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suugarbabe · 2 days ago

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Origin Stories

(part 2)

summary: baby first year matty arrives at hogwarts and the first person he interacts with seems to not know him at all. matty is unsure how to feel when someone treats him like just another person instead of the dark lords son

warnings: fluff, angst, baby matty, draco being an asshole even at 11

an: thank you @musingsofahufflepuff for reviewing and editing with me. lysm <3

Sleep did not come in the form of rest for Mattheo that night. Every time he closed his eyes he saw your face twisted in disgust, a variation of the same sentence leaving your mouth, “They told me the truth about you. You’re going to be just like your father. Nothing but a murderer. Don’t ever talk to me again Mattheo.” He woke up in a sheen of sweat, panting and trying to catch his breath.

Each intake of air felt like his lungs were shrinking; he grasped at his sleep shirt trying to feel if his heart was truly beating as quickly as it felt in his throat. The clock on his bedside table read 3:45am. Throwing back his duvet he slipped on his house loafers, glad that Feindre convinced him to take them to school. He made his way from his dorm and across the metal bridge that led to the common room.

He looked around the expansive common room, deciding on a lounge chair in front of the fire. Mattheo curled in on himself, sitting sideways in the chair and pulling his knees up. He laid his head against the back of the chair, doing his best to breathe deeply and focus on the crackling of the fire. What finally let him fall asleep was thinking about the train ride with you.

A shaking of his shoulders jolted him awake, “Andiamo, amico.” (C’mon, mate) He snapped his head up, seeing Theo Nott and Enzo Berkshire standing behind the chair. Enzo wore a toothy grin, his ears slightly peeking out from his hair; Theo almost looked concerned. Mattheo pulled the blanket tighter to his chin, though he didn’t remember having it when he fell asleep.

Theo must’ve seen his confused look, speaking up again, “I noticed you weren’t in bed when I woke up to use the bathroom last night so I brought you down your covers.” Enzo nodded like he was involved with the interaction, “You should probably go get dressed, we’re going to go to breakfast and then explore the castle to see where our lessons are.”

Mattheo still didn’t speak, instead looking briefly between the two boys. “We’ll wait for you compagno,” Theo sat down on the sofa next to Mattheo’s chair. Enzo nodded enthusiastically, following suit and sitting beside the taller boy. Mattheo silently gathered his blanket, making his way to his dorm.

He threw his blanket back on his bed before heading to his trunk, digging for a pair of trousers and casual shirt. Students had two free days to roam the castle and the grounds before classes were to begin and Mattheo decided he was going to take full advantage of not having to wear a uniform.

The door to the bathroom opened, Draco walking out and fixing his dress shirt in his trousers. He glanced at Mattheo as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, running both hands through his curls to fluff them slightly. Mattheo could hear the sneer in Draco’s tone as he spoke, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Mattheo didn’t even give him a glance, “Do you have a problem with what I’m wearing, cousin?” Draco let out an annoyed sigh, “Auntie Bella would kill you if she saw you in that.” Mattheo grabbed his wand from his night stand, grip knuckle white but avoiding actually pointing it at his family member, “Well my mother isn’t here, is she.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Whatever, let’s just go to breakfast. Theo and Enzo are already there.” Mattheo didn’t bother to tell him they were waiting downstairs. He personally wasn’t sure if they were doing it to be nice or if they were just trying to stay on Mattheo’s good side.

It was hard for him to assess who was being genuine with him versus who was trying to placate him due to his “title”. He didn’t get that feeling with you.

Mattheo followed Draco toward the common room, Theo and Enzo still sitting on the sofa where Mattheo left them. “Thought you two were headed to breakfast,” Draco questioned the soon to be dynamic duo on the sofa. “Waitin’ for Matt,” Theo nodded briefly towards Mattheo who couldn’t explain why his cheeks were warming slightly. “Yeah, Blaisey boy is saving us a spot,” Enzo gave a boyish grin.

“You know he’d curse you if he heard you call him that,” Theo fixed the strings on his tracksuit as they started towards the great hall. Enzo shrugged his shoulders, “That’s what his mum called him on the platform. And he can’t curse me, he doesn’t know any yet.”

Mattheo never knew how to interact with the back and forth. Never quite felt comfortable with joking with the rest of the boys growing up because his mother always told him that they were not his friends, they were his future followers.

“Yeah but you’re not his mother, Enzo. And we all know a few curses, you know that. Our parents made sure of it,” Theo was giving a playful tone but his words held true. They all knew it.

Entering the large doorway to the hall Draco spotted Blaise first. The latter boy had chosen a spot in damn near the middle of the table and Mattheo felt his stomach knotting again. He knew people were already going to stare at him, but this table placement felt like he was on display.

He would’ve much rather eaten at the far end of the table, where no one would likely notice him. He’d rather eat in the kitchens with the elves. He follows the others anyway, sitting on the farthest end so there’s plenty of bench on his left. That’s something he learned very early; always know where your escape route is.

Mattheo was too busy pushing the food around on his plate to notice you approaching. Your touch on his arm as you went to sit down was the first alert of your presence and, again, he flinched away. “M’sorr-” he starts to apologize but you’ve already cut him off, “S’okay, Matty, it’s my fault. I forgot.”

You turn to the rest of the boys around him, “Morning! So exciting we get to explore the castle today isn’t it?” Mattheo isn’t sure if you’re ignoring it, or you just are too blissed out on magic thoughts to notice the rest of his group looking at you nearly dumbfounded. Everyone else at the table knew the rule: never touch Mattheo. Yet here you were, still unharmed at that.

Draco’s platinum brow was raised, glancing between you and Mattheo, “I mean this in the rudest way possible…who are you?” You hum in acknowledgement, “Of course, m’so sorry I did the same thing to Mattheo on the train,” rubbing your toast hands on your jeans before holding it out to Draco and introducing yourself, punctuating your name with another bright smile.

He stares at your hand before glancing towards Mattheo. Enzo grabbed your hand instead, shaking it enthusiastically, “Lorenzo Berkshire, but call me Enzo, and this is Theodore Nott and that’s Blaise Zabini.” He nodded to the two boys on his and Mattheo’s other side.

“Just Theo is fine,” Theo corrected, “Can I ask…what’s a badger like you doing wandering into the snake den. Didn’t you hear? We Slytherins are dangerous.” All of a sudden it feels like Mattheo’s body is not his own, like he’s shrinking smaller and smaller inside himself and what’s sitting next to you on the bench is just a shell.

The back of his neck starts to feel damp and it's reminiscent of when he hears his mother call his name from across the manor. He’s terrified. So fearful that you’ll see the people around him as cruel and immediately associate that with him without questions. Then he’s alone again.

“You know a badgers bite actually has a BFQ of 109,” your response to Theo’s quip is quick and easy, not a hint of defensiveness in your tone. It’s simply…informative. Your response clearly confused most of the others as well, sweet and naive Enzo the only one open enough to ask for clarification, “What the hell is a BFQ?”

Between sips of his pumpkin juice Blaise speaks for the first time since you sat down, “Bite force quotient.” Theo rolls his eyes, “Yeah, okay but what does that even mean?” You stab a sausage with your fork and set it on your plate, knife in hand as you begin to cut it into smaller pieces, “It means that a badger bite has enough force to crush bone like I’m cutting this sausage.”

You take a bite from your fork before dancing it around in the air as you spoke, “Mmm, guess I’m just saying to mind your tone because,” you took another bite, “yeah snakes are all in your face, hissing and what not, venom blah blah…but badgers are unassuming. People see them as dumb little furry rodents so no one is quite ready when they BAM!” You stabbed a piece of cut sausage with enough force to rattle your plate and cause all the boys, including Mattheo, to flinch, “they come in for the kill.”

“Anyway, heard we’re going to actually get to learn how to fly?!” You continued with your meal like nothing was the matter, “Personally I’m quite chuffed about it, you lot already know how I’m assuming?”

Enzo laughed nervously, scratching lightly at the base of his neck, “Yeah we kinda all already know how mostly. But ehm, where’d, erm, where’d you learn that badger thing? You read a lot?” You shrugged, continuing to eat as normal, “I mean, I do like to read. But I did a project on badgers in primary, ironic huh?” You went to nudge Mattheo with your elbow before stopping halfway, seemingly remembering his issue.

His stomach dropped, fearing you’d never want to get close to him again. Theo spoke up, clearly still confused, “Is no one going to explain primary to us now?” Blaised sighed, though eleven he seemed to have the patience for his peers as that of a seventh year, “It’s muggle school, they start young, like six or seven years old.”

“Muggle school?” Draco looks at you like you’re covered in filth and his voice is like nails on a chalkboard to Mattheo, “Cousin…you let a muggle sit with you on the train? With us here? At breakfast?”

There it was again, that sinking, shell like feeling, only now any emptiness was being filled with anger. Without Mattheo’s help you were quick to quip back, “Technically my parents are muggles, I got my letter the same way all of you did. That’s why I’m sitting here.”

Your obliviousness to the wizarding world and what each of their families and their titles held around you made you unlike any person Mattheo had ever met. He wasn’t quite sure yet if that made him scared or enamored.

“Watch out for the badger bite, Malfoy,” Theo teased the blond and everyone laughs. Mattheo laughs too, glancing in his peripheral to see your smile reaching your eyes and that his cousins words haven’t offended or have you wanting to run.

You take a sip of your pumpkin juice before wiping your lips with your napkin and starting to stand up. There it is, Mattheo thought, finally running. “You ready, Matty?” you’re fully standing now, hand across your middle holding your other arm. “W-what?” it was the first Mattheo had spoken since his interrupted apology.

“To see where our lessons are going to be? We should have most of them together I would assume, unless they separate the houses for most classes, but surely not right?” Mattheo stood up quickly, his heart dropping to his stomach and he scrambled to take out the course list that he had haphazardly shoved in his jeans pocket.

He smoothed it out on the table before holding it up next to yours, “Oh see, no worries then, we’ve got most of them together.” Theo asked to see your list, comparing it to his, Enzo’s and Blaise’s. You all had a mix of courses together, you and Mattheo seeming to have the most in similarity.

You asked the other’s to join you both in your exploration. Theo and Enzo agreed, Blaise said he was going to find the library. Draco said he would “find things on his own”, stalking off ahead of the rest of you, keeping a pace that would ensure he was no where near the rest of you.

“Is he always like that?” You were asking Mattheo, but Enzo answered, “Don’t worry about him, it’s not you. Well, erm…it might be you. But Malfoy doesn’t seem to like anyone really.”

Mattheo huffed a non-committal laugh, “Yeah, including himself.” The other two Slytherins laughed in agreement. You simply looked concerned, “I wonder where that comes from.”

You’re too kind for your own good, Mattheo thought to himself. Per usual, Enzo is eager to answer, “Oh his father is a nightmare. Real piece of work.” Theo snorted, “He’s not the only one, aye boys. Kind of a requirement with our group.”

Enzo barked out a laugh, Mattheo gave a half-hearted grunt. He glanced over at you, trying to gauge your thoughts. You were the hardest person he’s ever tried to read. Your face just held the same look, slight concern and something else Mattheo couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he hoped to Merlin it wasn’t pity.

All of the lessons seemed easy enough to find. Whether that was due to magic or not Mattheo wasn’t sure and he never truly had the desire or care to find out. Mattheo was just glad you were in nearly all of his courses.

The only ones the two of you didn’t share were potions and herbology. For some terribly bloody reason potions were split by houses, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs together and Gryffindors with Slytherins. Mattheo was going to Avada himself if he had to hear his cousin and his idiot lap dogs try to get a rise out of Potter and his ginger friend all term.

Enzo somehow lucked out and got Herbology with you, whereas Mattheo was stuck with Theo and the others. Mattheo couldn’t help the jealousy that seemed to creep into his stomach each time you complimented something Enzo did during that lesson.

Even though you sat by him in every class, Mattheo craved your presence. He wasn’t able to describe exactly why he craved it, though. Maybe it was because you were kind. Or maybe because you were so smart and able to pick up on things easier than everyone else. Or maybe it was because you were the only person who didn’t give a rats ass who his father was.

The conversation, or more so argument, he overheard last week, confirmed it. He was going to meet you in one of the empty classrooms to work on transfiguration spells. For someone with founder’s blood in his veins he couldn’t transform a goblet to save his life.

“Why do you hang around him?” Mattheo heard someone ask, a Ravenclaw who he was pretty sure sat behind the two of you in charms. “Because he’s my friend?” Mattheo stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice, clearly laced with a bit of annoyance he’s never heard from you before.

“But you know who his father is, don’t you? Haven’t you heard what he’s done?” The Ravenclaw girl was getting on Mattheo’s last nerve. He was ready to turn that corner, tell her to shut her prat mouth when you started speaking again.

“Mattheo is not his father, gods, why does it feel like I’m repeating that to everyone these days. People need to stop trying to warn me about him and maybe try to actually get to know him. He’s a really nice boy. And very funny. You’re being kind of a bitch, Padma.”

Padma scoffed, clearly deciding to walk another way to wherever she was headed as you turned the corner alone, nearly running into Mattheo, “Oh, wow, sorry Matty.”

So people were talking to you about him. They were trying to convince you to stop hanging around him, not to be friends with him. But you’re not listening, his internal thoughts rang as a reminder.

Your hand moving back and forth in front of his face brought him back to the present, “Where’d you go? Was like you were looking into another realm, is that a thing here? Can you guys, er, can we do that?” Mattheo completely ignored your inquiry and instead answered your question with another question, “Did you just call someone a bitch?”

The bridge of your nose seemed to display a light shade of pink and Mattheo couldn’t recall ever seeing you flustered before, “They were being mean.” He couldn’t help himself, a desperate need deep inside had to see if you would admit it, “What were they being mean about that warranted that response?”

You started walking towards your shared destination, but Mattheo couldn’t let it die. “C’monn,” he dragged the word out slightly, “we tell each other everything.” And that was mostly true on Mattheo’s part. He wasn’t so sure talking about watching his mother use unforgiveables on guests was something you needed to know; or even something you’d understand.

“Ehm, it was you,” your voice was small, nearly a whisper that Mattheo didn’t catch. “What? What’d you say?” You huffed, stopping in front of the door to the classroom you were meant to practice in, “They were being mean about you, Mattheo. Okay? I know I shouldn’t have called her that but…ugh, I am so sick and tired of people trying to convince me that you’re a bad person.”

That last part came out in a huff of frustration as you opened the door and walked inside. Mattheo couldn’t move. He was stuck in the doorway. You turned when you couldn’t hear his footsteps following you, “Are we still practicing?”

“How many people have tried to convince you I’m a bad person?” He truly didn’t want to know the answer. Just asking the question made him feel like his insides were boiling. You shook your head slightly, “I dunno, Matty. I’m not exactly keeping track of every miserable git telling me my best friend is terrible.”

Mattheo started walking towards you now, “You think I’m your best friend?” He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach seemingly in his throat and he sort of felt like he might throw up. The sound of your laugh soothed all of that out.

“Well, yeah ya knob. Am I not yours? Don’t tell me you picked Nott over me.” Mattheo stammered for a moment, “Wha- ehm, Why did you…huh? Theo?” You laughed a little harder now, “You guys are close too, aren’t you?”

Mattheo’s head hurt a little, “I, uh, I mean…yeah I guess. But not like you and me. I mean…fucking Salazar.” Mattheo ran his hands through his curls, tugging at the sides slightly. You held your hand up as if to calm his stammering, “It’s okay, Matty. I know I’m your best friend too.”

He grinned at that, your reassurance. It still felt new every time you did it; he’s never gotten it as much as he has with you. “Ready to finally learn how to change a toad into a goblet?” You reached in your pocket and pulled out the amphibian. Mattheo grinned, nodding and setting up beside you.

The next several months seemed to fly by in lessons. Mattheo never realized how much practical magic he never really learned at home.

Feindre did all his washings and cooking, he lived in a manor that was centuries old and protected by magic so he never needed to know any repair or fixing spells, and the doors being locked or not were irrelevant as his mother just apparated to where he was if she were to punish him; she also never locked a door if she were torturing. “You need to see the weakness that leaks from those beneath us Mattheo.”

He shuddered at the thought. He was well aware of what was going to be expected of him. He was half sure his mother only let him attend Hogwarts as a means of gaining more respect and more followers. “You want them to fear you, you’re not looking for friends, you’re looking for followers.”

He didn’t like that either. Draco was a follower. Draco was afraid. He didn’t want that to be the only type of people around him.

For someone who didn’t know magic was real until five months ago, you were exceptional in all your classes. You were always trying to study, always trying to soak in more information.

The last day before Christmas holiday was no exception. You had asked Mattheo, Theo and Enzo if they wanted to start on course work for next term. They had all said no.

Well…Enzo had looked at you like you’d grown an extra head, whereas Theo and Mattheo declined politely. Mattheo would’ve have went with you in a heartbeat, but he hadn’t packed a single item in his trunk.

His original school of thought was that if he didn’t pack then he’d have to stay at school for the holidays. The thought of seeing his mother again made him short of breath from anxiety.

But Draco reminded him that the Malfoy Christmas ball was happening (as it did every year) and Mattheo actually loved his Aunt Cissy. She was the only person in his father’s circle that treated him like any other boy his age.

You didn’t mind going to the library alone. You often did when the Slytherins wanted to play quidditch. You were not quite as good at flying as they were yet, so you’d go to the library to make revisions instead.

The content for next term actually seemed exciting to you. But everything about Hogwarts excited you. In History of Magic next term you were going to learn about the origins of wizards sports, quidditch the primary subject.

I have to tell Mattheo, he’ll be so excited, was your only thought and you rushed out of the library, not quite paying attention to your surroundings as you crashed into someone; dropping your texts in the process.

You heard Draco’s scoff of disgust before you heard his annoying voice, “Out of my way mudblood.” You let out an annoyed huff, bending down to pick up your books from the floor.

“I don’t even know what that means, Malfoy. But I know you’re trying to insult me,” you held your books flush to your chest, “your insults don’t mean anything to me you know.”

Draco laughed out loud, taking a look at each one of his chubby minions beside him, “Do you want me to explain it to you?”

You adjusted the strap on your shoulder bag, “Not really but I’m sure you’re going to.” The malicious glint in Draco’s eye should’ve warned you of the delight he was about to get from this. You should’ve ignored him and walked away but there were three of them and only one of you.

“You’re a filthy, little, mudblood,” Draco emphasized each work with hatred and disgust, “Your blood is dirty, you come from nothing. Fucking Salazar, you are nothing. I honestly don’t get how the others are so blind to it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, make any kind of retort but Draco kept going, “I’m what you call pureblood. The blood that runs in my veins has centuries of magic in it and Mattheo is the same. Enzo, Theo, Blaise, all of our blood is pure. I don’t know what little spell you put on my cousin, but it’s going to fade.

“It may not be tomorrow, it may not even be a year from now, but he’s going to realize your worthlessness. Fuck and when he does…I want you to remember this moment. I want you to hear my voice in the back of that empty fucking head of yours telling you I told you so.”

The tears brimming your eyes were uncontrollable. You didn’t want to believe anything he was saying, you knew Mattheo didn’t think of you like that. But there was a small part of you that couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t go running to cousin with your tears either, he’s the Dark Lord’s heir after all. He doesn’t need to deal with whiny babies.” Draco had to deliver one more blow for his satisfaction, him and his friends laughing in your face.

“You’re a prick, Malfoy. No wonder everyone can’t stand you,” you wiped your eyes with the heel of your palm as you pushed passed them.

You could still hear them laughing, mocking you all down the corridor until you turned the corner. You were supposed to meet up with Mattheo before dinner, but now you just wanted to be left alone.

♡♡♡

When you didn’t meet him at the common room entrance for dinner, Mattheo was a little worried. Theo tried to calm him down, telling him they were running late and you probably just went to the hall already.

But that made Mattheo more distraught, since houses don’t mix at dinner time. He was quieter than usual once they sat down, far more focus on searching the faces and backs of heads at the Hufflepuff table.

When he didn’t recognize any student to be you, he turned to the group, “You guys didn’t happen to see y/n on the way to dinner did you? I don’t see ‘em here.”

Enzo and Theo looked over at your house table, shaking their heads. Blaise looked a little guilty, “I wasn’t going to say anything…honestly Matt I thought maybe you had a fight or something.”

Mattheo turned towards him, “Say anything about what?” Blaise shrugged his shoulders, a slight apologetic look in his eyes, “I saw them crying earlier, I think they were going towards the astronomy tower.”

Instant panic spread over him, “Crying? Were they hurt? Could you tell?” Blaise shook his head. “Why do you even care?” Draco sounded annoyed, Mattheo got angry. “That's my friend, did you do something to them?”

Draco rolled his eyes, flipping Mattheo the bird, “Wouldn’t waste my breath on a mudblood.” Mattheo slammed him open palms on the table as he stood up from the bench.

Everyone in a ten foot radius was staring now. Draco looked terrified, rightfully so. While he only just learned reparo, Mattheo learned crucio at age 5 and he was pretty confident he could cast it on his cousin this very moment.

Instead, Mattheo stormed off, heading straight to where he hoped was the astronomy tower. After only two wrong turns he started up the mountain of stairs.

After only two flights he spotted you, curled in on yourself on one of the large steps with your back to the wall. Your face was hidden in your knees but the gold from the hood of your robes gave you away.

You were crying, muffled and trying to be silent but Mattheo recognized the posture. The shaking shoulders, the small sniffles. He’d done it a dozen times himself this last summer.

“There’s my badger…what’re you doing up here?” Mattheo’s voice was soft, gentle. It’s what he always hoped was used when he felt this way so he could only assume it’d be comforting to you too.

You lifted your head just enough to rest your chin on your knees, “I got tired,” you sniffed again, “too many stairs.”

Mattheo nodded, small smile on his face, “S’that why you’re crying and missed dinner? Too many stairs? Couldn’t get back down?”

You knew he was trying to make a joke, a weak smile was all you could manage before frowning once more, “Wasn’t the stairs…”

Mattheo moved to sit in front of you, barging into your eye line, “Then what was it?” Your face scrunched and you shook your head.

Mattheo placed his hands on your ankles, the action was so out of character for him, the physical touch. But it make you lock eyes nonetheless, “If I tell you, you have to just let it go.”

The tilt in his head was slight but you noticed it, “I mean it Matty.” Mattheo nodded, not speaking in hopes you’d continue.

“It was your cousin. He just…ugh,” you hid your face in your knees again, taking a deep shuttered breath. Mattheo gave your ankles a small squeeze as if to encourage you to keep explaining.

You turned your head to the side, not wanting to look Mattheo in the eyes when you said it, “He called me a…mudblood.”

Mattheo’s hands disappeared from your legs and it made you look at him. People had told you Mattheo could probably get angry. That his father was considered the darkest wizard of our time.

You never really saw any of that before, but you saw a glint of it in his eyes now, “Is that all he said?” You shook your head, sinking back into the wall slightly.

“I told him I didn’t know what that meant…then he told me I had dirty blood. Said his was pure. That all of you Slytherins had pure blood and that no matter how hard I tried…I would never amount to the same as you guys.”

