#how to make frizzy hair smooth

[transmalewife]

so many posts appreciating rose tyler for how down to earth, unapologetically working class she looks and they are all right but also it's incredible how that continues as bad wolf. for a moment she's the most powerful being in the show. and it would be so easy to make her strange and smooth and elflike but this is 2005 and so she's crying. the strongest being in the universe is a teenage girl in sweatpants crying and sweating, hair frizzy, her voice breaking as she speaks. incomprehensibly powerful, larger than life and still so very human

[sincerelybubbles]

i just think that james would make the best boyfriend. and i know it's not a new thought or even an uncommon one, everyone knows james loves fast and he loves deep, but i cannot help but imagine how healthy your relationship would be with him.

like, yes, when he picks you he's fiercely protective and obsessed with you beyond belief. he's always touching you, skin to skin, pouting when you're holding his hand because you're wearing gloves and he wants to feel you ("I'll put your hand in my pocket," he whines when you explain that your hand is just cold. you give him a fake glare but three minutes later, tops, you're holding his hand, no gloves, in his hoodie pocket and he's walking around with the biggest grin on his face, all white teeth on display). he compliments you every time you turn a corner for everything you do, he drops anything and everything for you the second you even breathe like you might need something. his professions of love are as breathtaking as they are frequent ("i just love the way you exist," he whispers in the morning, smoothing your hair out of your face, "i mean, it's 7 in the morning and usually i'm struggling to open my eyes but your hair is frizzy and i know where all of your freckles are and i can't wait to count them, you know?").

but i think beyond that, there's a sort of solidness that comes from healing together. from finding the flaws in your relationships, testing them until the cracks widen enough for you two to patch together, and relishing in the firmness of what used to be weak. james overwork himself. he used to spend restless hours finishing work at home, dejectedly pushing you off in fear of letting down his coworkers. working at the gym until his muscles screamed, unable to even lift his fork for dinner without his pecs screaming at him. planning dates and activities on your days off together to the point where you felt like you couldn't breathe. everything done with the lacing of care, tinged with the effort he put into every moment of life. it felt wrong for you to comment on at first. he tries so hard all of the time to do everything for everyone -- be everything for everyone, even himself. good things, at their core, that you didn't want to rub the shine out of by getting your fingerprints on. but you watched him fracture and put him back together when the effort became too much and crumpled his facade. you taught him self-restraint, reminded him to allow you to take some of the burden, showed him the simple pleasure of taking up space together without thinking of how every moment could be maximized. in turn, he helped you with sleep. self-confidence. how to talk through hurt feelings instead of lashing out.

james wouldn't let comments turn into fights. ("what do you mean when you say that?" he asks instead, sitting beside you and ducking his head to meet your eye, be at your level. his fingertips rest on your forearm, skin-to-skin like always. eyes open, alert, lips pressed together to tell you he's confused, doesn't agree, but posture telling you he's willing to listen more than he's willing to escalate). and when fights happen, of course they happen, you've taught him it's okay to walk away. it's not defeat. neither of you leave the flat, only to separate rooms, but it usually only takes 20 minutes before you're reaching out again, missing his warm fingers settling on the soft place behind your ear as he messes with your hair while you talk, and you're whispering your way through the problem. untangling to the root like it's a tangled group of threads, working through it together,

so, yeah, i can't stop thinking about how james would be such a good boyfriend. for the obvious reasons, always, but for the ones deeper from the surface. for the reasons that would cause issues first and how ready he would be to dive in and make the faults strengths of their own as well.

not edited, not proof read, i'm so sorry it's 1am and i can't stop thinking about him

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ace having a different hairstyles in his latest card is so cool. Given we seen Jamil with untied hair, it makes me think of most of the cast having their hairstyles change. Like I can imagine Vil without braided hair, Rook's messy hair similar to his Savanaclaw style, Leona's lazy hair, Sebek's same hairstyle as his Briar Valley guard card, and so on. The only ones I can't imagine are Kalim and Ortho since Kalim literally has the most shortest hair and Ortho is well...him. I wonder what Ortho looks like in his sleep wear card, man it will take a year find out. I also thought of Silver since he is usually sleeps alot and has his hair style well the same.

Yup, it looks like (based on Jamil and Ace) every character will get two new looks with the Relaxing in Room cards: messy/bedhead and with a headband.

I feel like this gives us a lot of possibilities!!

VIL BUT HE LOOKS LIKE AN EXTRATERRESTRIAL BECAUSE HE’S IN A FLUFFY BATHROBE AND HEADBAND, GOT ON A FACE MASK, AND HAS CUCUMBER SLICES ON HIS EYES… Terrifying to anyone walking into his room without context www

I think Rook’s hair would depend on just how “permanent” the straightening and smoothing out process is. It would be fun to see it frizzy and natural again, but I think he’s probably got his new grooming routine down pat now, meaning no split ends and such. I’m really interested in seeing how he maintains his new looks though, what kinds of tips and tricks he has picked up from Vil, etc.

cbjsbsjegsksk All I’m picturing for Leona is him making RUGGIE do his braids for him every morning 😭 Leona technically has the dexterity and skill to do it himself (whether by hand or by magic), but I don’t know if he’d always have the drive to do his hair like that every day considering how laid-back his usual style of dress is… (and we all know he already makes Ruggie handle his laundry OTL)

I will happily take any excuse to see Sebek without his hair gelled back 🥺 He looks so cute with his hair down, much more innocent and puppy-like… We need to see more of it!!

For the short hair boys like Kalim and Trey, they’ll probably try to make their usual styles a little messier? Ruffle it up a little or something, just enough to be visually noticeable.

As for Ortho, hmm 🤔 His designs have always been the most unique simply due to the nature of him being an android… and his hair is artificial anyway, so technically it has more range than actual hair. Maybe we’ll actually get to see it take on a new shape? Get on that upgrade, Idia! Or maybe Ortho now has the autonomy to figure it out for himself?

[eggyrocks]

bruised part eighteen -> three times

m. list

♪ now playing: space song by beach house ♪

Iwaizumi almost caves three times.

1: That night. In Bokuto’s apartment.

Their position on the couch is uncomfortable and slightly awkward. A clumsy entanglement of numb limbs. She lies on top of him, delicate arm outstretched and resting on the cushion above them and her cheek flat against his chest.

He’s not even pretending to pay attention to the show that plays. His hand is lightly cupping the back of her head, dragging it down to her neck and smoothing out the frizzy ends of her hair. And he’s looking at her, completely focused on her. Enamored with her. Consumed by her. “That guy’s such a fucking dick,” she commentates on the show, voice muffled by the way her cheek is pressed into his chest. “Hope he dies.”

Iwaizumi chuckles lowly. “You can’t wish death on every single person that pisses you off.”

“Why not?” she counters. “It’s not like it’s ever worked. Oh, and by the way,” she says, lifting her head and turning to face Iwaizumi, her chin now sitting just below his neck, “those Etsy witches are scammers. You still have a full head of hair.”

He tries not to be distracted by her sudden increase in proximity or insecure about the details of his face and how well she can probably see them. Iwaizumi quirks an eyebrow at her. “And you’re mad about that?”

She makes a little humming noise of contemplation, and then raises a hand to run through the ends of his hair. Iwaizumi tenses at once, in an attempt not to react, and is hyperaware of where exactly his gaze lands, and is careful not to let it wander. “Nah, I guess not,” she decides, dropping her hand back down. He mourns the loss of it. “You look handsome as is. But I want my money back.”

Iwaizumi thinks, for a second, about reaching into his pocket and fishing whatever compensation she was looking for out of his own wallet. A form of apology for his hairline not receding.

Instead, he sort of just stares, still in awe that their closeness, on how it doesn't even seem to make her flinch. So much in awe that Iwaizumi can't even think of anything to say. She blinks at him, as if waiting for something, and he's sure, then, that he's going to kiss her.

Waiting be damned. He's waited long enough.

The universe doesn't seem to agree, though, and decides to force Iwaizumi to keep his word. Because the front door slams open, hitting the wall behind it with such a force that Iwaizumi is sure there's going to be a hole in the wall. And through it comes Bokuto and Akaashi, attached at the mouth and hands wandering. So entranced in each other they don't even seem to notice that they have witnesess.

"Well damn," she mumbles, looking past Iwaizumi to see them, "took them long enough."

Iwaizumi looks away. It feels too intimate, for him to witness. "He totally forgot you're here."

"Yeah," she agrees, and then yells out, "Oi!"

They break apart at once, Bokuto standing up proudly with a bright grin and Akaashi flushed red and unable to make eye contact. She's still in Iwaizumi's arms when she says, "Date went well?"

2: When Oikawa left, two weeks later.

He was honestly almost surprised to see how it affected her. Especially given the amount of threats she had made on his life and his face for the duration of his stay. But she had hugged him for so long and told him she didn't want him to leave and Iwaizumi could hear in her voice the way she held back tears.

She didn't hold them back on the car ride home.

"Ugh," she groaned, wiping away tears with the sleeve of her hoodie. "God, I can't believe I'm crying over fucking Oikawa Tooru."

Iwaizumi can't believe it either. It's rare to see her cry over anything. He feels oddly and uncomfortably jealous, and pretends that he does not. He pulls up in front of their apartment, feeling grateful he doesn't have to drop her off at Bokuto's now that her arm's clear of a sling, and places the car in park. "Wanna fly to Argentina?" he offers, half-joking.

She sniffles, trying to calm herself, and gives a weary smile. "Only if you're coming with me."

And fuck, it's there again. That feeling, that urge to lean in and kiss her. It hits him hard, so hard he feels momentarily dizzy. She looks at him from across the center console with big, wet eyes and god, it's all that he wants.

And then, there is a slight tremble to her lower lip, and tears begins to rapidly pool in her eyes. And before Iwaizumi has the chance to say anything else, she's crying again.

He settles for holding her. It wasn't the right time, anyways, he reasons.

3: A month later, at her gym.

"Keep your elbows up Izumi," she calls from the outside the ring, standing next to Iwaziumi with her arms crossed. Inside of the ring are two sparring thirteen-year-olds, who fight with a tenacity that almost scares Iwaizumi.

It's the same way she fought, when she was that age.

She leans in closer to Iwaizumi and whispers, "They never fucking listen to me. Good thing I'm not their goddamn coach, or anything."

"Yeah, well when you were thirteen, you punched your coach in the dick, so," Iwaizumi reminds her, grinning at the incident. He remembers it so clearly. At the time he was amazed he got to witness it, and he took the first opportunity he had to tell everyone at school about it.

She rolls her eyes. "Whatever, that dickhead totally deserved it. He was hitting on my gross mom," she insists, as if the incident isn't over ten years old at this point, and she still has to defend herself. "And he like, totally sucked as a coach. He offered me a beer for every win I got."

Iwaizumi whips his head around at this information. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, and I won a lot when I was thirteen. It was before my slump."

He scoffs. "God, no wonder you're like this. Every adult figure in your life was negligent at best."

There's a gentle elbow nudging into his side. "What the hell do you mean 'no wonder you turned out like this'? I thought you were supposed to be in love with me or something."

The reminder brings a bit of heat to his cheeks, but Iwaizumi grins either way. "Of course I'm in love with you," he says. "I was in love with you back then, too. I like that you're a little insane," he teases lightly.

And she looks up at him with this big, admiring gaze and Iwaizumi can see it, then, how much she loves him. He doesn't know how he hasn't seen it before. He can almost feel it rolling off of her in waves.

He wants to kiss her then, too. That same, overwhelming feeling. He would, if not for the two thirteen-year-olds punching each other in the face, trying to draw blood.

It happens when he thinks it won't.

Iwaizumi is getting home from work, muscles tight and eyes strained from staring at a screen for longer than he's used to.

She's in the kitchen when he gets home, and she is fighting a losing battle. The first thing he sees as he abandons his work bag on the ground and clears the threshold is her, standing in front of an oven, holding a plate of what he assumes to be brownies. But it's soupy and chunky and steams like they were just pulled from the oven.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. "What the fuck is that?"

She groans. "I tried to make you brownies," she whines, and is quick to abandon the pan on top of the stove. "But, obviously, my skills lie elsewhere."

"Why were you trying to make me brownies?" he questions, entering further into the kitchen to try and get a better look at them. He winces. There's oily looking puddles on the surface. He would try it, just show some appreciation, but he thinks it might kill him.

She leans up against the kitchen counter and crosses her arms over her chest. "Because I'm in love with you, obviously."

And it's just something about the way she says it. So casually. So matter-of-fact. She loves him. It's plain, it's simple, it's true. She's in love with him. The same way that he's in love with her.

So really, Iwaizumi can't be blamed. He really just can't hold it back, anymore.

Iwaziumi turns from the hot mess of a dessert she tried to make for him, and faces her. And in a second, he has her face pressed gently between each of his hands. There's no time, really, for him to think about what he's doing. He just does it.

He just kisses her.

And she kisses him back.

Standing there, in their kitchen, Iwaizumi kisses her, and she kisses back, and something in his chest explodes.

-> fun facts!

only one chapter left! ahhhhh!

yachi may have walked into the kitchen shortly after this and screamed

she immediately texted her gc with oikawa and hinata

and now no one will know peace

i changed the song from hypernight to space song bc it felt more fitting

highly recommend reading while listening

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @rinheartshyunlix @causenessus @makkir0ll @cr4yolaas @k8nicole @cannibalsrider @bookworm-center @frootloopscos @ekeio @michivrse @phoenix-eclipses @hermaeusmorax @milkwithspiceyicecubes @anonnreader777 @mehreya @kmwife @rrosiitas @riousluvs @atsumou @ryeyeyer @faesix @milesmoralesluvs @bae-ashlynn @um-no-ok @kozuskitten @ncthourss @ms-downhill @bellamsby @karasyuu @k0z3me @blamemef0rit

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: Being partners with Kick-Ass is far more intimidating when you have a huge crush on him, especially when he won't stop talking about his crush.

Prompt: hurt and comfort - "I'm so sick of pretending like everything is okay."

here you go, my darling @lavieenvalentina! ily! seeing you in my notifs always makes me so happy!

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

The night is humid and hot and nothing seems to be going your way. 

First, your costume had shrunk in the laundry making the middle feel three sizes too small. Second, it had been drizzling outside and now your hair is frizzy, and third—your partner, Kick-Ass, has been going on and on about this girl Katie from his high school. 

You know Katie. You've deduced you go to the same school. She's all sugary sweet on the outside, but she's been casually teasing you since middle school, which is something you can't exactly tell him considering your identity must remain a secret. 

It doesn't help that you don't know who Kick-Ass is either. Hell, he could be one of the stupid popular jocks for all you know and then you'd so feel silly.

"And her hair is so silky and smooth, I wonder how she—" Kick-Ass continues as you walk, grinning like an idiot. You don't know how much longer you can take this agony, but you try and listen to him anyway.

"You okay?" he asks after more rambling because he can now sense you aren't listening. 

You pause, stopping at a crossroads and then you turn to him. "I should go home, there isn't any crime happening," you say, needing some time alone and away from him. 

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, his voice low and hoarse. It's the tone that makes your cheeks feel warm and your heart flutters uncontrollably. Behind his mask, his bright blue eyes shine and he's looking at you like some poor puppy who can't understand why his owner won't give him a bone. 

"Don't look at me like that," you say, taking his arm and pulling him into a small alley. 

"Like what?" he sounds genuinely confused as he leans against the brick wall. 

"Like a damn wounded puppy!" you exclaim, throwing up your arms in exasperation, "As if I've kicked you or something stupid. Why do you always have to act like the one who's hurt when all you do is hurt me?!"

