#if she genuinely ends up head over heels in love with this man I will acknowledge that I’m being a dick and eat my words

[thisultraviolet]

.

[mywritersmind]

hellooooooo! I read yell and flight and let me tell u I was HOOKED. I cannot get fran off my mind the way this man is!!! It’s driving me wild and it’s barely been abt a week or two seeing him all over my socials👩🏻‍🦯‍➡️ I was wondering if you are still taking reqs obviously for fran? I know deep down in my bones that this man is so clingy like physically so maybe like him hugging the reader a lot like alot all the time, like long cuddle sessions just talking abt life?

xxxxxxx thx in advance

SEVEN TIMES WHEN FRANCO COULDN'T KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF - FC43

listen up : no warnings just some kissing!! this is cute so i hope you enjoy <3 franco x girlfriend!reader

word count : 1249

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When I first started dating Franco, it was obvious that his love language was physical touch. Back then however, I didn’t know how much he depended on it.

⋆༺

1. I’ve never been more excited for Franco than I was at that first race in Monza. As soon as I could, I ran to him.

He was still in his race suit, grinning that stupid smile that I so love. He was sweaty and gross and I couldn’t be happier.

“Corazón…” He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder even as I jumped up and down.

“I’m so proud of you!” I pulled him tighter, his curls brushing my face. “That was so sick!” I pushed him back to move my hands while I spoke but his hand stayed on my waist.

He let me recount his own race back to him as he just stared at me dreamily, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He laughed and pulled me in again, kissing me this time.

People cheered and whistled as I smiled against Franco’s lips. He kept that same hand on me all day, holding me close as if the two hours he was racing for was time lost for us.

He never cared who was watching, as long as I was in his arms, nothing else mattered.

⋆༺

2. “Let’s stay here.” He mumbled into my skin, laying completely on top of me with his face on my stomach.

I laughed, running my hands through his hair, “We have to go Fran… You were the one who said we would!” He frowned up at me when I took my hands from his hair.

I slipped my hands back through his waves and he smiled happily again, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist.

I look at his arms flexing against me, “Darling…”

He frowned up at me again, making me laugh and having to physically push him off of me, “Ay no…” He groaned as I stood, smoothing out my skirt.

“Come on!” I had to walk out the door just to get Franco out of the room.

⋆༺

3. We were at a charity gala and I felt like a genuine magnet. A magnet that only attracts Franco's hands. I smirked at him, “Like what you see?” I spun around in my red dress that hit right before my black heels, his hands staying on me as I turned around.

His gaze dragged up my body, nodding silently. Franco is never silent. He gave my waist a little squeeze before kissing my cheek and pulling me into his side.

The whole night, the only time he left my side was when I went to the restroom. He was waiting with drinks when I got back, I can’t help but smile at his stupid face that looks way too happy to be buying things for me.

We ended up talking to Lando and his date, she was definitely a model and honestly I don’t know if he even knew her name. When the girl left, Lando eyed us both, “You’re making me look bad!” He ran his hand through his curls as I rested my head on Franco’s shoulder.

“Not my fault that you don’t like your date!” Franco argued and Lando pulled his lips into a thin line.

“I like her just fine! You two are just disgustingly affectionate.”

⋆༺

4. “I’m just having a hard time, Franco!” I sat on the couch, my head in my hands. We’d been fighting like this for an hour and getting nowhere.

He paced in front of me, turning to me and placing his hand on my chin so I would look up.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as tears ran down my face, sinking to his knees, “I’m so sorry… I know you though. You can get through this.” His hands moved up the outside of my thighs, holding me tight like he always does.

⋆༺

5. I could practically feel Franco’s gaze burning a hole into the man across from me’s head.

He started over to us as soon as he saw the man take a step closer. He cleared his throat, placing his hand on the small of my back as he smiled at the man.

Franco leaned closer to me and the man left in an instant. I smiled softly at him, raising a brow, “Possessive, much?”

He sipped his drink, “With you? Always.”

⋆༺

6. “You look delicious.” I laugh out loud as he says it in my ear, I turn and swat his chest. The club music was loud and the lights were even brighter.

“Franco.” He knows he’s gotten to me, a smirk prominently on his face as he takes my hand in his and pulls me gently out of the crowd.

We make it to the bathroom, one stall, before Franco has his hands on my ass and his mouth on mine. “Needy.” I mumbled into his mouth.

“No shit, have you seen yourself?” I laughed as he pushed me up against the wall, his hand slipping below the hem of my blue dress.

He slips his tongue in my mouth, cupping my face and holding onto my waist tightly. I sometimes forget he’s an actual athlete until he brings his strength into the bedroom. Or in this case… the club bathroom.

⋆༺

7. Franco sat between my legs, my hands in his hair as he intently listened to the football match that was playing.

He's talking about some of the players but I'm busy braiding his hair which is quite hard given the length.

He moved his hands away from his water bottle that he was fidgeting with, playing them on my ankles and making me shiver. His touch is effortless and sometimes I think he doesn’t even realize because he was definitely focused on the game.

His hands slid upwards, brushing over my calf then back down. He repeated this for five minutes until I finished with his partially braided hair.

The game was still playing as he slid his fingers up my legs once more, making me shiver. He didn’t even realize until I pushed my hands over his and his head leaned back to look at me.

He smiled and kissed my hand, turning around and kneeling in front of me.

I watched his muscles move as he extended his arms to wrap around my waist. He looked up at me, his green eyes shining while his hair looked like a mess. “Are you excited for today?” We were in his drivers room, his suit unzipped.

“Yes. Because you’re here.” His hand rubbed against my face softly, like he wanted to memorize every part of me.

“Do you get nervous?”

“Of course. I don’t want to mess up when you’re were.” I frowned at his words, caressing his neck.

“I don’t care what you do, love… as long as you’re safe.” He sighed and laid his head on my knees.

“You that worried?” I nodded. “I don’t want you to be.”

“Well I’m your girlfriend and it’s my job because you chose a job where your life is in danger every weekend.” He laughed at my sarcastic tone, shaking his head and kissing my knee.

“I like that you care. But I promise you corazón, you cannot get rid of me that easily.” He kissed me softly, I kissed him back.

[coolemmasulivan2]

The Woman Next Door

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After winning the Dutch Grand Prix, Lando returns home to Monaco, eager to prove his genuine feelings to his neighbor, especially after their bet.

Word Count: 4181

You're my downfall, you're my muse My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues I can't stop singing It's ringing in my head for you

Lando had been your neighbour for nearly two years, a friendly presence in the building. But with you, his charm seemed to intensify. He flirted casually, his eyes sparkling with a playful passion. "You're my type!" He'd always say. Yet, your heart remained unmoved. The women he brought home were a strong contrast to you: tall figures in designer heels, showing their immense beauty. You, however, were a simple person who preferred simplicity over expensive clothing and felt most comfortable in jeans and sneakers.

Lately, his flirtations had intensified. He always ensured you knew he was single and was waiting for you. His promises of making you happy and treating you right were sweet, but you weren't fooled. Deep down, you couldn't deny a flicker of attraction, but you kept it hidden. Lando was a handsome man, but you'd seen enough to know he was more than just a pretty face.

"How was your family?" Emily asked, turning to you as she drove. She'd picked you up from the airport in Nice.

You smiled. "They're fine! It was great to be back home. I missed them."

"You know who else missed you?" Emily teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Who?" You asked, confused.

"Your hot neighbour! I ran into him yesterday at the supermarket and he asked about you."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Did he?"

"Yeah! He said, 'How's Y/n? I haven't seen her for a while. The building seems quite boring without her.'"

You crossed your arms. "He didn't say that!"

"I'm serious! I told him you were coming back today, so maybe he'll be waiting by your door, ready to confess his feelings. And then... BANG! Happily ever after."

You couldn't help but wince at Emily's over-the-top dramatic gestures. Despite her tendency to go overboard, you couldn't help but love her for it.

"You've been watching too many films."

"You're going to end up together. Mark my words." She replied and you made a gagging sound that made her laugh.

As she dropped you off at your apartment building, you grabbed your luggage and thanked her with a tight hug. You entered the building and pressed the lift button.

As the liftdoors opened, you stepped inside, dragging your luggage behind you. You were admiring your reflection in the mirror when a hand stopped the doors, causing them to reopen.

You turned to see Lando, dressed in a McLaren white vintage t-shirt and black jeans. His curls were perfectly coiffed, and a smirk played on his lips. Like always.

"Look who's back!" Lando's voice filled the cramped lift. "Good to see you."

"Hi, Lando." You replied.

The two of you lived on the top floor, making the lift feel even smaller and slower. "How were the holidays?"

"Fine! Too short." You admitted, the tension palpable. "What about you?"

Lando studied you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your face. "They were good. Family, friends, good weather. But I'm glad to be back to work." The lift seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. "And happy to see you again."

"Here we go!"

Lando chuckled. "What?"

"You know what! You know that flirting with me isn't going to work. I'm not interested."

"But I am!" He said. You quickly looked away, praying for the elevator doors to open. "I'm very much interested."

"To how many girls have you said that?" You asked, your voice laced with scepticism.

"None, believe it or not." Lando replied, his tone sincere.

As the lift doors opened, you stepped out and fumbled for your keys. Lando leaned against the wall beside you. "What can I do to convince you to go on a date with me?"

You took a deep breath, finally finding your keys. He was starting to make you nervous. "I don't think your fans would like to see you having dinner with a woman."

"That's not a problem for me." He said confidently. "I'll have dinner with whoever I want." As you unlocked your apartment door, he continued, "But if that's the issue, we can have dinner at my place, eat McDonald's in my car, anything to make you comfortable."

You pushed your luggage inside and faced him. "Lando…" You began, your voice soft but firm. "I'm not looking for a one-night stand. I want a relationship. A public relationship. I want to go out with my partner, have dinner, eat ice cream, have meaningful conversations on the balcony. I want trust, and I don't want to worry about being cheated on. I want kids and I don't want to wait until my thirties. Marriage isn't essential, but I want this person to be my last. If you want me to go on a date with you, prove to me that you're that person." Lando listened intently, his expression serious. "Bye, Lando!"