Mattheo frowned. You had started crying again and he felt like someone had just punched a hole in his gut. “He’s wrong,” Mattheo was shaking his head, “Some of the biggest sodding cowards I’ve ever seen are from pureblood families.”

“Just made me feel really cruddy,” you snuffled, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your robe. Mattheo could feel a fire kindling inside his chest, “I’ll kill him.”

You reached out, grabbing Mattheo’s forearm; he didn’t flinch away this time. “Don’t,” you pleaded, “you promised you wouldn’t do anything.”

Mattheo chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Well I have to do something..”

“Will you just sit with me for a little bit…please?” You pleaded, your hand was cool against his heated skin.

“Yeah, erm, I can do that.” So that’s what he did. Mattheo found solace on the step one above yours. He sat as you did, pulling his knees to his chest.

He sat with you until you felt better, calmer. Then he walked you to your common room, popping into the kitchens with you to grab a small bite since you both missed dinner.

When he got back to his own common room he grabbed his duvet from his dorm and then back to the communal space and picked the largest couch to lay on.

He couldn’t sleep in his dorm tonight. Draco was in there. And if he saw Draco, he knew he’d hurt him right now. And if there were two things Mattheo knew he would never do: (1) become his father, (2) break a promise to you.

#yes yes i promise there's more #don't worry you guys #little asshole draco gets his day in mattheo court #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x gn!reader #slytherin boys #origin stories series

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slu7formen · 1 day ago

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MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader (halloween) 👻

a special story for those who intensely asked for a part two

warnings: kissing, cursing, just a very intense luke, m4sturbation (f and m), p in v. (also, luke’s ten times hotter with that skeleton make-up)

The usually cold October night felt fuzzy and heavily hot that night, filled with chatter and nonstop dancing from fairies all the way to those dressed as pineapples. The big party was packed and crowded, the drinks flowing, and the music blasting; y´all had to take advantage of Chiron´s and Mr. D´s permission. You sat on a long table, with your sisters and friends, just chilling and enjoying the good time.

It was good.

It was fun.

And Luke was nowhere to be seen.

You didn´t think much about it though, and neither did you expect him to follow you all night like a dog after what had happened in the cabin, whatever that was. Maybe he was just being a jerk, trying to mess with you and play around with you. After all, Luke was always a tease, a playful one. But he did give you a good scare, it was Halloween after all.

Soon your second drink started to hit you, slowly, but the feeling surely was there, embracing your friends into the same bubble as you. As the feeling rushed through your veins, you suddenly found the table a pretty boring place to be at, and soon enough, you and your sisters found yourselves on the improvised dancefloor.

Dancing was the perfect way to let loose, especially after a long, exhausting day of helping the campers. You deserved it, you thought. This fun, this night, a night-to-forget of all those monsters, Gods, missions, the camp life that kept you so exhausted every day. Everyone at camp needed that break, well deserved one. Just a night to behave for what you really were; people. Some of your sisters already disappeared into the darkness with some pirate, or wrestle fighter, or skeleton, leaving their drinks behind and a secret wink to your direction, or a "it won´t be long" comment for you to not worry too much, and honestly? Good for them, in fact, fucking great for them.

In fact, you were going to have your fun too.

You danced and moved around to the rhythm, the loud music blasting in your ears. Your head was slightly spinning, a pleasant feeling more than an unsettling one, and your body moved smoothly along with the music, letting it guide you, letting it move you, letting it control you and the sway of your waist, the holding of your hand to your friend´s, the laughing and singing. You even felt like you would be able to dance all night, nonstop, and you´d still want more fun.

Until you felt it. Again.

That cold, freezing feeling. The feeling of someone staring.

You knew exactly who it was.

He had found you, like he said he would. No-, he didn´t say that, did he?

"I´ll make sure you find me"

Well-, similar.

It was a little weird though, you just knew it was him, without even looking. You were not going to fall for his little mouse-trap game. You wouldn´t look for him, you wouldn´t find him. Did he want some fun? Bring it then.

But you imagined him.

Wearing his entire black outfit, the leather jacket hanging heavily on his shoulders, and his face decorated with that skeleton make-up you worked so hard on. A drink in hand, surrounded by other campers, but you knew, he was only staring at you.

You kept dancing, not a single glimpse, not a single look to his direction. You wouldn´t give him the satisfaction, no, you would be the one giving him a lesson. And maybe he didn´t deserve it. But oh, poor you, didn´t you know he´s been looking at you the whole night and you didn´t realize until now?

The sweat was sticking to your skin, and you´d be fine with that if the feeling of your own hair sticking to your chest didn´t gross you out. "I´m sweating like a pig" a friend told you, basically screaming into your eardrum, "Come get water with me?"

"Okay!" you reply, fixing your hair, moving it out of your sticky skin, following the fairy through the dark woods to try and go towards the drink table.

And that was just the perfect moment to attack.

"Hey" Luke said.

You turned around quicker than you´d like yourself to admit.

"Hi" you say, stopping in your tracks. "Found you, I guess"

He was looking good, too good. His jacket was opened, the teasing flesh of his neck showing just underneath that boring black shirt. His make-up was still in perfect shape, and his face didn´t look as scary as it did before, rather, he looked handsome, even with the painted features.

"Guess so" he smiles, and there´s a slight tilt to his head, as if he was sizing you up. "So-, how that night going for you?" he asked.

"Good so far" you replied, getting rid of the hood of your cape, letting yourself breathe a little bit more. "Sweaty" you stated, "You?"

"Sweaty" he repeated, a soft grin on his face. You rolled your eyes. "Nothing more?" he inquires.

You press your lips together, crossing your arms over your chest, "What do you mean?" you quickly ask.

"No one´s tried their luck with you yet?" he asked before taking a sip of his beer. He tilted his head to the side while doing so, the moonlight doing nothing but wonders to illuminate his jawline perfectly, the shadow of it intensifying over your Adam´s apple, which bobbed up and down slowly, the way his tongue licked his bottom lip quickly.

You scoffed. "No. Not really"

"Come on..." he jogged, "I don´t believe you"

Gosh, he was doing it again.

"Why?" you asked

He shrugged his shoulders casually, "You´re not something that´s easy to miss" he said, and you hated the way the compliment made you feel, and how silent it made you, unable to form words. And it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, and what he was making you feel. He knew exactly what to say, and he knew it was driving you insane, and Luke was enjoying the hell out of it.

"Were you watching me?" is all you can ask.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe", is all he stated.

You laughed, tilting your head, "What, are you some creep now?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, "Don't get me wrong, I love watching you dance" he said, his tone so smooth and warm, "But I was hoping for something else" he shrugged his shoulders playfully, as if he was just talking about the weather with that casualness.

You raised and eyebrow, "So you were watching?" you asked, and you damn right knew he was.

Luke raised the bottle again, just about to press it to his lips as he said, "Like I said, you´re kind of impossible to miss"

He had a way with words, and they somehow always managed to make your brain malfunction, like you were suddenly a dumb girl from freshman year, the way they came out of his mouth with that husky, rough voice. Like they were sweet and velvety, and he had a way of saying them, a way of pronouncing them.

"Are you done playing around?" is all you manage to ask. You wanted to do something, say something, move somewhere. It was like your legs had become roots of trees, and you were just waiting for him, for him to do something. For him to say anything, really. And you didn´t want to think, or act, or speak. You just wanted him.

Luke hummed, and the smile that tugged at his lips was almost predatory. Like he was waiting for that. For you to ask him, and beg him, and for him to give in, to say yes. In silence, he walked towards a nearby tree taking the last sip of his beer, setting the bottle on the floor shortly after. He leaned back against it, the back of his head pressing against the hard wood.

"Come here" he asked, and it all became so quiet. The loud party was easy to step away from, even when the music and continuous chatter was buzzing inside your ears.

Arms still crossed, you walked to where he was, just a few feet away.

"What are you doing?" you asked, looking straight into his eyes. They were the same ones that pierced through you hours ago. The same ones that stared at you so deeply, and the same ones that made your knees weak. Luke lifted a hand, forcing its way through your crossed arms to hold one of your hands, and he gave it a quick, soft pull, a gesture that would be too obvious, and easy to ignore. But you didn´t. Because his palm was warm, and his fingers wrapped around your wrist tightly, but carefully.

"I just want you close"

You scoffed, unable to hold back a laugh. If you really thought about it, he sounded so, so dumb.

"That was the cheesiest shit I have ever heard"

He didn´t flinch, his face was still as serious as before. And he didn't take his eyes off of you, his fingers gently rubbing the soft skin of your wrist, a gesture that was almost hypnotic.

"I wasn´t done"

You tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to continue. He was attempting to pull you by the hand again, yet he never did. It felt as if you were about to jump off a cliff with the risk of someone pushing you. You took another step closer yourself, and then another, until you were standing just in front of him, your chests barely touching.

"Go on then" you encouraged, feeling your own cockiness take a hold on you, "What is it that you want, hm?". If it wasn´t for your previous fruity drinks, you weren´t sure you would be this bold.

"I said close" he demanded. But your chests were at the verge of pressing together.

"I am close"

That´s when he really pulled you. Luke forced his free hand around your waist, and he tugged, hard. The sudden force had you stumbling towards him, your chest colliding with his and his nose nearly pressed against yours, lips parted as you gasped, your free hand taking a hold on his shoulder so you wouldn´t fall all over him.

"This close" he whispered, his face dangerously close to yours. He was looking at your lips, and then at your eyes, and back to your lips. And you knew, oh, you knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than willing to let him have it.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, and you could almost taste him. Luke let his lips brush against yours, and the soft touch was enough to drive you crazy. He was testing the waters, testing the limits, and you could tell by the way his lips moved against yours.

But it felt like a hundred tortures.

"Just kiss me already" you muttered against him. Luke didn´t need any more words to finally, fucking finally, press his lips against yours. And when he did, he kissed you hard, and with a hunger that left you breathless. He kissed you like his life depended on it.

He loved the feeling of when you let him press his tongue softly, exploring your mouth. And the way his teeth grazed over your bottom lip, and the way his hand was grabbing the fabric of your costume, and the way he held onto your neck, and the way his other hand grabbed your waist and pulled your hips against his, the feeling of his fingers digging into your soft flesh, the way he groaned softly into the kiss, the way his chest was pressed against yours and his breath was hot and heavy.

And he wanted more.

His kiss was hungry, and demanding, and all consuming, like he was trying to take every single ounce of air from your lungs. His hand moved up, his fingers tangling into your hair, holding onto the back of your neck, his nails grazing the skin, and pulling slightly, forcing you to arch your neck. He didn´t waste any time, and his tongue was instantly on yours again.

He pressed a couple of quick kisses over your jaw, his teeth grazing the skin, biting softly. His lips trailed down, pressing wet kisses all the way down to your neck, sucking on the soft skin. His fingers tightened, tugging slightly.

"Let´s go somewhere else, yeah?" he whispered, low and vibrant.

You didn´t have the chance to answer.

It was a quick turn, and the next thing you know is that Luke is walking ahead, his hand holding onto yours and a quick, firm pull, making you follow him. And soon enough, you find yourselves inside your cabin. And it was as if a switch had turned inside him. He pressed you against the door as soon as it was closed, his lips attacking yours. He kissed you hungrily, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you and pressing you further against the door.

He was all over you. It didn´t take him long to take a firmer grip of your legs as he walked towards the bed, dropping you down softly. His hands were quick to grab the edge of his jacket, removing it with ease, throwing it across the room, his black t-shirt following right after. You were mesmerized, watching the way his muscles flexed with each movement, the way his eyes remained focused on you still.

You got rid of your cape as he leaned down over you, "Stop" he warned you. He looked down, his hands roaming over your red skirt. His fingers took a hold of it softly, "I want this on" he stated. You could only nod as he leaned down, pressing another quick kiss against your lips. "But I want this off" he whispered, his hands moving up, reaching for the top of the corset. You were quick to remove it, Luke helping you quickly, letting the material fall down onto the mattress, leaving you in the button up shirt you had underneath.

Luke popped a knee onto the bed, dangerously close to your core. "Fuck-" he muttered. He leaned down, a hand quickly unbuttoning your clothes. "How am I supposed to not fuck you like this?" he mumbled, and you felt the warmth of his hands, the soft touch, his calloused fingertips, his nails scraping the skin. "Looking this pretty, waiting for me"

You could feel the heat creeping up, and you knew he could see it. Your chest was rising and falling with every breath, your heart pounding in your chest. Luke was looking at you, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

His knee finally pressed against you, the contact enough to draw a small gasp from you, his thigh now firmly between yours, your skirt pushed up slightly. You felt his hands run over the smooth material of your skirt, and then under it, his fingers squeezing, pulling, kneading at your legs. His hand ran up the length of your inner thigh, "Move" he demanded then.

You obliged. You didn´t dare to question him, his knee remained pressed firmly against you. You felt the delicious pressure against your clit as your hips slowly grinned against his thigh.

Luke watched, his lips parting. "That's it" he praised you. Your eyes fell shut, your head falling back, a low groan whimper your lips. You felt his hand trail up your lower back, encouraging your movements against him, "Keep going baby, show me how good you feel" he breathed, and you couldn´t help but feel the rush of heat between your legs. He leaned in, his lips pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses over the base of your throat. Your hips jerked against him, his hand gripping your skin tighter.

"I want to touch you" he muttered, "Let me touch you" his hand moved up, fingers caressing the flesh of your stomach, all the way up to your cleavage. He was bold enough to cup one of your covered breast for a second, squeezing it firmly, and then trailing his hand down, his palm pressed flat against your lower abdomen, "Come on-," he urged, "Let me touch you, let me get you off"

Luke was desperate, and you were a moaning mess, grinding against his thigh. You were desperate too, and the friction of his clothes against you wasn´t enough, and he was right there. "Do it. Do what you want" you sight out, grabbing his face to smash your lips together again. And that was enough.

Luke moved, his hands working their way down your skirt. His fingers worked quickly, his finger hooked on the waistband of the underwear, pulling them down slowly, the fabric scratching your thighs. His mouth was back on your neck, his teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and bit the soft skin, and then his tongue soothing the pain. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your skin. "You said you didn´t bite" you teased.

"Shut up" he grunted.

His fingers slid in between your thighs, teasingly, before moving further down, the pads of his fingers rubbing your folds. A sigh escaped you, and you heard his smile against your skin, his fingers slipping between the wet, slick skin.

Your body shook at the sudden sensation, his fingers spreading you apart. Luke slid his index finger inside you slowly. He pressed his lips against your throat, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, "I´m sure you don´t mind if I bite" he muttered, his fingers curling inside of you. "And you won´t mind if I fuck you too, right?" he asked. Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn´t form a proper answer. "I won't ask twice"

You couldn´t help the way you clenched around his fingers, and the sound that escaped you was something that was not going to be forgotten. "N-no" you whimpered.

"No?" he repeated, almost mockingly, a small yet lying pout on his lips. It bothered you as much as it made the rest of your body hot, but you had no time to be mad. Luke picked up his pace, his fingers sliding in and out in a faster motion that got you taking a hold of his wrist.

"Oh-," you whimpered, and you were already feeling so sensitive. He had a way of getting you so worked up, and the teasing was killing you.

"What is it? You don't like it?" he asked, but the smirk on his lips told you everything.

"Y-you know-," you breathed out, struggling to keep your words straight, "Fucking jerk"

"Mhm" he hummed, the pad of his thumb moving up to circle your clit, rubbing it gently, his fingers still moving inside you, "Is that so?" he asked. You could only nod, unable to keep your eyes open, the sensations overwhelming, his voice only making things worse, and the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out was too much.

The burning sensation on your tummy tightened just for a second before he went back to his slow and deliberate pace. You felt him move, and you realized he was positioning himself better, his face now at the level of your stomach. He kissed the skin just above the waistband of the skirt, fingers still working inside you. You took a quick look at him, the paint on his face, smudged around the round edges and his perfect lips not looking so perfectly painted anymore. You were not going to admit it out loud, but the messy look was something that did wonders to you, and you hated the thought of being able to have him like this, with a paint-stained face, and a body that was not the least bit tired of the day.

His mouth guided upwards then, following an invisible line that travelled from your belly button all the way to your lips again, kissing you as his fingers were still sliding in and out, his thumb still working circles over the bundle of nerves. You felt him shift his weight, his hand moving up from your waist, sliding over the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of hair. The sensation made your breath hitch.

Luke broke the kiss, a small grunt leaving his mouth, "You feel so good" he grunted, "So warm, and tight" his fingers curled inside you, again. His hand pulled slightly on your scalp, the tug feeling like electricity shooting through your spine.

He wanted to know if you´ll feel that good when he fucked you.

The thought alone had him throbbing painfully, aching to be inside you. Fuck-, he wanted it now.

"Let me fuck you" he asked, almost begged, "Let me fuck you, sweetheart. I know you want it." he whispered.

Gods, did he love a dirty talk.

You were so lost in pleasure that his words were barely registering, but the way he was touching you, and the way he was speaking to you. His front was almost pressed against you, your fingers taking a grip of the skin of his waist and back, scratching whenever the scissoring of his fingers hit that spot. And you loved the feeling of his hot skin touching with yours. Why not take it a little bit further?

"Go on then" you replied, barely, and a moan followed right after. He could tell it took a lot out of you, the effort to speak, but he could not have been more thankful for your reply. His fingers slid out of you, slowly, instantly missing the feeling of it.

Luke pressed another kiss on your lips before leaning away, "Sit up" he ordered, and you did. He didn´t say anything as he did the exact same thing while he got rid of his pants. His erection was obvious, tightened by the fabric of his boxers, and you could only watch, his cock hard, thick and pulsing.

He didn't even ask as he took a grip of the back of your leg, forcing you to straddle over him. The sudden move was quick, but you could only hold onto his shoulders, the new position making you sit directly on top of his erection, a hiss past his lips, but he liked it. He loved having you like this, and his hand was already reaching for the skirt, moving the fabric out of the way as you took matter into your own hands, pulling down on his underwear to relieve his painfully hard cock.

You held onto his length, the tip already wet, the precum leaking, and he groaned. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing labored, eyes closed. You stroked him slowly, your hand tightening around him.

"Shit" he muttered, "Don't stop" he moaned.

You moved your hand up and down, stroking his length, and his hips jerked against your palm, and he could have cum just right there. You twisted slightly around it, the pad of your thumb softly caressing his tip, stealing a filthy moan from the back of his throat. He only wanted this for a short time, or else he would explode on your hand, he knew it.

So he let you have your fun for a moment, before he took a hold of your wrist, stopping you, "You have no idea how close I am" he breathed. "Can I fuck you already?"

And come on, did he even need to ask?

You were quick to reply, "Stop asking and just do it". His arm moved around your waist, pushing his hand under the skirt, moving the fabric out of the way. The lost feeling of his fingers on you was soon replaced by the tip of his cock, teasing the entrance. He moaned. He didn't push in yet, his hand guiding his cock between the folds, rubbing his shaft against the wetness.

"You feel so good already" he moaned, his other hand holding onto the base of his length, giving himself a few pumps before he let his tip slide into you, his hand quickly grabbing a hold of the back of your neck, pulling your head towards him. And he was quick to slide inside.

His lips swallowed the small gasp that left you, the feeling of his cock stretching you being too much to handle in a matter of just a moment. "That's it, that's my girl" he muttered against you.

He began rocking his hips, slow and steady, letting you adjust. "Come on" he encouraged, his arm tightening around you. You began to move, slowly, the sensation almost unbearable, and he moaned, the feeling of him hitting the right spots was all it took. You usually hated this position; the discomfort on your thighs, the burning, how tiring it was, and the fact that the person on top always seemed to not hit the right spot. But with Luke, it was different. It felt different, damn it.

He grunted with a particular roll of your hips, and you moaned, the feeling of him filling you up being enough to make the fire burn hotter, and you clenched around him, causing him to let out a curse. He gripped the skin of your hips, his hips thrusting upwards, his cock sliding further into you, the sound of the two bodies colliding filling the room like a slap. His mouth fell open, his fingers digging into the flesh, holding onto you like his life depended on it, his eyes shut tightly, brows furrowed. And the sound, the lewd and wet sounds coming from the connection between the two bodies, mixed with the moans and the sound of skin, was delicious.

He felt so good, the way his hips bucked against yours, the way he stretched you, filled you, the way he moaned. It was the best fuck of your life, and you hadn't even reached the climax yet.

He placed a hand behind him, onto the mattress, the hand that still held you guiding the dancing of your hips. He began moving his hips, meeting each of your movements, his pace slower than before, but deeper. Your hands reached for his pelvis for your own support, nails scratching the skin.

"Fuck, fuck" he cursed. He let his head fall back, and the sight was mesmerizing, the veins on his neck, the sweat on his forehead, the messy black and white face paint, his mouth falling open and his chest raised and fell. His muscles flexed under the dim light, the moonlight shining over his skin. And his hair was a mess, and the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. You never thought someone could look that pretty while fucking.

"You´re being so great" he praised, "So good, sweetheart" his hips snapped, hard, and it hit just the right spot, and a gasp left your lips.

"Oh my-," you whimpered, "There, there, please" you begged. And Luke loved a good beg, he would have to remember that.

"Here?" he smirked, his hips rolling upwards again, the same movement, hitting the exact same spot, and a moan left his lips. He knew he found it when your walls tightened around him, and he couldn't help the way his own legs twitched.

Your thighs already burned, the muscles begging for mercy. It was painful, the strain, the effort, the exhaustion. You didn't want to admit it, but you found yourself thinking that you wouldn´t stop for Luke even if it hurt. He just felt too good to let go now.

"Keep going, don't stop"

And the way he fucked, and the way he was so good at it. Luke was a fast learner, and he didn't waste any time in finding the right spot, and he didn't hesitate on keeping his hips thrusting against you. He could tell by the way you moved, and the way you cried, that you were getting closer.

He felt your walls begin to tighten, and the way they did it, the feeling, was something else, and it only took him a few more rolls of his hips, and he could feel the heat begin to coil at the pit of his stomach. But he didn't want to cum just yet.

"Hold it, baby. Hold it for me, yeah?" he grunted. And the way he called you that, the way his voice was laced with a command, it made you weak. You didn't know how long you could last. He had already brought you to the edge once, and he was doing it again. He could feel the pressure building up, his hips stuttering. "We´ve got all night. Shit, I could fuck you all night" his voice was strained, and you knew he was getting closer too.

The more you tried to hold it, the worst everything felt. You needed to let it go in order to feel him let go too. You wanted-, needed Luke to finally snap, to release inside you. "Luke-" you called, and your voice was a whisper, and you didn't know if he heard it. "Please"

And you grabbed his hand, the one holding yout hips. Your poor movements kept on going as both your hands held his, leading it close to your lips. You placed a kiss on the knuckles, the gesture being enough for him to open his eyes and look at you, and not stop even when you darted his thumb to your lips, pressing them on your tongue.

He saw it before he felt it, the way your tongue moved along the pad of his thumb, the saliva sticking as you wrapped your mouth around his digit. Fuck. The sight-, the sight. You. You killed him. It was just the way he wanted you.

