#he probably wouldn't taste anything else but it's the thought that counts

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Gale's a good cook, right? Good enough to be the camp's go-to chef, at least. I imagine that when he starts to get closer to Astarion and Gale starts to try and woo him, he starts to learn more blood based recipes. Blood sausages, blood stir fry, blood tofu, etc. He wants to cook something for Astarion so he doesn't feel left out at dinner time. And while Astarion would prefer human blood to animal blood, he appreciates the thought Gale puts into making food just for him. Cue Astarion trying to (badly) hide how much he's falling for the wizard.

[parfaitblogs]

risk ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you have the sweetest regular, and it’s probably too soon to tell him you love him!

pairing: spencer reid x barista!reader genre: fluff tags: s1 spencer. who rambles. biblically accurate career!reader sorry if some of the coffee talk makes no sense to you. reader makes all the first moves. y'all kiss (aww). written in timeskip sorta it's not crazy (like maybe a month). not proofread sorryyy (im not). word count: 2.2k a/n: first instalment of my spencer reid eras tour🙂‍↕️ season 1 spencer reid i freaking adore you. he's so cute. gif!! i thought gifs in this series could be cute lol. envisioned 1x10 spencer bc of his nightmares if that means anything. enjoyyy ily im off to work 🏃 

series masterlist

There are many reasons you come to work each morning. The money (an obvious one), your coworkers who usually make each day a little bit more bearable. And Spencer. A regular who had become a little notorious for having an odd coffee order, that most of the store workers hated making. 

Except for you. 

It wasn't especially odd. But in a store that thrived on making the perfect cup of coffee, sometimes it meant remaking it three or four times because the shots didn't pour at the right amount of time, and recalibrating the machine was a hassle you all didn't want to deal with in the middle of the morning rush he usually came during. 

You had taken note of him the first few times he came in — always keeping to himself, flashing the most awkward smile you think you've ever seen on a human being, and ordering his old order (a large latte with as much sugar as you could fit in the cup). It was by the seventh time that had you thinking of him a little more often than just while you were at work. 

He looked a lot more exhausted than usual. His usually tame hair now loose and hanging over his face as he took a weary step towards the counter, fingers brushing strands away and tucking them behind his ears. 

"The latte, right?" you had asked him, and he had frozen, and you stood in fear of this not being the Spencer you thought he was, and you had just asked a total stranger about a coffee they've never ordered. 

But then he let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "Uh, no. Not today. Um—do you guys have a limit on how much coffee I can have?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "No... we don't. I wouldn't recommend any more than like five shots in our largest size, though. It'd probably taste gross. But we can add as much as you need."

"Five's good. Yeah," he nodded his head, fingers wrapped tightly around the leather strap of his messenger bag. 

"Just... a five shot latte?" you clarified, and he froze again, shaking his head once more. 

"Do you recommend anything else? I—uh, I want it to be sweet enough still."

"I can do you a mocha?" you offered. "White chocolate mocha if you're looking for it to be even sweeter."

"I'll try that," he nodded his head, and out came his awkward smile, which had you smiling back just as awkwardly. 

Which was how he got to his current usual. It honestly became a test to ensure your coffee machines were actually running well, considering pulling five well-done espresso shots at once was no easy feat. And, again, most of your coworkers hated making his drink. 

Which was why it was palmed off to you. Every single morning without fail. And maybe in another universe you would join them in the hatred for this man's frustrating drink order. But then, in that universe, you wouldn't get to talk to him every morning (and slowly break him out of whatever shell he had locked himself up in). 

"I never asked," you began, staring at him over the top of the coffee machine while putting white chocolate fudge into the bottom of the cup. "Why did you change your order randomly?"

He parted his lips and his eyebrows creased together for a few seconds, as if he was deciding whether or not to tell you. You were kind of grateful he concluded on trusting you. 

"I wasn't really sleeping. When I asked about changing my order," he explained, hands letting go of the bag strap so he could talk with them. "Then I guess I just liked the taste of it? And it kept me awake. Which is a bonus."

"I can imagine it would," you nodded your head in agreement, flashing him a small smile, which he returned, bashfully. "Why weren't you sleeping?"

He went silent, and you almost cursed yourself for asking. Maybe you had gone too far. It was why, when you had begun to busy yourself with making his drink a little faster, you jumped when he spoke up again.

"I was getting these nightmares," he said, and your head lifted from the milk you were steaming. "Because of what I do for work."

"Law, right?" you asked, and he let out a small laugh, tucking hair behind his ear. 

"Sort of. I'm with the FBI."

"Oh, that's right," you replied, nodding your head in recognition. He had said that to you at some point in the earlier days when he first started coming in, because you had asked where he works so close by to be coming in as often as he did. "Can you tell me what part? Or is that confidential?"

"No, no, I can. I'm with the Behavioural Analysis Unit," when your face twisted into confusion, he added, "We use psychology to analyse serial killers and catch them. Well, not just serial killers, actually. But that's what we focus on."

"And it works?" you asked, eyebrows rising as you placed a lid atop his coffee, sliding it out on the pick-up section where he was standing by. His face fell slightly, and so you were quick to add, "Not—I didn't mean it like that. I just mean I'm shocked. That psychology is all you really need to catch a serial killer."

"It's not all we need. There's a lot of other elements that go into finding one. But our primary focus is how their brain works and we use behavioural science to figure that out. Actually, we used to be called the Behavioural Science Unit when it was first created."

He was too busy talking animatedly with his hands for him to have picked up his coffee, and you were too busy watching him with a smile to remind him it was ready. 

When he did reach for it, you could feel the familiar pang of disappointment that had started shooting through you every time he was picking up his coffee and leaving. A weird sensation that left you clawing at the walls of your brain to come up with something to say to keep him there. 

It was probably why you blurted out, "Are you seeing anyone?" Which was followed by stunned silence from him, and regretful silence from yourself. What a question. 

Slowly, he began to shake his head, his lips twitching into a confused frown. "No. I'm—I'm not." 

It shocked you a little. He wasn't jaw dropping, per se. But he was attractive. You had said it a few times to your coworkers whenever they asked why you talked to him so much — there was a running joke that you were already secretly dating him behind their backs. Not funny.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to..." you hesitated. "Go out for dinner? Maybe? I'm so sorry if I'm totally overstepping. In fact, I encourage you to say no, because this is a little weird. I'm so sorry," you rambled when you were met with only silence from him, wondering if you had weirded him out of the ability to talk. 

"With me?" he pushed out, his voice a little higher pitched than usual, and you nodded your head, because maybe he wasn't weirded out. Maybe you had just flustered him. You hoped so, at least.

"Yeah," you said. "Is that weird? Or is it okay? To ask that?"

"It's okay. Yeah. Yes. I would love—like to. I mean, that would be nice. Yeah," he stammered, and you smiled. 

"Here," you held your hand out and gestured for his coffee, taking it back and picking up a Sharpie to write your number atop the lid, before you slid it back to him. "I get off work at one. Call me?"

"I will," he nodded, eyes fixated on the number for a few seconds more, before he returned his eyes to you. "I will. Um—bye!" he took a step back, and you let out a loud laugh when he stumbled into a chair behind him. 

He was sheepish as he waved to you, bidding you another goodbye, the sound of the bell above the door ringing once, and then again when it fell shut. 

And you had, somehow, secured a date with Spencer.

Which turned into two dates. Then three. And then, with some weird stroke of luck and twist of fate, you were spending every evening you could at his apartment, and him at yours. 

But you were yet to kiss. 

Not by any particular reason. Really, nothing either of you did ever really called for a kiss. Which was as frustrating as it was understandable. Frustrating, because you felt like you were simply friends, who sometimes went out for dinner, and had feelings for each other. But he had told you very early on he'd never been with anyone before, let alone ever been on a date. Hence; understandable. 

But frustration was more overwhelming than you had thought, because you were on his couch, blanket draped over both of your bodies, as he read you a book — The Chameleon. A short story by Anton Chekhov (an author whom you were only barely familiar with). And yet, all you could think about was kissing him. 

In your defence, he was very kissable, as you stared at his lips while he spoke, your heart stuttering quite uncomfortably in your chest. You weren't sure what it was precisely about him that made him like that. Maybe it was the natural pout of his lips, or how they twitched in humour at the little jokes Chekhov had written into the book that only made sense in Russian, despite him attempting to translate it for you. 

Whatever it was, it was overriding your senses, and in true Spencer fashion, he hadn't noticed you weren't intently listening to his reading until he glanced down to catch a reaction to something he said. You caught as he closed the book and placed it off to the side, jostling you from your haze. 

"You don't like the book, do you?" he asked, and you were quick to shake your head. 

"No, I do," which was true. The parts you were actively listening to you enjoyed. "Sorry, I'm distracted."

"By what?" he shifted on the couch to face you.

You fell silent at that, the answer hanging on the tip of your tongue, unsure whether or not saying it could ruin things. You didn't think it would. "You."

"I'm distracting?" he asked, eyebrows creasing together and a confused frown pulling his lips down. 

Which confused you. "Yes?"

"I don't think I'm meant to be sorry for that," he said. "But I am."

"You shouldn't be," you breathed out with a small laugh. 

"Right," he nodded his head, laughing too, awkwardly. "How am I distracting?"

You studied his face for a few moments, which ended up being a pathetic excuse for a lip study, because you were fixated on them again, and you decided Spencer probably didn't even realise that that was what you were doing. 

"We haven't kissed yet," you told him, instead. 

"No. We haven't," he agreed. 

"Do you just not want to kiss me?" you asked.

He did that thing he does when he's thinking — furrowed eyebrows and parted lips, eyes blinking a few times, before he comes up with his response. 

"I just don't want you to be disappointed. I've never kissed anyone before."

"I concluded that," you answered. "I won't be disappointed."

"You might be," he mumbled, and his gaze averted from your own, which had another smile stretching across your lips. 

"Only one way to find out, right?"

He hesitated before nodding his head, lifting his eyes back up to look at you. It was then that you learned that, like everything else, you might have to make the first move on him. Again.

The thought made you laugh, and though he wanted to, he didn't get a chance to question why you were laughing, because your hands were on his face and you were pulling him into you, lips meeting his in a gentle kiss that elicited a surprised squeak from him. 

"You've gotta kiss me back," you murmured against his lips, and his response was a quiet 'oh'. 

But he was a fast learner, because soon after he was. Objectively, it wasn't the best kiss you've ever had in your life. But it got better by the second, and he was doing enough to make your heart stutter in your chest, his hands reaching up to cup your own face, palms and fingers covering the mass of your cheeks. 

His hands there provided him the ability to keep you there, and you had to pry them off your face so you were able to pull back for air, breaths coming out in short pants. Only for a short second, because he was chasing your lips again, and you laughed, before letting him kiss you again. And again. And again. 

Until both of you were out of air, and he was glassy-eyed and pink-lipped. Though, you were probably his mirror image of that.

And he smiled at you, crookedly. And you wondered if it was too soon to say you loved him. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[blublublujk]

good girl, gone bad

oneshot

word count: 6k

genre: established (secret) relationship

pairing: good girl y/n x bad boy jk

summary:

“I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.” You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.” What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

warnings: basically just pwp but plot went missing (oops!), swearing, smoker jk (i swear if anyone complains in my inbox i'll haunt you), explicit sexual content; jk has a huge dick ok, consensual recording/pictures, car sex (don't fuck in a car), hickeys, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, breast play, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, come shot (on face), slut shaming (again lol), come tasting/swallowing, stomach bulge (my fault i love this one), choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie

a.n: sorry for a late update hope yall dont mind, but i just wanna get rid of all my drafts they are PILING. lol forgive me for only always writing about jungkook, but he's so easy to write about. he breathes, and i instantly open my notes app (im not even joking). this has been sitting in my drafts since his LA trip (iykyk) it sparked a conversation and i wrote it. i want that man bad... and im lesbian :D

ANYWAYS enjoy and STREAM GOLDEN for our golden bunny <3

p.s: i'll probably come back to this couple but its a oneshot for now... but wouldn't no nut nov be fun with this jk?? everyone say yesss. ok bye.

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

“Ugh, what a piece of shit.”

Before you even get to ask who, the motorcycle roars back to life across the parking structure belonging to the very one and only, Jeon Jungkook. A group of college jocks crowd around the man. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, he’s not paying it much attention though. He's deep in conversation, laughing at something one of them said, clearly more invested in the joke than anything else around him. 

As the laughter dies down, he looks over, eyes connecting while he brings the cigarette to his pierced lip, slowly inhaling the toxic fume. The terribly annoying (yet somehow sexy) tattooed jock on his loud motorcycle winks towards your direction, before selfishly exhaling that poisonous smoke into the air. Fuck, you really, really wanted to hate him too. 

“Yuck.” Karina gags with a scrunch to her nose, turning a cold back to them and you’re grateful to her because you almost get stuck in his lustful gaze. 

“Yeah… yuck.” You reply with no real meaning somehow managing to convince her you meant it.

“I hate him and his stupid friends. They are killing the Earth slowly and they don’t even give a fuck!” Karina argues in all her given glory and in her environmental science major mindset. “Plus those cancer sticks reek, why must the general public suffer because they can’t last thirty without them.”

Jungkook could last thirty without them. Way more than thirty when you were around him, especially when he was given something (or someone) to entertain himself with, but you couldn't say that aloud so the sudden thoughts stayed safe and sound in your head. 

“No, no they don’t. But what can we do?” There’s a sigh and then you clear your throat. “Should we get going now?”

Your arm wraps around hers, gesturing the way back to campus with a swift wave where you both had been meaning to study given that classes finally started cramping in heavy assignments.

“Yes, please.” Karina is quick to sharply turn her heel and walk back towards the building. “I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.”

You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.”

What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

—-

“You taste disgusting.” There’s a muffled laugh pressed into your lips, as your tongues meet halfway, meeting each other’s lips in a bruising wet kiss. Your ass grinds roughly against his lap, groaning into your mouth while you bring your ass flush down, feeling his soft cock harden below you. His right hand grips your right ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, before smacking it (with love, of course!). 

“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, bringing his mouth against your throat, sucking and licking everywhere there was space. He sneakily leaves little love bites behind even though he knows you’ll kill him for this later because you have somewhere to be after this. He even bites your ear lobe gently between his teeth, before he cockily whispers. “You love it though.”

The whimper that leaves your mouth should be illegal. It only drives Jungkook crazier. 

Both hands find purchase on your ass now, spanking you once again in each cheek. Though Jungkook was a bit disappointed he wasn’t seeing your flushed bare cheeks on top of him, but he guesses he can settle for now. “You gonna let me fuck you now baby?”

He gropes your asscheeks without any hesitation, still leaving wet kisses buzzing onto your skin, stealing a quick kiss from your raw-bitten lips. 

“Mm, only if you ask nicely.” You tease, dragging a finger along his jawline.

With this, Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. Your hand comes to fist his hair, while he drops another wet smooch onto your lips. “You know I’d do anything for a piece of this ass angel.”

You smile into the kiss, grinding harder against his now– hard cock. You felt your folds leak of your own arousal. It was so undeniable. The attraction between you two, the desire to take each other apart, to be within each other’s arms. There was no place like Jungkook’s lap. Here you could stay forever.

“Imagine what people would say if they saw you like this baby.” Jungkook starts teasing, tugging your shirt off with no trouble. Your breasts catch his attention, noticing that you are wearing that black lingerie set he had bought for you last Valentine’s Day. “Fuck. Look at you baby.”

He squishes your breasts together, leaning up to kiss the uncovered tender flesh on both sides. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans back. “I– nghhh.”

“Did you expect to get fucked today princess? Hmm? Is this all for me?” Jungkook’s words work like magic, they drip off his sinful tongue like honey. You bring your body flush against his, burying your blushing face against his neck. “Don’t get shy on me baby, tell me. Did you wear this all for me?”

He purrs sweetly and you only nod, cheeks burning red. 

It's not like you were embarrassed of him, no in fact, you were happy to announce that the college campus’ certified bad boy is all yours and has been for the past two years. 

There was no exact moment to this, the attraction had always been there. 

You had first officially met Jungkook in one of your general ed classes. Statistics, to be exact, which he would have one-hundred percent failed had it not been for you passing him the answers mid exams. It wasn’t like that to begin with of course, it took you some convincing. To be fair and to your excuse, it was so hard to say no to those beautiful big brown eyes.

At first, you assumed he was doing this all, acting lost and playing dumb, to get into your pants which he succeeded. However you had enough dignity left to make him work for it. Until you realized those secret smiles, stolen glances, and subtle hand holds were much more than just a silly game. You had fallen for his charm, and against everyone’s advice to stay far away from him, you fell in love with the (not so terrible) bad boy and let him take over your heart completely. It happened so randomly and so all at once. It was confusing, new, but most of all, liberating. 

Being with Jungkook was so freeing and the thrill of being caught with him was so worth it. It didn’t matter what people thought of you or him, you both were willing to die on this hill of love. 

Jungkook, too, had fallen quickly. How could he not? There was nothing to dislike and everything to love. Your pouty scolds, he looked forward to. The stolen glances across campus were his favorite, a secret only you and him held close to heart. There were times where your cheeks would flush pink, because he would steal kisses from you behind the campus library. You were seriously his favorite person ever. 

“Jungkook stop! What if someone sees us?” You would whisper-shout, a pout would form against your will. 

Jungkook would just kiss your worries away again and again and then say. “You’re the cutest little thing alive baby.” 

“Are you trying to change the subject?” It was hard to speak between kisses, that and the fact that he would squish your cheeks together like the adorable boyfriend he was. 

“I don’t know. Is it working?” His reply was cheeky and lips would start trailing down your neck and then you determined, yes. Yes, it is working. Fuck it all. 

It’s safe to say, he was yours since the start of it all, as you were his. Wrapped in each other’s fingers before anyone had realized it, now you were inseparable. 

“Answer me princess.” Jungkook pulls you back gently, observing your flushed face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Of course, this only makes you blush harder, but you do manage to admit. “Y-Yes… I wore this only for you. Always for you.”

Jungkook smiles, pecking your cheek. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive angel.”

He cradles your face, before leaning in to kiss you. This time, you guys take your time. Your mouths stay closed, taking the time to really feel the plushy feeling against your own and enjoy each other’s presence. You felt as if you were floating in clouds. 

“Jungkook.” You mumble onto his lips and he hums, but that’s not enough so you call his name once more with intent. “Jungkook.”

He pulls back with a questioning look. “Yes, my love?”

“Can you please just fuck me already?” The words come out barely above a whisper, even after fucking you so many times, you could be so shy at times.

Jungkook breaks out into a bunny-like grin, holding back a stifled laugh. “So much for wanting to make me say please, look at who’s pleading now.” 

“J-Jungkook…” Your face goes hot again and he laughs once more, patting your ass softly.

“Okay. Okay, my love. Enough teasing, I’ll fuck you since you asked so nicely baby.” Jungkook takes his sweet time taking off his own shirt, and pulling your skirt off. It was a bit tricker, given you were both in your car which was not fit for two people even in the backseat, but you guys always made it work. 

You were still scared to ride to campus with him as much as he begged you to because it would blow your secret relationship, but fucking on campus has yet to be off-limits. Mainly because Jungkook fucks you all too well, and you aren’t one to say no to good dick (oops).

He attaches his mouth right above the bare skin of your left breast. He holds your tits in his hands, pushing them together, stuffing his face right between them. Jungkook makes sure to pay attention to both breasts (it’s only fair), rubbing your hard buds through the black lace which hardly covers them. You bite back a moan, feeling him rut up against your heat, his hard length pressing stiffly against you, your walls already clenching, desperate to feel him inside you.

His tattooed hand slips below, releasing the nipple he had been tugging on earlier. You feel the tip of his fingertips brush against your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Surely by now, you were dripping onto the lace. His erection is still pressing against your inner thigh. “D-Don’t wait then.”

