#he’s distracted and this will get his attention?

[keeryhours]

do you wanna come over? - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

You’re one of the most beautiful and popular girls in Hawkins, and you’ve set your sights on Eddie Munson. Little do you know, he’s a virgin - and also pretty in love with you.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), protected p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), cum eating sort of, restraints, virgin!eddie, perv!eddie, drug use, getting walked in on

Word Count: 9.7k

A/N:

This is set up for a part 2, so let me know if you’d like to see that soon! Thank you @punkrockmlchael for my banner and for reading, and thank you @the-witty-pen-name , @fizzing-imagines , @losingmygrasponreality, @lesservillain!

Eddie Munson was your weed dealer and nothing more.

Well, occasionally shrooms. Or Special K. Basically, he was your dealer with no strings attached.

You weren’t even sure if you liked the guy. You didn’t know him. He was very…vocal from what you saw of him in the cafeteria, but he always came along with his small group of nerdy friends. You never saw him with a girl. Not once.

There was no way Eddie Munson was a virgin, right? The dude had done his senior year 3 times now, he was like 20 years old. You figured the girls at school probably just weren’t his taste anymore.

Why Eddie was on your mind so much lately was honestly beyond you. You had never thought of him much before, unless you needed some drugs for the weekend. But now it was like he was always on your mind. You even brought it up to your best friend, Chrissy, after practice.

“There’s just no way he’s a virgin, right?” You asked her as you moved into a split, feeling the muscles in your thighs stretching.

Chrissy giggled as she did the same. “Why are you so interested in Eddie Munson’s sex life all of a sudden?”

“I’m not,” you said quickly. “It just…doesn’t make sense. Have you ever seen him with a girl?”

“Of course not,” Chrissy said. “But who knows what he gets up to outside of school.”

Her words stuck with you. Because you wanted to know what Eddie got up to outside of school.

You found yourself fantasizing about it, dreaming about it. When Eddie first started making his appearances in your dreams, it shocked you. You had never been attracted to him until that night. You dreamt of him shirtless, tattoos exposed on his lithe body. He rolled a joint with his dexterous fingers and lit it, taking a long drag before handing it to you.

“Your turn, princess,” he’d said in a lower, much more suave voice than you’d ever actually heard from him. You grabbed for the joint but he held it out of your reach, bringing it back to his own lips and breathing deeply before leaning in and breathing the smoke out into your mouth. You had moaned against his lips, feeling his smirk against your own mouth.

He looked like a sex god. Sometimes he would grab his guitar and play you a song. Sometimes he would undress you and eat your pussy all night, other times he would make you worship his cock until he was satisfied and cumming all over your face. You especially liked it when he held you down and fucked you like your body begged to be fucked.

Then you’d wake up in a cold sweat, clit throbbing between your legs in a way that had you desperate to go back to sleep and let him finish you off. You’d have to face him at school again, just the usual nerdy guy you remembered.

You figured you had to make a move.

You approached him during lunch, short little green and yellow cheer skirt swaying as you crossed the room towards him. You caught his attention about halfway across the room and he did a double take, wide eyes landing on you as his friends turned to see what had distracted him.

“Hey, Eddie,” you greeted, a small smile on your lips.

“Uh, h-hey,” he said, smoothing a hand through his wild hair. It didn’t do much to tame the curls. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping maybe we could meet up after school?” You asked, your voice obviously flirtatious. One of his friends - Gareth? - raised his eyebrows at him, looking between the two of you with a barely contained smirk.

“Oh! Yeah, for sure,” he said. “The usual? In the woods behind the school?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. “See you later…Eddie.”

You made a point to sway your hips as you walked away, and you could feel Eddie’s and his friends’ eyes on you. Your ass, specifically. You knew what you had been blessed with, and you weren’t afraid to use it.

That day after school, you snuck off and headed down the familiar path through the wooded area. The leaves crunched beneath your white sneakers as you walked, the October chill making you pull your sweater tighter around your body. No one was at the meetup spot when you arrived, so you sat on top of the table, legs crossed as you waited.

It wasn’t long before the crunching of leaves gave away another presence. Eddie approached the table, eyes locked on your form. God, those legs in that little skirt. He thought about what it might be like to spread them, to breathe in your scent and bury his face between your thighs. He had frequent fantasies of stealing a pair of your panties during practice and bringing them home, bringing them up to his face and breathing deeply, wrapping them around his cock as he fisted it, spilling his cum all over the pretty material. He had no idea what your panties actually looked like, but surely they were as perfect as you.

He carried his metal lunchbox, stocked with weed. His gait was slow as he got closer to you, taking his sweet time to drink in your appearance until he’d had his fill. When he reached the table, he sat the lunch pail down on the wood with a bang.

“What can I get you today, m’lady?” He asked, a playful smile on his face as he performed an exaggerated bow. “A half for 20, perhaps?”

“I’ll take a half,” you said. “And..do you have any more of that Special K?

Eddie slowly looked up at you with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, back at the house. I’ll have to get it. I could bring it tomorrow.”

You shifted from your position, crossing the other leg, and Eddie just about combusted on the spot as he caught the slightest glimpse of your panties. Pink and lacy, exactly what he pictured you’d wear. It completely threw him off.

“Hello? Eddie?”

Your voice snapped Eddie back to reality. “Shit, sorry. What?”

“I said you could bring it tomorrow.” You smiled. “Or I could ride with you to get it then. I just can’t tonight because of practice…”

Eddie swallowed. You really wanted to ride with him back to his place? Alone? “Uh, okay, sure.”

You debated making your next move, wondering if it would be too far, but you went for it anyway. “So, Eddie…I was just wondering. Do you ever take any payment that’s not…money?”

Eddie furrowed his brows. “Like what? Sometimes my car guy does work for me in exchange for weed, but…” The look on your face told him that’s not what you’d been talking about. “Oh, jesus, no. You don’t have to do that. If you need me to spot you, I can-“

“But what if I want to?”

Eddie just stared at you. “You want to…?”

“Oh my god, Eddie.” You spread your legs, reaching for his waist and pulling him into you. Your hand dragged across his cock over his jeans, feeling him already hard and even bigger than you’d imagined. “Why don’t you just let me make you feel good?”

Eddie’s knees felt weak, his heart thundering in his chest as you pulled him close to you. This couldn’t be real, he had to be dreaming. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d had this exact dream before. His hands rested on your thighs to hold himself upright - god, your soft, bare thighs… He started to speak, stopping to clear his throat. “You really don’t have to do this-“

You squeezed his cock through the material, making him moan out loudly. “Does this show you how badly I want to do this?”

His voice cracked when he spoke. “I- yeah, I think I get the idea.” He looked around, like he was expecting someone to jump out from behind a tree and literally catch him with his pants down. “You’re- you’re fucking with me, right? This is all just a big joke?”

“Eddie, I would never do that,” you said earnestly. Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. “Have you really never done this before?”

“I-“ Eddie backed up, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “No, I haven’t, okay? I’m not like that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with-“

“No, I know,” he said quickly. “I just…I haven’t.”

“Why not?” you asked again. “Are you into girls? Because it’s okay if you’re not-“

“Yes, I’m into girls!” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face, like he was frustrated. “I haven’t…done things like that before.”

“You haven’t done things like this, or you haven’t done things at all?”

Eddie was quiet. Then, finally- “At all.”

You reached for him, your hand grazing his. He startled at the touch, the electricity that shot through his body at the smallest feeling. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin, Eddie. I just want to make you feel good.”

He looked back at you, letting you pull him close again. “Why?”

“I’ve been…thinking about you,” you admitted.

“Thinking about me?”

“Stop being so coy,” you teased him. “Do you not know how hot you are?”

Eddie shook his head. “No one thinks that.”

“I do.” You said it easily, quickly. “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. Thinking about all the things I want to do to you…all the things I want you to do to me…”

“Yeah?” He said, his voice low and breathless. “Like what?”

“Just thinkin’ about you, and what those long fingers can do,” you said, fingers trailing along his own. “About your mouth, your tongue.” You ran your hands down his chest. “About how big your cock is, how you’d use it…”

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat. He could barely breathe when you talked like that. “You…you think those things about me?”

“Of course I do.” You brought his fingers up to your lips, gently pressing them there as you smirked up at him. Your tongue darted out and licked his fingertips and he groaned just under his breath. “I think about you all the time.”

“Why have you never, uh,” he cleared his throat again. “Never said anything before?”

You shrugged, continuing to tease the older boy. “Guess I just got the nerve up.”

Eddie scoffed. “You’re like the hottest girl in school. Why would you ever be afraid to ask someone out? Especially me?”

“You think I’m the hottest girl in school?” You smirked, placing his finger in your mouth and sucking on it. His knees buckled, his cock impossibly hard in his jeans at this point.

Your hands roamed down his chest until you reached his belt buckle. You looked up at him for permission, his heavy lidded gaze glued to yours. He nodded once, and you undid the belt, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper down painstakingly slowly.

Eddie whimpered as you freed his cock, the massive, thick length catching you by surprise. Eddie reached for the table to hold himself up as you wrapped your fist around it, slowly stroking him.

“H-oh,” he breathed out, hips jerking forward into your touch. His tip leaked precum already, the head a deep red and cock achingly hard. He twitched in your hold, telling you he wanted, needed more.

“Why don’t you lean against the table?” You offered, sliding off and leaving the room for him to sit.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” he said, moving to take your spot. He leaned against the wood, his long legs stretching to the ground. You sunk to your knees in the dirt in front of him, stroking him as you stuck your tongue out to lick his tip. He groaned again, knuckles turning white where they gripped the edge of the table.

You wrapped your plush lips around his cock and began taking him deeper down your throat. He cried out at the feeling, one of his hands moving to hold onto the back of your head.

“Oh, shit,” he moaned, head tilting back but not wanting to miss any part of what you were doing. “Fuck. Yeah, that’s…that feels nice…”

You swirled your tongue around the vein on the underside of his cock, paying extra attention to the head when you’d come up. He was a moaning, writhing mess above you as he thrusted his hips into your mouth, and you were pretty sure they would hear him up at the school if he kept this up.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he whined, his chest heaving. “Shit, that’s so good.”

You brought a hand up to stroke the seam of his balls, and his stomach muscles clenched, his cock twitching in your mouth. You massaged them in your hand, and Eddie fell apart above you, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna- gonna c-um, shit shit shit-“

That was all the warning you got before Eddie was shooting ropes of his cum into your mouth, down your throat, as he moaned loudly. It surprised you a little and you gagged at first, but swallowed every drop he gave you. You pulled off of him with a pop and he watched the spit trail connecting your lips to his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed when you stood, dirt tracks on your neat white cheerleading socks and your bare knees. He awkwardly tucked himself back away as you brushed the dirt off your skin. “Um…thank you?”

You giggled. “No problem…Did you like it?”

“Did I-“ he huffed a laugh. “I mean, you made my dreams come true, baby. That was pretty fuckin’ awesome.”

“Yeah? Your dreams came true?” You teased as you leaned forward, rubbing his thighs over his jeans. His eyes shamelessly lingered on your body.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathed.

“I liked it, too,” you hummed. “Made me sooo wet.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Just from sucking me off?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “It was hot.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What, wanna see?” Eddie just watched you so you stood, turning around and bending over while lifting your tiny skirt over your ass. The small wet spot on your panties was visible from behind you, confirmed by the low groan Eddie let out.

“Christ,” he muttered.

“I feel bad I didn’t get to make you feel good,” Eddie said when you stood and returned to the table, sliding onto it next to him.

“Next time,” you promised him.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” He raised his eyebrows, like he expected this to be a one and done thing between you.

“Well, yeah,” you gently nudged his shoulder. “I don’t really just suck dick in the forest and move on with my life.”

Eddie laughed lightly. “That’s good for me then, I guess.” He snapped his fingers as a memory came back to him. “Oh! You’re coming to my place tomorrow? For the K?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Why, you got something planned?”

He smirked but just shrugged. “Nah. Nothing planned.”

“I’ll take the half, though.”

“Oh, yeah.” He reached into his pail and pulled the baggie out. “I’d feel bad charging you for this now, but I also feel bad not charging you for it.”

You laughed - “I mean, I won’t complain if you don’t want to charge me this time.”

“Then it’s on the house,” he smiled at you. “Thanks again, by the way.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you chuckled. “I wanted to. Believe me.” You stood from the table, shoving the baggie of weed into your bag. “I’ve got to get going…practice.”

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie seemed bummed to see you go, like he wanted to ask you to stay longer or tag along to watch you at practice. “You got extra, uh…socks?”

You looked down, sheepish grin on your face at the sight of the dirt. “Yeah. I do.” You turned as you began walking back to the school. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ed!”

“Bye!” He called after you, feeling like a total idiot.

Back in the school, you shed your bag in your practice locker and changed into a clean pair of cheer socks. By the time you joined Chrissy in the gym, she was giving you a knowing smirk.

“And where were you?” She asked innocently. She definitely clocked the remaining dirt on your knees.

“Just…doing some shopping.”

“With Eddie?”

You blushed. “Maybe.”

“Oh my god,” she giggled. “…Was he a virgin?”

You gave her a look. “Not for long.”

Chrissy practically squealed with laughter, falling over backwards. As the coach came over and started practice, you focused, getting your mind centered on practice and not a certain big-dicked virgin metalhead. But as you performed your tricks, tumbling down the mat and flying as your teammates tossed you into the air, your mind was locked on big brown eyes only.

The next day, you had plans to meet Eddie after practice and go to his place. You headed into the gym in your uniform with your bag over your shoulder, ready to focus on your stunts, but you nearly tripped over your own feet when you saw Eddie sitting in the bleachers.

No one watched cheerleading practice besides a couple of the girls’ boyfriends, so it was a shock to see him there. And you knew he was there for you. He gave you a small wave as your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help laughing.

You went on with practice, performing your back handsprings and tosses as a flyer. Eddie watched the entire time, his attention fully on you. His eyes followed you everywhere you went, amazed by the stunts you were able to pull off. Every now and then he caught the slightest glimpse of your panties beneath your skirt, and that was enough for him.

After practice, you lingered until all your teammates were gone. Eddie watched you curiously, wondering what you were up to. Finally when the last of your cheer teammates had left, you nodded towards the locker room, and Eddie’s eyes widened, but he jumped up to follow you anyway.

Eddie trailed after you into the locker room, watching the sway of your hips and ass as you walked. It was deserted, all of your fellow cheerleaders having already showered and left. You stripped out of your uniform right in front of Eddie, pulling your top off and leaving yourself bare chested. Eddie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head, your bare tits on full display for his eyes. You took off your skirt and panties next, throwing them on the bench.

“Let me go take a shower, then we can go.”

Eddie watched as you turned and left towards the shower. His gaze dropped to the pile of clothes on the bench - particularly the pink panties beneath your skirt. He thought about it - really thought about it, because he’s not that much of a creep - but he snatched them, stuffing them into his jeans pocket.

A few minutes later you came back wrapped in a towel with one wrapped around your hair as well. He watched you, amazed, as you grabbed some clean clothes from your locker. You dropped the towel right in front of him and his eyes took in every inch of your body as you pulled on your underwear then a pair of jeans and a shirt.

“Ready to go?” You asked. Eddie had to shake himself out of his lustful stupor to answer your question.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

You followed him out to the parking lot, duffel bag over your shoulder. He led you to his van, opening the passenger door with a bow. “Ladies first.”

You climbed in with a giggle, buckling your seatbelt as Eddie shut the door for you. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the van. You watched out the window and listened to Eddie’s heavy music as he drove to his trailer in Forest Hills.

“Welcome to my castle,” he said as he opened the front door of the trailer for you. You gave him a smile as you walked in, seeing the living room decorated with baseball caps, the kitchen littered with trash and dirty dishes. “Sorry, the maid took the week off,” Eddie said as he quickly cleaned up as much as he could. You didn’t mind.

“You can come back, if you want,” he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the bedroom at the end of the hall. “It’s a mess, but…”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you assured him.

You followed him into his room, taking a seat on his bed. He went searching through his stuff, finally surfacing with a baggie of powder clutched between his fingers. “Special K. Peaceful bliss, just moments away.”

You took it from him, passing him the money. You opened the baggie and collected some on your finger, bringing it to your nose to snort the powder. You held some out to Eddie, who snorted it off your finger as well.

A comfortable peace washed over your body quickly. You were feeling good as you laid back on the bed, the euphoria washing over you. Eddie laid on the bed next to you.

“This is some good shit,” you laughed. Eddie laughed, too, turning to you.

“You’re so hot, you know that?” He said, voice lowering as he looked over your body in his bed. “You are so fucking hot.”

You giggled. “You’re hot, too.”

“That’s not true,” he said, suddenly shy. “No one thinks that.”

“I do,” you said, your hand resting on the side of his face. “I think you’re so hot. And kind, and handsome, and funny and interesting.”

Eddie leaned closer to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, and he was so close now his nose was brushing yours.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he told you as his lips moved closer and closer to yours. “My little slut. You liked sucking my cock out in the woods behind the school, didn’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed against him, his lips now grazing yours, pressing together in a needy kiss. “Loved sucking your cock. So fucking big, so sexy.”

Eddie moaned as he kissed you, his hand roaming your body, up your shirt and over your breasts. “Can I taste you, princess?”

“Hmm?” You hummed the question, mind hazy from his kisses.

“Can I taste you?” He asked again, lips moving down to nip at your neck. “Wanna taste that pussy, princess. I know it’s so good, so fucking sweet and wet. Please let me have a taste.”

“Okay,” you agreed as his kisses trailed lower, his lips moving down over your breasts and stomach, to your thighs. He settled himself between your legs, kissing all over your thighs and over your core through your light purple panties. He could see the wet spot on them, it made his mouth water with his desire to taste you.

He slid your panties down your legs, your pussy finally revealed to him. It was everything he imagined, so fucking hot, and bare all for him. He dove in, tongue sliding through your folds to taste you. You moaned, hand gripping into his wild hair as he devoured you.

Eddie didn’t exactly know what he was doing, but he was eager and excited and that made it even better. He teased your clit with his tongue, wrapping his lips around it and sucking lightly. Then he moved lower, tongue teasing your hole as his nose brushed against your clit.

You moaned, hips bucking up against Eddie’s mouth. “Feels so good,” you moaned, hands trailing over your nipples as Eddie ate your pussy like a man starved.

He started grinding his hips against the bed as he ate you, searching for friction against his hard cock. He rutted frantically against the bed, tongue buried in you as his cock throbbed in his pants, moaning into you as he neared release himself. All from the thought of what he was doing to you, the reality of having his face buried in your cunt, his rock hard dick rubbing against the comforter.

“Eddie, I’m g’na cum,” you moaned desperately as Eddie worked his tongue over your core even more, fingers pulling at his brown locks.

“Cum for me baby, please,” he begged, fully losing himself between your legs, tongue working against your pussy somehow expertly as your release neared.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Eddie! Oh god, Eddie!” You cried out as you came, hips bucking against his mouth as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue. He kept thrusting against the bed, but hearing you moan his name as you pulled his hair and grinded against his mouth set him off and then he was moaning, cumming in his jeans as you came down beneath his tongue.

He let you ride out your orgasm and then he pulled back, cheeks bright red and a wet spot on his jeans from where he came.

“Did you…?” You asked, looking down at his lap.

“Uh…yeah,” he said shyly, knowing there was no getting out of this with a lie.

You giggled, but there was no judgement behind it. “That’s pretty hot, honestly,”

“It is?” He asked, still blushing furiously. “I didn’t mean to, I just-“

“Couldn’t help yourself?” You trailed a finger down his shoulder, over his chest. He shuddered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I just…can’t help myself when I’m around you.”

It was flattering. You loved that he was so weak for you. It made you feel powerful. “You’re so sexy, Eddie.”

He trembled beneath your touch.

That night, when Eddie was alone, he pulled your panties from his pocket. He wasn’t sure if you hadn’t noticed him take them, or if you just hadn’t cared. But he had them, and now he was bringing them up to his nose, breathing in your scent with a groan. He unbuttoned his pants and took his cock out, wrapping the panties around his shaft.

He thought of you. He thought about you wearing these panties during cheerleading practice, the way you’d do your jumps and spread your legs for anyone to see. The way you looked him in the eye just before you did your splits, like you wanted him watching specifically.

He began stroking his cock with the panties wrapped around his length, thinking of you. He thought about eating your pussy, the way you had come undone beneath his tongue. The way you had tasted.

He moaned your name, imagining you were in the room with him now. Imagining you were here riding his cock, tits bouncing as you bounced on him, taking every inch of his dick. Eddie stroked his cock faster, his release approaching faster and faster.

He came to the thought of his cock disappearing into your tight little pussy, the thought of finally fucking you. The way you’d be so desperate for it, legs spread wide as he sunk into your cunt, tits bouncing when he snapped his hips into you. It was enough to send ropes of cum shooting over his fist and all over the panties and his thighs and stomach.

Eddie was down bad for you.

It was a couple of days later when you approached Eddie at school again. His face lit up when he saw you, frantically making room at the lunch table and pushing Gareth out of the way.

“What the fuck?” Gareth asked as Eddie shoved him to the side, but his eyes went wide in understanding when he saw you approaching.

“Hey, Eds,” you greeted him, hand sliding around his shoulders in a way that gave him goosebumps. He looked up at you adoringly, big brown eyes full of something like love.

“Hey,” he greeted you back. “What’s up?”

You leaned over so you were closer to him, leaning over the table with your cleavage in your uniform top right in front of his face. “Do you have any shrooms?”

“S-shrooms?” Eddie asked like he’d never heard the word, too distracted by what was in front of him. “Oh, yeah. I do. At the house.”

“Could I ride with you after school to get them…?”

Eddie swallowed, completely lost in a trance, forgetting about his friends at the table watching this whole interaction. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Cool,” you smiled. “I’ll see you after school then?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie’s gaze was locked on you as you walked away, that little cheer skirt so short he could just barely catch a glimpse of-

“Munson!”

Eddie snapped out of his you trance to rejoin reality and his friends trying to catch his attention. “What?”

“What the hell is that all about?” Gareth asked. “She’s been talking to you a lot lately.”

Eddie blushed, looking down at his tray of food. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Jeff said. “Cheerleaders don’t just talk to us.”

“She just wants to buy some stuff. That’s all.”

The guys exchanged a look. “Soooo,” Gareth drew out the word, “are you gonna tell us who gave you all those hickies?”