His hips stuttered and shook, your own breath getting caught up in your throat and tightening, the warmth pooling. You came undone. The orgasm washing over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and shaking, the feeling of your release was so powerful. And he came not long after. He couldn't help but follow your release, his own cock throbbing, releasing his cum inside you.

You felt like you could pass out, heavy breathing and sweating and all, the cold night air suddenly hitting both of your heated bodies.

You fell forward, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding onto him as if you were drowning. Luke wrapped his own arms around your back, pulling you close, his chest rising and falling against yours, his heartbeat fast and erratic, just like yours.

"Gods-" he said, panting, his hands roaming over your back.

"Yeah" you laughed, lifting your head up to look at him, your breath hitting his face when you still managed to catch your breath. Luke chuckled then, a little hum vibrating on his chest. "What?" you asked.

Luke gestured his face with a hand, but his eyes roamed over your face constantly; your eyes, your cheeks, your nose. Even down your neck. "I did a number on you, huh?" he chuckled.

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moons-and-mobility-aids · 3 days ago

Note

Halo~~ can I request and Poly!Marauders (James, Sirius and Remus) x fem!reader? Where reader has recurring hypoglycemia and ends up standing the boys up on a date because her levels had been finicky all day and she forgot to tell them. So when they go find her to confront her about it they find her on the floor on like the verge of unconsciousness (or maybe she's already passed out) with dangerously low levels and help her like the good loving boyfriend's they are. Pretty please 🥺

Thank you for this request! I had fun with it, and I hope this works for you! 💞 Poly!marauders x fem!reader 💞 2.2k words

The sun dips lower in the sky, painting hues of lavender and pink across the horizon. It's the perfect backdrop for the evening you've been anticipating all week with James, Sirius, and Remus—a night filled with laughter and camaraderie. They've planned something big, no doubt; James has been jokingly boasting about his "romantic genius," while Sirius grins like a Cheshire cat and Remus rolls his eyes, though the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Their good humour is infectious, and you can't help but look forward to whatever they have in store.

But today, your body doesn't seem to be on the same page as your mind. You've woken up with trembling hands and a light head, your blood sugar levels fluctuating in a way that makes your stomach churn. You're not new to hypoglycaemia—you've had episodes before, each one leaving you weak and shaky—but today it lingers, refusing to let go despite your best efforts to stabilise it. You push through, hoping to shake it off, but the fatigue clings to you like a second skin, weighing you down.

"Just a little rest," you tell yourself, sinking into the couch. "I'll feel better after."

Setting an alarm, you allow your eyes to flutter closed, promising yourself that it's only for a moment before you get ready. You know you should let the boys in on what's happening, but the thought of explaining—of offering up excuses yet again—seems too daunting. Too draining. Instead, you tell yourself it will pass. It always does. A quick nap should help; then you can join them, fresh-faced and ready for the evening's escapades.

---

The air is thick with tension at the small restaurant where you agreed to meet. James sits with his back to the wall, his foot tapping out a rhythm of worry against the table leg. He checks his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, his brow furrowed.

"She's late," he mutters, though everyone at the table is painfully aware. "She's never late."

Sirius glances toward the door again, his usual swagger replaced by something more akin to concern. "Maybe she got held up," he offers, but there's a tightness in his voice that belies his nonchalant exterior.

Remus's eyes flicker between the two, worry etching deep lines in his already weary face. "She would've sent word if she couldn't make it—she always does."

James rubs a hand through his unruly hair, the action doing nothing to quell the unease that creeps into every crevice of his being. "That's what has me worried," he admits, gaze far off. "It's not like her to just... vanish."

"Then we should go and see for ourselves if she's all right," Remus suggests, rising from his seat. The chair scrapes against the floor, a grating sound that mirrors the tension threading through each man's veins. "Better safe than sorry."

"Agreed." Sirius pushes away from the table, his frame rigid with an intensity borne of concern. "Let's go."

Without another word, they leave the restaurant behind, its warmth and light becoming a distant memory as they step into the biting night air. Their footfalls echo down the empty streets, a testament to their shared apprehension.

The apartment is eerily still as they approach, the silence hanging heavy in the air like a shroud. Something about it feels wrong, disjointed, and Sirius is the first to cross the threshold, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/N?" he calls out, his voice laced with both worry and hope. But there's no answer, just the echo of his own words bouncing off the walls.

James follows closely behind him, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. Remus brings up the rear, his gaze taking in every detail, a frown etching deep lines into his forehead.

"Over here!" James' shout breaks the tense quietude, his voice edged with panic. He's found you unconscious on the couch, your body too still. In an instant, he's at your side, dropping to his knees and pressing two fingers against your pulse point.

"She's breathing," he says, relief washing over him, but it's short-lived. "It's shallow, though. And her pulse... It's too fast."

Before he can say anything more, Remus is already moving, his long strides carrying him to the kitchen where the emergency kit is kept. His hands are steady as he reaches for the Baqsimi nasal spray, fingers deftly peeling away the red stripe that seals it. The lid comes off with a soft pop, revealing the small device within.

Sirius kneels beside James, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes lightly against your skin. His face is a mask of fear, guilt, and resolve. "Why didn't she tell us?" he murmurs more to himself than anyone else, the question hanging heavily in the air.

He turns to Remus, his grey eyes hardening. "Are you ready?"

"Always," Remus replies with a steady voice that belies the tremor in his hands. He positions the nozzle of the spray into one of your nostrils, his brow furrowed in concentration. "This should help. Just hold on."

With a gentle push, he depresses the plunger, watching as the green line marking the dose disappears. There's a collective holding of breaths as they wait for any sign of change.

"We've got to hope for the best," Sirius says, though his voice wavers slightly. "She'll pull through. She has to."

"Of course she will," James adds, his fingers tightening around yours, as if he could will you back to consciousness through sheer force of grip. His free hand finds your other cheek, his thumb tracing circles over the cool skin. "She's stronger than this."

Remus is already moving again, his long fingers sifting through the cupboards for the quick sugars he knows you keep on hand. He retrieves a carton of orange juice and a box of crackers, sparing no time in spreading peanut butter across the crackers and pouring out a glass of juice. Once prepared, he places the items on the low coffee table before sinking onto the edge of the couch. "We should give her these when she comes around."

The room falls into a tense silence as they wait, their gazes never straying far from your prone form. Sirius's hand hovers over your shoulder before finally making contact, his knuckles ghosting over the fabric of your shirt. His eyes, usually so full of mischief, are shadowed with concern. "She scared us," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"More than that," James says, his tone gruff with unshed emotion. "I can't—"

His sentence hangs unfinished, the weight of it too heavy for words. Instead, he reaches out, brushing away a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

And then, so faint it's nearly missed, there's a shift. A soft groan escapes your lips, barely audible but enough to cause their hearts to leap. Your eyelids flutter, struggling against the pull of unconsciousness.

"Finally," Sirius mutters, relief flooding his features even as his brows knit together in a scowl. "Took your sweet time, didn't you?"

James leans in closer, his breath hitching as your eyes begin to open. He presses a warm kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "You're okay," he says, his words more of a prayer than a statement. "We've got you."

Sirius moves to help you sit up; his touch is steady, firm yet careful, like he's afraid you might shatter at any moment. The room spins slightly as you're lifted, but Sirius' presence is grounding, a reminder of reality amidst the haze of confusion.

"Easy there," Remus says, his voice soft yet commanding. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, not quite reaching his eyes, which remain clouded with concern. He picks up the glass from the coffee table, the contents sloshing gently.

"Here," Remus coaxes, holding the straw to your lips. "Take small sips, slowly."

The juice is cold and slightly tart in your mouth, a stark contrast to the warmth spreading from your core. You reach to hold the glass, but your hands shake, the tremors betraying the weakness you feel. Remus keeps his grip on the glass, steady as always.

You try to sit up straighter, to focus on the faces hovering around you, but every movement feels heavy, slow. The room tilts a little, and you wince, shutting your eyes. When you open them again, they're still there, all watching you, their expressions etched with concern.

"What..." Your voice is a raspy whisper, barely there. "What happened?"

"Scared the bloody hell out of us, you did," Sirius says, his tone equal parts relief and frustration. He leans back in his chair, passing a hand across his face. "We found you passed out. Your blood sugar was dangerously low."

"We used the nasal spray," Remus explains, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "You're lucky it acted quickly."

Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of the day's events. "I—" You begin, but your throat constricts around the admission. "I didn't mean to..."

"We know," James says quietly, his hand covering yours where it rests on the cup. "But you need to tell us when you're not feeling well, love. We could've stepped in sooner."

"I didn't want to ruin the date," you mumble, guilt curdling in your stomach.

"Ruin?" Remus's eyebrows knit together. "That's not how this works." His tone is stern but laced with worry, not anger. "Your health comes first, always. You could have—" He stops, a grimace passing over his face as if the words themselves are painful. "You could have taken a turn for the worse before we found you."

"Exactly," Sirius interjects, his voice softer than before. "You don't spoil anything by telling us you need help. We love you, Y/N."

A lump forms in your throat as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You cast your gaze down to the cup of juice. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." James reaches out, gently tilting your chin up until you're looking at him. The concern in his hazel eyes is almost too much to bear. "No more apologies, all right? Just let us help you. That's what we want."

The corners of Sirius's mouth lift into a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head—a gesture that feels as much a promise as it does an act of care. "Exactly. You're not getting rid of us that easily, so you might as well let us look after you."

Remus chuckles softly, though there's a tightness in his shoulders that suggests he's far from relaxed. "And speaking of which—finish the juice. Then we'll get some food in you."

"I'm fine," you murmur, but it's a feeble protest at best.

James's grin is slight, more a quirk of the lips than a full smile, but it's there, a glimmer of light amid the shadows. He picks up a cracker spread with peanut butter and extends it towards you. "Come on, open up. Don't make me do the airplane noises."

Your lips quirk despite yourself, a response to James's levity. You take the offered morsel, and for a moment, the air in the room loosens, the tension fraying at its edges as they watch you eat.

Remus shakes his head, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You're lucky we look out for you."

"And you'll never hear the end of it," Sirius adds, his grin broadening. "We'll remind you every chance we get."

James lets out a quiet chuckle, but it quickly fades, replaced by a solemn expression. "Good," he says, his gaze steady on yours. "Because we won't let this happen again."

You finish the juice and crackers, every last crumb swept away, and as the warmth gradually returns to your body, so too does a sense of calm. James tucks a blanket around your shoulders, ensuring you're as comfortable as possible. Sirius settles beside you, his arm a steady presence around your shoulders while Remus remains at your feet, gently massaging your ankle.

James sits on the floor in front of you, his back resting against the edge of the coffee table. There's a tranquillity to him that wasn't there before, a resolution settling over his features. "You need to rest now," he tells you, not as an order but as a suggestion born from concern. "We'll stay."

"Staying?" The word slips out before you can stop it, a small voice daring to hope. "You're not leaving?"

"Absolutely not," Sirius says, his voice firm and unyielding. "We're staying here tonight. You won't be alone."

Remus's eyes lift to meet yours, meeting your gaze with a gentle warmth that defies the harsh reality of your situation. "Of course not," he replies, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Until you're fed up with us," James adds, his own grin small but genuine.

A weak chuckle escapes your lips, though it does little to alleviate the tension coiled in your chest. "I don't think that's possible."

And as sleep begins to pull you under, the last thing you feel is the pressure of Sirius's hand on your skin, grounding you in this new reality. The last thing you hear is James's voice, low and steady as he whispers, "Always."

#Poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfic

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try-set-me-on-fire · 12 hours ago

Text

Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.

Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and it’s a Thursday, so that means a few things. It’s wine night, the biggest thing. It’s wine night, at Hen and Karen’s, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddie’s got several hours of alcohol in him. It’s 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so it’s a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if it’s just a drunken coincidence.

“Hello,” Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but he’s only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. “Hello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?”

Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. “Did indeed. You still at the Wilsons?”

“Did you, uh- was there fire?” Eddie sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.

“No fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.” I missed you probably isn’t fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovan’s sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? “Hope you had a better time.”

“Great time,” Eddie says, enthusiastic. “They had, uh, mini quiches.”

Buck grins at the empty room. “You’re a man who loves a mini quiche.”

A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. “The- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, there’s spinach? Can we go to Costco?”

“Sure,” Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. “Could use a grocery run.”

“And get the, get more quiches?”

Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. “Yeah, Eds, we’ll get more quiches.”

“And you’ll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?”

Buck laughs. “The spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, they’re just, like, warm and eggy.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says, doubtfully. “It’s not nice to lie, Buckley.”

“I’m not fucking lying,” Buck cackles. “Your spinach hatred is so unfair, what’d it ever do to you?”

“Taste bad,” Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. “It’s like- like- it’s gross, I don’t believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.”

Buck snorts. “Man, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.”

“And I don’t feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,” Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.

“Whatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.”

“You’re so mean. I’m not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.” Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. “That’s not even what I called about. That’s not even-“ Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buck’s ear. “I called to tell you that I love you.”

Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. He’d wondered just how much wine they’d got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. “Aw, love you too, bud.”

“No,” Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. “Buck. Listen. I’m in love with you.”

Oh. God. Oh god. “Uh-“ Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, “Uh- I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having while you’re-“

“Oh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. It’s fine.”

“Eddie-”

“Buck,” Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew you’d- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. It’s stupid that I’ve never, like, I never just say this all the time. You’re, like-”

Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits — sort of fearfully — for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karen’s wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.

But: “You’re tall and you’re in my house,” Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.

“I’m-” Buck glances around the loft. “Eds, I’m at my place.”

“What?” He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. “Why?”

“‘Cause I live here?”

“That’s stupid. You should live with me in my house.”

“Should I?” Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. “Also, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?”

Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. “If you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because you’re already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.”

“Never have to go anywhere?” Buck thinks he’s in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something that’s always easy to fall into. “I don’t have a job in this scenario?”

“Well you’d go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.”

“I’d like to come back to you all the time,” Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. “Eddie-“

“And you’re tall because… it matters because you’re tall because…” Eddie’s voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karen’s house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure he’s warm. “I never had to look up at anybody before.”

“I’ve got like two inches on you,” Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.

“It’s a big two inches,” Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, “That's- Sorry- that's what she said.”

“That's-” Buck snorts. “What-” and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till he’s breathless, listening to Eddie’s responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I scored better on my certification exams than you.”

“That’s not even true!” Buck protests over Eddie’s continuing laughter. “Only in two categories!”

“Overall percentage was higher!” Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.

“Well, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and that’s written down on official paper somewhere.”

“Not fair,” Eddie says, as he always says. “You- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.”

“I think you’re overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.”

“It wasn’t a decade when you took the tests,” Eddie points out. “Whatever. Nevermind. And I don’t want to sound like- you’re good at remembering things. You’re not stupid. I don’t want to sound like you are.”

Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. “I know. You’re not either.”

“I know,” Eddie says, soft again. “But your hands are big, and… you’ve got stubble sometimes, and…” he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. “Buck,” Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. “I have.”

“What's it like?”

Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys he’d made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room he’d crashed in with Connor in Peru, with it’s one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. He’s still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadn’t shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way they’d pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and it’s almost a surprise that he’s still in the loft. That he’s not at Eddie’s house. All the time in the world there wouldn’t be enough. “It’s good, Eddie. It feels good.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, shivery.

“I want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,” Buck says, repeats. “I’ll kiss you, if you want.”

“Buck-”

“I’ll love you, if you want.” Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? “I’ll love you back. I love you back. I’ll eat all the spinach quiches for you.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know what expression is on his face, doesn’t know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: “It’s late.”

Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. “Yeah.” His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and that’s fine. Buck will —somehow, skin of his teeth — find a way to be fine with that.

But: “I want to go home,” Eddie says. “Buck. Come and take me home.”

“And then-”

“And then stay.”

“Okay,” Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddie’s house has food. His home has things to eat.

“Okay,” Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. “I’ll see you soon.

“Minutes,” Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. “I’ll be there in minutes.”

“Minutes,” Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.

#my writing #your lives are spared from buck mcd a little longer #man i started writing this before bi buck was a real thing!! thats crazy!! he’s bi for real now and has kissed a real dude!#slowly. slowly. one day. i will do all the prompts from that soft prompts list. i should probably post the ones I haven’t done again #let you guys send requests in #i think i might actually still have some in my inbox but again. from like a full calendar year ago #so I’ll give you another opportunity

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bloggerspam · 2 days ago

Text

So, Christmas Break is a bust.

Danny and Tucker managed to find two separate bombs, of the 10 that Riddler had set up, and made it into a competition, per usual.

Sam and Val were taken, again per usual, as unwilling team-mates.

Mostly, they were there to fight off whatever goons they happened to come across as Danny and Tucker relished the riddles and games.

Danny and Tucker had both been elbow deep in the guts of their respective bombs, when Red Robin and Signal had shown up, and harangued them into backing off and disabling the bombs themselves.

Val and Sam were dismayed when Red Robin and Signal were also in a competition and were tied for one each as well.

Danny and Tucker were pouting the entire time the vigilantes were scolding them, and were even more dismayed to find out that the rest of the bat brood had dealt with the rest of the bombs whilst they were being scolded.

Red Robin was not happy to find out he had lost his competition because Danny was, and Val quotes, obstinate and terrible at listening to orders.

It turns out, Oracle is real (much to Tucker's delight) and was able to disable two bombs (much to Riddler's dismay) remotely before Blackbat went to pick them up.

Not that Val was eavesdropping or anything, from where she was sitting beside Tucker (Sam and Tucker were never on the same team, due to bickering).

The point is, Val and Sam had suffered the whining for the remainder of their break.

But Red Hood did find them after, Spoiler hanging back on the top of the roof, to ask them not to put themselves in danger.

It was both hilarious and cute. Like, resident Crime Lord say what?

But then again, Val had first row seat to how disgustingly smitten Jason was with Danny, so really, who was surprised? Not Val, that's for sure.

It was also hilarious to watch Red Hood perk up when Danny pulled out his phone to text Jason if he was safe and okay, only to be sad that he didn't have Jason's phone number.

Even more hilarious to watch Danny fanboy over Hood and have the crime lord be flustered as all hell with Spoiler cackle-laughing in the background.

But then night had descended, and Sam's errands still had to be done, so…

No time for Danny to go on a date.

All in all, not looking good for Operation: Putting that D in Danny. (Val would like it to be known that Tucker named the group chat, if only for her own dignity).

Val is still recovering from her definitely not tearfelt goodbyes from her friends when she rolls into work three days later.

Jay, in comparison, downright chipper.

This is, of course, sarcasm. But he's leagues better than Val, and she's more concerned about how lonely she feels and how many of her classmates' names she knows rather than think about how to get Danny laid.

(It's three names. Two of them are her dorm neighbors, and the other was forced to play an ice break game with her.)

That is, of course, until Jay stops her before she leaves after her shift with a hesitant call of her name.

"Yeah, bossman?" Val watches Jay jog over to her, fidgeting a bit before handing her a slip of paper. "What's this?"

"Could you pass that along to Danny?" Jay rubs the back of his neck, "It's my uh, phone number." His other hand lifts and drops as if unsure of what to do with itself before it settles on his hip.

Val smirks, folding the note--which clearly has more than just his number written on it--carefully into her bag. She makes a note to either take a picture or give it to Danny later, pulling out her phone to send off a message in a series of taps. She already had Jay's number after all, what with being her boss and coordinating shifts.

Jay flushes, the bridge of his nose getting that familiar splotchy red hue, groaning and no doubt about to admonish her for being so cheeky.

That is, until his phone immediately buzzes, and he whips it out with wide eyes and a broad smile once he sees who it is.

Val rolls her eyes, recognizing when she's lost someone to the world of romance. "See ya later, bossman. Don't stay up too late."

And though she's only going back to her empty dorm room, Jay's smiling face and Danny's string of heart-covered emojis and thanks bolster her up enough to not feel the chill quite as harshly.

She wonders if Jazz would be willing to get in on this plan, if it means Danny taking more breaks.

She wonders if it would be weirder for her to invite Steph to spar, or if one of her classmates would be willing to study together. That's how friendships start right?

…Maybe Danny could transfer to Gotham U next year, Val's rusty at making friends now, and he's always been a good buffer for social niceties. Midwestern boy manners and all that.

Besides, Wayne Enterprises has a very lucrative engineering scholarship program after all.

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes.

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself.

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly?

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition.

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy.

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies.

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance.

All in All? It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all.

It's the little things.

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ladylokianna · 2 days ago

Text

The nearness of you

The main blame for this one-shot lies entirely to Queen Gorgo and her line "your lips can finish what your fingers have started".

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (i'm not used to use the first person p.o.v. mainly because in English i usually mess everything up by trying to fit verb tenses together so i hope everything is comprehensible).

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Fluff but a little smut towards the end, nothing too explicit 'cause i'm not good at writing it. Fairly ooc Aemond, obviously. But, as I've already said, I really like a softer Aemond, and I like the idea that, with the right person, he would totally show his feelings (after a lot of convincing, of course, as we all know how lacking in affection and love our guy is, and it would take him quite a while before he would let himself go).

Beta reader: my sister, but like me, she's too obsessed with Aemond and i'm afraid she is not entirely objective. Whatever. Enjoy.

***

Wrapping yourself in your heavy velvet dressing gown, you quickly went back to bed after adding a couple of wooden logs to brighten the fire in the huge fireplace, watching Aemond sleeping peacefully in the dim glow provided by the candles and the burning fire.

He lies prone, his arms folded under the pillow and one leg slightly bent towards the middle of the mattress. His slender body, chiselled by years of training, is relaxed, his features softened.

Despite the fact that the two of you have been married for a long time and that you know every single millimetre of his body, shyness sometimes leads you to blush in front of him, as if you still were the inexperienced young maiden of your wedding night.

You stretch out a hand, at first caressing gently his scarred cheek with the knuckles, paying attention to not hurt his wounded eye, then stroking his head with caring touches, enjoying the sensation of the silky strands between your fingers. He is so distant from the unflattering portrait that your aunt made of him as soon as the news of your betrothal was spreaded through the realm, who depicted Aemond as a "monster ready to feed you to his dragon at his first bad day".

A bit introvert, with a closed-off and apparently unfriendly character, maybe sometimes grumpy but definitely not a monster, Aemond is always caring and gentle with you and the few people he trust and love. Otherwise, you had learnt that his usual demeanour is just a façade, that the real Aemond is the one hanging with you in the library, flying with Vhagar or laying in your marital bed. But all is fine as it is, you surely don't want to change or fix him in any way: after all, what's wrong with him to fix? You love him as he is, and people needs to be loved as they are, not as the world would like them to be.

You move your hand down slowly along his shoulders, feeling under your fingertips the scratches you remember leaving him with the nails during the night, marks that you could find again on his shoulder blades and down his muscular back, on his narrow, jerky hips, marks that goes alongside with older ones earned during his strict sword training. If you close your eyes, you can easily recall the sensation of his muscles moving beneath your touch and the heat of his skin against yours, his hands ceaselessly travelling on your body and his weight as he hold you firmly still against the mattress with the absolute need to feel you trembling beneath him, to hear you screaming his name on each deep and precise thrust of his hips.