You started to close the door, but Lando's hand quickly stopped it.

"Uh, when was the last time you saw me bring a woman home?"

You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure. "What?"

"I haven't brought anyone home since I told you I liked you. Four months ago! I never told you I was looking for a one-night stand. I've always been open about my past relationships and I've never cheated on anyone. I also want to have a family and I'll convince you to change your mind about marriage." You stared at him, speechless. "But if I have to prove myself, I'm up for the challenge!" He said, winking as stepped away. "Bye, Y/n."

You closed and locked your door, your heart pounding in your chest. Your cheeks were flushed. For the first time, he had left you speechless. You'd always dismissed his flirting as a joke, but now you realized that maybe it was more than that.

Later that night, you invited your friends Maria and Lisa over for dinner and a movie night. You didn't want to be alone with Lando next door, and you needed to talk about it.

"He's so into you!" Lisa exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's the classic boy-next-door story."

You set the popcorn and wine on the coffee table. Maria, already a bit tipsy from dinner, was making the most confident comments you'd ever heard from her.

"Just go on a date with him. He's handsome, rich, and lives next door. What more do you want?"

"I want stability, honesty, and someone who makes me happy and laughs with me." You replied.

"He already does that!" Maria insisted. "He was honest with you, you laugh with him, and I'm sure he'd make you happy, if you know what I mean." She chuckled, and Lisa joined in.

"You're drunk!" You teased.

"I am, but I'm still the wiser one." She retorted. "Why don't you just sleep with him? See how that makes you feel."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You know I'm not like that. When I'm with someone, it's because I like them."

"But you do like him." Lisa argued.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Lando was engrossed in a game with Max when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock, surprised by the late hour. He wasn't expecting anyone and it was unusual for someone to just walk into the building and ring his bell.

"Someone's at the door." He told Max, removing his headphones. The doorbell rang again. "Give me a second."

He was taken aback to see your friend, Maria, standing there. Her cheeks flushed and the scent of alcohol was strong.

"Lando, hi!" She slurred.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. One of your other friends was watching from your apartment door.

"Hi, Maria! What can I do for you?" Lando asked, his tone polite but curious.

"Quick!" Lisa whispered to Maria.

"Look, I'm going to the point. Y/n wants to go on a date with you, but she's afraid you only want to get in her pants." Maria blurted out.

Lando crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Is that so? Does she know you're doing this?"

You were nowhere to be seen, and he couldn't believe you'd ask your friends to do something like that.

"Of course not! But we're her friends and we know she really likes you. She doesn't show it, but she does." Maria insisted.

You dried your hands and glanced in the mirror, adjusting your hair before opening the bathroom door.

To your surprise, the girls were gone from the living room, but you heard giggles coming from the door. As you approached, you realized what was happening.

"So, about the date…" You pushed past Lisa, finding Maria deep in conversation with Lando.

You quickly stepped out and grabbed Maria's hand. "What are you doing?" You were panicking.

"I'm helping you!" She whispered, but everyone could still hear her.

"You're not. Come on!" You started walking her back to your apartment, but Lando stopped you by gently grabbing Maria's wrist.

"You can't take her now. She was about to tell me what I need to do to convince you to go on a date with me." He said, smirking. You resisted the urge to slap the smirk off his face.

"She's drunk. She doesn't know what she's talking about." You argued.

"She clearly does." Lando insisted.

Maria nodded in agreement. "Yes, I do. Lando, you just have to win."

You and Lando looked at her, each holding one of her wrists.

"What?" You asked.

"She'll go on a date with you if you win the next race." Maria announced.

Lando smirked and looked at you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker. "We have a deal!"

"No, we don't!" You said, but no one seemed to be listening.

Maria extended her hand for Lando to shake. "Deal! You better win, because I won't be able to help you again." She winked and went inside your apartment.

You looked at Lando, your arms crossed. "That's not going to happen, you know that right?"

"Why? Are you afraid I'll win?" He challenged.

"No!" You replied.

"So, let's do it. If I win, you go on a date with me--"

"And if you lose, you'll stop asking me to go on a date with me!" You added. Lando stood still, considering. "What? Are you afraid you'll lose?"

After a moment, Lando extended his hand. "Fine!" You grabbed his hand and shook it.

The weekend arrived sooner than you'd expected. Lando had qualified P1, making you question your decision to agree to the bet. You were a Mercedes fan, but deep down, were you rooting for McLaren? It was great to see him win again, but was this really the best time to root for him?

You sat on Emily's sofa between Lisa and her dog, Zeus, watching the race. You wore your Mercedes cap, while Lisa and Maria sported their Ferrari t-shirt. Neither of your friends was a McLaren fan, but today they couldn't stop shouting the name of the British driver.

"Oh my god, he's going to win!" Lisa exclaimed.

"Don't jinx it." Emily replied, slapping her arm.

You slumped on the sofa, unable to say anything. Only when the race ended did you let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding. He had won the Dutch Grand Prix. He had actually won.

Your friends jumped in the air, celebrating his victory. You ran your hands through your hair.

"Guess who's going on a date with a hot British driver!" Lisa mocked, pulling you up from the sofa.

"You are!" Emily repeated, jumping around you.

An hour later, you were walking home alone. The Monaco weather was pleasant, and the streets were bustling with people.

As you arrived at the building, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out to see a message from Lando.

Lando: Hope you're free tomorrow night! I can't wait for our date.

Fuck, you mumbled to yourself.

On Monday, you left the apartment earlier than usual. The night before, Lando had knocked on your door, hoping to talk to you, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. The next day, you woke up an hour earlier and left for work, hoping to avoid him on your way out. But the universe had other plans.

As you were leaving the building, you bumped into Lando, who had been out for a run.

He chuckled. "Leaving earlier to ignore me?"

You cleared your throat. "No, I just have a big project going on… and have to go earlier."

"Okay." He said, clearly not believing you. "So, I hope you're excited for tonight."

"I don't-- I don't think I have time tonight." You stammered.

"Well, I already reserved our table, and I don't think you'd back out of a bet. So, I'll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something orange if you have it." He whispered in your ear before walking away.

You'd been thinking about Lando all day, your mind racing with anticipation and nerves.

Upon returning home, you immediately took a long shower and emptied your closet to find the perfect outfit. A nice orange summer dress caught your eye. You couldn't remember the last time you'd worn it, but you recalled how flattering it was with your tan.

When you put it on, it looked even better than you remembered. However, doubts crept into your mind. What if he just wanted to get in your pants? What if this was all a joke to him?

Lando knocked on your door at 7 pm sharp, and a few seconds later, you opened it. Lando struggled to contain his astonishment at your appearance.

You were wearing a cute red dress and heels. Your long hair was wavy and you looked stunning. You always looked amazing, but tonight there was a special glow about you. It was a shame you weren't wearing orange.

"Wow!" He said, taking in your appearance. "You look... beautiful."

You blushed and looked away, trying to hide it. "Thank you." You whispered.

You closed your apartment door, and Lando called for the lift. The ride to the garage was silent, surprising you that Lando hadn't said anything flirty or teased you.

He guided you towards his Lamborghini Urus, and you muttered a silent thank-you that he chose the Urus. Of all his cars, it was the most "normal" on the streets of Monaco.

As you left the garage, you broke the silence. "Where are we going?" You asked over the soft music of the radio.

Lando glanced at you. He looked good in his black pants and white shirt. You loved a man in a white shirt.

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises!" You said.

Lando laughed. "You hate surprises or you hate my surprises?"

You looked away. "Look at the road, Lando."

After a minute or two, Lando spoke again. "You look really beautiful."

Once again, you blushed. Thankfully, it was starting to get dark. "You already said that."

He stopped at a red light, gazing intensely at you. "And if you allow me, I would say that to you every single day." For a moment, his intense gaze made your legs feel like jelly.

The tension was broken only by a car honking behind you. Lando raised his hand in apology and pulled away. Three minutes later, he pulled up at the marina.

"I agreed to a date with you, not to run off." He said, getting out of the car.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and Lando opened your door. He gently placed his hand on your back, barely touching it, and guided you towards a large yacht named Aurora.

"It's from a friend of mine." Lando said as he pulled you towards the yacht deck. "He named it after his baby daughter. He let me borrow it for a few hours." Your mouth gaped open in surprise at the sight of the table for two, beautifully set with roses and candles. "I thought you'd be more comfortable alone." He explained. "Without the prying eyes of strangers or paparazzi."

Once again, he'd left you speechless. The candlelight, the city view, the soft music, and the sound of the water hitting the yacht created breathtaking scenery.

"I didn't picture you as the romantic type." You said.

Lando put his hands in his pockets and looked at you. "I can be romantic… when I have to." You didn't respond, just stared at him. He had two buttons undone, revealing the tan of his chest and the necklace he wore. "Let's sit?" He suggested and you nodded.

He pulled out your chair, demonstrating his gentlemanly side. He sat down opposite you, and a moment later, a man in a black suit approached with a bottle of wine.

The man poured the wine for the two of you. You could tell it was a very expensive wine just by looking at the bottle.

"Cheers!" Lando said, raising his glass. You clinked your glass with his and took a sip. It was delicious. "Do you like it?"

You nodded. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Lando chuckled. "Far from it. I want you to stay sober and experience firsthand how great of a date I can create for you."

"You're really taking this seriously!"

"When I like someone, I always take things seriously." He said, his face turning serious. "I fight for what I want. And it's no lie that I want you."

You swallowed hard, trying to hide your emotions. Before you could respond, the food arrived. It was a pepperoni pizza for you and a prosciutto one for Lando.

"How-- how did you know--?"

Lando smiled. "You order a lot of pizzas. Like… a lot. So one day, I stopped the delivery guy and asked him what you had ordered. He said you always ordered the same one."

You tried to suppress a laugh at his silliness. "Not creepy at all." You said sarcastically.

Lando laughed. "I know, I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you."

