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endless-ineffabilities · 1 month ago

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chemical override (11)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: after a lil bit of a break, chem ov has returned! More of the drama, the yearning, and the tension is served here, for your pleasure <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Following the reader's unfortunate accident, tensions run high between the two men vying for her heart. The cast get together to celebrate Ewan's birthday, and things go exactly as you would expect. And then some.

Ewan has never been the most active in the cast group chat. It does amuse him some, especially when Tom and Rhys get into those selfie battles of theirs, when all throughout the day, the chat would be flooded with deliberately posed pictures of the two pulling the most ridiculous faces in increasingly absurd locations.

It's a place for playful jabs, catching up, sharing updates. Light banter all around.

Which is why Ewan's heart nearly jumped out of his chest when the latest message came. He had been on location in LA, running through the script for his film when he received the notification. He’d ignored it at first, never one to reply promptly anyway. But a flicker of instinct – or maybe he felt it, felt you – made him check.

Phia informed the group that you had an accident.

“... and it was during stunt training, but she’s fine and is in the hospital now…”

Everyone was encouraged to visit if they could or send their well wishes.

Ewan’s mind reeled. Fine? What the hell does that mean? Fine could be a scratch or it could be… Fuck.

He read the message over and over until they blurred together. He knew he was willing the words to change like some idiot. You had to be okay. Nothing bad could happen to you.

Phia had just casually dropped the bombshell. She might as well have said, “Hey, how is everyone, good? Oh, by the way, she almost died but it’s cool.”

Ewan knew none of it was Phia’s fault, but that didn’t stop him from feeling an overwhelming irritation. What did ‘fine’ even mean? If he threw his phone across the room like he wanted, would that be fine?

He felt nauseous with worry as he dialled whoever he could – anyone who might give him more than just that damn word. Time went by torturously slowly, the only thing repeating in his head was the image of you – broken, unconscious, or worse – until Phia finally confirmed that it wasn’t life-threatening.

He had to calm down, according to her. You are being taken care of, and are set to make a swift recovery.

But even then, it wasn’t enough.

Because it was you.

“Love… you’re awake.”

Sitting beside your hospital bed, Ewan gets a good look at you – finally awake but still too fragile for his liking. He hadn’t slept properly, and he feels like a whole mess.

You blink slowly, your eyes meeting his. “Ewan?”

He feels like breathing again after being underwater for far too long. He can’t help the awkward smile that tugs at his lips. “Hey, darling. You look like you just fought a dragon.”

You start to laugh, but it quickly turns into a wince, and you relax back into the pillow. “Oh, jeez, don’t make me laugh. My head hurts.”

He quickly reaches for the glass of water on your bedside table and offers it to you. “Sorry, my bad. I’ll be my usual, stoic, boring self then.”

“You’re never boring, Mitchell.” You roll your eyes, before taking a sip.

He can’t help but watch you closely, as if you might vanish if he looks away. “Phia told the whole cast about your accident in the group chat. Did you know that?” he said, trying to keep things light.

“Oh great,” you mumble. “Did Rhys send one of his motivational selfies?”

“Well,” Ewan smiles. “He did. Said something about you ‘getting back in the saddle’ while he posed with a horse. It was inspirational, honestly.”

Ewan hadn’t felt anything when he saw that, consumed with thoughts of you, but now he feels free to let amusement wash over him. Now that he’s with you.

You roll your eyes again, softly smiling. “Of course he did. Well, I appreciate it.”

You are okay, which means Ewan is okay.

He knows just how in love he is with you. Even though you’d broken things off for his sake, even though the boundaries had blurred. Then friends with benefits. No strings. Except those strings had tightened around both of you, slowly suffocating the pretense until it collapsed. And now here you both were – again. With the issue of his PR looming like a goddamn stormcloud, and there is no running from it.

He clears his throat. “You scared the hell out of me, you know?”

Your expression softens as you look at him. “I’m sorry. But I’m okay, really.”

He sighs, running a hand through his unruly dark blonde hair. “I didn’t know what I’d find when I got here. And Phia, bless her, has a knack for delivering life-altering news like she’s talking about what she had for breakfast.”

“She means well.” You smile, shaking your head.

“Yeah, darling, but next time, let’s just skip the part where you end up in a hospital bed, okay?” He reaches for your hand, his voice wavering slightly. He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

“Deal.” You give his hand a playful shake, but your tone is sincere.

Ewan glances down, his jaw tightening. He wants to ask if things can finally go back to the way they were – to you being his. He’s already yours anyway.

But instead, he swallows hard and forces a lighthearted tone. “You know, if I had been there to teach you how to ride the Buck, then this never would have happened.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really, Mitchell? I’m pretty sure you almost got thrown off once.”

Ewan scoffs, giving you his best offended look. “Almost doesn’t count, darling. I’ve practically mastered it now. I do ride the biggest and fiercest dragon in the realm, remember?”

“I said don’t make me laugh,” you say, giving him a pointed look.

He leans forward, his smirk widening. “I’m just saying. I could’ve saved you from all the stale hospital food. I mean – ” There’s a familiar flicker in his expression. With his head tilted downward, he looks at you through his eyelashes. “ – I have seen you ride, and you’ve got skill, but you do need my help.”

Your mouth falls open at his audacity. “Mitchell! When have you been this smug?”

“Only you have seen the full range of my talents,” he teased.

“Oh really?” you counter. “I did hit my head, so maybe I forgot all about them.”

“Recover quick, and I can jog your memory.”

He can feel the pull – he’d always felt it – and the familiar ache creeps back into his chest, stronger than ever. He wants to reach for you and close the gap. But instead, he buries it beneath a smirk.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good. I’ll even throw in a few tricks. You know, to keep things interesting.”

“You said it, Mitchell,” you snort softly.

His gaze lingers on you, and the playful banter stalls, replaced by something heavier. And before he can stop himself, he leans close, hovering over you.

“I’m glad you’re okay, darling,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You don’t respond, but you don’t need to. The way you look at him, the way your eyes soften, says enough. He hesitates for just a moment, his hand brushing gently against yours before he leans in further.

Gently, he presses his lips to your forehead, the touch light and lingering. When he pulls back, his face is close to yours, his gaze searching as if he is waiting for something. An answer. A sign. Anything to tell him where this was going.

There is something in your expression that seems like the same yearning that he has been unable to fight for so long.

“I’ll be here,” he whispers, the heavy significance of the words settling. “Whenever you need me.”

It’s your third morning at the hospital, when Phia, Liv and Tom burst into your room like a gust of fresh air, their loud voices echoing out in the hall.

Phia’s holding an extravagant bouquet of flowers – so big it practically obscures her face – while Liv balances a tray of coffees, her smile bright and warm. Tom walks in last with a massive balloon arrangement, the centre one reading GET WELL SOON in neon colours.

“Look who’s alive and kicking!” Tom announces, waving the balloons around. “For a while there, we thought Alyna was going to have to be recast!”

Liv elbows him sharply in the ribs, then sets the coffees down on your bedside. “Tom, honestly.”

You can’t help the grin that creeps onto your face. “Yeah, right. As if there could ever be a better Alyna.”

Ewan sits by your bed, arms crossed, watching the group with quiet amusement. But the second Phia notices him, she arches a brow and points at him with a no-nonsense look. “Mitchell. Go home. Shower. Sleep. You look like death cooked over.”

Ewan’s brow furrows, and he opens his mouth to protest, but Phia cuts him off with a stern glare. “I’m not asking. I’m telling.”

He glances down at you, his expression conflicted, but you give him a small, tired nod. “You probably should. You’ve been here the whole time.”

Ewan hesitates, but then sighs, resigned. “Alright. But I’ll be back soon, darling.”

Phia nods, pleased. “Good. And don’t come back until you’ve slept at least eight hours… darling.”

Ewan shoots her a mock glare, then leans down toward you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “See you in a few hours,” he murmurs softly, his voice just for you.

You nod, watching as he leaves the room, your heart sinking just a little. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, Phia turns to you with a smirk. “He’s so whipped.”

Your cheeks flush instantly. “He’s just… worried.”

“Worried?” Tom scoffs, dropping into a chair beside Phia. “Right. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

“Please,” Liv chimes in, smiling knowingly. “He’s been practically glued to your side since you woke up.”

You shift uncomfortably, trying to deflect. “Yeah, well, after everything, we’re just… friends.”

Phia arches a brow. “Friends? You guys stopped being just friends since the age of the fucking dinosaurs, doll.”

You open your mouth to argue, but Liv interrupts, sliding you a cup of water from the tray. “Alright, we’ll stop harassing you – for now. Let’s talk birthday plans instead.”

At the mention of birthdays, guilt twists in your stomach. Ewan’s birthday had been in March, just a few weeks ago. You had known, but with the mess of the overall situation, it had slipped by.

“I completely forgot his birthday,” you murmur, the guilt weighing heavy. “I should’ve done something.”

Liv squeezes your hand gently. “You’ve had a lot on your plate. I’m sure he understands.”

Tom leans forward with a grin. “That’s why we’ve got a plan to make up for it. Joint birthday bash.”

Phia nods, her eyes twinkling. “For Ewan, Fabien, and Freddie. We’re thinking a trip to Spain, some villa, maybe a pool party, lots of sunshine. It’ll be a proper holiday for everyone.”

“Wait, what?” You blink, surprised by the sudden reveal of such an elaborate plan.

Liv grins. “Yeah. We’ve already started organising it. It’ll be in mid April, just after you’re up and moving again. A real joint celebration for the three of them.”

Tom gestures grandly. “Fabien’s excited. Lord Freddie’s thrilled to be celebrated, you know how he is. Ewan – well, he doesn’t know yet, cause all he thinks about is you.”

The idea sounds incredible – a break in Spain with the cast, a chance to relax and celebrate together. Especially after your on-set slipup. But the more they talk, the more conflicted you feel. Being in the same place with both Ewan and Matty… would be something indeed.

Ewan is still to be in a carefully curated PR relationship, all for the sake of his movie. You dislike it, though you understand it, that relentless Hollywood game of optics. But the thought of spending time with him at a secluded villa in Spain – away from cameras, prying eyes, and staged appearances – sends your heart racing. You know Ewan. He’d see it as an opportunity. A chance to be close to you, to slip back into old habits, to erase the distance that the PR relationship has forced between you.

There would be no cameras, no script to follow – just the two of you in the same space, and you already know what that would lead to.

The memory of the masquerade ball is still fresh in your mind. That one night, where the lines had blurred so easily. You’d been wrapped in the heat of his arms, the press of his body against yours, the intoxicating thrill of being with him without anyone knowing.

And then there is Matty. Sweet Matty who is too charming for his own good. You had started seeing him casually, trying to convince yourself you could make it work, and you can’t deny the pull he has on you. How easy it all could be. Being with him feels like standing with the warm embrace of sunshine.

You love Ewan. You want Matty. Thousands of girls would scramble to be in your position – the one who captured the boys’ affections. You, the one lying there in a hospital gown, with a broken ankle and head gauze.

So glamorous. So desirable.

Tom’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. “So, Spain. Swimming, sunbathing, a giant villa – what do you think?”

You blink, catching up to the conversation. “I think… I’m in.”

Phia grins widely. “Good. Ewan’ll be thrilled you’re coming.”

Liv smiles. “We thought the party could be a way for everyone to unwind, you included. No pressure.”

No pressure. But you know there is pressure – at least, there is for you. You’ve been avoiding it, dancing around the feelings you can’t admit to yourself, let alone to Ewan. And Matty – kind, supportive Matty, who doesn’t deserve to be caught up in your mess.

“Yeah, no pressure,” you say softly, but the words feel hollow.

Phia stands up suddenly, clapping her hands together. “Alright, enough of this emotional nonsense. Let’s talk logistics – birthday cake! We’re doing three layers, one for each of the boys.”

Tom dryly says, “I offered to get Martha to bake it, but we decided against it because her specialty is burnt-charcoal waffles.”

Phia shoots him a deadpan look. “They were practically concrete. Love her though!”

Liv laughs, shaking her head. “We’ll leave the cake to the professionals, thanks.”

As the conversation shifts to party details and farfetched ideas, your mind drifts. You try to stay focused, but your thoughts keep circling back to the same place – Spain, the party, Ewan and Matty. The idea of being around them for days, in a relaxed holiday setting, feels both exciting and terrifying.

You know it’s not just a party. It’s a ticking time bomb.

Ewan’s footsteps echo in the sterile hospital hallway, his grip tight on the bouquet he’s brought for you – your favourite flowers, carefully chosen. As per Phia’s orders, he had gone home and slept a good 10 hours, being more exhausted than he must have realised. The day after, going back to you was the only thing that came to mind, and he was out the door in no time.

As he rounds the corner toward your room, his steps falter at the sight of someone else approaching.

Matt.

His tall frame is impossible to miss. He saunters down the hall from the opposite direction, holding a similar bouquet in one hand and a gift bag in the other. Ewan feels the tension twisting in his stomach as Matt’s eyes meet his across the corridor.

For a moment, the hallway falls into an eerie silence, the air thick with an unspoken challenge. Neither of them says a word as they approach the door to your room at almost the same time, both armed with flowers, both here for you.

“Ewan,” Matt greets first, his voice low, almost amused.

Ewan nods, keeping his expression neutral. “Matt.”

Ewan’s eyes flick to the flowers in Matt’s hand, and a bitter taste rises in his throat. Matt isn’t just another visitor, he’s the guy who’s been with you while Ewan is forced to sit on the sidelines.

“You’re here again,” Matt comments, breaking the silence. “Not that I’m surprised.”

Ewan raises an eyebrow. “And why wouldn’t I be? She needs support.”

Matt’s eyes narrow slightly, and his smile is tight. “I get that. But I’m here now too. She’s got plenty of support.”

Ewan feels a flicker of annoyance, his grip tightening on the bouquet. “You think that’s all it is? Just showing up with flowers and pretending you know what she needs?”

Matt’s jaw clenches, but he keeps his cool. He knows better than to cause a scene in the middle of a public hallway. “And you think you’re the only one who cares about her? The only one who knows her? She and I – we’ve been spending plenty of time together. I’ve got some idea of what she needs.”

The possessiveness in Matt’s tone is unmistakable, and it sets Ewan on edge. He steps closer, his eyes locked on Matt’s. “You’ve only been dating her for a few weeks, mate. But we’ve been through things that you couldn’t even begin to understand.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about your history. But let’s be real – if you were so good for her, why’d she end things with you? Why’s she with me now?”

Ewan feels a sharp pang at the reminder, but he doesn’t back down. “If you think things are over between me and her, then you’re mistaken. It will never be over. Maybe you’re a convenience. Someone for the moment.”

Matt takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. “A convenience? Right. I don’t see you making any moves to change the situation. You’ve been content to sit back and watch while I’ve been with her. Maybe you’re the one who’s convenient, yeah?”

Ewan’s jaw tightens, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows Matt’s right, in a way – he’s been stuck, unable to break free from the PR relationship that’s kept him and you apart. But that doesn’t make what Matt’s saying any easier to swallow.

“The way I see it, you’re just a distraction,” Ewan says, his voice sharp, laced with bitterness, “a way for her to forget what she really wants.”

Matt’s eyes flash with anger now, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “And what she really wants is you, is that it? Tell me, Ewan, if you’re so sure she’s still in love with you, why hasn’t she said anything? Why hasn’t she kicked me to the curb and come running back?”

The words hit harder than Ewan expects, and for a moment, he falters. He knows you still love him – he can see it in the way you look at him, the way you can never quite let go. But Matt’s right. You haven’t made a choice. And now here they are, two men standing in a hallway, both fighting for something that feels just out of reach.

Ewan steps even closer. “You think just because you’re in the picture now, I’m going to step aside and let you have her? Not a fucking chance, mate.”

Matt takes a deep breath in an attempt to collect himself. It’s clear to him that Ewan isn’t going to loosen up easily. Especially not when he’s being provoked. “I’m not asking you to step aside. But unless she tells me otherwise, I’ll keep showing up. So maybe you should get used to that.”

Ewan looks away, his voice lowering. “We… both… care about her. I’m not denying that. But don’t fool yourself. She hasn’t made her choice yet.”

“Maybe she hasn’t.” Matt holds his gaze. “But I’m here, and I’m willing to wait. Are you?”

The hallway feels suffocating, the weight of their words heavy in the air. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ewan speaks again, his voice softer but no less intense.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Matt nods once. “Neither am I.”

They stand there in silence for a moment, the unspoken agreement settling between them. It’s a temporary truce, but they both know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Finally, they turn toward your room, the door looming in front of them like a gateway to another battle. Ewan’s heart pounds as he pushes the door open, stepping inside, with Matt close behind.

You’re awake, sitting up slightly in bed, looking both surprised and nervous as you see the two of them enter together.

“Well, this is… unexpected,” you say, your voice tinged with humour as your eyes dart between the two men.

“Hey,” Matt says with an easy smile, walking over to place his flowers on the table by your bed. “Thought I’d stop by, check in on you.”

Ewan follows suit, setting his bouquet down next to Matt’s, though his gaze stays fixed on you. “And I came back, as promised.”

“Funny that you show up at the same time.” You glance between them, your brow raising.

Matt chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, we didn’t exactly plan it.”

Ewan forces a smile, trying to keep things light. “Just making sure you’re not causing any more trouble, darling.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I’m definitely the troublemaker here.”

Ewan sinks into the chair by your bed while Matt leans against the windowsill, arms crossed. For a brief moment, it almost feels normal. Almost.

“Phia mentioned Spain,” Matt says after a beat, his voice casual, but there’s an edge to his tone. “The birthday trip.”

You nod eagerly. “The joint birthday for the lads.” Your eyes flicker to Ewan. “I feel terrible for missing your birthday last month.”

Ewan shakes his head, his expression softening. “You had a lot going on. Don’t worry about it.”

The casual mention of his birthday tugs at your heartstrings. You hadn’t forgotten exactly, but things had been so complicated. Now, though, guilt gnaws at you.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you say sincerely, looking at Ewan, and the way his eyes hold yours makes your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, the villa should be fun,” Matt chimes in, but there’s something sharp in his tone. “But we have to be sure you’re in tip top shape first, love.”

“I’ll be the one in the bikini and a leg cast,” you joke.

The conversation drifts into lighter topics – memories of on-set pranks, silly cast antics – but there’s an underlying tension, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. It’s almost like watching a film in slow motion, each moment dragging longer than it should, with none of you willing to say what you’re really thinking.

After a while, Ewan checks his phone, his brows knitting together. He glances at you, a reluctant sigh escaping his lips. “Darling, I need to head out. I’ve got a meeting with my manager to sort out the filming schedule.”