Your boyfriend smiles, bringing his lips to yours. “Behave. You’ll get some dick inside you soon.”

Like the brat you were, your eyes rolled back so used to being spoiled. He pays it no mind though because his tongue comes out again, licking your lips apart. Your tongues meet once more, this time you suck his tongue into your mouth, brushing it against the roof of your mouth. He taste quite bitter, it’s the cigarette from earlier, yet somehow and against all judgement, he tastes fucking delicious. Especially when a grunt slips from his throat, feeling you roll your barely covered folds against his fingers.

He allows this, putting more pressure with two fingers, feeling you drench his fingertips even through your panties. Jungkook pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, spit mixing as he reciprocates the favor, sucking gently on your tongue. You tasted like the strawberries you had earlier for lunch and Jungkook groans, greedily swallowing the taste in your mouth. 

What an innocent sweet little thing you were and he was about to ruin you all. 

Cigarettes and strawberries. 

Quite the pair. 

You whine into his mouth, unable to hold back much longer. “Please, Jungkook…”

He smirks against your mouth. How much he loved the way you fell apart on his cock. Especially more, when he had barely had his hands on you and you were already begging for more. Jungkook pulls back, but not before you whine a soft “no.” He holds your cheeks in his palms, forcing you to look directly into his hazy eyes. 

“Imagine if people knew baby.” His voice comes out more sultry, rough around the edges. His thumb carrasses your cheek, patting your mouth open. “How much of a slut you were for this dick.”

His words make you mewl (he knows how much you get off to this thought), he slowly eases two fingers into your mouth, holding your chin in place. You made sure to suck on them as he liked, your tongue coming flat against them. 

Jungkook bucks his hips into yours, chest rising while he watches you suck, like the good girl you were. “Imagine if they really knew, baby? Such a sweet girl like you, with someone so dangerous and reckless like me. What would they say? Hmm?”

He pulls out his fingers, seeing them barely glisten under the light.

“I- I don’t know.” Your voice is dry and soft yet, you are incredibly horny.

“You don’t know? I have a few ideas.” Jungkook chuckles, hands brushing along your back. “Can this come off?” 

He tugs your bra from behind and you hesitate to nod permission. “Good, I wanna watch them bounce when I finally fuck you.”

By now, you have given up resisting him, so you moan pathetically as he shreds your bra with ease and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the tender bud into his tongue, flicking it and placing it between his teeth. He tugs and licks the sting away, watching with hooded eyes as you squirm against him. Your face burns imagining the idea. 

What if people knew? How would your friends react? They would surely be disappointed, Jungkook was good for nothing but trouble. Yet, he was perfect to you. You were willing to defend him from hell and back. Whatever it took for them to believe you. 

Jungkook moves to the other bud, placing it into his mouth, cupping and gripping your breasts. His mouth was hot and heavy against your nipple, his tongue caressing the hard bud. He squeezes them one last time before letting them drop, watching them bounce gently against your chest. Yup, Jungkook was the luckiest man alive. There was nothing better than this moment right here.

Heat travels your body quickly, feeling your own chest rise, struggling to breathe in the steamy car. Your boyfriend looks down, communicating with his eyes instead of actually saying anything, your hands quickly move to his belt, tugging them off and throwing it anywhere else. Desperately, you unbuckle his jeans, harshly pulling his boxer down, just enough to watch his dick spring out. The flushed, wet length smacks against his stomach, watching as his abs clench at the sensation. If you stare any longer, you’ll start drooling. “So good for me angel.” 

There’s no time to waste. 

“Wanna suck you off.” You breathe out, voice filled with desire and lust, clearly it takes over because usually his girlfriend was much shyer and timid, but that all disappeared when Jungkook’s cock was present. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook watches you drop on your knees, your pretty knees will for sure suffer the consequences of your horny choice, but there was no stopping this. He pats his thighs as he leans back to give you enough space. “I’m all yours, baby girl.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek when he feels your warm mouth wrap around his dick. Your tongue comes out messily, practically salivating and dripping all over him. There’s probably not a single day that goes by that you aren’t sucking his dick, but it was quite the experience every damn time. 

“F-Fuck, I wish you could see yourself.” He struggles a bit because the sight is fucking sinful and if people knew you like he did, they wouldn’t believe the person in front of him. 

His personal little cockslut. 

You pop off for a second, hand still wrapped around his length covered in your spit. “Yeah? Then take a picture for me, Kook.”

Double fuck.

When you first started dating Jungkook, you were against any pictures at all. After time passed and to his luck, you came around and you would let him take pictures, but only if he promised your face wasn’t in the frame. Now, his camera roll is covered with images of you and your blooming relationship. You didn’t care anymore about covering or blurring your face out. His camera roll consisted of just about everything, pictures of you sleeping peacefully against his chest as you would nap, videos of you laughing on the random adventures he would take you on, but never images of you nude. Never ever was he allowed anything that could probably incriminate you both, even if he would beg, ever-so sweetly. It seems like you came around after all. Bless you.

“Fuck, don’t talk to me like that princess, you have no idea what that does to me.” He’s never heard you sound so fucking sexy. Jungkook bites his lip, recovering his phone that had dropped earlier on the carpet. “You sure about this baby?”

“Yes.” Then you are back on his cock and he shudders, already snapping a few pictures. Your eyes looked up at the camera, making a show out of it all.

Jungkook tries controlling his heavy breathing but with a sinful tongue like yours, it’s impossible. “Can I record this princess, only if you’ll let me, of course.”

You take him deeper into your throat and nod furiously on his cock. You trusted him enough, you knew Jungkook could never hurt a single soul, unless they tried him. Point is, he would never do anything to break that trust so hell yeah, why not add more to his long collection.

“God, you are so perfect baby. Made for me and only me.” Jungkook’s voice is nothing short of possessiveness. He presses record, caressing your hair softly, almost petting you for your work like the good girl you were for him. “Imagine if they knew how well you take cock baby. How perfect those plump lips look around my dick. You’re like a dream come true princess, my personal cockslut.” 

You moan around his length, loving the bitter taste on your tongue and Jungkook has to hold back from fucking your throat, though he thinks you’ll love it anyways. 

“Can I fuck your throat?” His voice is raspy and you open your mouth wider, nodding so prettily with dick stuffed in your mouth. Jungkook is careful when placing your hair in a little makeshift ponytail for the meantime and as best as he can with one hand as he starts to thrust into your warm mouth. “So beautiful and all mine. Isn’t that right princess?”

You don’t get to reply, but the vibrations of your moans that manage to run through his cock  answer for you and it almost makes him smile. What a good girl you were. Pretty things like you deserved to be spoiled and he couldn’t wait to give you the fucking world. 

And was he fucking loving the show you were putting on for him becoming more needy and desperate on camera, your eyes rolled as he brutally used your throat for his liking. 

Jungkook bites at his bottom lip as he begins to roll his hips with much more force, feeling your throat take him down with greed. “Fuck baby, your throat feels amazing. Taking me so good.” 

He lets you go when he feels you tap his thigh and you gasp for air, tears threatening to leak down your face. “W-Want you to come on my face.”

Your voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at your sweet request. 

“Aren’t you just perfect for me today baby. Just you wait, you’ll get the best dick of your entire lifetime.” Not that you would know since he was your first and he knows that, proudly carries that in his cocky ego, but you always believed him. No one could fuck you better than this, you were sure. You bat your eyes at his promise and he comes down to kiss you messily, the camera records jackshit, but it captures your whiny moans and the sound of your lips smacking against one another. He pulls off with one last kiss and adjusts the camera frame back towards you as he takes his hard length and slaps his swollen, wet dick along your cheek. “Open up princess, I’m really fucking close.” 

You take him in with no hesitation and go to fucking work. Slurping and licking all over his length, your chin dripping with saliva, but you don’t even care anymore because his grunts and whines keep you going. 

Every now and then you look up at the camera making sure you do your best to keep him coming back. You know he will probably rewatch this every night that you aren’t there with him. And your predictions are correct because Jungkook’s already planning on watching this tonight and jacking off to it while you are out with Karina doing God knows what. All he knows is his sweet girl will be doing something productive while he’ll be coming undone in your gracious honor.

“I’m close baby.” He groans sexily, and his breathing starts to become sharp. “Look up baby, right into the camera, gonna come all over that perfect fucking face.”

Doing as he says, you look up sucking him dry, your hands come to relieve what you can’t cover with your tongue. His hand pushes you off for a second. “Tongue out baby.”

He fucks his fist and it doesn’t take long before he squirts his load all over your face, grateful that most of it lands on your tongue, you swallow it all immediately, humming gracefully at the salty taste. 

Jungkook’s eyes are blown out as he catches his breath and lets his dick flop back down against his thigh, you look like a fucking sin and he must be the Devil because he’s about to commit about thirty tonight. “Give me a second princess.”

He says between breaths as he stops recording with one last picture of your come-soiled face, still breathing heavily as he throws his phone on the floor again, thankful that he has something for later. You giggle against him and he almost awes as you throw your head against his bare thighs into a laughing fit. “Okay.” 

He huffs a dry laugh and pulls you up. “Times up. Come here.” 

Jungkook is quick to capture you in a sloppy kiss, not minding the leftover mess of come on your face, he doesn’t wanna mess up his masterpiece just yet. You soon grow desperate in his arms, but this time he doesn’t mess around. 

“Lay down.” Your bare back lands on the seats and he shoves himself between your thighs. Again, it’s steamy and fucking cramped in your car, but you both couldn’t care any less right now. 

His tongue hits your slit not bothering to move your matching panties, but the effect is almost the same. He licks a long strip watching you soil the silky lace mixing his spit with your own arousal. 

You moan sweetly as your legs come apart letting him completely devour your heat. Jungkook pulls off, tugging your spoiled little black panties to the side and continues on with his mission. His tongue finds your clit and you swear you could come like this. 

“R-Right there. Please.” Your boyfriend doesn’t let up either, eating your sweet pussy like it deserves. His tongue flicks your bud, building the sensation in your tummy. Jungkook sucks on your clit selfishly.

His chin is covered in your arousal. He’s humming and moaning deep inside your pussy, your juices stick onto his tongue like candy and he greedily swallows the treat whole. 

“B-Baby.” Your voice is struggling like his was earlier, but it’s there. He lifts his face from your heat, eyes in a lust-filled trance. Jungkook knows he’s pussy-whipped, but at least he admits his problems!

“Yes, my baby.” Jungkook’s eyes are blown out and he looks just as wrecked as you are. 

“C-Can I take a picture?” He almost gapes at your request, the amount of times you took him by surprise today. At this point, he would let you do anything, fuck his morality!  

“Do whatever you want princess. Pictures, videos. I’m all yours.” He gives you his full consent and permission to do anything so you are quick to grab his phone (you’ll send them over to yourself later) and start snapping pictures while he dives back in for seconds. 

Jungkook keeps your legs open while you are a whimpering mess above him, struggling to get the best picture. You have no idea how he was doing this himself, the pictures come out blurry as he continues to devour you as if it was his last meal.

He also puts on a show for the camera like you did so nicely earlier for him. Jungkoook’s eyes hood as he stares up, he even winks for the shot. If college didn’t ever work out for either of you, this would be something to look into. Good thing that was not the case, at least for you, his little straight A student. 

“I’m g-gonna come.” This only makes your boyfriend go crazier between your folds. He drops eye-contact with the camera and instead solely focuses on that pretty pussy presented for him. Jungkook’s tongue is sin itself, not letting up once as more arousal drips out of you. He slowly teases a finger inside, building your orgasm quickly as he fucks you open with his middle finger. “I’m– nghh. Fuh-fuck!”

The sentence is never finished as you start to squirt onto his tongue, creating your own little masterpiece on his face. Jungkook has never swallowed anything down faster than right now and he’s loving every second of it. Completely pussy-whipped and all, but at least he’s happy!

Your boyfriend finally detaches himself from your heat and the sight is nearly adorable. His hair is now all fucked up and he’s a sticky mess everywhere (you are sure you look no better). 

“Yum, I could do that all day.” Jungkook shamelessly says. 

“Mm, I’m sure.” You say coming down from your own orgasm, he gives you a few seconds to breathe as you set his phone down again. Jungkook takes his shirt from the floor and wipes himself clean. He does the same but it’s no use, the come that landed on your face has dried up and he doesn’t wanna scrub it off and end up hurting your precious face. 

Jungkook kisses your cheek affectionately as an apology. 

“There’s dry come on my face right?” You start to scold him, but he smiles with all his teeth apologetically and you forgive him at that moment. 

“Guilty.” He smirks, proud of his work, he thinks you truly haven't looked better. 

Wrapping arms and legs around your boyfriend you whisper innocently. “I was promised dick of a lifetime, unless… unless you lied to me?”

Jungkook scrunches his nose cutely while he looks at your perfect pouty face, doe-eyes begging to be fucked. “I never lie, not to you at least.”

He makes you laugh and he detangles your legs from his waist. “Now let me focus, I have a reputation to uphold.”

There’s no laughing once two fingers press into you and you gasp at the invading feeling, but the stretch only burns for a while before it turns into pleasure and you are whimpering at his touch. “Fingers so deep.”

He smiles and you throw your head back. “Yeah? My dick goes even deeper baby, I’m just making sure you can take it.”

“I can take it.” You breathe out against his pink lips. “I was made for you.”

The taller’s eyes nearly eat you alive, fuck you were so sexy. “That you were baby. My perfect little cockslut.” 

His fingers pull out of you brutally and you whine, but he kisses you roughly making you forget the loss. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it with purpose. You squirm in his hands and he pops off your lips. 

Fingers coated with your arousal trace your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking your own juices off the tattooed fingers, moaning at the delicate taste, his other hand still locked around your throat. 

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” You nod around his fingers and he finally lets go, gasping for fresh air. “‘M gonna fuck you now baby.” 

Your legs fly open in response, letting him have his way with you. 

“Do me a favor?” He asks while taking his hard length in his hand, jerking himself off while he awaits your response. 

“What?” You hum, confusion written all over your face. 

“Record this for me. I want you to see how I break you apart. How this pretty pussy makes a mess all over my dick. I want you to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.” His voice drops a few octaves and you can’t help but gasp and moan at his vulgar use of words. 

You used to be innocent, at least, that’s what Jungkook used to think. In a way, he thinks you still are. Untouched and pure, only for his eyes and his hands to touch. Jungkook is honored that he was your first, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was gentle and took care of you every step of the way. It was like that until you were begging and pleading for more. Sweet then, and sweet now.

He’s created a little monster, but he knows that your heart is pure and that’s what he loves most about you. 

“Okay, yes.” His phone is back in your hands and you click record, watching him line-up his cock. Jungkook groans as he disappears snuggly inside you. “Mmm.”

He lets you get used to the feeling and once he feels your breathing stabilize he starts to thrust himself with strong strokes inside you. 

Like the first time, you are struggling with the phone because you can’t stop shivering and shaking, you feel him in your guts and recording is much harder than pictures because it lasts longer and you can't stay still for that long. Not with dick inside you.

“K-Kook. I— oh.” You stop to moan when he hits your g-spot and he continues ramming that same spot over and over. “I- I can’t. Hand’s shaking.”

Your sweet boyfriend grabs the phone and lets you settle yourself. “That’s okay princess, I got you. Just lay there, I’ll take care of you.” 

He records himself ramming into you for a few minutes, watching himself disappear into you on camera. The taller one can't even believe this is his reality. How did this even happen and most of all with him of all people? He truly was the luckiest man alive! 

“‘S deep, Kook.” He fondles one of your breasts as he keeps a harsh pace, rubbing the hard nub with his thumb. 

“Yeah baby? Tell me where you feel it.” He whispers loving the way you tremble, your gaze struggling to keep up with his. 

“Right here.” You touch right below your belly, palm flat against the feeling of his cock inside you. “So so deep.” 

You mumble something else, but he doesn’t get to hear it because your high pitched moans drown everything out. He lets go of your breast watching them bounce as he continues to pound straight into your sweet spot. 

The camera catches it all though. The mess between your thighs look just as delicious on film as they do in real time. The sounds you make, the squelching noise that is being created by his cock going deep inside you, and most of all, it captures your beautiful face as it comes apart. 

He presses on your stomach right where your own palm rests and you strangle out a whine. “I- I can’t. T-Too much.” 

“You can take it. Remember?” His dick tears through you from the inside and you start yelling when he increases his pace. He’s fucking you mercilessly now and you can’t control the sounds that escape. “You were made for me, princess.”

“Yes, yes, I am.” You sound beautiful, but you would kill him if you guys got caught now especially in the position you guys are in. 

His firm hand finally comes off your stomach and instead two fingers go inside your mouth, muffling your screams and whines. 

The car rocks back and forth. He’s sure people know what the fuck is going on, the windows are foggy as fuck, for fuck’s sake, but you would hate him much worse for not finishing you off.

“Mmff, don— stopff.” He nearly giggles as you struggle to speak, but he keeps his promise quite well. He fucks you ever harder and deeper, his cock will surely fall off after this, but it’s all worth it. He slams inside, bottoming out fully before pulling out and repeating the same steps. “Fuhh-uk.”

“You like that baby?” Jungkook rasps feeling you squeeze tightly around him, which only means one thing, you are really fucking close. “Gonna come all over my cock princess?” 

“Mmff.” You are quick to nod and hum sweetly. He decides to pull his fingers out, spit dripping all over. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Harder Kook- ah!”

Jungkook almost forgets he’s recording and he centers the camera again, wanting to capture every last second of this. You are glistening all over, he’s made a complete mess of you, but he is no better. Jungkook is dripping sweat and yet, that doesn’t stop his mean and precise strokes against your velvet walls, stretching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. 

The final straw is when you feel his messy fingers start toying with your clit and you are coming once again all over your back seats and wetting his cock just how he likes it. Being a squirter had its own perks with a boyfriend like Jungkook because that meant he never stopped fucking you until you completely had nothing more to give. 

Jungkook curses when he starts to see your orgasm trinkle out, he fucks you all through it though, feeling the water-like pressure against his slit. And it doesn’t take long before an orgasm catches up to him. 

“Inside.” You plead with a pout, eyes completely blown out. 

With one last curse Jungkook comes deep inside your walls. He catches his breath for a few moments before pulling out slowly, making sure to capture the dribble of his come which sadly hangs onto your hole. “Push it out for me princess.” 

“Nooo, we’re gonna make a mess Kook.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile on his face because a mess has already been made. 

“I’ll clean it. Now, push it out baby.” You almost cover your face because you are sure you turned red, but you start to push his seed out of your hole and he’s tempted to fuck it back inside. 

“Fuck. That’s it baby. Perfect comeslut. Isn’t that right?” He stops recording once he’s gotten the shot he wanted and he starts to wipe you down with his shirt, lucky enough that he has a back-up hoodie to cover him after he’s done. 

“Yes, all yours.” 

You both smile against each other’s lips before he whispers. “I love you princess.” 

“I love you more.” 

“Impossible baby.”

—-

JK❤️: hiiii 🙂

me: hi baby :) everything okay?

JK❤️: marvelous 😇 i just came watching that video we took earlier ;))

me: baby! 😠  i'm out with karina! can you not talk about sex for two seconds while im out

JK❤️: sure! just came all over myself totally wasn't watching our sextape back ;)))

me: nice talk jungkook.

JK❤️: come home soon~~ i miss you :((((

me: love you too lol

JK❤️: not more than me. come home soon im serious!!!

me: i'll see you later jungkook. ❤️

JK❤️: 😠😠😠 

me: ❤️❤️❤️

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (22/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: This friendship is off to a great start. Or something like that.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff because you all deserve it, tiny but of angst (because it wouldn't be my work if there wasn't angst in it), google translated French

Word Count: 2.9k

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A/N: tadaaaaaa. did my best and I hopefully have time to update this story weekly. feedback is appreciated!

The other side of the bed is empty when you open your eyes. 