Eddie froze, suddenly self conscious. He didn’t even realize they’d been noticeable. He pulled his leather jacket higher around his neck.

“Oh, come on, you can’t pretend we didn’t already see them,” Grant laughed. “Just tell us!”

Eddie looked around. “Okay, yes, it was her. But shut up! Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

The guys all buzzed with excitement, talking over each other as they leaned in closer to Eddie. “How the hell did that happen? What did you guys do? Tell us everything.”

Eddie shook his head. “Uh uh. No way. I’m not going to kiss and tell.”

“When I kissed Carla, you made me tell you everything!” Gareth protested. “Don’t be lame.”

“You kissed Carla Peters for 30 seconds in 7th grade,” Eddie reminded him. “I think we’re dealing with a difference in maturity level here.”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered. “I would tell you if I lost my virginity. It’s a momentous occasion.”

“I didn’t lose my virginity,” Eddie whispered. “…Yet.”

After school, Eddie watched your cheer practice again. The other girls took notice this time, giving you strange looks. You heard them whispering - “What is that Freak doing here? What a creep.” You felt kind of bad for subjecting him to the gossip of your teammates, but they all shut up when you left with your arm linked in his.

He led you to his van, opening the door for you once again. This time on the ride to his house you chatted, giggling at the jokes Eddie would make. He tried to give you a crash course on D&D, but it was all going over your head.

At the house he held the door open for you, and you slipped inside, taking a seat on his couch. “Um…I know I have those shrooms somewhere…give me a sec.”

You looked all around the living room as Eddie took off to his bedroom, searching through drawers and cabinets. You examined the wall of hats, all the different places they came from and things they represented. By the time Eddie came back with the baggie in his hand, you had just looked at the last one.

“Got ‘em,” Eddie said, handing you the bag. You slipped it into your purse. “Uh…do you want to stay and hang out?”

“Of course,” you smiled at him, watching as he sat down on the couch. You slowly walked over next to him, his eyes on the way your legs moved beneath your skirt. He sure was weak for the uniform, you noticed.

You stood in front of him, looking down at his nervous form. He looked up at you with wide eyes, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands as you stood over him.

You trailed your hands down his arms, reaching his hands and placing them on your hips. He gulped, like he was in shock. But his grip tightened on your hips, feeling the material of your cheer skirt under his hands, wanting to push it up and-

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Eddie accidentally let out a low groan, betraying just how far gone he was for you already. You could feel how hard he was, the bulge through his jeans pressing up against your core. You wanted him, so wet your panties were soaked. You needed him.

“Eddie,” you whined, moving your hips against him. He groaned again, grip tightening even more.

“You look so fucking hot,” Eddie said through a clenched jaw, like he was trying to hold himself together. “You’re…a fucking dream, Jesus Christ-“

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, biting gently and making Eddie groan again. His hands were holding onto you as tight as possible, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“You can touch me,” you said, wanting him to. You wanted to feel his hands all over, wanted to feel him. Every part of him.

He let go of his death grip on your hips and slowly roamed down your thighs as you continued kissing his neck, feeling the bare skin of your legs. He remembered what it was like to taste you, and the thought only made him harder in his jeans. He wanted to do it again and again.

Next his hands moved up, slowly feeling your sides until he reached your tits. They filled his hands perfectly, making him moan as he massaged them. He was desperate to get his mouth on them, to wrap his lips around your nipples, to suck on them.

He reached down and pulled your cheer top up until he was dropping it on his living room floor. He fumbled with your bra clasp for a while before he was able to remove that, too. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of your naked tits, mouth watering. He dove in, wrapping his lips around your nipple and making you gasp.

“Eddie,” you moaned, pleasantly surprised at his boldness. He was learning fast.

“So fucking sexy,” he moaned as his tongue swirled around your nipple, the sensation sending chills through your body. “Can’t believe you’re on my lap right now. Pretty little princess has a thing for the Freak, huh?”

You giggled lightly, eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of Eddie’s mouth. “When the Freak is this hot…”

Eddie chuckled. His hands gripped your ass as he switched to the other breast. He guided your hips to grind against him, as if it was possible for him to get any harder than he already was. He’d never been this hard in his life.

You tugged on his shirt and he got the hint, leaning forward to pull it off. Your hands roamed his tattooed chest, feeling the muscles of his chest, the soft skin of his stomach.

“Do you want to take me to your room?” you asked him, your voice a mere whisper against his lips.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Eddie said, then you were squealing as he stood, lifting you up. He stumbled a little and you laughed, but he made his way down the hall to his bedroom, leaving the discarded clothes on the living room floor.

He carefully dropped you down onto his messy bed, landing with a giggle. He kicked his shoes off and quickly undid his belt. You watched as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his legs. You could really see the size of his erection with nothing but his boxers on, and it was just as impressive as you remembered.

Next he slid your shoes off, leaving the white cheer socks in place. He slowly climbed up your body, pulling your skirt and panties down your legs. With you now fully naked, he looked at you wide eyed. “God, I can’t believe I’m about to fuck you.”

“Can’t believe you’re about to fuck me, or can’t believe you’re about to lose your virginity?” you teased with a laugh.

“Both,” Eddie smiled. He placed kisses all over your skin, his tongue darting out to taste every now and then. You were like a drug - he was utterly addicted to you already.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him as he reached your lips again, kissing along your jaw and cheek before pressing his lips to yours.

“Uh, I do, actually,” he said sheepishly. “Gareth bought them for me as a joke. Now I guess joke’s on him, because they’re getting used well before he gets to touch a girl.”

You laughed at that - “Well, works out for us, I guess.”

Eddie reached over into the drawer of his bedside table, pulling the unopened box out. He felt a sense of pride as he opened it, pulling out one of the foil packets. This was really happening. He had a pretty girl naked in his bed. Finally.

You pushed his boxers down as he ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth, sliding the rubber onto his cock just like he’d learned in health class. He was grateful Gareth got the biggest size as part of the joke - but it fit perfectly. Ha.

Eddie leaned over you with one arm by your head and the other between your bodies, pumping his cock a couple times as he lined it up at your entrance. He took a deep breath he hoped you didn’t notice, then he started pushing inside. You gasped at the intrusion, fingers gripping his bedsheets.

“Jesus, Ed,” you breathed, his cock nearly taking your breath away already.

“What?” he asked, stopping his movements. “Are you okay? Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no,” you assured him. “You’re just fucking huge. But keep going, please.”

His ego properly stroked, he began sinking further into you. He was barely holding it together, a whimper involuntarily escaping from his lips. You were so unbelievably tight, hot, and wet…it felt better than his fist had on his best nights, and watching your face contorting in pleasure every inch he sunk into you was unreal. He had to shut his eyes to keep from cumming right that second.

He bottomed out, and you had never felt so full in your life. None of the guys you’d been with had been this big. Eddie reached down and spread your legs wide, holding them open as he pulled his hips back and snapped them back into you. He fucked into you quickly, filling you completely with every thrust.

“God, you- you’re so flexible, fuck-“

His pleasure-drunk rambling would have made you laugh if he wasn’t currently splitting you wide open with his cock, and looking unbelievably sexy while doing it. He threw his head back, long hair flying backwards. You raked your nails down his chest, making him moan loudly.

“Feels so good, Eddie, fuck, even better than my dreams-“

“You dream about me?” Eddie huffed a breathless laugh. “Fuck, princess, I dream about you too.”

You smiled and opened your mouth to speak just before a particularly hard thrust hit your bundle of nerves perfectly, making your back arch off his bed and the words on your tongue turn into a loud, high moan.

Fuck, the noises you were making were better than any porn he’d ever seen. He didn’t know how he was still going, he’d felt right on the edge since he got inside of you.

“Your pussy is fucking incredible, holy shit-“

Eddie’s hips stuttered into you, his rhythm faltering. He adjusted you into a mating press, fucking you wildly as the most pathetic yet sexy moans left his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” you moaned, gripping onto his arms tightly. They were firmer and bigger than you expected, and you could feel his muscles contracting as he put all his effort into fucking you.

“I’m getting real close, baby,” he said, his voice strained. His arms were starting to tremble, his thrusts more frantic and needy. “But I need you to come first.”

You reached down between your sweaty bodies and rubbed circles on your clit, your body writhing beneath him. Eddie let out another pathetic moan at the sight, his rhythm faltering once again, his thrusts getting harder yet slower, hips snapping into you aggressively.

“Ohmygod, Eddie, Eddie, fuck! Yes yes yes, keep fucking me just like that-“

Your orgasm washed over you in a wave, hips grinding up against Eddie’s thrusts as you continued rubbing your clit. Your other hand pinched at your nipples, and the show sent Eddie reeling.

“I’m cumming, oh fuck, I’m…I-I love you! Shit-” Eddie cried out as he came, his eyes squeezing shut as his cum shot into you, filling you up with his spend. He held onto you tightly as he came, it felt endless, like he could cum forever. His body was trembling, hands shaking from their grip on your legs.

Your mouth dropped open in shock at his words, but Eddie didn’t process it until he came down from his high, breathing heavily on top of you.

“Oh, shit-“ Eddie said, sitting up and looking at you with a horrified expression. “I did not mean to say that, I don’t-“

You just stared at him, and then you burst out laughing. Eddie blushed a deep red as you laughed, but eventually he joined in. The two of you giggled together, you leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Eds. I’m not upset.” You held his hand, intertwining your fingers. “It’s a little early for that, but I like the sentiment.”

Eddie laughed. “I don’t know why I said that. It just came out.”

“The sex was that good?” you teased.

“Oh yeah.”

The next day at school, you stuck close by Eddie. You had decided to try dating, and you were unbelievably happy. You walked hand in hand, drawing the attention of absolutely every Hawkins High student. Chrissy’s jaw dropped when she saw the two of you, but then she gave you a bright smile - you knew she’d be in your corner no matter what.

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You had never felt so obsessed with a guy before, but you were head over heels for Eddie, and you didn’t care who knew or what anyone thought.

At lunch, you got your food and headed for the Hellfire table. You took a seat right next to Eddie, sharing the end of the table. Eddie beamed, putting his arm around you and pulling you into a kiss that was far too heated for the school cafeteria. His tongue slipped into your mouth, pressing against yours as he kissed you passionately.

The guys stared. Gareth looked at the others - “What the fuck?” he mouthed. Jeff just looked at him wide eyed, while Grant looked impressed. Mike and Dustin looked at each other, shocked.

When you finally pulled apart, you realized you had an audience. “Hi! I’m so sorry.”

Eddie didn’t look sorry at all. He looked happier than the guys had ever seen him. “Guys, this is my girlfriend,” he said with pride, introducing you by name.

The guys thought this had to be a joke. There’s no way you and Eddie had really hooked up, and there was no way you were together now. It made no sense. Yet here you were, all over each other like no one was watching.

You and Eddie shared your lunches with each other as you ate, the sickeningly sweet display holding the attention of every guy at the table.

No one said anything for a while, and you and Eddie were so caught up in your own little world, neither of you noticed. Finally, you got up to go get some napkins, and Gareth took his chance. He cleared his throat, and Eddie looked over at his best friend with a confused expression.

“Care to explain?” Gareth asked, the rest of the table watching on with interest.

“Explain what…?” Eddie asked, genuinely lost.

Gareth did a dramatic gesture towards you. “That.”

“What’s there to explain?” Eddie played with a piece of his food before popping it into his mouth. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Since when?” Gareth asked. “What the fuck has been going on?”

Eddie looked at your figure from across the cafeteria before turning back to his friends. “Since last night. She came over and we…had a nice night, and I asked her to be my girlfriend.”

“Did you lose your virginity?” Grant asked, the only one of the group who seemed excited for his friend.

Eddie glanced at Mike and Dustin, who were lost in their own conversation now. He nodded, and Grant held out a hand for a high five, which Eddie sheepishly accepted.

“Did she buy from you?” Gareth asked.

“Yeah…why?”

Gareth looked around again before he spoke. “I just…you don’t think she’s only messing around with you for the drugs, right? Cheerleaders don’t talk to us, they definitely don’t sleep with us.”

His words set a fire in Eddie, making him absolutely furious. “What did you just say about her?”

Gareth had never seen Eddie so angry, like flames flickering behind his deep brown eyes. ”Nothing, man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You came back to the table then, all smiles and totally oblivious to the tension at the table. “I got you some too, baby,” you said softly to Eddie, handing him a couple of napkins. Eddie gave Gareth another harsh look, but moved on.

When you’d finished eating, Eddie kissed you again, before leaning his forehead against yours. “Wanna get out of here, baby?”

You giggled. “Where to?”

“My van?” he proposed, voice low and seductive yet still fully audible to the rest of the table. Gareth pretended to gag.

“Sounds good,” you agreed with a mischievous smile, standing along with Eddie. He grabbed your hand as the two of you rushed from the building, leaving Eddie’s friends dumbfounded. Chrissy gave you a smile as you left, but her boyfriend, Jason, scowled and whispered something to his friends.

In the parking lot, Eddie opened his van, letting you climb inside before he joined you. In the back you immediately met in a heated kiss, pulling at each other’s clothes and touching each other everywhere.

You pushed Eddie’s jacket off before tugging at his shirt, smirking when he quickly pulled it over his head. He pulled your panties off, leaving your cheer skirt on. He quickly undid his belt and jeans and pushed them down just enough to free his cock.

“Turn over for me, baby,” he said, pumping his cock in his fist. “Want that cute little ass in the air, ready for me.”

You did as Eddie said, moving onto your hands and knees before lowering your upper half to the floor of the van. Eddie groaned at the sight, hands rubbing over the skin of your ass beneath your skirt. He hiked the skirt up around your hips, leaving you exposed to him.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him.

Eddie froze. “Shit. No, I didn’t bring one.”

You thought for a moment. “It’s okay. I want you anyway.”

Eddie’s grip on your hips tightened. “Are you sure, princess?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice assured. “I want it, Eds. I don’t care if you don’t have one, I need you in me.”

Eddie groaned, pressing his hard cock against you. He thrusted his hips lightly, grinding himself against your ass. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, princess. You’re fucking unreal.”

You felt him press against your pussy, sliding between your folds and collecting your wetness on his cock. The feeling was like heaven for him, the memories of being inside you came rushing back, making his dick throb. He had to have you again. And this time he’d get to feel you raw? The thought alone had his knees weak.

He pushed the head of his cock inside you, the stretch already too good. You both moaned as he filled you, inch by thick inch. When he bottomed out he wasted no time thrusting into you again and again, a quick pace rocking the van right there in the school parking lot for anyone who came outside to see.

The old van squeaked as it rocked back and forth with the power of Eddie’s frantic thrusting, the windows fogged up from the heat you two created together. He used his grip on your hips to pull your body back into him every time he thrusted into you, making them all the more intense.

He reached forward and pulled on your ponytail, jerking your head back and making you moan. “Eddie!”

“Oh fuck, you like that, baby? You want me to be a little rough?”

“Yes, fuck,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he thoroughly pounded you from the back. When he suddenly pulled out you whimpered at the loss, but he quickly flipped you over.

Eddie sat up on his knees, throwing his shirt off before he pulled the handcuffs off his belt. Your eyes widened as he looped them through the bottom of the driver’s seat and attached them to your wrists, pinning them above your head.

The way your body stretched with your arms up like that was a sight to behold. It put your tits on full display, his hands grabbing for them the second he started fucking into you again. The angle he had your hips with him up on his knees was intoxicating, his cock hitting your bundle of nerves with every thrust.

“Please, Eddie, harder,” you begged, your voice a whiney moan. Eddie obliged immediately, the slapping noise of your skin meeting filling the space.

“Fuck, look so pretty like this, princess,” he huffed, out of breath from his vigorous movements and the heat you were creating in the stuffy van. “Never thought you’d be tied up in the back of the freak’s van, taking his cock and begging for more, huh?”

No, you didn’t. You were just as surprised as anyone at your current situation.

“You’re so good, too,” Eddie moaned. “Your pussy is so perfect. Fits my cock just right. I’m so deep in you, baby, fuck!”

Eddie was struggling to hold it together, the feeling of you wrapped around him without the barrier of the condom was almost too much to bear. He spread your legs wide and leaned over you, burying his face in your neck.

He whimpered into your neck as he fucked you, his shallow thrusts quick and desperate. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to his sweaty body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him even closer. It was so intimate, and Eddie was losing it.

He cried out as his orgasm hit him unexpectedly, hips rutting against you as he pumped all his cum inside, balls tightening, giving you everything he had. He moaned your name again and again, shuddering on top of you.

As he came down and pulled out of you, freeing you from the handcuffs, he realized you didn’t get to finish. “Oh, shit, baby. I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you-“

“Eddie, it’s really okay,” you giggled, not upset at all. “I still enjoyed myself. I don’t have to- oh!”

Eddie cut you off by diving between your legs, his tongue licking between your folds. He could taste himself where his cum leaked out of you, but he didn’t mind. You had never experienced anything like this before.

You moaned, writhing beneath his tongue, pulling on his long, soft hair. He devoured you, tongue moving up to flick over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. His tongue was so long and so talented, he’d never done anything with a girl before you and you knew this, but you would never have guessed by the way he ate pussy.

Eddie moaned against you, slipping two of his fingers inside as his mouth focused on your clit. He pumped them in and out of you much like he’d fucked you, and it wasn’t long before you were clenching around his fingers, moaning little “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”s as you got closer and closer.

You came on his tongue, pulling hard on his curls and nearly screaming his name. If anyone was out in the parking lot, they’d know exactly what you were doing and who was doing it to you.

Eddie kept his movements up until you were pushing him away, overstimulated. He moved back up your body and kissed you hard, both of you smiling against each others’ lips.

Eddie tucked his spent cock away back in his jeans and collapsed against the wall of the van, still shirtless. You pulled your panties back on, straightening your uniform. “Do you wanna smoke?”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed easily, reaching into the front and pulling out an already rolled joint. He sparked it up with his lighter and took a drag, passing it to you.

As you smoked together, laughing and talking, Eddie felt like he was completely in love. But in the back of his head, Gareth’s words stuck with him, nagging. He didn’t really think you were only with him for the drugs, he was pretty sure you felt the same way about him as he did about you. Yet something about it wouldn’t leave him alone.

After practice and dressed comfortably in a t-shirt and soft short shorts, you walked to Eddie’s van with his arm around you. Your teammates gave you strange looks, but you didn’t care. You were happy.

“Hey!” You heard Chrissy’s voice calling your name as you were just leaving the building. You and Eddie both turned.

“Hey,” you greeted her with a smile. “What’s up?”

Chrissy looked awkward, uncomfortable. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure.” You looked up at Eddie and he smiled at you, bending down and placing a kiss to your lips. “Be right back.”

You followed Chrissy back into the locker room, which was deserted. Chrissy sighed, pacing back and forth.

“What’s up, Chris?” you asked, worried.

“It’s just…” She fiddled with her fingers. her nerves obvious. Like she was doing something she didn’t want to be doing. “Jason doesn’t like that you’re seeing Eddie.”

You blinked at her. Then, a laugh. “Chris, I love you to death, but I don’t really give a fuck what your boyfriend thinks.”

She winced, like she knew that was exactly what you were going to say. “Yeah, but…” She sighed again. “Jason thinks that it ruins the image of the cheer team. He thinks as long as you’re dating Eddie, you shouldn’t cheer. And he got the coach to agree.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your heart beat loud in your ears, your hands starting to shake. “What?”

Chrissy looked pained. “I know. I tried to talk to him-“

“Why does Jason Carver have any say over who’s on the cheerleading team?” you asked, getting worked up. “This is bullshit. I’m team captain! And what’s wrong with Eddie? Besides that he’s a little different?” You scoffed. “You guys are so close minded it’s sickening.”

Chrissy looked as if you’d struck her. “It’s not me, I promise. I tried. But everyone else agreed.”

You felt sick to your stomach. You hadn’t felt as happy as you do with Eddie in…well, ever. You couldn’t choose between two things you loved.

Loved?

“I’ve got to go,” you said, shaking your head. “Maybe try to talk to your boyfriend again. Because mine hasn’t done anything wrong.”

You turned and left, catching up with Eddie. He wrapped his arm around you again with a smile, but he could tell something was wrong. “What happened, baby?”

“Nothing,” you said. You didn’t want to talk about it or make Eddie feel bad. And you were sure it wouldn’t really happen - right?

At Eddie’s trailer, it looked like he had cleaned up for you. He seemed nervous, even as you fell to the couch with lips locked together in a passionate make out session. His hand was under your shirt, grasping at your tits.

“Need you again,” he mumbled hurriedly as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Need to be inside you.”

“You sure no one will be home?” you asked, giggling as he leaned forward and kissed at your tits.

“Yeah. My uncle’s at work, we’re fine.”

He pulled your shorts and panties down before shoving his own jeans and boxers down. He spread your legs wide, neither of you caring about a condom this time. He sunk into you, snapping his hips into you wildly. He was desperate for you, no matter how many times he had you.

He groaned loudly, face in your neck again while he pounded into you. Your nails scratched down his shoulders, eyes rolling back at the bliss he was providing with nothing but his cock.

You were so caught up in each other that neither of you heard the key in the front door, or the door opening. However you did hear the shocked gasp that had Eddie pulling out of you in a hurry, covering your body with a throw pillow and yanking his jeans up.

“Jesus, Ed!” the older man exclaimed, covering his eyes. “On the couch??”

“Sorry, shit, sorry! What are you doing here?” Eddie buckled his jeans back up as you hurriedly redressed yourself. “I thought you’d be gone all night!”

“Forgot my lunch,” the man said, his voice gruff. “‘n just because I work nights doesn’t mean you can…do that in the living room, for god’s sake, Ed.”

“Sorry,” Eddie said again, his cheeks bright red. “You can uncover your eyes, we’re okay.”

The man cautiously lowered his hand, looking at the two of you. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend.”

Eddie chuckled. “It’s new. Baby, this is my Uncle Wayne. Wayne, this is my girlfriend.” He introduced you by name, and Wayne gave you a friendly smile.

“Well, strange way to meet one another, but glad to meet you,” Wayne said.

“You too,” was all you could offer.

When Wayne grabbed his lunch and left again, you slapped Eddie on the arm. “You said you knew we’d be alone!”

Eddie laughed, dodging you. “How was I supposed to know he’d forget his lunch and come back?”

You supposed he had a point. You couldn’t stay mad at him - not that you really were to begin with. You cared deeply about Eddie, and you wanted to be with him. You just hoped that wouldn’t keep you from being on the cheer team.

part 2?