You nod in understanding. “You did leave LA pretty quickly. I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

Ewan’s gaze softens. “It’s not trouble,” he says quietly. “Not when it’s for you.”

As he walks to the door, he pauses and looks back at you, his expression unreadable. He hesitates, then takes a few steps back toward the bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. The gesture is tender, and it leaves a warmth in its wake that lingers long after he’s gone.

“Rest up, darling,” he murmurs before turning to leave.

You’re left with Matt, the silence between you more comfortable and less tense than it was with Ewan. He moves from his spot by the window and sits down in the chair Ewan just vacated. He offers you a gentle smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “He cares about you a lot, you know,” he says.

“I know,” you reply softly.

Matt smirks, his cheekiness resurfacing. “Almost as much as I do.”

The atmosphere eases after that, Matt joking about the cast’s upcoming trip to Spain, trying to make you laugh. After a while, your body begins to give in to exhaustion, your eyes growing heavy. He notices and encourages you to rest, and you doze off before long, the soft hum of his voice lulling you to sleep.

But just as you slip into that hazy space between wakefulness and dreaming, you hear Matt’s voice again, quieter now, like he’s talking to himself. Or maybe to you, thinking you’re already asleep.

“I know you still love him,” he says softly, the words almost painful to hear. “I can see it every time you look at him. It’s obvious.”

Your heart tightens in your chest, but you keep your breathing steady, pretending to stay asleep.

“I don’t blame you,” Matt continues, his voice rough with emotion. “He’s good for you, isn’t he? You’ve got history. I knew what I was getting into when we started this… whatever this is. But I can’t help it. I see myself falling in love with you, and it terrifies me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your eyes burn behind your closed lids. You want to say something, anything, but you don’t. You lie there, frozen, letting Matty’s confession hang in the air between you.

“You don’t have to choose me,” Matt whispers, almost as if he’s resigned to his fate. “But I… I certainly wouldn’t mind it if you do, love.” He laughs bitterly at the end, then turns serious once more. “We could… we could be happy.”

His voice cracks slightly, and it takes everything in you not to react. You hadn’t realised just how much this meant to him, how deeply he felt. He always seemed so easygoing, so casual, and now you see that there was more beneath the surface. So much more.

You lie still, pretending to sleep, as Matt gently brushes a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll be here, if you want me,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.

You chose yourself, selfish as it might have been, and you would make the same decision again if given the chance. You needed to do that; you owed it to yourself. You also sought companionship and a shot at happiness with him. But that hadn’t been final.

No matter who it will be in the end, someone’s heart is going to break.

Your ankle is forgotten, your concussion a trifling thing.

Because the weight of that choice is a much heavier burden to bear.

The villa in Spain is like something out of a dream, nestled in the rolling hills of Mallorca. Its white stone walls gleam against the deep blue backdrop of the Mediterranean, the ocean stretching endlessly in the distance. The courtyard is lined with blooming florals and tall cypress trees. It’s the kind of place that makes you forget about the rest of the world, even if just for a moment, and let go of everything that’s complicated and heavy.

But not for Ewan, who sits alert under the shade of a large patio umbrella by the pool, clad in only his navy blue swim trunks. His sunglasses are perched on his nose, as he pretends to read a script – his attention is elsewhere.

They track you, where you’re surrounded by the girls, all of them fussing over you like a flock of mother hens. Your fracture boot is propped up on the sun chair, crutches leaning nearby.

Ewan smiles to himself when you laugh at something Liv says, your face lighting up completely. He's relieved that you’re able to relax after everything. But underneath that relief is something else – something that coils even tighter every time he glances at Matt nearby.

Matt’s never far, either. Ewan notices it. Of course, he notices. How could he not? The way Matt hovers just on the edge of the group, never too close to seem overbearing but always there. It’s the same thing Ewan’s doing, and it’s infuriating because he knows exactly what it means.

Ewan watches as a shirtless Matt hands you a cold drink, his hand brushing yours for a second longer than necessary. You look up, smile gratefully at him, and Ewan feels the sharp sting of it, like a jab to the ribs. He clenches his jaw and forces himself to look away, his grip tightening on the already tattered script in his hands.

“Mitchell, my boy,” Freddie says, plopping down in the chair beside him. “You’ve clearly got a thousand-yard stare going on underneath those shades. You alright?”

Ewan shrugs, trying to play it off. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

Freddie is unconvinced, but he doesn’t push. “It’s our celebration in paradise, mate. You should think about getting a drink in you. Pretend to have fun before Tom ropes us all into some ridiculous pool game.”

Ewan huffs a laugh, grateful for the distraction, but it’s short-lived. His eyes drift back to you, watching as Phia ties a sun hat around your head, joking about protecting ‘the merchandise,’ while Liv adjusts the chair to make sure you’re comfortable. You’re surrounded by care, by laughter, and yet… Ewan can’t shake the need to be near you. To be the one making sure you’re alright.

He hates the way Matt looks at you, like he’s got some claim, like he knows what’s best for you. He doesn’t know you. Not like Ewan does. He hasn’t been through the heartbreak, the sleepless nights, the mess of trying to hold it together when everything was falling apart. He hasn’t watched you fight through everything, hasn’t seen the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.

Matt is there, sure, but Ewan has been there.

He wants to go over, tell the girls to give you some space, be the one to take care of you himself. But he doesn’t. Not with Matt there, standing just close enough to remind him that you’re not his to take care of. Not anymore.

“Careful, mate,” Fabien materialises from the side, a drink in hand. “You keep looking at her like that, and it’s gonna get messy.”

“It’s already messy,” Ewan replies, clicking his tongue. He shifts in his seat, trying to focus on the script in front of him, but it’s pointless. He watches as Matt crouches down beside you, leaning in to say something quietly. You laugh, and the sound hits like a white-hot surge to his veins – an instinctual, possessive reaction he can’t suppress.

Ewan doesn’t want to cause a scene. It’s a holiday, after all – everyone’s in good spirits, and you finally look like you’re getting some much-needed rest.

But before he even realises it, he’s already halfway across the courtyard, his steps brisk and determined.

“Hey,” Ewan says when he reaches you, his tone light, almost forced. “Mind if I join?”

Matt straightens, settling in the chair next to you. “Well, look who finally decided to come over. Thought you were just going to lurk all day.”

You shift in your chair, adjusting your fracture boot, letting Ewan sit next to your outstretched legs. “I’m fine, by the way. If that’s what this is about.”

The girls are now watching intently in their respective sun chairs, pretending to sip their drinks but clearly enjoying the show. You’re caught between rolling your eyes and laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Ewan casts a quick glance at your ankle boot, the tenderness in his gaze flickering just for a moment before he locks eyes with Matt again. “I’m just making sure you’re not overwhelming her. She might need her space,” he says.

Matt raises an eyebrow, his casual posture not matching the edge in his voice. “Space? Mate, that’s rich coming from the guy who’s crowding her chair right now.”

Phia snorts into her drink, earning a stern look from Liv, but it’s too late. The tension is starting to draw a crowd, and even Fabien and Freddie are craning their necks to watch. Freddie whispers something to Fabien, who laughs, clearly entertained.

Instead of rising to the bait, Ewan exhales sharply and forces a smile. “Just making sure my… friend is comfortable.”

Liv arches an eyebrow. “My god, friend, is it? Please don’t tell me I’m your friend too.”

Emma freely chortles at Liv’s remark, while Phia doubles over in glee.

You interject with a sigh, waving your hands between them. “Okay, enough. I love a good ego battle as much as the next girl, but seriously – this is supposed to be a holiday. Can we not do this?”

“Honestly, you two,” Phia says, “I thought I already made it clear – she’s my girl.”

The tension cracks as the group erupts into laughter, and even Ewan and Matt can’t help but smile.

“Alright, alright,” Ewan mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Truce. For now.”

Matt smirks, extending a hand mockingly toward Ewan, who rolls his eyes but shakes it briefly before turning his attention back to you. His gaze softens as he catches your eye. “Just… don’t overdo it, yeah?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling. “I’m the one in a boot. Trust me, I’m not going anywhere fast.”

Emma’s enjoying the scene, calmly sipping on their negroni sbagliato. “Honestly, with the way things are unfolding, this drama could end up being better than the show.”

Before anyone can throw in another comment, Ewan’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his trunks. His expression darkens briefly when he glances at the screen. It’s his manager, but she knows not to disturb him on holiday unless it’s urgent. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be right back.” He catches your eye for a brief moment before stepping away.

The world of Hollywood is no stranger to scandal, but this one is poised to shake the industry to its core.

Bruce Haversham, the powerful executive behind some of the biggest film projects in recent decades, had been untouchable at the very top of the mountain. Until now.

The news broke late in the afternoon, first as a whisper across social media before exploding into full-blown coverage on every major network. Accusations of sexual harassment and assault came pouring in, one after the other, each more damning than the last.

By the time the story hit the major outlets, it was clear that Bruce Haversham’s reign was over.

In New York, where he had been arrested, footage of him being escorted from his apartment in handcuffs circulated widely. The headlines were merciless: Hollywood Titan Falls, The End of Bruce Haversham’s Empire, A Predator Unmasked.

For Ewan, this is more than just a story on the evening news. It’s personal.

It was Bruce who masterminded the PR relationship that drove a wedge between Ewan and the one he truly loves.

Now, everything changes. Bruce Haversham is out. Effective immediately.

The path ahead wouldn’t be easy – far from it – but now, at least it is a path Ewan can walk freely.

His mind races as he drops the call, the flood of information almost too much to process at once. Talk about a late birthday gift.

The relief hit him fast, like a cool rush of air. But it is immediately followed by something else – confusion, uncertainty. What now? What does this mean for him, and for you?

Matt had swooped in, offering you comfort and companionship, complicating things further. He cares about you, Ewan knows that. And from the outside, it makes sense – you and Matt seem good together.

But Ewan knows better. Deep down, he is certain – absolutely sure – that what you and he shared isn’t just good. It was right. You and him… you are perfect together.

Ewan’s free from his strings, and all bets are off.

It’s all or nothing this time.

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

The rest of the holiday will take up most of part 12! Ewan can actually properly enjoy himself now 😉

Don't think it'll be that easy! Darling's tied to Matty too, in a way. And after that confession? Damn it, Matthew, you sly loverboy you.

How far will Ewan go? And will Matty double down on his efforts? It's all chemical. It's all overriding. 🤷🏻‍♀️💙

#chemical override #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #matt smith #matt smith x reader

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ramblingoak · 5 months ago

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Naps With Copia

Nap #11: An Interesting Nap

*This does contain a very very very very mild spoiler for Rite Here Rite Now but it's not something that effected the plot of the movie*

For @angellayercake 💙

Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

These are all stand alone chapters so you do not have to read one before the other! This series came from my post about wanting to nap with Copia all around the abbey. The stories will all have gender neutral readers and soft Copia naps.

Warnings: again just a very very very mild spoiler for the movie, it's based on a brief moment in it! No other warnings, just Copia being loving and soft, sfw, 980 words, not beta read sorry (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers and @foxybouquet for the Italian help!!)

“Ah, so that’s where it disappeared to.”

Copia’s voice had you blinking awake, squinting against the lights that were backstage. Your cheeks heated up and you shuffled further under your makeshift blanket to hide them. Thankfully your Papa looked more amused than anything, a smile pulling at his lips as he dropped down to his knees next to the couch you had claimed.

“Sorry, Papa.”

“Sorry for what, corvetto mio?” He chuckled when you glanced down at what was covering you, the gem-encrusted robe he wore during rituals. “Well, it does look lovely on you I must say.”

You burrowed deeper at his complement, until just your eyes were visible. Copia looked behind him when there was the clatter of boots, the ghouls chasing each other off the stage and then scrambling around to put their instruments away.

“Ai! No running!”

He groaned in exasperation when they ignored him, banging the metal doors open and going off to do Satan knows what. When he mumbled something about gray hairs you reached a hand out from under his robe so you could cup his cheek and get him to meet your eyes.

“I love your gray hair, Papa.” Copia bit his lip, tilting his head to the side to press against your hand a little harder. Some of those lovely gray hairs of his tumbled across his forehead and he just looked so lovely you had to tug him close so you could kiss him. His forehead was first, followed by his precious nose and finally those irresistible lips for a brief moment before you pulled away. “I love you. I’m so proud of you, have I told you that yet?”

“Maybe once or twice.” He grinned and then lifted up his robe to climb onto the couch with you. “Scootch over, let me join you for a little nap, eh?”

After a few unfortunately placed knees and elbows the both of you found a comfortable position, one of Copia’s legs shoved in between yours and his arms wrapped around your back. Your face was pressed against his neck, your lips hovering over where his pulse was strongest. Another spot you loved to kiss so you did just that, letting your lips linger so you could feel the steady beat against them. It was too much to resist to poke your tongue out, tasting the sweat and paint that had run down his neck during practice.

“Corvetto mio, if you don’t stop–ah,” He hissed when you nipped his skin, his voice a little shaky when he continued. “This nap will get very interesting if you keep that up.”

“Maybe I want an interesting nap, Papa.”

He groaned when you nipped at him again but he didn’t pull away, instead his hands slid down your back stopping when he could slip one of them just beneath the hem of your shirt. You shivered as the leather of his gloves touched your bare skin. Copia’s chest vibrated against you when he laughed at your reaction.

The bastard knew you had a thing for his gloves.

In retaliation you grabbed his sparkly scarf, tugging it out of the way so your mouth could reach more of his neck. He stroked up and down your back as you left more marks on his skin. Marks you’d have to remember to cover back up with makeup after you both left the safety of the couch. Your fingers began to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, opening up a handful of them before Copia let out a frustrated moan, removing his hands from under your shirt so he could stop you.

“I don’t think this is the best spot for an…interesting nap, corvetto mio.”

“Ugh fine, have it your way.”

A little yelp escaped you when he wrapped an arm around you once more and tugged you as close as he could. Your face was tucked against his neck again, his own face lowered so his lips brushed against your ear when he spoke in a low voice.

“Oh I will have it my way later, I promise you that.” You shivered against him, pleased when he rubbed your back again and then tugged the robe back up over your shoulders. “Besides, I know how rambunctious you get and we don’t want to damage this damned thing.”

“Whatever you say, Papa.” You giggled when he pressed a noisy kiss to your cheek before settling along his body more comfortably. “What do you keep calling me?”

“Hmm?” Copia’s voice was sleepy, the poor man already drifting off. No doubt exhausted from working so hard during the tour so far. “You mean ‘corvetto’?”

“Sí.”

“Crow.” You frowned before lifting your head to look at him. He was giving you the special smile only you ever saw. The one where you could see all his love and fondness for you. “You are like a little crow, stealing my sparkly things. Like my robe.”

“I was tired!” His smile grew at your grumpy look, a leather encased finger tapping the pout you were giving him. “And cold.”

“I didn’t say anything, amore.”

“Yes but you were thinking something.”

“The only thing I was thinking about was how much I adore you, corvetto mio. And how happy I am that you are here. With me.”

He quietly wiped at your cheeks with his scarf. Brushing the few tears away that escaped your eyes.

“I think after this tour is over I’ll be able to afford even more sparkly things for you to steal.”

“I don’t need sparkly things, Copia.” You lifted your head up so you could kiss him, moving your lips gently against his and pulling away before the kiss deepened as it inevitably would. “I just need you.”

“Then you’re in luck, amore.” He pressed against the top of your head before continuing, “Because that’s something I can always give you.”

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#rite here rite now spoilers #ghovie spoilers #copia x reader #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #copia #oakie's writing #naps with copia

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teamatsumu · 1 year ago

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kinktober 2023 -> day 11

strangers - iwaizumi hajime x reader

word count: 1,578

warnings: swearing, regular smut warnings, squirting, oral (m!receiving), iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer can make a girl lose her sanity and that’s canon in my head

kinktober masterlist

“Who’s this for?”

You eyed the murky golden liquid in the glass the bartender had just set down in front of you before looking up at him in question. The bartender jerked his head to the side in response.

“He says it’s on him.”

You followed his gaze over to the other side of the circular bar, eyes meeting with the man sitting there, alone like you were, staring directly back at you as if waiting for you to see him.

Your breath hitched. Oh, he was gorgeous.

The red lights in the club bounced off his frame, highlighting the built muscles stretching under his t-shirt. Half his face was in shadow, yet you could make out the strong jut of his jaw, the pierce of his stare, closely cropped spiky hair. He lifted a glass up to his lips, one that you followed eagerly with your eyes, and took a small sip. You gulped.

It took half an hour for him to slam your front door behind the two of you, pushing you into the wall with his frame before his lips met yours in a fiery kiss. You gasped and moaned into his mouth, tugging at his shirt like it was offending you, wanting nothing more than to rip it off and run your hands all over his body, feel how his muscles shifted and moved as he did unspeakable things to you-

“Fuck.” He groaned into your neck, teeth sinking into your skin as his hands slid under your skirt and grabbed handfuls of your ass so you would arch into him. You whined at the sting of his bite, feeling your core clench around nothing.

“T-take this off.” You whimpered until he pulled back, tugging his shirt off his to reveal beautiful expanse of bronzed skin. You wasted no time in running your fingers up his arms, the flex of his biceps, his shoulders, tense and ready. His abs clenched as you brushed over them, and you felt your mouth water when you touched the v-line that led to his pants.

“Wanna suck your cock.” You whispered, looking up at his face again. His eyebrows shot up in shock before a smirk tugged up the corner of his lips.

“And here I was, thinking you were one of the shy ones.” His voice was so husky that you moaned. He reached a hand up to tangle in your hair, pushing down on your head.

“C’mon then, sweetheart. Get on your knees.”

You nearly came.

You lowered yourself down, trembling hands undoing the button on his jeans, eyes never leaving the bulge that was struggling to get out from the confines of his clothes. Your eyes widened as you stared at his dick, long and thick and flushed in a furious maroon color. You could feel his smirk as he stared down at you, but your eyes never left his crotch. You licked your lips, unable to wait a second longer.

His groan was heavenly when you took him into your mouth, as far as he would go, too impatient to work him in properly. You didn’t take the time to slowly relax your throat around him. You were in no mood to go slow. You wanted to choke on him and have him fuck your face hard and rough until your mind was too foggy to register anything around you.

Why else would you hook up with a complete stranger?

“Jesus fuck.” The man swore, hand tightening in your hair and groaning loud when he hit the back of your throat, making you gag a bit as your eyes watered. You struggled to breathe through your nose, pushing forward again and moaning long and loud, nose brushing against the skin of his pelvis. A sharp tug immediately pulled you off his cock, making you gasp and whine at the loss. One more tug and you were stumbling onto your feet. You met his eyes then, breath hitching at how dilated his pupils were, at how his lids had fallen to half open, looking at you hungrily.