Sunlight beams through the window and warms your face as you stretch your arms and lie back. A loud yawn escapes your mouth, but you are so well rested and relaxed that you don't care who can hear you. 

Charles is probably hanging around the apartment somewhere and you can't help but smile at the thought of him. 

You didn't expect you two to talk so soon, but now that the weight is off your shoulders and the secrets - both your unemployment and the Formula One thing - are out in the open, you feel a lot better. You slept well, snuggled up to Charles with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. His warmth gave you security and comfort and although the road to this moment has been quite bumpy and rocky, you're glad you've finally arrived at this point. 

Pure friendship. 

It's the right thing to do, you tell yourself. This friendship is more important than anything else in this world. I'll be damned if I'm going to destroy the only good thing I have.

You lock your feelings deep inside you, bury them under many and thick layers of friendly affection so that no daylight can reach them. What remains inside you is silence, a pleasant, comforting silence. 

You don't have to worry about what his pet names mean to you. You don't have to worry about eventualities that will certainly not become reality anyway. You can be there for Charles, as a friend - as someone who is there for him. 

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. There are some fresh clothes for you on a small chest of drawers - a turquoise shirt and short gray Puma sports shorts - which you quickly slip into. As you open the door to your room, the smell of batter fills your nose. 

"Bonjour," Charles smiles at you as you enter the spacious, modern kitchen and sit down opposite him at the kitchen counter. Unlike last night, this time he's wearing a shirt and gray sweatpants, which hang low on his hips but still let you feel a little sigh of relief. With spatula in hand, he scrapes the pancake out of the pan to put it on a plate and slide it over to you. "How did you sleep?"

"Very well," you answer him and reach for the Nutella that is already in front of you. "And you?"

"Likewise." He turns off the stove and sits down next to you with another plate of pancakes. His knee nudges yours, but neither of you pulls your leg away. "The recipe is from my teammate. He says they're the best pancakes ever and I thought we could try them together."

As you spread the Nutella evenly on your pancake, you hand him the jar. His fingertips gently brush your hand. "So if they don't taste good, it's not your fault?" you grin and use your knife and fork to cut off a small piece before popping it into your mouth. 

Charles watches your every move. "That's right. So? Did he lie?"

You shake your head. The pancake in your mouth is warm and soft and fluffy, vanilla is definitely one of the ingredients and as you swallow the piece, a little of the delicious taste remains. "It's really delicious," you reply and spear another piece with your fork. "But I think it's also down to how the pancakes are made. The batter can be as good as it wants to be, but if it's made incorrectly - nope. Then it can't be saved."

Your Monegasque friend pours a little orange juice into the empty glass in front of you. "Was that a compliment to the chef?" A grin spreads across his face and he waggles his eyebrows. 

You playfully punch him in the shoulder with your fist. He pretends to almost fall off his chair. "My statement is to be considered purely objective."

Something flashes in Charles' green eyes, but before you can pinpoint it, he turns his gaze back to the breakfast. "I've heard you say that before," he mumbles before taking a bite. "But it really tastes great. I'll have to tell him when I see him again soon."

"What does your nutritionist say about you smearing so much Nutella on your pancake?" When he puts his index finger to his mouth, you have to smile. "Do you have to go back? To Italy?" The thought of Charles leaving you alone here in this big apartment makes you swallow hard. You only really talked to each other a few hours ago, does he really have to -

"No," he unintentionally interrupts your train of thought. "I don't think they want to see me there again so soon after I left yesterday. But that's just the way it is." He shrugs his shoulders. "More time for us." Before you can ponder the meaning of that sentence, he continues. "I know we've already talked this morning about what to do next, but I think we should discuss it again."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

The brunette purses his lips. "You said that you still want to be friends with me despite my job - and I think that's great - but you should really be sure."

"I am sure," you reply without hesitation.

"But you have to know what all this would mean for you if you take this," he points first to you and then to himself, "on. Dealing with all this is more difficult than you can imagine."

"All right," you reply, shoving the last piece of pancake into your mouth before washing it down with orange juice. "Go on then, Mr. Charles Leclerc."

He looks at you with a look that can't mean anything other than "Really?" before clearing his throat. "I've been in the public eye since I was little. It used to be karting, now it's Formula One. I'm used to people recognizing me, approaching me on the street and wanting to take photos. It's normal everyday life for me."

"Sounds a bit conceited," you joke, but Charles' expression suggests he's not in the mood for fun. "Okay. Je suis désolé."

"As soon as I leave the house, people talk about it. What I'm doing. Where I'm going. Who I'm spending time with. And my friends are set on the fact that when we're out and about, we can never be fully undisturbed." He chews on his lower lip for a moment. "With my female friends, things are a little more complicated."

"Meaning?"

He takes a deep breath. "As a Formula One driver, it's quite difficult to maintain friendships with the opposite sex. As soon as you do something together without anyone else around, it's portrayed as a date in the press or on social media. According to TikTok, I've had four new girlfriends since Annika and I split up. But nobody cares that they are the wives and girlfriends of my best friends. People see what they want to see. Even if it doesn't reflect the truth at all."

Without hesitation, you reach for his hand and stroke the back of it with your thumb. His skin is soft. "I'm terribly sorry about that. It must be awful."

Charles turns his hand a little so you can intertwine your fingers. "It's nothing new for me. It's more difficult for my friends. They are insulted, called names, judged. And all because they want to spend time with me, because that's what friends do. It's not fair. Not for anyone."

Now you understand why it's so important to Charles that you know this. His friendship has a price. And from what he tells you, it's not exactly cheap.

"The pressure on you would be huge. People will have opinions about you that you won't like. And no matter what you do, no matter how good you are - you won't be able to change them. And at some point, you'll be approached on the street without me, just because we're friends. The first time Joris was asked for a photo, he was completely taken aback."

You can see how much this is taking its toll on him and you don't even want to know how many friendships his name has already cost him. It's understandable that not everyone wants to take this risk, this life.

You squeeze his hand twice to attract his attention. When he looks at you, you smile. "Doesn't sound so bad," you try to cheer him up. The attempt fails miserably.

"I don't think you understand me." He shakes his head slightly and removes his hand from yours. "That's no small sacrifice. And there's no turning back once you do. You'll have no privacy once you leave this apartment. You'll be the talk of the town. About what you do, what you say and what clothes you wear. And all because we're friends."

You raise an eyebrow. "And what's in it for me then?"

He lowers his eyes again. His voice is quiet. "Just - me."

Your heart breaks for him. 

How can he not know how wonderful he is? Ever since you've known each other, Charles has always given you the chance to get out of things. He's let you have the bed, driven your rickety Renault to protect you from the public, pushed you away - disgustingly, but still. And all so that you could have a choice. 

You'd like to take him in your arms and hug him tightly, hoping you can patch up his shattered parts. And so you do. You get up from the chair and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he gasps in surprise. He slides off his chair into a firm stance so that your hands slide a little lower down his back. A moment later, when you feel one of his hands on your spine and the other in your hair, you press your cheek against his hard chest.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I do," you murmur against the soft fabric of his shirt, whereupon he presses you a little closer to him. 

"How do you see me?" he whispers against the top of your head. You feel his lips on your scalp. "Like a crazy, jealous guy who shows up at your place in the middle of the night and starts a fight with your ex?"

"You're an idiot." You lift your face from his chest and tilt your head back so you can look at him. He looks down at you. "You're such a wonderful person, Charles. And I would be honored if you wanted me as a friend."

"Are you really sure?" His warm breath brushes over your face. "There's so much you -"

"I'm sure," you interrupt him. 

"There's a series on Netflix you can watch so you can get a better understanding of -"

"I'm sure."

"Y/N, please -"

"Don't you want to be my friend?" You want to take a step backwards so you can really look at him, but he's so comfortably warm and his gaze is so heartbreaking that you don't want to let him go under any circumstances. 

"I want nothing more than that. Really." The hand that was in your hair a moment ago rests against your cheek and your thumb strokes it gently. "But there's so much you have to give up. And just for me."

You nestle your face against his warm skin. "You're all I have. And that's all I need."

His gaze softens and he gently kisses your forehead before holding you close one last time and then letting go. "The Netflix series isn't that good anyway. It doesn't reflect what really happens on race weekends." He sits back down at the counter and grabs another pancake. 

You join him. "I'm not surprised. Netflix will do anything to make money and twisting reality to make it more marketable is nothing new." You copy him with the pancake.

"Exactly. And if you want to know anything, you can ask me. Your friend - the Formula One driver," he grins, shoving a bite between his two jaws. 

"You said yesterday that this season has been a throwaway. What do you mean?" you ask him, emptying the bottle of orange juice into your glasses. 

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "The car and the strategies didn't work as they should have. The Scuderia made more cock-ups than you can stand."

You have to suppress a grin. "Then wouldn't it be smarter to call it the Screwderia?"

His gaze is emotionless as you look at him. "That's the worst joke I've ever heard." He smirks. "But you're right about that."

It's obvious that your friend feels a lot more comfortable now that he's told you the truth. The passion with which he talks about the sport is infectious, and you listen to him as attentively as you can. There's a sparkle in his eyes, his smile almost reaches your ears as he talks about his victories and podiums. 

How could you not want to be friends with him?

When you're done with breakfast, Charles sends you to explore the apartment while he does the dishes. After brushing your teeth and getting a bit more ready - you keep your clothes on, they're comfortable and Charles' after all - you wander through the rooms. 

The living room is kept simple, with white furniture and a comfortable-looking couch where you can watch the second part of Cars. Next to it on a shelf are several trophies and even helmets, which you take a quick look at.

There's even a white piano. A red rose arrangement with the word Love is placed on it. As you run your fingers over the wood of the instrument, you hear Charles enter the room. 

"The roses are from Annika. They're not real, so they can stay longer." He steps from one foot to the other. 

"Why haven't you thrown them away yet?" you ask him as you turn to face him. 

He shrugs his shoulders. "I haven't gotten around to it yet. And Annika was still living here until yesterday. So..."

You nod weakly and change the subject. "Have you been practicing here?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, I don't have much time to play because of Formula One. It was good to play in the bookshop. Even if it was completely improvised."

You remember every single note. The passion he poured into the keys to create an incredibly beautiful piece of music. The passion he felt. How beautiful he looked in the warm light. "It was beautiful. It really was."

"It's your song." He smiles lovingly. "It's as beautiful as you are."

Like magnets, you move towards each other. As he holds out his hand, you place yours in it so that he can gently turn you in a circle before pulling you close. Your hands rest on your chest and you feel his strong heartbeat under your fingertips as you smooth down his shirt. His hands are on your lower back, pressing you against him so that you arch towards him. 

"Charles."

"Mm-hmm." His gaze flickers back and forth between your eyes and your lips, making your heart beat faster. 

You hypocrite, you hear your conscience say as your one hand slides to the nape of his neck and plays with the fine hair there. Charles closes his eyes and something you can only categorize as a moan escapes his throat. 

"Please don't stop," he whispers and leans his forehead against yours. The tips of your noses nudge against each other. 

"With what?" you ask softly, even though you know exactly what he means. 

"Touching me." His voice sounds almost like a deep groan. "Tu me fais tellement de bien.“ you feel so good.

You would never stop. It seems like an invisible boundary was torn down last night and you haven't been able to stop touching each other since. His knee against yours at breakfast. Your embrace. Your half-naked bodies pressed together a few hours ago when you were talking. 

Even if you wanted to, you couldn't stop touching him. 

Hypocrite, repeats the annoying voice in your head. 

Without thinking about it, you arch towards him another inch and Charles draws in a sharp breath. 

"Charles?" A woman's voice sounds from the hallway and the Monegasque opens his eyes. „Chéri, tu es à la maison?“ darling, are you home?

Your eyes search his as he suddenly breaks away from you and takes a step back. Panic is practically written all over his face. 

"Who's that?" you ask silently, but get no answer.

The footsteps from the hallway come closer and when you turn around, a woman is standing in front of you, looking first at you and then at Charles before her gaze lingers on you. "'Qui avons-nous là?“ who do we have here? she asks, walking towards you before grabbing your hands and giving you a kiss on the left cheek, then the right. 

"Maman, que fais-tu ici?" mom, what are you doing here? Charles asks hesitantly, taking a step towards you both. 

Maman?

next part

[seangelfish]

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT FOR A LONG TIME YEIII amh I could ask for headcanons for bae and kanata with a cute mc fem from the town who just arrived in the city therefore she doesn't know anything about paradox or hiphop or the city in general je but she is open to learning new things uvu that would be all ~ thank you

MEETING A NEWCOMER

Featured characters: Allen Sugasano, Hajun Yeon, Anne Faulkner, Kanata Yatonokami ♡ Tags: Headcanons but also a bulletpoint fic, mutual crush, casual romance, she/her pronouns, not really proofread! Not really sure what to write for Hajun, so I'm sorry if it's not up to standard! ♡ Word count: 1,895 ♡ Synopsis: You, a newcomer, was introduced into a city of hip hop. You didn't quite understand it, but you were eager to learn from the people around you.

You have moved here for university, not knowing what this city was actually known for. You just assumed it was any other ordinary city...

Allen, who was one of your fellow classmates at university was an odd one. He didn't look friendly so you didn't try socialising with him at first, but when you saw how he acted towards his friends, you decided to at least try.

You found out that he was just awkward. He greeted you in return when you introduced yourself, but his eyes started sparkling when you mentioned that you were new to the area. He asked whether you're into hip hop, but if you weren't, he had some recommendations for you to listen to.

"Is hip hop that big here?" you asked him curiously.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. "There used to be this place called Club Paradox where..."

You listened to him ramble on and on about hip hop and these legends called 'Buraikan' who founded these so-called 'Phantom Lives.'

It was all a little confusing, but it had you intrigued. Because of this, the two of you had exchanged contact info so Allen would be able to send you his recommendations. When you were finished listening to them, you would text him your thoughts. Gradually, you started having a taste for hip hop that in your free time, you'd visit record shops looking for songs that you haven't heard of yet!

Allen was always so appreciative of how willing you were to indulge in his interests — in his life. He wanted to show you more about the city and about hip hop, but he also just wanted to spend more time with you.

"I also produce and write my own songs!" Allen said one day, hoping that would impress you. "Would you like to listen to them?"

"Seriously? That's so cool. Of course, I'd like to listen!"

"Alright, just meet me at the club! I'm performing there as BAE with Anne and Hajun."

"C-Club?"

"Oh, haven't you been to a club before? Then I'll accompany you before our performance starts. It'll be fun!"

Why not? you thought.

Allen picked you up before his performance and showed you around the club. It was an interesting yet fun experience, but what you found kind of weird was how he kept holding your hand throughout it all. You didn't think too much of it though. He was probably doing that in consideration of you, so you wouldn't get lost in the crowd.

"So yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it!" he said. "Will you be okay here? We're starting in ten minutes."

"Yes, I'll be fine," you replied. "I can't wait to see you perform!"

"Alright, see you later, (Y/N)!"

Watching him perform live was amazing. You finally understood why people here liked watching 'Phantom Lives.' They were incredible! You were so drawn into Allen's performance that you couldn't see anything else but him.

"Haha, how was it?" he asked you, panting.

"It was so cool!" you chirped. "And that was the song you wrote too? It was great!"

"Hahaha, thanks, (Y/N)!"

So whatever Allen did with hip hop, you were there too. You became closer to him than before that he no longer was a classmate to you, but someone even more special.

Just like everyone else, you were drawn to Hajun's prince-like charms, but you never dared to speak to him. He was definitely on another level than you, and you didn't want to disturb him with your plain, ordinary presence.

However, fate brought you together when Hajun spoke to you first. He picked up clues that you were new around here and wanted to help you familiarise yourself.

Confused but thankful, you accepted his offer. He was like a tour guide, bringing you in his limo around the city. It was kind of awkward at first, but he eased you into it when he would ask you where you came from and why you decided to move. He was friendly, but you could taste the way he teased you too.

After bringing you to so many places, Hajun had asked you if you knew about hip hop or anything to do with phantom lives. When you denied it, he merely chuckled and said that you should watch him perform. He didn't go further than that, so you had to find out yourself what he meant by it.

BAE was his hip hop group where they performed phantom lives at clubs. You entered by yourself, waiting for the show to begin. Hajun was up there on stage accompanied by Anne and Allen. Their performance was spectacular. The way Hajun rapped was something you didn't expect coming from him, but at the same time, it made perfect sense.

"So you made it," he teased. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"Y-Yes, it was good!" you exclaimed. "Those were the illusions you talked about? They were pretty! How were you able to do that?"

"With my phantometal, of course," he replied, showing you the feather ring on his finger. He let you touch it due to curiosity. "Isn't it cool~?"

"It is!" you giggled. "Can I watch you perform again next time?"

"Haha, sure."

Not only did Hajun help you with familiarising yourself with the city, but with university work too. You should be grateful though because he wasn't doing this for just anyone. However, he was also questioning his actions when he thought about it.

He supposed that he was helping you out so much because he was also in a similar position when he arrived in Japan. He just wanted to make your experience here easy for you.

Plus hanging out with someone cute like you was actually fun. He loved answering whatever questions you threw at him especially those relating to hip hop. He always looked forward to your daily greeting in person and text.

Anne had caught an interest to you almost immediately. Of course, it was because you were cute, but it was also because your outfits were embarrassingly plain. They wondered if you'd allow them to dress you up. So one day in class, they introduced themselves.

Once Anne took in the info that you were new here, they were even more excited to become your friend. They wanted to show you everything! Entertainment, fashion, music, everything you were interested in!

And that's how you were introduced to hip hop too.

Taking in the knowledge of the city from Anne was like homework. They dumped everything on you so quickly that it was hard to grasp, but as they pulled you around the city, it was always so exhilarating.

"Oh, I'm also a part of BAE," they said. "It's the hip hop unit I'm in with Allen and Hajun. We usually perform at clubs, but we're going to be competing in Paradox Live next!"

"P-Paradox Live?" you queried. You knew of phantom lives since Anne mentioned those before, but this was different.

"Yep, it's gonna be huge! We're going up against other hip hop units to win ten billion! You'll come support us, right?"

Of course you were.

But standing in front of Club Paradox was intimidating. Everyone around you looked excited out of their minds, but you were the opposite.

"(Y/N), over here!" called out Anne. As you turned, they linked your arm with theirs and led you inside with Allen and Hajun. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to leave you here," they continued. "But watch us closely, okay?"

Watching Anne perform that night was thrilling. Even when the rest of the units performed their songs, Anne's performance was something you couldn't shake off. The illusions that they described to you through words could not compare to the real thing.

After that, you would always watch Anne in person whenever they were performing with BAE in Paradox Live; cheering them on and voting for them. Anne would always look for you in the crowd too, happy that you appeared in their life.

Unlike BAE, you didn't meet Kanata at university. You bumped into him on the streets to university. You were lost and that's how you ended up at the slums. He thought you were an idiot, but he helped you out anyway.

You explained that you were new to the city, so you still didn't know your way around. Kanata was disinterested, but when you asked him why hip hop was so prevalent around here, his ears perked up.

He explained everything, but he also mentioned how there's 'real hip hop' and those who desire to make hip hop but fail. You were curious about what he meant by this, so you pressed him further into showing you what 'real hip hop' was.

He was about to refuse. He didn't really want to get close to you to begin with, but seeing that sparkle in your eye made him think otherwise. It also didn't help that you were kind of cute.

"Fine," he breathed. "When do you finish uni? I could show you today."

And so he did. After dropping you off at university, he picked you up straight after you were finished. It was evening by then, so the streets you walked on were crowded with people waiting for a team called 'Cozmez' to perform.

He grabbed your wrist and dragged you into some shady underground business, situating you in a corner where he was sure nobody could disturb you.

"Just stay here," he said. "You'll be okay."

"W-Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm performing."

Before you could say anything else, he grinned. "You'll see what real hip hop is, (Y/N)."