You kept on talking and eating, and you both laughed a lot. You had to admit that you had never felt so comfortable with someone before. After you finished eating, Lando and you walked to the car.

"I'll take you home." he said. He turned on the car but paused. "Unless you don't want to go home yet." For a moment, he seemed shy, which was unlike him, at least around you.

You thought for a moment. "I don't know..." It surprised you that you were considering spending more time with him than necessary. "I'm not going home with you if that's what you're thinking."

Lando laughed. "Well, I guess I'll have to call you an Uber if you're not going home with me. Like, to the same building." You blushed and let out a sigh. He loved teasing you. "Do you trust me?"

You gave him a side look. "No!"

"Wow, that was brutal. Let me rephrase the question: Can I take you somewhere, please?"

You hesitated, but eventually nodded your head.

Lando drove to the top of the hill, a spot he liked to visit when everything felt overwhelming. The view was breathtaking. Monaco looked beautiful during the day, but it was at night when the city truly took your breath away. He parked the car, and you both stepped out.

"This is beautiful." You said, looking at the view.

"It is. But it's not as beautiful as you," Lando replied. You blushed and looked away. You'd never blushed so much in your life.

You sat down on the bench and Lando joined you. "What do you really want from me?" You asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What do you mean?" He replied.

"I'm not stupid, Lando. You're an F1 driver. You're young and handsome. You could have anyone you wanted."

"But I want you!" He smiled. "You're smart, funny, and incredibly beautiful. And you're different from the women I've dated in the past. You're genuine. Like I've already told you, I like you. A lot."

You looked at him, your heart filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I don't know, Lando."

He squeezed your hand gently. "I understand that I'm not the easiest guy to be in a relationship with, but I'm willing to take things slowly. I just want you to know how I feel." The two of you sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. "Do you want to go back?" Lando asked after a while.

You nodded. "I think it's time."

As you drove back down the hill, you couldn't shake the feeling that something special was happening between you and Lando. You were excited, but also a little nervous.

When you arrived at your apartment building, Lando parked the car in the garage, but neither of you made a move to step out. "Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it." You said.

He smiled. "I'm glad you agreed."

"Well, I had no choice, remember?"

"Yeah. Remember me to thank Maria for the bet." He laughed, and you joined him.

"Yeah, yeah." After a while, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was a sweet kiss, and Lando closed his eyes as he felt your lips against his face.

As you pulled away, Lando hesitated, but after a second, he cupped your face and gently kissed you on the lips. Your heart raced, and you closed your eyes, quickly kissing him back and tangling your hand in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours. His touch was gentle, and you felt a warmth spread through you.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless. You looked at each other, your eyes filled with love and desire. "I've been wanting to do that, for a very long time." He said.

You looked into his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "To how many girls have you said that?" You teased him.

He looked at your lips. "None. And if you let me, you're going to be the only one." He said and he couldn't help but smile.

You smiled back. You couldn't help but think that your life had just taken a turn for the better. And so did Lando. Finally, he got the girl. The woman next door.

[aspenmissing]

ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ/ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ-ɪꜱʜ ||

6776 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴛᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄɪᴇꜱ, ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

JAYCE

The Academy halls hummed with quiet energy, the rhythmic murmur of voices mingling with the distant hum of machinery and the occasional metallic clink of tools. Y/N moved purposefully through the corridors, her arms cradling an eclectic collection of blueprints, sketches, and notes. The crisp parchment edges tickled her fingers, and the faint scent of ink and graphite followed her like a familiar companion. As she passed by bustling classrooms and open workspaces, a few students glanced her way, their expressions a mix of awe and curiosity—Y/N Talis, wife of Jayce Talis, the formidable engineer and brilliant mind in her own right, always left an impression.

She turned the final corner leading to Jayce's lab, her heels clicking against the polished floors with a measured precision. Through the large glass window of the door, she spotted him instantly. Jayce’s broad shoulders were hunched slightly as he leaned over his workstation, gesturing animatedly with a spanner in hand. His deep, confident voice carried faintly through the barrier, underscored by his natural charisma. Opposite him stood a young woman, her bright eyes locked on him as though he were the sun, her posture leaning just enough to blur the line between attentive and overly familiar.

The girl’s hand rested lightly on Jayce’s arm, her laughter too airy, her smile too wide. Y/N’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. She recognised the type—the overeager assistant or ambitious student hoping for a little more than professional mentorship. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen someone vying for Jayce’s attention, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. But jealousy wasn’t in her nature, not when she trusted Jayce with everything she had. Instead, she found the situation mildly amusing, like watching a play unfold where the ending was already written.

Shifting the weight of the documents in her arms, Y/N stepped forward, nudging the door open with her hip. The quiet creak of the hinges was enough to break the conversation inside.

“Jayce,” she called, her voice smooth and warm, yet with an undeniable edge of authority that filled the space effortlessly.

Jayce’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice, his expression shifting from focused concentration to unabashed delight. “Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up like a man seeing the love of his life walk into the room—which, of course, she was. “Perfect timing. I was just talking about the diagrams you’re carrying.”

The young woman stiffened slightly, her hand withdrawing from Jayce’s arm as though burned. Her eyes flickered to Y/N, quickly assessing her presence. Y/N stepped into the lab fully, her movements confident and unhurried, and placed the stack of blueprints and notes onto the table nearest Jayce. She dusted off her hands and turned towards him, her lips curving into a soft, genuine smile.

“Got everything you asked for,” she said casually, though there was an unmistakable tenderness in her tone. Without hesitation, she leaned up on her toes and pressed a deliberate kiss to his lips, her hand brushing his jawline gently.

Jayce responded instantly, his free hand instinctively finding the small of her back. The kiss was brief but unmissable, a silent declaration to anyone watching that Y/N was his and he was hers. When they parted, Jayce’s eyes lingered on her face, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “You’re a lifesaver, love,” he murmured, his tone dripping with affection.

Y/N’s gaze shifted to the girl, who now stood awkwardly by the workstation, her posture tense, her smile faltering. “And who’s this?” Y/N asked, her tone polite but laced with an unspoken firmness that immediately established her dominance in the room. “Do you need something?”

The girl blinked, visibly caught off guard. “Oh, um,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I was just... asking Mr Talis about some technical details for my project.”

Jayce nodded, his hand still resting on Y/N’s back as he explained. “She’s working on a research proposal,” he said, his tone easy but entirely professional. “Needed a bit of advice.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her expression remaining kind but unwavering. “Well, you’ve come to the right person,” she said with a faint smile, her eyes locking with the girl’s. “Jayce is brilliant at this sort of thing. He loves helping others.”

Her words were friendly enough, but the subtle shift in her posture—standing closer to Jayce, her hand lightly brushing his arm—spoke volumes. She wasn’t just Jayce’s partner in work; she was his partner in life, and she had no intention of letting anyone forget that.

The girl’s smile grew increasingly strained. She quickly began gathering her notes, her movements rushed and clumsy. “Right... Well, thank you for your time, Mr Talis,” she said, her voice pitched slightly higher than before. “I’ll, um, follow up later if I have more questions.” She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her eyes darting between the couple, before practically fleeing the lab. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound echoing faintly in the now-quiet room.

Jayce let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he turned to Y/N. “You handled that like a pro,” he said, his tone filled with admiration.

Y/N shrugged, leaning into his side with a sly smile. “I trust you,” she said simply. “But if someone’s getting touchy, I’m not going to let them think they have a chance.”

He grinned, his hand moving to cup her cheek as he looked down at her. “Good. Because I’m yours and only yours.”

“Damn right you are,” Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She nudged him playfully before turning back to the stack of blueprints. Unrolling one of them, she scanned the intricate diagrams, her brows furrowing slightly. “Now, let’s get back to work. I don’t have time to fend off your fan club all day.”

Jayce laughed, the rich sound filling the lab. “Deal. But for the record, you’re the only admirer I care about.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. She reached out, brushing her fingers against his. “Good answer,” she murmured with a smirk before refocusing on the blueprint in her hands.

As they settled into their work, the earlier interruption faded into the background, replaced by the quiet, easy rhythm of their partnership. The hum of the lab surrounded them, but nothing could compare to the unspoken understanding and love that passed between them with every shared glance and touch. Together, they were unstoppable.

VIKTOR

The bustling streets of Piltover's marketplace were alive with chatter, laughter, and the vibrant colours of countless stalls. Merchants called out to passers-by, enticing them with promises of rare spices, glittering trinkets, and the finest textiles in the city. Children darted between legs, their laughter ringing out like bells, while the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted chestnuts wafted through the crisp afternoon air.

Y/N walked beside Viktor, her hand brushing his every so often as they strolled. Her humming was soft, barely audible over the noise of the market, but it was enough for Viktor to catch the tune. He smiled to himself, matching his steps with hers as best he could, his cane tapping lightly against the cobblestones with every measured step.

Viktor didn’t often venture into the crowded streets of Piltover. The chaotic energy of the marketplace wasn’t exactly his domain—he preferred the quiet order of his lab. But with Y/N beside him, her boundless curiosity and infectious excitement made the marketplace feel almost magical.

As they wandered further into the maze of stalls, Y/N’s attention flitted from one display to the next. A vendor showcasing intricately carved wooden figurines caught her eye, then another selling jars of honey so golden they seemed to glow in the sunlight. Without even realising it, she drifted a few steps ahead, her gaze fixed on a stall overflowing with brightly coloured fabrics.

Viktor paused, noticing her absence. He turned his head, searching the crowd until he caught a glimpse of her dark hair weaving through the throng. A fond smile tugged at his lips as he watched her. “Always in her own world,” he murmured, shaking his head affectionately before beginning his careful pursuit.

Y/N, meanwhile, had been drawn to a flower vendor’s stall. The display was stunning—a riot of colours spilling out from buckets and vases, the petals dewy and fragrant. She leaned in to inhale the scent of a bouquet of violets, their delicate purple hues catching the light. The scent was intoxicating, a sweet reminder of open fields and quiet meadows.

“You’ve got a good eye for beauty,” a voice interrupted her reverie. Y/N straightened and turned to find a tall, broad-shouldered man standing beside her, his grin as self-assured as his tone. He gestured toward the violets she’d been admiring. “But they’ve got nothing on you.”