“You’re too good at that, princess.” He groaned, stepping forward so your body was once again pressed to the wall behind you. “But I wanna cum with my cock deep in your pussy instead.”

You moaned and flushed at his statement. The foul language coming from him was turning you on immensely, the thought of some unknown man stripping you of your clothes and talking about how your pussy would feel around his cock made you clench hard, feeling wetness run down your thighs. He hooked a hand behind your knee, pulling your leg up so you were spread for him, the other hand reaching up to run through your folds, making you whine and jerk up at the contact.

‘You’re soaked, baby.” He cooed, breath hot on your neck. The tip of his finger prodded at your entrance, and you moved into his touch, making him chuckle.

“I- please,” your voice trembled. “Please.”

He wrapped the leg he was holding around his waist, supporting your weight and lifting the other leg around him too, pressing you into the wall. His cock brushed your slit, head breaching your hole and making you arch into him.

“The name’s Hajime.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “Scream it, princess.”

With that, he slammed his cock into you.

You screamed and arched, breath knocked out of you when he wasted no time in picking up the speed, cock pounding into you over and over with no signs of stopping. Your hands shot up, trying to find purchase over the wide expanse of his sweaty back, nails digging into his skin. You cried and gasped, arching into the amazing feeling as his cock tore through you, hitting spots you didn’t even know you had, tingling nerves that had never been touched before, his skin sliding against your own and his breath hot on your neck.

“H-Hajime!” You weeped, one hand reaching up to clutch at his hair, unable to breathe properly when the head of his cock brushed against your sweet spot. You jerked and wailed at the feeling. His lips curled up into a smirk against your neck.

“Found it.” He whispered, angling his hips so it would hit the same spot over and over again. Tears streamed down your face and you shrieked, struggling against his hold, which only tightened, locked you in place so he could pound into you, stimulating every fiber of your body until your head was spinning, until it was too much-

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, nails digging so hard into his back that they broke the skin. But you didn’t care, not when your core was clenching around him for dear life, not when he was hitting your spot so wonderfully. And not when you knew what was going to happen when you came. You could feel it. This build up was too familiar to ignore.

“Hajime, I’m- I’m gonna make a mess.” You whined, feeling fresh tears pour from your eyes. He lifted his head from your neck, eyes meeting your wet ones. His pupils were blown. Sweat dripped from his forehead and his hair was sticking out in all directions. His cheeks held the most beautiful maroon flush you had ever seen. You felt your core tighten at the sight.

He smirked as he looked at you, at how destroyed you were. “You’re gonna make a mess?” He grunted, speed picking up even more. You screamed again.

“Yes!” You arched your back, eyes squeezing shut. You felt no shame in that moment, despite how dirty it was. Oh, it was filthy, warning this stranger who had his cock inside you that he was fucking you so good you were about to squirt on him. It made your eyes roll back. And all it did was turn you on more.

“Fuck.” He choked out. “Do it, baby. C’mon. Wanna feel you gush all over my cock. C’mon princess, cum all over me.”

And that’s all it took. You wailed as your vision blacked out, every muscle in your body seizing as you felt wetness gather all over your crotch and his. Your lungs refused to expand with air, choking and gasping as your body jerked and tensed, mind turned to mush at the intensity of your orgasm. You barely registered Hajime groaning and stilling, emptying himself into you and digging his teeth into your neck as you went limp in his arms.

All was silent for a few minutes, both of you trying to catch your breaths. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision. When your eyes met his again, he gave you a lazy smile.

“Wow.” His voice was raspy and broken. You choked out a laugh.

“We didn’t even make it to your bedroom.” He continued, pulling out of you and moving to set you down. Your legs gave out when your feet hit the ground, making Hajime tense and hold on to you tighter. You stared at each other for a few seconds before he snorted.

“Alright, c’mon Bambi.” He lifted you up again, bridal style, walking further into your house. He stopped in the middle of the living room, staring at you sheepishly. You laughed.

“Bathroom is the first door on the left.” You grinned at him. He started walking, a softer smile on his face.

“You never told me your name, princess.”

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 1 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran n @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

#kinktober #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x y/n #iwaizumi hajime fanfiction #iwaizumi hajime imagines #iwaizumi hajime fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smut

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linopls · 1 year ago

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kinktober day eight

breeding hyunjin x fem!reader summary: hyunjin figures out a new kink of yours. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, degradation, humiliation, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v 1.5k words

you haven't seen hyunjin in two weeks. neither of your schedules have aligned for fourteen days. you’re going what one would call boyfriend-withdrawal and it was terminal. you both had finally found a day that works, or a night. hyunjin told you he would be outside your apartment at 9:00 PM, it was 11:00PM.

you’re fighting sleep at this point. you’ve had a coffee, an energy drink, and have turned down your AC to levels that will keep you awake. but you were just about to give up and let sleep overtake you on your couch, when you hear the sound of keys and your door knob moving. you jump off the couch, almost tripping in the process.

before hyunjin can even enter your apartment, you’ve enveloped him in a kiss. he slides his unoccupied arm around your lower back and pulls you closer. he walks you both back into the room and shuts the front door with his foot without breaking contact. he drops his overnight back at your feet and wraps his now freed arm around your upper back, pulling your chest against his.

his lips are soft, everytime you kiss him that’s the first thing you think. they’re plush and soft and fit against yours like a puzzle piece. the way he kisses is perfect, it's never too sloppy but you can always taste him on your lips for hours after you’ve kissed him. he always knows exactly how to hold you to keep you close and drive you insane.

you start to slide your hands under his shirt and rub your fingers over his abs when he pulls away.

“baby, i have barely gotten in the door,” he laughs, looking down at you. “what’s up with you today?”

“i’ve missed you so much.” you grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it up and over his head. “so, so, so much,” you say, dragging your nails gently back down his chest.

“don’t start something we both know you can’t finish,” he says sternly. you can tell by the way he talks that there is love behind everything he says and that he’s missed you too, but you decide to play along and see how far you can go and push his buttons.

“i can finish anything i start, hyunjin.”

“go sit on your bed. i’ll be there in a minute.”

his demeanor change sends waves of heat to your core. and as you hurry into your bedroom you catch a glimpse of the tent forming in his shorts.

you take the extra time hyunjin has given you to light the candles on your night stand and shut the blinds on the window. you adjust the pillows upright and and adjust the comforter and sit with you back against the headboard while you wait for your pretty boyfriend to come back.

he returns after about five minutes, his shirt still off and his overnight bag in his hand. he places it down on your dresser before stopping to look at you. “come here,” he commands, motioning you with his finger.

you crawl to the edge of the bed and let your feet hang off the side. “get up,” he says, his tone never shifting, you obey and stand. he turns to face you, places a soft kiss on your lips. “kneel.”

you drop to the floor with enthusiasm, staring face to face with his crotch. you move you hand to palm him through his shorts, but he swats your hand away before you make content. “i didn’t say you could touch me, you’re so desperate.”

you whine. “‘m sorry.”

“show me how sorry you are,” he says, sliding his shorts down his legs revealing his long and dripping cock.

your mouth waters at the sight and you go to wrap your lips around the tip and he stops you again. “you’re such a little cockslut, aren’t you? hmm? just open your mouth for me.”

it was like you were playing ‘simon says’ the way hyunjin said anything and you compiled, no questions asked. he slowly slides his cock down your throat. its heavy on your tongue and reaches the back of your throat with ease, you gag and he pulls out, doing the same action again until you are used to the feeling.

“only been gone two weeks and i have to retrain you to take me, hmm?” he laughs.

hyunjin pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail and whispers a small ‘you ready?’. when you give the go ahead he begins fucking your mouth at an animalistic pace, rutting inside you like he never had before. tears are streaming down your face and your moaning and whining at the feeling of hyunjin using your mouth.

“fuck, thats it baby,” he grunts between thrusts. “make me feel good.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head and you're humming around him trying to bring him closer to his orgasm,when he stops and pulls out of your mouth.

“strip for me,” he says as he walks over to your bed and sits in the middle, back against the headboards. you do so quickly, knowing what's about to happen next.

you crawl onto the bed and hover over his cock. “good girl, i didn’t even have to ask,” he praises while putting his hands on your hips.

as you slide down you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve tried to relieve yourself for two weeks but nothing feels as good as him. you slowly slide yourself up and down his thick cock, admiring the feeling. hyunjin stares at you with admiration and lust.

“will you ride me til i cum, baby?” he doesn’t need to ask, he knows the answer, you’d do anything to please him.

you slowly start to quicken your pace, balancing yourself by gripping his broad shoulders. pleasure hazing your mind at the feeling of his veiny cock sliding against your walls. hyunjin takes his hands and folds them behind his head. you whine at the lost of him touching you.

“you’re fine, baby. you can do the work today, i had a very stressful day,” he says. the way his voice is completely steady during this sends frustration and arousal to your core.

you begin to move faster. you move your hands to his knees in hope that can make you move faster but it doesn’t elicit a reaction from him. you whine again, worried you won’t make him finish yourself.

hyunjin must pick up on your frustration. “you can do it, baby. you can fuck me til i fill up your tight cunt.”

the thought of him filling you up makes you dizzy. you whimper at the thought and try to ride him faster, moving your hips in circles.

“oh,” hyunjin gasps. “does the idea of me filling you up get you going?”

you whine in response, uncontrollably clenching around his cock. which at this new speed and angle is hitting your cervix directly.

hyunjin smirks. “keep going then, baby. fuck yourself on my cock til i fill you up and keep going so nothing slips out.”

you’re going insane, your mind is full of hyunjin and you want nothing more than to drain him completely.

“come on, baby. that’s it,” he grunts. “at this rate, you’re gonna get yourself pregnant if you keep going.”

your brain short circuits at the thought and all you're able to do is moan.

hyunjin chuckles. “hm, is that what you want, baby? to be so round and full of me, hm?” he asks, placing his hand on your lower stomach.

“yes, yes, god yes,” is all you are able to reply with. tears streaming down your face, heart pounding out of your chest, and sweat falling onto the bed below you.

“keep going, i’m gonna fill you up, i’m gonna knock you up so good,” hyunjin is blabbering as his hips grind up to meet yours. he moves his thumb down to your clit and rubs small circles on the sensitive bud. you yelp in pleasure as he finally gives you some assistance.

“close,” you whine, grinding down desperately on his cock.

“fuck, fuck!” hyunjin is yelling at that point, humping his throbbing cock up into you. “please cum with me, please cum as i fill you and make you mine. please.”

hyunjin’s cries send you over the edge and you’re cumming all over his cock. your juices slipping all over his lap and your hips buck controllably. before you can even realize it, hyunjin grabs you by the waist and slams you back onto the bed.

“jin! jinnie!” you whine as he continues his brutal attack on your hole. hips spazzing in overstimulation.

“stop squirming slut, take my fucking cum,” he spits. “gonna fill you up til you're swollen and pregnant.”

he thrusts once more before you can fill his cock twitch and his warm seed spilling inside you. he slows down his motions and pulls out. he swiftly replaces his cock with his fingers. he holds your squirming body still with one of his arms over your stomach.

“i said i didn’t want anything to fall out.”

hehe

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli

@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier

@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine

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haetrack · 11 months ago

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spur of the moment (ldh)

part 2 here!

pairing: haechan x afab!reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: basically just smut (sorry), perv!haechan, masturbation (male), bed humping, fleshlight, he thinks about reader who he doesn’t really talk to, unprotected sex mentioned, he’s kinda gross here (sorry to haechan), thinks he’s a dom, he’s really not, not edited

a/n: i genuinely do not know what caused this but it was truly a spur of the moment (walks away)

there’s a certain ache in his back and strain in his fingers.

after being sat at his desk playing a game for… an unknown amount of hours, haechan can finally feel the pain settling in. it’s not exactly his fault though, an event came up for his favorite game, and if he didn’t get the prize for completing the challenges, he’d never be able to live with himself. he plays it off like it’s a joke, but it would probably haunt his dreams if he never got the mysterious prize.

haechan checks the time at the bottom of his computer screen, reading just a little past 11 pm. his friend had stopped playing earlier after feeling like he wasn’t making any progress, to which haechan told his friend it was because he sucks ass. he stretches in his gaming chair, and his body responds by making large cracking sounds. he cringes at the sound and decides it’s probably best if he goes to sleep.

he makes a quick trip to his restroom to freshen up. once he’s finished, he goes to his bed. it’s not made and his blanket is thrown haphazardly across it. he crawls into it, body laid flat onto it. he drapes the blanket over his body, his hands crossed over his stomach as he shuts his eyes.

haechan tries. haechan really tries to go to sleep. he’s not sure if it’s because he was attached to his computer screen for half of the day, but he can’t stop thinking. he’s not really thinking of anything, he just knows it’s there. he tries laying on his sides, tries laying flat down, even tries curling up into a ball. it’s not until he moves to lay on his stomach where he shifts his hips, his cock suddenly twitching in interest.

he internally groans, but a small smirk forms on his face. he moves his hips slowly to grind down onto his bed, the feeling of his shorts rubbing against him causing him to softly groan out. it doesn’t take long for him to grow hard, his body suddenly becoming very needy from lack of attention recently. okay, fine, lack of attention from another person in a while.

haechan continues grinding down onto his bed, his body growing hot at the sensation. he feels kinda pathetic for doing this, back arching in order to gain the most pleasure. he can feel his tip leaking with precum, staining the front of his shorts, which will eventually stain his sheets. his hands grip tightly onto his sheets, his moans successfully covered by his face shoved into his pillow. he can’t see his own face, but he can tell he’s red.

haechan realizes he’s very close to cumming. the realization of him getting close from humping his own bed like a dog in heat dawns on him. embarrassment floods his head, and he moves to sit up. he’s breathing quite heavily, sweat forming at his hairline. his mind shifts to the box under his bed, containing an item he’s quite embarrassed about.

he gets down on his knees to look under his bed, a shaky hand reaching out to find the box he’s stashed away from the world. inside of the box, he reaches for his fleshlight. in his mind, he tries to defend himself by saying it was just a gag gift and nothing more, but the amount of times he’s used it says otherwise. he promises that he’s not a gross pervert, he can’t help that it feels better than his hand.

while moving to lay back down on his bed, a thought crosses his mind: he’s not quite sure when he’s last cleaned it. once again, he promises he really isn’t a gross person and he’s actually very clean. he tries not to let this ruin his session though, he just decides to clean it now and move on. he gets back up to move to his restroom, reaching for his glasses to slide them back onto his face.

he reaches his sink, and he looks in the mirror to really assess what he’s doing. he’s about to clean his pocket pussy just so he can quickly get off. a feeling of shame passes through him, is this really who he is as a person?

the shame quickly leaves his body as he begins washing it. he lets water drip through it, and he pumps soap in his hands in order to clean it. one more promise, he swears he at least cleaned the cum out of it last time, he was just scared of how dust might collect under his bed. anyways, he lathers soap onto his fingers and presses his pointer and middle finger to the small hole of the fleshlight.

he pushes his soap-lathered fingers in, and his face heats up once again. the warm water caused the inside of the fleshlight to feel warm too, and, well, he can’t help but think it’s like the real thing. his dick twitches in interest at the thought of it, and he can’t help how his hips hump into the counter of his sink. a small moan escapes his lips, the thought of sex making his body move on its own.

he continues pumping his fingers in and out of the toy, fingers appearing out the other side. the warm water and soap help aid the movement of his fingers, and he imagines that it would be how warm and wet your pussy would feel around him.

he pauses his movements at his sudden thoughts. he’s not quite sure how his thoughts moved to think of you, the person who sits in front of him in his ethics class. he only took the class because he had to, but he doesn’t mind waking up early in order to see the outfits you wear, to hear your voice answer the professor’s questions. and no, he’s never really talked to you, besides the time you turned around and asked how his morning was.

he remembers the interaction, he somehow stuttered answering you, the sight of your lips moving and your eyes looking up at him because of the elevated row. from that point forward, he knew he had to at least talk to you once before the semester ends. he was so sure he wasn’t obsessed with a person he doesn’t know too well, but his actions right now prove otherwise.

accepting the fact that he’s going to get off to the thought of you, his movements turn hasty. his hips move to the rhythm of his fingers, his shorts rubbing against his tip perfectly. small whimpers fall from his mouth, the thought of you under him, him fingering you and you crying out his name proving to be too much for his mind. his thumb moves to the fake clit, making small circles over it. he imagines you begging for release, telling him how much you need him.

with his mind racing, he reaches down to pull his cock free from the confines of his shorts. he can’t let himself cum without the warmth of your pussy, can’t imagine not fucking your pussy full of his cum. his dick slaps against his stomach, waiting to be touched. he positions the toy in front of him, imagines that he’s bending you over the sink, forcing you to watch him fuck you.

haechan pushes his dick slowly into the toy, biting down onto his bottom lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape him. it’s warm and wet, the water helps ease his dick slowly into it. once he’s fully in, he has to stop and take a few breaths in order to stop himself from cumming so fast. he feels like a loser from almost cumming too fast from a toy, and he looks up into the mirror to see how flushed his face is, sweat dripping down his temples.

horniness overrides his embarrassment as he swivels his hips against the toy, the tip of his dick reaching out the other side of it. he slowly slides back out of the toy before slamming his hips back into it. the warmth sends shivers down his spine, and he can’t help but think about how you would be begging for him to move already. “c-can’t let my baby wait, right?” he whispers out to the hypothetical thought of you under him.

he lets his hips move on their own, his mind completely filled with the thought of you. whimpers slip out from the drag of his tip against the toy. if you were here with him, he’d force you up to look at the two of you in the mirror, he’d whisper in your ear and tell you how dirty you are. instead, he looks up and sees the image of him, his hair sticking to his forehead and fog filling up his glass lenses. how dirty.

whimpers of your name fill the restroom, and if he thinks hard enough, he can feel you in front of him. his hips slapping against your ass, his hands would grip onto your hips before moving onto your chest to grope around. he’d bite down onto your shoulder before licking a strip up your neck. your hand would reach for his to drag it down to your clit. “my baby needs more?” and you would nod along to his words, whimpering out a please, haechan.

of course, he would always give you what you want. his hand moves to the front of the pocket pussy, rubbing at the clit, his other hand tightening around the toy to imagine how it would feel for you to clench around him. his cock presses deep inside, everything feeling too much for him to hold back anymore.