And he was gone. You noticed that he was with someone else too, someone that looked oddly similar to him that you just knew he was his brother. When they were on stage, the crowd cheered louder than before.

That's when Kanata started rapping. You watched him intently, your eyes following his every movement, his every word. The music was loud, but it was exciting.

"So this is a 'phantom live'..." you murmured to yourself as you watched the illusions the twins were creating. "It's beautiful..."

You didn't expect Kanata to come back to you right after performing, but he did, asking you what you thought of it. You caught the slight bit of excitement in his question which also surprised you because even if you had just met him today, you already had his character noted down in the back of your mind. He was rude and aggressive, but he was also kind in a way.

You smiled. "It was awesome! I can't believe this is what I was missing out on!" you replied. "You were amazing, Kanata!"

His cheeks heated up, but you couldn't tell as it was dim. "Thanks," he said casually.

"Eh~ who's this?" asked his twin. "Kanata, I didn't think you were that type of person–"

"I-It's nothing like that!"

Nayuta introduced himself because if his brother was willing enough to bring a random girl to a place like this, he was sure that Kanata was a little interested in you.

"Be good to my brother, okay?" he whispered into your ear teasingly.

From then on, you became close to the Yatonokami twins, but you were even closer to Kanata, the boy who helped you on your first day. He became a lot more patient with you as he introduced you to even more places around the city, familiarising yourself with hip hop and the story behind it. It was always so fun learning more things when it was with Kanata.

And perhaps, Kanata was a little thankful that you got lost in the slums that day too.

Intro page | Paradox Live masterlist | Request rules

[saskiahaggens]

Can you write something about Jimmy x Reader? 👉🏼👈🏼

Of course I can, but I have to tell you that I dislike it… I'll most likely edit it later.

Most of you have probably noticed that I haven't uploaded anything in a long time. So, as a quick update, I by now am legally allowed to drive and I started my last year of school. I'm not sure how much I can upload, because our school year is quite short, but I will do my best to respond to all of the requests as soon as possible. Please accept my apologies for the long speech. I love you all for the appreciation. I wish you luck for school an work.

I Survived 50 Hours In America

Masterlist

Pairing: Jimmy x fem!Reader

Warnings: none I guess

Word count: 1586

You weren't thrilled when Jimmy suggested going to Antarctica. It was frosty, very bright owing to the sun, and you wouldn't have a decent bed to sleep in. Obviously, you had to fly there, which you were not delighted about. But Jimmy asked you to come along, and who were you to refuse?

"You okay?" Chandler asked above the rumblings of the plain.

"Could be better. We should've brought hot chocolate."

After you mentioned that, Chandler pulled a sorrowful expression. You should have thought about it sooner.

Jimmy was on the other side of the plain, working with the others to prepare some great scenes for the video. You weren't assisting since you had your head buried under your jacket, so you couldn't look outside. Normally, you weren't terrified of heights, except when you sat in a plain that didn't appear or seem safe. They wanted to you wait on the plain after Jimmy left so you could get an amazing shot of you and the rest of the group approaching him.

It seemed simple until the guy in front of you stumbled. You weren't able to react quickly enough and fell face first as you stumbled over his foot.

"Gosh, Y/n." Chandler laughed when you landed in front of his feet.

While everyone else was laughing, he was kind enough to pull you up.

"Well, it's safe to say that the snow tastes nothing like vanilla ice cream."

"Is this something people believe?" Jimmy questioned as he tried to remove some snow off of you.

Chris shrugged, "I've never heard of anything like this."

"Whatever. You thought the moon was made of cheese until we were around thirteen," you rolled your eyes, while the others chuckled.

"As amusing as it is, guys." We should get started. Unless you want to be stuck in a blizzard," Jimmy reminded us, and we all groaned.

"I can't wait to freeze to death.", Chandler smiled.

Jimmy gave the pilot a wink and he took off. We started walking shortly after that. Everyone was hauling their sleighs behind them. George happened to be right next to you, chatting about who knows what. The blizzard made him incomprehensible. You attempted to explain it to him, but he didn't understand you either, so you just let him go on. When you arrived at the location for the camp, everyone began to set up their tents.

Some of you almost immediately realized that it was nearly impossible for them to set up a tent in this wind, so some of you began to build a wall to protect the camp from the wind. While it made things a little easier for you, George, Jimmy, and Karl kept assembling the tents.

Regardless of who went where, all of you instantly huddled in them when the blizzard intensified to wait it out, when you were finally done.

Finally, save from the cold wind and the snow flakes which felt like little needles picking your skin, you could take of your googles.

"This was disgusting," you said, referring to your soaked jacket and pants.

"Hopefully this will be over soon. It's rather crowded in here. Get your feet out of my face, Chris." Tareq muttered.

You hadn't realized how close you were to Jimmy, who was also in this tent. Blood shot to your cheeks, but you could at least blame it on the cold.

The tent's walls suddenly began to collapse and landed on you immediately. The air was filled with cursing and the never-ending shifting of the tent's fabric.

You attempted to pull the fabric aside so you would be able to see someone, but it was like trying to get to the short end of a blanked at night, since the wind pushed the fabric back in your face every few seconds. You began to panic, concerned about how hard it was being pressed in your face from time to time.

"Y/n? "Are you okay?"

You spotted Jimmy when the crimson fabric lifted off your head. He must have noticed your fear since he moved closer to you to raise the piece of fabric higher.

"Yeah. This was terrifying. Like a crimson avalanche."

"You told me about your Claustrophobia once. Sorry to bring you into this."

"Don't worry. I-"

"Y/n is scared by Santa Claus?"

"Chris really? They had a moment."

"What are you even talking about, Tareq?", you asked.

"Oh come on. Everybody knows you two are in love."

"Tareq really? Stop it."

"No way, Chris. This frustrates me. It's so clear, I mean. Jimmy spent hours last week reassembling some Oreo's for you since you had a horrible day and he knows you like the with stuff."

"Any friend would have done something like this." Jimmy denied.

"Okay, and how about yesterday? Y/n-"

"Okay! Tareq we get it.",you interfered.

"No, I'd like to know what happened yesterday. It had to be a very significant event for Tareq to snap. This didn't seem possible to me."

"Chris, I swear to god.", you threatened.

You were frightened since Jimmy wasn't speaking, but you were saved by the others just as you were going to glance at him.

"Is everything all right in there?" Karl asked as the entire tent rose up, revealing a beaming Chris, a still unhappy Tareq, and Karl who peered inside.

You grabbed your googles and exited the tent, unable to bear the humiliating experience. Karl worriedly yelled after you, but you quickly made your way around the wall and came to a halt after about three minutes. Maybe you should just go back home and swim. You'd definitely die within the first two or three hours, but this would be truly amazing right now.

You watched the guys from the distance, rebuild the tent, raise the wall, and put the sleighs' belongings in the tents, when Jimmy started walking in your direction.

You were out and about to just walk away further, but you would have to talk to him. For the sake of the others, otherwise this trip would be really difficult for everyone, and you have at least a little privacy right now.

Jimmy sat down next to you and said, "We need to talk."

"I know."

You then remained silent. How can you even begin such a discussion? Just tell him the truth? No, this isn't one of those stereotypical romance novels where one character rants about their feelings only to be interrupted by the other's kiss. This is the real deal.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way.", Jimmy mumbled finally interrupting the silence.

"I somehow knew. Or at least I wished it was."

"So Tareq was right? You like me too?"

"How could I not."

Shortly the silence took over again, but now you were sure, if you won't finally speak up, you could end up ruining more than a potential relationship. "I've liked you for years, but even after finally admitting it to you and myself, I still don't feel relived."

"Probably because how it happened. Tareq deeply apologized . You should speak with him later. It will lift your mood."

"I still can't believe he snapped."

"I'm with you. I had no idea his voice could get this loud."

You laughed, and then there it was. The long-awaited sense of relief.

"Thank you."

Jimmy stared at you, perplexed, but you simply rested your head on his shoulder.

"For being here, for making me laugh or have I ever thanked you for giving me this job?"

"Like, a thousand times." He burst out laughing. "Hey, would you tell me what happened yesterday?"

"Promise you won't find it weird."

"I promise."

"I picked up Tareq. Well, when he got into my car, I had forgotten to change the playlist, and he found my worst secret."

"You love One Direction?"

"That's not what this is about... I think. Well, I have a playlist full of songs you might like or told me about."

"Okay. I don't see a problem."

"I labeled it 'Jimmy <3'"

"To be honest I think's cute. You need to show me when we get back." he laughed.

A bit embarrassed you took a hand full of snow and pushed at in his face.

"Oh, you will regret this."

He tossed some snow in your face and pushed you over. Naturally, you started defending yourself, but after a few minutes of rolling around in the snow, you gave up.

"All right, you've won. Please stop. I have so much snow in my jacked that I'm afraid I'll get frost bite."

Jimmy stopped, looking down at you, before he suddenly leaned down on his forearms, coming closer to your face.

"Oh yeah? Well there is nothing like giving up where I'm from."

You moved in close to kiss him, taking advantage of his proximity. Jimmy kissed you back, and you swapped places without his noticing. Using this new position, you threw some snow in his face and rushed back to your tent, shivering but glad that you finally got to kiss Jimmy, and by looking over your shoulder and seeing him still laying there, you knew this wasn't the last kiss you'd have.

[deandoesthingstome]

No Matter How Far

Pairing: Syverson x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: pretty much same as before: just some talk about sexual situations, a little pining

A/N: Thank you to everyone who wanted to know what Sy thought about the letter in Heart Wide Open. He jotted a few things down for you.

Hey Darlin'

Hope it's okay I start off that way. I mean, you went and put yourself all out there like that. How could I start any other way?

And I'm sorry if it's taken what feels like forever since you wrote. I got your letter as soon as I got back. Got all of 'em, actually. Can't tell you what it meant. It's okay you had a hard time sticking to day-to-day. It felt real nice reliving some of those moments and seeing what else you have in mind for us.

We had a mission, headed out - must've been right before your first letter showed up, that letter I had hoped would come. I had started giving up after a few weeks. Anyway, I was away from post for awhile. By the time I got back and read your first letter, I was sure the rest were gonna show you'd gone through a whole change of heart. But you didn't, did you?

If I thought it was hard not to get hard reading some of the things you wrote in that first letter, it wasn't nothing compared to the rest. You oughta be glad the US military doesn't make a habit outta reading my mail. I probably shoulda stopped opening your letters right there in front of mail call, but I couldn't wait to get back to my bunk. I wanted to know right then and there if you still thought everything you said at first.

But believe me, darlin', I'm gonna take my time reading those letters over and over again when I find some time alone. Unfortunately, right now that isn't often. Not nearly often enough. But my superiors say they have their eye on me. A few more successful missions, I could be pulling another rank or two soon enough. So I'll just get all this down and ship this out and hope you still want a whole lotta my love when I get home.

Hell yeah I remember bumping into you that night. I thought it was a dream. I could tell you seemed a little out of your element but I didn't want to let you run. There was just something about you... And I'm real glad you took me up on that drink.

You and your friend (sorry, I don't remember her name at all. Had something a little more important on my mind that night) were a riot. The easy way you bantered with each other once you let go of a few nerves. The way you included me. Then my boys when they came along.

And it's okay. I knew when my buddies showed up at least one of them would be taking at least one of you home. That's just how they do. I guess it's my luck I showed up first to stake a claim. Believe me. They understood not to mess with you.

So yeah, darlin', I think about that night, and the rest of 'em, a lot. l couldn't wait to get you home, but I'm glad we stayed and talked the whole night. In your letter you made it sound like we drank the night away, you know? But we barely had time to drink between all the stories. I remember that because if it had been any other way, I probably wouldn't have had you on the couch that night, or anywhere else for that matter. I wouldn't have wanted you to regret anything that night. It sounds like you and me both don’t.

Oh, and I definitely plan on taking you up on that offer, though I can't really decide how I want you first when I see you again. Bent over the arm of the couch is nice, but I also wanna be looking into those beautiful eyes of yours the first time I make you cry out my name again.

Yeah, I think about all the ways I wanna make you come for me. If we're talking couches, I could definitely do with having you straddle my lap, legs wide and hips sunk low onto me while I kiss you with everything I have and run my hands over the sweet cheeks of your ass. And I do like to think about my mouth on your pussy. You tasted so sweet on my tongue and don't you ever go thinking that ain't something I'll always want to do.

I really, really hoped you'd write. It's funny you say you held back, 'cause I know I felt like I did, too. And it was all I could do not to ask you to wait. I know what long distance can do to new relationships, but if I'm honest? It didn't really feel new. It felt like I'd known you forever.

Darlin' I know we don't exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things. But that heart of yours? Reaching out to me from all the way over there? If I'm honest, it's one of the things keeping me going. If it takes some hippy dippy yoga to make you feel that way for me, well, maybe it's not as bad as I've made it out to be.

Which was weird, knowing there was so much about you I didn't know. Everything really. But now that I know how you feel, I don't feel silly at all telling you I want to learn it all.

All of it, darlin'. Before I got your letter, I spent a lot of time, when I wasn't taking care of business and the team, thinking about taking care of you. I wanna know how many more ways I can make you come on my fingers. Wanna know how many new positions I can put you in and make you scream your head off. Wanna see you move underneath me and sway above me.

But I also wanna know how to make you happy, wanna know how to cheer you up when you're sad, or at least let you know I'll be there whenever you decide you need me. I wanna know what else you like to get up to on a Friday night with your friends when we aren't fucking like there's no tomorrow.

I love the idea of taking you out to eat at that new restaurant.  (And you're right. We're never going Dutch.) I can't wait to sit next to you in a dark movie theater and not watch the movie. And getting you out on a trail in the woods? With no one else around? Well, a man's gotta have some secrets, doesn't he?

I gotta sign off for now, but if you keep writing, so will I. Every chance I get.

Oh, and just in case it wasn't clear: yeah I want your heart. All of it. Keep sending it my way. I'll keep it close no matter how far away you are.

Yours, Sy

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[hornyhornyhimbos]

"Freak Show" ~ E. Munson

Summary: In celebration of his last night on tour, Eddie treats you to one last round of phone sex. However, it ends much differently than you'd imagine.

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Wife!AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,469

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ Content) phone sex/mutual masturbation, voyeurism, perv!eddie, squirting/female ejaculation, explicit language, mentions of foreign objects being in places they probably shouldn't be, not a warning but Eddie has a cell phone in the 80s because I said so

Extra Notes: yall this took me literally like two months to write but i am SO PROUD of how it finally turned out 😵‍💫

Originally Written: sometime in 01/2023 through 02/25/2023

Beta Read By: @rupsmorge

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

hornyhornyhimbos ask box can be found here!

Six months. Six dreadful, Eddie-less months had passed since you'd seen your husband. Since you'd been dicked down.

Luckily, it was the last day of his sold-out American tour. He'd be arriving early the next morning, and you'd already slipped into his favorite lingerie set in hopes of the festivities starting early.

In celebration, he'd promised to give you a real treat that night if you behaved. So, he called various times throughout the day, just to check up on you, and just as you'd promised, you had been obedient. You hadn't even thought about touching yourself that day in preparation for your last round of phone sex (hopefully) ever.

The phone began to ring, a noise you were sure you wouldn't want to hear for the next six months. Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you picked it up with fidgeting hands. You put on your best "professional" voice, even though Eddie called every night at the same time. "Munson residence. Mrs. Munson speaking."

"Mrs. Munson?" Eddie repeated, a slight drawl of exhaustion coating his throat. "How professional of you, baby."

"Sorry," you told him, "just wanted to make sure it was you first."

"Who else would you be expecting at this hour of the night?" he said, his voice filled with slight suspicion.

"No one. But I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry. Wouldn't want anyone else hearing those noises only you can coax out of me."

The drawl of your voice was enough to get him going, and you both knew it. He let out a long breath before teasing, "Is that why you're always waiting up so late for me to call you?"

You were already tempted to shove your panties out of the way and stick your fingers in your already awaiting hole, but you resisted, wanting to hear him say it first. "Maybe," you simply answered, your voice not far away from a whine.

"Well, if that's the case, why don't you put those pretty little fingers where you need them most."

There it was. And just like that, your hand slid into your panties, one finger toying with your hole while your thumb got started on your clit.

Next, he instructed, "Why don't you take those panties off instead of pushing them out the way, hmm?"

You stopped mid-thrust. "How did you-"

"I know you. I've seen you in this position before. Now why don't you do what I would do and throw those panties aside?"

You obeyed, sliding down your lacy panties and placing them beside you on the bed. Your finger slipped back in easily, collecting all those sweet juices Eddie couldn't wait to taste when he got home. Your eyes screwed shut in pure pleasure, though you were slightly angry that your delicate, little fingers couldn't reach your sweet spot like Eddie's could.

"What are you thinking about?" Eddie whispered, already feeling hard, but forcing himself to resist.

You let out the tiniest, little moan, and Eddie nearly came in his pants just hearing it. Fuck this, he thought, undoing his jeans and slipping a hand into his boxers. "Y-You," you answered, willing your legs to stay spread open.

"What about me?" he inquired, stroking his cock with ease. He was uncut, and you'd never seen anything prettier than that.

"Imagining th-that these are y-your fingers inside me."

He smirked, thinking about the pretty faces you were currently making. All naked and alone in that king-sized bed, wishing it was his fingers buried so deep in your cunt that you couldn't breathe. "Really?"

"Mhm," you answered, slipping a second finger inside yourself. You crooked your middle finger right into the spot you needed it most. "Oh, God," you let out, settling into the feeling it brought you.

You must've sounded hurt, because Eddie's next question was, "You OK, angel?"

You nodded, your middle fingertip gliding over your spongy spot with ease, now that you'd found it. "I'm all g-good, baby. Finally found my good spot all on m-my own," you answered.

He pouted, though you couldn't see it. His voice was thick as he let out a low groan, nearly on the verge of cumming already. "You won't need me to guide you anymore, huh?" he grunted, wishing it was your tongue swiping up and down his dick. "You can do it all on your own now?"

"N-Never," you breathed out, your opposite hand darting up to rub your nipple through your (or rather, Eddie's) tee shirt. "Oh, your hands feel so good on my tits, baby."

"Yeah?" he chuckled, considering placing the phone between his chin and shoulder and slipping a hand into his own shirt. "My hands aren't too cold, are they?"

"Just right, baby," you managed to answer, your attention now focused on how close your orgasm was as your fingers continued to work their magic. "Wish they were a b-bit cooler though. Miss your rings being b-buried deep inside m-me."

He stroked hard and faster, sucking in a quiet breath. "God, you look so pretty with my rings buried inside your pussy. Love watching you writhe when I keep them inside you."

"EddieEddieEddie," you strung together, your thumb working faster at your clit as your bliss approached. "G-Gonna c-"

"That's it, baby," he coached, his own orgasm fast approaching too. "Make all those pretty noises and faces for me, angel. Wanna hear you scream loud enough to wake the neighbors."

"I'm so close, I'm so close," you repeated, your walls pulsing around your delicate fingers. "Oooooh," you breathed out, working your fingers twice as fast, a now unfamiliar feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"That's it, angel. Let go. You know you want to," he said, quickly followed by a, "shitshitshit," as his seed spilled over his hand. "Good girl. Making me cum first," he whispered through heavy breaths.

The thought of his pleasure was enough to push you over the edge, your legs shaky as they tightened around your hand, your cum spilling out onto your hand and down the mattress. "Fuuuuck, Eddie," you groaned, working yourself through your orgasm, "I squirted."

Those two words were enough to get him hard all over again. "Shit, princess, you think you could do it again for me?"

"We'll see when you get home," you exhaled, your hand still coaxing you through your high.

As if on cue, Eddie smirked, "Angel, why don't you take those fingers out of that cunt and taste them for me, huh?"

Something about his tone seemed off, but you trusted Eddie with your life, so you did as you were told, removing your fingers and dragging your cum to your awaiting lips. "Mmm, so good."