The words tumble from your lips.

"I hurt you?" he whispers, his concerned expression obvious even with almost his entire face covered. "How? I thought we were friends. You're the best damn friend I've ever had."

"You don't know me," you interrupt him and fiddle with the latex of your glove, "not really." 

"Well, I could know you," Kick-Ass says, sounding very determined. "You're the one who doesn't want to know me. I've told you a thousand times you can trust me. I've even told you my name."

Your eyes widen at this revelation. "What? When?"

"The first week we met, you never told me yours but whatever," he shakes his head and then outstretches his hand, "Here, I don't mind. I trust you. My name is Dave," he says casually.

You suddenly click all the pieces in your head and your smile drops.

"Dave Lizewski?" you whisper, suddenly recognizing his voice. Of course, how could you not have recognized him? You sit next to Dave in Pre-Calculus every single day. Dave hangs around with Katie all the time. You look him up and down.

His eyebrows crease. "How did you know that?" he asks suspiciously.

You think, screw this, and untie your mask from behind your head, letting it drop into your hands. You look up, almost afraid of his reaction.

Dave's eyes widen and he stutters out your name, the syllables stuck in his throat as he processes that it's you.

He didn't consider you a friend at school, but you always helped him in Pre-Calculus when you could so he liked you. Plus, you're gorgeous and he can't deny that before Katie Deauxma, he'd thought of you in inappropriate ways—sometimes he still does.

His cheeks burn bright red. 

"It's you," is all he can muster.

You shrug and look away from him. "This is so stupid," you say and then turn to him again, "We're so stupid for not knowing. I mean, we talk all the time."

Dave pulls off his mask. Luckily no one is walking around this dinghy alley to see you both. Your breath catches in your throat at seeing Dave, his hair messy and stuck to his skin, his glasses abandoned and dressed in his Kick-Ass suit. 

You start to laugh. You aren't laughing at him but at this absurd situation. 

Dave doesn't take it like that and he scrunches up his nose. "Are you laughing at me?"

You shake your head and look at him seriously. "No, I'm laughing because if I had known waking up today that the boy I have a crush on was none other than Dave Lizewski from Pre-Calculus—I think I would have pinched myself."

Your words sink and Dave's eyes widen until he looks almost scared. "What?"

"You know Katie thinks you're gay. That's the only reason she's your friend," you interrupt. You feel the need to tell him, like jealousy and pure venom is slipping from your mouth. Is it mean? A little, but you think it's time someone should burst his bubble.

Dave frowns, your previous statement slipping his mind momentarily. "I know that," he tells you, defensive. 

"Then why on earth do you have to go on and on about her all the time?"

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was inconveniencing you, Y/n," he snaps without hesitation, crossing his arms.

"Well, you are," you snap back, glaring at him and looking at him like this, knowing who he is, makes this a thousand times harder.

If Kick-Ass did turn out to be a stupid, meat-head, jock then this would be so much easier. Only he isn't. He's Dave Lizewski  and Dave is sweet and he's funny and he's brave and—

"I'm so sick of pretending like everything is okay," you blurt out and bury your face in your hands. 

Dave is quiet for a moment until he walks closer and pulls your hands down so he can look at you. "Okay, listen, can we please rewind for a second?" he asks, "y-you said you have a crush on me."

You shake your head and warmth spreads across your cheeks. 

"You did," Dave insists. 

"Doesn't matter, it's stupid."

"It does matter," he says and his hands cup your cheeks, hair falling and tickling his wrists as his mask hangs from his hand. "It matters because you're lovely and kind and I really like you." 

"Not the way I like you," you counter, "you like Katie Deauxma." 

Dave winces and he can't argue. His feelings don't just magically disappear, although he can admit that for some reason—after seeing you in this light—something inside him shifted. Something he can't explain right now.

"Y/n, you don't know me either," he tells you honestly, "you may know Kick-Ass a little, and you may like him, but you don't like Dave."

Not yet, you want to finish but you don't. You keep your mouth shut. He has a point.

"Just don't talk about her anymore, will you?"

Dave smiles a little, nodding his head. "Okay. Promise," he looks into your eyes, his gaze flickering to your lips. 

He has a really strong feeling he won't need to talk about Katie anymore. 

tags: @earth-elemental18

[sxfterhearts]

full of you(r love)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ softdom!jiung x little girl!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: smut (18+ mdni nsfw), unprotected sex, dd/lg themes, mention of safeword (but not used), emotional sex (is this a warning?), porn with a lot of plot

♡ word count: 3,550 words

♡ author's note: i'm scared cos this fic i've been working on for the past month is going out into the world.. pls be kind im a fluff writer with no smut experience but choi jiung made me write this?!???! dedicating this fic to all my lovely tumblr moots and anons who encouraged me throughout this process, and especially @348kg (this fic wouldnt exist without u) and @kisseobie (ur my inspiration rosa) <333 fr smut writers yall are elite u have my respect omfg

//

“Yeah? Are you sure, eomma? I think it’s looking a little too red… Oh wait,” Jiung paused mid-sentence, lips lifting automatically into a smile as he heard the familiar chime of the keypad  code being punched into the door. You were home, finally. “Y/N’s home. Yeah, mhmm… Okay, I’ll tell her that. Yup, okay… Yeah, one spoon, got it. Thank you so much! Mhmm, I’m hanging up. Okay, love you too, bye!”

He turned around, placing his red phone in the pocket of his apron, a gift you got him when he declared he wanted to learn how to cook better meals. Jiung turned the fire down to a low simmer, but not before inhaling the fragrant aroma of his own home cooking. Smiling proudly, he wiped his hands on the apron and made his way towards the entrance of your shared apartment. “Y/N! You’re back.”

The smile was promptly wiped off his face when he saw your dishevelled figure at the doorway, struggling to peel your goddamned heels off your sore feet. The hair that you usually wore up in a ponytail was hanging towards the floor in a frizzy black mop. You bore such a close resemblance to the female ghosts in those old-school horror movies that Jiung nearly jumped in fright. 

“Hey, let me.” He called out softly, crouching down to undo the straps of your heels and peel your bag off your tired shoulders, before carefully placing the shoes back on the shelves. 

“Jiung…” You mumbled, voice small and tired. You huffed out a deep sigh. “I had the worst day ever, I’m not even joking.”

Jiung looked at you and took you in, like really took in your entire being, and realised that he had not seen you in such a state for a while. “Yeah?” He smiled sympathetically, arms coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him and guiding your heavy head to rest against his broad shoulders. His palm cradled the back of your head, smoothing down your hair and pressing his lips against your temples in greeting. 

“Yeah, my stupid manager doesn’t understand that I can’t deliver the same results because we are literally one man down. What am I supposed to do when the other manager is on leave for a whole month? Why doesn’t he understand that I can’t train my staff and lead the project at the same time? It’s so frustrating. And whenever I try to voice out my concerns, it’s like he’s deaf or something, I swear…” You grumbled angrily.

“Hmm,” Jiung hummed, listening intently. “It does sound like a really tough day, baby. But you know what will make it better?”

“Hmm?”

“I made you dinner.”

As if on cue, Jiung felt, rather than heard, your stomach grumble, signalling your hunger. His brows scrunched up as he asked, yet fearing the answer altogether, “When was the last time you ate, Y/N?”

You went silent. 

Jiung sighed, shaking his head. “C’mon, silly girl. I made your favourite. It’s my mum’s recipe too. Just sit and I’ll get it ready for you.”

It was your turn to shake your head this time. “No, your baby wants hugs.” You insisted childishly, your cool, strict manager facade from work disappearing the moment you were in the presence of your boyfriend of four years. You pouted and hugged him tighter, absolutely refusing to budge.

Jiung laughed, finding your current state endearing. He knew it was because you were so tired and worn out, and decided to make the most of the opportunity. “Fine, it’s up to you. You are my baby, after all…”

As the night wore on, you refused to leave his side for even a moment, sticking to Jiung like a koala clung to a tree. You insisted on hugging him from behind as he scooped the kimchi jjigae into two separate bowls, topping them with spring onions and a teaspoon of sesame oil each and serving them up with bowls of steaming, multigrain rice. You held on tight as you sat on his lap at the dining table, limbs intertwining with his as you begged him to feed you instead, feeling ‘too tired’ all of a sudden to even lift a spoon because of the rough work day. You even grasped the hem of his white, paper thin t-shirt desperately when he so much as got up to grab more side dishes from the fridge, insisting that he let you stay like this for longer because you missed him way too much.

“Baby…” Jiung cooed, repositioning his big hands on your hips, reaching under your tight work blouse to caress your soft skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “What is it? I know you’ve had a hard time today, but you’re very clingy.” He lightly teased, eyes downcast as he looked at you with feigned suspicion. In reality, after being together for so long, it wasn’t hard for Jiung to know your true intentions.

You refused to meet his eyes, pretending to pay him no mind as you chewed on the last mouthful of rice, all while twirling the strings of his apron around your fingers. 

“Babe…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to be a good girl and use your words? Hmm?” He prompted, voice turning slightly harder.

When you failed to respond, Jiung used his long, slim fingers to tilt your chin towards him and hold it there. “Words, baby. I need you to say something, okay?”

Your desperate, pleading eyes met his unwavering gaze, and you felt your body shiver at the intensity behind it. “Yeah…” You whispered, suddenly feeling small.

“What do you need… Can you tell me?” Jiung pressed on, yet his eyes caught sight of a stray piece of rice lingering on the corner of your lips. He moved his thumb towards the rice and both of you followed his movement. As though in slow motion, your tongue darted out to lick his finger – shy, like a kitten. When you noticed that he didn’t respond, and just tracked your next move with the eyes of a hawk, you daringly relaxed your jaw and sucked it into your wet, warm mouth.

Jiung felt his cock stir under two layers of clothing and your plush ass.

You saw how his pupils blew out. Feeling satisfied with the effect you had on him, you released his thumb with a loud pop. “Jiung, can you take care of me tonight, please?” You asked shyly, batting your eyelashes. The stark contrast between the lewd request and your bashful tone made your boyfriend’s head spin.

Behind closed doors, you were completely comfortable with Jiung taking full control and treating you like his baby girl. Tonight was no different. It wasn’t often that you got the opportunity to take things all the way. In fact, you struggled to even remember when was the last time Jiung even called you his baby. Especially not since you started on this project, which has been the cause of all your grievances in the past three months.

But tonight, you were determined to break the drought. Something within you snapped this afternoon when your boss made a big show of throwing your report in the trash whilst yelling colourful profanities in front of the entire team. It was the last straw after a series of small, seemingly insignificant inconveniences that eventually snowballed. You felt like a pressure cooker, finally exploding at your incompetent boss.

The entire torment drained you so much that truthfully, you really didn’t want to do anything for yourself anymore. Sure, you could feed yourself, and sure, you could sit upright on your own, but you really appreciated that since stepping foot into the apartment, Jiung had taken care of everything – from removing your shoes, to making sure you were fed and comfortable. You didn’t even need to think; you just trusted and knew that he would shut your brain down and handle everything for you.

Being someone who was naturally independent and strong-headed in the workplace, you knew that anyone who found out you acted like this with your boyfriend would hang their jaws in utter disbelief. Yet here you were, being carried to the sofa by Jiung as you nibbled on his neck in fervour.

“You sure you want this tonight, baby?” Jiung sat you down and kneeled at eye-level in front of you to ask, all serious and concerned. But his mind was slowly getting clouded as your teeth sunk into a soft spot close to his earlobes, sucking greedily. “There’s no turning back for you if you say yes, and…” He paused to take a breath, letting his responsibility over you rise up to the surface. “I will take care of you as always, but you’re in quite a state now, and I don’t want to risk you having a bad time.”

Jiung felt you nod wordlessly in response, but it wasn’t enough for him. The soft dom inside of him was screaming for your verbal consent. “Baby, if you don’t tell me our safe word now, I’m going to have to stop, okay?” He warned, using the tone you registered as being slightly stern when you descended into your little persona. 

“Blue,” You muttered directly into his ears. You rubbed your thighs together involuntarily. Truthfully, you had been thinking about this since you were in the office, and you weren’t sure if you could hold it in any longer. “It’s blue, please… I thought about this at work…” Your lips moved closer and captured his earlobe, sucking on it in a silent attempt to speed things up.

Shit shit shit – Jiung could only let out a choked hum as you attacked his sensitive spot. He knew that even though you were his little girl, deep down you were still a vixen begging and yearning to be fucked, and he knew you knew all the right buttons to push to get what you wanted.

He was never very good at denying you, anyway. Jiung spoiled you rotten, he thought, as he pulled you away from him. “Sit up for me, baby. I want you to be a good girl for me and suck my cock first. Can you do that?”

You nodded way too eagerly, eyes shining and lips parted as you looked up at him, waiting for Jiung to rid himself of his sweats and boxers, all in one go. You felt saliva pool in the back of your throat as you finally caught sight of the main prize. Jiung was not extremely long or girthy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, as your clammy fingers wrapped around what was undoubtedly the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen. You liked how your small fingers struggled slightly to wrap all the way around, forcing you to use both hands as you guided the swollen tip towards your waiting mouth. Greedy, your tongue peeked out to sneak a taste of his glistening pre-cum. 

Giggling, you hummed to yourself in satisfaction before letting a comment slip, “It’s nice…”

Jiung was halfway to losing his mind but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. You were, after all, his adorable, precious girl. “Well,” He placed an encouraging hand on your cheek, “I’m glad you think so.”

You nodded in agreement, letting your hands wander across his midriff, fingers ghosting over the black butterflies peeking through his thin shirt. He helped you by raising the shirt and capturing the hem between his teeth, skin tingling with excitement as you licked every tattoo on his upper body with your slick, hot tongue.

Once you were satisfied, you finally allowed yourself to indulge in his intoxicating scent. Mirroring your earlier actions, you let Jiung into your welcoming mouth, quickly sucking and swirling your tongue around his length at a steady pace. Instantly, he released the shirt from his lips and let out a long moan.

Hearing his noises only spurred you on further. Determined, one hand reached underneath to massage his balls while the other fisted the rest of his uncovered length, doing everything at once – a three-in-one, if you will, in the hopes of driving Jiung absolutely insane.

“Baby… Fuck, how are you so good at this?” He grunted. “Who taught you to be this good, hmm?”

You tried to answer with an excited “You!” but seemed to have forgotten about the dick in your mouth, making you cough and sputter before swallowing even more of him in. Jiung had to forcefully grip your hair into a ponytail to keep himself in check, fighting the primitive urge to continue choking you with his thick cock. 

But why did he want to fight, you wondered? You recovered from the slip up like a champ, quickly relaxing your throat muscles to take in more of his length until both of you groaned at the impact of his tip kissing the back of your throat. You gagged, feeling your pussy leak and clench around nothing.

Jiung wasn’t faring any better as he screwed his eyes shut, groaning deeply. He lost partial control of his lower body as he rutted against that same spot again and again, selfishly hoping that you would gag on his cock over and over. “Ah, your mouth is so perfect for me…”

Your pussy pulsed at the praise, always a sucker for pleasing your boyfriend both in and outside of the bedroom. You wanted him to use you until he was painting ropes of white sticky hot cum on your face, but it seemed like he had other plans, suddenly yanking your face away from his pulsing, red cock.

You just stared at him, mouth agape in shock at the abrupt stop. 