“tell me what you need, baby, ‘m so close- oh fuck- need you to talk to me.” haechan would groan in your ear. he imagines you would babble back to him, “please let me cum, love you so much, always wanted this, please make me cum haechan.”

he’s huffing, heavy breaths turning to whimpers. it feels too real, as if you were really there with him. how soft your skin would feel, how your voice and your moans would tell him everything he needs to hear. how your tight pussy would suck him in, cementing how much you really love him. you would tell him how much you love him, how good of a boyfriend he is. you would try to reach back to kiss him softly on his lips, contrasting your perverse actions.

he’s too far in his head to realize that he’s the pervert. he’s pathetically getting himself off to you, who he’s only talked to once, with a fake pussy. he could’ve just gone to sleep, seen you tomorrow and asked if you would like to hang out with him, but he’s doing this. he can’t talk to you normally, so he needs to fuck a toy in order to feel close to you. you mean so much to him, and you’ve only shown interest in him once. that’s all he needs from someone like you, pretty enough for him to imagine cumming deep in you.

“you’d let me cum in you, r-right? let everyone know who you belong to?” he’s rambling now, pretending you’re nodding along to his words, telling him to shove his cum deep inside of you. his fingers messily rub against the clit, his mouth open, drool spilling past his lips. his glasses slip down his nose, too sweaty and too fogged up for him to see out of anyway.

his dick is twitching, his balls tightening. although he wishes he could be like this forever, the moment is ending too fast for him to stop. “gonna give you everything,” a loud moan cuts him off, “i love you so much.”

his dick slams into the toy, spurts of cum drip out of his tip and into the sink. his hips subconsciously move on their own in order to release the last of his cum into the toy. he has to catch his breath, the orgasm feeling too real. he slowly slips out of the toy, feeling too overly sensitive to move too fast.

he keeps his tip at the entrance, watching the last of his cum slip out of the toy. it feels too real, and his fingers move absentmindedly to shove the cum back into the fake pussy. after a few moments, it feels as though he’s regained consciousness. he looks around to see his cum all over the sink and on his fingers. he sighs, using his clean hand to scratch the back of his sweaty neck.

he’s not sure how he’s going to look you in the eyes tomorrow.

taglist: @froggyforyoongi

#haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct fic #haechan fic #haechan scenarios #haechan x reader #sub haechan #nct imagines

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gi4hao · 7 months ago

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🗓️ ᡣ𐭩ྀི ˎˊ- anniversary dates with seventeenྀི

hyung line version! (scoups -> woozi)

had a really sunny weekend so please enjoy these sunshine-fueled scenarios!

— seungcheol

turns out your anniversary took place during a vacation together, a week-long holiday near the beach. on the d-day, he refuses to say anything about his plans, no matter how many times you ask, to the point where you end up blindfolded as he leads you to his surprise. when you take the blindfold off, the only thing you can see is a white boat awaiting on the shore. at first you’re scared he might have actually bought the boat, but he ‘only’ rented it for a private dinner. the sun has just started to set and you’re glad to have picked one of your cutest outfits because you just know he’s going to be taking as many pictures of you as he can. you might be admiring the sunset, but he'll be admiring you the whole time.

— jeonghan

he truly racked his brain to find the per-fect date idea. on the day, he keeps you guessing with more than vague hints (like “we talked about doing that one day” as if you didn’t talk about literally doing everything together). but he’s confident in his surprise and rightfully so: at first you think it’s just a regular picnic, which would have been fine on its own, but as more people start to gather around you, you realize that a lantern festival is actually taking place here tonight. together, you scribble your wishes and dreams for the future on your lantern. and you love how he’s not even trying to hide what he’s writing: one thing about jeonghan, he’ll never try to conceal anything about his feelings for you.

— joshua

this one has a proud smirk plastered on his face the entire morning, hinting at a surprise. you get in his car around 9am and drive for about twenty minutes until he stops in front of a fancy looking building. “you know how we always talk about moving to a bigger apartment yet never actually visit anything? well i figured today would be the day…”, he tells you excitedly. and it’s only when the realtor meets you on the street that you realize joshua has actually booked a visit. more than one, in fact: throughout the day, you visit four apartments, walking from one to the other hand in hand, already fantasizing about what life is going to look like for the two of you.

— jun

both having a busy schedule, you recently told jun you missed having a proper dinner together and it’s given him the best idea for your anniversary: a nice dinner together without the practical difficulties of going to a fancy restaurant. when you come back home that evening, you find your place tastefully decorated with various candles, flowers and fairy lights. as for jun, he’s done his hair the way you like it best, dressed in an outfit you love, wearing the same perfume from when you first started dating. with a sheepish smile, he guides you to the balcony where the table is set, revealing the stunning city view from your apartment.

— hoshi

his plan for today is to make you feel as loved as ever, and that requires day-long dedication, starting with mandatory prince.ss treatment all morning. around 11, he tells you it’s “time to go” although you still have no idea what he’s talking about. but a 45 minutes drive later, you can make out the blueish color of the sea in the horizon. with him by your side, you know it won’t be just any beach day: picnic on the sand, a long walk along the shore spent saying “look, it’s us!” when you see two relatively close rocks, and most of all, soaking up the sun together in the water, all while being that clingy couple who cannot stop swooning over each other.

— wonwoo

this morning, wonwoo wakes up particularly early to cook breakfast for the both of you. you’re already awake by the time he’s done, but he looks so adorable trying to balance the tray while opening the door with his foot that you pretend like you’re still asleep. later, he surprises you with a gift which looks… a bit odd. you didn’t really expect a QR code. but you scan it anyways, and then everything starts to make sense: the QR code brings you to a website, a shelter website more specifically. “are we…”, you start, a huge smile already on your lips. “going on a shelter date to get a cat? absolutely”, he replies, glad you’re enjoying his surprise as much as he hoped.

— woozi

to him, this is the perfect day to show how much your relationship means to him, because he fears you might not know it well enough (you do). so he’s got a little something prepared… the first part of his plan is to fake an apology: “i’m really sorry, i completely forgot…”. second part is to say he’ll take you to movies another day, which you accept, still half-upset. and finally, last part is to welcome you home on the d-day, takeout ready on the table but most importantly, with a homemade outdoor cinema right in your backyard. thick mattresses, fluffy pillows and a large white screen facing a brand-new projector, he went all out to make sure you feel as cherished as he always does.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

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omi-boshi · 9 months ago

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period cramps and a little bit of pining

your best friend omi comes over to take care of you during your period

tags: no plot just gratuitous fluff and yearning word count: 2.2k

through the haziness that comes from just waking up, you hear the muffled sound of knocking, followed by the click of the door unlocking. you poke your head out from under the covers, curious. the sound of footsteps and rustling just outside your bedroom door fill the space and truthfully, you should be more worried that a stranger has seemingly broken into your apartment. however, the lack of angry growling from your sweet great pyrenees and screams of bloody murder from the stranger soothe the concern that tries its damnest to rise above your grogginess. you stay quiet, curled up on your side, head still peeking out. the continuing muffled sounds almost lulling you to sleep, your eyes falling close. that's how kiyoomi finds you.

he pushes the bedroom door open. quietly, he pads over to the bed and crouches just beside where he can see your face. the concerned furrow between his brows softens slightly as he takes in your sleepy form. he debates waking you up, not wanting to disturb the sleep you're finally getting after a night dealing with cramps of the worst kind. he wishes nothing more than to indulge you as he always does but as your closest friend, he knows you have yet to get up and eat. and that takes priority. cautiously, he runs his fingers through your hair and down your cheek which you turn into, seeking the warmth radiating from his skin. the subconscious action disarms kiyoomi. he has to fight through the thumping in his heart to call your name until you finally start waking up. he watches as you rouse from your sleep, grumbling through the whole motion. it tugs a small smile up his lips. your eyes flutter open and the seconds that follow are punctuated by the stillness of the air as you stare up at him, slowly processing his presence. your eyes travel up his figure. the mask dangling from his right ear. the hoodie he wears — the one you usually steal from him. the fuzzy socks you got him for Christmas. the worn sweatpants you've told him many times to replace and yet he never does because it looks fine, you remember him arguing at some point. the memory of it makes you smile. your gaze trails to the soft curve of his lips, the moles partially covered by his damp messy hair — he must have showered before he came from practice — before finally landing on his eyes that quietly watch you. "hi," you finally whisper in what feels like eons. voice scratchy from disuse. "hey, sleepy head," he says just as softly, mirth coloring his tone. "what are you doing here?" "you texted me last night. did you forget?" you hum in confusion, sitting up slowly and pulling your arm from under the covers to look for your phone.

to omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:43 PM

omiii com e over tmrw :((( - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:44 PM

You okay? - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 10:44 PM

I have practice in the morning but I can come over after. Is that alright?

- to omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:07 PM

that work s yes!!! and im okya, just kinda in pain and loopy from the meds and sticky ;-; - to omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:07 PM

everything hurts n i cant sleep on my back but it's ok see u tmrw! - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:08 PM

It's that time, huh? - from omi!!! :] Yesterday 11:08 PM

Get some rest. I'll be there as soon as I can.

"oh," you mumble, as you scroll through your messages. "i thought I was dreaming." you put your phone down to look kiyoomi in the eyes, a tilt to your head. "i'm glad you actually came though." kiyoomi breathes in deeply, heart thumping so loud — at this point he's sure you can hear it. but of course, you are none the wiser as you continue peering down at him, sleepy smile on your face.

"of course, i would." he returns the smile. “anyway, i didn’t know what you wanted since you didn’t reply to me all morning.” he pulls out a paper bag that was sitting behind him. “so, i just got a bit of everything.” in your curiosity, you sit up straighter to look at the bag kiyoomi has brought. he starts pulling out its contents and showing them off to you with a dorky grin that grows the more items he shows you. there were donuts, churros, chocolates, cookies, mochi, bread of all variations, and a singular bottle of the tea drink you've been raving to him about the past month. "kiyoomi!" you yell, doubling over in laughter. "i can't eat all of this!" "well, good thing there's two of us," he rolls his eyes, grin still on his face. "in my defense, i didn't know what to get." which is a lie. sort of. because everything he got were things you mentioned craving the days leading up to this week. not that you needed to know that of course. "you'd ruin your diet for me, omi?" you pout, eye glimmering in amusement. "that's so sweet! come here!" you reach out to pinch his cheeks, cooing how your omi is the sweetest and kindest person there is and that people would know that more if you stop looking so grumpy, you idiot.he feels his ears flush and he pushes you — nudges, really — to the side, grumbling something about ungrateful spoiled brats. but he can't bring himself to actually chide you for it, not when you're high in spirits right now and he knows how the littlest things could set you off. he wants you happy for as long as your period lets you which isn't long; fickle as your moods are at these times. "alright, alright." he chuckles. "go freshen up and let's get some real food in you first before we eat the sweets," he stands up from his kneeling position on the floor, hand on your arm to pull you up, grunting as he does so. you groan as if remembering why he was here in the first place. you flop helplessly on the bed, boneless, unwilling to leave the inviting warmth of the blankets. "nooo," you whine, purposely obnoxious just to irk him enough to let you go. "i know what you're doing." he tugs again. "it's not gonna work." it's a losing battle, one that you fought valiantly 'til the end. your whining doesn't work and only ends with you thrown over his shoulder. you yelp, thumping his back with your fists in protest as he makes his way through the living room where your dog sees you both and follows you to the bathroom.

kiyoomi gently puts you down, righting your crumpled shirt. he chuckles at the look you send him. to him, you look about as threatening as a baby chick but he rightfully stays quiet. not taking any chances with your knees so close to his crotch. "there are some pads in the cabinet that i bought," he pauses to fix your hair that got messy from being upside down. "it's the kind you always have." you grumble out a thanks, still a bit peeved from being carried out of bed. kiyoomi was right, of course — you do need to freshen up — but you can still give him trouble for it. you're bleeding out and you feel all weird, sue you, right? "while you're here, i'll go heat up the food i got you — it's korean, by the way — and feed snowball too then we can do whatever you want after. sound good?" kiyoomi tilts his head towards you to see your face.

you don't answer immediately, still stubbornly holding on to the frustration of being forcefully pulled out of bed. but just like most things are with kiyoomi, it's a losing battle. again.

it doesn't take you long before you drop the pretenses and meet his gaze. what you see makes the fight in you leave all in one go. his gaze is warm with mirth and... something else. you don't know what it is but it makes you feel shy being at the receiving end of it. you are suddenly conscious of how sloppy you must look right now even though you know kiyoomi would not mind. in your rising embarrassment, you usher kiyoomi out of the bathroom, eyes not meeting his. snowball, who's just so happy to be there, follows kiyoomi out the door. a muffled boof! sounding through the door once you get it shut. you get your wits together and freshen up, taking extra time to deal with the flush on your cheeks that just won't disappear. kiyoomi is taking out the last of the food from the microwave as you come out of the bathroom, livelier now that you've washed your face. he greets you with a smile and calls you to the dining table. lunch is far calmer, a nice change of pace after the hectic ordeal of getting you out of bed. the strange shyness from earlier is forgotten temporarily as you both talk about nothing and everything; how volleyball practice went, how his courses are going, about the new show you wanted to watch with him. once you start feeling the cramps come up again, kiyoomi catches the change in your expression and decides it's time to go back to bed. he hands you the pill you take to treat the cramps and a glass of water. you give him a grateful smile and he ruffles your hair in return.

"go back to bed. i'll be there in a sec," he says, no room for argument. you feel a bit guilty not helping with the cleanup and you tell him as much. he only snorts and tells you it's fine and that it's what i'm here for.

it doesn't do much to abate your guilt but with the cramps only getting worse, there's not much of a choice to be made.

when kiyoomi comes back, he sees you curled up under the covers, eyes shut in pain. he grabs the rechargeable heating pad from across the room and nudges your hand with it. it's only then that you open your eyes.

"hi," you mutter, attempting to smile. "the medicine hasn't kicked in yet." you grab the offered heating pad. "hey, guess we're not watching that show then?" kiyoomi murmurs, knowing full well that you would want to sleep the ache away. you give him an apologetic smile which he only waves off. "i really wanted to watch it too," you mourn. "it's fine. we can watch it another time." he smiles kindly. the silence that follows is somewhat cautious, neither one sure where to go from here. usually, you would have invited kiyoomi into bed by now and he would groan his protest before reluctantly joining you, all the while you would be teasing him about it. but the shyness from before overtakes you and kiyoomi is unusually hesitant as well, eyes darting and feet shuffling in place.

he is the first to break the silence. "i'll head to the living room so you can sleep, okay?" he begins turning away from you. at his words, you hastily sit up. "omi," you call out. he looks to you, head tilted to let you know he's listening. you can barely hold eye contact as the next words stumble through your lips. "um, the-the heating pad falls off when i sleep on my side and, and you know how i can't sleep on my back because the bleeding would leak," you look away from his gaze. "do you... do you mind helping me?"

kiyoomi turns around, regarding you curiously. "and what do you want me to do?" knowing that words will fail you, you silently flip the covers and pat the space beside you. kiyoomi exhales and cautiously takes his spot on the bed, as if this is the first time he's done this. it makes you snort; your shyness and his hesitance, it's ridiculous. and yet you're unable to soothe your increasing heartbeat.

"and then?" kiyoomi asks, quietly.

shaking off the anxiety that's starting to take hold of you, you nudge his shoulder, urging him to lie down beside you. you turn your back towards him, reaching for his hand and slowly guiding it down to lay flat on the heating pad pressing to your lower abdomen. you swear you hear the sharp intake of breath over your shoulder; whether from the temperature of the heating pad or the action itself, you don't know.

kiyoomi is quick on the uptake and lays his palm fully on the pad. it takes you by surprise when he pulls you towards his chest that you can't help the little gasp you let out. "like this?" he asks, almost teasingly. the hesitance from before melting away from his tone. unfortunately for you, it does menacing things to your heart.

with your heart seizing in your chest, you hum your affirmative and relax in his hold. kiyoomi pulls up the covers on both of you and adjusts so that your head rests on his other arm. with the soft thump-thump of his heartbeat combined with the warmth from the heating pad and his body, you are slowly lulled to sleep. "we should talk about this, you know?" you hear just as you are on the brink of sleep and you only hum in response. you hear him chuckle, or rather feel the vibrations of it. And then lastly, a kiss to your hair. "another time then."

what comes after will be dealt with another time. for now, you will enjoy each other's warmth.

i wrote this on a whim because im currently bleeding out and everything hurts so bad and i wish i had an omi to take care of me ;;;;; I've got a more planned out fic that i can't wait to get out there i swear ;;;; pls take this crappy peace offering for now

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trashogram · 5 months ago

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He Chose You (Pt. 13.5)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(So, this is a quick update because chapter 14 keeps getting more complicated but I promised a continuation last weekend and couldn’t get it out due to health concerns. I hope y’all can forgive me for such a short chapter piece, but thank you for reading regardless!)

“You’re here.”

You paused, hands already wrapped around Lucifer’s as the words spilled from both his and your mouth. In spite of everything, you giggled semi-hysterically and the stalled expression on Lucifer’s face relaxed as well.

He looked at you between the bars of the gate, eyes shining to the point of tears. You pressed harder against the bars of your cage as if to slip through, one hand raised to cup his cheek and thumb the cherubic blush there.

“I didn’t think I’d get to see you again.” He admitted, surrendering to your touch.

It hurt to smile but you couldn’t help yourself. You grinned through your own tears, dripping down your cheeks before falling to the clouds beneath. You were struck by his admiring gaze, even with the blurring of your vision. It reminded you of the many times he’d looked at you when you were a mere mortal and not privy to the knowledge you had now.

You had tried so hard to fight against what that look meant, stupidly thinking you wouldn’t fall prey to it if you feigned ignorance.

The King sniffled, hand intertwined with your own as you explored the planes of his face once more. He closed in on the bars that kept you from each other, slumping forward to press his forehead to yours. He inhaled deeply, trying to absorb everything that was You without heeding what lay behind him or beyond. His wings had expanded to their full glory, acting as a screen between you and the less than welcoming retinue that had just attacked him. Lucifer couldn’t provide full privacy from the throng of nosy citizens gathered behind you. But at least you were shielded from Gabriel and his goons for the time being.

“It’s alright.” You soothed, fingertips fleeced through his blond hair. “We’re together now.”

The noise he made was more a sob than a laugh as he intended, but your heart swelled at the sound. For a moment you soaked in the touch of his face against your own, in all of its cold, marblesque glory. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that you were back home, spending another lazy afternoon trussed up with Lucifer in your bedsheets.

Your eyes opened again, suddenly.

“Lucifer, where’s Charlotte?” You asked.

The father of your child seemed out of sorts at the question. His mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish’s before enlightenment brightened his features.

“She’s fine!” He replied. “She’s all tucked in her crib, fast asleep.”