You could almost hear his expression darken as he replied, "You always look so pretty when you do that."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you let out a deep chuckle. "I'm surprised you remember, considering it's been six," you paused to lick up the last of your essence, "devastatingly long months since you've seen me."

His voice was thick and rich as he asked, "You wanna know something, baby?"

Your eyebrows lifted as you removed your fingers from your mouth one last time. "What's that?"

"I'm outside. Watching you from the bedroom door, actually."

You tossed the phone back onto the receiver, grabbing your favorite silk robe and throwing it over yourself as you rushed to the French doors, pulling back the curtain to reveal—sure enough—a laughing Eddie.

You pulled him inside, slapping his chest hard enough he fell onto the bed as he continued to laugh. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, kitten," he fake-pouted, trying to hold back another fit of snickers. "Just wanted to have some fun with you before I came home."

You slapped his chest again, his pecs hard under the taut, black material of his tee shirt. "Yeah well, you scared the daylights out of me so I hope you had fun."

He pouted, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you down between his legs, his cock hard in his jeans as it rested against your back. "I'm sorry, angel," he said, kissing your shoulder where your sleeve had fallen. "I promise, it was innocent. Not like I invited the guys to watch or something. It's just me. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you like that," he promised as his hand slid underneath your shirt.

"Do I?" you rebutted, a frown sitting tight on your face.

His lips met your skin again. "Yes," he answered, followed by a third kiss. His hand made its way to your boob, softly massaging your previously neglected nipple. "You want me to make it up to you, baby?"

You simply nodded, leaning into his touch. "I'd like that a lot."

EMMY IN HER PERV!EDDIE ERA????

i really can't explain what happened in my brain, but uh, it sure happened, didn't it? 💀

anyway, hope you all enjoyed whatever this was! lmk if you guys want more perv!eddie stuff bc i'd be more than happy to provide it 🤭

-> taglist: @rupsmorge @dungeons-are-too-cold @writer-in-theory @esoltis280

[just-another-fanfiction-writer]

Could you handle me? | Sebastian Sallow x fem!Reader | Chapter Two

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Sebastian is always flirting with you and up in your personal space. So you decide to finally let him taste his own medicine.

Warnings: aged up characters, possessive!Sebastian, pining, tension (will likely lead to smut in a following chapter), minors dni

~ chapter one ~

Your hands, your eyes and your goddamn lips...they were on Sebastian's mind the whole time since that evening.

He just never expected you to be so...blunt...so forthright.

His flirting and your wriggling beneath him was just so normal to him. He just loved to play with you to see all of your reactions to his flirting. It was adorable to see you at a loss for words, your cheeks burning up in a pinkish blush and your eyes darting everywhere, not able to hold his unrelenting eye contact.

But this was entirely new.

You telling him he couldn't handle you? 

Your dark lustful eyes? 

Your forceful hands?

He did not expect it at all and exactly this piqued his interest. 

What else didn't he know about you? 

What else was there to uncover?

Oh, you were like a mysterious cryptic book, he got his hands on and he was only able to decipher a few pages. And like he always did with those types of books, he would devour them completely, read everything a thousand times, trying to uncover all their secrets and mysteries.

But it was hard to do so, because since that evening you either did as if nothing happened or you vanished into the masses so quickly, almost like you wanted to get away from him.

Though, nothing like a good chase to get what he wants, he thought to himself, when his eyes finally settled on your figure in a huge crowd of students, which were rushing towards their next class.

You looked ethereal between all of those boring faces passing by. Your hair was glowing in the sun, which was shining through the huge arches. It made your face glisten like it was kissed by a million stars. You have stopped there, right in that outdoor hallway, your eyes closed as you seemed to enjoy the warmth from the sun that broke through the british gray winter clouds. Your chest rose and fell again looking so inviting, as you breathed in the cold air. It almost felt forbidden being able to see you like this.

This possessive side of Sebastian urged him to pull you away from all the gazes that were probably fixed on your body as well. He wanted to be the only one allowed to look at you like this. To take in your beauty without any restraints. To let his own body crave yours, like he did in this very moment.

He needed to know, if your words this evening held more truth to them, than he admitted.

He wanted to see if he was able to handle more of you...and if you were able to handle him.

As his mind went into a frenzy, his legs made their way over to you with determination, stopping one step too close to you. He really didn't care if anyone would think you two could be more than friends. In that case, they would finally know to never look at you with hungry eyes again, because you belonged to Sebastian and only to him.

Your eyes opened, when you felt this breath of air that swung with Sebastian's confidence hit your face. And your eyes grew wide, your blush almost immediately visible.

"Come with me."

It was a dark and commanding tone, raw and rough around the edges and it sent you into a headspace that could make you follow anything he would demand of you. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time.

Sebastian grabbed your wrist with a rather less gentle touch, pulling you into a more secluded area of the castle and you followed him so willingly, making you look like a fool for attempting to avoid him.

Watching him closely, your wrist got set aflame through his touch and you noticed his erratic breathing. He looked around, as if he was making sure you wouldn't be seen nor disturbed by anyone.

Suddenly he pushed you against a nearby wall. Your breath completely left your lungs when your back hit the cold stone wall.

You expected everything except this.

Sebastian never was this forceful.

He trapped your body with his arms, palms pressed against the wall next to your head. He easily hovered over you, the growth spurt in the last year becoming very apparent at this very moment.

You didn't dare to say anything, not trusting your own voice.

"You're avoiding me."

This wasn't a question. It was a very clear observation from Sebastian and a true one as well.

But you didn't want him to know how true his words were.

You gulped, fighting the dryness in your throat, before you spoke.

"No, you must be imagining this. I'm not avoidi-"

"Stop playing with me, woman."

Fuck, how did him acknowledging you as a woman make you feel so weak in the knees?

"I know you're avoiding me. Tell me why."

Oh, you wanted to oblige, you really wanted to, but you didn't.

"I-I don't know what y-you're talking about."

You couldn't help the shivering in your voice, as he moved closer to you, his knee brushing against your thigh, his hot breath fanning over your flushed face.

Your mind was all over the place, as his eyes seemed to pry your heart open to reveal all those deep feelings you harbored for him since fifth year.

"Tell me, Y/N."

The way your name rolled of his lips...his lips, which were so incredibly close to yours...it ignited something inside you and it spread like a fucking wildfire.

When his hand reached down to lay on your waist, you twitched against it, getting more overwhelmed with this sudden "attack" from him.

You tried to keep yourself from falling to your knees by pressing your hands against the wall behind you, but as his knee hovered over the place you wanted Sebastian most, you were sure, your legs were going to betray you.

"Tell me why you've been avoiding me since that evening."

He whispered those words right into your ear, his lips ghosting over your sweet neck and you involuntarily gave him more access, by turning your head away from his voice. When he pressed his mouth against your skin, you sucked in a sharp breath, grasping both sides of his shirt.

You weren't able to form any coherent words, your mouth agape with shaky breaths tickling your tongue. Oh, your shaky breaths almost turned into a moan, when his wet tongue darted towards your most sensitive spot on your neck.

He just didn't stop, his hand circling your waist, his knee pushing against the spot, where all the heat of your body gathered.

This was just too much.

Your best friend shouldn't do this to you, no matter how much you craved it.

So with all of the strength remaining in your body, you put your hands on his chest pushing him away and holding him there for a moment.

"Please, stop."

You could feel your whole face was blushing in a deep red. Sebastian's gaze was so deep and dangerous, that you almost relaxed your muscles again, to let him devour you, but instead you gave him another push, so he wasn't trapping you with his hands anymore.

You were completely overwhelmed with this and you needed to get away. You needed to be able to breathe again.

So before he could say anything in return, you took off running.

He watched you leave so hurriedly. Was he reading your signals so wrong? Did he cross a line that he shouldn't have?

Oh, it was so incredibly frustrating.

Sebastian groaned, punching the wall with his fist, regretting it in an instant.

[beskarthief]

Chapter 5 of the Star Wars fic "Order 65". The rest can be found here.

19 BBY, Coruscant, Coruscant, Senate District

"You two go get some rest, we can take it from here."

The sun was barely up, but Fox was nothing if not punctual. Lucky stifled a yawn, dragging his feet as he trailed along behind Eight. The latter saluted him.

"Yes, sir."

They traipsed off towards the lower levels, leaving Fox and Kosmo to their shift. It would be a long eight hours.

"You want me to take the perimeter, commander?" Kosmo asked.

"I've got it covered." Fox said, feet already following the familiar path around the senator's home. "Keep an eye on the front."

"Yes, sir." Kosmo took up his post, leaning back against one of the pillars that stood on either side of the door. Fox had to admit it was a little early, even for him. But that was what caf was for. He was already on his second cup of the day.

Scratch that. He tossed the newly emptied disposable cup into a nearby garbage chute. He would be on his third when they got off for lunch. If you could call the ten minute dash Kosmo made to the cafeteria to pick up some grub a lunch break.

 Following the same path he had the day before, Fox came around a bend in the small, railed off bit of metal platform that counted as the senator's backyard. There was a mug sitting on the edge of the banister and he glanced around for the senator. She shouldn't be out here alone. Not that he could actually tell her what to do.

 And honestly, wouldn't her getting picked off because of her own stupidity make his job a whole lot easier?

 Still. He didn't want them to look that bad. But the Pantoran woman wasn't anywhere in sight, and it wasn’t like there was really cover for her hide behind out here. Not that she thought she had any reason to hide, anyway. Crossing the cramped deck in just a few strides, he lifted up the mug to bring it back inside.

A note fell out from under it, the little piece of flimsi floating gently to the floor. Stooping momentarily, he lifted it up.

 For yesterday.

 The handwriting was elegant and refined, if a little bit too swoopy for his taste. Those curly tailed As and Es probably took as long to daw as it did for him to reload his blaster. With his eyes closed.

 But there were more pressing matters than fancy handwriting and what he now realized was a steaming cup of caf waiting for him.

 Fox sighed. The senator didn’t owe him anything. They were square. Or at least they had been before. He didn't want to owe her anything, not even a cup of caf. It would only make this harder, somehow.

 Not sure where else to put it, he stuffed the piece of flimsi into a pouch on his belt and contemplated the cup of caf in his hand. He could bring it inside to her right now and put an end to this whole thing; this little dance that they were having. But that would be rude, wouldn't it?

 Fox didn't know why he cared, and he didn't much care for the feeling.

 There wasn't really anything for it. Taking off his helmet, he placed it carefully beside him on the railing as he leaned over, surveying the city. It was it's usual bustling self; all zooming speeders and blinking lights. Oddly calming in it's intensity. If all of that as going on out there, then what did it really matter what was happening here? It didn't really, in the grand scheme of things.

 None of it mattered.

 Nothing they ever did or could do would change that. Corrie would still be here a thousand years from now, bustling and busy, with people from all corners of the galaxy rushing this way and that, thinking that they were important. That their lives mattered. That the task they were accomplishing would amount to something. But would it really?

 No. Of course not. 

 In the grand scheme of things they were all just specks, doing what they were told until they thought it was what they wanted. Waiting to die on a lump of debris floating through the infinite void of space.

 None of it mattered. And it never would.

 It took Fox a moment to realize that the caf was gone and the sun was coming up. A moment longer still to realize that he was no longer alone on the platform.

 "Senator, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." he straightened up, reaching instinctively for his helmet.

 "Is it a bad sign that I can sneak up on you, Commander?" she asked, glancing over at him from where she too was leaning against the railing. She was already dressed for a long day at the senate; hair up in one of those elaborate coils, outfit pressed and perfect.

 "It won't happen again, ma'am.. You have my word."

 "It was a joke." She said with a kind smile. A practiced smile.

 "I- Yes. Of course."

 "Well, what did you think?" she asked, nodding towards the empty mug in his hand. "I found it a little bitter to my liking, but something told me you might enjoy it."

 "It was..." Fox was about to say earthy and faintly aromatic. To ask if it was maybe some sort of blend. But he stopped himself. "A cup of caf is a cup of caf, ma'am. Helps keep you alert."

 "I suppose." The senator sighed. "Well, I had best be getting to the senate building. We're due for another conference. Will you be wanting to check the ship?"

 "If you don’t mind the delay, ma'am. I think it would be safest."

 "Of course. I'll let you get on with your job."

 He saluted her, waiting till she had gone inside, and then hurried to the front landing pad. Kosmo was already there, alongside one of the Pantoran guards that always accompanied the senator. He was watching as Kosmo began the first sweep of the ship.

 “Commander!” the sergeant made a gesture halfway between a salute and a wave, calling him over. “I was wondering where you were. I already did the cockpit.”

 “Good.” Fox tried not to let the frustration creep into his voice. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself get distracted on the job. He was a professional. He didn’t get distracted. “I’ll take the outside.”

 It didn’t take long to complete the sweep once it was the pair of them, and after a short flight through Coruscant’s ever bustling airspace they were walking into the Senate building just behind Chuchi. It wasn’t Fox’s first time, not by a long shot, and though he’d grown accustomed to it over the years he still disliked every inch of the place.

 Haughty men and women with no actual experience on the ground making decisions that shaped the world and the war. How many soldiers had died for them? Or worse, how many had they gotten killed? At least the Jedi had had the decency to stand on the front lines alongside the men they were sending to die. Not that they’d turned out much better. Treasonous sleemos every one of them. 

 And now, under the Empire, the looks Fox got as he walked the halls only became worse. There weren’t many Coruscant Guard left. They were either getting replaced by the TKs or by personal bodyguards like Chuchi’s two goons; Sven and Curtix. He could see them now, leading the way for the Senator as she floated down the halls in all her stately elegance. 

 During the Battle of Coruscant Fox had faced down a squadron of battle droids with only one clip left in his blaster and an injured comrade counting on him as their only chance to make it through the fight. 

 Sven and Curtix had probably been trained in which fork to use for your salad and which for the main course. 

 But somehow they garnered more respect from the Senators that haunted these halls than he ever would. He was just a number to them. Not even worthy of a voice in their discussions. Fox had gotten used to the occasional scornful glances and cold shoulders he would get walking the halls of the Senate during the Clone Wars. But now that the war was over, it was somehow worse. Like they had forgotten he existed, and his mere presence was an annoying reminder. 

 Maybe it was because the Empire was doing everything it could to promote their new conscript army and it’s amazing TKs. Citizens of the Empire; stepping up to do their part. Real men and women. Real soldiers.

 Or maybe it was because every time they saw him, it was a reminder that they now had three million more mouths to feed and people to home. Not that he was seeing a lot of effort or thought going towards that. 

 Because that was one of the first things Fox realized as a spectator of the Republic, and now the Empire’s, innerworkings. Nobody cared. And there was nothing he could do to change that. So he shouldn’t care either.

 And so he didn’t. 

 Fox didn’t care when a Senator looked at him as though he were an old decoration that somebody had forgotten to put away, even though the holiday was long over and the next was coming up. 

 He didn’t care when they discussed allocating funds to build a new and improved navy for their new and improved army. 

 And he didn’t care when one of the other Senators asked Chuchi ‘what those clones were for’ because that’s all he was to them, and he knew it. A shiny toy that had started to rust. 

 That was fine. Fox had always liked the color red.

[thesmpisonfire]

i kind of feel more sad for pac now that i know he wasn't actually being kidnapped by bad?

just now that i know that this whole situation could have been solved by pac going. hey. hello. why does this cake taste like benadryl? ik it wasn't benadryl. metaphorical benadryl and bad would have just. not made him eat it

but he didn't try! he didn't confront him about it! fawn response off the charts :( i can connect this to his backstory in alcatraz if i try hard enough

Okay so. There's something about this I wanna talk about that I forgot to make a whole post so now nonnie ur the catalysis of it <3

After the first scare, when Pac first talked to Bad and Bad pressured him wanting to know if he had talked about it to someone, Pac ran to the Favelas screaming for Mike to wake up, and when it was to no result he ran off to Bagi instead and started talking about what happened and Bad's threatening aura. And then Bagi did a little mistake

She said it could be a good plan

That if Pac was taken, if he had prepared beforehand a backpack or a system that would activate and alert people where he was, he could be safely taken by Bad, find out about the worker, and Bagi would follow the clues to get him back in no time

And ofc Pac's sacrificial lamb instincts kicked it. He immediately nodded along, thinking, already saying to Bagi she'd be the one he'd trust with the clues and he'd leave it for her at her house and he'd be counting on her. I fully believw Bagi had No Clue about what she had just triggered and how serious Pac was. She probably thought he meant it in a kinda near future but not immediately

When Pac came back, and he saw the cake, he ate it without thinking twice. He ain't stupid, he knew Bad could've spiked the cake (which was a half truth. The cake was laced with drugs, yes, but Bad didn't know that. To Pac made no difference tho) to kill him or to anything else. And he ate it and he immediately tasted something wrong, but he kept talking and asking for more and staying. He offered himself again because someone he loved said it might be worth doing and if someone is going to suffer, ofc it will be him

Bagi stepped in and she was surprised at how much Pac lacked self care. He hadn't even planned anything, how could she find him if he just threw himself to the wolves without a second time? And when Bagi scolded Pac for that, you can see Pac waiting a small second to process he did it wrong and then played into the stupid role so Bagi wouldn't be even angrier at him. It was easier to be forgiven if you pretend you dont know instead of saying out loud you had no expectations to leave the situation unscarred

Not only that, Pac is a recovering drug addict. Either he intended on it or not, Pac immediately was after the good and peaceful feeling of the sleepiness, asking for more again. It's still lingering from the Happy Pills, and I honestly don't know if Pac will be able to heal that

[phonkscribes]

Under Our Stars

It’s one run in after the other. Things don’t seem like they plan on letting up any time soon so… why not make do with the time you’ve got now? Dante can’t sleep anyhow and what better way to cut loose than while sharing a beer with you. The sky’s beautiful and the liquor keeps you warm. Maybe something else might too… with the two of you being out under the night with your thoughts, you can’t help but to want to take a chance.

Dante & a GN! Reader sharing a late night drinks. CW for alcohol consumption.

There were two chairs pulled out at the top, plastic ones he’d picked up from the street actually. They were just sitting there and if he passed them up, he would’ve regretted it. Much to Lady’s disdain, Dante had set up the worn plastic lawn chairs with a bucket besides him as he popped the cap of a chilled bottle on his sword. The hiss it makes as foam bubbles up is music to his ears. The only thing that would make this better is if there was a box of pizza besides him. The hour is late, like, waaaay too late. Any shop that slings a decent pie is closed, which puts a small frown to his face, only for a moment though.

He leans back on the plastic chair, stretching his legs out on the rest as he looks up at the sky. The endless darkness unnerved him to a degree, with things looking uncertain save for the little pinpricks of light that dotted the pitch black like freckles or moles. It’s peaceful, more than he’d had all day to be frank. Dante can’t believe that he’s slept under it so many times without ever really admiring it like this before. The beer bottle is brought to his lips as he takes a quick swig, swallowing the stout brew down and going to lick his lips to take a glance at the brand. Cheap beer doesn’t usually taste so good, but he’d make sure to get a different brand next time.

It was gross, there wasn’t really anything that made it worth finishing… but he might as well. He already opened it and he didn’t want to leave it unfinished. A sigh is pulled out of him, he could’ve probably poured it over the ledge of his shop, but then he could’ve hit Vergil or whoever else was coming in from a job. Oh god… a pissed off Verge coming up to beat his ass after a tough day, that would’ve been scary to deal with. Though it wasn’t his brother making his way up the steps.

It was you.

Dante’s known you for a while, longer than Lady and long enough to be well acquainted with Morrison and the type of commissions he brought to the table. You weren’t quite a devil hunter back then, just a mercenary looking to make it big and earn enough just to get by. Your knack for staying alive and pension for violence made you pretty infamous, going as far as to earn you the title of Roach, since there wasn’t a job that had killed you just yet. It’s something that he calls you even now, through the rubble and onslaught of demons that herald and accost you and Dante on missions, you still crawl out kicking.