[clovermoters]

the parenting sacrifices - dad!lando x wife!reader

summary - while your out on girls night, lando stays home with your sick daughter

warnings - none! just some fluff and kisses, no use of y/n

authors note - i actually wanna make this a little universe so send me some ideas for dad!lando because i adore him!! as always big thank u too @landopoet for reading this over and hyping me up!! love ya big time!! anyways i’ll stop talking and pls enjoy the fic !

“Are you sure you're going to be okay?”

Lando was lightly pushing you towards the door, you were dressed in a short black dress that had Lando seeing stars. Ever since the birth of your daughter, lando has forced you to take a mandated night out with your girlfriends once a month as a break from your motherly duties.

Tonight was one of those nights.

“Yes, Josie and I are going to be just fine, go have your fun.” Lando assures you.

Your three year old daughter has caught the viral head cold that's been circling her daycare. Carlos had warned Lando that his son, Mateo had recently gotten the same bug, since the two toddlers have been in daycare together since they were in diapers.

Lando helps you with your heels and pushes your leather clutch into your hands. He gives you a light peck on the lips “go, have fun, we will be okay.” you melt slightly into his lips before you spin around making your way out the door to meet your girls parked downstairs.

Truthly lando was slightly nervous to be alone with Josie since he’s never been on his own when she was sick. He waltzes into the living room to find his daughter, dressed in her formula 1 jammies that McLaren gifted your family for her third birthday. She had Cars, her favourite movie, playing on the tv while he was bundled underneath a mountain of blankets. Battling a fever and stuffy nose.

Lando ‘rounds the couch, plopping himself down next to his daughter. Josie immediately snuggles into Lando's arms, not taking her eyes off the super agent race cars on the flatscreen in front of her.

“You hungry missy?” Lando asks, “Mama's gone for tonight so it's just you ‘n me.” Lando looks down into an identical set of eyes and a replica head of his own curls. When Josie was born, you were over the moon to find out your daughter had the same eyes you fell in love with. As she got older and her hair grew into a messy head of curls, you were ecstatic.

Josie weakly nods and Lando presses a kiss to her forehead. Before going to the kitchen to heat up some pasta.

Once the movie had finished, and Josie's belly was filled with Landos delicious pasta, your mothers recipe. Lando had decided that an early bedtime is what Josie needs to beat her sickness. Running her a bath to try and keep her fever to a minimum. the girl giggled at her father making funny faces while washing her hair.

Once Josie was clean and in a fresh set of pajamas, Lando read her favourite story and gave her medicine to help her sleep with her cold. Giving a kiss goodnight before making his way to his room, heading in to wait for your return home..

.ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･

Lando was in bed watching a cheesy movie you’d told him he would enjoy. He was hardly paying attention, distracted by an instagram reel Carlos had sent him. since Mateo had come down with the same sickness as Josie, the fathers have been in contact swapping tips while their wives are out with each other, probably discussing how their husbands are getting on with the sick toddlers on their own.

Lando senses the light patter of feet making their way towards his door, he tosses his phone onto the sheets, making his way to the door, finding his daughter sleepy-eyed, holding her blankie sniffling. her eyes were red rimmed with tears.

“Daddy” is all she whines out, lifting her arms mumbling a quiet “..‘uppie” . Landos heart squeezes at his daughter's pain, scooping her up, Lando presses a kiss to her temple, her forehead hot to touch, “Aw josie, still not feeling good baby?”

The three year old pushes her face into Landos shoulder, he cringes slightly as the snot rubs into his skin. He hates when Josie is sick, especially when you aren't here to help, he knows he is capable of taking care of Josie, he also knows Josie needs her mom to lie on top of.

“It hurts” she cries when Lando places her onto the bed, switching the movie he had on, to cars

The sacrifices of parenting

Lando let Josie use him as a personal pillow, the girl sprawled out on his bare chest while she picked away at the popsicle she sweet talked her way into getting.

Lando routinely checked in on Josie's temperature, her fever remained stubbornly high resulting in a cranky three year old.

While Josie's eyes were fixed on the tv, Lando snuck a picture of your daughter snuggled to your husband's bare chest, just like when she was a newborn, sending you the picture with a quick update. you giggle reading the contact lando had set himself years ago.

[attached image]

most smexy husband EVAHHH: her fever won’t break, but we’ve got cars on and popsicle running through her veins!! see u soon xx

you aww’d at the photo tilting the screen to show rebecca who was sat next to you in the booth.

“Stop it, Carlos sent me the same thing an hour ago! Look what I did!” she gasped, you giggled at the girl while she pulled out her phone, turning it on to show you her wallpaper. an almost identical photo of Carlos and Mateo shined from the device.

you pouted at the sweet picture, finding it funny how your race car driver husbands, who this time in their twenties would be in a club partying together, are now at home nursing their sick toddlers.

Hearting the picture and sending a quick reply to your husband. after quickly copying Rebecca and setting the picture as your lock screen, you continue your conversation with the girls around the table.

you: aww, my loves! Almost done here and i'll be on my way,

Lando had smiled at your reply, Josie still tucked in his chest. Her blinks became slower as lightning mcqueen crossed the finish line. Lando rubbing the girls back while he breathing evened out.

Lando turned off the TV, pulling the sheets over Josie letting sleep take over, small breaths fanning across his chest as Lando held his daughter while she slept, smiling softly at her peaceful state.

You quietly entered the house, you were met with dim lights that Lando purposefully left on for you. Your home was silent apart from the light hum from the air conditioning unit, you slipped your heels off. Carrying them upstairs before lightly pushing the door to the master bedroom open.

Your heart melted at the sight of your favourite people sound asleep in your bed. Lando had one hand protectively around your daughters back while she slept peacefully next to him. You quietly readied yourself for bed, puttering around your room careful not to disturb the two sleeping.

You changed into sleep shorts and one of Landos shirts, slipping into bed next to your family. Once you were under the covers, lando stirred slightly at the dip in the bed.

“Heyy..” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. He reaches out to place a soft kiss on your forehead as you move Josie to rest in between you two. The girl tosses at the adjustment but lets out a big sigh as she gets comfortable again, her sleep undisturbed.

You and Lando giggle at her dramatics “that's all you” you joke before turning to place a quick peck to his jaw.

Lando smiles, reaching an arm around your waist as you let sleep pull you under. Lando thinks he wouldn't want to spend his nights any other way than right here, surrounded by his wife and daughter in the home they’ve filled with love, surrounded by the quiet nightlife of Monaco.

It doesn't matter what chaos tomorrow will bring, lando will always enjoy the quiet moments like these the most.

ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･

ok anyways sorry that this is BAD but thank u oh so much for reading <3 see u soon!

[this-resident-is-evil]

Mountain Laurel

Note: I’ve been seeing some people wishing there was more lore accurate Leon, you know the guy who is awkward with women. So… I thought which role is the best fit for him other than the hades the Greek god of the underworld himself. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Hades Leon S. Kennedy x Persephone fem reader

Synopsis: You are Persephone one of Zeus’s many daughters and one of the younger goddesses. Your power to grow flowers and them appearing in your hair usually matches your emotional state. Life seems bleak and difficult, until you become the new queen of the underworld.

Contains: Incestual relationships (You know how the Greek gods are), Hinting at nonconsensual intercourse (not from Leon), passionate sex, hand job (m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, breeding kink (kind of?)

Warning: Minors do not interact.

Leon made his way through the marble building. The ancient Greek gods have accumulated amongst the humans for a long time now and seemed to be respected by the mortals. He stood in front the chambers where he would usually find his brother cheating on his wife with mortal sex workers.

He always felt awkward walking in on him and desperately tried to convince his brother to meet him dressed for once. But he was no king of Olympus and had no place ordering his brother around. Zeus was a stubborn fellow after all.

He knocks on the door hoping that the naked bodies of women wouldn’t greet him the moment he opened the door or was allowed the entrance.

“Come in.” A deep rumbling voice was heard from the other side of the large door and he opened it.

Of course, Zeus was sprawled in the middle of a large bed, his back against the headboard. Four women were tucked into his large frame luckily covered but considering the importance of the meeting he assumed Zeus would kick them out.

“Hades. We were meeting today?” Zeus chuckles.

“It’s Leon, brother.” He speaks up.

“You are not insisting on still keeping your alias?” Zeus mocked with a belly rumbling laugh. “Fine, fine, Leon…” He sighs. “What do you need?”

Leon swallowed a lump forming in his throat. He felt odd talking about this very topic in front of women he has never seen, who were also most defiantly naked beneath the silk sheets.

“I need a wife. The underworld is getting tedious to rule on my own.” He spoke up and Zeus’s expression shifts to a more serious one.

“You are free to go.” He spoke to the women.

While three of them tried to coax him into letting them stay a bit longer or praising his performance there was one that caught Leon’s eye. A woman who was quick to leave the bed and attempted to appear small and insignificant.

It was you. Bare as the day you were born rushing to find clothing to cover your bare body with and you were gone. He noticed your hair filled with Mountain Laurel’s a poisonous flower one even dropped at Leon’s feet as you were making record time in leaving the room.

He bent down to pick it up and take a better look at the flower. The mostly white petals with hints of pink felt soft to the touch. He wasn’t big on flowers but this one caught his attention when Demiter was yapping away about her daughter’s capabilities.

Luckily the said flower distracted him from accidentally making eye contact with the naked women leaving Zeus’s bed.

“So, a wife.” Zeus spoke up the moment the door closed behind the women. He stood up in all his naked glory pulling a silk robe over his shoulders. “You have anyone in mind?”

Leon pocketed the flower as he turned his attention towards his brother. “What about the young lady who left first?”

Zeus’s thick brows furrow at the mention. “Persephone?” He questions and Leon nods. “Brother, you can’t be serious.” He mocked.

“I’m serious.” Leon spoke firmly.

“She is used goods. I will find you a virgin goddess.” He waved it off.

“I’d prefer not to wed a virgin goddess.” Leon spoke up firmly.

Zeus chuckled. “What does it matter? It is not as if you can bear a child.”

This struck a nerve with the king of the underworld. He straightened his posture stating that he was firm in his request. Zeus’s look softened at the sight of his brother.

“Very well then.” He spoke in the end. “You can take her right now.”

It was disgusting. Treating her like a cow someone could just take away and not caring in the slightest. Persephone was his daughter… but this was Zeus. A man with too many children to count both gods and goddesses as well as half mortals. He had a different women warm his bed while his lovely wife was busy organizing banquets and family gatherings.

Zeus gave Leon a general direction where to go to speak to Persephone and he was quick on his feet to formally and officially meet his new wife. It felt wrong to him to just come up to her bedroom and say ‘hi there pack your stuff you are marrying me’. But how else could he put it? He struggled with many different approaches until he finally made it to her door.

A soft knock and a short wait later there you stood. Leon was smitten. All his speeches and offerings evaporating from his mind the moment his eyes landed on you. You looked tired and even broken most likely from all the hardships Zeus put you through.

“Can I help you?” You spoke up breaking Leon’s trance making him blink rapidly.

“I um… How do I put it…” He stumbles through his words your kind eyes making his mind run blank. “Are you alright?” Is the first thing that leaves his mouth after a longer pause.

This question caught you off guard. Before you, stood the Hades, the god of the dead and the king of the underworld and he was checking in if you were, okay?

“Yeah…” You lie through your teeth as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and another Mountain Laurel drops from your locks onto the ground.

“Please don’t lie.” He speaks and your eyes widen. Was he really the scary god you have heard rumors about?

You bite down on your lower lip and sigh. “No. I’m not.” You speak your voice breaking in the moment.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He almost stammers through the question but manages to keep his voice and tone even.

“I’m sorry, what?” You question.

“Do you want to get away from him? He won’t touch you again, you will stay in a safe place, far, far away from here.” He began explaining.

Your expression is taken over by shock and you were wary of his offer. He could just replace your current abuser and be even worse. However, there was just something about him. He was nervous, cautious and awkward as if he didn’t know how to best offer his aid to a person in clear need of some help.

“Yes.” Escapes your mouth before you think too clearly about it. Was it desperation or something else? You couldn’t tell. He was offering a lamp in the never-ending darkness, a hand to raise you from the despair and lift you to the grassy plains you always saw in paintings.

And so, it was… Leon took you to his penthouse in the mortal realm, offered you shelter from the horrible storm Zeus created and treated you with nothing but kindness and care. He was still very much odd in comparison to the other gods you have met but this was a welcomed difference.

The two weeks you rested and took time to process the horrors you went through and those two weeks were refreshing. Leon always stayed in a room of his own while allowing you to give the guest room your own touch. What else could it be but flowers you grew yourself?

Leon was curious and peaked at now your bedroom while you were in the shower. The flowers were vibrant, beautiful and very poisonous. Lantanas on the windowsill were bright red and orange making the window look as if it was painted in the sunset’s colors. Along one of the walls proudly stood the Lily of the Valley as well as several Foxgloves. They didn’t pose much harm unless consumed but what worried him was the Wisteria flowers hanging from the ceiling.

If he remembers correctly those are not harmful for humans but for animals like cats or dogs. If Cerberus the three headed hound was to eat some it would be harmful for him.

“Mr. Leon.” You squeak the moment you saw him in your bedroom.

“Just Leon is fine…” He speaks up now feeling the anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach. “I just wanted to see the flowers…” He adds.

“Okay…” You speak awkwardly. “I’m not letting Cerberus in there. Wisteria could be harmful if he was to eat some.” You add and a hint of a smile appears in the corner of his lips.

“Thank you.”

You nod holding onto a damp towel you usually placed on a radiator in your bedroom. Just then the pitter patter of claws against the hardwood floors turns your attention to the three headed dog that stared into your soul.

He was quick to tuck one of his heads into your side practically demanding that you pet all three of his heads. “He took a liking to you.” Leon speaks up.

“Yes, I suppose he did.” You say as you lower your free hand to pet Cerberus on one of his heads.

“You two will protect the house then.” He spoke. “I have a meeting I must attend tonight… hopefully it won’t take too long.”

You took a better look at him noticing he wore a perfectly tailored suit with a Mountain Laurel tucked into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. It looked as if it was on the verge of wilting away.

You picked one of the smaller lilies now growing among your locks and replace the sad flower with a fresher one. His blue eyes stare into your own at the gesture and he gives you a nod of approval before leaving the pent house.

Left to your own devices you made your way to a bookshelf standing in the living room. Among the old classics and newer works, you run your fingers along the spines. Recently you finished reading The Count of Monte Cristo and now it was time to occupy your time with something else.

Your finger lands on the spine that read The Frankenstein... intrigued you pick it up and open it. What you found inside were newspapers neatly bent and placed between the pages. You take the paper and unfold it to find the flowers that grew in your hair from the moment the two of you met. The Lilly, the Water Hemlock, The Oleander and of course the Mountain Laurel. The very same he picked from the ground as you rushed out of Zeus’s chambers.

He pressed to preserve the flowers growing in your hair. Commemorating the stages of healing you passed in the last two weeks. Your heart warms as you put everything back in place. From that day onwards every time Leon had to leave the pent house you tucked a fresh flower into his breast pocket. Calendulas, Dahlias, Cornflowers, Pansies and lastly Roses.

He was kind and patient with you giving you support and care you couldn’t even dream of receiving while you still lived in the Olympus villa. He even insisted for you to pick a name of your own, one that he would call you and one that you felt comfortable having.

“(Y/N)…” He spoke up one evening tucking your attention away from a book you were reading. “I didn’t want to bring this up while you were still vulnerable and getting better but I think I should now…” He seemed nervous, hands seemed to clamp up as he rubbed them against his pants. “When we met… I came to Zeus to discuss me finding a wife.”

“Is that why you were going on meetings so often?” You question your heart feeling as if a dangerous string was tightening against the beating organ.

“Well yes… um… I asked Zeus for your hand in marriage.” He admits and your eyes widen. “I should have said something sooner and I’m deeply sorry for keeping this…”

“Why me?” The question escapes you.

He is taken aback by the question. “I’ll be frank… I have never seen a woman run for their life from Zeus and I just had to meet you. And when I did, I was…”

You await his continuation and he just can’t seem to find the right words to explain the hurricane of emotions that over took him the moment he saw you. He was enchanted with your beauty, charmed by your honesty when he kindly asked for it, knowing that I would make you vulnerable if you did speak the truth, he was angered by the pain a sweet doe such as yourself carried on her shoulders.

“I was smitten, enchanted, charmed, enamored, as if the fates have decided to bless me with such treasure. I went to those meetings to convince your mother to allow me to take you to the underworld with me. If you of course so wished. And she was a tough nut to crack.” He sighs.

Your brows furrow in confusion. How was your mother in charge of your own choices. Leon was giving you the choice to reject him and to walk away from the marriage he proposed but alas why would you? He treated you like a queen, his queen.

“She demanded that you spend spring and summer with her in the overworld. And you can stay with me in the underworld during winter and autumn.” He clarified noticing your confusion.

“How about a whole year?” You spoke up with determination laced in your tone.

Leon’s mouth opens slightly and he closes it. “You-“

“I don’t want to be controlled. I’m not a puppet. So yes, I will marry you and become your queen of the underworld.”

That was all he needed. The marriage ceremony as a whole didn’t take long and you were adorned in bridal wear as you stepped onto the Charon’s boat with Leon by your side. Demiter of course threw a fit over it all and demanded that you hold up the deal she made with Leon. Which was the whole catch. She made that deal with your now husband, not with yourself.

The boat ride was far from romantic the screaming souls of the dead pierced your ears but you didn’t mind it. This was going to be your life now and you willingly stepped onto the path that will lead you into the deepest parts of the underworld.

The house of Hades was adorned in reds, oranges and yellows it looked beautiful from old statues all the way to a deserted part in the west wing of the main hall where damned souls waited patiently in line awaiting their judgement.

Leon was quick to lift you off your feet carrying you, bridal style towards his chambers. He was practically attacked by workers under his care to get back to work but the fact that he now held and former Olympian goddess in his arms made them grow silent instantly.

“This will be our bedroom.” He spoke the moment he set you on your own two feet taking the room in.

It was spacious and adorned in memorabilia that just screamed it was his. “It looks lovely…”

“You… you can change it…” He was quick to offer. “However, nothing grows in the underworld, nothing really lives… but you could have gathered as much.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You smile at him and he has that look in his eyes.

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, now the flowers adorning your locks were the ones of a pomegranate. “You are…. Stunning.” He stumbles over the last word. “I just… want you to feel comfortable… and I know there are expectations… to… consummate the marriage but… there is really no need for it. I… do not expect you to…”

“I want to.” You interrupt his speech and you swore you could see a hint of a blush paint his cheeks.

All of your experiences thus far were unpleasant to say the least. You just needed something much nicer to replace the horrors that made Mountain Laurels begin growing among your locks.

“Okay…” He clears his throat. “Um… if you wish to stop at any moment just say so I will stop.” He clarifies as he steps forward his wedding robes perfectly framing his well-built body making you swallow a lump forming in your throat.

He was careful slowly moving his hand to hold your chin and guiding your head to look up at him. Already you had a feeling this will go differently than when you were violated by your own father.

Leon leaned in closer pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. Zeus would never, he would grab you by the throat and basically suck all of the air out of your body with his lips. Leon was so calm, so slow… his other hand moving to gently trace his fingers up your arms and down.

He took hold of your forearm guiding your hand to press it against his chest. He craved your touch. You took his movement as a sign to lift up your other hand placing it on the side of his neck.

The slow and gentle movement of lips began turning a bit more passionate and before you knew it you were pressed against his chest kissing him to the best of your ability. Your arms wrapping around his neck.

Leon lifted you off your feet carrying you to the lavish bed. His lips not moving once from yours as he laid you down on top of it. “You are beautiful.” He speaks his voice turning huskier.

The warmth you felt in your cheeks seemed to intensify as he spoke those sweet words. Your hair was spread against the pillow the petals falling all over the sheets and the floor. It made you feel vulnerable and somewhat uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” He questions the moment he noticed the shift in your expression.

“I- I don’t know…” You stutter.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no… I…” You sigh your brows furrowing.

Leon stills as he looks at you from above… there was a worried look pooling in his eyes. You could see the cogs turn in his head as he was thinking of a way to make you more comfortable. His blue irises were unfocused and until he looked straight into your eyes with determination.

“How about this…” He speaks as he picks you off the bed and switches places with you. He was now sat on the bed against the headboard and he sat you so you would straddle his lap. “You are the one in control…” He offers and your brows furrow in confusion. “Use my body to make yourself feel good.”

“I can’t do that.” You counter.

“I… want you to. I want you to feel pleasure… and if I can make it more comfortable for your I will…” Your heart warms at his reassurance. “So… use me…” He speaks; his tone was slightly unsure but his eyes were filled with determination.

You were sure you can do this. This man was your husband, kind, thoughtful and desperate to make you comfortable as well as make you feel as safe as he possibly could. So, you reach for his hands and place them on your hips.

You then move your hands to his robes pushing them off his body. His chest was full of battle scars. Some of them mere scratches but some deep and gnarly looking gashes. Your hand traces the scarred flesh and he shivers under your touch.

“They must have hurt…” You speak; your mind enveloped in a trance like state.

“Yours too…” He pulls on your clothing revealing some of the marks you had.

“They are not nearly as bad as yours.” You counter him and he chuckles.

His hand moves a strand of your hair behind your ear and cups your face. “Every scar has a story… we don’t need to compare them to acknowledge the fact that we felt pain.”

You lean in closer to him to place another kiss on his lips. This one was far shorter than when he kissed you and you think of what you wanted him to do. “Undress me.” You order.

His hands move up to push your wedding garments off your shoulders and you notice a slight tremor in his hands. He was nervous, nervous to be intimate with someone, nervous that he will hurt you, even if it was unintentional he would never forgive himself for harming you.

“I… don’t…” You sigh… you couldn’t pick where to start, what to do… how are you supposed to know what you wanted when you were never asked… or were never allowed to express.

“I want to kiss every inch of your skin…” He announces… his cheeks turning a shade darker. “Can… can I?”

A nod of your head and he leans in closer pressing a gentle kiss on your lips then moving lower. The feeling of his lips against your neck made you shiver. You held onto his bare shoulders for support as his lips began moving over your collarbone then over your shoulders.

“Can I go lower?” He asks and you hum in approval. He pushed more of the fabric to the side exposing your bare breasts to the slight chill in the air.

He pressed his lips over your breasts and took one of your nipples into his mouth. Your thighs clench against his from the sensation and your grip on his shoulders grows stronger. Before you knew it his mouth was on the other breast making small whimpers of pleasure escape your lips.