Y/N blinked, caught slightly off guard, but her expression quickly shifted into one of polite friendliness. “Thank you,” she said, her tone light and neutral. “I was just admiring the flowers.”

The man stepped closer, clearly emboldened. “Maybe I could buy you a bouquet? What’s your favourite? Roses? Daffodils?”

Y/N shook her head gently, trying not to sound curt. “That’s kind of you, but I’m just browsing.”

The man didn’t take the hint. “Oh, come on. A pretty woman like you deserves to be spoiled.” His grin widened, his tone oozing smug confidence, as if he were certain she’d melt under his charm.

Before Y/N could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Am I interrupting something?”

She turned to see Viktor standing a few paces away, his golden eyes sharp despite the calm expression on his face. He leaned slightly on his cane, his posture steady and self-assured despite his evident limp.

The stranger frowned, his gaze flicking dismissively over Viktor’s figure, lingering on the brace on his leg and the cane in his hand. “No offence, mate,” the man said, his tone dripping with condescension, “but this doesn’t concern you. Why don’t you hobble off and leave the lady to someone who can actually keep up with her?”

Y/N’s polite smile vanished instantly, replaced by a glare that could have frozen the sun. Before she could speak, Viktor stepped closer, his cane clicking against the stones as he approached.

His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and in that glance, they shared an unspoken understanding—a silent agreement that this man wasn’t worth their time.

Viktor turned his attention back to the stranger, his expression calm but resolute. “I would suggest you leave my wife alone,” he said, his tone measured but carrying a quiet authority that demanded respect.

The stranger blinked, momentarily stunned. “Your wife?” he repeated, disbelief written all over his face.

Viktor didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a few coins, and handed them to the flower vendor. He carefully selected a bouquet of violets—the same ones Y/N had been admiring—and held them out to her, his smile softening.

“For you, moje krásná paní manželka,” he said, his voice warm and tinged with a playful emphasis on the words. (My pretty lady wife)

Y/N’s expression melted into one of pure affection. She took the flowers from him, her smile radiant as she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, darling,” she murmured, her voice sweet enough to make the stranger’s ears burn.

Viktor offered the man one final glance—polite but firm. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere important to be.”

Without waiting for a response, he extended his free hand to Y/N, who slipped her fingers through his without hesitation. Together, they turned and walked away, leaving the flustered man standing speechless by the flower stall.

As they rejoined the flow of the marketplace, Y/N gave Viktor’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice soft but touched with gratitude.

Viktor chuckled, a quiet sound that rumbled pleasantly in his chest. “Perhaps not,” he replied, his tone teasing. “But I couldn’t let him think he had a chance, could I?”

She laughed, the sound bright and warm as the sun overhead. “My hero,” she said, her smile playful but her eyes shining with sincerity.

Viktor glanced down at her, his golden eyes brimming with affection. “And you,” he said softly, “are worth every flower in Piltover.”

JAYVIK

The grand hall of the gala glittered with opulence, the lights bouncing off the crystalline chandeliers and polished marble floors. A soft murmur of chatter, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses filled the space. Y/N stood off to the side with Viktor, her arm looped casually through his. The pair, along with Mel Medarda, were engaged in polite conversation about recent developments in Piltover politics, though the conversation flowed easily to lighter subjects, like the evening’s extravagant décor.

As Mel’s laughter tapered off, her dark eyes drifted past Y/N and Viktor, honing in on a familiar figure across the room. She smirked knowingly and tilted her glass towards the scene. “Your Jayce appears to be quite the centre of attention tonight.”

Y/N and Viktor turned their heads in unison, their gazes falling on Jayce. The tall inventor stood amidst a small group of men and women, all hanging onto his every word. His confidence was magnetic, and it was clear he was enjoying himself, though the crowd seemed just a bit too interested. Hands brushed his arm, fingers lingered on his shoulder, and laughter bubbled up too freely from his admirers.

Viktor hummed, his lips twitching in mild annoyance. “Like moths to a flame,” he remarked dryly, leaning more heavily on his cane.

Y/N sighed, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Honestly, they’re practically swarming him,” she muttered. She took a sip of her champagne, her grip on the glass tightening. “Do they not see the ring on his finger?”

“Do they care?” Viktor countered, raising a brow. He exchanged a glance with Y/N, both of them clearly on the same page. Jayce might be their husband, but that didn’t mean they were above feeling a twinge of jealousy at the scene before them.

Mel chuckled, an elegant, knowing sound that drew their attention back to her. “Now, now,” she teased, “don’t do anything rash. You’ll only make it more amusing for them.” Her sharp eyes gleamed with mischief as she took a slow sip from her glass. “Besides, we wouldn’t want to start a scene, would we?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Rash? Us? Never,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Y/N let out a quiet laugh but folded her arms across her chest, unable to entirely suppress the spark of annoyance. “Maybe I should go remind him that he’s the one who’s supposed to stay by our sides, not entertain every vulture that flutters by.”

“Oh, but you’re far more captivating when you let him sweat a little,” Mel pointed out with a sly grin. “He’s a smart man—he’ll realise soon enough.”

As if sensing their gazes, Jayce glanced over, his broad smile faltering slightly when he caught the looks Y/N and Viktor were sending his way. His admirers seemed not to notice, but Jayce’s shoulders straightened, and he offered them a sheepish smile.

Y/N smirked, raising her glass towards him in a silent toast. Viktor gave a subtle shake of his head, a small but unmistakable warning. Jayce quickly excused himself from the group, weaving through the crowd to join his partners.

When he finally reached them, Jayce rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confidence a little diminished. “I see you noticed my, uh… predicament.”

Y/N arched a brow. “Predicament? Looked like you were having the time of your life.”

“More like being circled by sharks,” Viktor quipped, though there was no real venom in his tone.

Jayce huffed out a laugh, sliding an arm around both of them. “You know there’s only two people I’d rather spend my time with.”

“Smart answer,” Y/N said, though her tone was laced with affection.

“Very,” Viktor agreed, leaning slightly into Jayce’s side. “But don’t let it happen again.”

Before Jayce could respond, Y/N’s sharp eyes flicked over his shoulder, catching sight of two of his earlier admirers hesitantly making their way towards them. They were still wearing the same overly polite smiles, clearly unwilling to relinquish his attention just yet. Y/N let out a quiet, guttural sound—not quite a growl, but close enough to make Viktor glance at her with an amused expression.

“Oh no,” Viktor murmured under his breath, his lips twitching with humour. “You’re doing the thing again.”

“Let me handle it,” Y/N whispered, her voice dangerously sweet as her eyes tracked the approaching pair. “I’m not in the mood for this nonsense.”

Jayce followed her gaze, his brows knitting together as he realised who was coming. He sighed, stepping slightly in front of his partners in an instinctive gesture of protection. “I’ll—”

“No,” Y/N interrupted firmly, her free hand lightly pressing against his chest. “They’ve had more than enough of your time.”

Mel, observing the exchange, covered her mouth to hide her grin. “I do enjoy seeing you three in action,” she remarked, swirling her champagne. “It’s always so… theatrical.”

Viktor straightened slightly, gripping his cane as if considering stepping in himself. “Let them come,” he said dryly, though his tone held an edge. “I’d like to see how bold they really are.”

As the pair drew closer, Y/N’s glare sharpened into something almost predatory. The intensity of her stare must have registered because they hesitated, exchanged a few murmured words, and quickly retreated back into the crowd.

Jayce let out a relieved laugh, shaking his head. “I didn’t realise I’d married such a formidable pair.”

Y/N smirked, lifting her glass in mock toast. “It’s not formidable—it’s called protecting what’s ours.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jayce said, his voice full of warmth as he pulled them both closer.

Mel tilted her head, raising her glass to them. “Now, that is how you command a room without saying a word. Bravo.”

VANDER

Y/N was bustling about the dimly lit chaos of The Last Drop, weaving through the crowd with the practised ease of someone who’d worked the bar for years. The tavern was alive with noise: laughter, shouts, clinking glasses, and the occasional thud of a fist meeting a table in emphasis. The air smelled of spilled ale, sweat, and smoke, but Y/N didn’t mind. She thrived in this environment. She always carried herself with an air of calm grace, even amidst the most chaotic nights, her presence grounding to both the regulars and the staff.

Tonight was no different—at least, not at first. But as the hours ticked by, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. A quick glance confirmed it: a table in the corner, occupied by a group of men who’d been lingering far too long over their drinks, their gazes lingering far too long on her.

She ignored them as best she could, continuing to flit between tables, clearing mugs, taking orders, and flashing her polite smile at every lewd comment thrown her way. It wasn’t uncommon in a place like this, but it didn’t make it any less tiresome. She was used to handling herself, though. She always had been.

Eventually, the inevitable happened. She approached the corner table to clear the growing collection of empty mugs. One of the men, a scruffy fellow with a greasy grin, leaned back in his chair and extended his boot, blocking her path with an exaggerated smirk.

"Well, aren’t you a pretty thing," he slurred, his words thick with drink and arrogance. His eyes roamed over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "Didn’t know The Last Drop hired angels to serve the likes of us."

Y/N kept her expression neutral, though her polite smile remained firmly in place. She expertly sidestepped his boot, bending slightly to collect the mugs without missing a beat. “Just doing my job,” she replied smoothly, her tone calm and professional. “What can I get you?”

The man’s companions chuckled, their laughter carrying the kind of oily smugness that sent a flicker of annoyance through her. She didn’t let it show, focusing instead on scribbling down their order. But one of the men leaned forward, his smirk widening as his eyes caught the glint of her wedding ring.

"That ring of yours, love,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Bet whoever put it there can’t protect you like we could. Someone like you needs a man who can actually handle himself.” He sat back, clearly pleased with his own bravado, as his companions snickered.