The next thing you knew, you were being carried bridal style towards the bedroom. Jiung set you down gently in the middle of the bed, amongst a small army of your favourite plushies. He fluffed the pillows under your head, arranged your body in a comfortable position below him and tucked a lock of hair behind your ears. 

“Hey,” He breathed, nose bumping against yours. “Just checking in, how are you feeling?”

At that, you felt hot tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. How did you ever get so lucky to land someone like him? He was always so sweet and caring with you. Overwhelmed, you could only nod, feeling a flurry of emotions bubble up to the surface.

“Hey, hey, baby…” Jiung’s finger captured a stray tear, concerned. “Do you want to keep going? You know we can stop at any time.”

You nodded in affirmation, looking up at him with pleading, sparkling eyes. At that moment, Jiung thought you had never looked so devastatingly beautiful. He swore to himself that he would always be your lover, and your protector.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.”

And you believed Jiung with your whole heart. You closed your eyes and felt him kiss away your tears as his fingers slowly unbuttoned your blouse. Little by little, your stress and worries melted away with the feathery touch of his lips against your exposed skin. He pressed open-mouth kisses trailing from the top of your bra to your navel, swiftly pulling down your slacks, leaving you in your underwear. Somehow, while you were losing yourself to the sensations, Jiung managed to pull your favourite pair of frilly, knee high socks over your legs. Partly because he knew your feet get cold easily, but mostly because he liked how they hugged your thighs.

“My sweet girl…” Jiung pressed a thumb to your white-ribboned panties, feeling a wet spot at your centre. His breath caught in his throat at your leaking arousal. 

You could only whine, hips pressing against his palm in search of more friction. 

Jiung got the message, undoing your bra then pulling down your panties in quick succession, leaving you bare for him. “So perfect,” he whispered to himself more than anything, blood rushing to his hardened length. His mouth latched onto your left nipple as he rolled the right one between eager fingers. 

“Jiung…” You sighed, pleasure coursing through your veins like an electric shock. “Please…”

After a harsh suck, he released your nipple with a loud pop. “Please what, baby?” 

“Please, I want you inside…” You whined, greedy for more.

“Baby, I need to prep you first.” He thumbed the entrance of your sweet hole, gathering your slick before swiftly pushing inside.

You huffed, shaking your head. One finger was not enough anymore. “Want you inside now, please!”

Jiung’s cock twitched at your words. “But it’ll hurt –” 

“I want it to, please! I just want to feel you deep inside,” You were desperate at this point, begging him to fill you up. “Thought about this all day!”

Jiung cursed under his breath, turned on beyond belief at your eagerness. What his baby wants, his baby gets.

He slowly eased his hard length past the walls of your pussy, the glide aided by a mix of your saliva from earlier and your wet juices. Then, with one quick thrust, he slammed all the way in, the curved tip of his cock kissing your cervix. The two of you moaned out in unison, relieved to finally be back home in each other’s bodies. 

“Missed this…” Jiung was struggling to get the words out. It had been too long since you were last intimate and he forgot how tight your little cunt was. “Miss feeling you around me.”

You could only moan pathetically in response, eyes rolled back in pure pleasure. You felt so full of him, and so full of his love for you.

Jiung waited patiently for you to adjust to his size, all while pressing tender kisses along your jaw, and lightly rubbing the cool tip of his nose against your rosy cheeks. 

He caged you in with his arms, and rested his warm forehead against yours. You basked in his hot breaths fanning across your flushed cheeks as your pussy clenched and unclenched to adjust to his size. You craned your neck upwards, and Jiung understood you immediately, devouring your lips in a slow and passionate kiss. Your tongues tangled in a fiery dance whilst all your thoughts melted away. Your anxious brain was calm once more, as you surrendered your body and mind entirely to Jiung.

“Ready?” He asked, thumbs rubbing circular patterns against your waist.

You hummed, hips rolling up in search of friction. Jiung got the message, and pulled out gently before thrusting in deep. “God, Y/N… You’re so perfect for me, so good.”

He was making love to you – there was no doubt about it. Anyone could tell, from the way he rocked his hips with conviction, to the way his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, determined to make you feel good. Jiung was a passionate lover. And with each thrust, he replaced the hurt and frustration with love and blissful pleasure.

You were so lost in it; in him, and the way that he made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine. It was just you and him, and nothing else. It was such a relief to be treated like this by someone who loved you as much as Jiung did. Your lips, which were permanently casted into a frown throughout the work day, worked itself into a soft smile. You closed your eyes and just allowed the pleasure to course through your entire body. 

Jiung, noticing that you were getting lost in the moment, helped to gather your legs and wrap them around his waist for you. He held them there, enjoying the slight burn as the fabric of your socks rubbed against his back. That way, he could make sure your bodies were impossibly close. 

“You okay?” Jiung breathed, nudging your cheeks with his before pressing his lips on your forehead. 

You could only moan in response, clenching your walls every single time he thrusted into you. The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper, and that combined with the way his fingers played with your clit, had you inching closer and closer to your sweet release.

“Jiung – Ah! Close…” 

He kept hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars, while his fingers picked up speed. You could feel yourself tethering at the edge of the precipice. All it took was a –

“I love you, baby, no matter what, I love you more than you know…” Jiung professed his love before pressing his lips to yours for the nth time that night. “Yeah, that’s it. I gotchu, you’re safe with me.” That was more than enough to bring you over the edge.

Your velvety walls clenched around him so tight that he quickly followed, panting heavily as he filled you up to the brim with his cum.

epilogue.

As you basked in the afterglow of your climaxes, you felt Jiung littering kisses all over your face, and giggled. 

“How was it?” He asked jokingly.

“Hmm…” You pretended to think about it with your eyes closed, making both of you laugh. “Thank you, really. It was just what I needed.”

“What can I say? I’m the perfect boyfriend.”

“You really are, Choi Jiung. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[elliewlums]

hi hi this has been sat in my drafts for weeks and i hate it but here it is regardless

content warnings: not really angst but a bit sad, fluffy ending, gareth is mean to reader, crybaby!reader, eddie is super sweet, whole lot of hurt/comfort.

“does he not get tired of you?”

“hm?” you ask, distracted by the novel you’re buried in. you don’t register gareth’s snide, and a little bitter, tone, too engrossed in reading to listen attentively.

“eddie, i mean.” he clarifies. “i mean, there’s no space between you two, like at all. does he not get tired of you being around all the time. does he not want space?”

your heart pangs and you raise your knees to obscure the rapidly gathering tears. your eyes sting as the fluid mixes with your eyeliner and seeps into your waterline. it’s a question you’ve been asking yourself since day dot. what if he is tired of you?

“i-i mean, i never thought so. i guess he could be, though.” your voice comes out small and high and very audibly distressed; he starts backtracking. truthfully, he only made the snide comment because he’s a little envious of how much time eddie spends with you. he’s supposed to be his best friend, not yours.

“no, no, that’s not what i meant! i just meant that the two of you- you know- spend a lot of time together. it’d just make me antsy, you know? i need space.” you don’t reply, instead pressing fingers to your eyes in an effort to push the tears away. “y/n,” gareth tries again.

“no, no, you’re right. maybe he is tired of me,” you say. suddenly the book in front of you isn’t interesting, your shaky hands discarding it as you stand and gather your things. “you’re right, i- i think i should go. you know, before he gets sick of me for good.”

“wait-“ gareth murmurs. he feels exponentially guilty when he catches the tears weighing down your lashes, pushing them to kiss at the corners of your eyes. eddie will be so mad when he sees what he’s done; your whole body trembles ever so slightly and your eyes are wide and doe-like. you’re distraught at the possibility of eddie not loving you anymore.

“i really don’t want him to get fed up with me,” you mumble, half to yourself. “i know ‘m sort of full on, clingy i guess. you’re right. need t’stop bein so fuckin’ full on. ‘m so stupid.”

“wait, i’m sorry,” he says; you harbour no ill will whatsoever against him, and he just made you cry. you startle again as eddie’s bedroom door swings open and he saunters out, immediately sensing your unease.

“babe,” eddie splutters, long legs eating the space between the pair of you quickly. “baby, what- what is it?” you stumble back.

“i need t’go home,” you say, scrambling for the door.

“no, you don’t.” he’s not impressed. he steps towards you again, crowding you against the wall, his dark hair falls in frizzy waves around his face, wide eyes alight with concern. he’s warm against your body. you hiccup a sob. “woah, woah. talk to me, sweetheart.” gareth watches the situation unfold, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. you shake your head fervently, trying to swipe the tears away. he catches your hands, smoothing out the tense muscles with his thicker fingers.

“bein’ silly.” you press your face to his chest and hide. “so silly.”

“c’mon, it’s not silly if you’re upset.”

“jus’ thought that maybe- maybe i should go t’give you space. you should spend time with people that aren’t me.” you cover your face with your hands when his grip slackens and he tuts, peeling at your fingers that obscure your features.

“lemme see that pretty face.” he’s so warm, always kind and gentle with you. you feel so guilty— guilty for pulling away from him, but also for taking up his time, for monopolising his attention.

“why would i want that? i’m not mad at you and i don’t want space. i spend time with everyone but you’re my girl. you’re my priority, babe.”

“i don’t wan’ you to get tired of me, ed,” you mumble. “what if y’get tired of me ‘nd then you don’t want me around anymore?” your voice breaks and patters out into silence and eddie shushes you as more tears pool and ruin your mascara. he surrounds you with his body, his smell: cigarette smoke and cheap cologne and weed.

“hey, what’s put this idea in your head?” your eyes flutter shut as he holds your face between his hands, thumbs gathering the tears from under them and wiping them away.

“nothin’.”

“sweetheart.” he’s chastising, pulling your arms over his shoulders to coax you closer. his nose touches yours. “it’s jus’ me. when have i ever been mean to you, hm?” your eyes flit away from him and then back again.

“hey, gareth,” he says suddenly, honeyed eyes not breaking contact with yours. “do you know why my girl’s so upset?”

gareth inhales a quick breath.

“i swear i didn’t mean it like that, man. it came out all wrong.”

“well, what did you say?”

you wrap yourself around eddie then. “doesn’t matter, ed. he was right ‘nd ‘m being stupid for gettin’ so upset.” he pinches your chin.

“you’ve never been stupid in your whole life. and he’s not right. i don’t want space and i’m not gonna get tired of you. i want you here with me.”

“‘m sorry,” you whisper, brows pinched and nose scrunched. he kisses your pout.

“no sorries.” grinning, he tugs you back to the couch and smushes you into the worn fabric, pouncing on top of you; his weight presses you down until you’re practically melded into the couch like clay. you grumble.

“you’re heavy,” you moan, “get off!”

“shut up, you little baby.”

“i’ll hit you!”

“yeah, go on then,” he goads, pinning your arms behind your back in triumph. he licks a broad stripe up your exposed neck and you squeal.

“i’ll kill you!” you screech, writhing in his grip. he lets up somewhat and you squirm out of his hold, sitting up and panting.

“that was a little harsh, sweetheart,” he laughs.

“‘s your fault.” you accuse, “you held me down!”

“yeah, yeah.” he kisses you again. “you wait right here while gareth and i go for a little chat, alright?” you cringe, suddenly quiet again.

“‘kay.”

“good girl.” his lips are soft and comforting against your forehead.

it’s safe to say gareth is never quite that mean to you again.

[dees-writing-corner]

ink and needles

pairings: tattoo artist! bf! wooyoung x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2890

main masterlist

“Hongjoong, will you stop pacing?” Exasperated, I stood in front of him, blocking his path. “You’ve made my floorboards at least 3 shades lighter. Now can you please tell me why you’ve barged into my house at 3 o’clock in the morning with the intention of putting a dent in my living room floor?”   

“Okay, so, remember that little trip we have with some of the boys on Saturday?”   

Curling back into the corner of the sofa, I nodded, “Yeah, what about it?”   

Hongjoong smiled awkwardly as he inched away from me, “Well, um, some of the boys has turned into all of the boys.”   

Raising a brow, I sent him a look, “Okay? Why are you getting so worked up about that?”   

“It means Wooyoung’s gonna be there as well.”   

“So?”   

Hongjoong frowned as he looked at me, “You’re alright with Wooyoung being there?”   

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Standing up, I made my way back into my bedroom, Hongjoong trailing behind me as he turned off the lights.   

“I - uh- I just, you two have a love-hate relationship going on, just thought that you might want to get away from all that while you're trying to relax.”   

Pulling my duvet back, I paused before looking up at Hongjoong, who was leaning against the wall, “Wha-? Why would you think that?”   

Slipping into bed, I looked at Hongjoong as he made his way to the door.   

“You two bicker. A lot. Every time you see each other, you bicker. Doesn't it get tiring sometimes?”   

“It’s just how we are. I mean, yes, he knows how to get on my nerves, and can sometimes not know when to stop talking, but he’s a good b- a good friend. I wouldn't change it for anything.”  

Turning my back to him, I reached my hand out and turned off the lights.   

"You know where the guest rooms are, now goodnight, Joong."  

I watched as Hongjoong slid into the passenger side of the car before I looked at Wooyoung in the backseat grinning.  

Leaning down next to Hongjoong's window, I raised a brow at both him and Seonghwa, "You two do know that you've just assigned yourselves a death sentence by putting Wooyoung and I in the same car, right?"  

Sliding into the seat next to Wooyoung, I watched as Seonghwa adjusted the rear-view mirror before backing out the driveway with a nod, "Yeah, yeah, just don't bicker the whole way there or else I'm gonna be throwing one of you out."  

Casting a glance at Wooyoung, I nodded, "As long as he knows when to shut up, we'll be fine Hwa."  

Wooyoung pouted, putting a hand on his chest dramatically as he leaned over to me, "How could you say that about me?"  

Rolling my eyes, I pushed his face away from mine, "Oh, hush, ask anyone in our friend group what your favourite pastime is and they'll say trying to rile me up."  

I could see him nod in my peripheral vision, "True, I like seeing you all riled up, you get all pouty and it's cute."  

Making a sound from the back of my throat, I turned to look at him, "I don't pout when I'm annoyed."  

Wooyoung was about to say something when Hongjoong cut in, "You do. You furrow your brows and then start pouting."  

Looking over to Seonghwa, I saw him nod along, "Yeah, they're right." Stopping at a red light, he glanced back at me and grinned, "You're doing it right now."  

Pausing, I realised that, yes, I was indeed pouting.  

Running a hand over my face, I glared at the three men laughing at me, "Why are you guys ganging up on me today?"  

I felt Wooyoung put his hand on top of my head as he ruffled up my hair, "Because it's fun."  

Swatting his hand away, I tried to smooth down my hair, "Stop it. I just washed my hair this morning, and if it gets all frizzy because you did that, you and I are gonna have a talk, pretty boy."  

Chuckling, Wooyoung pushed my hands out of the way before running his own over my hair, "Your hair's fine sweetheart."  

I could see Hongjoong share a confused look with Seonghwa before he glanced back at us. Ignoring it, I chose to concentrate on my phone.  

Replying to the messages Mingi sent me, I felt a presence next to me. Turning my head to the side, I frowned when I noticed Wooyoung's face right next to mine.  

Glancing up at Hongjoong and Seonghwa, I kept my voice low, "What are you doing?"  

"Quick question."  

Feeling his lips brush the shell of my ear, I leaned back slightly, "What is it? And can you please quit breathing down my neck, it tickles."  

Wooyoung chuckled slightly, "Whatever you say. I just wanted to ask if we're telling them tonight?"  

"Yeah?" Turning my head to look at him, "When else are we gonna tell them? I don't think you can keep your hands to yourself for two days, Woo."  