“Me… too…” You sigh… “I want to kiss you too...”

Leon leans back against the headboard giving you access to his chest. You leaned closer placing feather light kiss against his neck. He noticeably shivers and you feel a bulge forming beneath you. You look down and you know what is hiding beneath the fabric of his wedding garments.

“It’s…” He stumbles in his attempt to ease your mind but the moment you placed your hand over it his flinches almost choking on his saliva. Wide blue eyes make contact with yours. Your hand moves up and down along the length.

He was half Zeus’s size in length, about half a foot if you had to be specific, but what he was lacking in length or better yet not lacking considering the monstrosity Zeus carried beneath the thin fabrics Leon made up in grith. It was intimidating, the sheer thickness of it all.

“You don’t… have to…” Leon sighs at your movement, his shoulders were turning blush red as well as his cheeks.

“I want to.” You spoke.

“I want to make you feel good too.” Leon sighs as one of his hands moves up your thigh closer to your center.

“You can…”

His hand moves between your legs, his middle finger running along your slit. “You actually want this…” He spoke… it was as if it surprised him that he could feel your arousal.

You nod confirming… of course you wanted it. You were just scared. That it will be the same as it was before. But no matter what you trusted Leon. Your now husband. Your now king…

His fingers moved more entering your most sensitive place. You moaned as he pumped them inside you. First one, then two… then three… it didn’t hurt unlike when you felt this before and you pant against him. Your forehead leaned against his for support as your breaths mix in between.

Your hand began moving more confidently every stroke deliberate as the two of you pleasure each other. Leon swore under his breath several times and sooner rather than later the movements of your hands were in sync.

“I want to feel you… around me…” Leon spoke up an embarrassed tone hiding beneath the husky desire.

“Me too…” You pant.

“You are in charge.” He reminds you as he removes the fabric covering his length. The angry red tip stood proudly somehow; he looked even thicker than when you could barely wrap your hands around him earlier. Every vein that snaked around his length looked to be deliberate as if his whole purpose as a god was to give pleasure.

But alas he was the god of the dead and not love or sex. Not that it mattered. He helped you line up your hips with his length and was there to help you keep your balance. “Easy… at your own pace.” He reminds you.

You slowly lower your hips and feel the tip entering you. “That… is a lot…” You point out and he holds back a chuckle.

You move lower and get to about half way before you have to pause. The stretch was a different sensation that you didn’t expect to feel tonight. It wasn’t bad just… different. Leon patiently waits for you to adjust and the moment you took him in completely he bottoms out with a throaty moan.

“Fuck…” He groans. “(Y/N)….”

You let out a noise that was a mix between a hum and a whine as you attempted to get used to the thick length inside you.

“You… feel… so… fucking… good.” He pants between each word.

His praises and cloudy eyes make you want to see more of it. What expression he will make if you began moving? What if you moved faster? What if you were in a different position? The possibilities seemed to be endless, and you just had to see all of it…

You move your hips up and down and he forces his hands to grip the sheets, he wanted to touch you oh so desperately but there was that fear. You seemed to be so frail, what if he put too much pressure on your body?

��Leon…” You moan his name desperation hidden beneath the surface of your tone. “Touch me, please.” You plead.

And how is he supposed to say no? His hands move to your hips aiding you in your movements and leaning forward to silence his moans as much as he possibly could by kissing your breasts.

The sound of skin slapping against skin feels the room together with needy moans and pants, you swore the room got so much warmer than when you entered it earlier. It didn’t take long for a strange feeling develop in your stomach.

“Leon… I… feel weird…” You stumble to finish the sentence.

“It’s okay… let it go…” Taking his advice you relax and a sensation of pure ecstasy takes over your whole body. “That’s it… come on your throne…” Leon smiles against your skin. The pure huskiness in his voice makes you shiver. “You, okay?”

Your eyes were clouded with lust and desire. The pleasure was all too much for you to speak in the moment so you nod to answer his question.

Leon flips the two of you so you were laying on your back his length barely moving inside you as he held most of his weight on his arms. “Let me do all the work.” The blush on his cheeks was far darker than when you began consummating your marriage.

His hips begin moving in a slow and steady rhythm making you unravel under his touch. Panting and moaning his name you grab a hold of his shoulders to ground yourself. When his hips begin to move in a more rapid pace your nails dig into his skin and he groans. Each time he moves it feels as if he is reaching deeper into your core.

“L-Leon…” You stutter through the moans.

“You are doing so well… my queen…” He moans into your ear making you shiver yet again. Not even the gods know how many times goosebumps formed on your skin from his voice alone.

You can feel each vein and the moment he is about to reach his peak somehow you could tell he was about to feel the same overwhelming pleasure you felt while you were nested in his lap.

“I wish…” Thrust… “I could…” Thrust… “Give…” Thrust… “You…” Thrust… “A child…” He speaks absentmindedly. “Please come with me…” He begs.

Leon uses one of his arms to rub your clit and it takes seconds to get you to the same state he was in. You mumble under your breath and the both of you reach the climax. You spasming around his length and he deep inside you.

He pants as he leans his forehead against yours. He stayed like that for several minutes before his mind cleared and he picked you up taking you to a bath to clean you up. His bare feet walking over the lose petals that escaped your hair.

 The warm water relaxed your tense muscles as he joined you in the bath seating himself behind you and rubbing a wash cloth over your skin…

“Can I ask you something?” You turn your head to the side so your profile is facing him and you can catch a glimpse of his stunning blue eyes from your peripheral vision.

“Anything…” He speaks as he kisses your shoulder.

“You said you wished you could give me a child… does that mean you can’t?”

He tenses at your question. “No, I cannot.”

“Why?” You lean back against his chest.

He clears his throat. “Nothing grows in the underworld… and since I’m the king I cannot bear children by any means… now unfortunately… the only thing that seem to grow down here is the flowers in your hair…” He explains with a sigh as he reaches for the pomegranate flower that fell from your hair and was now floating in the soapy water…

The revelation saddened you but it still wouldn’t make you change your mind on the decision you have made when you married him. You were now his queen and you wouldn’t dare to break his heart by leaving him especially after all that he had done for you.

It turns out that the abandoned and ghostly west part of the house of Hades was a garden with tainted soil. You spent your alone time in there and on one particular day you buried some flowers into the soil.

Many days later you revisited the garden and there it was a single sprout peaking from the soil. Your hand automatically reaches for your stomach… perhaps… it was not so impossible to grow in the land of the dead.  

[hrtwayne]

Take my Breath Away || Alexia Putellas [Part One]

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Physiotherapist!Reader

Summary: Where the girl Alexia kissed at a bar ends up being hired as the new physiotherapist for the Barcelona team.

Note: English is not my first language.

Warning: None, except for the two being completely oblivious!

Next Chapter | Women's Football Masterlist

The night before, Y/n had gone out to celebrate her new job with some friends at one of London's trendiest bars. Amid laughter and conversation, the light and relaxed atmosphere allowed her to let loose, at least for a few hours, from the pressure she felt after securing a contract with a Spanish team after years of working in English football. The night took an unexpected turn, and under soft lights and loud music, Y/n found herself sharing a kiss with a woman with blonde hair and a captivating smile.

The next morning, the headache from the celebration's excesses throbbed intensely, and Y/n struggled to recall the details of the previous night. She blinked, still feeling dazed, until the image of the woman she had met the night before, with her blonde locks and mesmerizing gaze, returned to her mind.

"Damn," she muttered to herself as she sat up in bed, the fragments of memory starting to piece together. "Did I get her number?"

She wasn't sure, but she wasn't the type to let herself be distracted by such things, at least not for long.With her mind scattered, at 8:15 a.m., Y/n entered the Barcelona Training Center. Although she was familiar with the environment, having worked in similar centers before, there was something different this time, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was the weight of being back in Barcelona or the new challenge that awaited her.

As she crossed the main entrance, her eyes narrowed, taking in every detail of the place with the familiarity of someone who knew it well but the seriousness of someone who wanted to do everything perfectly. With her hands in her jacket pockets, she remained focused until she was approached by a man with a firm posture and a warm smile.

"Pleasure to meet you, Doctor. I'm Pere Romeu, the coach of the women's team," he said, extending his hand in greeting.

"Pleasure," Y/n smiled back, shaking his hand confidently.

Let's go, I'll introduce you to the players," the coach guided her through the center's corridors to a gym where the players were training intensely. "Ladies, take a break, please."

The athletes paused their activities and turned to Y/n and the coach. The physiotherapist, maintaining her professional demeanor, began to analyze them one by one, recognizing movements, observing postures, and identifying potential points of concern. However, what she didn't expect was to see, among them, the same blonde woman from the previous night. The shock was instant.

The woman, Alexia, stood still, her eyes wide in surprise as she recognized Y/n. A brief moment of tension filled the air, but it was quickly masked when Y/n bit her lip, hiding her nervousness before formally introducing herself.

"It's a pleasure, ladies. My name is Y/n, and I'll be your new physiotherapist," she said, approaching and shaking each of their hands firmly.

Alexia, who had been quiet until then, flashed a shy and charming smile at Y/n, still trying to process the coincidence. The two, visibly uncomfortable, tried to hide the tension, but it didn't go unnoticed by their teammates.

Ona, with her typical humor, shot a teasing look at Alexia as soon as Y/n and Romeu walked away to talk.

"Now I understand why you wanted to get her number last night," Ona commented with a mischievous smile.

Alexia, awkwardly, muttered something inaudible as she felt her face flush. She knew it would be hard to keep that secret with her friends around, especially with Ona and the other girls always paying attention.

"Don't you dare say anything!" Alexia grumbled, trying to avoid further teasing, but it was obvious the situation was far from going unnoticed.

Y/n, on the other hand, tried to stay focused on her conversation with the coach, though the image of Alexia and what had happened the night before was becoming clearer in her mind. She would have to figure out how to handle this coincidence and, more importantly, how to work alongside the woman who, without realizing it, was already stirring her emotions.

At the end of the day, when most of the players were already leaving training, Alexia told her friends she needed to stay a bit longer for a medical evaluation. The discomfort in her left knee, the same one that had suffered previous injuries and surgeries, was bothering her, and Coach Pere Romeu had recommended that Y/n take a careful look.

Alexia walked through the quiet corridors of the training center to the medical wing. The place was almost empty, the sound of the captain's footsteps echoing softly. When she reached the office door, she knocked lightly and waited for a response. A muffled sound of approval came from inside, and Alexia entered.

"Are you about to leave?" Alexia asked, her hands in her jacket pockets, as she saw Y/n sitting at the desk, focused on some papers.

Y/n, distracted by the paperwork, looked up at the familiar voice. Her eyes met Alexia's, and she took a deep breath, struggling to maintain her professional composure.

"Did something happen?" she inquired, trying to hide the concern she felt. The tension between them was still palpable, but Y/n knew she needed to focus on her work.

"I felt some discomfort in my left knee during training, and the coach asked you to take a look," Alexia replied, trying to mask her growing anxiety. She couldn't believe she was in the same room, alone, with the woman she had kissed the night before.

The previous night had been a whirlwind of emotions, and now, face-to-face with the physiotherapist responsible for her physical well-being, Alexia felt the thin line between personal and professional life being tested.

"Alright. Sit on that examination table, please," Y/n instructed, standing up from her chair. "I want to make sure it's nothing serious. The coach told me about your ACL injury, so I'll check to see if there's any connection."

Alexia did as she was told, sitting on the table as Y/n approached. The physiotherapist began to examine her left knee with skilled and gentle hands, pressing lightly on critical areas. Alexia let out a soft curse as the pain intensified in one specific spot.

"I want to make sure you're in condition to play the next game. If you feel any major discomfort, let me know immediately, okay?" Y/n said, massaging the captain's knee lightly. Her touch eased the pain, and Alexia took a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily.

The warmth of Y/n's touch was comforting, but it also stirred something in Alexia. She hated to admit that this closeness was affecting her. The memory of the previous night was still fresh, and now, with the physiotherapist so close, Alexia's emotions were in turmoil.

"Is there something you want to say, Captain?" Y/n asked, sensing the tension in the air as she pressed gently on another area of the knee.

Alexia hesitated, her heart racing. She knew exactly what she wanted to say, but this wasn't the time or place.

"I don't think it's something I should mix with work, Doctor," Alexia replied, trying to keep her tone professional, even though she was conflicted inside.

Y/n, however, didn't seem willing to completely ignore what had happened between them. Without losing her composure, she replied with a subtle tease:

"That's exactly why you should have left me your number, Putellas."

Alexia felt her face flush, averting her gaze to avoid direct eye contact. Y/n's comment, delivered in a low and calm tone, hit her hard. The physiotherapist's sweet perfume filled the space between them, bringing back memories of the previous night.

Without prolonging the tension, Y/n stepped back, grabbing a pen from her lab coat pocket. With quick movements, she turned to the desk and wrote something on a small post-it note. Then, she handed the note to Alexia, who looked at it curiously.

"You have my number now. You know you can call me if you need to," Y/n said with a small smile, placing the note in Alexia's hand.

Alexia, unsure how to react, tucked the post-it into her jacket pocket and nodded without saying a word. Her heart still racing and her mind in overdrive, she knew this interaction was just the beginning of something much more complicated.

[flyervel]

Your stepdad was absolutely mad at you seeing your grades low. Frustrated, he took all of your gadgets. Everything was on him, leaving you have to study to get them back. But of course, this didn’t help. But your stepdad have his own tricks of his sleeve.

You were forced to sit down to your study desk, at first it was the simple things. Calculus, history, everything, he knew you’d just distracted yourself with whatever you could think of, he stopped mid teaching. Walking to you with glare, before then he unbuttoned his pants to his cunt. His wet absolutely desperate for attention cunt dripping with glory which moved your attention into it.

“I’ll give you this if you get a good grades.” He said with a smirk on his face as he showed his flesh up to your face. Making your pants felt uncomfortable and your cock twitching.

Before words could come out, he kneed down, his hands swiftly unbuttoned your pants to find your hard cock, weeping with precum. You’re eyes widened as your stepdad took your length to his mouth. It felt so good your eyes rolled, his warm mouth sucking and the slurping sounds made it better.

“C’mon boy, study more. I’ll let you breed me if you do,” Your stepdad said while he kissed your angry tip before shoving all of it into his mouth.

As he gagged, his words stuck to your mind. Immediately you became motivated, studying harder then ever before while you moved your hips forward to fuck his throat before cumming, your seed on his throat, your stepdad snapped his fingers to your face. Getting your attention, he swallowed everything.

[sunsburns]

wait no because trying to compete w joaquin to look the best in sams eyes? that 100% would happen.

always showing up to work early if sam needed you there, always doing things "better" than the other to be picked to go out on missions, but in reality both of you were always gonna go, sam just likes to rile you both up!!!

you and joaquin arguing is sams entertainment, but he would always call you out on how y'all should just kiss or smthn, just so you would both get out of his hair, y'all are kiss asses 🙂‍↕️

THE biggest ass kissers the world has ever fucking seen!!!

it starts with small things.

beating joaquín torres to the debriefing room first, standing at attention just a little straighter when sam walks in. being the first to volunteer for a recon mission, making sure your reports are turned in before joaquín’s—little victories, small triumphs that keep the score tilting just slightly in your favour.

and joaquín? oh, he knows what you’re doing. he feels the competition just as strongly, meeting you beat for beat, smirk for smirk. if you show up early, he shows up earlier. if you get in a well-placed quip that makes sam chuckle, joaquín makes sure to drop a comment that gets him a full laugh, a shoulder clap.

sam catches on quickly, because of course he does. he thrives off of it, if anything, watching you and joaquín try to one-up each other over the most mundane things with the kind of patience only an older brother figure can have. half the time, he doesn’t even need to pit you against each other; you do that all on your own.

but here’s the thing—you and joaquín don’t actually hate each other. if anything, there’s an underlying respect, an unspoken acknowledgment of how damn good the other is at what they do. on the field, you’re an unstoppable duo, reading each other without a word, moving in sync in a way that only comes from deep familiarity. you know each other’s strengths, weaknesses, the little things that make the other tick—and you know exactly how to push each other’s buttons, whether it’s to provoke or distract.

and sam? oh, he knows it too.

it was why he has the two of you as his second hand. he sees how well you work together, how efficient things become when you’re not locked in some petty competition. hell, sometimes he even thinks you two are kinda cute together—just too damn stubborn to admit it.

but sometimes, sam stirs the pot just for fun. like when he lets it slip that he needs a file retrieved from the archives, and suddenly, you and joaquín are racing through the hallways, elbowing each other out of the way, nearly colliding into bucky in the process. or when he casually mentions needing someone to drive him to a meeting, and next thing he knows, both of you are already in the car, fighting over who gets to drive.

“y’all are exhausting,” sam sighs one day, watching as you and joaquín argue over who got the better shot during training with isaiah. he leans back in his chair, eyes flicking between you. “why don’t you just kiss already and get out of my face?”

that shuts both of you up real quick. joaquín’s face flushes, his lips parting like he wants to argue but can’t quite find the words. you, on the other hand, scoff, rolling your eyes before looking anywhere but at him.

sam just grins, kicking his feet up onto the table. “uh-huh. that’s what i thought.”

bucky, passing by with his coffee, gives sam a long look. “aren’t you being too hard on those kids?”

“nah,” sam replies easily, smirking. “they love it.”

[noctiva]

Yandere Toby hc-🪽

angel anon I see all ur asks in my inbox… what are we hehe *twirls hair*

//

Yandere!Toby Headcannons

-

CW!! Stalking, obsessive behaviour, mentions of death + murder, 18+ content, sexual content

slight NSFW under the cut! minors do not interact!

—

Yandere!Toby thinks he’s doing it all for your sake

Because he knows what’s best for you, and what’s best for you is him.

He knows how to treat you better than anyone else. Knows all of your favourite shows, foods, hobbies, and places to go (maybe only because he sneaks around your house when you think you’re alone, peeking through the windows to gaze at your beauty)

Yandere!Toby leaves you gifts and love notes. Pretty rocks he thinks you’d like, animal bones he cleaned just for you, pretty jewelry and hair clips he stole from his victims. All slipped into your mailbox, or left on your porch wrapped in a ribbon.

Yandere!Toby won’t hesitate to kill, but he’ll do it discreetly - leaving you wondering why all of your love interests just keep disappearing.

Yandere!Toby has snuck into your house once or twice (or three, four, five times) to steal little items from you that he’s sure you won’t miss.

Besides your favourite sweater - he took that too. Stuffing it with a pillow so he can fall asleep cuddled up against your scent, dreaming that one day he’ll have his arms wrapped around your body instead.

(And you don’t want it back, because more often than not he ends up hopelessly rutting against it - the smell of your perfume getting him harder than he’s ever been)

Yandere!Toby is patient at first. Hopeful that you’ll realize the truth eventually (the truth being, that you’ll be happiest with him).

But that patience doesn’t last long, because why don’t you get it? Why are you wasting time with all of these idiots when he’s right here? Showering you with love and appreciation you could never find elsewhere?

Though, he’d never really blame you. You were perfect. The fault was laid on every one else. For distracting you, leading you astray. Keeping you from him, and tainting your mind.

Yandere!Toby keeps trophies from all of the people he’s killed to gain your affection. His favourite being the jar of teeth that rests on his nightstand.

Yandere!Toby has your name carved into the handle of his hatchet. Because he’s doing this all for you. Not caring how bloody he has to get if it means the end goal is your lips on his.

Yandere!Toby likes to watch you sleep.

Likes to see you so peaceful. That’s when you’re the most beautiful, in his opinion. All blissful and unaware.

He could do anything to you. Anything.

But he’d wait. Because if he wanted a limp doll he’d just go back to humping your sweater. He wanted to hear you cry out his name, feel your nails drag down his back.

So the worst he’d do while you were sleeping was snip off a lock of your hair. From the back, so you wouldn’t notice it as quick.

He keeps it in a locket around his neck.

(But he often takes it out to sniff it.)

Yandere!Toby stole a Polaroid camera just to document you.

And when he prints the pictures out, he sticks them right on the wall next to his bed.

Pictures of you sleeping, at work, laughing with friends.

The pictures of you undressing, he keeps in his nightstand. Along with a pair of panties he snagged from your drawer.

He would return them, so that you could wash them and reinvigorate the scent of your laundry soap - but he’s sure that the new stains would catch your attention.

Yandere!Toby knows it’ll only take time. Because one day, you’ll have no choice but to love him - because there’ll be no one else left.

—————————————————————————☆

this is my first time doin a list of headcannons so I hope it’s alright 🙏🙏

thank you for the request!

[arxiwon]

Not Yours to Keep 𓍯𓂃

Pairing: Jake Sim x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fake Dating, Jealousy, Slow Burn, Happy Ending

Warnings: Emotional turmoil, jealousy, misunderstandings, mild language, eventual fluff

Synopsis:

Jake Sim has only ever had eyes for his ex. When he asks you to be his fake girlfriend to make her jealous, you agree, hiding the fact that you've loved him since childhood. You tell yourself it’s temporary, just a favor for an old friend—but deep down, you’re selfishly happy, even if it’s all pretend. When Jake’s ex finally wants him back, you convince yourself you never had a chance to begin with. But when you start smiling because of someone else, Jake realizes the one thing he wanted was right in front of him all along.

Jake never saw it coming. Maybe that was the worst part.

It started with a favor—just a simple pretend to be my girlfriend for a while favor. He had asked you so casually, so effortlessly, as if the idea of being with you, even in a fake way, meant nothing. And maybe to him, it didn’t. But to you? It meant everything.

You had loved Jake Sim since you were kids. You had hidden it well, buried it under layers of forced indifference, masking every stolen glance, every skipped heartbeat, with playful banter and eye-rolls. But when he asked—when he looked at you with those desperate, hopeful eyes—you found yourself saying yes before your brain could catch up.

Just for a little while. That’s what you told yourself.

But “a little while” was long enough for you to get used to the weight of his arm around your shoulders, the way he leaned in close when he laughed, the warmth of his fingers lacing through yours at parties just to put on a show. And even though you knew it wasn’t real, even though you saw the way he still looked at her—his ex, the one who had left but never really let him go—you let yourself pretend.

Until, finally, she noticed.

It was at a party, one you hadn’t even wanted to go to. Jake was being extra that night—hands lingering on your waist, lips brushing your ear as he whispered things that made your heart race even though they weren’t meant for you. And then she appeared, just like clockwork. Eyes trailing over the scene, lips pressing together in something that wasn’t quite a smile.