“Her crib… at the Farrows?” You gulped down the shot of bile that raced up your throat.

“Well… yeah,” Lucifer’s smile wilted at the hysteria building behind your eyes like a tsunami wave. “I couldn’t very well bring her with me!”

“So you left our daughter with those people?!” You couldn’t help the shrill accusation from leaving your mouth when a million and one horrible possibilities ran through your head.

“No! I would never!” Lucifer denied, head shaking vigorously. “She’s being watched over by the goats!”

Your eyebrows rose, rearing back. “What?”

“The goats! The ones with little wings and tails that I made? I showed them to you right before you… well, you know!” Lucifer caroled. “Remember?”

You stared at him blankly until the metaphorical lightbulb in your brain flicked on. Incredulity bodied you.

“You left… our baby… with stuffed animals…?”

Lucifer stilled for an instant before reanimating until his body resembled less a sturdy human’s and more a flexible jello mold as his arms pinwheeled at his sides. The Devil’s wings flapped and shuddered with his anxiety.

He matched your hysteria with a frenzied laugh. “Oh! No! Not— I wouldn’t! I-I-I gave them sentience! Th-that-that was the plan! I was gonna tell you before but — I-I guess it slipped my mind after you started glowing!”

Lucifer attempted to steady himself after the sudden burst of emotion as you stared in alarm, though he was panting when he leaned forward.

“They were made for Charlotte. To cater to her every need! And if anything happens, they know to get me right away!”

His eyes went wide and earnest. “I would never, ever, ever put our baby in danger. I swear to you. Never. I-if I could’ve brought her with me, a-and been sure that no one would try to take her, I’d —”

Your fingers brushed over his lips as soon as he was within range again.

“Okay.” You interrupted.

Lucifer blinked.

“Okay?” He asked.

You nodded, taking his hand once more to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I believe you.”

Your kiss had the desired effect. Lucifer melted into a daze, smiling almost shyly at the gesture before you looked into his eyes again. You tried to communicate your sincerity without words, for it would take far too long to tell him everything you’d discovered upon arriving in Heaven.

You sighed softly, feeling his warm breath on your face. Lucifer gravitated toward you, close enough to kiss between the infernal bars holding you back…

“Lucifer, I…” Your words came out shakily, the heartbeat you shouldn’t have ringing in your ears.

His lips were a hair’s breadth away. Too distracting. Your eyes fell shut. “I… lov-”

“I fucking told you this would happen!”

You froze.

A harsh voice rose above the din and fray, bringing reality with it to jolt you upright.

Lucifer’s expression fell, warped by shock and horror as you were ripped away from his grasp and pulled back from the gate as if it were on fire. You gasped as your back collided with another’s chest and an arm wrapped around your midsection.

Your head snapped up to see Adam’s ghoulish mask hung above you, glaring over your head at Lucifer. He continued to squeeze the life out of you as he flew back and stopped a good meter away from where you’d been standing.

“Let go of me!” You shouted, squirming in the man’s grip. You dug your nails into his forearm, trying to pry him off of you. An unusual feeling lanced up your spine, something that was not quite pain but uncomfortable and indescribable. It further disoriented you as you were dragged back.

A force of wind blasted over you and Adam, stopping the latter in his tracks with a curse. The gale blew back your extremities, forcing you to cover your face to block the brunt of it. You squinted through it to catch another glimpse of Lucifer.

The Devil’s wings pumped through the air in his rage as he stood ablaze in red, ivory and gold. He looked much like he had before your death: a fiery comet promising destruction to anything in its path. Pure energy radiated off of him from all sides as his horns protracted from the crown of his head. Fire bloomed between them to match the blood red that had overtaken his eyes, and the jagged stripes rippling over his porcelain face.

His fangs gnashed and once delicate hands contracted into long claws that grappled with the gate panels until they bowed and bent under the pressure.

Gasps and screams filled the air all around you.

* Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx, @darling-angel222, @elementwind91, @bloody-delusion-expert, @devilslittlebabyxx, @diffidentphantom, @shamblezzz, @ranposanedogawa, @minamilinaqueen, @1-helluva-hazbin

#hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader

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mandarinmoons · 8 months ago

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could you write spencer x reader, where reader is pregnant and they’re having like the worst argument ever, and too much stress causes yn going into labor. thanks🫶🏻

You were 9 months along and extremely pregnant. If it weren’t for Spencer helping you every time you needed to get up on your feet, you didn’t think you would’ve made it halfway through your term. Your feet were swollen, your back was aching and with the baby kicking more regularly, you were exhausted and couldn’t wait for it to be all over.

Spencer had been caught up with work for the past few days and wasn’t able to be there for you as much he needed to. By now your mood was pretty stable as you managed to get used to the hormones caused by the pregnancy, but this time around they had full control and with Spencer not being around to dote on you it was a recipe for disaster.

It was 11 o’clock at night, with not being able to sleep comfortably due to the size of your stomach you decided to stay up late until Spencer got home and watch whatever reruns the TV channel you had settled to watch had to offer.

While clicking through the channels the front door opened and closed and you heard a familiar sigh, Spencer finally got home. As he shuffled out of his shoes he slowly made his way to the couch, he pressed a kiss to your head and sat down next to you. Leaning over he caressed your stomach and pressed a few kisses on it too.

“How’s she doing?” Spencer’s voice was quiet and even in the dark you could make out that his under eyes were darker than usual.

“She’s been kicking a lot today, too bad you weren’t here to feel it,” the tone of your voice was almost snarky and even though Spencer wasn’t the best at social cues his eyebrows furrowed together as he caught on to your annoyance.

“Is there something wrong?”

You sigh and sit up a bit, “Spencer, I know your work has been hectic recently, but I can barely stand up by myself and not having someone here to help is really difficult.”

Spencer’s jaw lightly clenched and you saw a vein pop out on the side of his forehead, it was clear that your words were upsetting him.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry that I can’t always be here, but you need to understand that sometimes I just can’t.”

“Can’t you take some time off until I give birth?”

Spencer sighs and sits up as he rubs his hands over his face, “I can’t, we need the money. Having a family is expensive,” Spencer’s voice was agitated, you knew you should back off but you couldn’t, you were the one who was taking on the majority of the burden of bringing this child to life and you weren’t about to be shut down.

“Can’t you show a little compassion?”

“A little? Y/N I rub your back and feet every night, even after I get home from work, even if I chase down an unsub for how long, I always make time for you!” Spencer’s voice was getting louder and his fists clenched, meanwhile your blood was boiling and tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Screw this,” you managed to stand up and waddled your way to the bedroom while Spencer looked to the side and took a deep breath. He loved you but sometimes your stubbornness got a bit much for him.

You slammed the door shut and a moment later you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen which led you to gripping onto the nearby dresser. A groan left your lips and a moment later you felt water trickle down your legs, this was it.

“Spencer!” you yelled and he was by your side a second later, crouching down to look at your face.

“She’s coming, the baby’s coming.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide and he quickly grabbed you a jacket and a pair of shoes, which he helped put on, and gently guided you to the car.

One extremely careful yet quick car ride later you were taken into a hospital room and nurses surrounded you as they helped you get through the pain, all while Spencer was right by your side squeezing your hand in his and giving it a sweet kiss every now and then.

“You’re doing so well sweetheart.”

You looked over at Spencer and winced as another contraction racked your body and whimpered, “I’m sorry Spencer.”

“Shh no no, it’s okay, don’t worry about that now. Let’s just focus on getting our girl here, yeah?”

You nodded and squeezed Spencer’s hand as another contraction took over.

Hours later cries were finally heard in the room and the little miracle that you and Spencer had made was put in your arms. You looked down at the now sleeping baby and ran your finger over her cheek. You looked at Spencer and saw tears flooding his eyes, that was his little girl.

“Do you wanna hold her?”

Spencer nodded eagerly and gently took the infant in his arms as he took in the sight in front of him, you had just given him one of the greatest gifts he could ask for.

“What should we name her?”

Spencer took a moment as he was still mesmerized by the presence of his own child.

“What about… Bailey?”

“I like that, Bailey Reid.”

Spencer chuckled and sat down on the hospital bed next to you. You inched a bit closer and admired how Spencer held Bailey. You rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder and he made sure to press a sweet kiss to your head.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, so much, and now also her.”

“Me too, so much.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @indigosamsblog @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

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2amriize · 3 months ago

Text

✩࿐࿔ eyes on you - eunseok one shot

genre: academic rivals, enemies to friends pairing: eunseok x reader

Eunseok is known for being one of the smartest and most perfect students at the country’s top university. He had never found anyone who could challenge his position until you arrived at the university as the new student. With an impeccable academic record, you quickly became his only rival.

From the very first day Eunseok met you, he saw you as a threat, and although he was friendly with everyone else, he hardly ever spoke to you. He basically acted like you didn’t exist. You always thought it was because he didn’t want to accept that there was someone who could compete with him.

At first, it could be said that it was only a rivalry over academic grades, but this rivalry grew over time, adding in popularity, achievements, awards in competitions, and so on. Tensions were rising as the school year progressed, and everyone in your class could feel it.

It was exam season. You usually studied in your room, but your roommate had invited some friends over for a few days, making it impossible for you to concentrate there. After trying several cafés to study, you decided that the best option might be to go to the university library. You had been avoiding it all this time because you knew exactly who always studied there: Eunseok.

You looked around for a place to sit, but since it was exam season, the place was completely full. You walked through the aisles to see if there was any empty seat towards the back, and finally, you found a spot where no one was sitting. You walked as fast as you could so no one would take the seat, and when you got there, you sat down quickly.

You sighed in relief, but when you looked up, you were completely stunned. Eunseok was sitting right in front of you, looking at his computer while trying to solve some exercises in his notebook. Eunseok raised his head, making eye contact with you.

“Well, well, what’s y/n doing here? I thought you could only study in your room,” Eunseok whispered, letting out a soft laugh.

“I came to keep a close eye on you,” you joked as you pulled out your laptop and notebooks.

“Don’t worry about me, y/n. You should focus on yourself. After all, it’s very easy for me to beat you.” Eunseok watched you with a smirk, the kind that always made your blood boil. You simply ignored his words, immediately getting to work on studying for the calculus exam you had coming up.

Although you thought it would be hard to concentrate in the library (especially with Eunseok in front of you), the hours passed by quickly. When you looked out the window, you realized it was already dark. You checked the time on your laptop: 11:38 p.m. You had been there all afternoon, and you were so focused on solving the exercises that you hadn’t even realized you had missed dinner.

You stretched a little as you lifted your head from your laptop, noticing that almost everyone had already left the library, but Eunseok was still sitting in front of you. He was focused on writing things on a piece of paper while doing some calculations on his calculator. You noticed that his hair was a bit messy, and he was wearing glasses. You had never seen him like this before. In class, he was always well-dressed and polished, and as far as you could remember, he never wore glasses to class. He really presented himself as perfect in everyone’s eyes.

Eunseok stretched as well, letting out a small yawn while looking at you. You were also starting to feel a bit tired, not to mention starving, but seeing how Eunseok started writing a new exercise in his notebook, you knew you couldn’t just get up and leave. It was a silent battle of sorts, where the last one studying the longest would win. This was also one of the reasons you had been avoiding the library to study, because you knew there would be a competition over who could study the longest. Still, you finished stretching and went back to looking at your laptop, starting to work on more exercises.

When you checked the time on your laptop again, it was 2 a.m. Your eyes were starting to close more and more, your vision getting a bit blurry as you looked at your notes. Plus, you couldn’t help but hear your stomach growling. What if I close my eyes for a few seconds? you thought as you rested your head on one of your arms.

You didn’t expect that when you opened your eyes again, Eunseok would be standing next to you, touching your shoulder to wake you up. You quickly sat up, confused as you looked at him.

“What… what’s going on?”

“You fell asleep, y/n. That’s enough,” Eunseok murmured as he started packing up your things, leaving you looking at him confused as you started to pack them too. Why was he suddenly being nice to you?

“No, I didn’t fall asleep, I was just resting,” you heard Eunseok laugh.

“Yeah, sure…”

When you finished packing up your things, you stood up from your chair, realizing you were wearing a sweatshirt on your shoulders that wasn’t yours.

“I put it on you so you wouldn’t get cold. I know better than anyone how hard it is to study when you’re sick,” Eunseok said as he started walking towards the library exit, and you followed him.

“Thanks…” You couldn’t deny that you were taken by surprise by Eunseok’s attitude towards you, but on the other hand, his words felt very familiar. It was true that Eunseok could understand you when it came to studying, since both of you had probably had the same experiences in high school, studying all hours to be the best in the class, even when sick.

You walked to the exit of the library in silence, stopping at the door. You looked at each other in silence for a few seconds until Eunseok broke the silence.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but it wasn’t so bad having you as a table partner. But, well, good night…” he said before turning around and starting to walk towards his dorm.

Did you hear that right? You couldn’t help but smile when you heard his words.

“See you tomorrow, Eunseok,” you raised your voice a little so he could hear you before heading to your room as well.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @cherryishxo @gacktsa

#riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize x reader #riize eunseok #riize one shot #riize one shots #eunseok #eunseok one shot #eunseok imagine

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daycourtofficial · 9 months ago

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor (Part 2)

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 3)

Author’s note: idgaf Azzy is down baddy in this series it’s been 12 hours and he is gone baby

You waited until the next day to text Mor and Feyre, your friends chomping at the bit to know how you are, and you were expecting to sleep in quite a bit, when you discovered that Cassian likes to wake up early and sing. Loudly.

You texted your group chat entitled Hi, Barbie asking hey Mor why didn’t you tell me Cassian had a hot ass brother. You sent an immediate follow up message with the eye rolling emoji.

You didn’t bother locking your phone - Mor always responded incredibly quickly, because she knew if she put off responding she’d forget and never do it. You walk into your bathroom to brush your teeth as bubbles appear that indicate she’s typing.

Mor: 🤷🏼‍♀️ didn’t come up

Feyre: since when have you ever kept quiet about someone being hot

You: or the fact that they live next door

Mor: 🤷🏼‍♀️

You: not even a little heads up?

Mor: okay fine I thought the heads up might scare you away but they are really nice guys

You: I just wish I had known I’d be living with an Adonis who has two more Adonis brothers living next door

Your string of texts was interrupted by the door to your apartment opening and closing, some discussion in the living room, and a soft knock on your door.

“One minute,” you say, ignoring Feyre’s plea for photos of your neighbors. You get up, opening the door to find yourself face to face with Azriel’s chest. Your eyes slowly draw up his body to find him sheepishly looking at your Donald Duck pajama pants, a slight smile on his face.

“I’d ask if you’re ready but I’d assume you aren’t by your pajama pants.”

It comes back to you, having forgotten every moment of the conversation until you saw those hazel eyes that lure you in with their siren song. You would think the words he spoke would be ingrained in your memory, but what stuck to you was the feeling of his gaze on your skin, his undivided attention the previous night the most memorable part of the evening.

“I have to take the stupid rented truck back,” you sigh, taking a sip of your soda.

“When’s it due?” Cassian asks, his eyes not leaving the screen.

“11 tomorrow morning. Driving it was awful - the thing is massive. I almost got in three wrecks on the way here.”

Azriel, from his spot next to you, chimes in. “I could drive it back for you.”

You whip your head to him, surprised by the generosity of Cassian and his brothers. He’s looking at you, his eyes not straying from your own, a softness lingering in his gaze.

He continues, “I drove the truck when we moved in here, so I’ve done it before. Plus you do not want to experience Cassian driving anything, let alone a truck that size.”

Cassian rebukes, “I did not let Mor’s friend move in so you guys could all gang up on me!”

Rhys snorts, “yeah you did it because you wanted Mor to give you appreciation sex.”

Cassian doesn’t even try to look sheepish as he shrugs his shoulders, an attempt to downplay the truth at hand.

“Wait,” you say, attention diverting away from Azriel much to his annoyance. “Something I did got you laid. I deserve some kind of reward for unintentionally being a wingwoman.”

The conversation had continued, but you do recall that when Azriel left that night he had told you you’d see him today.

Your cheeks redden and you tell him, “just give me a minute,” as you close the door on him and quickly run around your room, brushing your teeth as you try to pull your shorts up over your legs. You quickly shoot off a text in your groupchat

Hottie no. 1 is driving my truck back

Before you can get a question back, you immediately follow up with

Azriel is hottie no. 1 btw

You find some more clothes, swiping on deodorant before you open the door back up and tell Azriel you’re ready. The two of you head to the elevator after you swipe the keys to the truck and to your car off the counter and shut the door behind you.

There’s a quiet over the two of you, and you realize that you don’t really know anything about Azriel. Granted you’ve lived next door to him for a grand total of 23 hours now, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to know everything about him.

“So how long have you known Rhys?”

The elevator doors close in front of you and as Azriel leans forward to push the button for the ground floor, your eyes are drawn to his well toned back, watching the muscles in his arms as he’s turned away from your wandering gaze.

“Since we were kids,” Azriel leans against the railing in the elevator, a space large enough to fit your mattress but somehow now feels too small to fit the both of you. “Rhys and Cassian lived next door to me.”

Your eyebrows quirk, confusion sweeping over you. “But wait - I thought you were Cassian’s brother?”

Azriel chuckles, a sound that brings heat to your cheeks at both your misconception and how much the melody affected you.

“No, we’re not actually related. Cassian just…” he trails off for a second, deciding where to carry this conversation. “We all have complicated families and so we made an uncomplicated one.”

The elevator dings, and Azriel holds his arm in front of the doors as you walk through it, heading towards the doors of the lobby. “That’s nice. Not the complicated family thing, but the fact that you guys are there for each other.”

You give him a brief smile, your eyes watching him in step beside you. He huffs, opening the door for you so you can walk under his arm.

“Most days I appreciate their presence. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t heavily weighed the pros and cons of killing Cassian on several occasions.”

You fake gasp, handing him the keys to the truck as you two walk towards it. “Cassian? No way he could ever be that annoying. He’s so sweet - he even woke me up this morning with his beautiful serenade.”

He rolls his eyes, opening your door before heading towards the driver’s side. A small smile graces your lips as you pull yourself up into the truck, settling into the seat as Azriel opens the driver’s side door, getting in next to you.

“He’s no saint and he snores like a chainsaw.”

You gasp, “that’s what that noise was? I thought the air conditioning was struggling all night!”

He snickers, turning the truck on and he pulls out of the spot you had parked it in. You provide him with directions as he drives, the rental place being a bit out of the way. His scent fills the small cabin, a scent of cedar and crisp rain and all you want to do is bury your head in his neck and breathe him in.

“Do you regret moving in with Cassian yet?”