Wooyoung smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he thought of something, "Hmm, I definitely won't be able to."  

Arriving at the holiday house late in the afternoon, everyone had just about enough time to settle into their rooms before our dinner would arrive.  

Exiting the bathroom, I noticed Wooyoung sitting in my bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.  

Making my way over, I sat down next to him, "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"  

Grinning, Wooyoung put his phone down and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer, "Just came to see how my pretty baby's doing."  

Scrunching up my nose at the nickname, I let out a small chuckle, "I should be the one asking you that. You're the one that's been scared to tell them."  

Tightening his arm around my waist, Wooyoung nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, "That's only because I'm afraid one of them is gonna castrate me. They're all like overprotective brothers and it's scary."  

Wiggling out of his arms, I stood up from the bed, holding a hand out to him, "Come on, let's go down, they're probably already in the kitchen."  

Wooyoung latched on to my hand, pulling me out of the bedroom and downstairs. As we rounded the corner to the kitchen, we paused when we heard Hongjoong talking.  

In the kitchen, the rest of the boys were setting up the table ready for dinner as Hongjoong and Seonghwa took the food off the serving carts, "No, but something felt strange between them. Hwa, back me up here."  

Seonghwa set the last plate on the table with a shrug, "Yeah, they were acting a bit weird. I mean, they were still bickering, but also, like, flirting."  

Everyone looked at Hongjoong and Seonghwa in disbelief as Yeosang let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, flirting? Those two? Okay, Wooyoung might come off a bit flirty at times, but that's because he's Wooyoung. It's not like Y/N flirts back."  

Hongjoong simply nodded, leaning against the kitchen island, "Yeah, that's what normally happens, but Y/N called him 'pretty boy' today." 

Sharing a look with Wooyoung, I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. Shaking my head, I entered the kitchen with Wooyoung following behind me.  

"And what are we talking about?"  

The sound of my voice startled them as they whipped their heads towards us.  

Jongho's eyes flickered between Wooyoung and I before glaring at Wooyoung when he caught something in his expression, "No."  

I felt Wooyoung snake an arm around me, grinning up at Jongho, "I'm gonna have to say, yes."  

Jongho threw his head back as he let out a groan, "Ugh, we're gonna have to deal with you two bickering AND flirting?" Jongho made his way to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, "This is going to be a long weekend, beer anyone?"  

The others looked at each other before Mingi broke the silence, "Uh, anyone want to fill us in?" 

Running a hand over my face, I grinned awkwardly at them, "We're dating?"  

Turning on the reading lamp, I picked up my book as I waited for Wooyoung to finish in the bathroom.  

"Well," Flinching slightly, I was startled by Wooyoung's sudden entrance, "That went better than I expected."  

Looking up, I watched as Wooyoung exited the bathroom, the lettering at the base of his neck and the serpent that curled at his shoulder blade on display.  

"Really?" Putting the book down, I arched an eyebrow as he slid in next to me. "What did you think would happen?"  

Once Wooyoung was comfortable against the headboard, I sat up, opting to staddle Wooyoung with my arms wrapped around his neck as his hands found purchase on my waist.  

"Definitely didn't think Hongjoong was going to point a wooden spoon at me and threaten to hunt me down with one of his easels."  

Laughing, I couldn't help but envision Hongjoong chasing Wooyoung with an easel, "What would he even accomplish? Those things are heavy!"  

Sliding one of my hands down, I traced the tattoo over his chest as the other played with the hairs on the nape of his neck.  

Wooyoung picked up the hand on his chest and raised it up to his lips, pressing a kiss at the pulse point, "What's going through that pretty little head of yours, hmm?"  

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I raised my eyes to meet his, a shy expression taking over my face, "I wanna get a tattoo."  

Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up as he looked up at me in surprise, "Yeah? I thought you were afraid of needles."  

Humming, I felt Wooyoung's hands slip under my shirt, his thumbs rubbing circles on my hips, "I am, but I want to get one and maybe a few more piercings."  

Wooyoung grinned as he nuzzled into the side of my face, lips brushing against my cheek, "Want me to do them for you, pretty?"  

Pulling back slightly, I looked at him, "Please?"  

Wooyoung pressed a kiss on my lips, leaning his forehead against mine, "Let's talk about this tomorrow. I'll book you in when the new shop opens."  

Wooyoung's arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against his chest as his lips found their way down the column of my neck.  

“Please tell me you’re joking.”  

Turning my head to glance at Hongjoong, I took a step closer to him as we made our way down the street.  

“What?” I shrugged, turning to face ahead. “I’ve wanted to get a tattoo for ages. Plus, I want to get a couple more piercings, so, why not?”  

Hongjoong looked at me in disbelief, “You’re terrified of needles. You can’t even get a shot without getting all anxious, and you think you can sit through being jabbed continuously with one?”  

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his words, “You’re exaggerating, I’m just not too fond of needles, that’s all.”  

Hongjoong moved to hook an arm with mine, “Hmmm. When are you getting it done?”  

Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I looked at him with a sheepish smile, “My appointment’s in about 10 minutes, so, um let's hurry up.”

Hongjoong paused for a second before pinching my arm, “You could’ve told me sooner!”  

“Yeah, well, uh, we’re here.”  

Stopping in front of a glass door, Hongjoong squinted up at the sign above.  

“This is Wooyoung and San’s new shop.”  

“It is.”  

Pushing the door open, Hongjoong and I walked in, taking a seat as San handed me a couple pieces of paper to look through.  

“You chose Wooyoung over ME?” Hongjoong whined as he looked at me with a pout.  

Not even looking up, I shook my head, "As much as I love you, Joong, the tattoos that you do are too.... extravagant for my taste."  

Signing the last piece of paper, I handed them to San before looking at Hongjoong, "Are you staying out here with San?"  

Seeing him nod, I stood up and made my way to the last room down the corridor, where Wooyoung's workstation was.  

Pushing the door open, I saw Wooyoung moving around the room, getting everything ready for the tattoo. Upon hearing the door creak open, he looked up, a smile making its way across his face when he saw me.  

Closing the door behind me, I let Wooyoung wrap his arms around me and press a kiss on my temple.  

"Nervous?"  

Nodding against him, I stepped back, placing my bag and jacket on the chair next to the door.  

"Of course I am."  

Wooyoung gave me a soft smile as he motioned me over to the workbench, "Come on, I'll do your piercings first."  

Settling down, I clipped my hair back as Wooyoung put his gloves on.

"You want two more helix piercings, yeah? Same ear?"  

Nodding, I watched as Wooyoung took a marker out, marking the positions of the piercings in my left ear before setting it down and taking a sterile needle out. Screwing my eyes closed, I turned my head to the side as I held onto the sides of Wooyoung's shirt as he slotted himself between my legs.  

Hearing Wooyoung countdown quietly, I let out a small breath before wincing as the needle went through.  

"Alright, one more to go."  

Once the second one went through, I slowly let go of Wooyoung's shirt, smoothing down the wrinkles as Wooyoung changed out the needles for studs.  

Turning to look at him, Wooyoung gave me an encouraging smile as he ran his hand up and down my thighs.  

"Ready for the tattoo, pretty?"  

Seeing me nod, Wooyoung stepped back from me to prepare his tattoo gun, "You're gonna have to take off your shirt and bra, babe."  

Unbuttoning my shirt, I slid it off my shoulders before unhooking my bra. Turning on the bench, I leaned my back against the seat with an arm covering myself.  

Wooyoung snapped on a pair of fresh gloves before seating himself on the stool next to me to start prepping my skin, "Ready?"  

Casting a nervous side glance, I smiled, "Definitely."  

Wooyoung pressed a quick kiss on my cheek before turning on the tattoo gun. Hearing the buzz fill the room, my body tensed slightly, before relaxing under Wooyoung's touch.  

Feeling the needle prick my skin, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The tattoo was a simple chrysanthemum design on the side of my ribs, and it didn't take long to complete.  

Wiping away the excess ink, Wooyoung leaned back to have a better look before tilting his head towards the mirror, "Go on, take a look before I wrap it."  

Hoping off the bench, I made my way to the side of the room where the mirror was.  

Scanning my eyes over the design, I smiled, "This is good."  

Chuckling, Wooyoung made his way over to me with a bandage in hand, "Of course it does! I did it!"  

Chuckling, I waited until Wooyoung finished whatever it was that he needed to do, before turning around and wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing a kiss on his lips, "Thank you."  

"My pleasure, pretty. But why a chrysanthemum?"  

Smiling, I let go of him and went over to the bench to slip my shirt back on, "It's the birth flower for November."  

Putting my bra into my bag, I turned to see Wooyoung standing at his workstation with a disinfectant spray in hand with a surprised expression, "Oh? So, it's for me then?"  

Shaking my head, a fond smile made its way across my face, "I was born in November too, pretty boy."  

Wooyoung wiped down the remaining bit of the workstation before walking out the door with me, my bag and jacket in hand.  

"Yeah, but I'd much rather think it's for me."  

Laughing, I paused slightly when we entered the reception area, "Uh, where are San and Hongjoong?"  

Wooyoung picked up a sticky note from behind the reception desk, "Well, they've left already. You were the last one of the day."  

Looking out the window, I noticed that it was raining pretty heavily outside.  

"Did you drive here, babe?"  

Wooyoung handed me my jacket before taking his off the clothing rack by the door, "Yeah, it's parked down the street."  

Exiting the shop, Wooyoung locked to door before turning to me, placing his jacket over the top of our heads, "Dinner at mine?"  

Seeing me nod, we both darted out into the rain and ran towards his car.  

Reaching the car, Wooyoung quickly unlocked it allowing me to slide into the passenger side, shaking my arms slightly.  

Wooyoung got into the seat beside me, shaking his head slightly to get rid of some of the water particles in there.  

Turning on the car ignition, Wooyoung turned to me, smiling, "What? You're staring, pretty."  

Taking his hand, I pressed a kiss on the back of it, "I love you."  

Wooyoung's hand tightened its hold on mine before letting go to tilt my head towards him. He leaned over the centre console, one of his hands finding its way to the back of my head as his lips found mine.  

"I love you too." 

taglist: @khuyyn (if you want to get updates for my oneshots/imagines, just message/comment)

[rorichuu]

(never done this before so i apologize if its shite)

would it be possible for like tf2 medic or tf2 engie having a really scout-level stupid gender neutral s/o

one who wouldnt be paying attention to how asleep their foot it and ending up spraining it and then acting like ot was the floors fault

or whod do a backflip off stairs for gum off the ceiling and half a penny

and them like crawling back to their intelligent boyfriend like they just ran head first into an electric fence

(sorry if this was done before lmao)

relationships for dummies — engineer/medic x gn!reader

pairing: engineer/medic x gn!reader (separate)

authors note: THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE LMAOOO this was a remarkable ask thank you so much for sending this in anon - hope you like it :D

disclaimer: none!

MEDIC:

no one knows how you two got together

like nobody knows

some theorize but no one has gotten a definitive answer

but the real reason was that he just loved how absolutely unhinged you were

like you had NO fear to do the things you did

he. fucking. LOVED THAT.

studies you like you're a creature in a jar

medic isn't so much of a worrier, not like engie is

if you're hurt, he can patch you back up like it's no biggie 🙄🙄

and highkey just as chaotic as you are

so you guys are partners in MANY crimes

but he also finds it very humorous whenever you do pretty stupid stuff

if you sprained your ankle because your foot fell asleep, he'd sigh tbh

it's happened so many times

and he told you how to prevent that

so many times

but he's obviously more than willing to help you; he's your crutch when you need him

if y'all are on the battlefield, he's more than likely to be by your side throughout the entire fight

even more than heavy

most of the time, he's just trying to refrain from your usage of the respawn machine with the amount of times you've tripped or tried to perform some kinda stunt

used uber on you once

it was

interesting

obviously he was more than willing to use uber on you

he was so damn curious on how'd you boost and what you'd do

and the thrill of it all?? drunk off of it

he loves you very much

supporter in all of your idiocy!!!

ENGINEER:

i'll be honest

finds it more entertaining than anything

although, he sometimes... worries?

he remembers the time where you tried to slap a sticker on the ceiling and ended up tripping on the ladder scout was (so poorly supporting) and ended up face first with the floor...

medic helped retrieve your lost tooth

engineer kept asking if you were okay that day LMAOOO

but yeah, the dude worries for you sometimes - you can't just go around doing stunts without some fear of hurting yourself!

kind of a helicopter mom of some sorts

but when he isn't worrying about you, and you're doing harmless shit, he finds it HUMOROUS ASF

like when you decided to sit on your foot for too long and tried to walk and just fell

he was laughing and slapping his knee

the old man he is

he DID try and help you up but you fell over again and I swear to god you put the man into cardiac arrest

tries his very best to warn you or help you prevent idiotic acts like these

but he definitely isn't overbearing

he's more of a watch from afar with a beer in hand while he gives you a thumbs up while you nearly drown in a pool with your floaties

he's that kinda guy

and I stand by it

. . .

one time you successfully tried to jump an electric fence (with demo, heavy, and scout as witnesses)

and hey!!! you did it!!! ........on the 7th time!

you and scout are besties I don't make the rules

you guys literally feast off each other's energies

but anyway

you went running towards your boyfriend, calling his name as you stumbled into his workroom.

"Hey, honey bee! What's going- ... on?"

he tried.

he tried so hard not to laugh.

but your frizzy hair and disheveled clothes was too much not to marvel

"What'd you do this time?" He laughed as he was quick to smooth over your crazed hair.

loves you so much

his little firecracker

.

.

.

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of It - Pampering

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, mention of violence between Bruce and Jason.

Word count: 750

Summary: She looks after Jason after he has a bad fight with Bruce.

Masterlist

Jason leaned his head forward, his expression hidden, as she massaged his tense and knotted shoulders. His hair was going frizzy in the steam of the bath, and his skin was buttery from the products she melted in it. Music played softly through the walls from the living room of his apartment. 

He was usually bullish about letting her pamper him, or letting anyone look after him at all, but he was emotionally wrung out tonight. He gave only token resistance before caving. 

He and Bruce were fighting. It was much worse than she had seen before. To her horror, everyone else was grieved but nobody was surprised. 

Jason had dark bruising around his eye and his wrist was in a splint, elevated above the water. The bruising had bloomed so colourful it could only have been earlier in the week, but he didn’t actually tell her at the time. He didn’t know how to talk about the painful things, outside of throwing them back in people’s faces when he felt vulnerable. 

She had to hear about the fight from Babs. 

He made a soft noise as she steadily worked the broad expanse of muscle. She kneeled outside the partially sunken tub. The tension had been slowly seeping out of him since he sank into the fragrant, milky water. Coco-butter, vanilla, and sandalwood coaxed him into letting go.

She had known him long enough to know there was a rhythm to his relationship with Bruce, and his family as a whole. Like a tide, it ebbed and flowed. Sometimes it flooded, breached the barricades and destroyed things, sometimes it withdrew and exposed all the little things normally hidden beneath the waves. 

And given time, it always rolled back. Even if she wished it wouldn’t. 

Now wasn’t the time to be obnoxious about her opinions on his family. She was pretty sure he knew anyway. 

He turned very quiet as she worked out the last of the tension from his upper body, then smoothed her hands over his skin. She pulled him gently to lean back against the back of the tub. She got up to fetch the shampoo. 

His splinted arm reached out as she returned. He wrapped his hand around her leg and tugged her closer. 

Hearing the silent request, she swung her leg around to sit behind him on the lip. A bare leg sank into the water on each side of him. He pulled one over his shoulder and held her calf. He pressed a kiss to her knee. 