Jake stiffened. You felt it, the way his entire body seemed to react to her presence.

And just like that, you knew.

The game was over.

You should have walked away right then. Should have let go before it got worse. But Jake made it impossible. Because he still looked at you like you mattered, still held your hand absentmindedly, still called you at night like he needed you. And maybe, for a little while, he did.

But in the end, he chose her.

Of course, he did.

You told yourself it didn’t hurt. That it didn’t wreck you to see them together again. But the second you were alone, the weight of everything crashed down.

You were just a placeholder. A distraction.

Jake never looked back.

And so, you did what you had to do—you moved forward.

You started smiling again, laughing at stupid jokes that weren’t his, standing a little closer to someone who actually saw you. And that’s when it happened.

Jake saw you. Really saw you. And for the first time, it wasn’t him making you smile.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

You weren’t his anymore. You never really were. But now? Now, someone else had your attention, your laughter, your time—things he had always taken for granted. And fuck, it didn’t sit right with him.

He didn’t understand it at first. The bitterness, the tightness in his chest every time he saw you with him. The way his fists clenched when he overheard your name being said in someone else’s mouth. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

But it did.

And suddenly, Jake wasn’t so sure if he had lost his fake girlfriend.

Or if he had lost the only real thing he had ever had.

Jake never thought it would get to this point.

He never thought seeing you with someone else would wreck him like this.

At first, he tried to ignore it. Shrug it off like it was nothing—like it didn’t feel like something sharp twisting inside his chest whenever he caught you laughing with that guy. He told himself he was just being protective, that it was normal to feel a little weird about it. After all, you had been his for a while, even if it was just pretend.

But that excuse didn’t hold up when he saw the way you looked at him.

Because it wasn’t the way you used to look at Jake anymore.

It wasn’t playful or teasing. It wasn’t forced or practiced. It was real.

And that’s when it fucking hit him.

You weren’t his placeholder anymore. You weren’t even waiting for him.

You had moved on.

And it was all his fault.

It started eating away at him. Little things that never used to matter suddenly became unbearable. Like the way you used to sit next to him without thinking about it, and now you chose a different seat across the room. The way you used to lean into his touch instinctively, but now you barely even looked at him.

Fuck, even your voice was different when you spoke to him.

Distant. Guarded.

Like he wasn’t Jake—your Jake—anymore.

The final straw was when he saw the other guy—that guy—drop you off after class, his hand lingering on your back just a second too long, his eyes filled with something Jake recognized all too well.

Because once upon a time, he looked at you the same way.

Jake didn’t even think. He just moved.

Before he knew it, he had grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from the guy without so much as a glance in his direction.

“Jake, what the hell?” you snapped, trying to shake him off.

But his grip only tightened.

“We need to talk,” he muttered, his voice low, tense.

You scoffed. “Oh, now you wanna talk?”

Jake ignored the bite in your words, pulling you into a quieter hallway where no one could see the way his hands were shaking.

You yanked your arm away, glaring up at him. “What’s your problem?”

Jake opened his mouth. Closed it again.

Because he didn’t even know what to say. He didn’t have the right words for this—for the jealousy that burned in his veins, for the frustration of knowing he had done this to himself.

For the fear that maybe—just maybe—it was too late.

So instead, he blurted out the one thing he knew to be true.

“I don’t like it.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I don’t like seeing you with him.”

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Jake swallowed hard. “I mean it.”

“Yeah? And what do you expect me to do about that, Jake?” you snapped, arms crossing over your chest. “Drop everything? Wait around for you to figure out what you want—again?”

Guilt surged through him.

Because fuck, you were right.

“I didn’t—” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. ���I never wanted to hurt you.”

You flinched, just barely. “Well, you did.”

Jake felt his stomach drop.

You were done. He could see it in your eyes.

You weren’t going to wait for him anymore.

Desperation clawed at his throat. “Then let me fix it.”

You let out a breathy laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “You can’t just fix this, Jake.”

He took a step closer. “Why not?”

You stared at him for a long moment. “Because I don’t trust you.”

It hit him like a punch to the gut.

You always trusted him. Even when you shouldn’t have. Even when he didn’t deserve it.

But not anymore.

And maybe that was what scared him the most.

Jake’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I was an idiot.”

You didn’t deny it.

“I thought she was what I wanted,” he admitted, his hands clenching into fists. “I thought she was the one. And I didn’t even—” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I didn’t even realize I already had what I was looking for.”

Silence.

The kind that made his heart hammer against his ribs.

Then—

“You don’t get to say that now.”

Jake swallowed. “I know.”

But fuck, he was saying it anyway.

Because he meant it.

And maybe, just maybe—

He wasn’t too late after all.

Jake thought getting you back would be easy.

He thought once he confessed—once he laid everything bare—you’d fall into his arms the way you used to, let him hold you the way he ached to.

But reality hit harder than he expected.

Because you didn’t trust him anymore.

And that broke him more than anything else.

Now, he stood there, watching you laugh with that guy—that fucking guy—again, and it made his blood boil. But he couldn't say anything. Not when he was the one who pushed you away in the first place.

All he could do was wait.

Wait for you to look at him the way you used to.

Wait for you to realize that no one else could love you the way he did.

Wait for you to come back to him.

But fuck, it was harder than he thought.

Especially when his ex was still around.

“Jake,” she whined, linking her arm with his like she still had some kind of claim over him. “Are you even listening to me?”

Jake barely glanced at her, his eyes still trained on you.

You were different now. More guarded. Stronger.

And the worst part?

You looked happier without him.

“Jake,” his ex pressed, tugging on his sleeve. “Let’s go out. Just the two of us, like old times.”

He turned to her then, expression blank. “We were never like that.”

She blinked. “What?”

Jake sighed, pulling his arm away. “We were never just the two of us. You always needed attention from someone else.”

Her face twisted in irritation. “Oh, so now you care about loyalty?”

Jake clenched his jaw. “I always cared.”

Just not about you.

His ex scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever. You’ll come crawling back eventually.”

Jake didn't even bother responding.

His eyes had already found you again.

Because no matter what she said, the truth was clear.

The only person he was waiting for was you.

And no matter how long it took, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Jake didn’t know when waiting turned into suffering.

At first, he told himself it was fine—he deserved this, deserved to feel the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him. He watched from the sidelines as you laughed with someone else, as you let another guy into the space that once belonged to him.

And it fucking hurt.

But what hurt more was that he couldn’t blame you.

Because he had been the one to break you. To toss you aside when he thought he had everything he wanted. And by the time he realized you were the only thing he wanted, it was too late.

You were slipping through his fingers, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

So he waited.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months.

And still, Jake waited.

He watched you. Not in an overbearing way, but in the way someone watches the only thing that matters to them, hoping—praying—that maybe, just maybe, you’d look at him the way you used to.

But you never did.

Not once.

At least, not until that night.

It was late when he found you alone.

The guy who had been making you smile lately had just dropped you off, and Jake had been watching from his car, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

He wasn’t proud of the way jealousy consumed him.

Wasn’t proud of the way he got out of his car and followed you up to your door, the words already burning on his tongue before he could stop himself.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

You jumped, spinning around with wide eyes. “Jake?”

Jake swallowed hard. “Do you?”

You sighed, pressing your back against the door. “Why do you care?”

He let out a humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes,” you snapped, and for the first time in months, he saw it.

That fire. That spark in your eyes that only ever appeared when you were talking to him.

Jake took a step closer. “Because I love you.”

Your breath hitched.

Jake didn’t miss the way your fingers twitched like you wanted to reach for him but refused to let yourself.

“You don’t,” you whispered. “You only want me now because you can’t have me.”

Jake shook his head. “That’s not true.”

You laughed, but it was bitter. “It is. You had me, Jake. I loved you for years. But I was never enough, was I?”

Jake’s chest tightened. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, now you care about fair?”

Jake inhaled sharply. “I made a mistake.”

You scoffed. “Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t want to be your second choice.”

“You were never my second choice,” Jake said, voice firm.

You blinked. “Then why?”

Jake swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Because I was a fucking idiot.”

Silence.

Then—

“You still are.”

Jake exhaled a short laugh. “I know.”

You stared at him for a long moment before shaking your head. “I can’t do this.”

Jake’s heart stopped. “Wait.”

Your fingers tightened around your doorknob. “Jake—”

“I’ll wait.” His voice was desperate now. “For as long as it takes. Just tell me there’s still a chance.”

Your expression wavered. “Jake…”

“Please.”

His voice cracked.

And that was what broke you.

Your walls crumbled, your shoulders sagged, and for the first time in months, you let yourself feel.

“I hate you,” you whispered, but it didn’t sound convincing.

Jake stepped closer. “I know.”

“I should walk inside.”

“You should.”

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Then, before either of you could stop it—

You were kissing him.

It was desperate, angry, messy—months of heartbreak and longing and unresolved tension colliding all at once.

Jake groaned against your lips, hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear again.

“You love me,” he murmured between kisses.

You bit his lip. “Shut up.”

Jake smirked. “You do.”

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. “Jake, if you don’t shut up, I’m—”

“I love you,” he interrupted. “I love you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

You exhaled shakily. “You better not.”

And just like that, you were his again.

And this time—

He wasn’t going to lose you.

[monotonesmile]

omg hihi! can I request a Damian Wayne x reader where reader pranks him by ignoring him for a day. but if backfires because he actually gets really sad?

Prank Gone Wrong!!

[Damian Wayne X GN!Reader]

[Word Count: 1896

[Warnings: N/A]

[Fic Genre: Hurt/Comfort]

[Notes: Pouty Damian Wayne my beloved.]

—————————————————————

The moon was high in the sky as the moonlight streamed in through their window, illuminating their room in a soft glow, the sound of crickets chirping outside was a comforting and calm noise, a surprisingly calm night for the city of crime that is Gotham.

They were scrolling through their phone while lounging in bed, just scrolling YouTube before they had to sleep. After all, it is a school night, they’ll have to sleep eventually. Although, their attention was caught by a prank video where a girl was ignoring her boyfriend for an entire day, the, probably scripted, video making them snicker a little before their mind wanders into wondering how Damian would react if they started to just ignore him for a day.

They don’t know how he’d react to this prank in particular, they’ve pranked him in the past though, maybe he’d be pouty or grumpy because of it, but it sounds fun and they’re intrigued to see what Damian would do if they did ignore him for an entire day. Curiosity gets the better of them and they grin while turning their phone off, setting it aside and deciding to prank Damian the following day, thinking it’ll just be harmless fun, besides, Damian will probably just get annoyed and pouty, that’ll be a sight for them.

—————————————————————

As the next day comes around, the sound of students hustling about the halls to gather their supplies from lockers and head to class is the first thing that greets Damian, the usual sound of students talking with their friends, everything normal like every day previously. Though currently, he’s far more focused on trying to find his partner as he would every day, he usually starts his school day by talking with them about anything happening in their classes or if they’re possibly busy later, it’s one of the many things he enjoys.

Damian eventually found them after trying not to get squished by the crowd of students wandering the halls, seeing them looking through the locker, likely gathering their items for the first class of the day, it still brought a small smile to his face, no matter the situation, he finds himself smiling whenever he sees them.

“Beloved!” Damian called out to them but they had given no response, which was odd, but it’s entirely possible that they just couldn’t hear him over the multiple loud conversations happening around them, it is a crowded hallway and it’s not fairly big, so they probably just didn’t hear him, that’s fine, he’ll just get closer.

It wouldn’t take much to just walk over to them while they were closing their locker and heading off to their first class of the day, so Damian picked up his pace, quickly getting to their side, slowing down once he was beside them, feeling their familiar warmth just by standing beside them. He does notice that they have yet to say anything to him though, which he finds odd as well. They looked focused on something else entirely, though he doesn’t know what, trying to think back on previous conversations they had recently.

Perhaps they were just distracted by something, he doesn’t really think much of it, recalling that they said something the day before about a test they had today, so they’re probably just focusing on the curriculum of that class, knowing they likely want to get a decent grade, so he’s not particularly fretting over it. He can’t blame them for wanting to get a good grade, plus, he doesn’t mind just walking with them to class, even if they’re silent, it’s still nice to be by their side.

Damian walks beside them as they head to class, subconsciously opening the door for them before following them inside, taking his seat beside them and getting his notebook out, readying for the long school day ahead, putting their ignoring of him on the backburner until later on at lunch where he can talk to them later, for now, it’s time to focus and learn.

—————————————————————

Lunchtime rolls around a few hours later, the cafeteria filled with loud and rowdy students as Damian sat down beside them in their own little corner where they can be away from all the drama and noise, setting his lunch down, he was already prepared for them to start chatting about their day and possible plans they had for the day as they would do normally, yet nothing came this time, just pure silence, they didn’t even acknowledge him sitting down next to them, just focused on their food.

Not even the test Damian had taken was as confusing as this was, they weren’t talking to him at all, it’s been hours without their voice, and he hates it. He doesn’t like this random silence, he could practically hear his heart beating in his ears without their voice to fill the silence and drown it out, their voice was one of his favorite sounds in the world, but without it, he feels a void in his heart.

Damian frowns as he glances over at them, not that he’d ever admit it, but he was excited to hear them talk to him. It’s a possibility that they were just worried over their test score, but even then, they’d rattle his ear off about it, perhaps something with their personal life was distracting them, he had no clue and they weren’t making it any easier. He does know that he wants you to talk to him again, the silence was making him feel weird.

“Beloved? Is something wrong?” He tried to get them to talk to him, questioning if something was truly wrong, if they possibly wanted to talk about it, but again, no response, just pure silence as they ate, ignoring him completely.

“Beloved…please, talk to me.” Damian loathed pleading or begging, but he hated this weird feeling in his chest, he needed to hear them speak again, it was causing him to overthink every single possible thing that could’ve made them do this. Did something happen to upset them? So much that they went silent? Is it possible that he did something to upset you? He hopes not.

Damian hates this, he hates being ignored by them, it’s making his chest tighten up with dread and an odd feeling, his heart feels heavy, he doesn’t understand this, or them, is he truly upset that they weren’t talking to him? Is he…sad? He’s upset that they weren’t speaking, he’s gotten so used to hearing them speak and their voice that without it, it feels like something is missing, that something is wrong, and he despises it.

—————————————————————

The end of the school day comes to a close, the bell ringing throughout the halls as students rush past each other to escape to the buses or their parents cars to return home and leave the school day behind, but Damian didn’t, he was far too busy with his thoughts, he needed an answer to their silence, needing to know why he was being ignored, searching the halls for them, maneuvering through the crowd, trying to spot them in the sea of students.

Damian had finally spotted them heading to the lobby to leave as well, he was quick to run over to them, grabbing their arm without saying a word and dragging them to a corner where it’s quieter and away from anyone that could listen in before he finally confronted them.

“Beloved, why are you ignoring me? Did I do something to upset you?” Damian held them in place with his hand on their arm, he needed to know if this was his fault, if he upset them, he wanted them to talk to him. “I apologize if I did, but I do not like you ignoring me, it feels weird not having your voice following me. Please, talk to me, it feels like something is missing from my life without you speaking.”

He almost looked heartbroken as he spoke, even though he was trying so desperately to hide how much it hurt, but it was obvious in the way his eyebrows creased and scrunched up, his eyes downcast as his hand moved to hold their own, squeezing it gently. It made their resolve crumble almost instantly, they hadn’t meant to make him worry, they didn’t think he’d get this upset by it.

“Oh god…I’m sorry, I was trying to prank you, I didn’t think this would be the outcome…” They finally broke their day long silence with an apology, they didn’t like seeing him look so heartbroken, he’s usually so stoic with his expressions and emotions, his sudden display of sadness took them off guard completely.

“I’m so sorry, Damian, I saw a stupid prank and thought it’d be interesting to see how you’d react, I didn’t think you’d worry this much over it…” They reached up to gently cup his face, feeling him lean into their touch, a soft frown on his face, it had completely softened his sharp features, making him look so much sadder than anything they’d seen previously.

Damian melts into their touch, breathing a sigh of relief, he was truly happy that this was just a dumb prank, and that he hadn’t done anything to make them upset, that doesn’t make it hurt any less, but hearing them finally speak makes his heart lift back up, filling the void he had been feeling the entire day.

“So you aren’t mad at me?” He had to make sure, he doubts that they’d lie about it, it definitely sounded like something they’d do, they’ve pranked him plenty of times in the past, with varying reactions from him.

“God no, I’m not mad at you at all, Dami.” They smile softly, dispelling his worries with their words, slowly tracing their thumb across his cheek, not wanting him to worry any further about a prank they did that was definitely a mistake on their part.

“Good,” Damian huffs, his original stoicism returning as he crosses his arms, trying to look like he was just heartbroken or pouting, and failing spectacularly because he’s still leaning into their palms. “Never do that again.”

“I won’t, no more pranks that involve ignoring you.” They chuckle a little, trying not to snicker at his pouty face, they’re struggling to though, he just looks so damn cute like this.

“Stop laughing. You owe me a date where you can just ramble the entire time, to make up for your single day involving a vow of silence.” Damian grumbles at them, still trying to look like he isn’t pouting, he just wants to hear their voice for hours now after being deprived for a whole day, so they will be going on a date, no other options, it’s final.

They actually laugh at that before nodding with a big smile, their arms falling to rest around his shoulders in a loose hug, they missed talking to him anyway, it was truly a struggle to not talk or acknowledge him an entire day, this is something they missed, just holding each other. Damian rolls his eyes before wrapping his arms around them in a hug, albeit his is much tighter, they’d been dodging his affection so he will be practically crushing them in a hug now, it feels nice to have their warmth against him again, the comforting feeling returning to him.

—————————————————————

[Requests are open!]

[zeroseuniverse]

Oh my gosh I need to know how their Wooyoung's date goes please 🙏🏻 💕

You Are The Only Exception

Word Count: 832 Summary: "You brought me to a café?" you mused as you slid into your seat. "I was expecting something more… chaotic." Pairing: Wooyoung X Reader

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Wooyoung showed up at your door looking… different. Not drastically so—he was still Wooyoung, still had that effortless charm—but something about him felt quieter. Like, for once, he wasn’t trying to fill the air with noise.

"You clean up nice," you teased, eyeing the way he’d traded his usual playful wardrobe for something a little neater—still casual, but with an intentionality you hadn’t seen before.

"Had to step up my game," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn’t want to mess this up."

That caught you off guard. Wooyoung never seemed nervous. Yet here he was, shifting his weight slightly, watching you like your reaction actually mattered.

You softened. "So, what’s the plan?"

He perked up at that. "Come find out."

The two of you ended up at a quiet little café, tucked away from the usual crowds. It was cozy, the kind of place that felt untouched by time, with warm lighting and soft music playing in the background.

"You brought me to a café?" you mused as you slid into your seat. "I was expecting something more… chaotic."

Wooyoung chuckled. "I thought about it. But I wanted to actually talk to you—without distractions, without me being, y'know, me all the time."

You tilted your head. "And who are you being right now?"

His gaze flickered to yours, steady in a way that made your heart stutter. "Just… someone who really likes you."

You weren’t sure how to respond to that.

For once, there were no jokes, no over-the-top gestures. Just Wooyoung, looking at you like he meant every word.

The conversation came easily after that. He asked about your favorite books, your childhood memories, the little things that most people never thought to ask. And he listened—really listened. No interruptions, no teasing, just quiet attention.

At some point, you realized how natural it felt. How easy it was to just be with him.

"You’re not what I expected," you admitted, stirring your drink.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I mean, I knew you were obnoxious," you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp. "But I didn’t expect you to be… this thoughtful."

He smiled, something small and genuine. "I meant what I said. I never wanted this to be a game."

You let that settle between you, warm and certain.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe it.

The café had long since emptied of its earlier rush, leaving behind only the quiet hum of conversation from a few late-night customers. Your drinks sat half-finished between you, but neither of you made a move to leave.

You weren’t ready for this night to end.

Wooyoung leaned back in his seat, fingers tapping lightly against his cup. He had relaxed sometime during the night, the nervous edge from earlier melting into something softer, more open. His usual playful grin was still there, but it was gentler now—not a mask, just him.

"You know," he started, tilting his head, "I think this is the longest we’ve ever talked without you threatening me."

You laughed. "Don’t get used to it."

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Too late. I like this side of you."

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. "You act like I’m some cold-hearted villain."

"Never said that," he countered smoothly. "But you do have walls."

Your fingers tightened slightly around your cup. "And you don’t?"

Wooyoung exhaled a soft laugh, nodding as he conceded the point. "Fair enough." He traced the rim of his cup with his fingertip, suddenly thoughtful. "I think people assume I don’t take things seriously because I joke around so much."

You stayed quiet, sensing there was more he wanted to say.

"But I do," he murmured. "Especially when it comes to the people that matter."

Your heart did something complicated in your chest.

"Wooyoung…"

His eyes lifted to yours, warm and steady. "I don’t want to rush you," he said quietly. "I know I’ve spent so much time pretending none of this mattered, but it does. You do. And if you need time to figure out how you feel about that, I’ll wait."

You weren’t sure when it had happened—when the flirt who drove you insane became the person sitting across from you, saying things that made your breath catch.

Maybe it had always been there, underneath the teasing and the quips. Maybe you had just refused to see it.

The weight of his words settled between you, steady and patient.

"I don’t think I need time," you admitted, voice quieter now. "I think I just needed to hear you say it."

His lips parted slightly, as if surprised by your honesty. But then, slowly, that warm, genuine smile spread across his face—the one he didn’t show just anyone.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Wooyoung reached across the table, fingers brushing tentatively against yours. It wasn’t a grand gesture, nothing dramatic. Just warmth, a quiet promise between you.

And for the first time, you let yourself hold on.

[mhahaikyuus]

I have my reasons

tags:; : royal au, gojo x f!reader, fluff, childhood best friend gojo, gojo is deeply in love

wc:; 1k

a/n: I just wanted to post it's been a while bc school is whooping me DOWN. let me know if you like it and I can make it a series, hope you enjoy :)

Your corset was digging into your side as you shifted in your seat trying to subtly fix your dress. It was no use. Your maids painstakingly putting you in this elaborate outfit for today like a ornate China doll.

You sighed in acceptance at your view. The hot sun beating down on the crowds of the most elite in the country as they mingled on grassy fields. You fanned yourself with ornate flimsy fabric from the heat to no avail.