His question catches you off guard, and you watch him take a left turn while you think about your new living situation. Living with Cassian wasn’t ideal, and you had been incredibly nervous about it leading up the move, but now you just felt calm, as if this was the right place for you to be in.

“Not yet, but his singing this morning almost made me reconsider.”

He smiles, his eyes twinkling as he does so. He’s absolutely stunning no matter what he does, but the way his face lights up when he gives a smile makes you want to keep doing it.

“He’s not very good, despite his numerous attempts at karaoke.”

Your eyes light up as you hit his arm, trying not to think about how toned and muscular it was, “Cassian does karaoke?”

He bites his lip trying to suppress his smile, “oh yes. He’s convinced he’s God’s gift to the poor patrons at Rita’s. He drags Rhys and I out to karaoke nights to try out his new material.”

“Please let me come next time, please. I need to see this.”

“Oh I didn’t even get to the best part.” His smile turns wicked as he tells you, “he spends all week working on a dance for the song too.”

You almost scream in delight. “Please, I will do anything if you can convince Cassian to let me come along the next time.”

“I think it’d be more of a miracle if Cassian isn’t trying to force you to come with us. But if he doesn’t extend an invite, I’ll be sure to collect on that deal to bring you along.”

His tone is one full of flirtatious sin as he parks the truck, the two of you arriving without your notice. You peer around, shocked at the ease he drove the truck.

“Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he tells you, and you both get out and walk into the rental place.

To return the truck, you have to give them your ID. The guy looks at your license, seemingly satisifed you are who you say you are. You’re digging in your bag for your credit card to pay, when the guy hands Azriel your license. You pay, and the two of you walk in silence to your car.

As you two get into your car, Azriel tells you to wait. He pulls out your license, looking at the photo, then holding it up so he can look at you. He glances between the laminated version of you who was not at all prepared for the photo that they snapped and the present you.

“Can you smile?” He asks, and you oblige his request, causing him to respond, “there are those dimples.”

Your mouth falls open as you blush, turning your car on so you can look away from his shit eating grin.

The car ride back to your apartment is full of conversation about what you both do in your free time, where you find out that Azriel spends a solid portion of his time working on his motorcycle and driving it around.

“I’ve never actually ridden on one before - what’s it like?” You ask, sneaking glances as you drive. You try desperately to keep your mind from thinking about wrapping your legs around his back, your arms around his middle as you zip through traffic on the back of his bike.

You decide maybe a cold shower is what you need when you get back because your mind cannot seriously be this deep in the gutter already.

From a quick glance you watch him look you up and down, the movement of his eyes making you want to squeal that he is definitely checking you out.

“We’ll just have to change that, won’t we?”

Azriel has no idea what has come over him this morning. He offered to take Cassian’s pretty roommate to drop off her moving truck and it’s like he’s been possessed by something way more charming than he ever has been. Every other sentence out of him has been flirtatious, and Rhys and Cassian would definitely have made fun of him for how deep he had made his voice earlier.

He just hopes to anyone listening that you don’t notice how badly his hands are shaking in his lap, or how his voice slightly waivers each time heat blooms in your cheeks.

He had found it so damn cute the way his words affected you, how you’d turn away, too shy to look at him. Perhaps that’s what kept spurring him on, or maybe it was just the amount of nerves he got in your presence that caused his filter to go away.

Azriel knew one thing - it’s been 12 hours, maybe, since he first saw you, and he’s already in way too deep. He’s never acted like this before, usually keeping to himself and not drawing too much attention. Even just offering to help you drive the truck was out of his comfort zone - a favor for a practical stranger. An offer that was so out of character Rhys and Cassian both looked at him in confusion last night, but thankfully didn’t press any further.

Concern courses through him, at what the effect you have on him and the inevitability of finding out it’s one-sided, until he sees your phone buzz and light up, a message in a chat titled Hi Barbie that says:

Look just tell me how hot this Azriel is I don’t need a photo

A second message dings

Is he like Chris Evans hot

A third message

Or like Aragorn in Lord of the Rings hot

Azriel reads the messages from the corner of his eye, your phone on a stand that extends from your windshield putting your screen on full display for him. He starts smiling as he looks out the window, hoping maybe you’re in just as deep as he is.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #falling in love on the fourth floor

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pinkrelish · 2 years ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶On Monday, he was a ghost. By Friday, he was a man. Saturday night? He was the unintentional third wheel to your and Adrie's Trick-or-Treating antics.✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, reader wears eddie's jacket, light angst, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 4/20 [wc: 10.8k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 4: Ghost Days

Eddie went through Monday like a ghost.

A spectacle in his youth, now a specter. A phantasm phasing through walls. Not a hello, nor a goodbye. Existing in the corners of the room, watching. No attention on him, just working, and thinking. Tending to his dying garden of thoughts when the sun didn’t shine. Moving around you, and the tug of your gravitational pull, with your gaze firm on the desk in front of you, not on the haunt who brought this upon himself, and hurt you in the process.

“You okay, Eddie?” his uncle asked, running a hand up and down his back. “You’ve been staring at that pot of boiling water for ten minutes.”

Eddie fluttered his lashes at the bubbles bursting on the surface. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind.”

————

Tuesday, Wednesday he was a full-body apparition.

No morning smiles, no afternoon laughter, but a single sentence.

“Oh!” You hugged the files to your chest, not knowing Eddie was passing in the hallway to break room right as you were leaving Mr. Moore’s office. Several of the papers crinkled from running into him. Your eyes were screwed shut, expecting an impact. All signs Eddie was real; a thing of worth, a precious brick wall who cupped your arm when you stumbled, who slotted his thumb in the crease of your inner elbow. A chest to brace your hand against. Fingers grasping his dirty coveralls. He was there. He caught you.

And the next day–

“Eddie?”

Your sudden presence scared him. He slammed his black spiral-bound notebook shut and kept his palm over the devil-horned skull he drew on the front.

Sat alone at the table to eat his lunch, the low drone of the vending machines camouflaged the sound of you approaching, and he was too absorbed bin what he was writing down to notice you had entered the break room. Did not realize how close you had gotten until the heel of your palm pressed into a particularly sore muscle in his back from how you steadied yourself on his chair as you bent over.

You picked your gaze up from the notebook, and landed on his eyes. Even if you didn’t mean to, the knot between your brows relaxed the smallest degree–a nearly imperceptible amount–but with how he drank in your appearance, he detected it.

“You wrote O2 for this part here, did you mean X2?” you asked, referring to the invoice in your hand. He watched you bring the question to life. Voice and lips working together to create a lullaby for the unrest in his head. Breath cooling the wet trace of his tongue on his lips.

He was desperate for interaction. He knew. You were too. You just hid it better.

“Eddie,” you reminded him, keen on the five-o’clock-shadow peppering his cheek from neglecting a shave.

If things were different, would you have caressed your thumb along the grain? Would you have pushed his bangs off his forehead, run your fingers through his hair, and pressed your lips to the delicate curve of his temple? Would you tell him he was a good dad for fixing the water heater again, and getting his daughter to school on time, even when he wanted to do nothing more than lay on the couch and cry?

“X2,” he confirmed, “Yeah, I meant X2. Sorry.”

————

Thursday? He was corporeal.

Carl returned from his stay-cation. Stay-at-home-vacation, also known as his wife’s birthday.

He was taking a break in his story to microwave his lasagna when the fading voice of a customer went out the front door, ringing its chime. There was shuffling in the lobby. A backpack being unzipped.

The microwave beeped, and Carl picked up his container with the tips of his fingers, bringing it over to the table, where he sat in the chair facing the hallway.

You walked in with your lunch container, saw the back of Eddie’s head, and walked out.

Carl watched Eddie’s demeanor wilt at the swift exit, gaze falling to the corner of his eyes in acknowledgement of where you were just standing. Face blank, except for the heavy depression drifting his eyelids half-closed. Posture sagged more than normal.

“Is Adrie excited for Saturday?” Carl asked, keeping the conversation light, because boy, did he know that heartbroken look.

“Mm?” Eddie jerked his head up, attentive. He processed the question, and crowded his packed mish-mash of leftovers to his chest, chewing his horrible attempt at replicating Wayne’s pork chop supper as he talked, “Oh, yeah, yeah. Free candy and seeing her friends? She’s been bouncing off the walls all week.” He stabbed an undercooked carrot and brandished it with the same motion he rolled his eyes. “But,” he drew out for comedic effect, “She wanted to dress up as a bat again. Great! Same as last year. No problem, right? So, I take out her costume from the closet, have her try it on, and you know what she says?”

Carl shook his head with a slow grin stretching across his face.

“It’s not pretty enough!” Eddie ate the carrot. “She never wants to be a princess, but all her friends do, and now she’s gotten it in her head that if her costume doesn’t have the same glitter and pizzazz theirs does, it’s not good enough.”

He laughed, “My boys were easier. When they fought over who got to be Donatello, and who got to be Michaelangelo, all we had to do was switch mask colors and weapons.”

“See, they knew what they were doing with the Ninja Turtles, man. Easiest costumes to reuse.”

“Exactly.”

“Now I gotta figure out how to navigate telling her most of the stores are sold out of everything.”

“It’s a toughie, that’s for sure.”

The conversation ended with two knowing nods, sharing the same shallow gripes about parenthood. Carl finished his meal first, and left the table to return to work, while Eddie picked away at his, submerging himself in his thoughts.

A recent drizzle cast Hawkins in a misty haze. The drink machine clicked, and the steady hum rose to a higher frequency. Footsteps squeaked down the hallway. The nervous hand of a once confident woman gripped the doorframe, and she leaned into the room, speaking in a small voice, “I can help.”

Eddie perked up. Head visibly lifting, shoulders drawn back and down. He didn’t respond. Not until he turned around in his chair, and you persevered through the awkward amount of eye contact; wide and unblinking.

You reiterated, “I can help fix up Adrie’s costume so it’s glittery.. Or whatever you said.” Totally not eavesdropping. You waited for a response. “More her style,” you mumbled, filling the void when he forgot what words were.

“Y-Yeah! That–Uhm.. Yeah, you have that kind of stuff?” He clutched onto the back of his chair, knuckles white, bending the plastic from the weight he leaned on it. His face was of equal intrigue, eyes pleading for more interaction, lips parted for more questions, eyebrows pinched in and upwards to show his humility. His thanks.

In a valiant effort for normalcy, you started with a self-deprecating comment, “I mean, it’s not like I was performing on Broadway with a whole costuming department’s worth of tailors, you know. Bobbie and I had to pull all-nighters to finish our own shitty ensembles, so I’m pretty handy with a glue gun, and my sewing skills are serviceable, if I do say so myself.” You stepped further into the break room to put your unfinished lunch in the fridge. “I have tons of fabric and crafting supplies left over. Seriously, I don’t mind spicing up her costume if you wanna bring it by tomorrow. I think I can make something she likes.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to–”

His mouth sealed itself shut at the incremental smirk sneaking its way across your face.

“Well, you see,” you said, exuding pure charisma, “Now you’ve gone and phrased it in a way which enacts my policy. I have to say ‘yes.’”

Given his current state, Eddie was little more than a mess of nerves; sleeping in uncomfortable positions that had his bones aching due to Adrie’s fear of monsters under her bed sending her to sleep with him on the couch; along with the general up-and-down rush of stress when he passed by your desk, and nothing came of his sad glance in your direction.

Unfiltered relief slipped past his chapped lips as he looked up at you, “Thank you.”

————

By Friday, he was a man.

Eddie skipped his morning cigarette. He wore his lucky Metallica t-shirt under his coveralls. Adrie had to beg him to release her from his powerful hug this morning, flailing her arms and pretending to choke, until the other parents in the carpool lane stared, and he relented.

He walked into the garage’s lobby with sure steps, making a quick stop behind the receptionist desk to drop off a neatly folded pile of black fabric. Then, he looked down the shadowed hallway leading to the lively break room, and he breathed deep.

You were framed by the doorway. Your back was to him, bent over the sink, just beginning to wash the coffee pot.

One thing was for certain.

If anything ever happened between you two and it didn’t pan out, work would be weird. That much he learned this week. And that was just another reason to keep his boundaries up. Another good fucking reason to apologize, turn around, and go back to being cordial work buddies, and have that be the extent of your relationship.

And yet, here he was, flirting with the ring of fire he lit himself.

Crossing his arms, he squeezed his biceps, and leaned his shoulder on the wall outside the room, mind racing as he organized the same speech he rehearsed hundreds of times this morning. “Can we talk?”

Now, the unfortunate thing about rehearsing one-sided speeches was the unpredictability of which you’d follow the script.

“If you’re here to apologize–again–for spending a runtime of 83 minutes with me because it was just that awful, I’ll scream.”

Eddie had to manually force himself to relax out of his wince. “I deserved that,” he exhaled, speaking to himself only. He deserved your stern tone, your angry way of scrubbing the pot. The stiffness between your bunched shoulders. The tight annoyance in your throat from the way he treated you.

Yesterday was a nice break from the tension, but he hadn’t yet made amends, despite the olive branch you extended to him in the form of fixing up his daughter’s costume. “What if I apologized for something else?”

“The jury’s still out on that one.”

“Good enough,” he said. “Listen, ah, I’ve been reflecting on what happened Friday, and I realized I came across like an asshole,” –He shut his eyes, and shook his head– “I was an asshole, whether I meant to be, or not. I mean, yeah, I had a lot on my mind, but that doesn’t justify my behavior in blowing you off like that, especially when you were nothing but nice to me when you saw they set us up together, and you just wanted us to have a good time.. I can tell I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”

You rinsed out the soap suds and filled the pot with water, turning off the sink.

There, he apologized, now he should turn around, and go back to being cordial work buddies.

But he was so fucking stupid.

Committing to something he may come to regret, he entered the break room and stopped when he came to the counter beside the sink, bending sideways to rest his arm there, and kicking out his hip. “I didn’t even get to tell you how pretty you were.”

Immediately, you angled yourself away to pull the coffee machine towards you, and poured water into the reservoir.

Eddie let out a groan as his brain caught up with his mouth. “I meant are. How pretty you are..” he spoke at your back while you still refused to acknowledge him. “I meant to say how pretty you are.”

His stomach seized. None of this was going how he planned, so.. fuck it. “I think you’re really pretty right now, actually.”

Nothing seemed louder than his quick breaths, and heart beating in his throat.

The longer you went silent, he considered getting a new job bagging groceries for the supermarket they built on Cherry Street last year.

You slotted the pot onto the hot plate, and opened the cabinet in front of you, blocking his view of you as you reached for the coffee container. But when you closed the door, he had to clench the tremble of annoyance out of his hands.

Try as you might–lips scrunched to the side, cheeks sucked in, making a big production of counting the spoonfuls of grounds you scooped into the filter basket–your smile was obvious. Obvious, and irritating; leading him on as if his advances were a worse offense than his attitude after your date.

“Fine, fine,” you sighed like you were doing him a favor. “I guess you’ve appealed to my ego enough for me to forgive you.”

“You’re the absolute worst person I’ve ever–”

“Yeah. But you think I’m pretty.”

“Whatever,” Eddie grunted, tugging a strand of hair over his mouth, embarrassed to hear his own honesty repeated back at him. “So we’re good?”

You had a sarcastic statement ready on your tongue–he saw it in how you narrowed your eyes, and tipped your head. A loftiness to the way you regarded him; all pompous and teasing and so sure he was being silly and asking questions for the sake of bothering you.

Then, you witnessed his shy quirk, and were instantly disarmed.

“Yes, Eddie, we’re good. The best of friends.. And are you sure you weren’t disappoint–”

“If you’re about to ask me if I was disappointed that you were my date for the third time, I’ll scream.”

You laughed. You tore your gaze from his fingers playing with his curls, and closed the lid of the coffee machine, but in doing so, you turned away, and you both discovered a subtle truth about him.

Eddie was the type who wanted to witness the full scope of the joy he brought on others. When he made someone laugh, he wanted to drink it all in. He wanted to observe the exact way they smiled, how far back they threw their head, if their eyes closed with mirth, if tears sprang, if they giggled to appease him, or if they were expelling a cathartic release. When he made someone happy, he leaned in to hoard the revelry, collect it, and share it. Seeking out their gaze, mirroring them to experience their pleasure first-hand. It’s what made him happy.

It caused him to encroach on their personal space subconsciously, pursuing the pride, and sense of achievement he felt when he accomplished making someone else feel good.

He stood close to you. Very close to you, studying you unabashedly, basking the pure unadulterated validation of making you smile.

You idly scratched your thumbnail over a stain on the counter. “Pretty, huh?” you mused quietly. “Is the hoodie really doin’ it for ya?” It was once black, now sun-faded and overwashed. There was a logo on the front for a random high school. Your high school, Eddie assumed. Clearly, a beloved item, and one you wore when doing craft projects, as indicated by the layers of glitter, dried paint, and burn marks from a hot glue gun marring the sleeves.

Still leaned over, he dropped his hand from his mouth, and swept his hair to one side, exposing the length of his throat. “Maybe it is.”

“Shut up,” you snorted.

“The frumpy ‘just rolled out of bed at noon and forgot to get milk at the grocery store’ look really gets me going.”

“Frumpy–?” In the middle of pressing the ON button and shoving the coffee machine into its place on the counter, you went to pin Eddie with a glare for laying the teasing remarks on thick today, but your attention drifted. Your focus found his eyes shining with slyness, and dropped your gaze to the crook of his neck, where you spied something dastardly. “How does this keep happening? Do you not look in a mirror?”

As you nagged him, you reached for his coveralls. Somehow, the collar kept managing to tuck itself on the inside, and you were at its beck and call, slipping two fingers underneath to unfurl it, coaxing it out in a long stroke over the peak of his collarbone, and down the slope of his chest, over his heart. Longer than two beats worth. The fabric was quite rolled up today. You had to slide along his lucky shirt to find the pointed end, and pull it out, laying it flat. Smoothing down the edges, and securing his tan work jacket over it. Patting them both to seal the kind gesture.

From his periphery, he watched you tend to him, and his smirk grew.

Fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“Guess I don’t look at myself too often,” he said, eyeing your hands lingering on his person–flattening your palms over his pec for a prolonged moment before retreating–and he nodded for you to follow him out of the room to your desk. He needed the extra seconds away from you to rid himself of his smugness.

Talking about the costume, he rounded to the taller side of your desk, while you sat opposite him in your chair, “Luckily it was big on her last year, so it still fits. It’s just a little short in the legs.”

“Gotcha.” You shook out the bat wings and rubbed the fuzzy material of the suit between your fingers. “Does she have room for another layer underneath? Warm pajamas, or something? The temperature’s supposed to drop tonight. I think a cold front is coming in.”

“Yeah, there’s room.”