Your gaze follows the trail of your nails even further, on the roundness of Aemond's buttocks, on which you suddenly no longer have the courage to stretch your hand, despite the fact that only few hours earlier you had grasped them with all your strength to pull him as closer as possible to your core so he could sink deeper into your walls.

"We'll end up keeping the whole fortress awake... i can stop if it's too much, mh?" he'd chuckled out of the blue, teasing you a little after a loud cry escaped your mouth.

"Don't you dare." was your response, hissed in his ear and making him laugh heartily. "My word, Aemond, if you stop now, i'll make you pay for it."

"Oh, would you? I'm almost tempted to stop right now just to see how you will make me pay for my disobedience."

Shooking your head, with your hand still steady right above the dimples at the bottom of his back, you furtively check if Aemond is still asleep, surrendering to the urge to repeat the same gestures of that night: taking a deep breath, your hand lingered on the smooth skin of his bare ass, savouring that feeling for a while before squeezing it gently.

"Your lips can finish what your fingers have started."

You gasp surprised, blushing like you're again that little girl caught stealing the pastries set to cool in the kitchens of your father's castle, noticing the smirk painted on Aemond's lips and his wonderful eye pointed at you, clearly amused and flattered by your attentions.

"I thought... Gods... i thought you were asleep... how long have you been awake?"

"Hm...a while. Let's say since i felt your fingers on my face." he hummed, noticing your reddened cheeks. "How come that we're married for a long time yet you still blush over me? Oh, look at you... don't be shy, darling. You know you can touch whatever you want, whenever you want."

Blushing was the least of it, since a glance from him was often enough to set you on fire.

"Keep going though, i was enjoying it."

Yeah, of course he was. "What a little rascal you are."

With a wide smile Aemond turns on his back, offering his whole being to your gaze, to your will.

"Come darling, come to me." whispers, stretching his arms towards you and guidind you on top.

His skin felt so familiar and warm it hurt your heart. Moving a little, you adjust yourself on his pelvis before running your hands over him again, and again, and again, until suddenly you can feel his yearning running through his veins like a fire, bringing his blood to the boiling point, flushing his skin: you can sense it by the way his manhood is already leaking against you. With his breathing more strained, Aemond pulls himself up to sit, his muscles tensed at every single touch on his body, letting you taking him again as his hands flattened against your spine, drawing you as closer as possible.

"Don't be shy, you can do what you want to me. I'm yours."

#aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond one eye #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #hotd imagine #hotd #valentina's fic #fluff aemond #smut aemond #aemond smut #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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sweetimpurity · 2 days ago

Text

I Think I'll Keep You 5

a/n: Thank you again for your patience! I hope you guys enjoy and the next chapter is already underway and will come very soon! And some more art and bots coming out as well so look out for that!

w.c.: 10.2k NSFW MINORS DNI

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“...accurate and efficient methods of decoding… further aiding us in understanding… um… complicated genetic codes… pushing preservation and conservation. Uhh… yeah.” Miguel sighs, sitting up in his seat and peering over your arm as you type away on his laptop. Sitting at a table in the middle of the library during tutoring hours. Your fingers typing for him as he speaks what he wants written. He can’t type. Not with his right hand totally out of commission. So he’s come to your open tutoring hours. And now you have a student to work on so you can get paid and he can get help with his work. It’s Saturday and the two of you have been practically connected at the hip for the past two days.

You woke up beside him yesterday afternoon after that late night emergency room run. Lazily, sleepily taking the rest of the day slowly. Walking across campus to get food since all you both ate the whole night was a few pieces of candy. Smiling and talking, shoes splashing in shallow puddles along the concrete. A refreshing feeling having moved on from the mess of the last few weeks. The bubble has popped. That bubble of sex and ignorance that felt so great for the both of you. Sitting in the dining hall, among the hardwood and tall, ancient windows of your old university; looking over the school grounds turned fall shades and the autumn breeze blowing in through the window. Trying to talk about anything that won’t add any more stress or tension. No talk of friends, or family, not even school. Really just talking about whatever comes into your mind. And the conversation is just so easy. It’s different to spend time with him outside of the dorm room. It didn’t happen very often before. A lot of your conversations were pillowtalk. It’s different talking about the other parts of your life that don’t take place right after doing the deed. Miguel is funny. And he’s a good listener when his mind is clear and he’s focused on you. Only you.

Feels like things are going back to normal. Well not how it was before. A new normal.

“I think it sounds good… it’s a little awkward in the intro still but we can fix it up later…” You assure him, fixing a few typos and reading it over. The library is nice and quiet as always. You didn’t have any other students come this afternoon so you have time to focus on this and help Miguel since you know he can’t really do it himself right now.

“I don’t know… feels like I’m missing something. I’m gonna include the research but it doesn't feel like enough.” He sighs, leaning his elbows on the table, pushing his frames further up the bridge of his nose and looking over the notes in his hand. His knee is bouncing under the table and you can feel the vibrations of it in your seat. He’s applying to the Alchemax grant program. A huge grant with a long essay to go with it, multiple letters of recommendation and a personal profile piece. Tens of thousands of dollars for his research project. And he’d basically be an intern there. Able to use their facilities and labs to complete the job and create a brand new study of his own. It would start right after graduation and almost definitely lead to a great job at Alchemax Industries. He sighs, leaning back in his seat, draping his arm over the back of your chair.

“You okay?” You hum, observing his clearly distressed behavior. His knee bouncing, his brow furrowed, the sighs. He looks over at you, in your eyes. Don’t lie. “Yeah I’m fine… just… want to get this right.”

You nod. Knowing that’s not all there is to it. But accepting it for now. “Well, maybe you should include some of your… personality…traits…” You suggest with a small smile, knowing that it will be like pulling teeth with him, clasping your hands in your lap and looking over at him next to you.

“Like what. I mean… Tyler knows me. He’s the one that told me to apply.” [Tyler Stone. President and Ceo of Alchemax Industries.] He sighs, pushing his glasses up on his head, his dark curls becoming a little messy with the metal pushed through them, and rubbing the sides of his nose with his fingers. The ache of wearing his glasses for a while when he usually doesn’t like wearing them at all. But he’s worn them more often the past few days. He can see you more clearly now.

“Yeah but he’s not the only one who’s gonna be working with you or deciding if you get the job or not. You want people to know who you are… know the kind of person you are. More often than not, that’s more important than the research when it comes to something like this. I mean, you’re not just applying for a grant, you’re applying for a job…” You explain kindly. He looks up, in your eyes, his eyes raking over your pretty face. He loves feeling like he can be close to you again. He loves feeling like he knows what’s going on in your head. Or maybe that’s just his need for control seeping in. Like venom in warm blood. Just sitting next to you like this. Even if he hasn’t so much as kissed you since everything went down. It’s only been nearly two weeks but it feels like an eternity. He wants to so badly. But he reminds himself that this is how things are right now. He messed up and he’s getting a second chance. He won’t take your forgiveness for granted. “Yeah, you’re right.” He admits, dropping the graphs and charts on the table.

“Maybe talk about family… inspirations… personal goals. People like that kind of stuff. People also want to know that you can be a part of something bigger than yourself…” You say, fingers brushing over the keys and ready to type what he says. “Uh…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to pull this out of his brain. He doesn’t really want to talk about his family. Doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of being considered inspiration. But his upbringing and his parents’ names alone have opened a lot of doors for him in the past. His fingers fidget on the back of your chair, catching a few strands of your hair, playing with it so softly that you don’t even feel it. And he watches the side of your face to make sure you don’t notice, your eyes focused on the computer screen. Curling the strands around his finger and getting lost in touching you. Hanging on desperately to this morsel of touch. Knowing he probably shouldn’t but he just can’t help himself.

“I guess… we could say I grew up watching my parents with their business. But that’s more… financial services. When I was born, OLI was just taking off and now… I’ve watched them build it into what it is today.” He explains. You keep typing, writing it down in the notes to keep it straight. You can hear the sigh in his voice like he hates to be talking about it. You don’t know why. Mostly because he’s never spoken about this before. But if he’s applying for such a big opportunity then it’s important to include.

“OLI, I’ve heard of that, I think…” You look over at him, unsure what that stands for but you know you’ve heard that acronym before, or maybe you’ve seen it somewhere?

“O’hara Legacy Investments.” He says with a nod and sigh, a level of disdain in his tone. He leans forward, his mind still on this essay. On beefing it up with info that might secure him this grant. Even though he’s confident his connections will get him in. There’s always a chance things might not go his way. He wants to prepare for every possible outcome. He hates to feel out of control. You stop typing. That sounds like investment banking. Like the kind of thing that makes people billionaires.

“Is that the… that tall building downtown?” You ask, looking over at him and he nods, a blank stare in his eyes as he’s looking down at the research notes. “Your family runs that?”

“Yep.” He sighs, not offering more information so you don’t ask for more.

“Okay sooo… how would that influence your work at Alchemax?” You prompt, trying to veer back on course. You can tell he’s losing steam, you’ve been at this a while.

“So I guess it’s not really the same as what I would be doing at Alchemax but… Watching how that runs… how many people it takes to keep something running like that. I guess something about leading teams of people working towards a goal…” He keeps thinking out loud and you keep typing, interpreting his words into organized notes and ideas. “So.. maybe about you as a leader? You think you can be a good leader…”

“Yeah. I think so… and soccer, we could include that too.” He says, perking up and sitting up a bit straighter. Although the topic of soccer does bring his anxiety levels up a bit. Watching you type while playing with a piece of frayed material on his cast. “Yeah, captain of the soccer team, sports is always something they want to hear. If you’re a leader… organizer. And coming from SU especially, they love to see it.” You agree, typing and compiling the thoughts that come to mind. “And to know you can work in a team…”

Miguel nods. Feeling relieved that you’re able to help him with this. He did all the more technical notes for it over the past few weeks. Organized lots of thoughts and data to start the writing process. Then he broke his fingers and that put a wrench in the process. It’s due next week and without you he’d be screwed. But it works out sort of perfectly, and a little selfishly, that now he’s spending more time with you because of that. “I think also…”

He starts. You look over, ready to type whatever he suggests. “I’m an older brother too… that’s… I don’t know…” He mumbles. You find yourself smiling. “I feel like… maybe being a leader in that way is different.”

“It’s very different, yes…” You nod, looking back at the laptop screen, a smile dancing on your lips. “Maybe something about… protecting… looking out for those that are important to me. Or being a good role model I guess…” He sighs. Thinking. About Gabriel. About you. Pretty much the two most important people in his life. I guess I haven’t been a very good role model as of late.

“Loyalty… role model…” You say and nod. Typing those words in the compilation of notes you’re making in the margins. His knee is still bouncing.

“I also think you’re very passionate…” You say. He looks over at you, the side of your face, watching you type more things in the notes. Trying to create a section of his essay that can portray him as not just another applicant. “I think I’m just generally angry… I don’t really think before I do things…” He scoffs, shaking his head and leaning forward, his arms on the table, his head resting down on his forearms, looking at your pretty face from this angle. You grin and nod, giving him a look. “Yeah but we don’t have to include that… passion works…”

He laughs through his nose, blinking softly and admiring your face. Watching your pretty eyes, the light of the computer screen reflecting in them, making them especially sparkly. It’s quiet for a moment, just the clicks of keys and fingertips. He thinks, reflecting on all that’s happened in the past few weeks. That thing with Dana keeps coming to mind. That was really a moment of lost control. Is that the passion you’re talking about? That he loses control and can’t get it back until it’s almost too late? He worries about that. Not remembering most of it because he was so angry. It sort of feels like a dream. Especially since he fought with you right after that and then everything went right to shit.

All he knows is that Dana made it back to his dorm. He knows for a fact nothing happened. He wouldn’t have wanted it anyway because he despises her and she was drunk off her ass. But she did lie on his bed. Her perfume was all over him. And he remembers standing over her and wanting to make her hate him. Just so that she would leave him alone. That’s a level of anger he never wants you to witness, or anyone really for that matter. It scares him a bit now to think of it. All he knows is that if you think he’s loyal, he’ll be loyal as a dog. If you think he’s passionate, he’ll be a raging, burning fire to keep you warm. You think he’s anything, he’ll be that. If you want him to be.

He fidgets with the fray on his cast. Coming off the blue material. His gaze caught on the little cursive “mine” you wrote. That night in the drug store. When you were both so deliriously tired, sitting in the middle of the floor. Having this on his arm is like a reminder. Or a promise. That maybe you’ll be his or he’ll be yours again. He’ll just have to be patient. His thumb brushes over the word, like making sure the letters won’t fall off, making sure they’re stained into the blue permanently. Do you even remember writing this? He thinks. Or were you so tired it feels like a dream? His bouncing knee still vibrates against your chair.

“Anything else for today? We did a lot…” You ask, looking over at him. Bringing him out of his thoughts. “No, I think that’s good, thank you… but maybe next week we can finalize things and you can help me edit it?” He asks hopefully. “Yeah definitely, I’ll block out some time for you…”

He nods, sighing and pulling his glasses off his head. Folding them up in his hand and collecting his papers. You just save the document, debating in your head the words on your tongue. Closing the laptop so he can pack it up in his bag.

“So… you wanna tell me what’s stressing you out?” You ask, turning in your seat to face him and leaning your elbow on the table, head in your hand. He stops what he’s doing, putting down the stack of notebooks. “You can read my mind…” He smiles.

“No, you’ve just been bouncing your knee against my chair for the past hour.” You sigh, smiling soft but sympathetic at him. His shoulders slump. “Oh sorry…” He shakes his head, feeling embarrassed for being so obvious, pinching the bridge of his nose in his fingers.

“It’s okay… Is it the grant? I think your essay will be good enough…” You hum. Noticing all of his distress and not wanting him to be freaking out over something he’s already spent so long working on. “No it’s not… I… I’m really glad you can help me with it. Thank you… I’m just worried about the game tomorrow…” He nods. And it dawns on you. “Ohh…”

“I actually should get going… have a meeting with the coach. Figure out how we’re gonna pull this off…” He sighs, getting up from his seat to gather his things. He’s been wracked with anxiety about the game ever since putting two and two together that he’s out for the next few weeks. It’s against the rules for someone to play with a plaster cast on and he’s nowhere near getting that removed. So the team will have to supplement him.

“You’re not gonna play are you? You shouldn’t… not with your hand like that.” You insist, watching him get up, pulling on his jacket precariously with his one working hand. He can hear the concern in your voice. “I can’t. It's an instant disqualification… so I have to talk to Coach and maybe I’ll just assistant coach tomorrow, I don’t know…” He sighs, knowing it’ll be a struggle for the team to play without him. And they very well might not win. This is a university proud of its win streak so far.

“If it hurts, let Coach know… you don’t have to do anything that’s uncomfortable.” You advise softly. Wanting him to be comfortable. Always. That look of care on your face makes him feel a little warm. Making him feel a little soft and fuzzy inside. He can’t remember ever being worried over like that. He clears his throat, trying not to let that feeling get to him too much, shoving his laptop in his bag and zipping it up. “I will… don’t worry about me…”

He says it but he doesn’t really mean it. Although he doesn't want you to be anxious; he definitely doesn’t need to inflict any more emotional pain on you, he’s done more than enough of that over the past few weeks… he does want you to care. Or it’s more like… once he realized you actually do care, now he doesn’t want to lose that.

“Just be careful… I know you’ll do well and the team will be fine…” You smile gently. Clicking your pen and watching him getting ready to leave. His bag slung over his shoulder. “Thank you… yeah I just need to chill.” He sighs, moving his hurt hand around absentmindedly to soothe the ache. “Well… the feeling you’re having just means you care. It’s a good feeling, even though it’s scary…”

He looks in your eyes, down at where you’re still sitting. Feeling struck by your words. You’ve always been so good at that. You always know exactly what to say when he needs to hear it. He hopes to do the same for you one day. If only he can figure out how you manage to do it every time. He just nods in thanks, a renewed sense of relief inside.

“Dinner later?” He inquires, brow raising as he’s starting to walk away. Walking backwards away from the table, his eyes on you the entire time.

“Sure, I’ll meet you there…” You rest your head on your hand, watching him go from where you’re sitting. Watching that look on his face. A sort of satisfaction in that he’s leaving but already thinking about when he gets to see you next. He nods. Turning towards the library doors and smiling to himself, making his way out. Sneakers tapping on the hardwood floors of the academic building, sparing you one last glance. Finding your eyes still on him. A stupid sort of giddy feeling in his chest. Lopsided grin on his lips as he leaves the library.

“O’hara! Dude.” Peter’s voice brings him out of his flurry of thoughts. Watching his friend march down the rest of the hall to him. “Where you been? You disappeared again…” Peter chuckles.

“Oh yeah I‘ve just been… busy in the lab and stuff… and my application.” He lies. While it’s true he has been working on his application and piles of homework, he’s also been actively avoiding all of his friends ever since your fight. Unable to handle even the slightest of social interaction. His mind set on you and only you. But he won’t tell Peter that.

“Dana said you were being crazy or something…” Peter huffs, his brow quirked in disbelief. Miguel’s heart starts to beat a little harder at that. Did Dana tell everyone what happened? Or her version of what happened? “What did she say?”

“Well… she’s kinda implying that you two hooked up after the party last week…” Miguel’s eyes widen at that news. It’s just not true. But that seems to be the story everyone believes so far. “MJ thinks she’s full of shit bu-"

“She is full of shit.” Miguel sighs. Pinching the bridge of his nose. Or trying to with his cast. It was a foolish thing to give into his anger and take Dana back to his dorm. But he didn’t sleep with her. He’s not surprised though that she’s spreading that rumor around. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Shit, what happened?!” Peter flips, looking down at the cast engulfing Miguel’s forearm to the tips of his fingers. Looking at the seemingly broken hand, his eyes scanning over Miguel as a whole. Feeling like he has no idea what’s going on with someone who’s supposed to be his closest friend. “I broke my wrist but it’s fine, doctor says it’ll be fine even without surgery.”

“It’s fine?! What about the game?” Peter asks in panic, running a hand through his previously neat light brown locks. It’s against policy rules to play with a hard plaster cast for the safety of the other players and teammates. But Miguel’s the captain, their top offense and shooter.

“I’ll be on the sidelines and Miller and Durante can take care of it.”

“It’s Princeton, Miguel. We’re gonna get fuckin’ smoked out there…” Peter huffs, going on and on but Miguel just shakes his head, feeling that anxiety rising again. The anxiety you were able to dampen only moments ago. “I know it sucks… I know. But those new drills have been helping… I’m gonna talk to coach.”

“Alright… but Marco and Santiago need to get their asses in order before tomorrow. I’m not playing defense because they can’t pay attention to the fucking ball.”

“I know, I know…” Miguel sighs and nods. Knowing this is all bad timing. They’ve been preparing for this game for a while now and it’s a pretty big spectacle. The stands will undoubtedly be full to the brim. It makes him tense and anxious to think about.

“Okay…” Peter huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, text me what Coach says…” He sighs, lifting his fist. Their knuckles colliding as he’s starting to walk off to where he’s going. “No more disappearing…” Peter chuckles, looking back as he starts walking down the hall, pointing a finger at his friend. “Yeah, yeah…”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Peter says with a nod, his hands in his pockets as he rounds the corner, walking into the library. Miguel sighs, feeling that tension, that tomorrow might not go well and it’ll be all his fault. Because he can’t do more to help the team he’s supposed to be leading.

He jogs down the stairs, down another hallway and outside. The fall breeze and smell of the trees and crisp autumn air flows past his cheeks, blowing back the little curls by his ears. Hunching his shoulders up when the brisk air cools his neck, pulling his collar up and walking across the commons to get to the athletic building on the other side of campus. To meet with Coach about the game plan for tomorrow.

“Come on guys, one more time!” Miguel calls out to the team. Dressed in his uniform, dark blue and silver stripes, school colors with the Sterling University crest on his arm, a C on his chest. Number 99 on his back. Cleats and his cast to match. It does suck he has to miss out on actually playing but he does a lot of assistant coaching as captain anyway so it’s nothing he’s not used to. Coach Dean is talking with the referees anyway. Schmoozing on the sidelines, convinced it’ll earn them less whistles through the game.

Miguel sighs, anxious, shaking his head and directing his attention to the mobs of people filling the stands. The sun is setting, the field lights coming on and a slight chill filling the air. A buzz with that too. College soccer fans here as well as lots of students from both universities. People are excited. The team is excited as well as anxious without Miguel playing beside them. Knowing they’ll have to supplement him being out. Miguel huffs, stretching his arms and wincing slightly at the remnants of ache in his wrist, his breath fogging in the cold air.

“Come on… si yeah! ¡Mantén la posesión!" He shouts from the sides, watching the team warming up with the drills and keeping order, following them up and down their half of the field. “Marco!¡Sigue presionando! Call for it!" A mix of Spanish and English naturally leave his lips. Dark eyes follow their form and technique. Keeping everyone in order. They’re doing really well as always. But Miguel would prefer perfection. “Good! Alright break!” He shouts.

The team all relaxes, sighing in relief and collecting on the sidelines near the bench. Some passing the ball back and forth. The goalie is doing some technique in the practice nets with Durante and Miller. Others glancing at the opposing team warming up on their side of the field. “Marco, you’re gonna break you’re fuckin’ ankle doing that. Keep it light, it doesn’t have to be so fast. Slow down and go through the steps, alright?” Miguel instructs calmly, grabbing a ball and demonstrating on the turf by the benches. Marco nods, wiping his brow with the edge of his jersey.

“Just like that… keep it loose and look at Miller, he’s the one you’re paying attention to. Don’t look at Durante, he’s gonna be looking at Miller for that pass down the field. But that was still good, keep it up..”

“There’s a lot of people here…” Peter comments, squirting some water into his mouth, catching his breath. Miguel walks over from helping Marco, standing beside his friend and looking out at the people in the stands. It’s a little more than they’re used to. Little intimidating considering this stadium seats thousands of people.

“It’s a big game…” Miguel huffs, grabbing his water bottle. Wish I could fucking play… he thinks. Glancing at Coach, still talking to the refs near the midline. They have a little while before everything starts.

It’s the end of the first half and it’s been a good game so far. Princeton is good but so is Sterling. They’d be better if Miguel was on the field to help them. He finds himself getting frustrated on the sidelines, disagreeing with the refs calls and calling out to his teammates, trying to lead and instruct. The whistle blows and the team finally relaxes. Panting and walking over to the sidelines.

“They’re fast…” Marco pants, plopping down on the bench to catch his breath. “We have to be faster… but we’re holding our own…” Miguel says, hands on his hips and looking over the team, trying to keep the edge from his tone. He’s here to lead, not berate.

“You good?” He sees Peter covered in grass stains. Peter’s the one that’s been scoring pretty much all the goals so far. Princeton’s defense is good. It’s one of those games where no one’s going to score very many goals, it’s all about making sure the other team doesn’t get too close. “That was really good, keep doing that. And if it works better for Marco to go up the right side, then do that.” Miguel says.