The emperor had announced a lively tournament to last as long as he saw fit since success from the war. 10 long years of conquering had finally come to an end. The clans all requested to join together to celebrate.

All the women in their best, made polite conversation an walked around the estate. The group of loud men cheering and belching their stories through tart wine and sudsy beer. The emperor boasting of his exploits and battle wounds surrounded by yes men, your own father included.

You were the daughter to the closest advisor and political genius of the emperor. Your father and the Emperor had been a pair since they were young themselves.

Now you were forced into a tight corset, flowy dress, pins sticking into your scalp the result of a elegant updo your maid, Helena had fixed.

You sat at the table of the emperor wishing to be anywhere else at the moment. You never enjoyed royal events since you were a child. You could think of 40 different better ways to spend your time than socializing with your so called peers. They were draining to deal with and you had to maintain polite composure.

"Hey...pstt."

You side eyed your best friend who was failing to be discrete in getting your attention, leaning towards you.

"What Toru?" You said to his wide blue eyes. His usually wild white hair combed down and he was wearing his colored glasses with traditional robes.

He smiled at finally getting your attention and your nickname for him, "How much longer?"

You let out a small laugh at his words leaning a bit to talk, "We're only on the third course." He was always impatient at these events.

He let out a small whine, dropping his head on the tablecloth. You nudged him with your leg to get him to stop. He huffed drawing himself up into sitting up.

"You know how Emperor Gojo is."

He rolled his eyes and almost slouched like a child, "My dad is so attention seeking, we get it."

You almost choked your drink at your best friend's words. He couldn't be serious.

"Yeah, it's a bad trait to have." You said to yourself with a laugh before taking a sip of wine.

Satoru and his father didn't get along great but there was no denying that he was the rightful heir. He was the chosen one, and a mirror image of the old emperor.

The party was getting rowdier as time went on. The royals taking advantage of the endless wine and beer. Singing and loud cheering as people socialized was getting to you. The loud noises hurting your ears slowly starting an ache in your temples. Your social battery was depleted.

"I'm about to leave." Gojo said suddenly turning to you in his seat. His leg jumping under the table. He was ready to make his exit.

You raised your eyebrows at his words, "Where?"

He shrugged and a loud cheer erupted on the other end of the table.

Gojo turned to the distracted crowd then back to you. His large hand slipping out the sleeve of his robe to hold your own. He grabbed your hand and began to pull you through the crowd. You stumbled getting up from the table.

"Toru, we can't just-" You protested but followed him his hand firmly gripping your own. He continued through the crowd as you gripped his hand firmly to keep from tripping over your dress.

"We just did." He said pulling you into a dark archway from the crowd.

This was a familiar area of the castle, since you two were children exploring different areas of the Gojo Estate. The area he pulled you into was not a well visited. Maids would use it occasionally if a room was blocked off as an alternative route.

Gojo's hand slipped from your own as you walked down the empty hallway. You let out a sigh of relief at the silence feeling your own head not beat in irritation. The only noise in the otherwise silent corridor were your heels clicking on the stone floor. You bunched up your layered dress and sat on the window's ledge.

Satoru watched you as you settled in, his hands in his robes as he leaned against the wall. He would rather spend time with you than anyone else.

"Thanks for getting me out of there." You said with a smile watching your feet dangle as they swung under you.

He returned a cute smile, "You were fading."

You shrugged, "Parties aren't my thing, Mr. Social." You teased wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Satoru could feel his face heat up at your words letting out a cough avoiding your eyes. You smiled at his red tinted cheeks.

Your best friend was the first born son of the biggest clan in your country. He was charming and wasn't bad looking. Of course he had his fun with women, taverns and brothels. You were more of the introverted side. Enjoying your time at the estate with books and music.

He rolled his eyes at your words, kicking the dirt under his feet before meeting your eyes. "Wasn't just for you ya know. I had my own reasons." Satoru replied simply.

You. He thought.

"What?" you asked, Satoru looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back.

"Nothing." He shrugged hopping up on the ledge next to you. His much longer legs crossing in front of him. Gojo's breath hitching every time he was able to smell your sweet perfume but you never noticed. You two enjoyed the silence sitting with each other.

"Lady Wu was-

"so drunk!" You finished for him and you two laughed gossiping about everyone in your own little world for the rest of the party.

[comatosebunny09]

serve & protect | sylus

— summary: you’ve stood dutifully by his side for years. seen him at his worst, not once letting that side of him deter you. can you blame him for craving more than your loyalty? — cw: royalty au, king sylus, femme reader, knight/bodyguard reader, mutual pining, marking, restraints, sexual tension, slow burn, sylus isn’t a normal king, this isn’t a medieval setting, there are cars and indoor plumbing ‘round here, reader has hair for the sake of plot — notes: a reimagining of something i wrote a few years ago. heavily inspired by final fantasy xv & the beast within (2024). tysm for reading! — now playing: tender strength - yu-peng chan, hoyo-mix

Willing His Majesty to behave and him actually doing so are two foreign points on a map. 

It’s kind of your fault, really. 

You almost don’t. Nearly preserve your aloofness, your decorum. But then you do let your formalities slip for the briefest second, and that’s what heralds this mess. 

A traitorous sigh slips past your lips, summoning the attention of your wintry-haired charge.

Warmth pours throughout your person, a prickly spike of embarrassment clotting your veins. You stiffen, staring at the dark, heavy curtains shielding the dining hall from the sun’s brilliant spill. Try to ignore how your skin tingles beneath the curious study of your king. How those scarlet eyes crinkle mirthfully, wittingly, and you know all too well no good will come from that look. 

He’s in a playful mood, isn’t he? And you’re about to serve as his court jester. 

“Are you alright, dear friend?” he intones, loud enough for only you to hear, ignoring the monotonous prattle of his guest across the table. 

His voice curls around your brain, seeping through the folds of it. You straighten, arms stiffly folded behind you, quietly clearing your throat to ward off the spell of dizziness threatening to take hold. Curse him for sounding so devastatingly hot. For being so terribly distracting, so unfairly handsome.

You murmur an apology, not once taking your eyes off the far wall to look at him. To do so would be dangerous. Get you into more trouble. You hope by ignoring him, he’ll leave you be, but—

Well, His Majesty is a stubborn man, and once he gets going, there’s no stopping him.

He fiddles with a fork on the dining table with long, skillful fingers. Smooths out the little wrinkles forming in the tablecloth, adjusting himself in his wing-backed seat into an uninterested slouch. “You’ve been awfully huffy today. Are you bored?” 

A little, you inwardly reply. You don’t care much for politics. For these fickle conversations of wealth, alliances, and nobility. You merely follow orders, keeping your opinions to yourself unless they’re explicitly requested. 

Being a knight proves to be much more entertaining than serving as a tactician or advisor. At least you can keep your hands and feet busy instead of rotting away at a desk, ripping out your hair and fretting over the intricacies of running an entire nation. 

You remain quiet, tuning out His Majesty’s attempts to get you to break character. 

But, as mentioned before, your king is a persistent man. 

He sighs, slipping further down in his chair. Props his temple on his knuckles, an ankle resting on the pocket of his knee whilst the free set of fingers drum on the chair’s arm. “I don’t blame you if you are. She’s not very entertaining, is she? Nor is she very bright.”

You snort despite yourself. Quickly remember your decorum, a scowl twisting up your lips. Your eyes shoot to your wayward king. “Majesty!” you admonish on a whispered yell.

A smirk pulls at his lips. He playfully narrows his eyes at you from behind the shelter of his hand. Has you right where he wants you, feeding into his childish games. Just like old times. 

Your staring contest, however, is short-lived when the sharp click of a teacup meeting its saucer echoes through the stilled dining hall.

“I’m sorry,” quips a voice doused in vitriol from the table’s other end, causing your attention to snap to its source. “Am I interrupting something?”

The Queen of Universum ingests the pair of you with sharp, mead-infused eyes, vexation tugging at her red-painted lips. Like two scolded children, you straighten, King Sylus sitting up in his seat with a brilliantly fake smile.

“Of course not. Please, continue with your monologuing,” he says with a theatrical flourish of his fingers. He would roll his eyes if he could; you just know it.

You disguise a laugh as a cough, piping up when the queen’s glare snaps to you. You try not to bristle beneath the weight she carries. Beneath the thin stretch of her lips. She doesn’t like you very much. Of course, you don’t care for her, either. 

She’s made it perfectly clear that she views you as a threat to her plans—marrying her daughter off to your king to forge an alliance between your countries, to spread her family’s reign. No room for love. She’s mentioned more than once that your familiarity with the king is inappropriate, a threat to his crown. How scandalous it would be for him to take you as his bride instead of someone with noble blood.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fingers curling into a fist at your back until your nails bite unforgivingly into your palm. 

Like you don’t already grapple with the notion every time he touches you or smiles a little too charmingly in your direction.

You’re not fit to be a contender for his heart; not fit to be a queen. 

Her eyes finally slip away from you, refocusing on the center of your musings. Your relief is short-lived as an impish smile rounds her lips. You swallow thickly, the queen’s body language boding danger.

“Is it truly necessary for your lapdog to be here? Her presence is spoiling my meal.”

You blink rapidly. Incredulously, mouth spilling open.

Lap—

Lapdog?

I’m sorry, what?

If you had hackles, they would raise. Instead, your nostrils flare, the tendons in your neck pulling, jaw set in a rigid line. An omniscient smirk cants the queen’s lips. She knows just how to creep beneath your skin, how to wrap her claws around your pride and pull it apart. 

How dare she compare you to a bloody dog! You’re loyal, yes. At His Majesty’s beck and call. His shield. Have been for years. But to be compared to an animal, of all things—

He feels the malice sloughing off your skin in waves. Eyes you warily in his peripheral before raising a hand to quell your silent rage.

“Down, girl,” he teases, and you glower at him. 

It seems he also wants to play along with these dog jokes.

Leaning forward, your king perches his elbows on the dining table. Twines his fingers together, resting his chin atop his knuckles, a deceptively sweet smile boasting his teeth. Having known him for as long as you have, you can easily sense the irritation pouring over the tense set of his muscles. The stiffness between his shoulder blades, peering through the tailored pleat of his jacket.

“My Lady,” he begins, words bathed in silk. “I’m not sure how you treat your subjects in Universum, and frankly, I do not care. But here, we address our people with dignity and respect regardless of race, color, status, or creed.”

The queen’s expression morphs into one of mortification. She straightens in her seat, a steady creep of redness inhabiting her cheeks as she studies the doily texture of the tablecloth. You resist an urge to cheer.

“While you are my guest, you are expected to behave with poise and grace. And I would greatly appreciate it if you did not disrespect my friend here like that again.” 

Scarlet eyes briefly flit to you, shining with a spark of fondness—a tenderness that sets your body alight with heat—before returning to the queen. 

“Or anyone in my kingdom, for that matter. Understood?” His Majesty concludes with a raised brow, sparing no room for argument.

Pride swells in your chest, warm like the soft embrace of a fur shawl on a wintry day. He’s shut her up in his own way. Read her to filth with the poise and regality of a man of his stature, and you’re envious of his composure. They don’t call him a king for nothing. 

You straighten at his side, mouth twitching with the threat of an arrogant smile, and your chin lifts slightly. Defiantly. 

She studies her lap, pulling at her fingernails. You watch a kaleidoscope of emotions stroll across her face before a nervous titter falls from her lips. 

“My apologies, Your Majesty. That was very inappropriate of me.” Her pink tongue darts out to wet her lips while she sweeps a chocolate ringlet of hair behind her ear. “I was only hoping that the two of us could have a little…chat.” She looks at you, a note of caution stirring beneath her lashes. “Alone.”

Sylus sits back with a scoff as if he’s just as confused by her request as you are. It’s rare you leave his side. Rare you’re not in his shadow, head on a swivel, fingers wrapped about your sword. You’re even present when he’s sunk beneath the murky pull of sleep. 

“Does her being here pose some sort of threat to you?” he interrogates around a smirk.

“Not so much a threat as it is a distraction.”

A distraction to whom, you wonder. It’s a ridiculous request. You’re his bodyguard, for the Gods’ sake. You wouldn’t put it past her to make an attempt on his life in your absence. Forgo the pleasantries and proposal for marriage and end his lineage here and now. Not that she could.

Your mouth works around a protest, yet it dies in your throat when your king calls your name after some time spent deliberating. He peers at you from his shoulder, and you snap to attention.

“Sorry, dear friend,” he says, tone sloping with repentance. “Would you mind giving us some space for a little while? I fear your presence is making our guest uncomfortable.”

You cast him a pensive look. Lips tremble and part. His expression softens, and he winks at you, turning up the dial of his charm. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Of course, he will. His Majesty is more than capable of handling himself. Sometimes, you wonder what purpose you serve. He’s a hulk of a man, brimming with untapped power and bleeding intimidation. Most days, you feel you’re by his side to create the illusion of protection. 

Remembering your place, you step back and excuse yourself with a curt bow. You caution one last look at your charge before pivoting, briskly making for the door, ignoring the thunderous drum of your pulse in your ears.

You feel his eyes track your every move as your boots click soundly against the glittering, marbled floor. Feel the queen’s gaze drilling into your back, exuding a quieted smugness as if she’s won your silent war of wills. 

As the solid, ornate doors of the dining hall draw closed behind you, you catch wind of their conversation over your shoulder, and your heart plummets to your feet. 

“So,” begins the queen, voice steeping low. “I hear you are in need of a bride.”

—

You’re a mess of grit teeth and unease on the doors’ other side.

You’ve paced back and forth for what feels like an eternity, warring with your emotions. You’re not sure what has you more on edge: having been made to look like a fool in front of your king, or the implications of that statement when you departed from the dining room. 

“I hear you are in need of a bride.”

The conversation was inevitable. Doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

It’s the entire reason Universum’s queen has frequented your kingdom so much. Trying to set him up with her daughter, the princess, under the guise of uniting your people. You both know she’s greedy for power following her husband’s untimely demise, and His Majesty is teeming with it. 

You scoff, stopping your march to lean against the double doors, arms crossed over your chest. With a shuddering breath out, your face turned skyward, and your eyes shuttered closed, you try to compose yourself. 

If you keep huffing and puffing about like this, you might convince yourself that you care for your king more than you should. More than you’re allowed to. 

When you’ve begun to settle your nerves, the chorus of boots striking the carpeted floor piques your interest. 

You open an eye as dark figures of varying heights and sizes ease into frame, moving past you, carrying laughter and camaraderie with them. Crownsguardsmen. 

They regard you with quick bows and wary smiles, their banter lulling to a dull murmur in the face of their superior. You acknowledge them casually, still propped against the oakwood doors, not at all in the mood for formalities. 

Amid the gaggle of guards, a set of curious sienna eyes alight on you, widening with recognition before crinkling with glee. 

The smaller guard shoves through her comrades, briskly approaching you as her teammates walk out of sight. You study the top of her sleek, brown hair before she stops before you. And you stiffen, stammering as she snatches up your hands, her excitement palpable. 

Tara. You recognize her as a new recruit with youthful eyes and enough enthusiasm to power the entire Citadel. 

She reminded you of yourself when you first joined the king’s army. A young woman with a target on her back because of her gender and status. She possessed exceptional prowess with an array of weapons and vast knowledge of the kingdom’s technology. Yet, she was constantly beleaguered by her comrades and, oftentimes, her trainers.

You threw around your brass a little, ensuring she was treated as fairly as her male counterparts whilst she trained as a knight. Sometimes sparred or studied with her on your rare occasions of downtime. You were there to congratulate her when she’d been appointed a member of His Majesty’s royal guard.

With King Sylus on the throne, the Crownsguard became more progressive, opening its doors to anyone willing to lay their life down for him. Too bad a bunch of egotistical, chauvinistic airheads still occupied his ranks. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am!” Tara sing-songs, overflowing with zeal. 

You wince at the pitch of her voice, the brilliance of her smile. But you find her infectious, a soft chuckle ducking through your lips. You unwind one of your hands from her grasp, ruffling her hair affectionately. Had she been anyone else, you would’ve reprimanded her for forgoing the proper customs and courtesies. 

But are you really in any position to lecture anyone about etiquette right now?

“Good afternoon, Tara.” You’re surprised by the mildness of your voice. The fondness of it.

If she had a tail, it would surely be wagging. Your innards color with warmth at the thought. You’ve found someone else you want to protect almost as much as your king.

“How are you today, ma’am?” she asks, dispelling the nebula of your thoughts. 

Averting your gaze, you sigh, recalling what’s got you so out of sorts in the first place. You cross your arms, your spine reacquainting itself with the intricate carvings of one of the dining room’s doors with a muted thunk. “I’ve had better days.”

Tara’s expression pulls into one of curiosity. “Something the matter?” 

She steps closer, bursting your figurative bubble. With her hands clasped behind her back, Tara scrutinizes you, ducking this way and that, giving you a visual inspection. 

“Come to think of it, isn’t His Majesty having brunch with the Queen of Universum right now?” She pensively taps her lip with her index finger, eyes narrowing in thought. “Behind you?”

You flinch, watching her from down your nose. She’s eerily perceptive for someone so young. Invasive, pummeling you with a hundred questions a minute. 

“That’s strange. Aren’t you normally by his side? Did something happen? Did you get into trouble?” Tara goads, nudging you with her elbow.

You scoff, pushing off the door. For all the years you’ve known your king, you’ve never been in trouble with him. Garnered the ire of his advisor once or twice, sure. Pissed off his royal entourage with your sharp tongue, maybe. But you don’t think Sylus harbors a malicious bone in his body for you. You don’t think he ever could.

You cross the hall, perching your hands on an adjacent windowsill. The marble texture is cold beneath your palms. Grounding. You study the mixture of historical and modern architecture lining the horizon, a scene reminiscent of a dragon’s maw. 

The land of Insomnia brims with life beyond The Citadel’s walls, a nation once war-torn slowly rebuilding itself under the guidance of your genial king.

“No, I’m not in trouble.” You turn, sitting on the ledge. Your voice descends as if you’re having a conversation with yourself. “But not everyone seems to like the idea of me at the king’s side.”

Tara moves towards you with a placating smile, taking up one of your hands and squeezing it. “The queen doesn’t like you very much, does she?” 

Your silence serves as her answer. 

The smaller woman pats your hand, thumb smoothing over the rough patch of skin stretched over the clutch of it. “Well, I could’ve told you that.”

You cut your eyes at her in warning. What’s with everyone testing your patience today? Picking on you?

“You’re competition,” Tara matter of factly adds, maneuvering to lean against the windowsill beside you. 

You study the weathered tips of your boots before your gaze slowly rises to Tara. Her eyes gloss over with tenderness. With pity as a slow creep of heat inhabits the pit of your stomach. You avert your gaze, boring into the dining hall’s doors. 

You don’t have to ask what she means by that; you’ve heard the statement numerous times as of late. Your king’s recent treatment of you doesn’t help matters, exacerbating the rumor that you’re more than just his loyal subject.

As if sensing your internal plight, Tara decides to shift gears. You’re grateful for the reprieve, getting too hung up in your mind again. 

“So, do you really think the queen killed her husband?” she whispers, leaning in with a hand cupped around her mouth.

You chuckle. Leave it to Tara to fill the space with gossip. “I couldn’t say. But I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a bit of a bi—”

As if on cue, the grandiose doors of the dining room groan open, spilling the artificial light inside onto the carpeted floor. You and Tara snap to attention like two youths caught dawdling, stone-faced, the remnants of your conversation corked in your throats. 

How anticlimactic, you muse, watching several figures emerge from the room until your eyes alight on a familiar, riotous mop of white. 

Your breath thickens in your throat as scarlet eyes capture yours. The lips beneath them quirk before the towering silhouette they belong to, strides past you.

Tara’s hand brushes yours. You don’t have to look to know she’s giving you the most impish side-eye. 

The queen turns on her heel to face your king, her entourage scuttling about behind her. She’s half-hidden by the mass that is His Majesty, but beyond his bulk, you make out her red lips curving into a deceitful smile. Bile singes the back of your throat, your fists tightening at your sides. 

“It’s been a pleasure, Your Majesty.” She punctuates her words with a small curtsy and head tilt. 

His Majesty stuffs his hand in his pocket, his wispy hair sweeping over broad shoulders. Boredom lances through his deep timbre, and you imagine his eyes rolling with disinterest. “The pleasure was hardly mine.”

An indignant sound salts the air, dredged from the queen’s throat. You bite back a laugh, recalling what got you sent out in the first place. Tara flinches in your peripheral, tamping down a laugh herself. 

Ignoring your king’s waywardness, the queen squares her shoulders and straightens her spine, her head held high. She clears her throat, holding out her hand for your liege to take. When he does nothing, she waggles it expectantly, wordlessly demanding he kiss it.

You watch the scene unfold with bated breath, tight lips. Inwardly cheer when Sylus scoffs, turning away from his obstinate guest. He waves a tired hand over his shoulder, summoning two guards stationed by the hallway’s entrance.

“Please ensure the queen makes it back to her car. Safely or harmed, I don’t care,” he tacks on under his breath.

The guards acknowledge him with nods and move to flank the queen and her royal retinue. The woman huffs, indignantly stomping her foot like a child deprived of their favorite snack. She grabs the tail of her dress and brusquely spins before being led out, carrying her jilted air with her. 

You resist a smile. Pride spools heavy in your chest. It’s almost like your souls are linked; your king’s never cared for rude nobles and their politics, mirroring your sentiment. 

He conquers the space between you in three measured strides. Pilfers the air from your lungs as electricity and pheromones spark between you, and you’re drawn into the ruinous stir of his eyes. 

Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Tara dismisses herself with a bow, but not before discreetly nudging you in her retreat. Sylus barely acknowledges her, busy memorizing every detail of your face. Every tight breath slipping through your parted lips, every feathery flutter of your lashes.

You rapidly blink as if remembering where you are, keenly aware that the pair of you are alone. 

The king’s proximity throws you off-kilter. The earthy scent and comforting warmth he exudes permeate the thickened layers of your uniform, wrapping around your heart, squeezing, leaving you raw and exposed. Your jaw ticks.

His expression slackens, brows knitting in the inner corners, and he coyly cocks his head to one side. “Are you alright, dear friend?” The texture of his voice is gritty as sandpaper, yet it’s disarming in a way that leaves you weak-kneed with a heavy tongue.

“H-huh?” comes your foolish reply. You would kick yourself for how lovestruck you sound. 

Your king chuckles, a genuine sound reserved for hushed moments like these, tucked away from the prying eyes of his court. Your lips twitch before a slender finger pokes the space between your eyes, dispelling the dreamlike fog that once loomed overhead.