She poured hot water over his hair with a jug, carefully shielding his eyes with her other hand.

He began to silently cry. 

She didn’t say anything. She worked up a lather and massaged the shampoo into his scalp. 

“Why do you stick with me?” he asked, his voice rough. 

Because I love you.

She bit her tongue. 

“You make me happy.”

He scoffed wetly. “You can do better.” 

“I can do a lot worse.”

He moved his head as though to look away. Only there was no looking away, no escaping her here. His hand on her leg flexed. 

“I can’t promise you forever,” he said, tone hard with self hatred. “I can’t even promise next week. Or tomorrow.” 

She gently rubbed little circles into the base of his scalp, just behind his ears, as she thought that over, and tried to hide away the ache in her heart. There were no rings or white picket fences in their future, she always knew that. But he would be at her side with just as much dedication as if there was. She knew that beyond any doubt. Jason didn’t know how to abandon people. If he did… he wouldn’t have two black eyes and a shattered helmet. 

It wasn’t fair. To him, first and foremost. She hated it. He couldn’t promise what he did not have. 

“Nobody can promise forever,” she said eventually. 

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Well, liars and fools can. But I don’t want empty promises.”

He grasped her leg tighter.

She rinsed the lather out, shielding his eyes again. 

He tilted his head back against her. His eyes were shut, with shiny tear tracks down both cheeks. The last vestiges of resistance gave out and he went boneless in her grasp. 

She leaned down, trailing her hands down his scarred body to rest over his heart. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and counted the beats, while he fell apart.

Next>>

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ guilty as sin ii ”

jason grace x fem!reader

part two of guilty as sin | pt. 1

a/n the vote was split, so there’s no intense smut but insinuation and make out (overly descriptive bc i didnt want it to be just smutty)

. ݁₊ ⚡︎ . ݁ ⁺₊

Death seemed like a nice concept that night. Everything that had happened seemed like too much. Either Piper was going to kill her or Jason and Piper make up and kill her together. Which was worse? She laid awake in bed that night fantasizing about throwing herself to the wolves or the ocean rocks. These were different from her regular fatal fantasies of Jason, the ones that left her feeling as though her bed sheets were ablaze and all she wanted to do was scream his name. She bit her lip as she looked around the cabin at her sleeping siblings. She was absolutely envious of the peace they all felt.

She never could’ve imagined that Jason felt the same towards her. She started wondering the options, if she did go for him, would she be bad? If she didn't, would she be mad? Or wise? Not wise. She decided she could never be wise. Someone wise wouldn't have let this go one for so long. Someone wise wouldn't be thinking about guys during everything going on. There were so many things to worry about, and instead, she was worrying about a love affair.

She felt her stomach turn and decided to stand up. She walked into the bathroom just to check her hair. It was frizzy from her pillow, so she urgently tried to brush it down, but in a panic, threw down her brush. Unfortunately for her, she did so too aggressively, causing it to slip off and into the toilet.

“Oh my gods,” she whispered, she looked up to the ceiling, “good one, Aphrodite.” She huffed, deciding to leave it there. She slowly walked out of the bathroom, to the cabin door. She took a deep breath as she left her cabin. She tried to be quick, so no one saw her.

She reached cabin one, knocking on the door. There was a shuffle of noise inside before the son of Jupiter opened the door for her. There he stood, wearing nothing but blue pajama pants that were low enough to sow the band of his boxers. She swore that her heart stopped at the sight.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice cracking, “I was just thinking about you.”

She walked in. She swallowed before breathing out questioningly, “Piper?”

He shut the door behind her. He bit his lip just next to his scar, “I broke up with her,” he led her over to his bed to sit with him, “she took it well. She told me that she could feel that I was in love with someone else, she just didn't want to believe it.”

“Did you tell her that it was because of me?”

“She knew before I even had a chance to tell her.”

“I feel awful,” she frowned as she thought of how she must have one of her best friends to feel so low.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” he responded, “I shouldn't have kissed you. I couldn't live with that guilt if I had stayed with her.”

“I shouldn't have thrown that all at you like that,” she admitted, “Annabeth was right.”

“What did Annabeth say?”

She sighed, “that I shouldn't go after you because of Piper. But you have no idea how you’ve haunted me so stunningly.”

“The feelings would’ve killed one of us.”

She chuckled, “what a way to die.”

He smiled, lightly resting a hand on her back. She looked up at him, cupping the smooth skin of his face with her hands, she hesitated before pressing her lips against his. His muscular arms wrapped around her to pull her onto his lap to straddle him. His hands wandered to grip onto the bottom of her.

“Jason,” she hummed as she let her hands move down to now be feeling his abdomen.

He smiled into the kiss before his tongue carved its way into her mouth. He leaned back, letting her hover him. Their kisses got sloppier as they both grew impatient. The way his lips felt was so different from her dreams and fantasies of him. His lips weren’t as soft as she imagined, they were chapped but she couldn't even pay attention to that as they were slowly pulling at her own. His calloused fingers trailed up her shirt, drawing circles on her back.

Her body tensed as she felt an electric shock course through her.

He froze, quickly pulling his hand away, “I’m sorry, my gods, are you okay?”

She nodded, “I’m fine,” she leaned back into him, “do that again.”

“What?”

“Do it again,” she mumbled against his lips.

His hand traced her stomach, he locked his eyes with hers waiting for a signal. When she nodded, he took a deep breath before gently shocking her again.

She let out a soft groan, “oh my gods.”

He worriedly looked up at her, “was that okay?”

She brushed her lips against his, “yeah, thanks.”

He smirked, “thanks?”

She laughed, bringing her hands to brush along his cheekbones, “you know what I mean.” She rolled off of him, she awkwardly scooted to now be leaning on the headboard of his bed.

He smiled at her before crawling up to be in front of her. He connected their lips once again, her body now pressed against his pillows, which cushioned her as he pinned her further into his mattress.

His lips suddenly stopped moving. He opened his eyes just to look at her and really examine every inch of her face.

“What?”

“Sorry,” he whispered, “you're just beautiful.”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks, “thank you.”

He wetly kissed her jaw, “it’s true.”

“Hm,” she grinned as she began to thread her fingers through his hair, “you're not too bad either, Grace.”

He nibbled at the skin of her neck, carefully marking her up, blowing on the skin after leaving his mark. She knew in the morning she would be playing with her concealer, trying to figure out how to cover it up, but that was a problem for future her. Right now her entire world revolved around the boy who was on top of her.

He reached her chest with his lips. His blue eyes looked up at her like a doe, “is this okay?” he asked as he held onto the edge of her shirt.

“Yes, Jason,” she replied, moving up her arms so he could easily peel it off of her. He slowly did so, making sure she was comfortable the whole time. He threw the shirt onto the floor before turning his attention back to Y/N. Her breath hitched at the cool air of the cabin, but was too distracted by the body heat radiating off of Jason to care.

He continued to softly kiss down her chest and stomach. He began to carefully pull down her pajama pants. “Y/N?”

She looked down at him, “yeah, Jase?”

“You're okay, right?”

She insistently nodded, “of course,” she desperately wanted to follow up with please, please, please touch me, but that seemed a little embarrassing, so she restrained herself.

He hesitated to speak again, “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, “so I don't really know what I’m doing.”

She giggled, “that’s okay, Jason,” she responded, “me neither.”

She felt hair tickling her jaw and arms around her. She turned to see the blond holding tightly onto her as he slept soundly. She grinned, gently brushing her fingers along his bicep.

He looked up, opening his eyes, “good morning,” he smiled. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, his hand felt down her body that was covered by one of his t-shirts, “how are you feeling?”

She moved around to now be facing him, “I’m amazing, what about you?”

“I”m good,” he kissed her lips, a feeling that she could never get enough of, “I just wanted to make sure that you're not in pain or anything.”

“I’m okay,” she held onto his jaw, “I promise.”

He nodded, “I believe you, Y/N.”

She realized then that everything she had been feeling was finally fresh out the slammer.

—

corny ending, sorry

[moonstruckme]

Hello my love! I have a request for a quick little blurby with whoever you think it fits! Basically, the reader has an extensive skin care routine, but she’s sick so all she wants to do is lay bed, but the beautiful man is helping her do it because he knows how much it means to her! Am I projecting? Yes because I’m sick as a dog right now and I didn’t do my skin care routine at all but I just didn’t have the energy to 🥺💕

Hi honey! Hope you're feeling a bit better <3

This isn’t very relaxing lmao apologies, he’s doing his best. And maybe modern au? Because I didn’t feel like researching 80s skincare

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

“Shit,” Eddie hisses when you wince, pulling the washcloth away to kiss your eyelid. “Keep ‘em shut tight, baby, we don’t want this stuff getting in there.” 

“They are shut.” Your face pinches as he continues to scrub at your lashes with the washcloth. “I’m just not usually this rough with them, Eds. You’re going to tear out my eyelashes.” 

“Doing this?” He sounds dubious. “They can’t be very hardy, then.” 

“They’re not.” 

“Okay, okay.” He swipes the last of your mascara off a bit more delicately. “I can’t believe you went to work like this. I told you you were way too sick to go.” 

“I was fine this morning.” 

“You almost passed out pouring your cereal.” 

You open your eyes to stare him down, daring him with your whole face to push you. You’re way too exhausted for this. “I’m calling in tomorrow, okay?” 

“You bet you are, trouble.” 

You open your mouth to snipe at him, but Eddie swoops in for a kiss as he finishes with your makeup remover and you sink back into the mattress, nullified.

“What’s next?” he asks sweetly. “That watery shit?” 

“Toner, yeah. Thanks.” 

He makes a sound like you’re welcome, a bit of cheek to it. You decide it’s probably deserved, since you keep disparaging him while he’s doing you a favor. 

Eddie wets your washcloth with toner, passing it over your skin before reaching for your serum. You close your eyes as he brings the dropper just underneath them, like he’s seen you do a million times, and dribbles the glossy liquid onto your skin. He’s quick to chase it with his fingers, murmuring expletives under his breath as some of it drips onto your pillow before he can get it. You laugh, and he pinches your cheek meanly. 

“Stay still, or I’ll get it in your mouth.” 

You quickly smooth your face into expressionlessness, your poker face immaculate, and then Eddie laughs too. You open your eyes at the sound. 

Eddie’s eyes hover above yours, lashes kissing as he grins toothily. A few frizzy curls have escaped the ponytail he’s confined the rest in. They tickle your cheeks when he moves, using his finger to distribute some of the serum onto your chin. 

“You got it all over?” you ask him. Softly, like his proximity requires a hushed tone. 

Eddie's thumb digs into your chin fondly, his smile broadening. You can see his canines. “Yup. You’re all shined up, sweet thing. How long do you leave it for again?” 

“Until it dries.” 

“And how long’s that?” 

You shrug. “Ten, fifteen minutes. It doesn’t have to be all the way dry, just mostly.” 

He nods. You listen to the passing of cars outside, the beginnings of crickets as darkness falls. Eddie starts sweeping his thumb back and forth over your shoulder. 

“You look so fucking pretty,” he says quietly, “even though I know you’re the plague personified right now. How do you do that?” 

Try as you might to tamp it down, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your features. “Every night when you go to sleep,” you tell him, “I take a little bit of your hair and use it to brew a potion in the kitchen. I’m slowly stealing your beauty, bit by bit.” 

“Fucking knew it,” he growls, dipping his head to nip playfully at your neck. 

You yelp and set your hands on his shoulders, warning him breathlessly about getting his hair in your serum. 

“Fine,” he relents. “I know you’re full of shit anyway. You’ve been this killer since the day I met you.” He flashes a grin, canines and all. “And I only get more beautiful with time, so I know you’re not siphoning it off me. Nice try.” 

“You’ve got me there.” You smile back, but it’s a half-hearted effort. 

Eddie makes a low humming sound, thumb once again rubbing your shoulder. “You okay, baby? Your chest still hurting?” 

“No, it’s not as bad.” The words leave you in a thoughtless sigh, and Eddie frowns, bending over to press a chaste kiss to your sternum. The sweet gesture pushes up against the pressure already thick and uncomfortable in the back of your throat. “I’m just really tired,” you admit, and to your mortification the words come out with a teary edge. 

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, only a flicker of concern passing over his face as his hand moves to cup the side of your head, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. 

“Hey, that’s okay. You can go to sleep, I’ll finish up here. S’just the moisturizer left, right?” You nod, swallowing, and he mirrors you. “I can handle that. Get some shut eye, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” 

You let your eyes close, the steady movement of Eddie’s thumb on your temple easing you towards slumber, because you know he will.

[teddyeyeseddie]

The Cherrywood Motel

Starry Haze, Crystal Ball

rockstar!Eddie x housekeeper!reader

masterlist

(a/n: ITS BACKKKK AND SO AM I!! Enjoy my lovelies and visit my blog for some life updates!)

warnings: soft eddie, smut, minors dni, oral (fem rec), p in v, cream pie x 2, riding, showering together, a jump from last chapter.

now playing:

You lug all your clothes into the laundromat down the street, heaving the heavy bag onto the table before you once you’ve made your way inside. The smell of bleach and laundry detergent mixes in your nostrils as you sort your piles of dirties.

It’s early in the morning, the only person in the place being you and an elderly woman. You enjoy the quiet, only the soft whirring of the dryers breaking the silence.

You separate your lights from darks, throwing your first load in when a familiar voice resonates through the quaint room.

“Shit- fuck,” you look over to see Eddie struggling with a bag of laundry. You chuckle to yourself, your eyes meeting his. His face lights up when he sees you.

“Hey stranger,” he breathes out as he settles in at the table next to you.

“Hi Eddie,”

Ever since Eddie woke up in your bed, things had been different. Eddie seemed happier, his demeanor not so jittery. You talked more, Eddie revealing more about his life.

You learned he was really a dork. Knows a little too much about horror movies, still plans D&D campaigns for fun, and collects mugs from every new place he goes.

He’s become softer, more himself in the last few days. You found yourself getting closer to him, his magnetic force drawing you in with every little conversation.

His captivating personality had you expressing more things about yourself, like your favorite flower, how you got the scar on your shoulder, and all about your childhood cat, Mr. Snuffles.

Talking to Eddie when he was sober was easy, he didn’t go on unnecessary tangents, he wasn’t as flirty and he looked oh so pretty when he was healthy.

His usual red eyes now pure, no sign of distress in them. He even started taking care of his hair, his usual frizzy locks now smooth and curly. He was doing better. You were proud of him.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today,” he says, pulling out all of his clothes and settling them into a pile. He gathers them all in his arms, walking towards a washer.

“Aren’t you gonna sort them?” you ask, chuckling to yourself as Eddie struggles with the large amount of clothes he has in his hands.

“I never do?” he says as if it's almost a question.

“Well, I’m sure you have some 200 dollar shirts in there that are begging to be sorted,”

“My uh- lady at home usually does it. This is how I used to do laundry when I was a kid,”

You roll your eyes, motioning for him to come back to the table.

You sort his dirty clothes for him, it feels pathetic but the smile he has on his face as you help him makes it somewhat worth it.

“You’ve gotta sort lights from darks. I’d suggest separating your whites too but I don’t want you to keel over,”

He chuckles, grabbing the pile of darks and carrying them to a washer. He puts in his quarters, handing you some so you can start the pile of lights.

“So what are you up to for the rest of the day?” he questions as he strolls back to the tables where your clothes still lay.