“I will… they’re so fuckin fast…” Peter pants, grabbing his water bottle and squirting some in his mouth. Breathing heavy through his nose. The team takes a few minutes at halftime to refuel and plan for the second half. Peter and Marco will have to be smart about the next plays. They’re down by two and the other team just keeps getting closer and closer.

“I got a girl in the stands…” Peter says with a lopsided smile, still out of breath, spraying some more water into his mouth. “Yeah?” Miguel’s brow quirks at that information. He knows Peter has a lot of girls around him and friends that are girls. Makes sense, he’s very smart, an athlete, loud and the life of the party. Everyone always trying to get a piece of him. Not a foreign concept to Miguel himself. Miguel grabs his water bottle too, raising it to his mouth. “Who is she?”

“Her name’s y/n…”

What?

“...yeah you should meet her… she’s really pretty and smart and funny...”

What?

Peter keeps talking, tossing a ball to someone else across the bench. Not even registering the look on Miguel’s face. Like shock and something else. Something Miguel himself can’t put a finger on. And Miguel can only half listen to Peter’s words. “She’s head of the tutoring club… did I tell you I started doing that? Dude, I’m getting paid to do some freshman’s homework and get course credit. It's like the easiest shit in the world…” Peter laughs, talking on and on.

Miguel doesn’t understand. It’s like his brain can’t process this. Staring at Peter silently and waiting for him to say it’s a joke. But how could it be a joke?

“She’s riiiiight… there-” Peter turns, pointing at the stands. Turning stiffly, Miguel looks out to where he’s pointing. His dark eyes searching the stands and looking for your face. Hoping to see some stranger who happens to have the same name as you. But no. It’s you.

He watches your gaze snap onto them, seeming surprised to have both their attention now. How did he not notice? You’ve been here this whole time, sitting nearly 15 rows behind him and he didn’t know? But Peter knew?

He can’t help that his immediate reaction to seeing you is relief. Seeing you up there and he just wants to smile. Wants to disappear with you and forget this stressful game. You’re like… his best friend in the whole world. But then that relief is quickly quelled when he realizes Peter is the one who invited you, he’s the reason you’re here.

Miguel huffs. Nearly getting hit in the face when Peter starts waving at you. Stepping back and trying to make sense of this. There you are, waving back their way. What is this? He wonders. Unable to help the scowl that appears on his face as he observes Peter waving. What is this happening that he doesn’t know about or had no idea could even happen? Another bubble has popped and he didn’t even know it.

He looks back up at you. Your eyes looking his way. But are you looking at him or are you looking at Peter? He hates that he can’t even tell. He hopes it’s him but it’s too much distance to know for sure. He just holds up a hand weakly. Waving at you. Feeling like an idiot, a total fool. And here Peter is waving at you, thinking Miguel doesn’t even know who you are. Fuck.

“Alright boys! Let’s huddle up!” Coach yells, coming over to the bench and motioning for everyone to come over. Peter moves to head over, gently kicking a ball on his way. And Miguel can’t help but keep glancing at you. Feeling self conscious. You’ve been watching him and witnessing all of this, this entire time? He didn’t even know you were here and half of the game had already been played. And all he’s done is stand on the sidelines while Peter played big shot scorer.

Your hands wave at him, mouthing something he can’t make out. His brow knitting together as you try to communicate something to him before Coach snaps again.

“O’hara!”

His eyes snap to the team huddled by the bench. Taking long strides to get over there. But his mind is a mess. He didn’t even know you knew each other.

The second half, the rest of the game, it’s hard for Miguel to focus on coaching. He’s watching the team play but it’s like a delayed reaction in his mind. Like his body is here but his brain is trying to tap into some invisible signal stretching from you to him. Peter scores again and Miguel flinches at the sound of the stands erupting. Cheering and echoing through his head. Pounding the sides of his skull.

He can’t help but glance your way every chance he gets. But every time he’s able to spot you in the sea of colors and foreign faces, you’re looking at the ball on the field. Which is always in Peter’s possession. And he can’t focus on anything except what he doesn’t know. What he can’t control.

…

“Wooooo!” Marco hollers, the team gathering in a huddle on the field and celebrating their close victory. They won, but it was a tough game. Miguel stares almost blankly as the team all slaps hands and says good game. And by the time he snaps out of it, turning to find you, the stands are already emptying out and you’re gone from your seat.

“O’hara!” The team shouts, bringing him out of the mess of thoughts. The players crowding him in celebration on the sidelines. Cheers and loud voices. Talking about moments in the game, highlights, certain techniques that had Princeton on their toes. All in all it was an exciting match and Peter was definitely the savior, scoring more goals than anyone and making the game. And Peter is all smiles.

The team heads back to the locker room. Showering and warming down from the game. Miguel stands at his locker. His new locker since the punched in door wouldn’t close properly on his old one. Pulling off his jersey carefully with one hand and hanging it up. Wiping down his broad chest with a towel and hearing Peter with some of the boys walking in from the showers. His movements slow, brow furrowing, grabbing his change of clothes and pulling a tank top on, the black material bunching down his toned abdomen against his deep skin. Listening to Peter’s voice.

His mind races. Since when did you two become such good friends? And why wouldn’t I know you were coming to the game when I saw you all day yesterday? Does Peter know that? Does Peter know we spend countless hours together? Does Peter know we have this deep connection that I’m actually working really hard to repair? He ought to.

He listens to Peter’s conversation, as if waiting for him to say your name to confirm he’s talking about you. But he can’t make it out all the way. Something about a party, something about his car, something about the game. He watches the rest of the guys leave the locker room. Peter walks by with the guys and he just subtly, silently glares as they pass, not noticing him. pulling his hoodie on and shutting his locker gently. Pulling his phone off the charger and slinging his sports bag over his shoulder, walking out.

He slumps down the concrete steps, the hallway leading to the exit doors, opening out to the athletic parking lot. Raking a hand through his hair, his mind a mess. He’s not used to feeling so beaten down after a game. They won, he should be happy. He should be glad. But he just feels indifferent. Or he just really needs to see you.

When the door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him.

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is y/n… y/n this is Miguel”

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?”

Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends.

“Uh… I don’t know, I’m kinda tired…” You sigh. Part of you not wanting to go since it’s not your normal scene but a bigger part needing to go so you can feel like you’re really one of Miguel’s friends. Not someone he has to hide. That you can get along with them and be a part of his life. That’s all you want to prove to him.

“Come on… please?” Peter pouts. And Miguel wants to scream. Trying to tell you with his eyes that he doesn’t want to do this. Not right now. Maybe later when he’s had time to mentally prepare himself. It doesn’t help that you look adorable right now. In your Sterling Uni hoodie with a scarf to keep warm. He doesn’t want to do this. He’d rather just go to dinner. Like always. Talk for hours and maybe even fall asleep talking in your dorm like always. Not this. Please not this.

His eyes burning a hole right through you, trying to communicate it without using the words since he can’t right now, not with Peter standing right there. Part of him wants you to come and show you off. The other part of him wants you all to himself, not wanting to share you with anyone. But he’s trying to be better. Trying to control himself rather than try to control everything else around him.

“It would be fun, right Miguel?” Peter asks, bringing him out of his thoughts. He wants to say no. Wants to say fuck no and disappear, taking you with him. But he can’t do that now. So he just nods stiffly, forcing a smile. Almost painfully. “Yeah… come…”

Your eyes light up and Miguel knows he’s done for. “Oh great!” You smile and Peter is instantly excited too. Talking about how great it’s going to be and how many people will be there. Miguel’s heart is pounding, seeing how easily Peter was able to get you to come. How Peter is smiling and looking at you. A sense of dread filling his chest.

It’s the usual bar. The college bar around the corner from campus where the sports teams usually congregate after a game. Or the general student body on a Friday night. Loud music and conversation, the place is packed. Football and UFC playing on the multitude of TVs hanging in the place. The team filters in all acting like they own this place. Playing pool and getting drinks, talking to girls in corners and at the bar. It’s a crazy night at least for you. Miguel’s seen nights like this before, but this time you’re here. And he won’t let you out of his sight. Even as people talk to him, trying to strike up conversation and catch up. Since everyone knows who he is and knows his name. He still keeps his attention focused on you. He doesn’t care about anyone else in this bar tonight.

Drinks flow the second everyone is in there, laughter and loud voices, trying to be heard over the music. Miguel keeps his arm barred at your side to help get you through the density of people. Like a shield to make sure no one bumps into you. Not wanting you to be too claustrophobic or crowded. Staying nearby until you find two seats at the bar miraculously. As you sit down, Miguel quickly scans the room. Looking for one face in particular. No sign of Dana and he can relax a tiny bit. Sliding into his stool seat beside you.

He sits down, watching how you observe the place, looking a little out of your element here. It’s clear you’re not a party girl. You’re a smart, intelligent tutor and it shows. It would almost be comical if Miguel didn’t have a fierce determination to protect you in this place.

He leans over, getting closer to your ear to be heard over the noise. The smell of your shampoo mixed with your perfume, so close and familiar, filling his senses and almost making him dizzy. His mind flashing with moments of you in his bed. Your body under his and his face buried in your soft sweet smelling hair. He’s the only one in this bar that knows what you sound like when you come.

“Drink… Do you want a drink?” He asks, trying to be heard over the noise, his cheek brushing against yours. Pulling back to hear your response. “Yeah! Whatever is fine…” You smile, trying to speak over the chaos of people and stimulation. A bit out of your element but doing fine. Excited to be here with him and feel like you’re fitting into his world.

He gets the bartender's attention, ordering you just a beer in a bottle. He doesn’t know if you’d want anything fruity, not that this crappy bar would have anything that good anyway. He’s never drunk with you before. He slides it over to you, watching you take a gulp and smile. You’re so out of your element here. He sighs. A swell in his chest.

Even though he would normally be drinking a couple beers himself, he just has water in front of him. He wants to stay relatively sober. Enough to keep watch over you and make sure no one else talks to you. “Oh, I thought you were gonna get the same thing…” You chuckle, leaning your elbows on the bar and watching him sipping his water from a plastic cup.

“Someone needs to be responsible for all these people right?” He chuckles. As captain of the team he actually does feel that responsibility. To keep people in line since he knows they’ll listen to him. “And I need to be sober if I’m carrying you out of this place drunk off your ass…” He jokes, teasing you.

“I’m not getting drunk tonight, no way. No thank you…” You sigh, shaking your head. Looking down at the label on the bottle in your hand. Then your eyes dart around the crowded room a few times. He just looks at your face. You’re so pretty. Especially pretty in this low light.

“Well how is the beer at least? I know it’s not something sweet but it’s probably the best thing they have here.” He huffs, keeping his eyes on you, studying you. He’d love to just be all over you and show people that you’re his. But you’re not right now. You’re his friend and that’s the boundary you both set. He’s trying his best to uphold that after his mistakes. “It’s fine… I don’t ever drink much anyway so I’m not picky…”

He nods. Learning more about you all the time. The two of you have never been out to a bar or club before so this is all brand new. He can see how you’re a little nervous in this place. It’s not your usual hangout spot and he can tell. “Yeah, this place is pretty chaotic tonight…” He comments, looking around then back at you. “You’re okay though, right?”

“Yeah I’m fine…” You smile. Clasping your hands in your lap. He’s attentive, more recently than ever. It’s true that he’s become like your best friend over the last month and a half. Even though it hasn’t been that long, it’s felt like a lifetime. And with how much time you spend together, it still feels like he separates you from a lot of the other parts of his life. Friends, family, everything else. You spot Peter across the way standing with some people. The only other person you even know in this place.

Miguel follows your gaze over towards where Peter is and he can't help but wonder why you're looking at Peter or what you're thinking. He looks at the group of people around him, recognizing teammates and classmates, but notices Peter in particular.He tries to remain cool, looking back at you. "He's a great friend… isn't he… "

He says it with a little bit of annoyance in his voice, thinking about how you two have gotten really close as friends and he didn't even know it.

"Yeah he's really sweet," You smile, not really noticing his expression. You want Miguel to know that you can get along with his friends too and you can be a part of his life. "He's funny…"

His brow twitches just a bit. He doesn't know how to feel about the fact that you two are friends in and out of the tutoring club. And that you’re calling him sweet. And funny. He knows how charismatic and charming Peter is, knowing he could get any girl he wants. "He always gets the girls… he's quite the flirt…" He mumbles.

"Oh really?" You smile and scrunch your nose up, looking back at Peter and seeing that yes, there are many girls around him right now. And he must be very popular with the girls, you think. You hadn't really noticed that Peter was a flirt but you think he's charming. Maybe you're just so focused on being his friend to prove to Miguel you can be part of his friend group.

Miguel can feel his patience slipping. How you seem so oblivious to the fact that Peter is a huge flirt and that Peter was flirting with you earlier when he invited you to the bar. But he's been Peter's friend for years, of course he knows the girls flock around him. It just annoys him that you’re completely oblivious to it. He watches you watching Peter across the room, trying not to let it show on his face how frustrated he is.

"How's your hand?" You ask, taking a sip from your bottle. Gesturing towards his cast in his lap. Trying to talk over the noise in the room. The topic change gives him some relief. Grateful to think about something other than the image of Peter taking you home tonight. He lifts his hand, flexing a few fingers. "It's fine. Doesn't really hurt much right now. It's a good reminder to not lose my cool again… "

"Yeah, that locker room hates to see you comin’…" You joke with a smile. Shaking your head. Punched his locker like some guy in a movie.

Miguel can't help but smile, knowing you’re referring to him punching the front of his locker like a crazy person. He sighs, knowing it was stupid and a loss of control. "That locker had it coming though…"

You laugh at his words, his eyes lighting up watching your head throw back a bit. The fluttering sound of your laughter carrying slightly over the noise in the room and hitting his ears. He wants to make you laugh like that all the time. Make you smile like this every day. And Peter works his way through the room over to the bar.

"There you guys are! I thought I lost you…" Peter's face lights up when he gets closer, excited to see his best friend and you, the pretty tutor. He stands behind both your chairs putting his hands on the backs of them. Miguel’s eyes flick back-and-forth between you two. You're still oblivious. Smiling at Peter like you don't know what he's doing. Every instinct inside of him telling him to make Peter back off. But he's trying to be better for you. Trying not to lose control or act impulsive.

"Spending the night bragging, are you?" You smile and tease Peter lightly. Leaning over the back of your chair. He did score a lot of the winning goals tonight. Peter laughs and loves any attention from you. Miguel can only listen and watch this interaction between the two of you. It's like a nightmare come to life. And he's feeling claustrophobic in this crowded place with all these people. He just wants to take your hand and go back to campus, go back to your dorm, go back to the library.

"Well you all played very well…" You hum. Looking between the two boys. You can't help but notice Miguel’s body language. Thinking he must just be upset that he didn't get to play because of his cast. But he did very well on the sidelines.

"Peter here was especially on his game today. Princeton is tough…" Miguel says with tension in his tone, finally joining in on the conversation. His eyes flicking between the two of you but landing on you mostly. Watching your reaction to Peter's words.

"It's all in the foot work really. Reading the opponent… Gotta think about 10 steps ahead." Peter says with a grin, in his element. Miguel has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. As much as he loves Peter, he wants him to fuck off right now.

You giggle softly at Peter's joke and his obvious love for attention. Loving the way you can so casually hang out with Miguel and his friends for the first time ever. Miguel clenches his jaw, sipping his water and trying to keep his cool. You take a sip of your beer finding it's the last one, putting the empty bottle back on the bar. It seems both boys take notice.

"Can I get you another? "Peter asks, His eyes lighting up.

“Um…" You're thinking. You don't really do this that often and you're finally getting to hang out with Miguel and his friends. What the hell… "Sure!"

Peter flashes that charming smile at you and Miguel can feel his control slipping again. Now he's buying you drinks?

"I got it." Miguel suddenly says, waving to the bartender for another round. If anyone's getting you drunk tonight, it's gonna be him. So he can make sure you're okay. “Okayyy…” Peter huffs softly, raising his brow at Miguel’s rivalry. But Miguel doesn’t care. Grabbing the fresh cold beer bottle and sliding it over the bar in front of you. Looking back up at Peter, a stern expression on his face.

Over the next hour and your next two beers, Peter just won’t go away. He’s practically hanging on your chair, talking to you about whatever. And because you’re so nice and sweet you just keep giving into him. Smiling at Miguel too like you want him to be in on the conversation. But it just makes him feel worse somehow. Is he really losing you to Parker? Is that how this is gonna go?

“So… you guys are like best friends?” You ask, your words slightly slurred, cheeks pink and flushed. You’re tipsy and Miguel’s watching you like a hawk. Your beer shined lips as you smile up at Peter. So damn cute and pretty. “We are… best friends…” Peter says in a cocky way. Grabbing Miguel’s shoulder and shaking it a few times, a beer in his other hand. Miguel might be the only sober one in this place and it’s getting annoying.

He fidgets with the same fray on his cast, pulling on it and pulling on it. Watching you talk to Peter. Forcing a smile when you look his way. It’s getting unbearable. Eyes flicking around the crowded room and just wanting to get out of here.

“One more round?” Peter asks and Miguel groans internally. You’re both drunk, everybody is drunk and he just wants to get you back somewhere it’s safer. Peter gets to chatting loudly with some other people down the bar.

“Do you wanna leave?” You lean over, getting closer to Miguel, right up to his face and he just gives you a soft look. Admiring your pretty flushed features. He can see you’ve been having fun. “No, I’m good, we can stay if you want…” He hums gently.

“Don’t lie, Mig…” You whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear over the noise. And his brow knits together, hearing the nickname, your soft warm voice, wanting to reach out and brush your hair back, kiss your pretty pink lips. Anything. “I’m a little tired…” He admits. And even in your tipsy state, you know it’s time to go.

“Let’s go then… it’s too loud…” You sigh, a distracted Peter now talking loudly with Marco and Miller down the bar. Relief, Miguel thinks. He does really want to make sure you get back to your dorm okay.

…

“Wai-I ‘ave a question…” You slur, hanging onto him and pressed up against his chest as he’s trying to get you over to bed. His big strong arms around you and it feels so good, feels so right. What you’ve been missing all this time and now it just feels like everything is perfect and everything is good and… and your tongue still tastes like beer and… and he smells so good.

“Yeah, what's your question?” He asks so soft and gently. His voice is like smooth melted butter mixed with sweet brown sugar. Bringing you over to your bed and sitting you down on the edge. Making sure you don’t topple over. “Hold still, I’m gonna take your shoes off…”

“D’you think… that… um…” You sigh, the alcohol clouding everything making you instantly forget what you were about to ask him. But the thought is mixing around your brain just waiting to come out. After all, it’s all you were thinking about all night. “M-my shoe is stuck”

“I know, I’m trying to get it off…” He sighs, unable to stop the smile when he hears your little whine. You are pretty cute like this and he likes helping you. Kneeling down in front of you and taking your shoe onto his knee to undo the laces, slipping it off.

“Do you think that… all your friends… that they like-like it?” You sigh, wiggling your toes in your socks as he slides your shoe off. His hands on your calves, absentmindedly caressing up and down, having you in his hands like this is too good to pass up, but he looks up at you at your question. His brow furrowing, wondering what you mean. “Do they like what,-?” He almost called you baby right there. But stopped himself. Maybe it’s just being like this with you right now. Being close and finally being needy for his help, needing him in any way. Or the way you seem so soft and fragile right now he just wants to protect you.

“That they like me…” You sigh. Pushing a hand through your hair and he pulls your other shoe off, your feet freeing and legs dangling off the side of the bed.

He looks up at you, piecing together your broken sentence. Do his friends like you? Peter?

“Like P-peter… does Peter like me?” You ask and his expression goes serious. Swallowing thickly and setting your shoes to the side. He knows the answer. He knows that Peter obviously has a thing for you. It’s becoming more clear you have a thing for him too.

Miguel straightens back up, standing over you and listening to your drunken rambling. Your mumbles. “Cuz I think Peter is really nice and I think you and I can be friends… and I can be friends with your friends too…”

He doesn’t understand what you mean. Towering over you and feeling so blocked up. Like he’s miles away from where he wants to be with you. He wants you to want him. Not think about Peter.

“Uh… I think Peter likes you, yeah…” He mumbles. Looking down at your face. The way it lights up and his heart falls. “Really? So we can all be friends?”

His heart hurts, looking in your eyes. So confused, not knowing what to think. But wishing he could just kiss you right now and make your thoughts stop. Or to fill your thoughts with him. If he kissed you right now would you forget Peter ever existed? If he kissed you right now, if he laid you down and pumped into you until you were a crying trembling moaning mess like all those times before, would you forget Peter and think about him again?

“I’m sweating…” You huff, moving to get up off the bed and his arms come to steady you. “Woah woah slow down, sweetheart…” The words ooze off his lips. His hands guide you before you reassure him you can walk. He huffs, watching you walk over to your closet. He sits down on the edge of your bed, head in his hands. Feeling pathetic and so lost. Not even knowing what to do at this point. Has he actually lost you for good? Will he actually only ever be your friend now?

You’re sweating, pulling at the material of your hoodie and ripping it off over your head. Slipping your pants off and sighing in relief. Standing in your panties and bra by the dresser and looking for some comfy clothes. Your mind filled with the thoughts of being Miguel’s again. You’re friends with his friends like any girlfriend would be. So what’s stopping him? What’s stopping both of you from just being together again? Since you’ve proven to him, you can fit in.

“Miguel…” You hum, his head coming out of his hands and looking up at you. Eyes widening seeing you in just your underwear. Gulping thickly. “Yes?” He whispers. Like beckoning to your call. Like a plea for you to just put him out of his misery already.

You walk over to him, trying to half haphazardly pull on a big t-shirt. His hands unable to stop themselves, coming up to help pull the material down. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing. This all just makes him feel somehow worse. Your body taunting him, teasing him with everything he needs and no way to get it.

Your hips slot between his legs, standing between them and getting closer. Fingers clenching into his shirt and smashing your lips against his. His fingers splay out, shock and surprise. His eyes wide and heart seemingly stops. You’re… kissing him… you…

Heavy breath through his nose and his eyes flutter closed. Kissing you back, feeling your eager tongue tasting like alcohol come into his mouth. Letting it swirl against his lips and his tongue. His big hands snaking around you, holding you for the first time like this in so long. You gasp and hum against his lips and a chill goes down his back. He must be dreaming.

But your hands go to his chest, pushing him back on the bed, and he’s so weak to you. His back hitting the mattress. He wants this so badly. Wants you more than anything in the entire world. You climb on top of him, clambering over his body, sitting on his abdomen and leaning down to kiss him again.

“Wait-”

He’s silenced by your lips, trying to be dominant and licking into his mouth. You never did that before. That was always him. But right now it’s like you’re hungry for him in the exact same way he was hungry for you all this time.

“I need you…” You whisper, pulling back from his lips with a smack. His eyes wide and breath heaving. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and yet it’s not right at all. “No baby… you need to go to sleep… you’re drunk…” He whispers, feeling so weak, his hands running up your warm bare thighs, like medicine. His cast is slightly scratchy on your thigh. Finally your body on his, your warmths feeding off of each other.