Back to back the two of you have fought together, calling it close more times than you'd be able to count. He was always worried, even if he never said it outright. There was this little look he'd get in his eyes that made him look younger than he was, something you never failed to notice. It was like Dante was holding his breath, waiting for something to happen if anything was going to happen at all. When things turned out fine, he'd just laugh it off, like he was expecting all to end well. You had opened the door to the Devil May Cry after a particularly frustrating job. Pest control has its pros however, the client paid you good to get rid of the insectoid demons sitting outside of the site.

Your arms are killing you, your back sore from all that heavy lifting with your trusty hammer resting on your broad shoulders as you let the door close behind you. All things considered, it wouldn't have been a terrible idea to turn in for the night and hit the sack. Though... you didn't want to sleep just yet. Leaving your trusted weapon by the door, you make your way to the kitchen, remembering that you'd bought a pack of beer earlier in the week. Cracking a cold one while laying beneath the stars sounded like a better pass time than staring at the ceiling while you tried to teeter off to unconsciousness. The fridge is empty when you look inside, but you're not surprised by that. That just meant someone-- definitely Dante-- nicked some beer off of you. He probably took the pack with him, which you didn't mind all that much either.

Trish said you two were more alike than the two of you'd ever realize, though you're a bit more level headed than the younger son of Sparda. With a knowing sigh, you close the door and hike it upstairs to meet him there.

Dante sat there, arm resting on the back of the lawn chair in anticipation. He'd been waiting, not long since you knew he'd be up here, but still waiting. He's got that look in his eyes, and you give him a look of your own as you mosey on over to join his side.

"I thought Lady told you not to bring those in", you take a seat, groaning as you plop down into the plastic.

"You won't tell on me, will ya? Here", he picks up a bottle from the bucket between the two of you and pops the cap off using the rim.

"... Thanks", you take it, deciding not to comment on him giving you your own beer. You bring it to your lips and swallow it down, the taste only hitting your tongue a second afterwards.

Dante chuckles at the face you make, watching as you slowly turn the bottle over to look at the label. Definitely not getting this again. You're baffled at how badly it tastes, but continue to drink it anyways. You've had... well you can't really say you've had worse than this.

"Tastes like..?"

"Tastes like horse piss", you finally say, earning another chuckle from the legendary devil hunter.

You give him a soft smile as you eye the bucket, there's two more in tow, not that you'd take another after finishing the first. Dante swirls the bottle around in his grasp like it's a fancy wine glass while he eyes you, you flick your eyes over to him and study his expression for a moment. You're not shy, not at all, but... it's different when it's him. You're looking up at the dark sky, illuminated by the stars as you let him muse some more. You hate how you tend to squirm when you know he's been looking at you for long enough.

"You have a good day today?", he asks, grinning as he turns to look at the stars too. They really are so gorgeous tonight. It's not often that Redgrave allows for starry nights.

"Mm, better now that I'm back", you say, trying to word things carefully.

Today kind of sucked, but you weren't going to tell him that per say. It was sort of uneventful aside from the job you took earlier. It's not that it was hard, but there were just so many. Your arms would be as heavy as lead tomorrow, that you were sure of.

"Good to hear. Can't say the same for myself", he took another swig for the sake of it.

"Why? You forget to take the trash out again?", you asked with a small laugh in your voice. You'd seen him get scolded before by Trish for not bothering with keeping the place clean. It's alarming how grimy he can be, and a miracle that any of you are able to put up with it.

"Whaaaat? No...", Dante says it in a way that sounds uncertain, "I just didn't have anything better to do, and no one to bother, but now that you're here~" "Right, right", you shake your head before the silence between you two settles in again. Not that you mind, but you'd know that Dante would.

The hunter wasn't really one for comfortable silences, they always felt awkward for him. When were you supposed to break them? When was it alright to cut in and say something? Of course, if you didn't say anything, he wouldn't say anything. You get the urge to when you have the cold bottle start to nip at your finger tips.

"It's a nice night out", finally turning to look at him.

His hair falls in front of his face like a mop, you're not sure how he's able to say anything with the strands of white sitting in front of his face, but somehow he makes do. His eyes are a soft kind of blue, the color of daylight. He's got a couple of wrinkles too, you notice, just around his eyes as he holds that easy smile. It makes you twist at the thoughts you think up when your own eyes rest on him for too long. In the time that you've known him for, something started to develop between all the fights for life and death.

Something he doesn't know about.

"Sure is...", he trails off, setting his bottle down on the ground between his legs.

He's got his hands in his lap, fumbling with his gloves for a second. You want to say something, maybe you're on the cusp of it before he starts talking about how he wished he had some pizza right now. He can never get enough of the stuff. The conversation carries itself after that, the two of you going back and forth with how there are other places to order from with you even suggesting that he learns how to cook for himself. He retorts by saying he'd burn the kitchen down. You fire back by saying you'll teach him not to. Dante complains that he can't get boiled water right.

You're both fascinated and frustrated by how stubborn he can be. Your exasperated responses only make him laugh when you tell him you're being serious(you're not.) He knows you just as well as you know him, given that he'll relent if you keep pressing eventually, but it's so like him to still want to push your buttons. How could he not when you reacted like he'd bombed an orphanage? With every offended gasp and 'HUH?!' he'd inch his way closer to you, and you'd do the same. You're pressing your knees together, a little cold from being out on the roof and nearly huddling together just to stay warm. The night is getting older and older, you realize but you're still not tired.

Dante gives you a little nudge, looking at you for a hot second. By then, you'd gotten through the first bottle, and out of boredom you started on your second which was just about done. He had stopped after he finished his first, and even joked about you liking the taste of horse piss with how you still drank it even if it was gross.

"What?"

"Nothin'... just... Mm, I don't know", he shrugged, his sky blues going to steal a glimpse at your lips. A hand reaches out to touch your knee. You look at it like it's a bug, surprised but indifferent. You could move it if you’d like, but you let it remain.

He likes the way you, in spite of how seriously badass you were and could be, got nervous when he did this. It wasn't hard to throw you off guard, at least when it didn't matter like this. Your heart falls upon his ears as your eyes slowly look up to meet his. The hand travels upwards, sliding against your thigh as he shifts his seat to be closer towards you. If you didn't want this, he'd pull away, slip through the door and leave you be. He hoped he wasn't wrong about this. You swallow dryly, reaching up yourself to gingerly reach out and touch him too. Your tedious approach is endearing, ever careful as you inch closer and test his own knee as if it were unfamiliar territory. 

Gravity draws the two of you together, Dante leans in and you get a whiff of his scent. He smells like sweat and blood, mingling together nicely with his musk. It’s earthy, grounding… entirely home. You smell a thousand times better, in his opinion. He could breathe you in for hours, but he’d rather have a taste. One of his hands comes up to brush your hair out of the way, his thumb padding over your cheek as he moves in for the kill. It’s so cute to hear your breath catch in your throat as he presses his lips against yours. 

You feel… soft to him here. 

It’s almost ticklish, prompting a smirk as you lean into him. Your own hands coming up to mirror his own. They’re a bit cold from nursing the shitty bear, but they’re plenty welcomed. It’s comforting, gentle and speaks volumes. Just how long have you been keeping yourself at bay? The kiss was naive in the beginning, but now he wanted more. He wanted to get past that nasty beer taste on his tongue and he wanted to feel your warmth on the inside. 

You were hungry for that, he could tell, could feel it as you were on the precipice of surrendering. His other hand works its way up your leg some more, almost coming flush against your pelvis before a door is opened. The sound jostles you as he pauses and draws back to see who it was interrupting your soiree. While you move to get more comfortable in the plastic chair, he seems to be having a chat with Trish, something about Lady having told him to take out the trash. The demoness was about to lay into him further, before she glanced over to see you sitting a little too close to Dante. 

“I got it, I got it”, he says. 

Trish disappears with a quiet chuckle as the son of Sparda spares you a knowing look, apologetic for a second before putting on a more hopeful expression. 

“I’ll be right back if you wait for me”

“Don’t keep me long”

[d34dlysinner]

Angels: you WENCH, SLEEP WITH THE DEVILS TO FREE THEY?!? HAVE YOU NO SHAME!!!

MC: no but i have great taste, good Solomon genes for stamina and only bring the best to my bed! while smiling

How the devils hold react to they saying that? (for real 80 devils! MC has that Solomon genes were it counts!)

(If this is answered late it's probably because I'm just putting a lot of devils on here. Because I want to. SORRY FOR THE LATE POST.) TW: mentions of violence. Let's assume they're on a battlefield. The demons do feel pride. Especially when you put them on a high pedestal. Some of them will show it and some others won't some might even scold you for irritating the angels even more. Gehenna: Satan: "HEAR THAT FUCKERS? THOSE WILL BE THE LAST WORDS YOU'LL HEAR FROM THEM! >:)", he says. He felt prideful at your words and wasn't afraid to show it. He will boast about it as he continues fighting against the angels. His reaction was cute in a way until you saw how violent he continued to be on the battlefield. Sitri: He was sipping his tea when he heard. Only gave a little huff and smirk as he continued fighting. "Thank you for the kind words, but at the moment we need to be smart.", he says as he listened to heartbeats fade. Leraye: "YOU HEARD THEM!", he says as he continues shooting at the angels. "Like my shooting, their words never miss." Paimon: "Cuuute! The human is fighting back!", he says as he continues to make a scene during battle. Zagan: "Thank you, child. Your kind words remind me of him.", he says before running towards another spot to shoot at the enemy. Belial: He gave you a smile and continues to be at your side as he'd rather defend you when you're near him. Jjyu on the other hand leaked his thoughts. Astaroth: "So, you can fight back?", he says as he gave you a smirk. Never looking away from the enemy as he does. He felt proud at you talking back.

Tartaros: Mammon: "You have the gift of seeing true value.", he says as he stood next to you. "You angels could never touch this treasure of mine." He pulled you close as a way to show that you were his. Bimet: "I see that you have taste. Good.", he says as he continued defending at your side. He always feels pride when getting praise, but he wouldn't show it as easy as his king. Eligos: His eyes went big as he felt ecstatic at the praise. He didn't say anything, but seeing how he suddenly looked more motivated to fight said enough already.

Hades: Leviathan: "My, my..." He said as he felt his confidence boost up, but that feeling changed into embarrassment. He envies the prideful version of himself. He wants to turn back to 10 seconds ago. His fighting didn't change though. Barbatos: He smirked as he continued attacking the enemy. Since he's a midrange attacker he wouldn't be able to talk to you, but he does appreciate the words. Foras: He either didn't hear you or he's too focussed on the battle. That's what you thought, but later after scaring away the angels he'd run up to you and kisses your hands. "Thank you for the words." Glasyalabolas: "You heard them. Time to make way for a new kingdom. One where they'll be at my side.", he says as he, the president of butchers, continues to annihilate the enemies.

Avisos: Beelzebub: He gave a smirk as he stood by you. He wasn't fighting intensively at the start, but you saying that made him motivated to help. Bael: He honestly was too busy to notice what you said. When he starts wtith something he focusses until it's finished. So when starting this battle, he has done nothing else than just giving orders and fooling angels. Stolas: "Nice words, but not the right place.", he honestly wasn't embarrassed even when he was blushing at the moment. But he just felt that he doesn't have enough ammo to fend off irritated angels. Amon: The sleepy boy suddenly woke up to your words. He was absent-minded when fighting and snapped out of it with a smirk on his face. You'll be dinner later then. He said as he couldn't help but flirt at the moment. Naberius: "This is really not the right time for this.", he sighed as he felt like you helped heat up the battle. He just hopes that Avisos came prepared enough to fend of all the angels.

Abaddon: Phenix: Phenix was at the front line on the battlefield. So, it DID surprise you that he heard your response. He honestly didn't mind you saying these things and in fact loved that you irritated the angels. It just meant that they'll less likely avoid him. Meaning he could continue slaughtering. Dantalian: Another one that just doesn't care and is at the front lines too. He wants to feel fear. So you agitating the angels maybe helped him. He uses the opportunity to feel fear. Ronove: He didn't need to be on the front lines to fight. His influence on demons was already enough input for him. The lunacy he puts on the demons was already enough. This gave him time to spend with you. He sat at your side in case any angel came too close. He smirked at you. "I may cause Devils to charge at angels, but you have the opposite effect in this case."

Niflheim: Gusion: "You shouldn't agitate the enemy. We're already in small numbers.", he said with a sigh of annoyance. Yes, he was glad you felt this way, but you saying this didn't help him. Bathin: Silence, just silence. You were used to it though. He wasn't the talkative type. Andrealphus: "Continue doing that and stay close to me.", he says. He's blind. So he needs to attract angels in a way to fight them. You saying that and agitating the enemy is just what he needs. He can help you as long as you stick to him.

Paradise Lost: Morax: "Seems like you're seeking for trouble.", he says. You can't see it, but he's smiling at your guts. He can rest knowing that you aren't afraid of the enemy. Marbas: "You shouldn't agitate them... We have our hands full already.", being a healer is tough in war. The work and trying to keep others alive was at times too much for him. Buer: "Smart move.", he says. You don't know if he meant this sarcastically or not. He probably wanted more reasons for Marbas to stay busy as he does his own thing. "Next time you should tell them the details."

[madaboutmunson]

And I'm sorry you were thinking I would steal your fire

Ao3 Link

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Link to fic overview and all parts

Chapter Summary: The morning after where Steve attempts to process the night before

Author Notes: Songs that were inspirational whilst writing this chapter:

Heart In A Cage - The Strokes Lovefool - The Cardigans

Tags/Warnings for whole fic: rockstar!AU; band; touring; music industry; alternate universe; drug usage; alcohol abuse; performing; enemies to lovers; road trip; stobin; platonic stobin; platonic with a capital P; canon typical violence; angst; masochism; fist fight; smut; fluff;

Word Count: 6.3K

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Steve attempts to open his eyes and manages one. The other is shut tight and stings. In fact, the more he becomes conscious, the more his entire body aches. He makes a mental note to call down for some painkillers. 

As he becomes more aware of his body and his eyes adjust to his surroundings, he finds himself not laid out on his back as usual but curled up on his side. For the first time in maybe half a decade, no one is touching him, draped across him, or snoring in his ear. It's just him and the soft cotton sheets beneath. He shifts his legs slightly and feels a little burn in his thighs but welcomes moving to the cooler area of the bedding.

His mind does a violently quick slideshow of last night. His finger subconsciously runs over his lips, and there is a slight sting when he accidentally brushes over a cut. Mine, he thinks to himself. Though he knows it was probably just heat of the moment, cock-drunk words, alone he allows himself to hold them closer than he should. He knows Eddie could never feel like that about him, not after all the trouble he caused. 

And doesn't that just fucking land the most brutal blow of all?

Steve rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. His reflection is not staring right back for a change, and he can't pick out all his imperfections, but he didn't need a mirror for that game. Most of them weren't visible anyway. At least today, his outsides match his insides. 

Sure, he built Eddie into something he wasn't. He'd ruined Eddie's life and couldn't pursue anything anyway. Not with everything hanging in the balance. But fuck if he wouldn't leap at the chance if he had it. Eddie was right. When he'd walked through the door to that meeting, he'd stopped him in his tracks entirely. Steve didn't really believe in love at first anything, not anymore, but he knew a hot guy when he saw one. Not only hot but talented and passionate about what he does. The way he talked about his ex, he probably loves ferociously, as evident from last night, rage-fuelled or not, he can definitely fuck ferociously, not that Steve had anything to compare him to, only women and the odd blow or hand job from a guy. He can already tell that sitting down anywhere would be interesting today but fucking worth it, he smiles to himself.

He'd never imagined it could be so good. The first orgasm was incredible, but that second time, he actually thought he'd died, completely lost himself for a few seconds, utterly checked out. That feeling was dangerous, addictive, even. Because if there is a sensation Steve enjoyed most, it is not being trapped in reality. This was different, though. The way his body felt so charged, then that blip of absolute stillness, then after how his skin felt like it was humming, and his head was full of cotton candy, and then all he could see, think or comprehend was Eddie.

Maybe that's what made him reach out for him? Like he was a lifesaver that Steve so desperately needed. So he'd copied him, made Eddie taste how he'd ruined him, and called him his own because he wanted it so badly right then and there.

For those final moments to last forever, so neither of them would ever have to go back to before, remember why they were fighting, or have to deal with the aftermath between them or anyone else.

He is struggling to put into words for himself what he's feeling. It's not love. He doesn't even know Eddie, not that that's ever stopped Steve from immediately thinking he was in love before, but he's had his fingers burned many times now. He knows it doesn't work that way, but he knows he wants him. Wants him over and over, more than a drink, more than a line, more than a pill, more than a fat pay cheque. But it's also more than just want. That's too crude, and it's more precious than purely some wanton lust.

And then there was after. When Eddie lay back on him, catching his breath, he looked so beautiful. He completely collapsed in Steve's arms, like he was free of everything weighing him down for a minute. Steve would have loved to have stayed longer in that bubble, but he was afraid of saying something ridiculous and genuinely worried about covering up as much as he could.

A manly fight he could get away with, but a manly fuck, no way. He'd save that thought for Robin later. She might find that funny if she wasn't pissed at him too.

Steve worries he'd show too much of his soft underbelly to Eddie. Showering with him, getting him a warm towel, asking him to stay. Maybe the positive side of that could be he wouldn't have to pretend so much around him? Well, for however long that might be. He just didn't want to be too far from him, that was all, and not in a possessive or horny way, but almost like he needed Eddie near for a little longer. Like Steve had moulted his shell, and he needed Eddie to protect his vulnerable state until a new one grew back. He usually didn't want to wake up alone purely for his ego's needs, for adoration, not safety.

He turns his head to the side, and the bed is empty. He trails his hand over the bedding where he would have slept. He picks up a pillow and sniffs at it, but it doesn't smell anything like him, not a trace of that musky, metallic, woody, leathery scent from sex, violence and cologne. The pillow just reeks of the shared products in the shower.

He holds it against himself anyway and stares up at the ceiling. He hears footsteps approaching and prepares himself for the incoming lecture from someone, slowly shuts his eyes and braces for impact.

"Ah, you're awake. Any idea where the coffee machine is?" Eddie asks, and Steve's stomach drops so hard he feels like the mattress swallows him up and spits him back out.

"What are you doing here?" Steve blurts out, even though he knows that's not what he means. He's trying to get over the fact Eddie actually stayed.

Eddie looks awkwardly around the room, adorably screws up his face, "You, um, you kinda asked me too. You don't remember?" He asks, starting to look a little worried.

Steve swallows nervously and quickly plays it off, "Of course, wasn't gonna make you walk past Buckley on your own, now was I?" He adds an extra detail, an innocent one, to ease Eddie's concerns about him being out of it or high or something. He remembered he asked about him taking anything last night. He hadn't. He was just having the fucking time of his life. 

Steve wonders if it would have mattered how he'd answered that question? If he'd said yes, would Eddie have tried to get away with something wholly debauched, or would he have stopped all proceedings. That thought makes his mouth dry, but he can't decide if the nervousness is from fear, excitement or both.

Steve tries to sit up quickly and immediately regrets it because the pain is incredible, and he's sore in places he never thought he could be. Still, he tries not to show it, just bites his lips together, "We don't make the coffee," and checks the time. It's like five in the morning. The trolley wouldn't be outside yet, but he could call it earlier. "We call for it." He smiles, dials the front desk, requests some painkillers and relays Eddie's order, "Shouldn't be long. They're really the best staff here." Steve enthuses, but his smile fades slightly when he sees the darkened bruising on Eddie's face and neck.