“Nothing really, apartment hunting for a little bit and then back to the motel,” you gather your pile of clothes, turning towards the washers and placing the items inside. Eddie swoops in front of you and puts quarters in for you, you playfully roll your eyes but smile up at him nonetheless.

“Oooh, that should be fun,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “I uh- owe you for bailing me out so just let me know what you need for the security deposit and I’ll write a check,”

“Thank you Eddie, but you don’t have to. I lost your jacket, I bailed you out, were even,”

Eddie shakes his head, curls flying in all directions at the erratic movement.

“Someone stole my jacket from you, you didn’t just leave it for anyone to take. Plus I can,so let me,” he states, eyes locking with yours in a stare.

“Just let me, it’s the least I can do-” you nod your head, allowing the man to help you pay your way into a new apartment.

A feat that was easier said than done, you had looked at 5 separate places with Christa, none of them being anything close to what you wanted or needed.

You finally decide to call it quits and return back to the hotel, smiling when you see Eddie waiting outside your door with a pizza box in his hand. Christa sends you a wink as you get out of the car, a soft “enjoy yourself” falling from her lips.

Eddie grins widely when he sees you step out of Christa’s car.

“Sorry- thought you were home from your hunting,” he motions towards your car that is parked a few spots down from your door.

“Kinda got stuck at our last place. Creepy landlord,” you straighten out the pleats of your skirt as Eddie sucks in a breath in through his teeth, wincing dramatically.

“At least you dodged that bullet,” he says as he leans against the doorframe waiting for you to open it, his slim shoulders doing a good job at boxing you in. The smell of his cologne makes your mind whir, gone are the days of dried puke and alcohol.

You unlock the door, Eddie’s hand pushing it open forcing you to duck underneath his arm. He lets the door close softly behind him once he is inside, being sure to lock the deadbolt.

He places the pizza box on the small table by the window. He draws the curtains, blocking out the rest of the world and turning the room into a space that was only for the two of you.

“Got your favorite,” he motions to the box with his thumb as he walks up behind you. You’re stepping out of your shoes when Eddie’s arm snakes around your front, under your arm and resting on your collarbone. He’s come over every night since the cleaning fiasco, you talk about the ten-day-whirlwind that the two of you have embarked on and get to know eachother even more.

Eddie spends most of his time apologizing when you recall anything from the short time of knowing him, ashamed of how much he had hurt you.

It’s been a week of take-out, today bringing you to day seventeen. Ten days of hell and seven of something in between a raging fire and a rumbling earthquake- scalding your skin and shaking off the dust settled deep in your soul.

His arm comes undone from you, his hand tracing down your tricep, over your elbow, ghosting down your forearm, finally grasping your hand as he draws you towards the radio sitting in the corner of the room.

Eddie liked to dance- he twirled to what he called your “teeny bopper” music, he swayed his hips to country music, he even danced to his own music when you forced him to listen to it one night.

Eddie danced with you tonight- his fingers fit perfectly through yours, his hand rested right in the dip of your waist, his lips looked pretty in this light.

“Are you thinking about kissing me, sweets?” He questions, a smile forming on his lips as he leans forward. You blush nervously, nodding your head. His smile gets even wider before he leans in, lips capturing yours.

Both his hands come to cup your face, cheeks tugging and eyes crinkled as he leans in further. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, pushing backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. You pull away, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for Eddie to take the reins. He chuckles softly before capturing your lips in another soft kiss before pulling away and plopping down onto the couch. He pulls you into his lap, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, all the way to your shoulder.

His eyes meet yours, his hands fumbling with the edge of your sweater. A plea on the edge of his lips as he looks up at you. You nod, letting him remove the garment from your body. He audibly moans at the sight, your breasts bouncing freely only leaving you in your skirt.

“Please tell me you have panties on,” he mumbles, hand snaking down to your center. He bites his lips and groans when he’s met with your sticky folds.

“S’ laundry day,” you giggle.

His fingers trace through your slick, he has half a mind to shove the fingers in your face, make you lick yourself off of him. But When he glances over your face, your pouting lips and furrowed brow send his heart racing. He decides right then that you're an angel. He thinks there’s no way you're real, there is absolutely no way you’re here with him.

He wraps his arm around your waist, standing from his place on the couch. He walks you back to the bed as you kiss up the side of his neck. He lands you on the middle, arms caging you in as he leans down to kiss you. He’s much slower this time, desperate clashing of teeth melting to well thought out movements.

You pull away from him, hands coming to mess with the edge of his old band tee.

“You’re much too dressed for the occasion, Mr. Munson,” you giggle out. He smiles down at you, getting up to strip out of his clothes. You hold your breath when he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing out and slapping against his belly. It’s big and you’re sure he knows it.

He crawls back up the bed, kissing from your ankle to your neck. He splays kisses across your face, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

His eyes bore into yours as he pushes some hair from your face before kissing you again, but he pulls away much too quickly for your liking.

“M’ gonna eat you out now, kay’?” he mumbles against your lips, you nod, throwing your head back as Eddie begins to kiss back down your body. He stops at the waistband of your skirt, mumbling something to himself before hooking his fingers in the band and pulling the fabric over your bottom.

He moans at the sight of your center, leaning forward to press a kiss to your thighs before diving in completely. He licks from your hole, up to your clit, tongue dancing around the bundle of nerves. Your knuckles grip the white sheets, mind reeling as he works you up to an orgasm. He laps at your pussy, pulling away to spit on his fingers.

His ringed fingers come to push through the sticky mess the two of you have created, one finally pushing in, drawing a guttural moan from your lips. The cold metal of his rings bump against your skin every time he thrusts his fingers in and out. He works you up to three before pulling them out completely, mouth still assaulting your clit, causing you to squeal.

“You ready f’me?” he questions, mouth still between your legs. You tug on his hair, pulling him away from your center, nodding profusely with a smile on your face.

He pushes you further up the bed, settling in between your legs. His cock nudges at your hole, the tip catching inside, you mewl quietly when he pushes in. He leans down, arms settling on either side of your head, his hair tickling your nose as he looks down at you intently.

“So pretty,” You mumble, hand coming up to cup his cheek and draw him into a kiss. He smiles into it, pulling away and admiring the way your face contorts every time he punches that spongy spot inside you.

“S’ all you, sweets,” He moans, forehead pressing against yours as he drives into you. The pace he sets draws moan after moan from deep within you.

Your hand stays cupping his face, kissing him again, your lips barely brushing his when he pulls away.

“C’mon pretty girl, tell me what it is. Wanna know what I should be moaning while I ruin you.”

You shutter a breath out- your name falling off your lips and into the air.

“F-fuck..” he’s full on smiling, his eyes crinkling as he languidly thrusts inside you.

“Eds-Eddie. M’ close,”

“Shit-ok. Where do you want me?” He picks up his pace, cock nudging at all the right places.

“Inside- want you inside,” Your legs lock around his waist, forcing him to bury himself to the hilt as he spills inside of you.

He’s giggling when you finally release him, pulling his still hard cock from inside you and smearing around the mess that has formed between your legs.

“Look so good painted all pretty for me. Could take a picture and look at it all tour long. Would never haveta’ look anywhere else. Just me this little memory and my hand,” he’s pulling your ass cheeks apart, releasing them before his thumb hooks into your pussy as he rummages around on the side table- careful not to knock down the countless polaroids around the camera.

“Can I sweets? Take a pretty little polaroid of this pretty little pussy?” he thrusts his thumb in further, drawing more cum out of you. You giggle when you feel it run down your thighs as you give him a soft hum in response to his question.

He snaps a picture of your most bare area, the idea makes you blush but then there's the idea of Eddie- using it. That makes it feel alright.

“Just wanna take one more,” he says as his cock nudges at your hole again, the puffy skin wanting to scream no but the burn short circuiting your brain at the same time.

He snaps another picture once he’s half inside you, your hands covering your face as you giggle.

“Enough of that,” he says with a small chuckle as he tosses the camera back onto the bedside table. His hands grip your hips as he lazily thrusts into you.

After finally having enough of Eddie’s teasing, you push at Eddie’s belly, signaling him to stop. He flashes you a confused look as he pulls out but soon gets the idea once you scramble off the bed and begin pushing him towards the couch.

He flops down onto the cushions, legs spreading wide. Deft fingers wrapping around your hips as you sink down onto him, your arms snake around his neck and pull at the hair sitting at the nape.

Eddie looks up at you in awe, his eyes never leaving yours as you ride him. His lips are parted, soft breaths and moans tumbling from his mouth.

“Shit- baby I- I can’t last like this-” He groans as he tries to stop your movements. You grab his hand, raising it and placing it on your breast.

“C’mon sweets, come in me again,” He moans sweetly at his own pet name being used against him, his hips stilling once he is settled inside you. He buries his head in your neck as he comes, teeth biting in as he silences himself.

You let him stay inside you for a while, finally pulling off of him when Eddie begins to rub at the skin on your hips.

You’re up on wobbly legs, shooting Eddie a glare when he begins to chuckle.

He throws his hands up in defense and motions to the mess between his legs. Cum has dripped down his balls and pooled in his seat.

“Gonna need to spot clean this one miss housekeeper,” He winces as he gets up, collecting you in his arms and placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Let’s shower, yeah?”

You nod, taking his hand as he guides you to the small porcelain tub. He turns on the water, testing it with his fingers before stepping in once it has warmed up. He extends his hand to you, thanking him quietly once you're standing before him in the tiny shower.

He takes a step back, moving out of the spray and allowing you to warm up under the water. You take turns getting your bodies warmed up, Eddie finally assuming his position behind you washing your hair.

“You mentioned tour,” you blush as you recall the memory from moments ago. Eddie’s stops scrubbing your scalp and sighs.

“I- I’m leaving,” he says in an almost whimper.

“Oh, when?”

“Two days,”

[vorfreudevortex]

a portrait of us - eight

a nanami x reader smau

masterlist

warnings: angst lol, slow burn, swearing, a little ooc, a typo or two

notes: ngl i am starting to hate this story but it's okay!! also I'm drunk but I'm posting this anyways idc. also - written portion - 1.3k words (?!!). i'm finding it impossible to not write long ass parts. also pls feel free to request or ask me anything bc i don't like this smau and need something to distract me in between writing it <3 love u bye

as the car pulled up to the museum’s front entrance, you shakily smoothed your hair and dress with one hand, the other clutching a crumpled sheet of paper with your speech.

you couldn’t decide which was more pitiful. the frizzy flyaways escaping your hastily curled hair? or the piece of stationary, painstakingly flattened but still creased, one of the thirty-two drafts you’d written, retrieved reluctantly from the hotel floor?

the driver parked as an attendant opened the door, offering a hand to help you out. the museum director approached with a reassuring smile, and a suit probably worth more than thirty of your paintings combined.

the driver parked an attendant opened the car door and offered you a hand to help you out. the director approached you with a comforting smile and a suit that probably cost more than 30 of your paintings combined.

“welcome! how are you feeling?”

“to be honest,” you replied with a nervous smile. "I'm terribly anxious.”

he chuckled, holding the front door open for you. “that’s perfectly natural. don’t worry! the patrons will love you and your work. anyone would be foolish not to.”

“thank you, director…” you murmured, his words doing little to calm your trembling hands.

the head assistant joined your walk to the gallery hall, peppering you with one question after another.

“the catering service has just finished setting up. would you please take a final sample of the gyoza and ohitashi? they don’t look quite the same as they did during the original tasting…”

“we have a very important guest from malaysia… would you like me to introduce you two when she arrives? it would be a shame if you didn’t at least find time to say hello…”

“are you absolutely certain about the painting for the final reveal? i know you said it’s special to you but the other assistants and i agreed that the other one would-”

“alright, that’s enough questions,” the director interjected as you neared the gallery hall. you let out a small breath of relief. you thought you might burst if another word came out of the assistant’s mouth. “please go make sure the waiters have the champagne chilled and poured.”

“thank you,” you whispered to the director as the assistant walked away.

“please, don’t thank me. they can be so overbearing. sometimes, it’s better to just let things flow as life means them to,” he replied with a smile.

“yeah…” you replied, glancing at your paintings, their eyes seemingly judging you.

“i can see you’re terrified, and that’s okay. you’ve never done this on such a big stage before!” he laughed. “but truly, it’s not all that different than a smaller exhibition.”

“i don’t think i deserve to be here.”

“if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be.”

you looked at the director, letting his words calm your nerves a bit. your gaze wandered to one of your paintings, a vibrant reinterpretation of jeanne: spring by édouard manet, now alive with bold reds and yellows. 

it was both different and familiar, evoking nostalgia even in those who knew the original. the abstract strokes depicted a striking dark-skinned woman you had met in the park, with bright orange braids cascading down to her waist, her skin glowing against the polka-dotted umbrella she carried.

upon meeting her, you had eagerly asked to paint her, offering what little savings you had left in return. she had given you a sideways smile and agreed, letting you capture her portrait for free.

over the next week, you posed her in your small apartment, finding moments between both of your busy schedules. when you finally showed her the finished piece, she grinned again and said, “oh sweetie, you’re gonna be big one day.”

though she couldn’t be here in tokyo, her spirit was with you, embodied in the painting with that sideways smile even the umbrella couldn’t overshadow.

"onee-san!"

your attention shifted from the painting to the other side of the room, where a group was led by itadori yuji and his toothy grin.

"itadori-kun!"

“and me! hello?” satoru added playfully.

“of course, you too,” you smiled. “thank you for coming, i'm so thrilled you’re here. you all look amazing!”

“no, you look amazing. and i wouldn’t miss this for the world,” satoru said, hugging you. "onee-san, i want you to meet all my students!”

as he finished introducing you to the first and second years, a warm hand rested on your shoulder. you turned to see an old classmate, now with long hair and a familiar pair of boots.

“shoko ieri, take my shoes off right now!” you laughed, throwing your arms around her.

“um, no way. you never even wore them when you had them,” she teased.

shoko's expression softened as she noticed the tears welling in your eyes. she looked just the same, but you couldn’t help noticing the worry lines between her brown, evident even with her smile.

“i didn’t think i'd see you again,” she said quietly.

“me neither… i'm so-”

“-stop talking,” she interrupted. “we brought gifts for you!”

you let go of shoko while yuji held out a large bouquet of blue and pink daisies.

“oh, stop it!” you exclaimed, taking the flowers. “they’re beautiful. thank you all so much!”

“we’re not done yet! there’s more,” satoru said slyly, holding out a small black box.

your heart nearly stopped when you pried the lid open to reveal a large pearl pendant on a gold chain.

“you-”

“-there’s more. look under the velvet,” shoko urged. you carefully lifted the padding to reveal a check with the note “a commission for the staff and students” made out for…

“ten million fucking yen?!”

“whoa, language!” satoru laughed. “kids, go run and play or something.”

“shoko, did you know about this?” you panicked as the students filed away with quiet giggles. “i seriously can’t accept this!”

“yes, you will,” shoko retorted, crossing her arms.

“a commission for what?”

“girl, did you even read the check?” satoru huffed playfully. “you’re gonna paint a portrait of the staff and students at jujutsu high. and hopefully, instead of ignoring us, it’ll cover a plane ticket back so you can visit us next year.”

tears welled up in your eyes again, spilling down your cheeks.

“no. seriously. i-no! i can’t accept this! this is an insane amount of money for a commission like that. i'll paint for you guys for free. and you’ll return this necklace because i know you spent too much money on it, too.”

“stop talking and just accept the gift,” shoko urged.

“but i don’t deserve it.”