Y/N felt a flicker of irritation, but her smile didn’t falter. She was used to comments like this, and she knew how to brush them off without escalating the situation. Still, she opened her mouth to respond, ready to deliver a cutting yet professional retort—when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

A familiar presence loomed behind her, and a long shadow fell across the table. The men’s chuckles faded as they slowly realised they were no longer the centre of attention. Vander had arrived.

“Is that right?” came his low, gravelly voice, calm but brimming with a quiet menace that sent a chill through the room.

Y/N didn’t even flinch. She glanced over her shoulder, her smile softening slightly at the sight of her husband. Vander stood tall, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his imposing figure radiating authority. His eyes, cold and calculating, were fixed on the men at the table.

The scruffy man who had spoken earlier shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his cocky grin faltering. "Just a bit of fun,” he muttered, his bravado evaporating under Vander’s piercing gaze.

“Funny,” Vander said, his tone deceptively calm as he leaned down slightly, resting a large, calloused hand on Y/N’s lower back. “Because it sounded like you were asking for a different kind of lesson.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and the men exchanged uneasy glances. Y/N, ever composed, placed the tray down on the table with practised ease, her polite smile still firmly in place.

“Well then,” she said cheerfully, her tone light and unconcerned, “your drinks will be out shortly.” Her calm demeanour only seemed to emphasise Vander’s silent warning, and she could feel his hand resting protectively against her back.

Vander straightened, his gaze never leaving the table as he addressed the men one final time. "You’d best remember where you are. And who runs it." His voice dropped lower, almost a growl. "You don’t touch what’s mine."

The men muttered hurried apologies, their confidence thoroughly shattered. They couldn’t look anywhere but their table as Y/N turned to continue her work, Vander following close behind her. When they reached the bar, she glanced up at him with a teasing smile, her expression amused.

“Subtle as ever, aren’t you?” she said softly, reaching for a fresh tray of mugs.

Vander huffed a quiet laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders as he leaned against the bar. His hand brushed hers, a quiet reassurance. “Didn’t like the way they looked at you.”

“I noticed.” She leaned up on her toes, Vander bending down a little, to press a quick kiss to his cheek, her smile warm. “But I’ve got it handled. Besides, I don’t think anyone’s going to try anything now.”

Vander smiled down at her, his hand resting briefly against her cheek before dropping to his side. “Damn right they won’t.”

Despite the earlier tension, the moment between them felt light, easy. Y/N returned to her work with a renewed sense of calm, while Vander lingered near the bar, his protective gaze ensuring no one else even thought about testing their luck.

SILCO

The dim light of Silco's office cast long shadows across the room, the flickering flames of the lamps accentuating his sharp features. He sat at his desk, fingers steepled, eyes narrowed in thought as he spoke with a man from one of the lesser factions in Zaun. Silco's voice was calm, calculated, but there was an edge to it—a clear warning not to waste his time. His presence alone commanded authority, but there was something more palpable in the air. The unspoken understanding that crossing him would be a mistake—one no one would make twice.

And then, there was you.

Leaning languidly against the edge of Silco's desk, you were a vision of confidence, of power masked behind the allure of your smile. Your body was angled just enough to hold the man’s attention, your eyes locked onto his, but always, always dancing over him as if to draw him in. Your lips curled into a sultry smile, soft and inviting, while your fingers traced the smooth surface of the desk, the subtle motion hypnotic, like the flick of a predator’s tail.

You knew exactly what you were doing. Your touch, the slow movements of your hands, they were designed to disarm, to draw attention away from Silco’s calculated threats and promises. The man—poor fool—couldn’t seem to focus on a single word Silco was saying. His eyes darted between you and the dangerous man across the desk, unable to stop himself from being pulled into your orbit. You could practically see his resolve crumbling, his thoughts scrambling as your presence enveloped him.

You leaned forward slightly, close enough to make him tense, your hand brushing lightly across the man’s shoulder. His breath caught, eyes widening as you spoke, your voice a soft, lilting purr that made his chest tighten. "You know," you murmured, the words laced with honeyed temptation, "working with us could benefit you more than you think. I can promise, we make it worth your while."

The man stammered, lost for words as your fingers trailed slowly down the front of his chest. Your touch was delicate but deliberate, each movement designed to toy with him, to make him feel as if he were the only person in the room. His pulse quickened as he tried to compose himself, but you leaned in just enough for your lips to hover close to his ear, the scent of your perfume clouding his mind.

Silco watched all of it, his gaze as cold as steel. His fingers tightened imperceptibly around the edge of his desk, the movement barely noticeable, but his jaw clenched with restraint. He knew exactly what you were doing. You were a black widow—using your beauty, your charm, your body as a weapon, a tool to distract, to ensnare, to get what you wanted. And he couldn't help but admire it, in all its lethal precision. You had always been a master of manipulation, drawing people into your web with ease, your every move calculated to make them underestimate the danger you posed.

It was thrilling, watching you weave your spell, but it was dangerous too. Because while he had seen many fall prey to your charms, seeing your hands on another man, your lips curling with that teasing smile—it stirred something in him that wasn’t just a sharp sense of control, but a possessiveness, an urge to protect what was his, and a frustration that he couldn’t fully contain. It was a feeling that didn’t make sense, one that was far from rational, but it was there nonetheless, simmering beneath the surface.

A flare of jealousy—sharp, immediate—flashed through him.

"Enough," Silco snapped, his voice cutting through the tension like a whip cracking through the air. The man jumped, startled, his eyes shifting between Silco and you, as if trying to gauge his next move. But Silco’s glare was as unforgiving as a blade, and the man was no fool. "Leave. Now."

The man blinked, the fear creeping into his eyes as he quickly gathered himself. His hands fumbled as he straightened his clothes, his voice shaking as he stammered a hasty apology. Silco's gaze, cold and commanding, made it clear there was no room for argument. The man didn’t hesitate; he fled, the door slamming behind him as though it were a final punctuation to his presence in Silco’s domain.

You turned slowly towards Silco, your lips curving into a teasing smile. You could feel the shift in the air, the subtle tension that thickened as you stood before him. Your brow arched, and you tilted your head, a faint, innocent look in your eyes that did little to mask the playfulness beneath. "What?" you asked, your voice lilting, soft as you returned his gaze. "I was just making sure he didn’t get distracted."

Silco’s expression remained unreadable for a moment, but his movements betrayed his inner thoughts. He stood abruptly, stepping around the desk with the calculated grace of a predator, his eyes never leaving yours. He moved with purpose, each step measured, predatory. His presence closed in around you like a tightening noose, and you knew there was no escape from the storm you had stirred.

"What was that, darling?" His voice was low, a growl wrapped in silk, the words heavy with dark intent. He stopped in front of you, his towering presence forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. "Don’t play coy with me."

You shrugged nonchalantly, not an ounce of fear in your posture, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that made your pulse quicken. "Just helping you seal the deal. He seemed… distracted. I thought a little charm might keep him focused."

He moved suddenly, his hand darting out to grip your chin, not with violence, but with the firm authority that only he could wield. His fingers were like iron around you, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. You couldn’t look away, caught in the heat of his glare, the raw intensity of his gaze burning through you like a brand. "You think I need your… charm to make people listen to me?" His voice was dangerously soft, but the underlying threat was clear.

You smirked, undeterred, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Of course not. But it doesn’t hurt to have a little insurance, does it?"

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, a slow, deliberate motion that made your breath catch. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer, his body pressing into yours as his breath ghosted over your ear. "And what about me, Y/N?" he whispered, his voice dark, thick with a possessiveness you could feel radiating off him. "Watching you touch him, lean into him like that…" His hand moved to the small of your back, fingers splaying out as though claiming you in front of him, as if the very air around you belonged to him. "Do you enjoy testing my patience?"

Your smirk faltered, just slightly. His jealousy was palpable, raw, and it sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. You’d never seen him so openly possessive. "I didn’t mean anything by it," you murmured, your voice dropping into something more sincere, more vulnerable. "You know that."

His lips brushed against your ear, the feel of his breath sending a tremor through you. "I do," he said, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. "But I can’t stand the sight of another man’s hands near you—or yours on him." His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, and the sharp edges of his anger twisted into something more primal. "I think you need a reminder of who you belong to."

Before you could respond, his lips claimed yours with a hunger that nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. His kiss was fierce, possessive, claiming, as if he wanted to mark you, to make you remember where you belonged. His hands moved over you, gripping your hips tightly, possessively, as though daring the universe itself to try and take you from him. You melted into the kiss, the heat between you both burning bright and consuming.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark, hooded with desire, but beneath that, there was something more—an unspoken command. His voice was a low rasp, filled with a raw edge. "You’re mine, Y/N," he whispered, each word dripping with possessiveness. "And don’t you forget it."

A sly smile crept across your face, despite the heavy weight of his words. You leaned into him, your hands sliding up his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles, and your lips brushed against his ear. "How could I, with the way you remind me?"

His smirk returned, but it was sharper, more dangerous. "Good," he growled, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as though there was no distance he was willing to allow. "Because next time, I won’t be so… patient."

As the air around you thickened with desire, you could feel the undeniable shift in power—you were his, and you always would be. The game had changed. And Silco, in all his quiet, commanding intensity, had reminded you just how much control he had over you, body and soul.

JINX/POWDER

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, casting long shadows over Zaun's rundown streets. The city had always been a place of stark contrasts—grimy and industrial, yet teeming with life, especially in the market district. Y/N sat on an old, weathered bench, legs crossed, her hands resting loosely in her lap as she hummed a soft melody, her gaze distant. The hustle and bustle around her seemed to fade as she focused on the simple pleasure of the moment.

A small cluster of Zaun’s children had gathered around her, forming a loose circle. They were entranced by her calm, collected presence. Her voice, a soft mix of wisdom and warmth, flowed effortlessly as she spoke to them.

“I don’t care if you make mistakes,” she said with a reassuring smile, her eyes flicking between the eager faces of the kids. “We all do. But that’s not what matters. What matters is what you do after. You can keep making the same mistake, or you can learn from it and move forward. What are you gonna do?”