“I asked,” poke, “if you,” poke, “are feeling,” poke, “alright? You look a bit flustered.”

You swat his hand like an enraged feline, to which he chuckles, all manner of refinement thrown to the wolves. He’s as bratty as ever, a reflection of that child you once knew who’d shove you off the hill to be king of it. Who knew he’d grow to take an entire kingdom onto his shoulders?

You clear the phlegm from your throat, taking a step back, haughtiness meddling with your features as his hand falls listlessly at his side.

“I’m fine, Majesty. Though I’d be better if someone learned to keep his hands to himself.”

The monarch in question feigns innocence, blinking owlishly, a dramatic hand splayed over his heart. “What? I thought you liked it when I badgered you like this. When I kept you on your toes.”

You scowl, crossing your arms and impatiently tapping your foot. “Not when it borders sexual harassment. Need I remind you of your briefings, sir? Should we revisit them?”

He sputters, mortification descending on his face. You bite back a snicker. He’s much too handsome like this—playful, boyish, unguarded. An affectionate smile crests over his mouth when you let a bewitchingly sweet laugh slip. He takes a step forward, swaddling you in prickly static, dwarfing you by a good foot. Your traitorous heart thumps something wild, threatening to leap from your chest as the mirth melts from your face.  

“Would you believe that woman came to try to coerce me into taking her daughter’s hand?” rasps your king, voice descending into a secret. 

You swallow, staring between his eyes, unconsciously leaning back. You nod when words fail you. Bristle as a set of spindly fingers creep down your forearm in pursuit of your hand, scorching through the fibers of your coat.  

Your breath catches whilst His Majesty brings your hand to his lips, and he kisses it with as much fervor as he did in the gardens. It’s a simple gesture. An innocent one that feels perverse in a way, burning down to your core, the molten heat creeping back up to take residence in your neck and face.

“The only hand I wish to hold,” he smooths his thumb over the notches of your knuckles like a blind mind committing their texture to memory, “is this one.” Another brush of full lips makes you wince as if branded by hot iron. 

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Not with him so close, nor with the potency of his gaze drilling down to your soul. You wonder if he’s trying to kill you when he tugs you to him, a possessive hand falling to your hip. 

Whatever oxygen was left in your lungs abandons you in a sharp gasp, making way for a pleasant fuzziness and overwhelming heat. He snakes his arm around your waist before dipping you like the pair of you are waltzing, and your hand instinctively clasps around his shoulder to keep you from crumbling to the floor.  

Hooded eyes pan in, filling your vision with nothing but a beautiful wash of red. His stare centers in on your mouth, and he leans closer until your breaths intermingle, and your limbs feel like jelly, and you’re lightheaded, and…and—

You screw your eyes shut, pushing your palms against his catastrophically hard chest. He’s a dream forged by the Gods. Temptation sent to lure you astray.

“Majesty,” you gasp. You sound so incredibly pitiful, so breathless, and it makes you sick. “Majesty, please. You can’t—we can’t—” You twist your head, pillow-soft lips grazing your cheek instead of your mouth, pleasant tingles of sensation humming throughout your body.

“Can’t what?” he breathes, voice strained with the effort of containing himself whilst he roots his nose against the tender space behind your ear. He draws you closer against the hard press of his body whilst nosing along your jaw, ingesting the warm scent wafting off your skin.  

Your shoulder throbs beneath your uniform where two raw indentations reside. They’ve never truly healed after two years, the pain announcing itself in intimate quarters like this with your king. It’s a reminder of your anchor to him, to what truly lives beneath his skin. 

“The maids, the guards. What if—” You scramble for every excuse not to give in. Not to betray the oath you took to protect him. To always put him first, to never fall for him. “—what if someone sees us, Majesty?”

A bitten-off, barely there growl cleaves through your ramblings. Lithe fingers encase your jaw, coaxing you to look at your charge. A glacial thrill shoots through your body at the sight that greets you. White, mussed hair falls perfectly into his face, lips parted and glistening invitingly, eyes wrinkling with a mixture of anguish and yearning. He reminds you of something beastly, fighting to reign in his instincts. Fighting not to lose control. 

“You’ve known me for however long, yet you insist on calling me that.” 

He gathers your cheek into his pleasantly warm palm, angling your neck further back. You fight to keep your eyes open, your fingers curling into the fabric of his blazer. You’re spilling over the edge. Teetering over that blurry line between daydreams and reality. 

“Majesty this, Your Majesty that.” Scoff. “Is this your way of shutting me out? Pushing me away?”

You haven’t the gall to tell him yes, too distracted by the flats of his nails dragging along your cheek, sweeping errant hair strands behind your ear. You shudder, and he pans in, your mouths but a whisker’s width apart.  

“If you carry on like this, I may have to punish you for your insolence.”

You suck in a breath at the underlying threat in his voice. Know it carries no weight. He’d never lay a finger on you outside of affection. But how wonderful it sounds, to be punished for your insubordination. 

Your noses brush, mouths ghosting over each other whilst careful fingers curl around your nape, scrawling through your hair. You fear that you might faint, the heat spooling in your belly threatening to burn through layers of flesh. You’re clutching the lapels of his jacket for dear life now. Torturing yourself, wanting to conquer what little space remains between your mouths and—

Forbidden. The accursed word echoes in your mind like the weighted chime of a church bell. It resounds so miserably in your mind, reminding you of your place. Your duty. You’re no noblewoman. No contender for his heart. 

“Please don’t,” you utter between a laugh and a sob. Begging is unbecoming of you, but when it comes to protecting your king and his crown, you would fall to your knees if you had to.

A pained sound tears through His Majesty’s chest, crackling like a hearth fire. You feel terrible for denying him again. For pushing him away like you always do. But many women regularly throw themselves at his feet, willing to ease his affliction—women of noble blood, of virtue. 

Grief furrows his brows, his eyes sweeping over your face. A forlorn smile touches his lips. He exhales loudly, shakily, his thumb cruising over the outward arc of your brow, his gaze tracking the gentle movement. 

“Of everything that resides within these walls, within this kingdom, you manage to elude me the most.” 

His eyes snap to yours, and you shiver beneath the weight they boast. He could easily flex his power over you. Command you to stay still while he ravages you. But that’s never been his style, has it? Another trait of his drawing you deeper into his spell. 

“Why do you run from me? Why do you continue to deny me? Why continue to deny yourself? I hear how your body calls to me. Your heartbeat, your scent. So ripe. So untainted.” 

The exasperation in his voice makes your stomach lurch. 

I’m not denying anyone, you wish to say. I just…I don’t know. I don’t—

“Where in the hells is he?!” a familiar voice ricochets through the empty hallway—your saving grace. Seems his advisor is on a rampage again. You’ve never wanted to kiss the stoutly man more.

“Impeccable timing as always,” sighs your king, rolling his eyes. He reluctantly releases you, his hands at his waist until your legs remember they are meant to support you. 

Just as you spring apart, smoothing out the wrinkles of your uniform, your hair spills in warm tendrils down your neck, puddling around your shoulders, water-falling from its usual updo. 

You blink incredulously, taking note of the impish smirk canting the king’s lips. Something silver gleams in your periphery. You watch with horror as he twirls your hairpin between dexterous fingers before bringing the warm, tarnished metal to his lips for a kiss. It’s an intimate sight. An image that makes a shiver wrack your spine, and you don’t know whether to be disgusted or flattered. 

“Y-Your Majesty, give that back!”

The monarch in question chuckles something smoky, dangling the ornate pin out of reach when you swipe at it. He has an unfair advantage over you. You contemplate kicking him, figuring the risk of losing your foot is well worth it. 

Your breasts scrub against him as you struggle on tippy toes, clawing at your hairpin with the ferocity of a cat. And as your nipples knot beneath the rough glide of your uniform, you are reminded of the devastating press of His Majesty’s body. By the Gods, it’s too much. You’re sure your face is all types of flustered now, heat spuming beneath your skin.

“My, my. Throwing yourself at your king like this. How scandalous,” he purrs, enjoying your plight a little too much. His twisted way of getting revenge. 

“Your Majesty, that is my mother’s,” you pant with beseeching eyes. 

He clicks his tongue, studying the pin. “That makes the spoils of victory that much sweeter.”

You watch with puffed up cheeks as he tucks the hairpin into his breast pocket, the jaded metal gleaming condescendingly at you. 

“Consider it collateral.”

For what, you haven’t the foggiest. 

With all the smugness of the world, your king brushes past you, his hands in his pockets. You stomp behind him, fighting to keep stride with his longer ones, clawing at his pocket when a moment presents itself. 

You try to sweep your hair into some semblance of neatness before the pair of you meet his advisor. Before curious eyes can form questions where there should be none. 

You hardly miss the enamored smile rounding his lips as he peers at you over his shoulder. 

“You lunatic,” you admonish beneath your breath, barely concealing the hint of fondness lancing through your voice.

— 

It all makes sense as you shackle his neck with a rusted collar. You can count on one hand how often you’ve had to do this in the past year. 

You step back after sliding your fingers over the stubble on his cheeks. His eyes harbor a deep sadness despite the smirk on his face, baring a pointed canine. 

“What? No muzzle this time?”

You scoff, kneeling before him, defiantly peering into his eyes, a harsh forefinger pressed between his pectorals. “If you keep talking, I’ll have one of the twins fetch it from the car.”

He chuckles at your brazenness. Leave it to him to try to lighten the mood in an atmosphere rife with tension. Thick with urgency, with fear. He tests the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, ensuring they won’t give too much when they’re put to the test later.

As if on autopilot, you reach out to ease sweat-slicked hair from his forehead, and he pauses, those brilliantly devastating eyes drinking you in. 

He swallows, studying the ground. For the first time in a long time, you’ve seen true fear stain your king’s visage. 

“One day, I won’t leave this cage as the man you know and love.”

You scoff, masking your anxiety as you placatingly pat his thigh. You stand, swiping his coat on the way up, dust speckling its sleeves. You have to be strong. You’re slowly falling apart at the seams but must remain fearless. He needs all the strength you can lend him right now.

You give him a quick look, a brief upward pull of your lips, before turning away from your king, the cage’s heavy door squealing shut behind you. You err in your steps when he calls your name. Slightly tilt your chin over your shoulder.

“When that day comes, I expect you to uphold your end of the bargain.”

Your grip on his coat tightens, jaw set in a terse line. “That day will never come,” you murmur, more to yourself than him, and you hurry up the sand-laden stairs towards the structure’s entrance. 

The twins address you with curt nods as you pass them on your way to the car. Night and soaring evergreens stretch overhead like a yawning beast. The moon peers through the treetops, sluggishly cresting its way to the center of the sky.

You sling His Majesty’s coat across the backseat. Stiffen when a familiar glint of silver catches your sight from behind his breast pocket. You grit your teeth, leaning against the car door to grant yourself a moment of respite.

“How do you stand this? Does it ever get any easier?” you recall Tara asking, her eyes glossing over with a thin film of tears as she squeezed your hands. 

She was still fresh to this lifestyle. To this harrowing secret lurking beneath the kingdom. You couldn’t blame her for being scared witless. No one wanted to see the king in pain. Only a handful of people knew of his true nature. What bubbled beneath his skin. 

It never does, you think, pushing off from the car and slamming the door shut. 

Your boots crunch soundly over dead grass and splintered twigs as you make your way back to the twins. You squeeze Kieran’s shoulder reassuringly, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He nods, his somberness hidden beneath the gaudy beak of his mask. 

It never gets easier, hearing him scream like that. Hearing him call to you in a voice so desperate, you feel it’s talons sinking into your heart. You’ve just grown more skilled at hiding your pain. Holding back your tears.

What use are you if you can’t even protect your liege from himself?

— tags: @f1c-recs, @mt2sssss, @samoankpoper21, @lovemesomesaltysylus

prologue | masterlist

[asterafroditis]

Hey there !

Hope you have a great day/afternoon/night.

I was wondering if you could write how floyd, rook and jamil would react to a reader that is caring and playful but can be stubborn and impulsive when frustrated or angry, acting on her strong will without always thinking ahead.

You can add things if you feel like it too.

Thanks ❤️

𐔌 . ⋮ reckless resolve .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Floyd, Rook, & Jamil x gn! reader (separate)

𓏵 823 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

hope this exactly caters to your request! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Floyd would find your stubbornness hilarious—at least, at first. He’s the type to get a kick out of watching you dig your heels in, especially when you’re arguing with someone. If it’s a harmless situation, he’ll egg you on, adding fuel to the fire just to see how far you’ll go. He might even purposefully annoy you, pushing your buttons until you snap just because he enjoys seeing that spark of determination in your eyes.

But the second your impulsiveness leads to actual trouble? That’s when his amusement shifts to irritation. If you try to pick a fight, rush headfirst into danger, or ignore warnings, Floyd won’t hesitate to physically stop you. He’s freakishly strong, so all it takes is one arm slung around your shoulders—or throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes—to completely ruin whatever reckless plan you had.

Still, Floyd isn’t the type to sit you down for a serious talk. If you’re getting too worked up, he’s more likely to distract you than lecture you, using teasing, nicknames, or even just dragging you away for a "fun detour." But if things get really bad? If you actually get hurt because you weren’t thinking ahead? His usual playful demeanor disappears, replaced by something more dangerous—something angry.

“Ehehe, Shrimpy, you’re real funny when you get all mad like that~ But if you go bitin’ off more than you can chew, I will have to step in, ‘kay?”

"Hah? You’re not listenin’ to me? Fine then~ But don’t start cryin’ when I gotta carry ya outta trouble."

─────────────────────────

Rook adores your fiery spirit. He finds beauty in the way you stand your ground, in the passion that fuels your playful and caring nature. Even when your stubbornness makes you act without thinking, he doesn’t get frustrated—rather, he sees it as another fascinating layer of your character. You remind him of a wild creature, untamed and free, and he takes great delight in observing how you handle challenges.

That being said, Rook is not blind to the dangers of impulsiveness. He knows there are times when acting on raw emotion can backfire, and when that happens, he’s always nearby—watching, waiting. He doesn’t interfere immediately. Instead, he lets you handle things on your own, stepping in only at the last possible moment to prevent catastrophe. And when he does step in, it’s always with an air of effortless grace, as if he had predicted the outcome all along.

Rather than scolding you, Rook prefers to guide you with poetic wisdom and strategic redirection. He won’t tell you outright to stop being reckless, but he will make you think about your choices, presenting them in a way that turns your own stubbornness into a strength rather than a flaw. He enjoys challenging you, pushing you to grow—not by force, but by intrigue.

“Ah, ma chérie/mon chéri, such fire! Such spirit! But do not let your passion burn so brightly that it blinds you to the dangers ahead, non?”

"Do you know what makes a true hunter? Not just passion, but patience. Strategy. Foresight. And you, my dear, have all the makings of a formidable one—if only you learn when to pause and take aim."

─────────────────────────

Jamil finds your impulsiveness exhausting. He’s spent his entire life carefully planning, always thinking two steps ahead, ensuring everything runs smoothly without drawing too much attention. So when he sees you completely disregarding consequences and diving headfirst into trouble? It stresses him out.

At first, he tries to handle it logically. He warns you, explains the risks, tries to reason with you. But the more you brush off his concerns, the more irritated he becomes. Jamil doesn’t like dealing with unnecessary problems, and your recklessness is a perfect recipe for disaster. If you insist on charging forward without thinking, he’ll force you to stop—either by physically restraining you or by outsmarting you so that you have no choice but to listen.

However, deep down, Jamil understands you more than he lets on. There’s a part of him that respects your determination, your strong will—after all, he knows what it’s like to want to break free, to refuse to be controlled. He just wishes you’d be more careful about it. He hates seeing you get hurt, even if he’d never admit how much it bothers him.

"Honestly, do you ever stop to think before jumping into things? …Tch. Fine. If you’re going to be reckless, at least let me make sure you don’t get yourself killed."

“You’re stubborn. I get that. But if you must act on impulse, at least have the sense to cover your own weaknesses. No one’s going to save you if you don’t think ahead.”

[strungnews]

Being in a polycule with Mark Grayson and Eve Wilkins is weird.

The two never really thought about it, hell, never really thought about anyone else romantically besides each other. They are quite literally, a power couple! But at the same time how could they fall in love with someone who they all got bad first impressions from?

(Fair warning I started rambling about this on the 22nd and ive been distracted with other content so it might be inaccurate and not up to date with the new upcoming eps! Sorry! 4k+ words oof)

When did you first meet?

Mark Grayson: First spotted at the convention, where you served as a temporary helping hand to one of your close friends who ran a free fix it portable station that helped aid costume malfunctions for cosplayers. You were a jack of all trades and a master of none. An average grade student, who participated as little and as much activities as one felt like, nothing really piquing your interest at any capacity to fully commit to it. Badminton, swim team, volleyball, chess, journalism, art, sewing. The talents and passion you had for it all were mediocre at best, but useful when the situation called for it.

Need an extra player in your team? You won't willingly volunteer, but if there was no other choice, so be it. Someone needing help on their swim technique? You've gotten more ear infections than you could count all because of swimming, several visits to the doctor and ear drops used. But an advice or two wouldn't hurt.

It just so happened you held a bit of liking to sewing, and with reluctance agreed to your friend's pleas of help for the upcoming convention day. You weren't really looking forward to helping around people who forgot to wear deodorant or were in desperate need of a shower, but he said you were splitting the tips by the end of the day. Money is money.

Mark would someyimes notice you here and there, carrying a huge clunky bag while assisting to anyone you could offer a hand to, but other than that, he said and did nothing else. He was more worried about the line for the Seance dog signing and Amber to properly pay attention. But couldn’t help gravitate towards you for some reason.

Though he does give credit where credit was due, between you and your close friend, you were a lot faster with the needle than he was. And you were only doing this for a day! But he didn't know that. Mark wouldn't lie, but he did find himself leaning over and away to look closer at your handy work whenever someone would happily walk away, almost catching his eye whenever you felt like you were being stared at more intensely than the individual you were fixing up.

His first ever person to person interaction was tainted by Mark getting distracted at the crowd of people dressed up as Invincible, before almost falling over himself and you. The supply of items you had just packed up all nice and neat now lay scattered all over the floor, going back to square one.

"Oh! Im so so sorry let me just-" "Thank you, but don't." You swat away his helping hand and turn your back to him. There he stands awkwardly, watching you silently pick up the pieces, his hand rubbing at his neck in guilt. The way you glared and spoke to him might as well had burned holes into his head till he had nothing resting atop his shoulders but charred remains.

You just ended up shoving everything back into place out of pure irritation before storming off, not sparing Mark a glance, not wanting to bother acknowledging him and getting angry for no reason.

He never noticed that you went to the same school as him before that whole interaction. All of a sudden it was like you were spawning everywhere he went, and you were non the wiser about it.

Whenever he'd walk with William and Amber, you'd be somewhere secluded with something to occupy yourself or just talking to that one guy you seemed close with. Even at the cafeteria, where you would be surrounded by people he had never seen you around with. Mostly tolerating their presence by the looks of it, only there because you were friends with one of them. Then you'd also started to hang out with Eve, which made him even more curious about you. Was Eve close with you? What was your relationship with her? Maybe he was getting a bit too nosy. Eve Wilkins: It was a lot harder to grab Eve's attention, even unintentionally. She's a busy gal, always handling this world crisis here and another there, she mostly has to focus time for herself and heroing than the people around her when she's just being Eve the student.

College wasn't all that hard for her, she was great at science and other subjects alike, a top student, Eve is.

But you weren't. In fact you were almost failing her favorite subjects. Numbers shmumbers, you hated it. And unfortunately for her, you were dumped on top of her already full plate unceremoniously when she had been pulled aside by one of the professors.

She didn't want to take it, but she didn't want a fellow student to fail a class she thought was so easy. So she hesitantly agreed, biting more than she could chew.

The event for the both of you was stressful to say the least. She was frustratingly ambiguous about her time and schedule, which clashed with your want to be punctuational, keeping interactions simply transactional. This was both stressful and moreso awkward for the two of you to go through. Eve wished you were a fast learner, but you were failing classes that involved numbers for a reason. Ouch.

Several pensive and forced smiles in the discomfort of your dorm room, each time you were told to start over or why you got this and that as an answer and formula was helping a migrane slowly develop the more time passes. She was trying her best, she really was. And you were too, you both can see the strained effort you two had put in. But by god the process was going by slow.

More breaks would occur than actual learning, before you caved and gave in first.

"I'm never getting this, am I?" Falling back to your mattress with a stiff bounce, you close your eyes and put an arm over them. Hand clenched, nails digging into the palm of your hand.

"Well, you're making progress. As slow as it is at least." You can appreciate how she still has the courtesy to be nice and sugarcoat it, but that was just making you all the more resentful of the situation.

"I just- I dont get it! How do you get this from that?" Quickly sitting up to point accusingly at the paper that lies on your soft cushions, its crumpled and dented with the amount of times you had to erase with shavings of it not too far beside.

"It's hypothetical, thats why we have assigned formulas." Eve pinches the bridge of her nose. She's exhausted and just wishes she could crash at her bed. But even the trip to the treehouse seemed tiresome to do, now contemplating if it was the best course of action to live there.

"Yes, I know! But-ugh." It feels useless, putting your hands up in defeat. "At least with science you can tell what you actually need to use. Math is all 'use your common sense', well i'm trying." Muttered through gritted teeth, you close the abused books and notebooks scattered on the bed.

It was a unified agreement to take a break and go out for a little while and get grub, blowing steam off in the process.

This goes on for two weeks, and gradually progress begins to show. You're making more sense of the subject and are putting pieces together easily than before, which used to be nothing. It was going at a snails pace, but progress is progress!

A small surprise quiz had popped up, and you answered the questions with a keen eye. Double checking, using the memorization methods Eve basically drilled into your head, a wavering air of confidence around you as you wrote.

The time for grading happened all too soon, exchanging papers to whomever was closest to you, checking one another's work before passing it back and receiving your own. Here came and greeted an unbelievably high score plastered in red ink on your paper, reading a 16/20.

You almost cried in joy with how surreal it was. It may just be a simple quiz to the others, but this was practically a milestone to you. The news was given to her, and you both felt lighter knowing you finally had it handled. As a cause for celebration, you decided to lounge in your bed and just have a time for yourself, no longer plagued with the tutors. Coming in the whole situation with Eve filled with dread, and coming out with a feeling of self reassurance.