“now you’re just spouting nonsense,” satoru said as he placed a hand on your shoulder and turned you toward the gallery entrance. he pointed at the large banner bearing your gallery information. “what does that banner say?”

“it says my name,” you sniffled, still clutching the flowers and box.

“no, idiot. i'm talking about the quotes.”

“um…” you blinked away tears. “someone truly exceptional…?”

“and?”

“a modern-day van gogh…?”

“one more.”

“art that every being should hope to be privileged enough to experience.”

“good job, you can read!” satoru smiled, giving your shoulders a slight shake. “some snobby rich art critics said that about you. now, stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself and make sure everyone has their attention on you tonight.”

“and deposit the check when you get home,” shoko added.

“yes, please deposit the check,” satoru agreed. “if you lose it, i'll be pissed.”

you wrapped your arms around satoru and shoko, squeezing tight in tearful appreciation. they had no idea… the check would cover over a year’s worth of rent, premium canvases, all fine-haired brushes you could ever want, and even a payment on a car. you swore to yourself that you’d pour your soul into painting them a fucking masterpiece.

“now let go,” satoru said, pushing you away. “and go impress all these high-class art people.”

“okay, okay, i'm going!” you smiled with a sniffle.

wiping your tears away, you waved at your classmates as you walked further into the gallery to greet the small crowd that had arrived. sometime during your conversation, your hands must have stopped trembling.

“you’re gonna be just fine,” you thought to yourself with a grin.

next: part nine

tag list // @bubybubsters @sad-darksoul @corvid007 @kenqki @ikon-teen

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

I Swear To You

Frank Castle x Reader Requested:

Hello my lovely writer, I'm in great need of some protective care taking fluffy angsty Frank Castle fic. And so I was wondering if you are interested in my request =) please let me know what you think. Frank has a cute new neighbor. They ended up talking a lot, Frank even flirting with her, but doesn't have the guts to make a move. One evening she was on a date which went sideways. The creep drugged her. As she notices something is wrong she snuck out of the bar calling a taxi to go home as fast as she can. He manhandled her as he notices she waiting for a taxi but she makes it home... She barely made it to pay the driver as she stumbled to her door to out if it from her spiked drink, so she isn't able to open her door let alone find her key. She collapses at Sehr front door, lying in the Cola night (maybe she hit her head pretty badly when going down). Frank comes home and finds her in feoneof her door. She's hypothermic and he notices her weird state and knows instantly she was drugged. So he takes care of her and her wounds and tries to warm her up. He nurses her back the next days

I hope you like it and thanks for requesting, and sorry for pushing this out for too long.

TW: Mentions of dru-gs, mentions of SA, puking, a terrible man doing terrible things

Frank was a goner. The moment he spotted you at the end of the hallway, gently balancing on your high heels, dress hugging your curves perfectly, hair and makeup done like you were ready to walk the red carpet, he knew he messed up. He messed up when he let his facade fall, and let you see the real him. Or part of him. Nothing was out of place, he came back from work, catching your right opposite of his door, going to a walk, to get a coffee, to meet up with your friends. You greeted him just the same, but your smile was giddy, a little bit too wide for a regular day.

He was oblivious to a lot of things, but even he could see that you are going to a date. And the guy is pretty fucking lucky tonight. He could see you wanted to impress, and you already won, because he was fascinated. He took sneaky glances, tried to act casual when you eyes spotted him walking towards you, shoulders heavy with a long ass day behind him. You greeted him as usual, asked about his day as usual, but he just couldn't act like usual. He had to acknowledge how beautiful you looked, and he did just that. A compliment, then a hidden question to confirm his suspicion. Your hips swayed as you walked away from him, giggling at his compliment, dissepearing into the night.

He was in deep. Too deep.

*

You had a good time, the best since a while. He was charming, charismatic, a kind face with a killer smile. Smooth talk, lingering touches. He was literally perfection. He really was.

As the night progressed, your glass never emptied out fully, he made sure you had plenty to drink. You didn't think much of it, his glass was the same, always full, often smiling into the golden liquor that grazed his lips. You ate, but surely not enough for the amount of drinks you consumed. How much did you really drink? You couldn't recall when your vision started to feel so tunnel like, or how your head felt heavy like a brick strapped to it. The more you felt it, the often his smile faltered.

First you thought you were just tired, haven't ate enough, that's why you are being a lightweight now. But in the back of your mind something told you it wasn't that. You only drank wine, wine that most of the time brought the frizzy numbness to you and the giggles out from you, meanwhile right now, you feel like you drank an entire cupboard of alcohol.

He is closer now. Pulled his chair next to you sometime you don't remember happening, if you saw it, you already forgot it. His breath fanning you ear as he speaks to you, something along the lines of going home, having a good time, taking it somewhere more private.

You wonder if you can walk to the restroom, or even stand up on your feet. You never had to wonder. Alcohol never made you think you physically can't move your body as you want. Panic have settled in your bones, silently urging you to do something. Anything, just to get away from him. You felt his fingers grazing your thigh, pushing your dress higher with every stroke, his voice still murmuring into your ear, although you cannot understand what he's saying.

You excuse yourself, trying to mimic you half an hour ago self. Flirty and joyful, you try to laugh it off, telling him you have to freshen up, telling that you have to pee badly, giggling while admitting it. You must act good, because when you slip off the chair, his warmth doesn't follow, nor his voice. You heart is beating rapidly in your chest, probably the only thing that you can concentrate on to not fall face first to the ground.

You are so fucking hopeful you walk somewhat towards to restroom, so he doesn't realize you are figuring your way out of the place.

A cute face emreges in front of you, your body oddly colliding with the person, you hands flying up to steady yourself on their shoulder. You would be so embarrassed if you were sober. It's a waitress, asking you if you are alright, honest concern in her voice.

You mumble something out, praying it makes sense and she'll know what you need.

"You want to go home? Want us to call a taxi?" She asks with a comforting voice. "Do you need us to call someone?"

Frank's name comes to mind first, and you silently scold yourself for never asking for his number.

"Hmmm, no."

"Let us call a taxi, yeah love?" She says, gently pushing your body forward with her hands eloping you in a side hug. Everything is blurry, your vision only picking up bits and parts of the world around.

You were more than sure that he put something in your drink. If your body wasn't so numb, you would be an erratic mess right now. Your senses are limited, everything comes and goes like a dream. You are not even afraid what he had put in your drinks, you just want to get away from him far away enough so he cannot talk the sweet lady out of helping you. You momentarily feel the cold breeze outside before the early winter air hits you in full force, the cold easing your flaming skin.

"HEY, excuse me. Where are you taking her?" The hair stands up on your whole body from his voice. Sweet, hidden malicious. "No i won't take a step back, where are you taking my girlfriend? Honey look at me!"

You don't have anything in you to respond. You just want to go home.

"Sir you need to leave her alone."

Hushed voices follows movement, softly pushing and pulling you around. Where is your purse? Did you left there at the table? You have your phone and wallet in it, you'll need that.

"My purse, my phone.." You mumble, feeling your body lowered to a flat surface.

"It's in your hands love, take care." The lady says, her voice is distant. You squeeze your hand, feeling a tiny little strap in your palm confirming your fingers are locked on your bag. You barely feel the material on your skin.

"Where to?" Your eyes go wide with a new voice calling out. You are getting comfortable at the back of a taxi, an older man looking at you, waiting for an answer, the dim light up on the car's ceiling giving him a really bad angle.

You hear yourself telling him the address, the sound is like someone else and not you. The car goes smoothly, at least that's how you feel it, the seats smell funny, and the lights outside paints a weird image through the windows, your head's starts to spin as you can't comprehend your surrounding no more. You just wish the taxi driver is kind enough to lead you to your door.

You wished and you were so wrong. He calls out to you plenty of times before you manage to get out of the car, almost tripping over your own feet while doing so, trying to give him money for the ride.

And that's it, the car speeds off behind you, leaving you trembling on the sidewalk. Just a few steps right? That's all it takes to get to your apartment.

Your body sways with each drag of your legs, barely standing up. How you manage to get to your door? You don't know, probably will never know. But you eventually do, legs giving out right in front of it, landing on your knees with a sharp pain then ending up on your butt, the ice cold ground burning your skin where it connects.

Your body gives in to the drug in your system, turning the world to black.

*

He took a peaceful walk to the nearest diner, a place he and you are very fond of, often bumping to each other there, one of those times you said yourself how you love the oldschool vibe and the quiet there. Frank only grabbed a coffee to go, the couple of minute walk clearing his messy head, head that is filled to the brim with thoughts of you. It's rare to him, to have something else on his mind than his family or blood rage and revenge. It's refreshing and terrifying. When he left, you weren't home yet, almost two hours after you waved goodbye to him, and he started to feel restless. Two hour isn't too much for a first date? He wouldn't know, even back in the day he wasn't the guy who took girls to a date. His parents raised him old fashioned, but he usually liked the simpler things. Car rides, walks with deep talks, cheap picnic with soda and snacks. So what does he knows about fancy restaurant dates?

It's cold, too cold for the tiny dress you were dressed in, but he would take you home right? He would take you home, making sure you walk in your front door, seeing it close behind you before leaving. But that's him, and he knows for sure not every man thinks like that.

The coffee warming his palm, giving him some sort of comfort to his uneasiness, his eyes searching for the familiar door when he takes a turn to your street.

No lights up yet? Now he's worried. You might went home with him. It's possible, you are a beautiful grown woman, who probably knows very well what she wants. But his jaw clenches nevertheless at the thought. His eyes dart away in shame, knowing he has no right to be mad at you for having a good time.

His head snaps back so quick it hurts his neck, in the corner of his eyes a big dark spot in front if your door that wasn't there before. He blinks for a few times to make sure it's not just his brain tricking him into some illusions. His mind failed him before, showing him terrible things that weren't really there, but the rapid beating of his heart and the pounding in his head is a signal of the familiar danger he encountered so many times before. The type of feeling in his gut when he knows the worst is coming.

And nothing could have prepared him for your frozen body on the freezing ground. In your tiny dress, exposed skin sticking to the concrete, the contains of your purse scattered around.

His instinct kicks in with full force, his hands fumbling for a pulse under your skin. He checks your wrist and neck before pulling your numb body up to his embrace, without thinking twice about who might see him taking you into his apartment. God knows how did you end up there, and he's not risking it if your date shows up at your door, finishing what he had started.

Because why else would you be lying knocked out in front of your home, why couldn't you get in, why else would you loose consciousness if not because of a doing of a horrible piece of shit man?

He is a man on a mission. Something he felt ages ago, and now it's welcomed with a sense of purpose and a sharp sting in his heart.

You are terribly cold in his hands, and he has to hush the voice in his mind that tells him the worst possible outcome.

He rushes to his bed, putting you down on his sheets gently, fingers trembling as he pulls your damp dress off of you, at this point he can't bothered that you are nearly naked in his bed, this isn't how he imagined it. He rushes off, his boots heavy on the creaking wooden floor, looking for the warmest clothes he has in his mostly empty wardrobe. It's a hoodie and sweatpants he comes up with, the best he can offer.

He knows you'll be greatly embarrassed when you come to your senses, so when he removes your undergarments, he tries to do it as respectfully as it's possible. One clothing off and another on, your icy skin burning under his warm hands, the sensation leaving a bad taste in his mouth. A reminder that he has a bastard to find after you are recovered.

His mind is racing, the loud thump in his ears slowly quieting down as he checks for your pulse again, cursing himself that he doesn't have a damn thermometer. He should have called an ambulance, he thinks. But god knows how much time they need to get here, if they ever. He's being selfish. But you are in good hands, he wants to think you are okay with him.

He's greatful for his years in the military, now more than ever. When it comes to himself, he's tactical and precise but numb. Any wound he stitched up and treated is decent enough, but nothing more. His own discomfort and pain is a welcomed guest. But right now it's not his body that is in pain, and he's not allowed to be careless and emotionless. You are wrapped up in his bed, safe and sound, but it's nothing to soothe his nerves.

He grabs a towel from the bathroom, the exact same of the pretty set you gave to him a couple of weeks ago when you saw his own torn up one, insisting he needs it way more than your wardrobe where you kept it since buying them. He gently lifted your head from the soft pillow, neatly covering your damp hair in it, your soft breaths music to his ears, he leans closer, just to confirm you are breathing evenly.

He considers for moment before deciding to open your eyes with his fingertips, his suspicion is confirmed by your blown pupils, the color of your eyes barely visible from the blackness of it. He sighs, rage and anger coursing through his veins, tempting him to get up and find the fucker. It would be easy, so easy. But you need him more than he needs to ease the bloodlust.

Just now he realizes he is still in his coat, sweat glistening on his forehead, his body hot under the layers he should get rid of, dirty boots tainting the already year long stained flooring of his apartment.

He glances over to you, a last conformation you are okay before he himself changes from his street clothes.

He doesn't mean to overstep, but when he goes back to you, and you body is just as cold as when he found you outside, his mind is set. He carefully slips in to the bed, he himself isn't sure how he manages to get under you, he searches for the best way for his body to give off it's heat to you. So you are now trapped between his legs, back laying heavily on his abdomen, hair tickling his bare skin. It's more intimate Frank anticipated, but to be honest, he wasn't debating about it much before doing what his brain told him to do. He would change his mind about the position if he couldn't feel your body soaking up his warmth. It's satisfying, how you take unconsciously, and he's basking in the feeling of giving. It's been so long since he was able to serve gently, in a quiet manner. Like when he ruffled his son's hair, or put the school bag on his daughter back. Or how he played with a single strand of Maria's hair, putting it behind her ear.

So his hands pulls you closer, every part of you hugged by his body, giving and giving everything he has to offer.

*

Your head hurts. No, not hurts, splits into two, even more when your eyes open with a painful sharp feeling behind them. You would groan if your throat would let it slip past the desert that's inside. The rest in your bones mixing with various aches under your skin, and the comfort around isn't enough to reach your body. You are tempted to back to sleep, sure another hours wouldn't hurt, before you mind clears up, shaking the sleep out of you.

It hits you like a lightning. What day is it really? What day was yesterday?

You shot up, dizziness almost pulling you back down with a terrible feeling in your stomach. Before you could comprehend anything that's happening, something is held to your face where soon you empty out the contains of your stomach. A soothing hand appears on your back, trying to keep your hair there while you puke your literal life out. Sweet words reach your ears when your traumatized body calms a little bit down.

"You are alright, sweetheart." It's Frank's voice. "How you feelin'?"

Your grimace, disgust being the only thing you are feeling besides every ache of your body. "It's okay, darlin'. Just breath, let it out if you have to."

You look sideways, seeing him half naked, his body so close you can feel his warmth radiating towards your trembling body. He's concerned face is looking for something in yours, perhaps panic that why he is here with you, or the fact, that you aren't in your own room, or apartment, or why are you wearing his clothes that hangs on you loosely. There is an explanation for it, you know that, and you don't have the will or the energy to be panicked. Despite these thoughts, you heart beats out of your chest, hearing your blood rushing in your ears.

"What happened?" You ask. If you are with him, he's having all the answers. What is the last thing anyway that you remember? You getting ready? Was it yesterday? Your date. You don't remember your date. It's daytime right now, so it's surely passed.

Maybe it's too apparent on your face how you put together the pieces in your head, or he's just panicking at how you are starting to panic that you don't realize. Your shaking body is fumbling with the duvet around you, eyes snapping to Frank then to your surroundings, frantic with your every move. Like an animal cornered.