The children’s eyes lit up, hanging on her every word, nodding along as if absorbing each bit of advice like a sponge. Y/N had become their unspoken anchor in this chaotic world, a person they could rely on for more than just survival tips. She gave them hope in a place that had little of it to spare, and they respected her deeply for it. Whether they sought advice on how to stay out of trouble or simply needed someone to listen, Y/N was always there.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden, unmistakable sound of someone shifting through the alleyways, their footsteps quick and light, a telltale sign of someone who wasn’t trying to be discreet. Y/N smiled softly to herself, knowing exactly who it was, even before she looked up.

The familiar rustling of Jinx's footsteps echoed through the air, and sure enough, the moment Y/N’s gaze lifted, she spotted her—her hair a chaotic mess of blue curls, eyes narrowed in a way that meant only one thing: mischief. Jinx’s gaze, however, was fixed firmly on the group of kids gathered around Y/N.

Y/N could practically hear the gears turning in Jinx's head. The older woman could see the sharp lines of irritation appearing across Jinx’s face, her lips curling into an almost predatory smirk. Her eyes—those wild, electric blue eyes—glowed with a certain intensity that made her presence undeniably formidable.

“They’re all over you, huh?” Jinx asked, her voice tinged with an edge of annoyance that only she could mask with that signature grin. “What’s the deal with that? They’re... like... swarming you, and I’m standing here, like, totally ignored.”

Y/N chuckled, her laugh light but full of affection. She turned to meet Jinx’s gaze, watching the younger woman as she crossed her arms over her chest, a sulking pout beginning to form.

“They just look up to me, Jinx,” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m the one who’s been around longer. They’re kids; they need someone to look to. You know that.”

But before Y/N could say more, Jinx had already taken a step forward, her posture suddenly rigid with determination. Her eyes locked onto the children, who had begun to slowly back away, sensing her unsettling presence. Without a word, Jinx raised a hand, giving them a slow, deliberate glare. It was the kind of look that could freeze anyone in place, a mixture of warning and threat that sent a chill through the air.

The kids, wide-eyed and stiff with fear, began to scatter. One by one, they scurried away, no longer able to stand their ground against the unpredictable force of Jinx. Y/N shook her head with an exasperated but fond smile.

“Jinx,” she called, her voice light, “you really need to stop scaring them off like that.”

Jinx let out a huff, her arms still crossed, and her pout deepened, lips curving into a sulky frown. “They were getting too close to you,” she muttered, her voice quiet but dripping with possessiveness. “They were... I don’t like it when they crowd you like that.”

Y/N rose from the bench, her movements slow and deliberate as she walked over to Jinx. She stood in front of her for a moment, taking in the conflicted expression on Jinx’s face. She could see the underlying vulnerability beneath the tough exterior, and it made her heart soften.

With a gentle touch, Y/N placed her hands on Jinx’s shoulders, leaning down slightly to meet her gaze. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, her voice soft and affectionate, “you don’t have to worry about them. They don’t want to take me from you. They look up to me because I’ve been here longer. But you…” She paused, her thumb lightly brushing across Jinx’s cheek, “you’ll always be my little troublemaker. The one who keeps me on my toes.”

Jinx's gaze softened, but she still crossed her arms tighter, looking down at her feet. The faintest hint of insecurity flickered in her eyes, but it quickly vanished as she looked back up at Y/N.

“I don’t want them to take you away from me,” Jinx murmured, her voice smaller now, as if admitting something too fragile to say aloud.

Y/N’s heart melted at the vulnerability in her tone. She leaned down even further, resting her forehead against Jinx’s, her hands cupping the younger woman’s face. “You’ll never lose me, Jinx. Ever,” she said softly, her words a promise. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re stuck with me. Whether you like it or not.”

For a brief moment, Jinx seemed unsure, her gaze darting away as if she couldn’t quite believe it. But then she nodded, a tiny, satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright,” she said, the confidence returning to her voice. “But if they try again... I’m scaring them all off, and you can’t stop me.”

Y/N’s laughter bubbled up again, and she wrapped her arms around Jinx in a quick, tender hug. “Deal,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “But you know, you don’t have to protect me from the kids. They’re just trying to learn from me.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, but her grin returned, as wild and carefree as ever. “I know, I know. But I don’t trust anyone near you,” she replied, her tone still playful.

Y/N kissed the top of Jinx’s head affectionately, pulling away with a wide grin. “And that’s exactly why I love you, you little mischief-maker.”

Jinx’s eyes sparkled with something that could only be described as pride, and her grin widened. The earlier jealousy had been replaced with a renewed sense of certainty. She was the one Y/N was always going to be there for, and that knowledge settled deep in her chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jinx said with a teasing roll of her eyes. “Just don’t forget it.”

Y/N chuckled again, her heart swelling with affection for the young woman standing beside her. She had no idea what Zaun would throw at them next, but with Jinx at her side, she knew they could handle whatever came their way.

Side by side, the two of them stood in the fading light, ready to face whatever chaos the streets of Zaun had in store for them.

[hannie-dul-set]

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES.

p — MYUNG JAEHYUN x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, park sungho learns a lesson about minding his own business. w — swearing, death threats (as a form of flirting). 1.5k words.

requested by — @gluion “go kill yourself x “i’m pretty sure they have a crush on me”

note — part of my ship dynamics: insane edition gimmick. this is very the breakup soup coded. i just like writing about a bunch of idiots stressing about the dumpster fire love life of their friend. enjoy.

myung jaehyun’s friends are pretty sure he’s had a very stable, very loving, very normal upbringing.

“stop staring at me, you fucking creep.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make your heart flutter. can’t help it when you’re so pretty.”

“i’ll stab your fucking eyes out.”

“my eyes are all yours, pretty.”

so they can’t wrap their head around why he’s acting like he has not a single ounce of self-respect in his body. sungho and leehan watch as their pitiful friend gets shut down again by the most venomous glare, hostile sneer, deflected by the biggest pair of heart eyes in the world that’s ever longingly following your disappearing figure out the library door. “she wants me so bad,” he concludes with a self-righteous smile as he arranges his notes into one neat stack. sungho and leehan share a look. god almighty, please grant their friend wisdom and salvation.

“what...what makes you say that?” sungho attempts to prod. the first step to finding a solution is to figure out the situation. they need to know why myung jaehyun is so down bad for you, and why he’s so convinced that you feel the same way.

“huh?” jaehyun perks up. like he’s genuinely confused sungho has to ask that. “she was so flustered earlier. couldn’t you tell? it was adorable.”

“she threatened to mutilate you…?” 

jaehyun beams. “she sure did.”

there...there is no point trying to understand him, sungho concludes. leehan is, for lack of a better word, getting mildly frustrated. “hyung, what the hell?” he raises. “if telling someone you want them dead is an indication of romantic feelings, then my middle school bullies must’ve been head over heels for me.”

a silence. a pause. “we’ll unpack that later,” sungho tells him. then shifts his attention back to problem child number one. “you. you’re a grown man who has full autonomy over his actions and feelings, and i know that. but as your friend, i just can’t keep watching you being disrespected, jaehyun. i can’t help but get angry on your behalf when you greet her good morning and alll she does is tell you to go fuck yourself!”

admittedly, sungho got a little bit heated at the end there. but he has every right to feel this emotion on behalf of his dense and seemingly unaffected friend— who is still sitting there, a smile on his face, hands on his lap like a patient buddha who has learned the true meaning of peace and serenity.

“sungho-yah,” jaehyun starts with a pleasant hum. “there’s no need to worry. the feeling is totally mutual. i’m telling you, she likes me back.”

speechless.

in fact, sungho and leehan are beyond speechless. they have no idea where this ungrounded certainty comes from. they certainly have even less of an idea on how to fix his lovesickness, bordering on insanity.

so, reasonably— they call for backup.

“the only way for him to get his shit together is if he asks her out for real and finally gets rejected for good,” taesan declares confidently. somehow, they see a point. riwoo lets out an echo of agreement. woonhak asks why they’re all excluding jaehyun from this after school garage meeting. “do you guys know when he’s planning on doing that?”

“no idea,” leehan answers. “but maybe we can pressure him into it.”

“so, should we encourage him instead of telling him to give it up?” sungho raises. taesan affirms. sungho lets out a grunt and a huff. “god, that’s gonna be tough.”

a resounding voice of dissent arises from woonhak. “i don’t get why you’re all going against jaehyun-hyung!” he yells indignantly. “let hyung love whoever he wants! this is a free country! you guys can’t dictate his love!”

“he’s received fuck you’s straight in the face and swears she’s flirting, woonhak. you’re too young to understand.”

it’s four votes against one. woonhak can’t win against his hyung’s determination to save myung jaehyun from his self-dug pit of pitifulness that he’d been in ever since laying eyes on you at the freshman orientation. god, they never should’ve went. he never should’ve shot down jaehyun’s suggestion to just skip it. maybe then, myung jaehyun would still be normal.

but this is not the time to lament and regret. it’s time for sungho to right his wrongs. it’s time to bring jaehyun’s self-respect back, they decide. and it starts with a wake-up call in the form of your inevitable, brutal rejection. 

which, for some reason, does not happen as planned.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date.” jaehyun is as chipper as ever and sungho’s ears are starting to ring. “thanks for the encouragement, sungho!”

it’s ringing. it’s ringing so badly. “wait, what do you mean you’re going on a date?” he attempts to clarify, grabbing jaehyun by the shoulders because this is two-parts concerning, one-part kind of…proud? this guy actually succeeded? “she said yes? she didn’t tell you to fuck off and die in a hole?”

“she did. she looked pretty while saying it.” jaehyun answers with a bright grin. nevermind. this is all parts concerning. sungho “she also told me she’d kill me if i pick her up late after her class tomorrow. we’re going to have dinner at the thai restaurant that just opened. riwoo recommended it.”

sungho does not understand. he cannot understand because you, who seems to hate all of myung jaehyun’s guts for no discernible reason, agreed to go on a date with him? hello? has jaehyun been right this whole time? do you really reciprocate his feelings? or is this just some new form of torture? is his friend a masochist? is he the weird one for making a big fucking deal out of this? is this how relationships work nowadays?

a thought enters sungho’s mind.

hold on a second—

“anyway, i gotta go, dude. a pretty girl is waiting for me.”