Your time spent with Eve decreased the more time went on, which you were a bit sad about. Having considered her as a friend, but knew it was inevitable. School work is still work.

On occasion she and you would just text, maybe ask for help whether it be math or personal things, or just to reply to a stupid cat video one of you sent.

Eve did begin to notice you became a lot more confident in answering and volunteering in class, and she felt proud for you.

Meet up!

Burgermart seemed to be more sensational than before, ever since Mark decided to quit.

The place isn't as packed as other foodchain restaurants would usually be, but it seems a lot more crowded than what Mark was used to.

It was his to go to place even though he’ll be met with a few familiar faces working behind the counter, but nothing too bad.

He waits in line, orders his usual, and walks to his unofficial spot that Mark likes to sit at. Only to already be occupied with a friendly face he has met, and another not so much.

Based on the confusion on yours it’s safe to say you probably don’t remember him. Probably. Hopefully.

“Mark! Fancy seeing you here,” The two exchange hugs while you awkwardly watch, biting on your greasy burger unashamedly.

You and Eve move to the corner of each of your booths, and decidedly Mark sits next to you instead. A flash of hurt goes over her face, but disappears as soon as it came.

They’d chatter and munch on the fries left over from the burger platter of Eve’s plate, only humming noncommittally whenever you’d be dragged into the conversation, but said nothing else. Not wanting to butt in their conversation, so mulled over on why this guy’s face felt so familiar to you. But nothing pops up.

Everyone finishes up and after a few minutes all of you are standing to leave. Cleaning just a little but after yourselves to not seem rude when the workers clean up.

“I never really got your name.” Mark suddenly shifts his attention to you as the three of you walk out to the parking lot. Its already afternoon, making the weather warm a little.

“I never really gave it.” You reply back. In your head, you justify your response by chalking it up to not really knowing the guy. Sure he’s Mark, Eve’s supposed friend. But what else? What happened to stranger danger?

Eve doesn’t seem to pick up on that, and or doesn’t share the same sentiment, enthusiastically coming in to respond for you. “Remember when I said I was busy tutoring someone? Yeah? Well they’re said someone.”

“You talked about me?”

“Well, just the good bits . . . !”

Shame, embarrassment, you wish the world could swallow you up right then and there.

But you steel yourself, making sure to not make eye contact helping avoid digging your already deep grave. “Better be, or ill tell him the time you tore a hole through the papers when-“

“Okay! Okay! I get it! I promise, it wasn’t anything bad!” Her flustered state makes you laugh, slowly warming up to the both of them.

“I heard you got a high score that one time, man I wish I did too. I kind of flunked the quiz.”

“Maybe you should ask them to tutor you. They’re kind of a math whiz now dontcha think?”

The wink wink nudge nudge could not have been any more subtle.

“Shut up.”

What happens next?

So many new things in your life changed and occurred, both terrifying and exciting.

One of them was being introduced to the friend group that seemed to be ever expanding the more times you hang out with them. William was a hoot, he felt like the most normal person you could relate to. Amber was ambitious, a kind person who already had her shit figured out. And Mark? Well, hes a dweeb and a mess.

Even though you’ve been adopted into the new stray friend, you always gravitated to Eve more. She was the first person you really bothered to hold more than one sentence with. Albeit a bit forced.

Then the whole human robots occurred, you wish you could say you were there to be of help or even lend a hand, but you were dead asleep for the most part. Too busy holed up in your dorm room with work to fully enjoy the almost-adult, adult life.

Then Mark reveals his super hero persona to you, and so does Eve.

“How many know?”

“Oh, hun.” Eve puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re like, the last person to know. Everyone in the group practically already know.”

“What.”

You feel bitter but view them no more or less. Only asking to be taken flying at least once by one of them in exchange.

“THIS IS AWESOME!”

“Calm down I might drop you!” Eve is not surprised nor all that glad you asked her first, but feels a bit cocky about it. Another tally on whose the best super between her and Mark. Not that anyone’s counting.

★彡

It seems the two can’t catch a break. Mark especially.

Everyone’s there for Mark after the whole incident, and to further supporting his now semi-fixed relationship with Amber.

You can sense something about Eve though, but don’t pry. The way she looks at the two or how she tries to just hang out with you more to ‘get her mind off of things’ at her tree house, it was quite the tell.

“You know you can tell me anything that’s bothering you, and I wouldn’t judge you. Right?”

Eve hands a glass of soda, bubbling from the carbon dioxide. She sighs and says nothing, only opting to lean and look at the view overlooking the place.

“I know.”

Despite not being a super or wicked smart, you’re not stupid. You are Eve’s only confidant, even if you don’t get it, you sympathize with her.

Its one thing after the other with Mark and Eve. Mark comes back home with a purple baby, Eve focuses more on her studies to be an architect, things get messed up, and the secrecy continues.

Mark doesn’t get too deep into it, only ever talking to Eve about topics as heavy as that. So many . . . Events has conspired. You’re helpless to do anything to help soothe the bleeding wound. Eve says Mark just needs time, but you both know it’s not true. So, being the ever so genius you are, you offer a sleep over.

It’s a much appreciated and comforting sentiment for the whole family, they’re not sure if they want to be alone after what had conspired. But they also say nothing, keeping their mouths zipped tight.

A movie starts to play, a few hours had already passed ever since you and Eve rang the doorbell. Everyone’s huddled up at the couch, with Oliver sat in Marks lap, now crawling to Eve before reaching you at the end of the couch.

“Looks like he likes you.” Mark sounds so tired when he speaks, it’s a lot more quiet than when he usually talks, but Eve only nods in agreement.

“Yeah, babies like me for some reason. Even if I’m not a fan. But I guess since it’s Oliver..” He pulls and tugs at your clothes in curiosity, before harshly sitting himself on your stomach to face the tv. You let out an ‘oof’, which Mark and Eve laugh.

The tv plays, but its practically static to Mark’s ears, as he speaks again.

“I broke up with Amber.”

★彡

Having to be the middle of the two sided coin, you were forced to listen to the two’s complaints about one another’s crush. You wish you could just pull your hair out to get some semblance of relief with how its eating at you alive. At least William knocked some further sense into him when Mark confided in them after asking you first.

Eve? Well, she was busy. Like always.

But it was Mark this, architect that, Mark and Oliver, all that fun jazz. You couldn’t visit as often as Eve could, so she’d like to give updates.

Sometimes you feel like they’re so close to getting there, so close, until you get caught between the two again at the treehouse, seeking some you and her time till Mark showed up.

Something something future Eve, something something oh my fucking god Mark you’re screwing this up!

They both leave due to an emergency, leaving you there isolated at the treehouse.

“Great, guess ill just jump down and walk my way to the campus then!” You shout to nobody in particular.

Its about time!

Finally, the two got together.

No party no celebration, nothing big or grand. Just a small text of congratdolences, because she had to deal with Mark foreverrrr. Until an inevitable break up. Which will never happen.

Their relationship started off a bit fast, a bit rocky, but still stable. Still being at college and not possessing super human abilities, you would often video call and or gossip to them when they had the time. Catching up a lot more on things everyone would miss out since it felt like everyone lived in on different worlds.

You’d make William join in too, considering besides Eve, you were really close. But oh goodness, oh my word, he got caught up talking to his dearly beloved Rick and therefore forgot to reply!

Okay that may be a little exaggerated, but what can you do? Separated by the three people you were super close with in the span of half a year, you were getting clingy.

“Ugh, Will come on. This is the third time we’re hosting a small food get together without you, you can even bring Rick!” You’d complain while lying on your stomach in front of your laptop. Toiling away at your textbooks.

“How’s it feel to third wheel with the super couple? And plus, its finally a friday! I haven’t gotten a break in what feels like ages. Me and Rick are planning on staying in and having a movie night and falling asleep on the couch.”

“Barf. Rick this, Rick that, blah blah blah. You were so interesting when you were single!”

“Well sorry you’re the only one who’s single in the friend group.”

“Hey!”

Maybe you were a third wheel. Constantly hanging around Eve and Mark whenever they’d offer or whenever you had free time, you felt embarrassed. Especially now that you’re helping them look for an apartment —or house even— that they could possibly afford.

Being an expert in assessing many things in your life, of course your help was well needed.

“What about this one?”

“Looks… well..” Mark squints at the photo, giving it a slight once over before pursing his lips. Arms brushing up against yours as he crosses his arms and legs in faux thought.

“I know, it’s tacky, right? But I didn’t know if that was your guys’ style.” You click away to another tab, showing the place and its living conditions, plus the added bonuses it has around the areas. Nearby markets, easy access to vehicles if wanted, and a bit isolated so they went get caught super-ing.

“You saying we’re tacky?”

Ignoring Mark’s comment to your right, you shift your attention to Eve. “How about this one?”

“It’s a bit too good to be true, hows the rent?” Eve sets down on Mark’s bed with a slight bounce, leaning over to your left to sandwich you with Mark.

“Yeah about that.” You suck in hair between your teeth and move the screen as an answer, and she merely scrunches her nose.

“Man. Adulting is hard.” Mark leans his head with a thud on his headboard, before it slowly slides to the side, hovering just slightly on your shoulder.

“Tell me about it. I had to pick between saving up for the ride home or saving the cash for food.” You reply absent mindedly, tapping away at the screen with an occasional click of the laptop’s track pad.

“Imagine if you guys had another human being to deal with while you’re still trying to get your shit together? Yikes.” Shaking your head at the thought of it, makes your bones heavy with fatigue.

But Mark and Eve look over to one another with a shared look of confusion. Another person? As in . . . You’re not implying that are you?

They take you back to your campus but not before saying bye to Oliver. Even though he was just a year old, he already grew as big as a toddler. Wanting to hang out with you despite barely talking or even knowing him. It was like a baby duckling imprinting.

But Mark and Eve can’t help but think about what you said on their way home. Another person? It seems like a bit much. No?

They were already quite content on having each other, they didn’t know if the other was comfortable about the prospect of it all. But wasn’t opposite to it either.

So for now, they’d decided to tip toe around it instead.

A puzzling piece

Ever since that visit, the two have been a lot more touchy feely with you.

You dont mind honestly, chalking it up to them being a lot more friendly towards you and nothing else. Nothing more.

William and Rick start to notice too, after finally having everyone’s schedules align once in a blue moon and going out to just have some fun. They’d practically crowd you like body guards, and William and Rick would just watch, snickering to one another.

At times you do get suspicious. Eve holding your arm as you walked was nothing new, but when Mark started to initiate more physical contact with you, you’d spiral.

Of course Mark was hot, hell, Eve was too! Those were simply just facts, your best friends were attractive as hell. Who doesn’t admit that to themselves from time to time? But theyre off limits. They have each other, and you’re just you! No offense.

You couldn’t help raise a questioning brow when Mark and Eve started sitting away from each other in exchange of you being in the middle of them. Bumping shoulders, arms brushing up, hands on your back, or hair tucked behind your ear. It felt overwhelming.

So you confide in William and Rick on their behavior, receiving cryptic responses rather than actual answers instead.

“Are Eve and Mark being weird?” You’d ask, passing over your bag of chips to Rick while sucking on your straw.

“I think they’re being very obvious.” William answers dismissively waving his hand.

“Obvious? About what?”

“Oh you know, right Rick?” And he just shrugs with an awkward smile in response.

“Well has Mark said anything? Eve’s just been . . . Normal, I guess? But feels like they’re keeping something from me too.”

“Yeah, sure. Ill tell you if Mark says anything. Wink wink.” William says out loud rather than literally.

“Okay?”

Seeing as they were no help, you finally grew some and talked to Eve about it privately. No Mark, no Atom Eve or Invincible, just you and her in the a lot sturdier and built treehouse of hers.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Well, no.”

You spill your guts out to her, not looking in her general direction the whole time so you can actually let out the words you want to say rather than awkwardly fumbling and mumbling to yourself.

It seems Eve feels the same way, opting to look out rather than meet your own gaze. Picking at her nails at the same time.

“Do you remember when you were helping us look for apartments to live in? Before we ditched that plan and decided not to?”

“Yes . . ?”

“Then you mentioned something about another person being in our lives?”

“Another person? Since when?”

“Since when you showed us that great place! But was too out of our budget.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well we thought. . . You were . . .”

It takes a few moments for you to make sense of it all, till Eve reaches to hold out your hand and it clicks.

“I meant having a kid! You know, white picket fence and all that!” Your face is practically hot enough to cook an egg on with her admittance.

She clears things up before Mark pops up all of a sudden. Not taking the hint of yours and Eve’s current state and inviting himself in.

“Where were you? I texted you that an hour ago and I still had no response. I got worried.”

“Crap, I think I forgot to hit send.”

Mark gets caught up in the current news, and feels like he’s made a fool of himself. Him and Eve are silently but not very subtly having a conversation about you in loud hushed whispers. Their backs turned to you and they’re holding each other’s hand in reassurance.

“Im not—Im not opposed to it though.” You say quietly, a bit hesitant to break up their conversation.

“Really?” They say in unison, perking up like excited puppies.

“I mean! If you guys’ll have me, that is.”

“We’ve been flirting with you for the past couple of months, I think we’re more than happy to.”

“You’ve been flirting?!”

“Yes, for months.”

Maybe in the near future the three of you could live in that house you found, just the three of you.

a/n: ahh i kinda hate and love this but im done so whatever just take it from me TAKE IT

btw id love to hear your thoughts and questions about this or just invincible in general teehee! planning on writing more ;P

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭

The lunch break had turned into something of a local tradition. Over the past couple of years, the businesses in the area would organise a lunchtime basketball competition. It was a mix of friendly rivalry and office bonding, and she had grown accustomed to watching Luke play from the sidelines, enjoying the rare moments where she could escape her desk and see her fiancé.

This time, Luke had made her somewhat of a promise. “If we win this week, I’ll take the missus out this Saturday, yeah?” he had teased, tossing a basketball up and down in his hand. His tone was light, but it was clear that he was hoping for some extra attention after weeks of busy schedules.

She smiled, watching him warm up with the others. “It’s a deal,” she said, trying to seem enthusiastic, even if the promises Luke made often seemed to disappear into thin air.

Matt was playing on the other team. She had always admired how he never seemed to take anything too seriously, even in the middle of a game. His movements were effortless, and he had a way of observing everything, staying just a little apart from the chaos of the game. He’d always been this way, a little bit quiet, but you could feel the energy around him, like something was brewing beneath the surface.

The game began, and Luke and Matt’s competitive natures clashed almost immediately. Luke, always the one to joke and keep things light, found himself starting to get more aggressive, pushing harder against Matt, maybe even a little too hard. Matt’s responses, though, were sharp, calculated, a quick sidestep here, a little nudge there. It was clear the tension between them was building. She kept her eyes on them, unsure of how to read the situation.

By the end of the game, Luke’s team had narrowly won, thanks to a questionable foul against Matt that had the entire office murmuring. Matt looked annoyed, his jaw tight as he held an ice pack to his nose. Her stomach flipped at the sight. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of concern. Matt’s face was usually so calm, so controlled, but right now, the tension in his posture told her something had gotten under his skin.

Luke, on the other hand, was grinning ear-to-ear, throwing a triumphant arm around one of his teammates, oblivious to Matt’s discomfort.

“We did it!” Luke cheered, his voice full of false cheer as a smile crept onto her face at the thought of their promised date. “Looks like we’re going out this weekend, babe!”

Her excitement flickered. Maybe this time it would be different. Maybe Luke would follow through on his promise, actually take her out somewhere nice for once. She smiled back at Luke, but the image of Matt wincing as he adjusted the ice pack lingered in her mind. There was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes as she glanced between the two, trying to ignore the unease that settled in her chest.

It was Monday morning before she could even bring herself to think about the weekend. The date that Luke had promised didn’t exactly go as planned. He’d been tired, distracted, and despite his earlier excitement, the night had ended with a few too many takeout containers and lackluster intimacy.

She’d tried not to let it bother her, but the truth was hard to ignore. Her expectations had been high, higher than they probably should have been, but they’d still been let down. When she walked into the office Monday morning, she found Matt glancing at her harder than usual. His eyes were a little too perceptive, as always, and today, they seemed to linger.

“How’d the date go?” Matt asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that familiar teasing smile. His tone was light, but there was something in the way he asked that made her pause.

She hesitated for a moment, forcing herself to keep it casual. “Oh, it was fine,” she said, shrugging it off. “Nothing special, you know?”

Matt’s brow furrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms over his chest, as if weighing her words. “Nothing special, huh?” he repeated. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, concern, maybe, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “You seemed pretty excited about it on Friday.”

She smiled, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well... sometimes things don’t go as planned.”

The silence between them hung in the air for a moment. Matt seemed to think for a beat, then smirked, changing the subject. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure Luke and I are about to have a rematch in a couple of weeks,” he said, his voice light, but she noticed the faintest edge to his words.

“Yeah, we’ll see how that goes,” she said, forcing a smile.

“All friendly competition,” he quipped.

As she turned to walk to her desk, she felt Matt’s eyes on her again. His question had been casual, but something about it, something about the way he phrased it, stayed in her mind. It made her realise how little she had shared with Luke recently. How much she’d been hoping for something more, even though she wasn’t sure if she even wanted it.

creds to rose for the dividers !!!!! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: i hope these aren't too boring,, but as yk this is going to be a slow burn sooo

taglist: @sturnshood @blushsturns @mattsstarlet @throatgoat4u @sturnsrecord @applecidersturniolo @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @sosasturns @ifwdominicfike @cheriiboo @sturns-mermaid @solarsturniolo @sturnberries @mattscherries @mattsturnsgirlie @snoopychris @hjvi @loverboysturn @backwardshatnick @priscillaog @ribbonlovergirl @irmantez @corspebridedelrey @and-a-monochrome-vision @pretty-random-writer @ilovebirds17 @snoopymatt @princesspeach0-0 @blahbel668 @marysongohmy @sturnl0ve @heavenlybunnies11 @desreads @chris-hallelujah @courta13 @sweetshuga @pair-of-pantaloons comment to be added to the taglist !

cya soon <3

[cherrycheolkat]

can i request professor cheol for your bingo

hi anon, yes, of course you can - i hope you like him ⋆˙⟡ fr i love writing cheol - couprangs where are you ;-;

♡ kat

bingo square: professor

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

summary: prof. choi has extra sessions with a special student

genre: prof!seungcheol, student!reader, age gap, dark themes

word count: 0.9k

warnings: smut, dark themes, mentions of stalking, age gap, penetrative sex, edging and orgasm denial, humiliation kink (kind of), use of panties as gag, power imbalance, pet names

he was breathing heavily - he refused to allow himself to make sounds during your sessions. his hands grasped your thighs roughly as he stood between them. your knees were hooked over his arms as his fat, leaking cock moved slowly back and forth in controlled motions, and he bit his lip. he was dragging his cock between your naked pussy lips, just barely teasing your clit with every move. he wasn’t watching you - he was staring at the mess he was making out of your cunt.

“it’s astounding how little stimulation you need before you’re practically soaking for me,” he whispered, thrusting a bit harder. you could hear the soft slap of his balls against your ass.

“i’m not even inside you, and you’re dripping for me,” he bit his lip gently, his movements continuing. 

he had already told you that he wasn’t concerned about whether you came this afternoon or not. today’s time was just about him working out his frustrations by making use of your pussy, since you seemed to always be wet for him anyway - his “perfect little cock sleeve.” 

you gasped, the fabric of your wet panties muffling the sound. almost the moment you stepped into his office, he asked for your panties, wanting to know just how wrecked you already were. he normally stuffed them in his pocket - you knew you wouldn’t get them back - they would go in his bottom desk drawer. you sometimes got off in your room thinking about how he used your soiled panties. but today, he had shoved them between your lips, “insurance,” he had whispered against you making any sounds since he planned to take his time - his evening was free. 

“shhh,” he breathed, glancing at you, “i told you, not a sound if you want to come today,” he said sternly. 

you had yet to disprove his theory that you were always wet after his lectures. the very first session you had come to after your abysmal test grade, he had listened to you talk about how you studied and the practice exams - how you thought you were doing well, and then he had suddenly asked if you were distracted in class. you had stared, caught off guard by the odd question.

he had elaborated, “i think you’re problem is that you’re distracted in class - you always seem like you’re paying attention to things other than the material, and squeezing your thighs tight under your desk - i wonder why that is?” he asked.

you had blushed heavily because he wasn’t exactly wrong - you were distracted in class - you couldn’t help that you liked watching him, thinking about him. and it wasn’t your fault that he always seemed to excite you. you sometimes had to leave class and rush to the bathroom, knowing you were too wet, worried that someone would notice.

he suggested that you focus on the lesson and that you visit him after each class so he could ‘check’ your progress. 

his office was in one of the older buildings on campus, full of wood and winding stone hallways. the first time you had come into his office, you thought you would joke about how difficult it had been to find his office, even if you were lying - you knew exactly where prof. choi’s office was - you had known since your freshman year when you had first followed him. you knew the way there like the back of your hand. you even knew how often he stayed late, grading exams - you worried about how tired he looked sometimes.

but he hadn’t given you time to make small talk. instead, he had thrown an arm around your waist and shoved his hand under your skirt, his fingers dipping into your pussy. he immediately knew what a mess you were. 

and now, you were just balanced on the edge of his desk, your ass barely making contact with the wood while seungcheol held you in place. you griped the desk, struggling to keep your hands exactly where he had placed them. you knew if you obeyed the rules, he would reward you - you would be his “good little girl.” you loved it when he whispered those words. 

you were surprised when his cock pushed between your folds and the sudden feeling of being completely full. you struggled to grasp the desk as he began to fuck into you, deep and hard, every thrust stretching you wider and wider. there were papers in the way - you could feel them crumpling between your fingers as you whimpered, grateful your panties were there to keep you quiet. 

you could feel your orgasm building and building, and without warning, he pulled out, just as you were on the cusp of coming undone. you fell back, whimpering, feeling him returning to the same position of barely teasing your clit with his thrusts. 

you heard his small laugh, “i told you, y/n, i’m in a terrible mood this evening - why not take it out on my little stalker - keep edging you and your tight little cunt until you’re beyond begging,” he whispered close to your ear. 

you nodded, moaning softly, you were happy to have him edge you as long as it pleased him. as long as he was enjoying it, you didn’t care. 

a/n: hehe tehy're both freaks - hope you enjoyed them tho!!

♡ kat

if you want to submit a bingo ask the original bingo, is [here] and new nsfw only bingo is [here] - you can ask for squares from both

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