“No please… say you want me, please you have to, don’t you want to?” You whine. Leaning over him and kissing his cheek, burying your face in his neck. He’s speechless. Doesn’t know what to say or think. He thought you were done all this time. He thought you were pining after Parker.

“I want you… I do want you…” He whispers before his mind can even think. His hands falling from your thighs and flat on the bed. It feels wrong to touch you this way. His love for you overshadows his own selfish need. You won’t remember this in the morning.

You won’t remember this in the morning.

“I love you…” He whispers. Into your hair. Choking back a lump in his throat.

“Mm?” You groan, pushing yourself up drunkenly on your hands, your hair dangling into his face under you.

“Nothing…” He whispers. Swallowing thickly and wrapping his arms around you again. Pulling you to his chest and hugging you. Keeping you there, knowing you’ll pass out in a few minutes anyway and he can tuck you into bed safe and sound.

To be continued…

Reblogs and comments very much appreciated!! Let me know what you think or your theories!

Taglist (thank you my sweets 🍬) :

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hellfire--cult · 2 days ago

Text

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: sexual tension, slight drinking, pining, jealousy, reader being childish, smacking, smut

wc: 16.3K

A/N: It's been a while, but it is here and it's steamy as fuck boys.

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

Taglist is closed

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CHAPTER 18

“I’m not going to forget you mom.”

Your mother was looking at you with tear filled eyes as you packed your last bag into the trunk of your car. Leaving your hometown was not part of your plan of the year at all. You figured you would be cradling your baby in your arms by now, having your husband at your side lending you a hand and messing up while changing diapers, laughing at both of your clumsiness even if you had prepared yourselves for it with books.

“It’s just, you’re moving far away from me. I won’t be able to visit you at all… Why don’t you reconsider–”

“I have to leave! I can’t stay here mom. It’s too–” You slammed the trunk shut as your hands went towards your eyes, covering them as a sob tried to rip out from your chest. You felt your mother’s arms wrap around you and pull you towards her chest. Her hand went to the back of your head as she made soft shushing noises to calm the turmoil of emotions that started to unravel inside of you.

“I know… I know baby girl. It’s painful…” Your tears started to wet the palms of your hands as you felt yourself lean on her shoulder. Her left hand went to your back to rub you in soothing circles, letting you cry one last time. This really was not in your plans at all. After a minute she pulled away from you and you lowered your hands to show her a pouty lip and tear stained cheeks. “I’m a phone call away, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” You sniffled as she took a deep breath in, a small smile appearing on her lips.

“But I repeat, don’t forget about me when you start dating.” You rolled your eyes with a sigh at that, shaking your head.

“I’m done with that. I don’t think I’ll date for a while.” Was your response, making your mother sigh with a smile.

“Whatever you say, my little dove.”

“Ngh…”

You whimpered as you started gaining consciousness, hearing the birds chirp, and– You felt like you were ran over by a fucking truck. Everything hurts. Every limb and joint hurts, even your jaw feels tense and hard to move, but there is still a sense of relief. Satisfaction.

Oh you were comfortable, like flying on clouds even if everything hurts. The pain was nothing compared to how accomplished you felt, or how satiated your body, even if spent, felt. You could lay here all day, on this soft mattress, with these sheets that were warm around you, with the fluffy pillow underneath your head, with the arm that was wrapped around your waist–

Hang on.

Your eyes snapped open and your first view of the day was Eddie Munson’s sleeping face.

He was laying on his side, facing you, while you were facing him. Your heart started beating rapidly as the memories of last night began flipping in your head like a scrapbook, and the more you remembered, the more flustered you got.

You cannot even recognize who you were last night. You were completely feral, animalistic, not caring about anyone or anything but Eddie and the pleasure that he could bring you. Pleasure that you haven’t felt in a while, or maybe ever. You remembered him rising you from the floor, eating you out like it was his sole purpose in life. How his cock filled you, and how good he was in fucking you disrespectfully.

Your embarrassment caught up with you as you remembered how you moaned his name, how you teared up from the pleasure, from how good he was making you feel and then how he talked dirty to you. Your face was in flames, and your belly turned with nervousness as the kisses started flashing in your mind. So many kisses and whispers–

“You take me so well Peach…”

You cringed slightly, but not out of disgust or second hand embarrassment, but because it flustered you. It was making you feel things you didn’t want to feel right now, like butterflies for example. You wanted to shoot those bastards down, because Eddie was just a friend, and you two were only curious about one another, that’s all.

You licked your lips as you started to wiggle out of his embrace, moving backwards on the bed towards the edge. He groaned in his slip as his arm flopped to the bed once you got out of his reach. You stared at him for a while as you inspected his sleeping figure. He looked so peaceful like this, pretty even. His lashes were perfect, his stubble was neatly done, his hair was untied and–

You have to stop. You can’t keep looking at him with intentions of staying. What makes you think he wants you here when he wakes up? It was just a quick fuck the remaining hatred out kind of thing, that’s all it was for crying outloud. You bit your bottom lip as you got out of the sheets and turned to finally sit on the edge and pull yourself off the bed and–

“SHIT–” Your legs gave up on you, making you fall back down on the bed, ass hitting the mattress, making it bounce and of course, Eddie was shaken awake.

“Wha– What–?” He was sleepy, his voice raspy and it made your body shiver with its tone. You panicked as you realized you were completely naked, top to bottom, growing way too self-conscious about your situation. You grabbed onto a very thin polar fleece black blanket that had pooled at both your feet, and you put it all over the front but your back was still bare to him.

Your breathing was quick as you felt the bed move, and you closed your eyes while your heart wanted to kill you at the moment from how fast it was beating, threatening to explode. What is gonna happen now? What is going to become of the two of you? Did you two just fuck up your entire friendship? Your relationship? You have to say something, you can’t be shocked all day, sooner or later you’ll have to face him and talk, better that be now.

You turned your head around to look at him, and your breath simply cut off at the sight of him. He sat on the bed, the sheet covering his bottom half, his entire chest on display, his hair down as he rubbed one of his eyes. Your gaze went downwards towards his happy trail that went below the sheet, covering the trail you still wanted to follow. You didn’t notice his eyes were already open and looking at you, and a lazy smirk displayed on his lips.

“Wow, don’t make yourself too obvious, Peach.” You snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes going back towards his face. Embarrassment took over you and you whipped your head around again, trying to calm your breathing. It was already pathetic to be like this when he was this calm in front of you.

But unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t in the slightest. He was good at hiding his emotions, afraid people could know or read him as easily as he could with others… just like he knows you are completely losing your shit right now.

“Um… I, uh… I fell.” What the fuck are you saying? Stupidity, that’s what. You heard a rough chuckle from behind you and you didn’t know how his eyes were looking at your naked back. He wanted to reach out and rub his hand all over it, and he clenched his jaw as he felt his dick twitch underneath the sheet. He can only imagine looking down at your back as he rails into you and– he needs to stop.

“I could feel that. Too rough for you?” There was mocking behind his tone, which sparked a bit of anger inside you. You stood up from the bed, and his breath hitched when seeing your bare ass for just a second. He bit the inside of his cheek as you turned around and damn you looked so good right now. Your makeup was all smeared, your hair a mess, and his blanket draped over your front as you clung it close to your chest with both hands. You looked fucked, literally fucked.

“Oh? As far as I remember, someone got a bit pussy drunk yesterday.” He threw his head back with a loud laugh, seeing his adam’s apple bobbing up and down at the motion, making your legs tremble more than what they are now thanks to the soreness. Shit, you are not sure if you can do more than two steps without tumbling over.

“Excuse me? I’m pretty sure Gareth who lives three blocks away heard you moaning my name Peach.” Your face grew fifty times hotter, your cheeks burning entirely as he looked at you once again. You were gripping onto the blanket against you as if your life depended on it. Your belly was turning in nervousness as you looked for the following words.

“You moaned my name too, you aren’t all that innocent either!”

“I know I did. You think I’m ashamed of that? It was good.” His eyes were looking at you with an intensity you haven’t felt in a while, just like when Bil– You shook your head from that thought and cleared your throat.

“It was and– and uhm–” You didn’t know what you wanted. It was– He was the best you ever had, there was no lie in that. Better than those boys from school before Henry, better than Henry, better than your hookups and better than Billy… But– he was also part of the friend group. You two were in the same group of people and if something were to happen between the two of you– things like jealousy or one being mad at the other and then it’s just going to be back as it was a year ago.

You didn’t want to go back to that place. You didn’t want to lose Eddie again.

And Eddie noticed it as you looked down at the floor. The thoughts, the doubt, and he could not believe you were thinking about this. You two spent one of the greatest nights, and he knows you enjoyed as much as he did. He knows you’ve never experienced what you have with him, just as he experienced something completely new with you and his fists were clenching the sheets underneath him, feeling anger rising in his chest.

Your mind was trying to come up with the words but if you said you didn’t want to do this ever again, you would be lying. If you said you didn’t want to feel him again it would also be a lie. If you said you didn’t want to feel him inside of you, it would be a terrible horrible lie, the worst of them all because you never felt like that in your life.

But you wouldn’t lie if you said you are afraid of what this might do to your friendship if it were to keep going. What might do to all the improvement you two did the past six months. What might happen in between the entire group of friends you have if it were to all fall apart. What if they took sides? What if you two broke the entire group apart, even between eachother, because of some fun?

“I swear to god, Peach–” He began, already knowing you had come to a resolve. An answer that only angers him terribly knowing you felt as great as he did the night before. That you enjoyed doing to him the things you did just as much as he enjoyed eating you out like he never did before to any other woman in his life.

“We really shouldn’t…” You began, not daring to look at him. You wanted to stop talking, to jump on the bed and into his arms, kiss him again, fuck him, ride him like last night already even if you were sore all over, muscles in pain, but he just–

“Are you serious? After how we went at eachother last night? You’re telling me you don’t want to do this again?” His eyebrows were meeting in the middle, not even hiding the anger behind them. Your cheeks burnt once more as you cleared your throat, your eyes finding his again, your stomach flipping at the intensity of his gaze.

“I just– What happens if something goes… wrong? I mean–” You bit your bottom lip, looking for the right words as you looked at him. “-- I don’t want us to go back to where we were a year ago.”

He realized now with what you were conflicted about, and in all honesty, he never thought of it that way. He had thought of the consequences of fucking you and what could happen if you two fall apart because of it. With the two of you and with the group… But after last night, there is no way in fucking hell he cares for all of that now.

“Why would something go wrong? What do you exactly mean by ‘wrong’?” He was still looking at your entire figure, and it was rendering you stupid again. Your breathing quickened at how much you felt him burn you with his gaze. Scanning you like a predator, waiting to pounce at any given opportunity.

“I–” It was embarrassing. What if he thought you had feelings for him? Like, romantic feelings. More than simple attraction… maybe– “-- What if one becomes possessive of the other? Like, it can happen. What if you see me with another person and you don’t like that? It would just–”

And his fists clenched against the sheets as you mentioned that part. He knew where you were going with it, and he wasn’t very keen on the idea of sharing you, but it wasn’t unbearable. If sharing you was his only way of having you, then he would take it. He wondered though–

“And what about you seeing me with another woman?” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you looked at him with a dumbfounded face.

“Huh?”

“As far as I remember you were absolutely jealous last night.” You scoffed at his words, anger boiling as denial settled in your gut. You? What? Your arms left your chest in fury as you burnt all over.

“Jealous!? Me!? I wasn’t!” And you saw how his eyes traveled downwards, his head cocking to the side as he scanned you. You squinted at him, opening your mouth ready to cuss at him, wondering what the hell this man was looking at you, only to feel a breeze brush on your–

Your eyes widened as you snapped your head to look down and you gasped, yelping loudly as you bent down to grab the blanket again. You let it fall and he saw your naked body, in the full-on daylight that was coming through the curtains. Are you dumb!? Your hands grabbed onto the fabric and you stood up quickly, covering yourself only to look up to see a pair of eyes staring down at you.

And you didn’t know how fast he had been, because he was towering over you, standing.

He had quickly crawled to the edge of the bed and stood up before you the moment you picked up the blanket from the floor. Your eyes were wide, staring up at him with bewilderment in them, your heartbeat banging in your ears, threatening to pop your eardrum off. His eyes were hungry, his jaw was clenched, and– You didn’t dare to look down at him. You didn’t dare to look at the thing that had filled you to the brim the night before because if you did, you didn’t know what you would do.

“Then, what is your final answer Peach? We done here? One time thing, that’s it?” You didn’t know what you expected, but not this. He was asking if this was the last time, not really convincing you to say otherwise. Did you want to be convinced to let this continue? What were you expecting from him?

“I–” Your mouth went dry, not knowing what to respond, but your mind knew exactly what it needed to be said. This, even if your body craves it once more, you cannot allow it. He shouldn’t either. You had to tell him that it was done but your eyes drifted to his lips at the same time he did to yours.

Will you be able to hold back from kissing him, knowing just how good it felt to do so? Will you be able to not look at him the way you have been doing for the past month? Will you be able to not think about how he fucked you speechless on those lonely nights of yours? You don’t know… You don’t want to know but–

“I’ll respect it. I’ll back off.” No. You don’t want him to back off. You don’t want him to stop, you don’t want to stop this, but you can’t let it happen. The group could be involved, the relationship you so craved of him would be destroyed if something were to happen. You closed your eyes as you swallowed harshly, to then look up at his eyes once more.

“It was just this one time… We were curious, and it’s– it’s done.”

You two stared one another down for a few seconds, and it was as if the both of you were expecting someone to break first. For one of you to grab the other’s face and kiss them stupid. You could feel his hot breath all over your face, even if he wasn’t that close. That’s just how hard he was breathing.

His jaw clenched once and then you saw him take a step away from you, turning and grabbing his boxers from the floor. You wanted to look. You really did but you couldn’t. You fucking couldn’t, so you turned your head the other way as you clutched the blanket to your chest. He put his boxers on and then stretched his back, looking at you once more.

“Well, then there’s that Peach. We’ll go back to how we were before all this… or well, try.” You were puzzled by those words, looking at him as you felt your heart clench in your chest.

“Try?”

“Well yes. Give me a little bit of time to forget about your tits and pussy, hard to look at your face when I have that in my head.” He was so fucking bold for saying this, making your face just flare up, and you looked away for him not to notice. You swallowed a lump of, you don’t even know what, as you stared at his dresser to keep your mind occupied.

“I see.” You didn’t know what to say. He wants to forget about last night and that’s what you wanted right? So why does it hurt your fucking ego? Why does it make your heart clench? It shouldn’t.

“Right. Okay. Well, I’ll let you put your clothes back on and you can go home.” And you snapped your head to look at him only to see him walking out after grabbing his shirt and pants, closing the door behind him. Your mouth fell open in disbelief and you slowly sat down on the bed once again.

What was that? Why did he agree so easily? But you wanted that? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you feel like this? Why do you feel like you lost? Like you are making the wrong decision? It was just sex for fuck sake! There’s probably someone out there with Eddie’s same– same damn cock size! And– someone who can fuck you the way he did… someone who ate you out the way he did–

“Asshole.” You muttered through your teeth, not noticing you were showing them towards the door, a glare in your eyes. Fine, he wants to forget that night. He wants to forget you and your body. Perfectly fine, you’ll do the same. You’ll do the exact same, because this is how it should be. You made the right decision.

You did.

You’re enraged.

He really did not talk to you for the whole fucking week. You were basically back to how you two were a year ago, and you were hating it. You've gotten so used to talking to him everyday, sending funny memes to eachother, and just having fun, and now, it’s nonexistent.

But you sort of understood now what he meant about trying to forget… that. You understood because you can hardly stop thinking about it. You can hardly stop doubting yourself if your decision was the right one, debating the pros and cons about the situation. Of course the cons always won, it had to do with your friendship with him and the group, while the pros were… the pro was you could fuck him whenever you wanted.

You wanted to message him many times, but your dignity always won over as well as your respect for him to move away from you a bit to gather his thoughts once again. But fuck, you tried masturbating last night with the dildo you owned and– it just doesn’t satisfy you the way his cock did. You were enraged because Eddie Munson had ruined you for everyone else, or at least until you found someone that matches him in size and performance.

Robin doesn’t know and she will never know, and you hoped Eddie didn’t tell Steve. That was the last conversation you two had when you left his house, to keep this a secret. You couldn’t even accept his offer of him driving you home, preferring to just order a car to take you. You were awkward and nervous and you probably looked completely stupid, but can you be blamed?

You fucked your friend! You fucked someone you never thought you would fuck in your entire life! And you liked it– No, loved it and you wanted to do it again and again and again, but it just cannot be. You were also mad at yourself for wanting to do this again, despite knowing it was wrong. You hated that your body was already craving him desperately, wanting to feel him against you again, kiss you, fill you up and just turn you into a mess.

You wondered if Robin would kill you for it. She would probably be surprised and ask for details. You really need to stop thinking of him because tonight would be the first night you see him after literally riding him into oblivion and you have to pretend nothing ever happened between the two of you so your friends wouldn’t suspect anything at all.

How the fuck were you supposed to act normal?

Your doorbell rang and you looked at yourself in your full sized mirror again. A black simple strap dress with a black leather jacket on top. Hair done, makeup done, and some low heels. It was good enough and the air was starting to become warmer so, you were absolutely fine with a dress.

You took a deep breath in and walked towards the door, opening it to reveal Steve, Robin and Jonathan holding their drinks up. You smiled, feeling the nerves invade your belly knowing he could come at any minute. The group decided to go out this saturday for Argyle’s birthday. He didn’t want to celebrate his birthday but you all invited Eden this time so he gratefully said yes.

He decided on the club all of you were gonna go, and you could already guess it was going to be something different from the usual. Your eyes followed Steve as he entered the house with his boyfriend and roommate and you bit your bottom lip as your heart hammered in your chest. What if Eddie did tell him? Would he tell everyone?

You closed the door and you waited but no questions were asked and you didn’t notice Steve looking at you differently in any way. Same with Jonathan and thankfully Robin as well. He didn’t talk, which was good.

“So…” Robin began and your blood went cold. Jonathan and Steve smirked at one another and– fuck, did they know? Did Eddie talk? You’re gonna kill him, you’re gonna fucking murder him. “You were glowing this week at work.”

“Huh?” You asked, trying to act innocent, trying to act like your blood didn’t just run cold in your veins just now.

“Robin told me you looked refreshed. What happened when we left Eddie’s house, hmm?” Steve asked and you felt like your breathing was cutting off. You had to lie, you had to make up a lie, anything.

“Nothing happened?” You busied yourself as you all stood in the kitchen, opening up the six packs of beer and putting them inside your fridge. Jonathan leaned on the wall next to it, arms crossed as he looked at you.

“Oh, something did happen.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Lie, you have to lie.

“Okay, fine… Something– happened.” You mumbled and you heard Robin gasp, and you turned around to see Robin covering her mouth and then Steve’s eyes were about to bulge out of its sockets.

“With Eddie?” His voice seemed strained, almost angry through the shock. You winced and frowned, shaking your head.

“What? No! He hooked me up with– with his friend Jeff!”

Silence in the room. You gulped slowly as you looked at them, and then locked eyes with Robin. She was tilting her head in complete confusion as she stared at you. Her gaze fell on Steve who looked back at her and then you saw him sigh in relief.

Your shoulders fell down as you realized that it was indeed the right decision not to continue being friends with benefits with Eddie. By the looks of your friends, and especially Steve, you could see the fear behind the eyes. There was no happiness about it, or overall excitement for the two of you, just plain worry. Yeah, it was the better choice after all.

“You never told me you liked Jeff?” Robin looked at you once again and you shrugged, opening a beer for yourself.

“He looked nice that night and when you guys left he picked me up from Eddie’s and we went to a motel because he lives with Gareth.” You hoped they were buying your story because you would die if they didn’t.

“And?” Jonathan asked, holding onto your shoulder with a smirk on his face and you cleared your throat, took a sip of your beer and opened your mouth only for the doorbell to ring again and your heart stopped.

“I’ll get it! I want details so don’t start without me!” Robin yelled as she walked out of the kitchen and your blood drained your face. No, you cannot be this unlucky. You gulped as you took a bigger sip of your can and Steve was next to you, and if you squinted you could almost see a tail wag behind him.

“You never said anything! Like if it were someone random I don’t care, but Jeff? We know Jeff!” You rolled your eyes at him as you shook your head, feeling the nerves in your belly grow tenfold as you heard the door opening. You had to get out of this situation and fast.

“I would prefer to keep it to myself, I mean, like you said, it is someone you guys know–” And Jonathan rolled his eyes at you grabbing the rum and coke to start preparing his drink on your kitchen island.

“Oh please, just tell us if he was good and all that stuff.” You should have mentioned someone random from the party, someone they didn’t know. That’s why they’re fucking curious about it and you dug your own hole. You wanted to run away and not deal with this but then Robin marched back in with a smile to her face, Nancy holding her hand, Argyle, Eden and–

Fuck. He put his hair in a half ponytail just like you did that one time for him.

He was wearing a black button up linen shirt, open buttons at the top revealing his thin silver necklace. He was also wearing some worn out black colored pants, or jeans, you didn’t know, but fuck he looked good. Warm weather Eddie was going to fuck you over wasn’t he?

“Okay, continue!” Robin yelled as she sat on one of the stools, elbows on the counter and her chin on her hands with a smile on her face. Eddie’s eyes found yours and– shivers went down your spine as a flash of that night came to your mind. Him on top of you, moaning, thrusting in and out of you and you–

“Continue what?” Nancy snapped you out of your thoughts, making you look at her. Everyone was now waiting for you to continue and when you stuttered, not daring to look at Eddie, Jonathan talked for you.

“Robin said that since Eddie’s party, she–” and he made a nod at you making you wince”--has been in a special mood at work and now we found out why.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and Nancy gasped, covering her mouth and her head snapped towards Eddie. His eyes were wide as he looked at you, a look that only asked one thing of you. ‘Did you tell them?’

Your mouth opened and closed as you looked at him and Argyle was looking in between the two of you while elbowing Eden to the side. You wanted to talk but Eddie was looking at you with anger or with confusion, you couldn’t really tell, but maybe it was both. You stuttered a bit but Steve was the one who interrupted this time, and you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

“She just told us Jeff came to pick her up that night after we left.” He chuckled and looked at you while your eyes snapped to the wall on your side, not wanting to look at Eddie anymore. Your whole body and face was on fire as you wondered what his reaction was right now.

“Jeff…” By the sound of his voice he was starting to connect the dots together, and a dry chuckle escaped him, making you frown and turn your head to look back at him. “Yeah. Didn’t know he was that good, Peach. Special mood?”

He was acting cocky now. A defiant look in his eyes and it reminded you of the Eddie of a year ago. Same look, same hateful gaze, arrogant, infuriating, making you want to walk over to him and strangle him until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

But it was still enough to send shivers down your spine, making you move a bit in your place.

“It wasn’t that good.” Was your short reply, biting the inside of your left cheek and you just now noticed that she had been preparing drinks for everyone.

“Really?” Robin asked while looking at you as she took a sip of her drink. Your mouth opened to answer only for the motherfucker to interrupt you once again, while walking towards you, his hand reaching next to you to open the fridge and take a beer out.