"Eddie, can I just say something?" He asks but doesn't wait for Eddie's permission. He needs to get this out, "I don't expect forgiveness or anything. I just wanna say I'm sorry." He turns his back to Eddie as he talks, "I got obsessed with the photo, and I should never have posted my frustrations publically, but believe me when I say I was stupid enough not to understand the implications of that, and no one told me anything had happened to your business after. I just thought you were busy being successful, like me, and I couldn't work out why you continually didn't want to work with me again. I'm just an idiot, Eddie. I didn't mean any malice." He wraps his arms around himself, "And yesterday, when you said the photo was meaningless, I just lost my mind. I can't explain too much, and this also isn't me trying to make an excuse. I just wanted to give some context. It was just all I had at points. The hope that one person in the universe really saw me. Even though they were a stranger, I had the evidence in print, or so I thought." 

He turns his head to look back at Eddie, who's sitting on the other side of the bed, his back turned to him, too, "I'm sorry, I got that wrong, and if I can in any way repair anything I did, please give me a chance to do that. I know we're not gonna be buddies, but if you're happy to and they let us, maybe we can at least finish these projects civilly? Then we can both leave with something; if not, I have connections. I've got more money than I know what to do with," he laughs awkwardly and, in a panic, quickly adds, "N-not like in a charity way. Not like that at all. I just want to…If you're happy with it, try and fix what I broke."

For a while, there is quiet.

"You think they'll let us?" Eddie asks. Steve can't read Eddie's tone if he's hopeful or wants the label to give him an easy way out of this whole thing. His heart stirs groggily in its cage anyway.

"I don't know, honestly. I think there is enough contractual red tape to make it not worth their time to sift through, but, you know, at least we got some shots, and we did a bit for your book on the plane, right? It's not like we don't have anything at all." Steve forces a laugh, trying to make light of everything, even though he feels like he's collapsing inside, enduring the longest goodbye.

"Yeah. You're right." Eddie agrees. There is another patch of silence, and Steve loathes it because his thoughts are so loud. He really needs to shut off, but he doesn't have anything. He can feel himself get antsy at the prospect.

Steve gingerly shifts his position on the bed to turn to see him. "I don't mind doing a little more now if you like?" Eddie's head snaps to the side, looking slightly alarmed. Steve quickly realises how his words might be misunderstood and turns his head away. "Of the-the interview, I mean, for the book. Your book." he stumbles awkwardly over his words, a little embarrassed.

"You sure?" Eddie asks.

Steve, eager to regain any crumb of his rockstar cred that he can, snorts out a laugh, "Yeah, man, I pretty much have interviews all the time. It's part of the job, you know? Though I'm assuming you don't have any thirst tweets for me to read out?" Steve tries a little humour, and it works.

"Unfortunately not, Ha-Steve. Unfortunately not," Eddie chuckles, and Steve's heart wrestles at its bars because it didn't miss how he'd corrected himself over his name. "Could you maybe go for some background questions? Or is that too personal? I can keep it to just music if you prefer?" 

Steve's brain does prefer that. Stick to now. The music. That's what it said the project was about. It's not an autobiography. They already have two people lined up for that. But, whilst Steve knows all of that is correct, he is completely distracted by his feral withered heart gnawing at its prison, foaming at the mouth to tell Eddie anything, everything, let him know you, see you. 

"Background is fine, but there are some things that I can't tell you, ok? It's label stuff, and I dunno if someone found your tape and leaked it, it could have some real dire consequences for many people." Steve tries to sound business-like, as his mom taught him to do in stressful situations.

There is a gentle knock at the door, and Eddie jumps up to get it, and Steve has to painfully chase him down, "You aren't supposed to be here," he whispers, catching his breath, resists marginally from touching Eddie's shoulder to make him step back, but they both look at his hand braced to do so. Steve briskly turns to the door to open it. 

A uniformed young lady stands on the other side of the trolley. Fuck he should have waited. He leans in the doorway, pops his hip out, turns up the Harrington, lowers his tone and volume, and slows down. "Mornin', sugar," he drawls," Thanks for bringing this up early." He beams brightly and watches her eyes widen, her phone clutched in one hand. He gestures to it. "Do you mind if we don't? Not looking my best." He laughs charmingly, and the girl relaxes. He pulls the trolley into the room but keeps his attention on her, "You got anything for me to sign, honey?" Without tearing her eyes from his, she rolls up her sleeve and extends her inner forearm to him, "Sure thing…." 

"Angela!" She says quickly.

"Oh well, at least that's an easy one for me. You're mostly Angel, right?" He laughs at his own joke and raises an eyebrow, and the nervous, wild giggle that spills out of her is hilarious.

He takes the pen and gently holds her arm. He knows the line enough to get them all excited, not enough that it makes him look like a skeevy letch. He writes her name and repeats it for her again as he signs her skin. That's the kind of thing they like to hear. "There you go, honey. Actually, wait a second," she's busy gawping at her arm, tracing it with her finger. He quickly heads to one of the boxes in the room. He comes back with some merch, "Here you go. Hot off the press program, which is already signed, with some exclusive fan club stuff and a T-shirt they haven't released yet. Not on sale until the first show," She's beaming for a second, but her eyes trace over him again.

"Are you sure everything is ok, Mr Harrington? I could get one of the on-site medical staff?" She asks meekly.

A concern sweeps over him. Pictures will be taken of him and Eddie, both with bruises, and it will be hard to cover up, but he could attempt to get in first. He looks around, his voice falling to a whisper, and he leans in towards her, "Listen, just between you and me. I ran into some people who didn't like me very much. It got a bit physical, but my friend got me out of there, even though they suffered for that too."

"Robin Buckley?" She says excitedly, and that's when Steve knows he's got a real fan on his hands.

"Unfortunately not, if Robin had been there. I know they wouldn't have even gotten one punch in," he gives her another dazzling smile, and she nods affirmatively. "Anyway, I better get these painkillers down me. It was so lovely to meet you, Angela. Hope to see you at the show." He beams and waits for her to walk away before closing the door.

Only to be immediately confronted with Eddie, and he nearly jumps out of his skin, "What happened to I'm not supposed to be here?" he says, worry etched on his face.

"I know, and you aren't, but the thing is, she saw me, and if what you said about my fans is true, that they don't like you, and they see you fucked up too, which they will by the way because this place will be crawling with photographers tonight, then they are gonna put two and two together. Whereas now, we've got in first. So, there will be at least two sides to it. She'll post about all of this now, and it'll go viral. She'll love the attention. She'll get haters and people on her side," Steve says reassuringly, "One side will think you saved me," Steve says, accidentally searching Eddie's eyes for a second before quickly turning to the trolley and pushing it through to another small seating area, that didn't contain his last night events staged area. "Go get your stuff, dude," Steve says, trying to sound impatient, but he doesn't look at Eddie except to watch him leave the room.

Steve takes the opportunity to ease himself into an armchair and grab a coffee and some painkillers. He looks at the breakfast spread of actual food. He can't remember the last time he actually ate breakfast. He pours a coffee for himself and ignores it all for now. He hadn't meant to say it like that, not saved me . He meant stepped in or got me out of there. He thinks about the choice of words and wonders if that is a subconscious thing. Does he feel saved, or at least is he starting to?

Eddie barrels back into the room. With a small notepad and dictaphone at the ready, he gets totally distracted by the trolley and nearly trips over the coffee table. "Jesus, dude, watch where you're going!" Steve exclaims, quickly reaching out and grabbing the back of his t-shirt, stopping him just in time.

They both look at where Steve is holding onto him, and he lets go, "Help yourself to whatever, man. Just don't brain yourself in the process." Steve says it like he's reprimanding a kid. A tingling sensation rushes from his hand that had been bunched in the material up his arm, and his mind flashes to how he'd wound Eddie's T-shirts around his fingers to pull him closer last night. He quickly shakes it off and wraps his hands around his coffee mug instead, waiting for his insides to stop backflipping.

"You not hungry?" Eddie asks, piling some food on a plate, and though he tries not to look, he feels compelled to, like if he doesn't, it might be the end of the world. He shakes his head in a no and then watches Eddie do something entirely mundane, but Steve is completely transfixed, taking in every detail he can, like Eddie's moving in slow motion. 

Steve's watching Eddie's dexterous fingers selectively pick apart the breakfast trolley, like he'd plucked at the worn ties holding Steve together last night, watches him taste small samples with that mouth that trailed over him, made him bend to its will, swallowed up his sounds of ecstasy for its own, and he's desperately trying not to watch it work around a fresh strawberry. Eddie wields his weapons like he doesn't know they're lethal.

"You sure you aren't hungry, man? Is it-Is it because someone normally fixes you a plate?" Eddie looks at him, a little confused, "Do you need me to fix you a plate?"

"Huh? No, um, I don't normally eat breakfast. Buckley usually brings me my breakfast , but it's a little early." Steve says with an awkward smile, air quoting around breakfast. 

Eddie's nose scrunches up, and it's impossibly cute, "Then why do you order the….ohhhh got it. For your guests," Eddie laughs, then goes a little quiet, sits on the floor next to the coffee table and begins wolfing down his food, almost at an alarming rate.

Steve laughs, "Are you worried someone's gonna steal it, or is it just that good?" he teases.

"No!" Eddie says with his mouth full, then dabs his mouth, finishes his mouthful and starts over, "No. I'm just in a hurry because I wanna ask you more stuff, but I'm also so hungry I could eat a mammoth." His hands and arms animate his words, his eyes are wide with exuberance, and Steve adores that completely. Is this him? Is he seeing a genuine part of Eddie now? He tries to keep hold of the moment.

"How about we put the recorder nearer me? You ask your questions, and I can still answer if you're eating. Rather that than you choke to death on….what is that?" Steve says, confused, looking at his plate.

"Well, it's, er, you know, a half pancake, half-waffle, bacon, hash brown, strawberry and maple syrup taco-thing, of course" he pushes out a fake laugh like Steve should know what this is.

"A what now?" Steve says, even more confused.

"It's a piggy-spud-berry breakfast taco," he says with a grin, taking a much smaller nibble.

"Well, first of all, wow, that sounds insane, and second of all, this is all vegan, so it's a non-piggy-spud-berry breakfast taco." Steve corrects, still with a bit of concern in his voice.

"We'll colour me impressed because I did not know this was fake, and the only insane thing about this marvellous creation is the taste. Flavour town population me!" He takes another bite but stops with a smile, "Wanna try it?"

"No!" Steve replies like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever been asked. He watches the mischief spread over Eddie's smile.

"Oh my god, you so do wanna try it!" He laughs.

"I'm quite happy with my coffee, thanks." Steve frowns and shakes his head.

"Ok, ok. Fine." He presses record on the dictaphone and pushes it in front of Steve, "So I know you were born in Indiana like me, but where did you grow up?"

"Hawkins," Steve answers, and Eddie's head snaps towards him. He frowns at first and then shakes his head.

"No. Not possible," he says, turning back to his breakfast monstrosity.

"What do you mean? Not possible. I was born in Hawkins. I left my first junior year of high school." Steve laughs at Eddie's audacity in telling him his own history was impossible.

Eddie turns to him again, "Because I lived in Hawkins, too! Moved in with my uncle in middle school. Left when I graduated. First time, I might add, which no one saw coming" Eddie raises his eyebrows at Steve, "So you can't be from Hawkins. Otherwise, I would have known you. I had my own metal band. We would have been friends, acquaintances for sure!" He laughs.

"A metal band in Hawkins? How old are you?" Steve asks quickly.

"I'm a year older than you, dude," Eddie answers, "Anyway, I'm interviewing you, so tell me where you really grew up."

"In Hawkins! I just told you that. Wait, wait. We're you in…uh…. don't tell me….Constricted Coffin?" Steve says, wracking his brain.

"Corroded, and how the fuck did you know that?" Eddie says, turning to him again.

"Because I was there! There was a cheer performance, and when we moved up to high school, they would be our cheer squad possibly, so we over dramatically decided all of us had to go to support them because eventually, they'd be supporting us or some bullshit like that" Steve says cringing a little.

"Wait…us… were you a fucking Jock?" Eddie says, his mouth wide open in surprise.

"Yeah, well, kinda, I guess co-swim captain, played basketball," he shrugs.

"Holy shit!" Eddie says, staring at Steve and taking a bite from his breakfast taco, "So ok, now we've established this is absolutely insane. Why did you leave?"

"I got scouted by a modelling agency whilst drowning my sorrows." 

"In your junior year?"

"Yes! I was seeing this girl, she went a bit weird on me," Steve lies, but it's not Eddie's business, that is top secret shit, "I wanted to apologise, climbed up to her window and she was already trying to get it on with this other guy. I'm an idiot, so I stomped to my car and told my friends. They tried to wind me up about fighting with this guy, and then they suggested going out, and the rest is history."

"So you were underage drinking, and a modelling agency picked you up?"

"Yep. That's about it."

"You were a very young man in a bar, and someone much older than you said, 'Hey, wanna be a model?' And you were like, 'Yeah', and they emitted some evil laugh, I suppose and dragged you into the night? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" Eddie asks sarcastically.

"Well, it didn't quite go like that. I got their card, called them the next day, and got signed up," Steve shrugs.

Eddie narrows his eyes and pinches the thumb and forefinger of his hand together tightly, "Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been? Hmmm? That could have been some rapist maniac serial killer." Steve just laughs. 

"Well, they weren't. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, now would I? I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself," Steve says, laughing at Eddie's concern for his past self.

"Says the big boy who won't eat his breakfast," Eddie shakes his head. Now, when he said big boy, that sounded a lot different, at least to Steve's ears and heart rate anyway.

"God, you're such a fucking nag!" Steve pretends to be annoyed and leans towards the plate again, "Go on then, let's try this culinary horror show." Steve makes a show of rolling his eyes, but his heart is pounding being this close again. He hopes it doesn't show. Eddie excitedly starts cutting him up a piece, making sure there is a little of everything and stabs it with a fork.

"Here we go," Eddie says with a huge toothy grin as he moves the fork towards Steve's mouth as if he is going to feed it to him. Steve looks a little confused, and Eddie seems a little nervous.

Steve gently takes the fork from his hand, brushes their fingers together minimally and feeds the mouthful to himself. Eddie watches him the entire time.

"Well? The verdict?"

Steve has been chewing over the sickeningly sweet morsel with the occasional blast of bacon flavour and the odd texture combination tumbling over in his mouth. But his face doesn't show a modicum of disgust because not a metre from his face is a wide-eyed, encouraging, beaming, handsome man making his imprisoned heart pound so hard in his chest it is bending the cage bars with each one. Steve doesn't want to peel his eyes away, but he also can't stare blankly like a maniac, so he pretends to mull over the flavours, pulling faces of thoughtfulness, surprise, alarm, confusion, whatever he can think of, and each one seems to make Eddie smile more until he laughs, and with his prize won Steve settles back in his armchair. 

"I think it might be an acquired taste." Steve smiles into his coffee cup with his secrets, and there is a quiet patch. Steve hates it. He wants to say so many things, wants to ask so many things, none of which he can permit himself to, of course. He hears a click, and his eyes shoot to Eddie's hand on the voice recorder.

"Wanna get our story straight?" Eddie asks, not looking at him. Steve almost blushes and laughs at his wording because whatever they hope to hide with this story, it sure as hell is not straight. 

"Is the interview over, then?" Steve questions carefully. Keeping to the subject at hand, but that isn't really what he's asking.

Eddie pushes the remaining food around his plate and replies, "I figure if we don't fuck up the cover story, they'll believe us, maybe? Then this doesn't have to be over, does it?"

Steve's brain knows Eddie is talking about their respective projects, but his rabid heart is bending back the bars of its cell now, trying to squeeze itself through, clawing at the air towards Eddie, but it can't quite make it. It tuckers itself out and is left panting on the floor of its cage.

"I guess the easiest thing to go for is sports, right? Drunk people fight about the stupidest things. Maybe you slated The Bulls or something?" Steve suggests with a shrug, and Eddie looks at him wide-eyed like he's trying his very best not to burst out laughing but folds his arms instead.

"What could I have said about your precious Bulls that would have instigated a physical fight between us?" he asks with a smile.

"That they were shit last season," Steve says matter-of-factly, and that pulls a low hearty chuckle from Eddie.

"No one is gonna buy that, dude," he laughs, waving his hands in front of himself.

"Eddie, I've been playing this game of hide and very little seek with the label, the fans, and the media for some time. The simpler, the better. Trust me," 

"And what if they grill me on that, huh? Then what?"

"You frown at them like they're complete weirdos and say, I don't fucking know, I was drunk," Steve smiles broadly and quickly turns it down a few levels.

"You seem well-practised," Eddie says, returning to his food. Steve detects a hint of something, surely not jealousy, resentment maybe.

"At lying to people that hate what I am, yeah, at tidying up hotel rooms only to stage a mess, no," that gets him a side glance from Eddie. He leans over and clicks to start recording again.

"So your modelling career is fairly well documented already, but how did you jump ship into music? Has it always been something you enjoyed?" Eddie asks in his best news anchor voice, and Steve ducks his head down to hide his smile before replying.

"Well, here's an exclusive for you. They asked me to join a boyband first," Steve chuckles, and he looks over to see Eddie's mouth dropped wide open in shock.

"No fucking way. There is no way that's true!" Eddie folds his arms, but a colossal smile erupts on his face.

"I swear, dude. I swear." Steve can't help but mirror him this time, and the laughter is spilling out of them both now, and it feels so good. Almost like friends. Almost like two guys that hadn't tried to knock one another out less than twelve hours ago.

"I just can't imagine it, you all like," Eddie makes some vague, robot arm movements, and Steve can't hold back any longer. The laugh that bursts from him is loud, unashamed and unreserved.

"Please do not tell me that is what you think dancing is," he manages to say between laughs, trying to catch his breath, clutching his sides.

"You don't like my moves? Consider me crushed!" Eddie clasps his hands together and punches himself in the chest.

He's a jester, Steve thinks as he barely holds on to his mask. The smile of fondness warming his cheeks, the giggles threatening just behind the surface that he is sure his heart might use as a crowbar if he lets them happen. He swallows them down and clears his throat, quickly turning away from Eddie's newly trailing gaze and pleased smirk.

Clearly, he likes to entertain as much as the next person in his own way. "Insults aside, Steve, what happened with the boyband?" 

"I think they went with someone else in my place after I turned down the opportunity. I can't say too much because of NDAs and the like, but all I'm saying is they've done very well for themselves!" Steve sips his coffee and notices Eddie looking at him with wide wonder. If he'd been on a seat, he'd be on the edge of it right now.

"And then what happened?" Eddie bores the question into Steve's eyes with his own gorgeous, huge brown ones. He'd think they almost looked innocent if he didn't know the truth. It makes him feel unusual as if he has something to lure Eddie in with now.

Steve reclines more in his seat, "And then, they left me alone for a while. Got invited to some awards show I had no business being at. The red carpet question was about secret talents. I said I could play the guitar, and my agent's phone blew up as soon as it aired. So, it's not really the hard work playing dive joints that most rockstars go through. I asked you to, you know, but the money wasn't there, I guess? I know that fucking pisses people off too, but I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere until the fans, like you said, move onto the new thing."

He sees Eddie's expression fall to something like regret, and he knows he's said the wrong thing.

"Eddie, I didn't mean to bring that up like that. I just meant that's just how it goes in the public eye. You ride the wave of popularity as long as you can before you fall into obscurity, and then, if you're lucky, someone uses one of your old tracks in a cover, show, movie, or social media trend, and you get a renewed interest in your stuff and can get back on the surfboard for a while. So many artists have been through it now. It would be madness to think it wouldn't happen to anyone."

Eddie doesn't seem won over by his words, but before he can apologise, there is a click at the door, and Steve freezes in his chair.

"Mr H?" Buckley's voice rings out, and he instantly relaxes.

"Yeah, come in, Buckley," Steve says, and Eddie quickly scurries to standing. He looks terrified, so he lets his old instincts win and moves to stand in front of him, but Buckley glares around him intensely.

"Still here, I see?" She sneers at Eddie.

"Stand down, Buckley. It's ok. It was pretty even. Look at us," He gestures between himself and Eddie, and he doesn't miss the tiny twitch at the corner of Eddie's mouth when their eyes meet for a fleeting moment. Maybe he hadn't totally blown it.