"Hey hey hey..You are alright! Look at me darling! Look at me." He forces you to look in his eyes, warm and safe, attention seeking. "You were drugged last night, but you are okay, you hear me? You'll have a hell of a day today, but it's gonna pass. Nothing happened, okay? He did nothing to you."

It's sincere. Everything he says he believes. How does he know?

"How..?"

"You know how, sweetheart. Let me get you some water okay? Get back in bed." He commands, leaving you on the side of the bed. So he is Frank Castle after all. You had you suspicion for a while, and you might asked too risque questions he caught on. How does this makes you feel? Kind of relieved, and grateful? You are grateful that your neighbor is a cold-blooded killer?

"There you go. Drink slowly, okay?" He murmurs, a black t-shirt now covering his upper body. You take careful sips, eyeing the man next to you without shame. He does the same, watching intently with so much comfort in his eyes.

"I don't remember anything." You voice is defeated, drained even without using it for hours now.

"I know, i'm sorry." Tears are threatening to fall as your mind tries to navigate the information that you have been drugged.

"What if he.."

"Nonononono, look at me! He did nothing to you. He put it in your wine, let you have too many drink, but he did no more than that!"

You nod. Accepting it. He's the Punisher after all.

He takes your hand in his, planting a faint kiss on top on your knuckles. "You are safe, i swear to you."

You are safe with him.

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi!

I for sure want to read how reader and older!Eddie met!

xx

Bless you for sending this in so I have a reason to post this lol.

This is a prequel to this older!eddie fic for those who are interested! Thank you for reading 💖

Words: 3k

It’s been far too long since you’ve gone out on a girl’s night. Once you all graduated college, it became harder for schedules to align and days off to coincide. But tonight was your first reunion since you had started your first big girl job, and you were excited to be letting loose with your friends. 

“How’s Sean?” your friend Beverly asks your other friend Val.

“Oh,” Val says with a laugh. “I dumped that asshole three weeks ago.”

“Finally!” Lucy cheers. 

You miss what Val says next because your gaze snags on a man sitting at the bar. He’s older than you by a bit—maybe around forty. From where you’re sitting at your table, you see his profile clearly. He has long, curly brown hair, slightly frizzy in the stale bar air. His eyes are large and stubble lines his sharp jawline. Even from this distance you can see how pretty his mouth is and how kissable his lips look. One of his hands is wrapped around a pint of beer, and when you concentrate, you can hear him clinking his chunky metal rings against the glass. 

“Hello?”

Jumping in your seat, you’re startled as you realize your friends have been calling your name. Their laughter rings in your ears as heat rises to your cheeks.

“Sorry. What?”

Beverly looks over to the bar, seeing where your previous gaze lay, then back to you. By the smirk on her face, you know you’ve been caught.

“See something you like, huh?” Beverly asks. 

“What?” you ask, cheeks only getting hotter. 

“Mr. Neck Tattoos over there,” Beverly says, nodding her head in the direction of the man at the bar. Yeah, you’d definitely clocked the inked skin.

“Oh, he’s hot,” Val says. She reaches over and shakes your arm. “Go talk to him!”

“Shit, that’s one hot older man,” Lucy says, the way she’s eyeing him up and down irritating you for some reason. “He’s alone. Go talk to him.”

“He’s probably waiting for someone,” you say, looking down at your drink in front of you.

“Well, let’s see.” Beverly’s words have your heart lodged in your throat. But all she does is flag down your waitress, Phoebe. “Would you happen to know the guy at the bar’s situation? The curly haired one?”

“Him?” Phoebe asks, resting a hand on her hip. She sighs and shakes her head. “Think the poor guy got stood up. He’s been here a while.”

Your three friends all “aww,” turning to you with wide or pleading eyes. 

“Oh, now you have to,” Val says. 

“Cheer him up,” Lucy says. 

“A hot girl like you? Come on, make his day,” Val adds. 

You know they’re not going to let it go. It’ll probably be even worse if you keep saying no. One of them will probably go over there and say something about you and you’d rather have that embarrassment fall on yourself. 

“Ugh, fine, fine!” you concede. “Phoebe, can you get him another of whatever he’s drinking? On me?”

Phoebe nods and heads over to the bar as your friends cheer in excitement. As you stand up from your chair, you flip the group of girls the bird. Knots tighten in your stomach as you smooth down your skirt. Beverly wolf whistles at you and you roll your eyes. Mentally cursing out your friends, you take a deep breath and head in the direction of the bar. 

You see Phoebe slide another drink towards the man, who furrows his brow and says something to her that you’re unable to hear. She shakes her head, and her eyes catch you over his shoulder. With a smirk, she nods her head at you, which has the man turning on his barstool to look. When his eyes meet yours, you feel the knot in your stomach burst into a thousand butterflies. One side of his mouth quirks up in a sexy smirk and you almost trip over your own feet. 

“And here I was thinking this was shaping up to be a shitty night,” he says as you step closer. He pulls out the barstool next to him and you slide on it. “But here comes this beautiful woman buying me a drink.”

As nervous as you feel, you give him the best smile you can as you turn to face him in your seat. Wishing a smooth or flirty line would just come to you like they seem to come to Beverly, you find yourself falling flat. 

“Well,” you say with a shrug. “No one should have to drink alone.” 

“Then don’t make me,” he says, eyeing the lack of drink sitting in front of you. “What’ll you have?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you assure him.

“It’s only fair,” he says, holding up the new pint of beer that Phoebe brought him.

“Vodka cranberry,” you relent. He places your order with the bartender then turns back towards you.

“I’m Eddie,” he says, the smile on his face knocking the air from your lungs. You barely manage to introduce yourself in kind, too flustered after having that bright grin flashed in your direction. “Well, what brings you out tonight?”

“My friends,” you say, knowing that their three sets of eyes are probably boring into your back right now. “Haven’t gotten to spend much time together since college.”

“College, huh?” Eddie asks, taking a sip of his beer. “How long you been out?”

“Trying to ask my age without asking me my age?” The smirk on your face has Eddie dropping his head forward with a small laugh.

“You got me,” he says. 

“I’m twenty-three,” you tell him. “Graduated about six months ago.” 

“And what’s a pretty young thing like you doing, coming over to talk to an old man like me?” He tilts his head to the side, and it gives you a better angle to view the tattoo on the right side of his neck. It’s an old style plague mask, with a long beak and dark eyes. Unsettling anywhere else, but on Eddie? He manages to make it look sexy. 

“You’re hardly old, first of all,” you say. “Second of all…the truth? I was nervous but my friends kept hounding me.”

“So, what, like a dare?” 

“No!” The word comes out almost as a shout, and you shake your head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” You take a deep breath as the heat in your cheeks hits an all-time high. “They saw that I kept looking over at you, so they said I should come talk to you.”

“Why were you looking at me?” The shit eating grin on his face should be annoying, but it’s endearing. 

“Because I think you’re ridiculously attractive,” you admit. You’re very thankful that your drink arrives at that moment because you can pick it up and pretend to be preoccupied with that instead of meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

“Let me assure you, the feeling is mutual.”

Eyes finding his, your heart feels like it’s one beat away from launching itself out of your chest. His dark brown eyes are looking into yours, a hint of amusement and a touch of desire there, and you swear, time stops. 

“So, what’re you doing all alone at the bar?” you ask. When Eddie’s eyes go down towards his drink, you take the opportunity to peek at his hand, searching for a wedding ring. But the way his hand is laid in his lap, you’re unable to see. Leaning back proves a bad idea, as you tilt your barstool too far backwards. Luckily, Eddie’s quick and manages to catch you before the stool can take you down. His left arm is around your waist and his right hand is clutching your arm. Before, you’d thought your face couldn’t get any warmer, but this incident was proving otherwise.

“That one sip go to your head already, sweetheart?” Eddie asks with a chuckle. 

“No, no I’m fine,” you say as you resituate yourself on the chair. “Thank you. Might’ve cracked my head open if it wasn’t for you.” Eddie removes his hands from you – making you instantly miss them – and you make sure to pay special attention to the left one. You feel a surge of adrenaline when you see there’s no wedding band. 

“Couldn’t let that beautiful hair get all bloody now, could we?” There’s a playful smile on Eddie’s lips that ignites a fire low in your belly, one only he’d be able to extinguish. “But, uh, what did you ask me? Oh, why I’m here alone? Well, I was originally supposed to be having a date, but seeing as she should’ve been here over two hours ago, I think it’s safe to say I got stood up.”

“That’s awful,” you say with a frown. Who could possibly be stupid enough to stand this man up? If you knew that Eddie was waiting somewhere for you, you’d make sure you were there with plenty of time to spare.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says with a shrug. “If she had shown up, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. And I’d wager to say this is far better of an evening.”

The shy smile on your lips is involuntary as you duck your head down, taking another sip of your drink. There really was no need for the alcohol though – Eddie was already making you feel light and floaty.

“And how would you know that?” You turn back to face him, resting your elbow on the bar and holding your chin in the palm of your hand. 

“Well,” Eddie says, leaning back a little to stretch out his back. “It was a blind date set up by my buddy, and he knows me pretty well. So, the woman was probably exactly my type, but it doesn’t matter. Because there’s no way in hell she could’ve been as beautiful or sweet as you.”

“You don’t know that I’m sweet,” you say, body tingling all over from his other compliment.

“You came over here to buy an old man a drink. If that’s not sweet, what is it?”

“You’re not old,” you reiterate, poking him in the chest, just inside of his leather jacket. “And, I don’t know, maybe I had an ulterior motive.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at your smirk. “What might that be?”

You’re silent for a moment but can’t come up with anything clever to respond with. “I don’t have one,” you admit with a giggle. At your laugh, his smile grows and it only stokes the embers of the fire within you.

“You know,” Eddie says, leaning closer to you. “Your friends haven’t stopped staring this way since you came over.”

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes fall closed. “Of course they haven’t. Are they being weird?”

“No,” he says with a chuckle. “But they do look like they’re paying their bill. And the curly haired one is coming over here.”

A moment later you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn to face Val. 

“We’re heading out,” she says, eyes glancing over at Eddie. “You okay, or..?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stay,” you tell her. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Make sure you do,” she says, giving you a stern look. It obviously serves as a warning to Eddie as well because it’s true that Val wouldn’t hesitate to call the cops if it got too late and she hadn’t heard from you. Taking her hand, you give it a quick squeeze before she follows your other friends out the door. 

“Seems like you’ve got some good friends,” Eddie says.

“I do. Sounds like you do as well, since one of them set you up tonight.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, wrinkling up his nose. “I don’t think I’m going to let him do that again.”

“Lost faith in him?” you ask with a laugh. 

“That, plus I met someone I think I wanna ask on a date.” He leans in towards you again, and you follow his lead. 

“Oh yeah? Sounds like a lucky lady,” you say, voice dropping. 

“You think?” Eddie asks, sliding his hand down the bar until his fingers brush against yours. 

“Most definitely.” You inch your fingers forward until they intertwine with his. A smile lights up Eddie’s face and it suddenly feels like your veins are filled with carbonation. 

The next few hours are spent with you two sitting at the bar, heads close together as you talk and laugh, hands rarely letting go of one another until last call. Begrudgingly, the two of you vacate your bar stools as the employees start to get the place ready to close.

“Can I give you a ride home?” Eddie asks as he holds open the door for you.

“Mm, you can save the gas. I live in the apartment complex two blocks that way,” you say hooking your thumb to the left. 

“In that case, can I walk you home?” he amends. 

“I’d like that.”

Eddie’s hand finds yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Lacing your fingers together, you tug Eddie in the direction of your home. The evening air has you shivering, and Eddie comes to a stop, forcing you to as well when his hand holds you back. Furrowing your eyebrows at him, you watch as he shrugs out of his leather jacket and slides it over your shoulders.

“What a gentleman,” you say with a smile. “Thank you. Oh! I like your shirt.”

Eddie looks down at his Black Sabbath shirt and grins as he takes your hand in his again.

“Yeah? Thanks. This is from the best days. Before Ronnie James Dio.”

“Who?” you ask. 

Eddie is simultaneously amused by the adorable wrinkling up of your nose and pained that he’s shown his age yet again.

“Jesus, I am old. You weren’t even alive during Watergate, were you? Oh, please tell me you know—.”

“I know what Watergate was!” 

“Just checking,” Eddie says with a laugh. 

“So, how old are you?” you ask, giving him a smirk. “You make it sound like you’re a hundred.”

“Forty-one, thank you very much,” Eddie says, tugging you closer to his body. You laugh as he drops your hand and wraps his arm around your shoulders, shaking you gently. 

“That’s not old!” you say, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow. 

“Yeah, young enough to keep up with you.” Eddie presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you look up at him to see him smirking. 

“So, if I were to break away right now and run the last block to my apartment?”

Eddie chuckles. “Sweetheart, you’re wearing heels and I’m wearing boots. I could give you a head start and still win. Even if you weren’t wearing heels, actually.” 

“Hmm,” you hum, leaning your body against his. “Sexy and confident.”

“Aw, you think I’m sexy?” 

You can hear the smirk growing in Eddie’s voice before you glance up and see it on his face. 

“Very,” you affirm, cheeks heating as you come to a stop in front of your apartment complex. Eddie stops alongside you, taking your hands in each of his own. 

“I think you’re pretty damn sexy, too,” he says. 

Your eyes dip down to the sidewalk between you before coming back up and searching his face. 

“Can I see you again?” Eddie asks.

“I’d like that.”

The relief on Eddie’s face grips your heart like a vice. Did he really think you’d say no? This was one of the best nights of your life. You open your purse and dig out a pen. Eddie looks at his arms and manages to find a spot free of any previous ink where you can write your phone number. You chuckle as you hold his arm steady and write down the digits. 

“Are you free this weekend?” Eddie asks as you put the cap back on your pen.

“I am,” you affirm.

“Would you like to go out to dinner with me?” 

“I would.” You slip your arms out of Eddie’s jacket and hand it back to him. He takes it in one arm, tugging your body closer to his with the other. Your hands rest on Eddie’s chest and slide up to wrap around his neck. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Me too,” Eddie says. He leans in and your breath has just enough time to catch in your throat before his lips press against yours. Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling your bodies closer together as you melt into the kiss. Just as you’re about to part your lips, Eddie’s pulling away, leaving you breathless. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Eddie asks, thumb coming up to rub against your lower lip. You hadn’t even realized you were frowning until you have to school your features into neutrality.

“You stopped kissing me,” you say, pout evident in your tone. 

Eddie chuckles and your pout only grows. “Trying to restrain myself, baby. You’re making me feel like a teenager again.”

“Yeah?” The poutiness in your tone is replaced by pride as a smirk grows on your lips. 

“Uh huh,” he says, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Gotta leave something for the first date too, right?”

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, and he leans in to nip at your earlobe, causing you to giggle.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” Eddie whispers in your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine, making Eddie grin as he pulls back to look at you.

“You better,” you say, trying to sound more composed than you are. 

“Don’t worry.” Eddie shrugs his jacket on before cupping your face in his hands. “I’m definitely looking forward to it more than you are.”

“I highly doubt that,” you tell him. He chuckles and presses one more kiss to your lips.

“Talk to you soon, gorgeous.” Eddie forces his unwilling feet to take a few steps away from you, back in the direction of his car.

“Can’t wait.”

You blow him a kiss, which he pretends to catch with his over dramatic flair—as if he almost drops the kiss on the sidewalk. It’s cheesy and you love it. Giving him a small wave, you take one last look before heading towards your apartment. 

Eddie grins to himself, shoving his hands in the pockets of his black jeans as he walks down the street. He shakes his head.

“Still got it, Munson.”