“Hmm, is that why Jeff agreed that it was a one time thing? Maybe the one that wasn’t good…” and he looked at you, glares being exchanged, your heart beating into your chest as you looked at him and you saw his nostrils flare slightly as he continued, “-- was you, little Peach.”

He slammed the door closed and you hissed at him, the sound startling you, but your anger was rising up, not being able to stop it as you fully faced him. Who does he think he is? Why does he feel that fucking entitled to treat you like this again?

“Slam my fridge one more fucking time Munson.” He cocked his head at you and Steve’s smile fell, immediately stepping in between you two, making you take a step back as well as Eddie, your eyes never leaving his, as he glared down at you.

“Okay, let’s not get too personal here…” Your breathing was deep, face burning with anger now, not knowing how to feel about this whole situation. Why was he acting so badly? He was the one who didn’t want to speak to you for a whole week, and he comes to your house and acts like a child?

“I was just protecting my friend Harrington. That’s all.” Eddie responded and took a sip of his beer before turning away from you. Your heart clenched at that, not really knowing why. You wanted to do something but you were not quite sure what. Just do something to him. But what?

You sighed as you looked at Robin who was looking back and forth to you and Eddie, while the other gave you one last look before turning to go to the living room, or to your balcony. You know Robin is worried, and you are too. Your heart clenched once more, feeling a pang of anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

All you wanted was to avoid this treatment. You wanted to avoid going back to the old ways Eddie and you treated eachother, yet you are still back into it. It was wrong to sleep with him. It was so wrong because now your friendship might be over thanks to ego, to pride, and you felt like crying.

God, you knew he had become a close friend, almost a best friend you could say, and now realizing you fucked it all up for one night just made you want to hit yourself in the face. You wondered if he had the same thoughts or worries in his head. If he also didn’t like this situation at all.

But even with all these feelings, as you walked out with everyone else from the kitchen, and you looked towards the balcony, you couldn’t help but look at his broad back as smoke left his mouth while looking at his phone–

Wait, why is he looking at his phone? Is he– Nope, you are not doing this. You are not. You are going to pretend the knot in your stomach is not there, because, why the fuck would you care if Eddie was talking to someone? He can! He is free to do so, and maybe one of his hookups will be at the club you were all gonna go and he was just securing a fucking pussy. Yes, and he has all the right.

Yet, you couldn’t help but rush towards your table to grab your cellphone and turn away so no one could peek at your phone. You opened Instagram and saw Eddie had posted a story, right before he arrived. Your heart beat wildly in your chest and your finger clicked on his picture, only for the story to pop up and–

You let out a sigh of relief, very quietly, as you saw it was a goofy picture of him, Nancy, Argyle, and Eden in the mirror of your elevator. Wait, why are you relieved? If he wanted to post a shirtless picture on the mirror he could. It would probably score him some girl tonight for him to fuck, and he has all the right to do so because he wanted to forget about your body. And, did he say you weren’t good?

He fucking did. Anger bubbled up in your chest and you turned to see him in the balcony still, and you saw everyone else minding their own business, so you walked towards the sliding doors and stepped out, closing them behind you. Eddie looked over his shoulder and a dry huff escaped him before putting the cigarette on his lips again and taking a big puff.

“So, Jeff, huh.” He mumbled as he let the smoke out and your eyebrow twitched as you walked closer, standing next to him.

“You wanted me to tell the truth? I didn’t know Robin had been talking behind my back about how I–” Oh you chose your words wrong. A smirk broke on his lips, turning to face you with a piercing gaze, making you straighten up in your place.

“How you…? How you were glowing the whole week as Steve said? Or probably how satisfied you looked after riding my dick?” You gasped at how straightforward he was being. Didn’t he need the space to forget any kind of thoughts regarding that night? Thoughts about you? You cleared your throat and looked away, into the horizon, avoiding his eyes completely.

“Don’t give yourself so much credit. I bet you were also in a fucking great mood this week, let’s not forget how ‘I took you so well.’” You heard a groan from him and you turned your head to look at him with a frown and he was looking at you with those sharp eyes, jaw clenched and his free hand clenching onto the rail of the balcony.

“Now it is you who is giving herself way too much fucking credit.”

“I’m literally treating you the same way you are treating me. I didn’t know you would become a fucking asshole again after I said no!” You tried to keep your voice low, but high enough for him to know you were angry. He scoffed and shook his head, taking another puff of his cigarette before he continued talking.

“Don’t you fucking remember? I can read people like the back of my hand, and that is why I’m so goddamned angry at you.” Your mouth fell open as your body burnt from… anger? You didn’t know anymore. You just felt restless, and you felt like he could see right through you at the moment. Could he see how there is a part of you that regrets telling him no? That you want to kiss him again? That you want to feel him again? Can he see all of that?

“Stop with that bullshit Eddie. Did I crush your fucking ego? Is that the issue here?” You scoffed and you saw him clench his jaw as he straightened up, chuckling under his breath. There was tension between you, both are hunters ready to pounce, there’s no small and defenseless prey here. You’re both baring your teeth out at eachother to see who breaks first.

“You’re really up on that stupid high horse, aren’t you Peach?” His voice was rough, trying his best to probably sound cruel, but all you wanted was to pull him to your lips. You really need to fucking stop. “You started the insult, and I finished it.”

“I didn’t start shit! You made fun of my lie–”

“You know what, let’s just–” He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath to then exhale, looking down at you. “-- let’s just move on from this. You slept with Jeff last saturday, that’s the lie, let’s stick to it.”

“Yes, and he had a good time with me as well, even if he wants to fucking deny it just because I don’t want to do it again.” He was containing his own anger inside and you know it. He bit his bottom lip as he gave small nods while his nose flared up. He was pissed. Absolutely pissed. You were being a fucking hypocrite, and a liar.

“Believe what you want. In the end, you seem to be the one who looked refreshed this week.” You frowned at that, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, and you didn’t?”

“Nope. I actually wasn’t refreshed. Hopefully, I can change that tonight.” You frowned in confusion as you turned to look at how he put out his cigarette on the ashtray. What did he mean? You felt nervousness as he looked at you one more time. Without saying another word he opened the sliding door and stepped inside. You stood there, processing what had just happened, wondering what he truly meant.

Was he going to try to make a move on you tonight? The tension is there, the bantering is there and you should be disgusted or afraid of him making a move but why do you feel… elated? You feel happy or giddy from knowing that he is angry yet he might come onto you again.

Should you put condoms in your bag? Maybe, it doesn’t really hurt, but– no, no. You are not fucking him again. This is final. The group reacted badly when they suspected it was Eddie, which he was, but then they sighed with relief when they ‘knew’ it wasn’t. You sighed yourself as you held onto the rail and looked out into the city.

This really wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you can’t deny you are attracted to Eddie. More than any hookup you had before. It’s like you tried him once and it was enough to make you addicted. Nobody made you feel that way… well… except–

No time to think about that. No time to think about anything. You have to go back to being friends with Eddie. You can’t be salty or angry at one another because this little adventure happened between the two of you. You don’t want to lose Eddie, and you were trying to avoid it, but in the end, it didn’t matter, because it feels like you are losing him either way.

So you took a deep breath in and walked back into the living room, not wanting to look Eddie’s way but it was like you were magnetized to him. You tried focusing on getting to know Eden, and she was really cool, very Argyle in all the good sense. She was the perfect match for him, and her alternative clothes were a contrast to Argyle’s vibrant ones. It was cute.

You were on your second beer now, minutes had passed, almost an hour, and you didn’t want to drink anymore. Eddie has not been interacting or looking your way, and you are restless for some reason. Didn’t he say– No, if he does try something the answer is no.

Even when you two were left alone in the kitchen for a whole minute, you didn’t share any words as you cleaned up to finally go to the club. You kept glancing at him, but he pretended you were non existent. Your heart ached at how he was treating you because before anything happened he was your friend first, and now you also lost that.

You opened your mouth to talk to him, tell him you didn’t mean what you said, just something for him to finally talk to you the way he always did, but you were interrupted when Jonathan came into the kitchen.

“Welp, you guys ready?” He was sober, being the designated driver this time. Eddie only drank one beer and he stopped because he was going to take the people that came with him home as well. You nodded as you closed the trash bag and walked out the kitchen.

“Is everything okay between you and Eddie?” Robin asked worriedly. You didn’t really know what to tell her. Everyone for sure noticed the cold shoulders between the both of you, or how you talked to one another before. They weren’t blind, nor deaf.

“Um we– It seems that my comment towards Jeff didn’t sit right with him. And then he insulted me back so–”

“But I saw you two talking outside?” She asked with a small slur on her tongue. You sighed and rubbed her shoulder.

“Yeah, I am not saying sorry and he isn’t either.” Robin rolled her eyes at the two of you, knowing how childish that sounded.

“So, is everyone ready to go celebrate the great Argyle’s birthday?” Steve said a little too loud and you smiled weakly at his state of drunkenness. You heard Eddie laugh at him and your stomach flipped at the sound. This stupid crush towards your friend should be gone by now. It should, you already killed that curiosity, you know how it feels, you know how he does, it should be done.

“Let’s go amigos! You’re gonna like this club!” Eden cheered at her boyfriend as you remembered your purse, walking to your room to get it. This was going to be an outing with friends, so you should act like it. You will try to do some innocent talk with Eddie, maybe things flow naturally between the two of you again if you try.

Maybe.

Or maybe fucking not.

He is avoiding you like the plague. Argyle brought you all to a club that plays Latin music mostly, so it was easy for all of you to just stand around a table, drinking as you talked, laughing when Argyle did a shot of Jagermeister and almost spit it out, but his girlfriend took it like a champ.

Steve and Robin were drunk, as always. Jonathan was sober trying to fix Steve’s hair while the other tried kissing his boyfriend, and Nancy was giddy, just hugging Robin from behind, and then Eddie… Eddie and you were sober. He was across from you, when a week ago he probably preferred to stand next to you, knowing the two of you were the single people in the group. You both shared that in common, and now you are separated while the couples around you were all over eachother.

You wanted to go dance, to distract yourself from it all, but no one was making any moves to do so. You turned around to look into the dancefloor, and the women were dancing sensually, exotic even, and then, a dark haired girl walked in front of you, her dress glistening from the lights in the club. You were mesmerized by her, not even hiding the fact you were looking at her, but she noticed, looking back at you.

She was really beautiful, and then she winked at you while walking away. Oh… That should have gotten you to make a move. To go after her, but– Fuck, why don’t you feel like going after her? You sighed, turning around to take a small sip of your glass of water only to find a pair of eyes, digging into your skull.

He was glaring your way, and you wondered if it was his ego once more. You got flirted at and he hadn’t. That’s all it was. You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your glass, turning back around to avoid looking at him again. You felt your heart accelerating as you tried to think of ways to not think about him at all.

But the more you pondered, the more you realized that you didn’t go after that girl because– Fuck, you can’t, you can’t want him! It’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s wrong. The two beers you had probably were enough to make you this stupid. You had to go dance with someone, or get away from Eddie, but you didn’t have to. Eddie was heading to the dancefloor with Steve and Argyle, the two drunks. You only guessed he was going as a chaperone for them.

But what if someone–

You looked at Eden and smiled, nodding towards the dancefloor to join the boys. She smiled back at you, linked her arm around yours, and dragged you to the middle where the guys were. You just wanted to dance, that’s the whole reason you came to dance with them. Steve immediately grabbed you and twirled you around, making you giggle at how he almost stepped all over your feet.

“I don’t know how to dance any of this shit, but I sure as hell will try!” You heard him yell and you shook your head at him, only to then be pushed on your back, making you stumble over. You gasped and tried to grab onto anyone. A pair of arms wrapped around you before you tumbled to the floor, and your face was pressed to a chest, the leather like cologne filling your nostrils, making your heart thump faster.

“Watch the fuck out!” You heard Eddie yell over the music, and then you felt as if he shoved someone. You wanted to remain here, in his arms, and then– memories of that night started coming to your mind. You felt yourself burning all over, and particularly downwards. Fuck–

“God, there was enough space for him to go through!” You heard Eden complain and then you were being pushed away, gently, the arms unwrapping from your body. You looked up to see those brown irises looking back at you, reminding you of that time where he supposedly hated you, yet still defended you from an asshole.

You don’t want this to be like that time, where he felt obligated to act heroic. He didn’t hate you now, did he? It’s just a rough patch in your relationship and you have to get over it. His hand squeezed your right shoulder and you felt shivers running down your entire spine.

“You alright?” His voice was loud but he wasn’t screaming. You gulped and nodded, feeling cold when the hand retracted. How long will it have to be for you to at least feel Eddie’s embrace again? A hug. Anything… but–

“Thanks…” You muttered under your breath. He gave a single nod, looking back at Argyle who was now trying to twerk to a song, and all you could do is stare at his side profile.

Stop. Stop. Stop. You can’t fuck him again.

He said you were jealous, and you weren’t! You were curious only! You just wanted to know if he kept hookups as friends later on. Was that so bad? Was it bad to be curious about what a friend does in their life? In their relationships? No, it isn’t. You know everything about Robin, and you just wanted to have the same level of knowledge on Eddie.

You weren’t fucking jealous. You didn’t like him that way even, it was just attraction, so how could you be jealous over someone you just like physically?

“I’m off to get water.” You heard him talk, and you saw him walk away, and now you didn’t want to dance anymore. You bit your bottom lip as you stared at him until he got lost in the crowd. You wanted to follow him and talk to him, but you couldn’t. Maybe tomorrow, because right now it is for certain he doesn’t want to talk to you at all.

“C’mon brochacha, dance with me! I’m the birthday boy!” You giggled at Argyle and he was right. You weren’t enjoying your friend’s birthday because of these stupid thoughts. Because of Eddie. You tried to calm your heart and dance with him, laughing when he tried to show you and Steve how to dance this music, and Steve just failed miserably.

You were laughing, songs passing and your worries started to leave your mind. Jonathan, Robin and Nancy joined after, but no sign of Eddie. It didn’t matter, because you were laughing as you were twirled around by Nancy. The music was not something the lot of you listened daily, but at least they were very well known songs.

Your bladder suddenly yelled at you for release. You have been holding it in for thirty minutes already, and you had to rush to the bathroom. You leaned over to Eden to yell to her over the music and into her ear so she could hear you.

“Where’s the bathroom!?”

“Next to the left side of the bar!” You nodded and gave her a thumbs up. You told everyone you were going to the bathroom and you started swimming through the sea of people. You avoided a few men that tried grabbing your hand in order to dance with you, rolling your eyes at the insistence. You finally stepped out of the dancefloor and saw the bathroom sign over the entrance of a hallway, but as you walked towards it, your head turned to the left only for your face to completely fall.

Eddie was leaning against the bar counter, smiling down at a girl. Both of them with drinks in their hands. Didn’t he say he was getting water? When did that change to alcohol? And how did he get to flirt with a girl this quickly? Your mouth was dry as you felt your belly turning, feeling your ego being crushed for some fucking reason.

You turned and walked down the hallway, your knees feeling like jelly. You rushed to get inside the lady’s room and into a stall. You could hear all the girls talk but all you could think about was Eddie’s flirtatious smile towards this stranger. You should feel happy for him, like, good for him for getting some.

You relieved yourself, knees hurting from having to hold yourself up from not touching the toilet seat, and you walked to wash your hands, looking at your reflection as foam appeared on your palms. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and why– why are you thinking like this?

You feel sick. Maybe you are sick. You felt like you wanted to puke, your stomach was turning and your throat was closing up on you. Everything was spinning and you felt dizzy, and angry, and like your dignity was fucking squashed into the floor. At least he shouldn’t flirt with her in your face? You didn’t flirt with that girl before, and he is just–

What the fuck are you thinking? He is nothing to you and you are nothing to him, so why are you thinking like this? You really do feel sick don’t you? You need to go home, but everyone wants to stay most likely, so who on earth can take you home? Maybe just order a car?

Meanwhile, Eddie was outside, in the bar, having the most boring conversation there is with a girl that started talking to him out of nowhere. He was really going to get water, but maybe this was a good opportunity to try to go back to who he was before having a taste of you.

She wasn’t exactly his type, but she was very pretty. She just seemed the typical airhead who laughs at whatever he says for his attention, the hand trick on his arm, the lip biting. Nothing like you flirted with him. It was subtle and you didn’t even know you were doing it, thinking it was simple bantering.

That’s what it was at first, and now you two are back to how you were months ago. He didn’t want to treat you the way he did, but he was angry. He knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you, and he understood you. He really did understand your point of view, and why you were so afraid, but fuck did he want you again. He knows the woman in front of him won’t satisfy him, but if he isn’t going to be able to have you, then he should just refresh his contact list.

“And then, we just like, drank a whole keg and it was insane.” Her voice was nasal, and her topic of conversation revolved around her solely. He faked a smirk, and he was already told that Argyle and Eden were heading to a motel after this. He didn’t need to know, but that leaves him with no passengers because he knows Nancy is leaving with Robin. So… he can easily take this girl back to his place.

He has to start trying to not think about your body because that’s all he did this past week. Seeing you tonight, in that dress, just made him want to grab you and take you to your room and just bend you over on all fours on your desk and rail into you, over and over again. Make you scream the way you did a week ago. But he can’t do that.

So, taking this girl back to his place is. He opened his mouth to talk to her only to be interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head, frowning in surprise as he saw you standing next to him. You were nervous, and you were a bit shaky from what he could see. He felt his stomach do a stupid twirl, and he wondered if something happened to you.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt um– I– I feel sick…” Now he was confused. His head tilted to the side in question, an eyebrow rising as he looked at you. You felt sick?

“Um… Alright Peach, go tell Jonathan.” Eddie was trying to understand why you were interrupting him, but he didn’t have to wonder for long.

“You promised me you were my ride tonight… Plus they don’t seem like they want to go…” Oh. Oh you were a fucking bitch. He didn’t make such a promise and you knew it. You saw him flirting with someone else, and just like he predicted, you became jealous, to the point of interrupting him.

“Right. You feel sick and you want to leave now, is that correct?” Your jaw clenched while looking up at him with those glossy eyes of yours. You slowly nodded at him and he had to gather his thoughts for a second, his heart thumping in his chest in excitement. He didn’t plan this at all, he really was going to respect your choice even if you were lying and he didn’t like it either.

“Aww, but I was having fun.” The girl in front of him pouted and fuck, he already forgot her name. The adrenaline of leaving with you overtaking him completely, excited to feel you around him again, hopeful to feel you cum around his cock and yell his name like seven days ago.

“I’m sorry baby, but I did promise her I was her ride for tonight.” He side-eyed you for a moment, and you were fiddling with your fingers while looking away. He wondered what you were thinking right now.

“Can I at least have your instagram? Snapchat?” His eyes turned to look at the girl in front of him again, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Sorry, I don’t own social media.” And before she could ask for his number, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, turning you towards the entrance of the club, making sure you didn’t bump into anyone. He felt you tense up under his touch, or shiver, but it filled him with pride knowing he was making you feel this way just by touching your shoulder.

Once you two were out, he let go of your shoulders and he saw you looking back at the club, and then continued walking next to him. He didn’t see you drink, just at your home and those two beers. He knows you are not drunk, and you did whatever you did back there completely conscious.

The car was not far away, and there were no words exchanged by the two of you. His heart was beating loudly, hearing his blood flowing, already feeling his belly burn with need. He couldn’t believe how primal he became when you were next to him now. You were a fucking drug.

He opened the passenger’s seat for you and you looked at him as you slowly got inside, your eyes never breaking contact with one another’s. He felt his hands itching to touch you, knowing he is a few minutes away to actually get to touch you the way he did a week ago. He closed the door and while rounding the car, he messaged Argyle and Nancy to tell them he is taking you home because you were really sick.

He wondered if they were going to buy that lie. He honestly didn’t actually care, not when his stomach turned with adrenaline at the thought of eating you out again, or feel you cum around his cock, very tight at the base, bottoming out completely inside of you. He got into the driver’s seat and he saw you were texting, probably Jonathan since he was the sober one.

But, he didn’t see excitement in your face. He could detect hints of doubt, of worry, embarrassment? He was about to talk when your phone started ringing, your eyes frowning in confusion and answering it.

“Hello?” You asked and motioned for him to start driving. He started the car and he got out of the parking space to start driving… to your house? His? “Robin, you are drunk– I’m– Yeah, I’m fine! Eddie is taking me home.”

To your house it is, okay. He leaned over to talk over the phone so that Robin could hear him talk, knowing she won’t remember shit from this night.

“We’re gonna go have sex with eachother Robin!” He felt you push his shoulder, and he could hear how Robin went ‘That’s impossible!’ and he snorted as he kept his eyes on the road. You cursed under your breath as you got on the phone with Robin again.

“He– Of course he lied, god Robin– Yes, I do feel sick… Uh huh.” You closed your eyes, head thumping on the headrest of your seat as you kept listening to your friend. He fixed himself on his own because– for some reason, there was anger bubbling inside of him, and he was hoping his intuition was wrong. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.”

He saw you hang up and sigh, putting the phone into your purse again. Should he ask? Should he just drive to your place without a word? He was never in this position and now he is realizing just how different it is to fuck a stranger from a friend.

“So… sick huh.” He started and you gulped, staring out your window.

“Y-Yeah… I’m honestly feeling icky. Nauseous and stuff.” And he frowned, his gut already turning with a bad feeling, an awful taste in his mouth at your words. Were you serious? No, he definitely knows you are lying.

“Wait, you’re actually sick?”

“Yeah, I was– in the bathroom trying not to puke before talking to you.” And– Oh he was pissed.

“You– Oh my fucking god!” His foot stepped on the gas, and his speed raised a bit more as he turned left, completely getting off the route to your house. You gasped as you held onto the handle above the window, and he knew you were a bit afraid, but he wanted to murder you right now.

“What the fuck Munson! Take me home!” You could see how the buildings started becoming smaller, then houses–

“No, you and I are going to have a fucking talk, Peach.” He gave you an unamused laugh as you saw the trees coming closer, your stomach turning wildly from nerves, of anger, of excitement? You are not sure anymore. You didn’t do anything wrong. You truly felt sick, you could feel it.

“We don’t have to talk about anything! I just need to get home to rest–” You hear him groan loudly at your response and he turns onto a dirt road, making the car swing around as he gets deeper into the trees around you. You knew there was some kind of countryside outside of the city, but not with trees. It looks more like an ecological park than anything.

Suddenly he comes to a stop, both of you jerking forward, stopped by your seatbelts. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest as you looked at him, wide-eyed. He turned off the headlights, leaving your surroundings in complete darkness, and the only thing illuminating the inside of his car was the small navigating screen in the middle.

“You are a fucking bitch, you know that?” His voice was low as he almost ripped the seatbelt off of him, running a hand over his face. He couldn’t really believe what you just did, and the fact you are denying it is bringing back all those old feelings he had for you again. How much he hated seeing you lie over and over again in front of Robin. Lying about who you were. But this time, this involves him, and you are lying into his face and even fucking his night over.