“Okie dokie.” You cracked your knuckles and looked at him expectantly. He raised his eyebrows. You raised yours higher. You made a more obvious face. He made a confused one back at you. “Dude, leave. I can’t work with you watching me.”

He curled his lip in a mocking sneer, and went to work in the garage, where–ironically–you could watch him.

~~~

Turns out, you were serious about the double standards of your relationship.

Eddie caught you sneaking glances in his direction whenever he’d wheel out from underneath a car, or when he was bent over the engine of a truck, but as soon as he took his sweet time locating his favorite socket wrench from the tool cabinet (that most definitely wasn’t already in his back pocket), you blocked your project with your body and moved your lips like you were telling him off.

And when he knocked on the glass to gesture for more clean rags from the supply closet, you scrambled to hide the felt shapes you were cutting out, and sent a tube of glitter paint rolling across the lobby.

Even as he relaxed into the plush seat of his car after a long day of work, and the rumble of the engine soothed his mind from exterior worries, his eyes traveled from the bright red stop light swaying in the wind, to the custom crimson interior of his Dodge Omni Shelby, to the pile of black fabric next to him.

He drove with one hand on the wheel. He could just.. take a peek at what the hell you were doing all day.

“Don’t even think about peeking! It’s a surprise. I want Adrie to see it first, and then you can look when she’s trying it on.”

He snatched his wandering fingers away from the bat wing and cupped them around his inner thigh–his usual place for resting them.

~~~

When he opened the door to his trailer, the little lady of the hour came running at him full-speed.

“There’s my facehugger!” Eddie announced through his laugh, stepping backwards to soften the blow of her enthusiasm. And yeah, maybe he shouldn’t refer to his daughter as a parasitic alien from a horror franchise, but the clinginess comparison was accurate.

Adrienne made her immediate attempt to climb him known–clutching onto the hem of his work jacket, and shaking it. “Daddy!” she demanded, making grabby hands at him.

“Hold on, hold on.” He knelt to her level, and promised to pick her up in a few minutes if she exhibited an ounce of patience. “You remember that nice lady from work you drew pictures with?” Thinking about it, she twisted back and forth with excess energy, and gave a big nod, pressing her fingers along her smile. “Well, she heard your costume wasn’t up to your standards, so she wanted to make your Halloween extra special this year. She worked on this all day..” he said slowly, drawing out the grand reveal.

True to his word, Eddie unfolded the outfit he had clutched under his arm, and held it out in front of him, showing it to her first and watching her reaction.

Uncle Wayne opened the bathroom door in the midst of tidying up his beard, dragging a towel around his neck to wipe away the excess shaving cream. Interested in the commotion, and especially curious as to why the person he referred to as his own granddaughter was currently running around the coffee table screaming at the top of her lungs, he questioned anyone who could hear him, “What’s all this goin’ on?”

“The lady at work made my bat costume pretty–Look!” Adrie tugged on the bottom of Wayne’s flannel.

“I see,” he said, vaguely recalling the young receptionist she was referring to. He raised his eyebrows at Eddie. “She did all that?”

He shrugged. “She’s nice.”

Too excited, Adrie unzipped the back of the jumpsuit and climbed in while Eddie held it open. Still, he did not peep at the finished product. Not until every foot wiggled out of the appropriate amount of leg holes, and every sleeve found a hand.

Adrienne walked backwards into the living room and struck a pose with her arms out, flapping them.

Wayne ‘aww’d and clapped.

Eddie sat back on his calves, mouth slightly agape.

You really were nice.

The costume was magnificent. The black fleece was painted with thin strokes of white paint to give the illusion of hair, with special attention around the turtleneck collar where you glued white faux fur into a short mane. Cleverly, the pants were extended with layers of iridescent tulle that caught the light in shimmery rainbows, disguising how short they were on her.

The wings themselves were works of art. Showstoppers. Instead of hanging limp from under her arms, you had used flexible plastic to create bones, giving them some structure.

They were exactly what Adrie wanted. Silver glitter served as a mere backdrop to the myriad of foil stars glued to the fabric. As one’s attention panned downwards, they grew in size and frequency, until there was a disco ball amount of flash and pizzazz. To top it all off, there were felt clouds and crescent moons dangling on strings from the bottom. The stuffed and stitched celestial motifs swung with Adrie’s grand gestures.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Wayne picked up two little black triangles that bounced onto the carpet when Eddie revealed the costume. “C’mere, Adrie,” he said, holding them up to her head. “You’ve got two little ears on barrettes, too.”

“Jesus,” Eddie exhaled.

His next breath caught in his throat. He discovered why you snipped the fabric where it was previously attached to the suit, and gave it an extra bone structure to wrap around.

It was so he could slip his arms around his daughter, and hug her tight without any impediments. “You like it, yeah?”

She threw her arms around his neck, and imbued all her surprise into her little voice, “Are you kidding me? It’s my favorite–the best costume ever! I love it.”

“We’ll have to find a way to thank her when I see her on Monday.”

The hug lasted until Eddie’s knees ached. Still, he clung to her as one clung to a lifesaver. He passed his palm over her hair. He stroked his thumb on the back of her head. He pressed her into the darkness against his throat. He squeezed her to conceal the way he shook. If anyone were to notice the secret of his actions, it would be the person who raised him as one would raise their own son.

Wayne walked over and ruffled his nephew’s hair.

~~~

Later, after Adrie had gone to bed, Eddie confessed, “That took me so off guard, I almost cried. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me, or Adrie, in years.. I mean, outside of everything you do for us. And Steve, too. I just didn’t expect her to put that much effort into a costume.. Or to care that much.”

“I know, son,” Wayne said, patting him on the knee as they sat on the couch, lit by the muted earthy tones of the local news channel. “She seems real nice.”

————

It was a howling Halloween night.

Eddie pulled off the main road into the nice neighborhood on the west side of Hawkins. Everyone knew you went to the rich houses on Halloween, as evident by the agonizing minutes it took to find a place to park, while Adrie was oblivious and just wanted out of her car seat.

Crowds swarmed the doors handing out the best candy. Groups of friends gathered in the streets. Kids ran down the sidewalk to ogle the elaborate decorations. “Is the entire population here, or somethin’?” Eddie grumbled, shifting the gear stick into park.

Once Adrie was out, he asked her, “Do you wanna stop by a few houses on the way to Steve’s?” She eyed the rowdy bigger kids pushing each other on their way up the driveway next to her, and she held out her hand for Eddie to take as a silent answer.

When she was with her friends, she was outgoing, but in this unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers in the dark, she needed her dad to guide her.

“You’ll feel better once we have some candy in your bucket,” he promised, swinging the orange jack-o-lantern pail back and forth.

In reality, Eddie dreaded this part. Hated it. Going up to houses, knocking on doors, glancing away the second they were answered. He dressed differently. Tried to blend into the back of a big group. Kept his gaze on his daughter shying behind his legs, speaking for her, and hoping her cuteness distracted the adults from taking too close of a look at him. Shuffling away before they could recognize him, remember his last name, and make that same face they always did:

Barely concealed disgust.

Eddie held her hand for several streets until she felt comfortable going up to doors without him, thanks to finding a friend or two from preschool. Those parents were easier. Some he’d gotten to know over the last two years due to birthday parties and school events. Yet, they returned his greeting out of politeness. Waited on the sidewalk like him, but at a distance; in a circle, not inviting him to their grown-up talk.

That’s okay. He felt less alone when Adrie came jogging back to show him her candy. And although she insisted she was a big girl and didn’t need to hold his hand anymore, she walked as if she were glued to his side, three steps to his one stride.

“I don’t need you, Daddy.”

“Yeah, you do.”

On and on, they made their way up the streets, and came upon a white-picket fence dwelling sat modestly between two larger statements, right as the porch light turned off and a group of people left the home.

Fate was a funny thing.

Steve held the gate open for Nancy and whispered something in her ear as she passed, earning a withered glare before she turned and the moon caught the smile flitting across her lips. Behind her, dashing from the shadows, was their son. He held his plastic sword high above his head, and gave a brave battle cry against the person who emerged next.

Robin, also dressed as a pirate, jumped from the top of the stairs and clashed her sword with his. They tussled on their way to the fence, stopping when she feigned a dramatic death, and had to chase down her tricorn hat from rolling into the street.

Eddie’s hand was sweating–Adrie said so with a yuckiness to her words as she ran to join Steve’s son and their group of trick-or-treaters, leaving him behind to stare. And stare. And stare. And try not to burst into a grin.

He wouldn’t have to wait ‘til Monday to thank you.

Step by step, you helped their daughter teeter down the stairs. Patiently holding her hand, encouraging her to the bottom, and brought her to Steve, who was getting out the stroller from the trunk of his car.

“No! I’m–I.. Will walk,” their little girl finished in a disjointed manner, engrossed by the array of bedsheet ghosts, lispy vampires, and corn-syrup-blood-covered werewolves moving around her.

“Yeah, okay, kid,” Steve said sarcastically. “You wanna be a big girl and walk on your own, but we both know after two houses you’re gonna be begging for the stroller.”

Like most girls, she brushed him off, and turned to you for assistance with her jacket. The puffy orange snow suit hindered her movements; her walk was a waddle, and her arms stuck out from her sides helplessly. She was warm, though.

You, on the other hand, were dressed in what Eddie could only call an adult onesie. A fitted one; hugging you in places he shouldn’t notice it hugging you while you were squatting down to zip up her jacket, but a onesie, nonetheless.

“There we go.” He heard you say from where he stood, roughly a car-length away, lurking in the darkness like a creep.

But he’d have to find a way to repent later. His fate tapped you on the shoulder, and his heart set the tempo for his plucky courage’s passion.

“Adrie!” you squealed at her. She greeted you with equal fervor. “Your costume is so, so pretty!” Without a second thought, you bent over, put your hands on your thighs, and asked while waggling your eyebrows, “Wanna fly?”

“Yeah!”

Adrie unveiled her full glittery wingspan, and you clasped her under her arms, instructing her to jump. Up she went. You raised her above you to your full extent and spun in circles. Giggly, messy circles. Showing her off for everyone to see. Parading her for the slew of compliments coming from onlookers. And when your strength tired, you brought her to your hip, and held her tight, still spinning. Dizzy, silly twirls. Savoring the closeness of your foreheads almost touching.

You slowed to stop to scan the scene around you, searching the shapeless night. “Where’s your dad, hmm?”

She pointed behind you.

Over your shoulder, your gazes connected in between a family dressed as Peanuts characters.

Eddie raised his hand, but forgot to move it back and forth.

Your face brightened. The love you showed Adrie reflected in your eyes when you found him. Smiling bigger, somehow, at his stupid wave when he remembered how to perform one.

“Nice costume,” you teased, sauntering up to him with a swagger. “Light-wash blue jeans instead of black. How different.”

“Yeah, and what are you? A cat? So creative.” He meant it as an insult to your gray onesie with a tan belly, but he was the one who followed your quick glance at his stupid hand still waving like an utter moron, and he stuffed his fists in his pockets, wondering if he’d ever recover his dignity after this encounter.

“Uh, I’m clearly a mouse,” you drawled, inclining your head to show off your rounded mouse ears on your headband.

Adrie copied your exact tone and inflection to serve as a gut punch, “Yeah, Daddy, she’s clearly a mouse.”

His greatest fear mocked him. With Adrie on your hip, and your two matching smirks taunting him with your cheeks pressed to one another, he shook his head, and pinched his eyebrows up in worried exasperation. “I don’t need two of you.” A revelation he should take more seriously as you looked at Adrie, and you both giggled. Tips of your noses grazing. Hugging you around your neck. Touching your animal ears and calling you ‘Miss Mouse.’ Thanking you for her costume, and you asked, seeking her genuine approval as you fitted one of her tiny hands in yours to stretch a wing out.

“You like it?”

“I love it!”

You swayed with her in the new position, resembling two people slow dancing despite there being no background music other than shrieks of laughter, and a chorus of “trick-or-treat!”

Yeah, this feeling in his chest was evolving past the boundaries.

Shit.

Eventually you had to support her with two arms again, thus ending your waltz, and you remembered Eddie was there, and Eddie remembered to direct his tender expression at his daughter.

“So, really,” you said, nudging his white tennis shoes and giving him a once-over, “Who’re you supposed to be? A grumpy guy who couldn’t be bothered? A wet blanket?” You leaned in. “Don’t tell me you’re dressed as a stick in the mud for the second week in a row. That’s just gauche, Eddie.”

Adrie latched onto one word specifically. She pointed at him with all her might, and declared, “Grumpy! You’re Grumpy.”

“Great,” he groaned. Yet, there was not a trace of annoyance tugging at his lips–just his tongue poking through as his daughter reduced him to an unpleasant character. “Tell her what movie you watched this morning.”

“I watched Snow White with grandpa,” she said. You gave an understanding ‘ahh.’ “Grandpa is Sneezy. Daddy is Grumpy. You can be..”

“I’ll be Dopey.”

Eddie snorted, “Fitting.” You cut him a soft frown, and he shifted his focus back to his daughter. Eye contact with you was too difficult. He felt exposed. Vulnerable. A single longing look gave away too much, he had to put an end to them. “You think I’m Grumpy, huh?”

She jabbed her finger at him again. “You! Most definitely are.”

The immediate flash of devilry in his eyes was her only warning. “What’d I tell you about pointing at people?” He snatched her wrist in a weak grasp, and lunged at her, snapping his teeth, pretending to bite her finger off with a smile. She scream-laughed and buried her face in your shoulder.

“Aw, it’s okay, Adrie,” you consoled her, “I always knew he was a biter. Lemme count your fingers, ‘nd make sure you have all six.”

“Six?” she cried.

Besotted by your willingness to indulge his humor, Eddie lost track of his inhibitions, and acted on a deep-rooted impulse from his youth, when he was more expressive of his urges. He crept in close while you were busy doting over Adrie, and lowered his face to where he was allowed to whisper in a deeper register, “Hey, no picking on my kid. That’s my job.” To make matters worse, he reached for your side, aimed for your ribs through the single layer of fleece, and prodded. It was a success. You yelped. You were ticklish. Another trait to add to the list of things he shouldn’t know about you.

Steve’s bafflement pierced the rambunctious Jedi fight happening in the middle of the road, “Are you three gonna catch up, or do I need to make you get in the wagon?” he threatened. Sure enough, he was hauling a red wagon of someone else’s kids behind him dressed as various dinosaurs, complete with masks.

More parents had joined the trick-or-treat cavalry, milling about on the sidewalk, waiting for Adrie before they knocked on the next house. You recognized this quicker than Eddie, and offered to take her by, well, simply walking off with her in your arms.

For the first block he was alone with his thoughts. Watching you go from house to house holding his daughter’s hand. Sitting back while you took over for him, and lessened his burdens. When it was you crouched next to Adrie, smiling up at the adults with buckets of candy, they didn’t see Munson. They saw a cute little girl and her supposed mom participating in innocent fun.

“Hey, bud,” Steve said, swinging around to his side, tossing an arm around his shoulders, and shaking him. Eddie could sense the subject he was about to bring up from his consoling squeeze alone. “So, how goes the whole ‘not falling in love’ thing?”

Eddie had his correction at the ready, “I said ‘attached,’ not ‘fall in love.’”

Steve gave him a long, hard stare.

“And I said it was Adrie I was worried about getting attached.”

Steve deepened his stare.

Eddie looked away, then back, then away again. He was quiet for a few strained moments, shuffling his feet while the kids thanked a woman dressed as a witch for her cauldron of candy, and his passing gaze lingered on the Mouse holding his daughter’s hand.

You glanced in his direction, where he stayed on the outskirts of the group, and suppressed a giggle. You were listening to Adrie and her friend’s story about mermaids with full interest, asking questions, and gasping at the information they were disclosing, acting as if they knew the world’s secrets and deemed you worthy of its knowledge.

It was sweet. Endearing, adorable, attractive in the worst ways, and exactly the sort of fun Adrie craved that he couldn’t provide when he was overworked, tired, and stressed to the point of crying frustrated tears.

Except, of course, those bad days had become less and less since you started working at the auto shop..

Eddie surrendered. “How does it look like it’s going?”

“Like you're happier when she’s around,” Steve replied.

“Real good that’s doin’ me.”

They had reached the end of the street, and waited to cross at the stop sign.

Steve shrugged, and said, “I think it’s cute you finally found someone to have a crush on–Ow!” He clutched his side where Eddie elbowed him.

He hissed, “Not so loud,” even though you were several feet away, and talking animatedly with Robin.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s precious.” Lifting his chin, Steve alluded to the way you picked up Adrie and herded the other children across the road like sheep. “Y’know, you were right about her saying ‘yes’ to everything. Her and Robin have some wild stories. Did you know someone came up to them at one of those sleazy hole-in-the-wall bars and asked them to perform on stage–like, obviously meaning you know, stripping–but she accepted his offer, and that’s how they started doing stand up together? Yeah, they just went up there and started shouting jokes at all the drunks. Dodging beer being thrown at them, and whatever. Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, real fun,” Eddie muttered with a horrified expression, wondering how you managed to survive this long with your absurd policy.

“Anyway,” Steve surmised. “I think you should go for it.”

The mood shifted instantly. Eddie’s face went lax, aside from his flared nostrils. He spoke firmly, “I can’t do that, man.”

“Why not?” When Eddie refused to elaborate with a scornful shake of his head, and sudden tenseness to his jaw, Steve softened his nature. He tightened his hold on him in a make-shift hug, and requested, “Talk it out with me. Tell me what you’re going through, and what you want out of this, because you sure do flirt a lot for someone who keeps denying themselves a real relationship.”

“I don’t know what the fuck I want anymore,” he exhaled in mind, body, and spirit. Just a complete depletion of all his anxieties under the weight of Steve’s arm.

Eddie ran his tongue along the back of his bottom teeth while he observed you crouch in someone’s driveway to make a case for Halloween themed pencils, and how they may not be exciting as candy, but there were bats on them, and Adrienne liked bats, therefore, the pencils were cool.

The anxieties were replaced with the blooming realization of how deep his crush went, and the stab of reality pierced the good feelings.

“There’s a million reasons why it’s a bad idea,” Eddie sighed, and gathered his thoughts to list them out as succinctly as possible. “Uh, let’s see. First of all, we’re coworkers, and this week has already been a real glimpse into how this would all pan out if I took the risk and things didn’t work out.”

Steve rocked his head to the side. “Fair, but it’s pretty obvious she likes you too, with how she flirts back.”

“Perfect segue. Okay, so maybe she does like me. But does she like me? And does she like Adrie? Can’t have one without the other. And, man, she made it clear at the movies that she doesn’t even ask if her dates have kids, because there’s never been a second one–a second date, I mean. She’s that casual about it.”

“Why not try something casual, then?”

“When have I ever approached anything casually in my life?”

“You raise a good point there,” Steve answered, shivering at the sudden uptick in frigid gusts biting through his thick jacket.

You and Robin pulled off to the side so your gaggle of kids could take turns stomping on crunchy brown leaves before they blew away.

Ensuring they were at a good distance to watch, but not be overheard, Steve kept his voice low, “What else?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Gee, I dunno, how about the fact she hates this place, and is going to leave eventually? Hate to break it to you, but even if she likes me like that, and even if things worked out for a while, I’m not ready to explain to Adrie why the nice lady she loves so much doesn’t come around anymore.”

“So make her stay around.”

“What?”

Shrugging with that stupid grin of his, Steve explained, nonchalant and lackadaisical, “You said she says ‘yes’ to everything. So just ask her to stay.”

Leaning into it, Eddie pulled an overjoyed face, and threw his arms up, gesticulating overdramatically. “Okay! Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just ask her to marry me, then she’ll be forced to stay in this hellhole with me forever. What a grand idea!”

Steve’s full-bodied laugh sent them both doubling over. “Okay, stud, going straight for marriage. It was just a suggestion that maybe she’s over the crazy party-til-dawn city life, and is looking for.. whatever it is you’ve got.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm. Easing out of his glare, he broke himself out of considering Steve’s validation as anything more than an audible feedback loop of the things he wanted to hear, and not the facts he needed to hear. “Doesn’t matter. She could like me, she could not. She could want kids, she could not. She could stay, she could not. I still have to see her every day, regardless. There’s not a lot of other options out there for me, and even if she didn’t want the city life anymore, I don’t think she’s gunning for the single dad whose biggest aspiration is getting a trailer of his own, so his uncle can have his room back.”

Cynicism, cynicism, cynicism. Denial.

Steve’s mouth twisted, and he became serious. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“It’s true, though.”

Ahead, a guy caught Steve’s attention and signaled that it was his turn again on wagon duty, which was the perfect excuse to make his exit because you were standing on your tip-toes, seeking out Eddie in the sea of Stormtroopers. You spotted him and waved with childlike glee, making your way over.

Steve’s hair fell into his eyes as he drew Eddie in. “One last piece of advice,” he began, gaze set on the side of his friend’s face, accepting not even he could win over his attention when it came to existing in the same universe as you. “If you’re serious about not pursuing her, maybe stop looking like you’re gonna blow your load every time she smiles at you.”

Eddie sputtered, “Jesus Christ, dude.”

With that last remark to recover from, Eddie was forced to rearrange his pale face into anything remotely appropriate while Steve got to stroll away as if nothing happened.

“Uh, hey,” he said, eyes scared wide, and showing too many teeth in his tight smile under your scrutiny.

You brought your hand up, and stepped into him until your chests were nearly together. Cocking your head, you pointed at something over yonder, and slowly, unwillingly, he stopped analyzing the nuances of your face to look at the group of kids at the house across the street. One kid in particular. Dressed in black, and with six additional arms dangling from his two human ones.

You couldn’t keep the sheer triumph out of your voice, “That spider is certainly bigger than your palm.”

He winced as if your joke physically pained him. He curled in on himself, and depleted himself of oxygen to groan a long, contemptuous, “So lame,” stressing both words to exaggerate his misery. Shaking his head as if his grievance was anything other than a ploy to discover what it felt like to reject reality, and satiate the envy he felt when Adrie got to be this close to you. Foreheads almost together. Noses almost grazing.

As if your hand trapped between your bodies was anything other than a ploy to rest the backs of your fingers on his chest as you laughed. As you leaned into him. As you tugged on his sweatshirt underneath his leather jacket, begging him to give in until, at last, he broke.

Eddie laughed with you, recklessly.

“Did you really abandon my kid to run over here and tell me that?”

“She’s safe with Bobbie,” you promised in a whisper. “And yes, I did.”

Leaf-shaped shadows danced across you both, cast from the orange glow of the streetlamp above. Autumnal bare branches, electric wires, swaying in the wind, revealing your faces in quick pieces; a wrinkled forehead here, contours of a nose there. Flashes of a puzzle you both collected and assembled in the scarce seconds before it was time to move on to the next house.

You crossed your arms tight over yourself and walked beside him, smiling at the ground.

“How’ve you enjoyed your Halloween experience?” he asked, swinging his arms wide to gesture at Hawkins in general. “I’m sure it’s a lot different than what you’re used to.”

“Oh, I love it!” you said in earnest, surrounded by all the things you’d only seen on screen before. “It’s just like the movies. Trick-or-treating, little kids running around in costumes, the weather, the decorations. It’s surreal. Usually I’d be drunk in a nightclub by now.”

Furrowing his brow, he looked upwards as if he were reading a nonexistent clock, and asked with a twinge of parental disapproval, “Isn’t it, like, 8PM?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, unperturbed. Too impassive to put him at ease. Like you were lording a secret over him. “Don’t act like you weren’t the same before you had Adrie.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Harrington’s been telling me stories about you,” you informed him, and rolled your bottom lip inward, biting it as he zeroed in on your cheeky grin getting a rise out of him.

He squinted at you. “Calling him Harrington, huh? Well, aren’t you two chummy.” Mentally rolling a Nat 20 for Stealth, he lifted his hand to your side without you noticing. “What’d he tell you?”

You made an ‘X’ over your mouth with your fingers.

The perfect position to leave yourself open for attack. I mean, the opportunity presented itself so splendidly, how could he not? How could he resist the greatest temptation?

His impending threat continued to go undetected. Giving you one last chance, he dipped his face to yours–relishing how the apples of your cheeks intruded on your eyes when you smiled this hard, forcing them to scrunch closed–and he asked, “What did he tell you?”

“I’m not repeating!” you giggled.

Oh, you were giggling all right. And in the next gasp, you were squealing, jerking away from him.

Eddie was merciless. His large hands proved too difficult to escape. He poked, prodded. Tickled you until his every, “Tell me, tell me, tell me,” was met with your, “Stop, stop, stop, please!” You fought him fruitlessly, grappling at his forearms, and failing to do little more than slip against his sleeves. He cackled at you. Mocked you with the tip of his tongue to his teeth each time you thought you got away, only to be caught again. You resisted. Resisted. Persevered in the face of evil–knocking your forehead into his chin on accident. Eddie thought you would’ve caved by now, but it was him who stopped; and not because of the unwanted attention your antics drew.

You pried him away from your ribs.

“You’re freezing!” Eddie’s mood changed on a dime at feeling your frigid fingers on top of his. He shifted so that he was enveloping your hands, encasing you in his warmth in exchange for the cold seeping to his bones.

“Yeah,” you answered sheepishly.

“You made a fuss about reminding me to put Adrie in extra layers, but you’re not wearing a jacket?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, distorting your grin. “Yeah.”

“You’re irresponsible, you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“A real bad example.”

“Yeah.”

“An absolute pain in my ass.” Eddie grinned with you. Eyelids falling half-closed. Searing your skin with his heat. Enacting the subtle art of asking questions for the sake of prolonging the moment. Not like it was obvious, given you readily accepted his fingers curled around yours with a coy glint to your gaze. Totally discreet as he let go to shrug off his jacket and hand it over.

Obliging him, you raised your eyebrows. “What a gentleman.” You slid your arms into the sleeves, snuggled into his blanketing warmth, and tugged the collar over your mouth, rendering yourself to a pair of pretty eyes.

He was a goner.

“Tell me what Harrington said.”

“Okay,” you indulged him, breath coming out as a fog. “He said..” You were back to giggling behind the collar, remembering the story. “He said one time at a party there was this big watermelon keg he spent all day working on.” Eddie pressed his lips into a line, knowing where this was going. “He scooped out the innards. Spent painstaking hours cutting up fruit to put inside it and soak up all the rum. And then you wandered in. Already hammered, and you, you–” You snickered and peeled back the collar. “You knocked it over within ten seconds of walking in the kitchen, smashing it everywhere like a crime scene.” You hid behind the collar again, then opened it, voice gone high-pitched with suppressed laughter. “And he said you panicked, and tried to scoop it up in your hands and put it in people’s cups!” More laughter. “And when they said ‘no’ because it was fucking gross floor juice, you tried eating all the fruit yourself.” One more hide and seek of the collar as you lost it in a final squeak, “And you cried!”

He waited until you calmed down to show how thrilled he was in a deadpan tone, “Great, great. I’m so glad he told you that one.”

“It certainly conjures an image.”

Thinking the conversation was over, you took a step in the direction of your trick-or-treat group, but something caught your eye. You tilted your head. He mirrored you, tilting it the same way. You shuffled to the side. He turned with you, more, more towards the streetlamp. Curious as to what you were doing, and why you were staring at his chest, mouthing something.

“What’s Corroded Coffin?”

“Uh–It’s–It’s nothing,” Eddie said a bit too loud, wiping at his sweatshirt like the self-printed logo was a crumb he could discard himself of.

Fortunately, a wild Adrienne appeared, interrupting him from making a bigger fool of himself. “My hands are cold. Can I have my gloves?”

Eddie glided his hands over his stomach out of habit, and realized his pockets weren’t there. Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of his jacket, and yanked you to him, spinning you, manhandling you. Forcing you to catch yourself on his braced muscles–shoulder to his chest, hip to a place he’d rather not dwell on. Not gentlemanly at all.

You released a string of flustered remarks, and pushed away from him, making it appear to be a benign accident in front of his daughter.

“Here,” he said to Adrie, holding the black mittens above her head, out of her reach.

She jumped, and jumped, and stomped. “Daddy,” she whined.

Dusting yourself off from the previous encounter, you agreed, “You’re so cruel, bullying your own child.”

“She knows the magic words,” he led on.

“Please!” She jumped higher, huffing and puffing.

“And?”

“And thank you!”

He relented. His evil reign came to an end. First, the tickling, now, the height advantage over a little girl. He gave Adrie the mittens and she stuck her tongue out at him before bolting off faster than lightning.

It was you turn to poke a stern finger into his ribs. “Awful, awful man,” you scolded him. Unlucky for you, he wasn’t ticklish there, nor was he ashamed of any of his actions these past few minutes. He might come to regret them when you move back to New York and these were the memories he was left with, but he wasn’t ashamed.

No, not ashamed to overstep the boundaries he resurrected in pursuit of happiness. If only a little. Enough to feel the thrill of danger, but remain safe inside his walls.

Casual.

You liked casual.

Fuck what he said earlier. He could keep it casual. He could handle innocent flirting without it getting out of hand.

“We should probably catch up with everyone before they send Scooby and the gang to search for us,” you said, walking backwards, throwing your thumb over your shoulder.

He snorted. “Terrible joke. Are you sure you were a comedian?”

You answered him with two middle fingers, which you promptly put away. Adrie came running back after just one house, hunched over, dragging her feet; hair a loose mess, barrettes dangling. Displaying all the theatrics of her father.

She made grabby hands at you. Not him. And before he could voice his hurt, you scooped her into your arms, and she rested her chin on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he complained weakly, walking up to you from behind so he could take the treat bucket before it spilled, and talk to Adrie directly. “You told me you were a big girl who could walk on her own, and didn’t need to be held.” Her refute was a babbling grumble laced with fatigue.

Speaking to you, he said, “You don’t have to carry her.”

“I don’t mind. I think they only want to do a few more houses before we head back. Do you wanna join?”

At first, Eddie was quiet, and you spun in a slow circle to see him, catching the end of his wistful expression at the rich neighborhood and its opulent houses owned by affluent people who heard a rumor or two about Munson, and decided he wasn’t worth more than their wary glances when his kid played with theirs.

“Nah, I’m good over here.” He ran his hand over the back of Adrie’s head, and relaxed his stance, staying put.

“Let me help ya out there, Cool Guy,” you said, motioning for him to bend to you. You picked a narrow, apple-red leaf out of his tangled hair, and flicked it away.

“How long has that been there?”

Shrugging your mouth to disguise your beaming grin, you feigned ignorance while walking away. “Who’s to say?”

To further exacerbate his embarrassment into genuine distress, after two Mummies answered the door, and you were coming down the sidewalk, he saw you pull off the side for Steve to pass with the stroller, and you laid your cheek on the top of Adrie’s head. You whispered something in her ear. Something most intriguing, on account of her coming to life, no longer sleepy. The exchange was short; her asking a question, and you answering. But as you nodded with heavy-lidded eyes, and she pressed her fingers to her smile, you both turned, looked at him, and giggled.

Eddie gulped.

He didn’t like this new feeling of you two sharing secrets about him. Especially ones he couldn’t threaten out of you, no matter how many times he put his hands on your ribs.