"Yeah, well, it makes me look shit at my job, so forgive me a little annoyance!" She says, setting down the small case that instinctively makes Steve brush the end of his nose and lick his lips discreetly.

He thinks he can already feel the judgement from Eddie, and Buckley is already pissed, luckily most of it seems to be directed at Eddie, so he tries something to appease them both, "Might save that until after we get hauled in, Buckley. I had some actual breakfast this morning," he awkwardly laughs and hopes for the best, as Buckley stops in her tracks.

As she turns, she looks between them, and her expression softens before returning to something tougher again, "Sure thing, Mr H."

"Hey, I should get going," Eddie says, quickly gathering up his things and almost stumbling over the furniture as he retrieves his bag from the other room.

Robin waits until he's fussing out of sight. She gestures after him and whispers, "He stayed? I thought you'd snuck him out somehow."

Steve looks bashfully at the floor and then back up at her, "I asked him to," he says quietly.

"Steve, what is going on? What happened? Oh my god, did it happen? Like it?" She's still whispering but much more animated and getting closer. Steve cannot bring himself to look at her, but the jingle of Eddie's wallet chain breaks him out of his embarrassment and makes her retreat from him into her military stance.

Eddie comes into view, backpack on top of his jacket, and looks between them, "Ah, so yeah, um, I, er, gonna go," he juts his thumb at the door.

Steve notices the cut-up t-shirt in his hand, and something like envy rises in him. Yes, it's Eddie's T-shirt, but he wants it. He made it what it is. He should be allowed one keepsake. It should be his. He can still see clearly in his mind how the blade sliced through it so effortlessly, fell open to reveal the man underneath it, and lost in thought, he finally catches himself staring at it. 

He looks up into Eddie's eyes. He can feel this is goodbye in his bones, which must be what emboldens him because he soon finds himself stepping towards Eddie and taking the t-shirt out of his hands, "I can take care of that for you, man. Don't want anyone getting a shot of you leaving here with that, you know? You said it wasn't sentimental, right?" Steve asks, knowing, or at least hoping, his words send Eddie back to that moment.

Eddie nods and rubs the back of his neck, "Yeah. Thanks. Saves me dealing with it," he half-smiles, "I'll, um, get yours back to you," he looks up at Buckley, "somehow." and with that, he turns to leave, and Steve grips the cotton in his hand tightly, until it hurts, because he needs to put his feelings about this heart-cracking goodbye somewhere. Eddie opens the door but stops dead in his tracks just before stepping through it. He looks over his shoulder at Steve, "I'm sorry," he says and leaves.

Robin closes the door, waits a little while until Eddie's footsteps can no longer be heard, and then turns to Steve. He looks him up and down, "How bad of a situation are we in?"

"Oh really fuckin' bad," Steve says with a half smile as Robin wraps him in a hug.

[clumsiestgiantess]

Chapter 25 of The Other-world Universe; let’s hope Erica recovers from last chapter…

all chapters linked here

[The Consequences of Your Actions]

When Ivan returned, I was lying down in the place where I'd slept the week of the tunnels' construction.  My stomach churned awfully, and my thoughts spiraled into regret after regret of things I could’ve done differently — things I could’ve done to protect Erica, or prevent her from being hurt at all.

Ivan cleared his throat slightly to announce his arrival, tearing me away from thought.  "I have good news," he said softly, "Erica's alright."  I sat up immediately. "Where is she?  What happened?"  Ivan flinched away from me at my sudden movement, but quickly righted himself.  "She was out cold when I checked up on her, but the nurses told me what happened.  They said she has to stay a few nights there, maybe longer, depending on how she feels when she wakes up."  My small glimmer of excitement faded, but I was still beyond relieved that Erica was ok.  

"What happened to her?"  "A few of Erica's ribs are broken.  Thankfully they hadn't punctured her lungs or they.. might not have been able to save her.  They put her on some pain medication that makes her tired, but there's really not much else they can do.  The best thing to do is tape it up and just wait for it to heal."

"So there was no.. surgery or anything?"  When Ivan said Erica's ribs were broken, I assumed the doctors would have to go in and put them back in place, but Ivan shook his head.  "Nope, no surgery.  Apparently, the bones will grow back on their own so long as Erica does a good amount of breathing exercises, and avoids doing any fighting for the next month or two."

"Alright," I sighed relievedly, feeling a lot less awful than before.  "Oh, and my mom made you these," Ivan added, pulling out a large bag of cookies.  "I know it's not much for you, though.  You probably won't even taste them."  Regardless, I held out my hand.  "I'll take them.  Tell your mom 'thank you' for me."  He nodded.  "And thank you for staying with me, Ivan.  I don't have many friends in this world other than Erica, so it's nice to have you here."  Ivan smiled, looking slightly embarrassed.  "You're welcome."  

It was rather late, so Ivan left to get some sleep.  I decided to stay in the valley for the night, just in case.  I wasn't the least bit tired, so I ate the cookies.  As Ivan predicted, I didn't taste much at all, but it was the thought that counted.  I fell asleep briefly, but got up after a gorey nightmare involving the military people from earlier.  The rest of the night my heart pounded too quickly for me to shut my eyes longer than a quick blink.

Bright and early the next morning, Ivan came back to see me.  He looked eager to talk with me, so I knew he had good news. Without thinking, I scooped him up similarly to how I casually grabbed Erica. He yelped, fearfully clawing at my fingers wrapped around his torso, gasping for breath. “Wh- What are you doing?!” “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to pick you up like that! I- I just got a little excited,” I apologized hastily, opening my palm and cupping him gently. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Ivan shook his head, “No, I wasn't hurt just.. terrified.”

In the few seconds I had him in my grip, I had felt his little panicked heartbeat. “Sorry.” “It’s alright. I’m okay now.” We were silent for an awkward moment. "Oh! Erica asked me to tell you that she's alright," he told me, remembering why he’d come.  "The doctors want to keep her for two weeks at the physical therapy building, just to make sure she doesn't go off and mess up her healing process."  I gave an unamused huff.  "I bet she didn't take that very well."  Ivan laughed slightly, "No, she didn't.  Erica wanted to come out here and see you, but they wouldn't even let her do that.  I don't think the nurses trust you all that much.  They think you might pull her into another fight before she heals up."  

Though I did think it was rude of them to deny us a visit after everything I'd done for the small city, I had to admit that trouble did seem to follow me wherever I went.  I wanted to see Erica just as badly as she wanted to see me, but if the nurses thought she would be safer in the city, I'd leave her be.  "It's only two weeks, right?" I asked Ivan as I let him back down.  "Yep," he replied, "You two will survive just fine without seeing each other for a few weeks."

That's true, but Ivan doesn't know how abruptly we ended our conversation yesterday.  I'd been so shocked over the bucketload of information Erica had given me, I hadn't really thought through it all.  I planned to unpack what I learned as I made my rounds of the mountains surrounding the city.  Someone stopped me before I left, however.  

At first I thought it was Ivan, coming back to tell me more news — maybe the nurses had changed their minds.  But the man coming towards me was too old to be Ivan, though.  Mr. Stoll, maybe?  No, that was too old.  Once he got about two feet of my measurements away, I realized that it was neither of them.

"I- I know you're probably busy, so I won't stay long.  I don't know if this will even make sense, but.. did you..?"  He stopped short and re-thought about what he was trying to say — lifting his hand to shield the sun as he looked all the way up to see me.  I'd seen that kind of hesitation a few times before.  Almost anyone who met me had stumbled over their words or hesitated trying to talk with someone who they had to look almost directly up to make eye contact with.  Slowly, I sat back down in front of him, keeping a bit of distance between us so I didn't scare him off.

The little man tried again.  "Have you ever saved a mountain climber?  Specifically about five-ish years ago?"  I stared down at him, confused.  It was such a strangely specific question.  "N- Nevermind," he backtracked, "It probably has nothing to do with you."  Just as he turned to leave, I jogged my memory of what I did five years ago.  That was around the time I'd convinced myself to completely control Erica.  Not a great point in my life.  However, the strangeness of his questions caused a forgotten memory to resurface.  

"Wait!  Come a bit closer," I asked before he got too far.  The man hesitantly took a few steps in my direction, unwilling to get any closer to me than that.  I gently bent all the way down from my sitting position, so my eyes were somewhat on his level.  Now that I could properly see him, I gasped, recognizing him.  "You.. You're the guy who was stuck on the side of the mountain!" I realized, dumbstruck.  "I saved you invisibly because I was afraid of how you might react if you saw me."

His eyes went wide and he took a step back.  "So that was you?  You're the invisible being that saved my life?"  I nodded, sitting back up.  "I guess so."  The man chuckled in bewilderment.  "Wow.. I'm..  My name's Evan Felton.  It's an honor to finally meet you.  When I found out that one of your inhuman abilities was to become invisible, I realized my mystery hero might've been you."  Smiling fondly down at him, I nodded to the Cavern City.  "How did you find this place?" I asked, "I hope the apocalypse hasn't affected you too badly."  

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head tiredly.  "I lived in Barideen.  You know, the city the giants captured under that tent?"  "Woah, you lived there?"  "Mhm.  With my family — a wife and two kids," he replied.  "They're all safe now, thanks to you.”  He looked up at me thankfully, then his brows furrowed.  “You know, there are some people who speak ill of you in there," Mr. Felton said, turning towards the city.  "I have no clue why, other than the fact that they're just not used to the concept of a good-at-heart giant."  I turned warily to the city as well.  Through the barrier, I could still see the jagged evidence of my rampage months ago.  "Well," I admitted, "You don't know about my history with this particular city."

Mr. Felton turned back to me, slightly confused.  "You see, when I first came across this place, there was a dome of rock over the entire thing.  See where the rock ledges cut off abruptly around the perimeter of the city?  That all used to be part of the mountain.  It covered up everything so naturally that giants couldn't find it.  There was a bit of a.. misunderstanding.  I ended up tearing down the rock ceiling, exposing the place, and almost getting everyone inside captured.  Thankfully I managed to save them, but they probably still don't like me all that much."

"Huh," Mr. Felton mused after a while, "I guess that explains it.  You did fix everything with the barrier, but I can see why they might not trust you."  I nodded, glancing down the valley.  All this talk of my duties towards the Cavern City made me remember what I'd originally intended to do.  "I have to go survey the mountains now.  I'm sorry to leave like this, but it's my job."  He nodded, "Alright, thanks for talking to me.  I'll have to find some way to pay you back for what you've done for me.  This is the second time you've saved my life, and my family's, now, too."

I shook my head, "Oh!  Mr. Felton, you don't have to do anything for me!  I'm glad I could help."  He disagreed.  "No, I insist!  And please just call me Evan.  Mr. Felton was my father.”  I chuckled, “Evan it is, then.”  “Whenever I think of something I can do for you, I'll let you know."  "Alright," I gave in, "Until then."  The little man headed back into the city, and I began my patrol of the mountains.  My spirits had been lifted some by the unexpected visit.  It was nice to see the results of my hard work fighting to keep everyone safe.

I happily continued along my route, but when I came to the western side, I stopped dead in my tracks.  All the bodies from the day before were gone.  The others from the camp must've come back to reclaim them.  I was hoping to leave some sort of message with them — warning the scientists to stop capturing people or threatening me and the city.  However, the bodies themselves might’ve sent that message just fine without a note.  

Tomorrow I'll have to do a reconnaissance mission over to their campsite to see how they reacted to Erica's little killing spree.  That day just wasn't a good day to do it.  I wanted at least a small break from the scientists and military people.  Also, I was still holding out hope that some doctor might overrule the nurses' decision to keep Erica inside for a whole two weeks.  I had to keep reminding myself that it would be healthier for her to stay in the city, no matter how desperately I wanted to talk to her, or even just see her.

On the following day, Ivan greeted me yet again.  He had no news to report other than Erica was miserable and the doctor had approved her two-week-long stay at the physical therapy center.  Before he left, I asked him if he could find a way to get a message to either Mr. Stoll or Ms. Ashford.  I wanted at least one of the founders to know that I was heading out to the scientists' camp.  I took an extra long time eating breakfast, hoping to stall myself until either of them came to address me.  Finally, Mr. Stoll came strolling out of one of the tunnels leading to the Cavern City.  "I was told you wanted to talk with one of the founders," he said gruffly.  "What is it?"

"I just wanted you to know that I'm heading to the scientists’ camp to see how they reacted to the fight a few days ago."  Marcus raised his eyebrows in surprise, "I was going to ask you to do that yesterday, but Ms. Ashford insisted I give you more time to rest."  "I would like that, actually,” I admitted, “But I'm anxious that they might be planning some kind of nefarious revenge."  "Then by all means, go check it out!  Should I summon that boy to help you?"  "Who, Ivan?" I asked, "No, let him have a break.  I'm just going to scout out the place.  I'm not doing any fighting."  Marcus only shrugged and turned to head back into the city.  

About an hour's walk from the mountains, I came upon the site of the scientists' camp.  I almost hadn't recognized it.  Everything was gone.  The only way I realized I was in the right place was because of the abandoned city at its center.  Was it really that easy to scare them off?

Somehow I doubted the terrifying head scientist from the radio broadcast would've simply given up.  Then again, if they were only regrouping to attack later, why would they give up a perfectly good camp?  Unless, of course, they just changed locations because I knew where this campsite was.  My idea from a few days ago sprang up again.  What if the scientists just moved to a further, unprotected spot to capture innocent people where I couldn’t protect them?

Predicting their strategies was already making my head hurt.  After walking around invisibly and double-checking that the camp really was gone, I made the return trip back to the Cavern City.  My report to Mr. Stoll was quick.  The only thing to say was that the camp was gone.  I gave him a few of my theories as to why, then left him to it.

Every night during those two weeks, I slept in the valley, just in case something happened with Erica that I needed to be there for; also just in case the scientists were planning a sneak attack on the city.  Either way, I would be right there at the ready if anything too out-of-the-ordinary happened.  Ivan came to talk with me at least once a day.  I decided not to say anything to him about the recent battle — only that Erica had been an amazing fighter, but was hit quite violently by one of the military people.  

Mr. Felton..  Well, Evan, also came by a second time to offer me thank you letters that his family, and many others, had made for me.  It was touching to know so many people saw me as a hero, not just some mistake-prone giant. Even if they were too afraid to deliver the letters themselves.  

As well as continuing my surveillance, I also continued healing up my bruises.  I brought re-freezable ice packs into the other-world to ease them away.  Between those letters and the occasional visits from other-worldian friends, life was starting to feel comfortable again.  The only thing missing — the biggest thing missing — was Erica.

[conniespringerblkwife]

One of The Girls

(Suguru Geto x Female Reader | NSFW)

A/N: I got a little crush oh geto...

Warnings: Smut: Oral (Female Receiving), Fingering

Summary: you cure Geto's depression

Word Count: 1,217

Songs I listened to while writing:

One of The Girls by The Weeknd, JENNIE, and Lily Rose Depp

"Lock me up and throw away the key..."

The song echoed around you as you wrapped your arms around the man you met 10 minutes ago. His name was Geto. He had long black hair that stopped at the middle of his back and half of it was put up in a bun. He was conversing with a man that had silver hair and was wearing glasses. You immediately pointed out the two fine men to your best friend and the plan was to be bold and talk to them first. However, the man with the white hair hit his friend's shoulder and nodded toward the two of you. They both checked out you and your friend and began walking towards your direction.

You caught Geto's attention the moment he laid his eyes on you. Your friend was cute too, but you were something else. You were ethereal he thought, he had to have you. He came up to you, chatted you up, and bought you a couple drinks. He didn't know where his friend Gojo went, and he also noticed your friend was gone. They were probably hooking up somewhere. That didn't matter though because you had all of his attention. When you two felt more relaxed, he asked you to dance, and you instantly agreed.

***

You two weren't even dancing anymore just sinfully feeling each other up and down. His face was in the crook of your neck and your hands were tangled in his long hair that you were slightly jealous of. He then pulled his head back and kissed you.

His lips were soft, and you could taste the alcohol on them. It was intoxicating. You pulled him closer to you and you heard him groan. Sober you wouldn't have done this. You didn't just kiss random strangers. However, the mix of alcohol and this man was doing things to you that sober you would most likely not regret.

"We don't gotta be in love no..."

***

You two were now in the bathroom and you were propped up on the sink with your head tilted slightly back as Geto ate you out. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt his tongue lick your clit fast then slow. The music was further away but you could still hear it, which added more to the experience.

"I love when you're submissive

love it when I break skin..."

He fucked you with his ring and middle finger while rotating his tongue in a circular motion around your clit, which you had you arching your back and whispery screaming his name repeatedly.

Geto lost self-control the moment his tongue licked your sex. You tasted so good, and he didn't want to remove himself from in between your legs ever. He made sure to keep one hand firmly on your thigh to keep you in place. Even when your thighs would occasionally squeeze his head too tightly, he wouldn't let up. Even when he felt himself losing oxygen, he still was determined to have you release on his tongue. And don't even get him started on your moans and the way his name rolled off your tongue. He was painfully hard right now and couldn't wait to be inside of you.

You felt a warm feeling spread from your lower region to your legs and you knew you were about to come. You began grinding your pussy on Geto's face and he moaned at the loss of your control. You were so sexy. Both of his hands were now gripping your thighs to keep you closer to his face. His dark eyes were staring deep into yours and just the sight the site of him in such a lewd position had you coming on his face.

It was like everything wasn't important, only you and Geto existed. You didn't hear anything else, but just his breathing and him telling you how you were perfect. When you came back to reality you were able to catch your breath and noticed Geto unzipping his pants. You could see his dick straining against his jeans. Just by his print you knew he was big, and your heart raced in anticipation. "He's gonna be the death of me." You thought to yourself.

"You good?" He asked while hovering over you. His hands were on your hips, and he was placing small pecks on your neck.

"Yeah." You breathed out feeling yourself getting turned on again.

Geto continued caressing your body and placing chaste kisses on the side of your neck, then nibbling at your ear. He slid his hands to your breast and massaged your nipples through your revealing top.

Geto wasn't the type to hook up with random girls, but something about you had him aching to have a taste. The man then grabbed you by your jaw and pulled you into another kiss. You two made out for a few minutes before you started grinding against him, trying to relieve that growing ache between your legs.

"Force me and choke me till I pass out..."

While still kissing you he pulled his dick out and rubbed your slit up and down using the mixture of your cum to lube him. You moaned in his mouth and arched your back, begging him to fill you.

Geto took his strokes slow at first giving you time to adjust to his size. Your clit was still sensitive so every time he brushed up against it, your legs tensed. He pulled you more towards the edge of the counter for a more accurate angle.

"This a secret that I keep

Until it's gone, I can never find peace..."

His strokes were slow at first, but he picked up the pace after a minute. Geto fucked you as if he wanted you to remember and that was his intention. When you're alone in your room, he hopes you remember this night and get off to it. Hell, he was going to remember it. Especially the way you were clenching around him, he had to find the will to not come right away. He was trying to enjoy the entire experience, but you were making it hard for him.

"Waste my whole life just to be.."

Your hands were under his shirt and you scratched at his back. It stung a bit, but Geto didn't mind if it meant that you were enjoying yourself. He already knew tomorrow he would see the scars. You felt that familiar warm feeling spread throughout your lower area, and you felt your body tense up then released. The feeling of your walls clenching around the man, had him finishing immediately after your orgasm.

Geto still continued to fuck you, but a little slower, wanting to stay inside your warmth. When he came to stop, the two of you were breathing hard and you chuckled a bit thinking bout the wild shit you just did, already thinking about telling your friend who was also probably getting fucked also.

You could hear the song slightly coming to an end in the background.

"We don't gotta be in love, no

I don't gotta be the one, no

I just wanna be one your girls tonight..."

Geto also chuckled with you. "Remind me to take you out after this."