“Excuse me? What the hell is your problem!?” You were angry at him because he basically kidnapped you, taking you far away from the city and your friends, and all you wanted was to get home and curl up in your bed. Didn’t you?

“My problem? Oh, I don’t know, the fact I was about to score a fuck for tonight until you showed up and demanded me to take you home, LYING that I promised to be your drive back, when we both know I didn’t agree to shit!” He was looking at you, both of your chests going up and down with heavy breaths. You felt your belly dropping lower and lower, the consequences of your actions now coming clean in front of your face, but you won’t admit that to him.

“I– I had to do it because no one wanted to leave! That’s that!”

“And your best option was to lie to me, when you knew I was actually busy? You’re full of fucking bullshit and you know I know it.” His eyes were like daggers into your skull, your soul, your heart. He could see you and he could feel your lies and your tricks. It’s not that you didn’t want him to be with someone else, you just felt sick at the moment, that’s all.

“I felt sick! I really did!” You squealed out, making him huff as he let out a fake chuckle, shaking his head.

“Yeah, sick because I was going to stick my dick in someone else’s cunt and not yours.” Your whole stomach, intestines, and lungs made a turn, knocking the air out of you in an instant. How dare he? How fucking dare he say that about you when it was nothing like that?

It wasn’t.

“I– The world doesn’t revolve around you Munson! Why would I care about something like that? The fuck you think you are? The best I’ve ever had or some shit?” You wanted to scoff at that because you were lying. You were fucking lying but you cannot admit it to him. His face turned to you, a glare directed into your soul and you felt a shiver run down your whole body.

“I fucking know I am the best you’ve ever had. And I know you are regretting saying it was a one-time thing.”

Your body was set aflame at that, and you knew you were becoming aroused each second that passed. You were aroused at the bantering? Were you for real? You couldn’t do this, you had to get home because you were feeling your body tremble with adrenaline as your stomach did somersaults.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, you know that?” He was angry, you could see it in the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, how he was looking at you with murderous eyes, and you didn’t really have a way to defend yourself at this point but just keet arguing with him.

“Me? Fine princess. I’ll just pretend you admitted you regretted your fucking choices and so you ruined my night.” You were fuming, thighs rubbing together as your impulsiveness started to get hold of you. Your hands were restless as you looked at him, whole body flushed and burning from inside out.

“Admit!? I didn’t admit shit, and it wasn’t like that! Why can’t you just accept that!?” Your voices were loud, and you were glad no one was around you, at least nowhere close.

“Because you’re a fucking liar Peach!” His whole body was turned to you and you felt your heart hammering in your chest, blood pumping in your ears and your breath was heavy and elaborated. Your eyes were scanning his eyes, his lips as they moved, the vein on his neck, his hand as he flayed it around when he talked.

“Why the fuck would I lie about something like that!?” You gritted out of your teeth and you could feel the tension inside the car, how the air became heavy, two predators waiting for one to pounce onto the other. You dug your nails into your thighs as he rolled his eyes at you, a final scoff out of his lips.

“The sooner you admit it, the sooner we can get this over with and fuck eachother stupid, because I know you want that as much as I do.” Your mouth fell open at that, jaw dropping to your thighs almost. Your hands gripped onto your seatbelt that was still tight on you, glaring at him with sharp eyes.

“No, I do not.” He lets out a chuckle at that, shaking his head and then giving you one nod as his tongue licks on his bottom lip, trying to contain himself, his eyes looking forward and out of the windshield.

“Alright, then it’s done. I’ll take you home and I’ll go back to the club.” Your heart hammered in your chest because, why? It’s already late, he wouldn’t be able to get in. Would he? You felt your entire skin burning, your fingertips up in flames as well as your cheeks. Your body trembled and you couldn’t pinpoint why. It felt like a mixture of things, adrenaline, excitement, euphoria, anger, and– your ego being squashed.

That is all it fucking was. Your pride being destroyed right on your face. Why do you feel like this when you were the one who made the decision? He wanted to keep doing it but you refused and– You didn’t want him to fuck another girl, at least not in front of you.

Because you know you were the best he ever had.

You unbuckled your seatbelt, the noise of it making Eddie turn to look at you, your body immediately reaching for him over the console. You heard him take a sharp intake of breath, as if in a hiss, meeting you in the middle, the both of you breathing heavily, desperate for one another. Your hands grasped his face, his left hand moving to your waist, right hand on the back of your neck, and you two gave one another one final look, before closing your eyes and hungrily taking eachother’s lips.

You kissed him with the purpose of taking his breath away. You wanted to leave no air at all in his lungs as the lip smacking could be heard inside the car, loudly so. Your fingernails went into his scalp, earning a groan from his part. You wanted to die from embarrassment because you realized how desperate you were to separate your thighs for him, so you rubbed them together as his hand on your waist gripped even harder, his fingertips digging into the fabric of your dress.

Your heads turned from side to side as the kiss grew more fierce, rougher, and sloppier. You wanted to feel him again, rub yourself on him, get him inside of you as quickly as possible. You don’t even know if you have the strength to go to his or your house at this point, the need being too unbearable.

You moaned into his mouth when his hand moved downwards, gripping your ass and you felt a sweat moving all over your body, drenching you from how hot the car felt. How hot you felt. He chuckled into the kiss at your moan which earned him a tug on his hair from your part. He growled into his throat and his hand left your ass. You wanted to whine at the loss of touch, but then he pulled away, making the both of you look at one another, and then, his seat went all the way backwards, away from the steering wheel, his left hand on the lever underneath his seat.

You didn’t hesitate, not a single second, your breathing heavy as you moved quickly over the console, not caring if you were flashing him at all, you just needed to sit down on the bulge you could clearly see on his pants. Feel him once more because who were you going to lie to right now? Lie about how you didn’t think of messaging him all week and tell him to fuck what you said before? Lie about how you were close to visiting him at his shop and probably suck his cock under his desk?

Yeah, whatever friendship you had with Eddie, it’s gone.

Your knees were against the leather seat, one on each side of his hips and your hands cradled his face once again, leaning down to kiss his lips just like seconds before. Your head was bumping slightly against the roof of the car but you didn’t care. It will be a bit uncomfortable but it’s not something you really care for right now.

His right hand gripped the lever on the side to lean the back of his seat downwards, just slightly, not all the way. You didn’t stop kissing him for a second, and then your hips collided with his and he couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, almost a whimper, which you reciprocated with a moan of your own. You could feel him through your wet underwear, rubbing deliciously against you and the zipper’s fly of his pants catching onto your aching clit.

Your hips were rubbing against him aggressively, not caring if he noticed how desperate you were because, by how his hands started gripping your waist, and by how his own hips swayed on the seat back and forth with you tells you he was in the exact same situation as you were.

Eddie grunted into the kiss as he felt his dick become harder, twitch at every movement, and he was probably leaking a lot of precum already. This whole week had been torturous for him, not being able to get you out of his head and no matter how many times he jerked off and dedicated his cum to your name, it wasn’t enough.

And right now, this wasn’t what he had planned. He had planned to meet a chick at the club to take home and try to satiate himself with her, even if he knew damn well it wasn’t going to work out, he still wanted to try. He didn’t expect your jealousy, or whatever it is called because the two of you do not like eachother, not in that way.

This was just physical attraction.

He knew he was territorial. He had his reasons to, but you, you were a mystery to him. Maybe it was your ego, your pride, and it probably really was. Maybe if you weren’t there and you found out later, you wouldn’t have cared. Would he care if he found out about you sleeping with someone else? Missing a night out and to find out you went out and fucked some guy or girl–

The thought made his mind spin, his right hand flying up to grip the back of your head, yanking onto your hair so you would open your mouth. A gasp escaped you, your lips parting over his, and he took this opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth in order to meet yours. Your moans filled his throat and he felt as if he came back to life once more after the fucking week he had.

Your hands, now clawed onto his shoulders, nails digging into the stupid shirt he is wearing that looks way too good on him and you want to see it in complete shreds. Your hips started circling onto him, and you moaned into his mouth as your clit was rubbed on, your cunt just getting wetter at each roll. His hips were jerking upwards, his need to be inside of you growing each second.

You were pathetically clenching around nothing. Fuck, he felt too good, and you were so stupid for saying that it should have been a one-time thing only, and he is not even inside you yet. His dick is still inside his pants and you already felt cockdrunk on him, but it feels too good to stop. You could already feel the coil in your belly turning, finally pleased to have what it has been craving for.

His tongue was greedily licking onto yours, tasting you and devouring you, eating you whole. He wanted to eat you out again, have your pussy in his mouth, and make you crumble under his touch, but it seems there is going to be another time after this. Your hands went down his chest, and your breaths were heavy against eachother, and he couldn’t help but feel… victorious. He gripped your hair in order to pull away from you, keeping his lips close to yours and he smirked when a whimper fell from your pouted and puffy lips.

“One time thing my fucking ass, right Peach?” Your eyes were glistening with lustful tears, and you glared at him, grunting at his cockiness. You responded by rolling your hips against his, making him choke on his breath.

“Shut the fuck up Munson, my pussy drove you so mad that you didn’t think rationally at all. One of us had to be the voice of reason, and it wasn’t going to be you.” At your response, his eyes looked at you with a murderous stare, and his nostrils were flaring up at you, showing how pissed off your comment made him.

But you were right on that.

He wanted you so bad that he didn’t want to see how it would affect the entire group and not just the two of you. He wanted to be inside of you again so bad that he was willing to risk it all. He wanted you again. He needed you again. But you are never going to hear that coming from his mouth.

“You say that, yet I had the intention of taking someone home tonight, and trust me Peach, you weren’t a choice.” And now it was your turn to glare into his eyes because, how fucking dare he? How dare he say something like that to you? Why does that hurt you? Why do you feel so angry? Why does it feel like he just carved a hole somewhere in your body?

Your hand flew to grip his chin, tilting his head back as his hand let go of your hair, letting you dive into his neck and biting him. It wasn’t that harsh, but it was enough to sink your teeth in if just a little bit. He winced, clenching his eyes as he felt his whole body tremble at the sensation. You were marking him up. Fuck, if only you knew what it was doing to him.

His dick twitched in his pants, making him groan in pain at how much pressure was being put onto him, your relentless rubbing against him making it all worse. His breathing was shaky, your tongue now lapping at the part where you had bitten. You proceeded to kiss him there, the burning in your belly becoming even more unbearable.

You pulled away from him with a pop, trying to not hit the roof of the car with your head, and his hands gripped onto your jacket, pulling it down your shoulders and you helped him with taking it off. His mouth latched onto your neck this time, and you sat down on his thighs as you sighed in delight at his kisses. He knew he couldn’t mark you now, it would be too obvious since he probably has your fucking teeth engraved in his neck right now.

Your hands went to his pants, and you thanked the heavens he didn’t wear a belt today. It was just a matter of seconds before you had unbuttoned him and pulled the fly of his zipper down. You were so close, and then– he pulled away.

“Shit, fuck–”

“What is it?” You were infuriated. Why was he stopping? Why was he stopping you now?

“I don’t have a condom sweetheart, and as much as I would love to fuck you raw, who knows what dick’s been in there.” That earned him a bite to his bottom lip this time, making him whimper against you. Fuck. This was another side of you that he never expected. He loved it. No one ever treated him like this, as if he was owned, as if he should know his place. This was new. You were new.

“I’m more worried about where your dick’s been. I have condoms in my purse.” And that earned you a smirk from him, his bottom lip now red and pulsing from your bite.

“So, you came prepared.”

“And who says you were a choice?” At that, Eddie only leans in towards you, and you could see him inhaling, how his pupils dilated even more for just a second, and then focused on your face once again.

“Oh baby, I know I was your only choice.” His and your eyes were locked on one another, fire and sparks flying between the two of you. Your jaw clenched, looking at the purse sitting on the passenger’s seat and then back at him.

“You’re gonna put it on or not?” And his hand flew to reach your purse, without taking his eyes off you. He hands it to you and you take just one second to stick your hand in and then into the small side pocket to take the condom out. You could see your phone lighting up from the movement, and that you had notifications, more than thirty minutes passed since you left the club. It can wait.

He threw the purse back to the side, and you raised yourself a bit from his thighs as you opened the condom with your teeth. He was mesmerized by you, not being able to take his eyes off you as he raised his hips to push his pants and boxers down to his bent knees. You took the latex out of the foil and you threw it away, not caring where it landed really.

You looked down to see his cock, up, alert, red, and leaking for you. You wanted to bend down and lick it clean, to taste it again, but your pussy is begging for it. It has been begging for it for the past week. You gulped as you felt your mouth watering, the back of your head touching the roof of the car from being kneeled on the seat.

Eddie was seeing how you were biting your bottom lip, looking down at his cock and– fuck you were going to be the death of him because if he is not inside you in the next three seconds, he is going to explode. He grabbed the condom from your hand, and immediately rolled it down, holding in a pathetic moan from finally feeling some friction, but it’s stupid to feel it from his own hands.

Your left hand pressed on his shoulder as the right one lifted the hem of your dress up towards your stomach, keeping it bunched up there, finally revealing your underwear to him. He licked the inside of his cheek as he saw how you pushed your thong to the side, and fuck– he could see it. He could see how sticky your underwear was to your pussy from how wet you were. He felt his heart punching his chest with the need to go down on you again, but you didn’t give him time to think at all.

You were already guiding yourself on top of him, the head of his cock gliding between your folds and catching onto your clit, making you moan with relief. Your body shook with adrenaline as Eddie’s hands went to your hips, bracing himself for the moment he had been dreaming of for days. He should have put music on because this was going to be loud, he knew it–

His thoughts were shut off as you started sinking down on him, no need for foreplay, no time for it. It was stupid to try to stop this. It was stupid to try to make this a one-time thing. It was stupid to try to make it seem as if the attraction was not there. It was stupid to try to deny that the year of hatred just made you both want eachother even more. Craving a friendship, or this, you don’t know.

A smile spread on your lips while you bit your bottom lip, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling of finally having him inside, and you couldn’t wait to feel like last saturday again. Full. Satisfied. Relaxed. You didn’t notice how Eddie was fighting off closing his own eyes so he could drink you in. You were smiling while taking his cock, slowly, inch by inch. Fuck, he can’t wait to feel you around him, to feel you pulsating, throbbing, and then the clench. That delicious fucking clench.

He threw his head back on the headrest as your mouth finally opened with a silent moan, and you looked down to where the two of you were connecting, finally opening your eyes. Your left hand on his shoulder while the other gripped the roof handle on his side for some leverage. If you didn’t, then you were for sure going to sink down at once, and even if you know you can take him, you also know you didn’t stretch yourself out first. You’re wet enough to go slow, but not to immediately slam down on him like you did last time.

“Oh, holy fuck…” He moaned out, breaths leaving his lungs in huffs, holding himself back from thrusting his hips upwards. The more you took him, the more he was beginning to lose control of his movements. He didn’t want you to be in charge, that was his job… but fuck, you looked so good like this.

You could feel him filling you up, finally swallowing up his base, noticing how his back arched from the backrest, just slightly, as well as a whimper leaving his lips. He looks so good, he feels so good. Your breath was completely out of your lungs as you adjusted to his size, walls fluttering around him, pulsating, sucking him in and not letting him go anywhere anytime soon.

He let out a loud grunt, almost a growl, opening his eyes when your hips finally touched his. He was breathing heavily through his nose as he looked where you clearly swallowed him whole, his cock deep inside of you, and your face did not show a single sign of pain, of hurt, of displeasure. He had some doubts from last time, that maybe the euphoria of it all let you take him the way you did but– no… No, you could take him.

You can fucking take him.

“God, yes...” You breathed out when you felt the tip of his cock just touch you in places you’ve never felt before, or in a while. You weren’t sure, and you really weren’t. All you know is that now you feel amazing, and that’s what matters, that he feels amazing. Your left hand gripped his shoulder tightly, your pussy suddenly clenching around him, making his eyes go wide, and his hips jerk upwards. You gasped at the feeling, the back of your head knocking on the roof, just gently.

“Shit– Sorry Peach– But fuck do you feel good…” His ass was back on the seat, and you took the opportunity to hover a little longer so his cock would slide out of you a few inches, and then you slammed yourself against him, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Your eyes were glistening, the pleasure taking over your features and body.

“You feel good Eddie, so good–” You could admit that to him, just like he was to you. You rolled your hips against him, your G-spot being rubbed on and your mouth fell open in silent moans. Eddie could only grip your thighs, trying not to dig his fingertips into your flesh, not wanting to hurt you but–

It was as if the two of you were made for eachother.

You raised yourself from him, only to move down again, swaying your hips just slightly as you did so. He let out a sigh of pleasure, rolling his head over the headrest as he felt you start to create a tempo slowly. He could feel how deep he was inside of you, and he kept wondering how it was possible. But just like last time, maybe some things just have no answers. ‘Because it can’ and it was as simple as that.

You were now moaning a louder, your moves quickening as you felt him glide inside of you, feeling every vein and ridge of his shaft. You felt like you were floating on clouds by how good it felt, only the burning on your thighs from the work you were putting into bringing you back to earth.

He saw how there was some drool pooling at the corner of your mouth as it remained open with noises coming out of it each time you went down on his cock. He could also hear the squelching sound of your juices, of your wetness all around him. You look so beautiful and perfect right now, he can’t help it. He leaned forward, his right hand moving to the back of your neck to pull you downwards and clash his lips onto yours.

You moaned into the kiss as your right hand now rested on his left shoulder, mimicking your left one. You kissed him back, instantly melting your tongue with his, savoring him once again as you kept moving your hips, up and down, quicker, faster, rougher, and his left hand moved from your thigh to your ass and then–

SMACK.

You gasped into the kiss, pulling away for just a second, your right ass cheek burning from the slap it received.

“Eddie–!” His hand pulled you back to his lips by the back of your neck. You moaned into the kiss, his hand now rubbing the area where he slapped and you just rutted your hips against him, the tip of his cock just abusing your g spot, tipping you closer and closer towards the edge.

You didn’t feel like yourself and Eddie didn’t either. It was weird to think that the two of you were just friends a few weeks ago and now you are roughly fucking inside his car, like two horny teenagers. The windows of it all fogged up, and you are pretty sure your moans can be heard from the fucking city.

Your belly burnt and twisted, and you felt like it was going to explode. Your orgasm was coming closer and closer and Eddie could feel it all around his cock. Your walls were throbbing against him and in all honesty, Eddie had been thinking about this for so long that his own orgasm was coming quicker than normal. He grunted when he raised his hips and then set a brutal pace on you, pistoning his hips into you, the slapping of hips loud inside the small room in the car.

You pulled away from the kiss, holding onto his shoulders and feeling his fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. He had a death grip on you, helping him pull you down towards him as he thrust upwards into you.

“So well. Taking me so fucking well Peach–” He groaned as he felt beads of sweat falling from the side of his face, your moans and the squelch of your pussy a degenerate but blissful sound in his ears.

“Eddie– Eddie– oh fuck–” Your belly coiled, pussy clenching around him which made him stutter, feeling himself getting closer. He wished he wasn’t, just to make you time two, maybe three times around his cock, but his body was betraying him tonight. He gave one deep thrust before pulling his hips back down onto the seat, making you slam down on him, a loud grunt escaping him.

You started moving desperately, trying to chase your high, needing it, and Eddie was just letting you use him at your disposal. You were moaning his name like your life depended on it and he was loving it. His right hand left the back of your neck to push one of the straps of your dress down, as well as the strap of your bralette.

He almost ripped the cup of the lace off you but he wasn’t going to risk being yelled at by you, so he pulled it downwards, making your left breast pop out. His mouth immediately latched on your neck, kissing it sloppily. You were dizzy, your mind completely shut off thanks to pleasure as your hips kept moving on him, feeling the drag of his cock against your walls, and the tip of it hit you deliciously where you needed him the most.

You felt him unlatch from your neck to then feel your nipple being pinched by teeth. You let out a pathetic whine, a whimper, and you hear him moan against you as his lips envelop your nipple and he starts sucking on it, making you sweat all over as you feel your orgasm as if it were about to murder you.

He could feel you, smell you, and you were driving him absolutely mad. He was throbbing, begging for release, but he was holding himself back trying to wait for you to cum around him first. He needs to feel it. He lets go of your nipple with a pop and he presses his forehead against your collarbone, his face twisting as his entire body starts to shake from the impending orgasm.

“Peach– I’m going to fucking cum, fuck–” And for some reason, knowing she was making him cum by just riding him stupid was the drop that tipped over the glass.

“Ed– Ed– Eddie–!” Your eyebrows were met in the middle as your mouth remained open with breathless moans as your walls clenched tightly all around him, making you stop moving. He threw his head back onto the headrest, feeling himself being engulfed by you, trapped by you around his base and it felt too good.

“You feel so fucking good baby, god fucking damnit–” You were trembling on top of him as he moved back and forth in the seat so his cock would drag inside of you, helping you ride your orgasm out, and he realized you came with penetration only. His hands held onto your thighs now, his hips thrusting as much as they could, his breath coming out ragged as he still felt you spasming around him, and clenching on him. “-- sh-SHIT!”

He pushed your thighs down on him, seething himself deep inside of you, finally letting a loud cry escape your lips, and he clenched his eyes as he moaned your name, his seed spilling into the condom in huge spurts, and in great quantities. His hips twitched underneath you, the vein in his neck popping off from the intensity of the orgasm. He felt so good, so satisfied, his breathing coming in heavy as well as yours as you both finally relaxed, him on the seat and you over him.

The crescent moon marks on his shoulders thanks to your nails, your heart threatening to just give up on you at any moment, the fogginess of your climax starting to slowly wear off the more you catch your breath. Your legs were shaking, spasming every now and then and he winced from the overstimulation around him.

With one hand he managed to press the button to pull the window down, letting the cool air come in and it felt like a punch to the face, a punch of reality. You felt quite shocked suddenly, pulling the strap of your bra and dress over your shoulder, fixing it on you. Eddie was just like you, just staring at your middle because the adrenaline started to wear off and– fuck.

You slowly moved your hips upwards, pulling him out of you, earning a wince from the two of you. You saw the filled condom, making the situation more real than just a passing dream. You were trying to catch your breath yet as you moved, trying not to make a fool of yourself and just fall on your face, going back to the passenger seat, stepping over the console. Once seated, you fixed your dress, looking forward completely wide eyed, feeling your juices dampening your now fixed underwear, covering you once more.

Eddie was staring at the windshield, starting to get clearer, the fog of it coming off thanks to the window being open. He gulped as he looked down and took off the condom, hearing you still fixing yourself on the passenger’s seat. He tied the latex up, and opened the small trash can container that is underneath the radio. He has to remember to take it out the next day.

He fixed his pants, then the seat and then it was just silence as the two of you looked forward into nothingness. You were slowly putting your jacket back on, and then you could hear just how quiet the outside was, making the entire situation even more embarrassing.

“We… have to talk… but tomorrow–” You started, and he quickly answered.

“Agreed.” He knows the two of you are quite in a state of shock right now, so talking about this now was not the best idea. He sees you putting your seatbelt on, so he copies your movements, and before he can ask–

“Want to… sleep over?”

end of chapter 18

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a/n: it's all uphill from here

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