re written) 

Let me know which chapters you’re most looking forward to! I hope you all enjoy <3 

[the-offside-rule]

Franco Colapinto (Williams) - Guilty As Sin?

Requested: no

Swift Series

Warnings: HAVE YOU HEARD THIS SONG? OFC THERE IS

Y/n's pants and gasps filled the room as her fingers tangled in Franco's messy locks,his lips leaving trails of lilac marks, painting her delicate skin like watercolours. Her back arched up off the bed as his dark eyes gazed up at her, his fingers trailing down her sides. "Franco-" She whimpered, his teasing had become too much to bear now. "Yes, cariño." He hummed, his teeth now biting her at the lace trim of her panties. "I- I-"

Beep...Beep...Beep

Y/n jolted awake, the remnants of her dream still vivid in her mind. Her heart was pounding, and her face felt warm. She blinked, trying to shake off the lingering images; Franco, her former teammate, tangled with her under her bedsheets. She buried her face in her pillow, groaning. Why Franco? Why now? They had been teammates up until this weekend, sure, they had always gotten along well. But this dream... this stupid dream was different. It had been warm, sweet, and made her feel things she didn't know she even felt for him

Getting up, she shook her head and quickly got dressed in her Red Bull reserve driver uniform. Today, she had an FP1 session to focus on. She couldn't let a silly dream distract her. She smiled walking into the paddock, waving to the photographers and passers by. Yet, as she spotted Franco just a few feet away, talking animatedly with some mechanics, she found that his laugh floated over to her, clear and cheerful, and Y/n felt her face heat up again.

"Nope, nope, nope." She thought, turning sharply on her heel and walking in the opposite direction. She decided to avoid him, at least until her face stopped feeling like it was on fire. But as the day went on, her new behavior did not go unnoticed. Franco seemed puzzled every time she darted away whenever he came near. And soon enough, someone else picked up on the awkward energy. Liam sidled up next to her as she stood by the Red Bull pit wall, trying to focus on the FP1 prep.

"You okay, mate?" Y/n asked, flicking through the physical copy of her briefing that she asked for that morning. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. What’s going on with you and Franco?” He asked, an amused grin tugging at his lips. “Nothing!” Y/n replied too quickly, her collection of pages nearly falling as she jolted from the unexpected question. “Why would you think there’s something going on?” Liam raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see him? Or the fact that you’ve practically sprinted away from him three times already today?”

Y/n glared at him, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “It’s... it’s nothing. Just… had a weird dream, that’s all.” His eyebrow arched. “A weird dream?” Liam repeated, his grin widening. “Oh, this I’ve got to hear.” Y/n crossed her arms, biting her lip, debating whether to confide in him or not. Liam was known for his teasing, and she wasn’t sure she could handle it. But he was also persistent, and he would never let it go if she didn’t give him something. “Fine.” She muttered. “I had a dream about Franco, okay? It was just… it was just a dream, but now I feel weird around him.” Liam’s eyes lit up with mischief. “A dream about Franco, huh? Was it... romantic?” He nudged her, wiggling his eyebrows.

Y/n shot him a glare, her cheeks heating up. “Liam!” He laughed. “Come on, you can’t just drop that and not expect me to ask! So what happened in the dream?” Y/n sighed, exasperated. “It doesn’t matter! I’m just embarrassed, and now I can’t even look at him without thinking about it.” Liam chuckled. “Oh, this is gold. I’m never going to let you live this down, Y/n.” He laughed, having to steady himself by leaning on her shoulder. “Thanks a lot.” She grumbled, turning to leave before he could tease her any further. But as she spun around, she collided straight into a solid chest.

Franco

Her heart leapt into her throat as she stumbled back, her face turning scarlet. “Oh, sorry!” She stammered, trying to avoid his gaze..He smiled, a little confused but still friendly. “Hey, Y/n. I was actually looking for you. Do you want to grab some breakfast together?” Her brain screamed for an excuse, anything to avoid sitting across from him with the memory of that dream. “Uh, I… I have to get ready for practise.” She blurted out. Franco gave her a knowing smile. “FP1 doesn’t start for another two hours. Come on, just a coffee?” Y/n hesitated, but before she could come up with another excuse, Franco gently took her hand. “Come on." He insisted, his grip firm but kind. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. Reluctantly, she let herself be led toward the Williams hospitality area. Franco chatted casually, oblivious to the chaos in her head, and she couldn’t help but sneak glances at his profile. His calm demeanor only made her cheeks burn more. As they reached the hospitality area, Franco ordered two coffees, handing one to her with a smile. “You’ve been avoiding me." He said lightly, his tone more curious than accusatory. Y/n quickly shook her head, nearly spilling her coffee. “No, no, I’ve just been… busy.” Franco tilted his head, still smiling but looking like he didn’t quite believe her. “If you say so.”

Across the way, Liam leaned against a wall, watching them with a satisfied grin. He gave Y/n a cheeky thumbs-up, and she shot him a death glare over the rim of her coffee cup. She was blushing furiously, but Franco seemed none the wiser, still chatting away about their plans for the weekend. Liam couldn’t help but laugh, enjoying every second of Y/n’s flustered state. This was too good to pass up. As Franco continued to talk, Y/n’s eyes flicked to Liam one last time, promising a revenge of her own someday. But for now, all she could do was sit, blush, and hope Franco never found out what had caused all this in the first place.