~~~

As the evening came to a close, Eddie carried Adrie on his hip while you lugged her bucket of sweets. The plastic handle bowed from the weight of the candy, and your fingertips went numb from the burden. And maybe for your troubles, you took a piece. Or two.

The group petered out until it was left to the core of you returning to Steve’s house. The goodbyes were truncated due to the three sleepy kids in tow. You handed off the bucket to Eddie, first asking if he was sure he didn’t need help getting to his car, and when he assured you he was fine, you squeezed Adrie’s ankle and whispered a goodbye she didn’t hear, too lost in Dreamland and drooling on her dad’s shoulder to know the night was over.

He said he’d see you Monday and parted ways, walking in the opposite direction, and you waited at the white-picket fence gate for Robin to stop swapping sneaky peeks at Steve and Nancy to join you.

“Bobbie, I know you don’t want me driving.”

She made eyes at Nancy one last time, and descended the porch stairs at a leisurely pace. “Yeah, we can leave.”

~~~

The drive home was a welcomed respite after the constant overstimulation. The radio was set to low, the heater caressed warmth along your wind-burnt cheeks, the headlights spotlighted deer grazing on the sides of the lonely road. Robin kept lofting soft smiles in your direction, which you returned.

Parking at her parent’s house, you closed the car door behind you, hearing it echo off the forest. The rocky driveway crunched under your shoes on your way to the door. The porch light was on, elongating your shadows across the ground, following you step by step.

“So, you and Eddie, huh?” Robin asked, turning the key in the lock.

You snapped to attention, schooling your features from giving you away. “Just friends,” you reiterated at her suggestive tone. “Just friends and coworkers. He’s dropped more than enough hints that he’s not looking for more.” You finished in more of a sigh, “Not with me, anyway.”

“Is that so?”

Her lopsided smirk struck undesired hope in your heart.

Robin pushed open the door, and curled in her forefinger to tap her knuckle on her upper lip. She dropped her gaze to your general upper body, and hummed, “You, uh.. forget something?”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh–”

————

Eddie dropped his shoulders back expecting to feel something slide down his arms. Then, he patted his chest, and realized. “–Shit.” He stared at his coat hook next to the front door where his leather jacket usually hung, and reprimanded himself in a soft laugh. “Guess I’ll have to get it back on Monday.”

“How much candy can I have?” Adrienne asked, dumping out her bucket on the coffee table, and scrambling to pick up the Tootsie Rolls that fell on the floor. She began sorting into piles of most favorite to least favorite.

“One,” Eddie stated sternly.

He turned on the TV and sat on the couch, decompressing while Adrie cackled over her hoard like Smaug. He should’ve known something was up when she wouldn’t stop giggling to herself.

His suspicions were answered when she turned around to show him the one piece she picked out–perfectly following his rules.

“Uh, absolutely not!” Eddie swiped it from her. “Seriously, who gives out full size Snickers bars on Halloween?”

“But, Daddy, you said!”

Leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs, he demanded her attention before the pitiful crocodile tears started. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said, and reached past her for a mini Musketeers to compare. “You can have the Snickers, but you have to share half with me. See, half is still bigger than one of these little ones, so you’ll still be coming out of this a winner. ‘Kay?” She nodded and went to grab it. “But! I don’t want any tantrums when I tell you it’s bath time.” Again, she agreed and he reeled the candybar back into himself, away from her quick fingers. “And! You have to brush your teeth after.”

“I will,” she promised with a deep frown.

“And you still have to go to bed at the normal time.”

Pushing her hair out of her face, she dropped her head in another big nod.

Eddie was satisfied and went to give it to her. But another thought crossed his mind–one of true luxury–and the allure of the idea proved too good to ignore.

Much to her dismay, he snatched the candybar away before she could get a good grasp on it, and he deepened his voice to show he was serious, “And I want to shower. Ten minutes. Uninterrupted.”

She groaned at the ceiling at his never ending list of rules. “Fine!”

~~~

Riding his tingly feel-good high, Eddie opened the bathroom door to let the steam out, and toweled off the fog on the medicine cabinet mirror. He took out his comb and scissors, and sectioned out his bangs.

Brunette snips of wet hair fell in triangles onto his white tank top and around the sink. It wasn’t a noticeable trim, just enough to get them off his eyebrows when dried.

With some amount of clarity, he looked his reflection in the eye as he evened out the cut, and didn’t know if he should be wearing the faint smile he did, or if he should listen to his better judgment, and stop making modifications to his barriers.

He knew you deserved a better life than what Hawkins could offer, but he could enjoy the innocent workplace flirtations, right? They were harmless. Little compliments here and there to boost his confidence. That’s all it was. It’s not like you actually found him attractive, right? You’d been on enough dates to know what to say to a guy. That’s all.

Though, he did need to remember to have a talk with Adrie about setting her expectations and understanding Daddy could have friends without it leading anywhere, and that was okay.

“–some.”

Jumping, Eddie said a prayer that was not righteous, and thanked the stars he was not trimming closer to his eyes when his daughter scared him. “Jesus Christ, kid,” he exhaled.

“Handsome,” she said again.

Taken aback, he let the flattery sink in. Besides last week at the movies, he didn’t get compliments often, or at all, and to receive one now while his thoughts circled back to that familiar sting of ugliness with the way other parents looked at him tonight, Adrie’s kindness matured his grin into a real smile.

“You think I’m handsome?” he asked in a mild, quick laugh. “That’s sweet.” He leaned over the sink and worked on his bangs again, snipping up into the strands between his fingers.

“Miss–ouse does.”

“What–?” Her words were incoherent from her fingers stuffed in her mouth. “Did you say..?” He dropped the comb and scissors, and spun around, eyes set on her. Adrie released a high-pitched shriek and ran from the doorway. “Wait! Adrie! She said that? She said that about me?” He chased her into the living room, dodging back and forth around the coffee table. Duping left, right. Catching her as she made a quick escape to her bedroom. “Tell me what you said? Did Miss Mouse say that about me? Did she call me handsome?”

Try as he might, threatening to tickle her until she repeated herself, Adrienne refused to tell him the secret you whispered in her ear.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

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