—what if this date is a ploy for you to finally get the chance to kill him?

oh my god.

“wait!” sungho’s face is pale. his eyes are wide and frantic. “don’t—don’t go on the date!”

“hm?” jaehyun bats his eyes at him, taking a moment to think. then sparkles in realization. “oh! don’t worry. i’m not gonna show up looking like this. i’m gonna head home first to change.”

“that’s not the problem! jaehyun! no! no!”

this is it, his friend is going to die. that is, unless, he shows up on your date just in time to stop it. yes. there’s still a chance. he knows where the date is happening. he’s gonna tell the rest of them because there’s no way in hell they’d allow myung jaehyun’s cause of death to read stupidity by misconstruing your murderous intent as affection. they are not only going to save jaehyun’s life— but his dignity as well.

“remember, be quiet. be inconspicuous. they can’t figure out we’re here.”

hopefully, things go as planned this time. all five of them are gathered in a booth at the said thai restaurant, the eventual scene of the crime unless they do something about it. sungho is surveying the scene to find where you and jaehyun are seated. leehan nearly trips over his unnecessarily long trench coat while trying to cover more ground. woonhak is using the menu as cover but has since gotten distracted and has started to pick out his order with riwoo and taesan. “hyung, is the khao soi good?”

“yeah, we should order it.”

“what drinks should we get?”

this is hopeless. this is a mess. their best friend is about to die and all they can think about is dinner.

no matter. sungho can still take care of this himself. his eyes scan the main restaurant wing, from left to right, until his eyes double over in a screeching halt to the back of a very familiar round head—

“huh.”

the back of a very familiar round head that doesn’t seem to be facing the threat of decapitation.

sungho sees you and jaehyun sitting across from one another, jaehyun’s fairly loud voice raising over the music and utensils clattering, people chatting and passing by. “you’ve got something on your face.”

“touch my face, and i’ll kill y— hey!”

first of all, sungho wants to claw his own eyes out seeing his friend being disgustingly sweet. second, jaehyun did touch your face with a napkin and it does not seem like you’re attempting to murder him. in fact, you look flustered even. flushed despite the harbored glare, still seated despite your apparent derision and disgust. the back of jaehyun’s head looks exceedingly happy. the dots aren’t connecting. sungho is malfunctioning. 

“should…should we interfere…?” leehan asks, his nose barely peeking out of the trench coat collar.

“i think...i think we should just leave them alone.”

“but isn’t his life in danger?”

“i misunderstood.”

forget misunderstanding. sungho can’t even behind to understand in the first place and has settled that he wouldn’t even try so long as myung jaehyun is happy— happy with being on the receiving end of fuck you’s and go to hell’s in response to his you’re so pretty’s and see you tomorrow’s, happy with getting his advances swatted away and shut down, happy with whatever the fuck is going on between you and him that sungho really can’t just wrap his head around.

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[bahablastplz]

Best friend's brother: Chan x reader

Thinking about best friend's brother Chan that has always been secretly obsessed with you Content: extremely fluffy, slight hurt/comfort, smut, really vanilla smut but super sweet Warnings: Oral sex (f! receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex WC: 2000

Obviously, you and your best friend were inseparable. You grew up right next door, and her parents considered you to be another one of their children. You and Hannah were, for lack of a better word, siblings. Her older brother, however… that was a situation that you weren’t sure how to explain. 

You had always harbored feelings for the older man, despite the guilt that ate away at you. You could never tell Hannah that, however. Nor would you ever tell Chan or let your desires come to fruition. 

Which is why, once you came home for summer break you had no problem getting ready for your date at Hannah’s house. Though the thought of her brother being there made you gulp, you would just have to hope you wouldn’t run into him and everything would be fine–

“What’s got you dressed all up?” Of course, Chan appears from behind and makes eye contact with your reflection in the mirror. Hannah is sprawled across her bed and scrolling through her phone. 

“She’s got a hot date,” Hannah replies, snarkily. 

“Hot date?” Chan inquires while crossing his arms. He holds a slightly disapproving glare. 

“Yeah, with some guy she met online. He’s a real smokeshow–” 

“Hannah!” You say sharply, willing your best friend to somehow spare you the humility. 

“Where is he taking you, hm?” Chan says with a small, teasing lilt to his voice. 

“We’re going to a club…,” you whisper. 

“On the first date? No no no, that’s just a recipe for disaster, Y/N.” 

“It’ll be fine, Chan!” Hannah says. She doesn’t even bother to look him in the eye, so he bores holes into your own instead. He mutters out something about how he doesn’t like this and that you should really be careful before returning to his room.

As you finish getting ready, you admire yourself in the mirror. Your black dress hugs your body just right, and your makeup brings out just the right contrast to your face. Hannah says out loud exactly what you were thinking: 

“You look hot.” 

As you share your location with her and get ready to leave the house, it is almost 9 p.m. and your uber has arrived. Though you know the night will most likely not end up with you falling head over heels in love, you’re still hoping to have a good time and maybe get to know the guy more. However, before you step out the door you feel a hand grab your wrist. 

Chan is looking at you with a look you don’t recognize in his eye and you pause, waiting for him to speak. 

“Please, be careful. If anything happens, you have my number. I don’t care what time it is, you can reach out. It doesn’t matter if he’s being a creep or if you just don’t want to be there anymore, I will come and get you,” he says. He looks at you softly before adding, “And even if you don’t need me to get you, please text me when you’re home safe.” You could tell he was genuinely worried and this made your heart pang slightly, making it harder to will away the crush you have on the man. 

Your date shows up late, for starters. After twenty minutes you take your first shot, and your second drink arrives when your date does. He is unapologetic and starts touching you the second he sees you–that’s when you realize he is already wasted. Letting out a groan, you humor him with one dance, but when he immediately starts grinding on you you decide you have had enough. 

“I’m not really feeling it,” you say. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.” 

The man scoffs and immediately becomes defensive. “C’mon darling, you’re not going to show up looking like that and then act like a prude, are you?” He spits out some more mean insults that you don’t hear, because you’re already out the door and dialing Chan’s number. 

He picks up on the first ring. 

“Are you okay–” 

“I’m fine, can you please come and get me?” 

“I walked out the door the second I saw your name flash on my screen,” he says. You hear his engine start and know he is telling the truth. 

It’s cold outside, but Chan has the heat pumping in his car when he pulls up. You curl into yourself, feeling embarrassed at the situation you’ve found yourself in. The ride is silent, though it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s playing your favorite music. 

When he pulls up to your driveway, he puts his car into park. 

You start talking before he says anything, even though you know he wasn’t going to force you. 

“He showed up completely trashed and started touching me before I even really talked to him,” you said. Tears start streaming down your face and you hope that Chan won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. He leans over the center console to wipe a tear away. 

“He showed up drunk? Oh, I’m so sorry… you don’t deserve that,” he says. “I knew it was a bad idea.” 

You know he’s trying to console you but you feel so defeated. “Why is it such a bad idea for me to want to go out and have fun?” You practically cry out. “Why does everybody else get to have a normal dating life and get to hook up with people and enjoy college, but when I try to do it it never works out?” Chan just nods along to your words. 

“You just haven’t tried with the right person yet, Y/N…” 

“There will never be a right person, because the one I want is you and that’s never going to happen!” You slap a hand over your mouth and stiffen when you realize what you had said, and when you meet Chan’s gaze you see that he’s staring at you with wide eyes. You’re completely sober now. 

You are out of the car lightning fast, slamming the door behind you and racing to your house. You’re fully sobbing now as you unlock your door, but when you go to slam it behind you Chan sticks his foot in, holding it open. He uses the opportunity to invite himself in and immediately you’re in his arms, in a warm embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” you say against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it, I–” 

“Don’t say that,” he warns. “Don’t you dare take it back.” 

“Chan, I–” He pulls you away to meet your gaze, placing his hands around your face and using both his thumbs to wipe your tears away. 

“Y/N, I have known you for as long as I’ve remembered and I’ve never seen a part of you that I hate,” he says. “I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with you every day, so to hear you say that… Please don’t take it back. Please don’t tell me that you don’t want this,” he trails off, his eyes darting to your lips. 

You crash your lips into his at full force and breathe against him, completely enamored. He picks you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist and carries you to your room, the one he had been in more times than you could count, all while keeping his lips locked against yours. He drops you onto your bed with a flop and you bounce, observing his admiring gaze. His lips are on you again, then they trail to your neck, leaving long burning kisses behind as he trails lower. His thumbs press into your waist. 

“It made me sick,” he confesses. “The thought of you going to the club with some guy that was just going to use you. Some guy you had never met, someone who would never in a million years make you feel the way that I could.” 

He drops to his knees at the edge of your bed, pulling you closer to his face by your hips. He pulls your legs apart, slotting his body in between them, and starts pressing soft kisses to your thighs. You watch his every move, your body relying on your elbows to keep you upright so you don’t miss a second of this. 

“Say it again,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me, that you need me as bad as I need you.” 

“Chan please,” you breathe out. “Wanted you for so long… Thought you’d never like me like that.” 

“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you.” And with that, he lifts your dress up. It bunches against your waist messily and his nose presses into your clothed core. You groan out at the contact and he does as well, placing agonizingly slow kisses and licks against you. He grabs at your waistband and you lift your hips, allowing him to slide them off of your body. He wastes no time before diving back in and your head lolls back at the feeling. 

“Look at me, please,” he begs. “Let me watch you fall apart.” Your eyes snap back to meet his gaze and you immediately feel so comforted and seen from his expression. It allows you to let yourself relax as he flicks and swirls his tongue around your clit. 

He watches your every expression, every hitch of your breath and every buck of your hips, expertly making you fall apart on his tongue. One finger slides inside of your pussy, pumping in and out experimentally, and you feel yourself coming to your peak. 

“God, Chan, please–” 

“I gotcha, baby,” he says. “Come for me.” You fall apart for him completely knowing that he will be right there to put you back together, and he helps you ride out your high, observing the fucked-out look on your face as if it would be the only time he would ever see it. 

You pant and reach for him and he interlocks his hand in yours, coming up to kiss you even more passionately than before. He presses his clothed bulge into your center and you hiss at the contact, still sensitive. 

“Can I?” He asks. 

“Please,” you respond. His pants are slid down and he pushes himself into you in a moment. You feel emotionally overwhelmed, looking down to see where you are completely and utterly connected. The way his breathing becomes shallow, you know he’s thinking the same thing. 

He picks up one of your legs, wrapping around your shoulder and starts pistoning into you, and the change of angle makes you go utterly weak. Your back arches and his lips are against your skin, anywhere they get a chance to meet. 

“All mine,” he grunts. His hips start slamming into yours faster, and one hand reaches up to cover your mouth, muffling any noises that might be starting to slip. “Say it… say you’re all mine and only I get to… fuck, see you like this.” 

You can tell he’s close, and the hand that reaches down to start rubbing against your clit confirms your suspicions. 

“Chan… so close… I’m all yours, Chan, please, please…” His name releases from your lips like a mantra, and as you feel yourself come to your high once again and clench around his length, he pulls you even closer, releasing himself into you. 

Your arms wrap around him and your fingers run through his hair comfortingly as he collapses on top of you. 

You and Chan have always been relatively close by association, particularly given the situation, but at the moment you and him are so intertwined you aren’t sure you can ever let go. 

He holds you as you fall asleep that night. 

“Do you think Hannah will be mad?” you ask. 

“No way,” he mumbles against you. “She’s been trying to get us together for years.” 

You laugh incredulously against the man. Though you weren’t expecting to find your true love that night, you guess life had other plans.

*** First real ff post on tumblr yay!! Welcome to my skz blog, I wanted to start off with something tame lol...I have a lot of really exciting things planned to post so stay tuned <3 Masterlist Recs

[eddiernunson]

The Splash of Rain on the Roof | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+

Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, always there for me, bestie.

Also to @bebe07011 for reading everything before I post and giving me feed back. Love ya.

Summary: you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

Warnings: (idiots) best friends to lovers, dork!reader, virgin!eddie and virgin!reader (its cute, ok), kinda slow, no protection, creampie, praise/degradation, minor miscommunication trope, sleepy 5am writing, first I love yous

I have another one shot planned, it's about 3/4 done.

Word count: 11k

-

As any first day at Hawkins High in the middle of the semester goes, you had a fairly decent one. A cheerleader spotted you in her class and dragged you over to her table, a parade of jocks and cheerleaders surrounding it. You wondered if their insistence was genuine, and you let yourself believe it. Until their true colours were shown through a nasty gossip session.

For the most part, they all had kind things to say about one another. They encouraged each other and asked how your day was so far. Did it count as false advertising if fake friends show their real colours? If anything, you were grateful they were so quick about it. You barely had a chance to memorize their names when one of them broke out in an overdramatic bellow in disgust. Your interest piqued, nearly drowning in their dull conversations, no matter how polite.

You followed the curly haired boys’ line of sight across the cafeteria to a group of boys laughing louder than the rest of the school. They looked carefree and like they were enjoying themselves. You envied them. Your eyes switched back to your new supposed friends, afraid of what exactly was so worthy of their collective disgust.

Their immediate round of insults to the harmless group of boys left the worst taste in your mouth. After the three or four people had their say, you got up without another word.

“Wait! Where you going?” Called the girl who escorted you to the table.

“Anywhere but here.” You answered, having understood immediately what kind of group of people she associated herself with.

She had plenty more to say, but you didn’t hear another word. You were far too busy beelining for the gorgeous man who was at the head of said table. The moment you looked over to them, your vision tunneled. The complaints voiced by the table of Preps seemed to be an extension of their “freakiness”, or so they called it, which you deduced was just another word for “dork”.

Little did they know, you are also a dork.

So, the table you had just ditched watched in horror as you walked straight to the table and immediately sat down with them.

Turns out the gorgeous man was as kind as he was good-looking.

-

It’s been over a year since you started at Hawkins, over a year of friendship with Eddie Munson, said gorgeous man. What’s even worse, he’s better than you had expected him to be. As you settle into the Hellfire Club, adding your own adventurous characters, and contributing to inside jokes, you and Eddie end up closer than you had ever expected.

Unfortunate news is, he has you so far in the friend zone, you’re starting to wonder if even he knows you’re a girl. (With fantastic tits, which he never seems to even look at.)

You’ve spent plenty of nights in a pair of tiny shorts and an oversized top with no bra as you listen to music and smoke a joint with him, hoping over and over that he would just make a move because lord knows you weren’t gonna do it.

The pressure of his hand when it rests on your lower back, the way he curls your hair behind your ear, his breath down your neck when he hugs you, it all sets your skin on fire.

On one night you were terribly upset at your mom after having a fight with her, getting in your car to take the eight-minute drive to his house. You had arrived at his trailer uninvited plenty of times before, Eddie encouraged it once he realized the fights were a regular thing. Only this time, he wasn’t in the living-room watching a scary movie, or in his bedroom listening to records or making a new campaign.

He was in the shower.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He’s had plenty of showers while you were over. He’d be stupidly apologetic about it, but if you were to be honest with him, the smell of the body wash that lingered on him was too good to pass up. You grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from his fridge and a beer for him, figuring you’d meet him when he struts out in that low hanging towel. On your way to Eddie’s room, a noise like music hit your ears and the slick beer almost fell out of your hand.

“Uh, uh, oh shit…fuck—” You heard him, loud and clear, a noise you only imagined late at night in your own bedroom. You stood there frozen in the hallway, listening as he fucked his own fist. You listened as his breaths got faster, his whining higher pitched. But no sound could match the divine noise Eddie made as he finished. Your breath hitched then, drool pooling on your tongue as you pictured sticky white ropes all over the shower.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your panties drenched just from listening to him. You wondered what would’ve happened if your hands were empty. When the shower turned off, your gut swooped, butterflies kicking in as you raced to look casual on his bed. You didn’t have much time to prepare, turning on some music and picking up one of his magazines. Shit, dirty magazine. You quickly adjusted to the next one over, featuring a Metal band on the cover.

As Eddie entered his room, you were laying on the bed looking casual as you could, hoping he didn’t pick up on your heavy breathing. If he did, he didn’t indicate it. As much as you tried, your breathing didn’t slow, your eyes zoned in on the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, lingering on his treasure trail. He greeted you absentmindedly, picking up a pair of sweats.

That night, you could do nothing but stammer through your sentences, chalking it up to stress from the fight with your mom. He offered you to sleep over, a normal habit you’ve developed, but the itch to slip your fingers down your pants was too much. If you had to face your mom just to get it figured out, so be it.

A switch flipped in you that day, it went from being a schoolgirl crush into a want, no, a need for him.

God, you wish he’d just get a clue…or that’d you get the nerve to make a move.

Something better than this torture.

-

After the third pat on his hand, Eddie finally looked up, wondering why Josh can’t take the hint. “What, what?” He asked, already annoyed at his day as it was. Fucking history teacher…

“New girl.” Josh gestured towards the jock/cheerleader table.

Eddie blinked, questioning why the hell he should be interested in this. The insistence on not just Josh’s face, but the rest of the group convinced Eddie, switching his glance over to the table. You stuck out like a sore thumb, not exactly dressed in their prep uniform. From this single glance, he could tell you were uncomfortable. In any case, neither were most cheerleaders on their first days. Oh well, he figured you would assimilate soon enough. Shame, with how pretty you were.

Soon enough, Eddie’s mood lightened up, amused by the witty banter his friends were spitting back and forth. Something Gareth said ended up being ridiculously funny, a feat that he’s familiar with, and it breaks the entire group into loud laughter, something that obviously disrupts the cafeteria. Eddie didn’t care, and neither did any of the other members of Hellfire. If no one would give them any decency, why the hell would they owe anyone else any?

As always, the laughter invited even more scrutiny. Eddie knew the reaction of the table you sat at, firing off insults surrounding the word freak. If they could just get original content, that would be great, Eddie thought as he looked back down to his notebook of campaign notes. He was in the middle of deciding which book he might need to check out for reference when Josh tapped his hand again, far more aggressively.

“What?” He snapped, but caught wind of what was so urgent immediately.

There you were, walking as if you were strutting a runway to his table. He thought he must’ve had it confused for a second, but after assessing the reaction of your previous table, it couldn’t have been less wrong. Eddie leaned over to the table to his friends, teeth gritted. “Be normal.”

After about ten minutes of awkward conversation, as a last resort you had asked what Eddie was working on. “Oh, the campaign for DnD.”

“Wait, you play DnD?” You asked.

Eddie wasn’t sure if this question was negative or positive. “Yeah, we’re a Dungeons and Dragons club.” Gareth answered for him.

“Oh sweet!” The answer stunned all of them. “Can I join?”

“You play Dungeons and Dragons?” Josh asked incredulously.

��Yeah, my dad taught me.” You replied.

“Drama room, Friday night at 7. Don’t be late.” Eddie said, finally making eye contact with you.

He regretted it from the moment he did. The beauty he saw from afar was only intensified by a hundred. You looked at the table with intrigue, much more interest than you ever showed at the jocks table. Eddie couldn’t believe how wrong he was to assume you would just assimilate with them. You were too good for them.

Wait, you were too good for his club as well, what the hell were you doing there?

-

If Eddie had any current quarrels with the universe, it was that you just kept getting better and better as he got to know you. He was prepared for your level one basic dwarf when you showed up with a level 59 Warlock. You kicked his boss’s ass, carrying the weight of all your co-adventurers.

From there, Eddie swore he must’ve gotten hit in the head somehow, because life just isn’t good for him, never has been. But with you, life is worth tolerating. From the start, he had fallen for you, and he still would have even if you did only have a level one dwarf.

As luck would have it, you would never turn down an offer to hang out with him. The first time he offered, butterflies sat in his gut until he walked up to your locker and offered for you to watch a movie at his house with him. You accepted graciously, asking if he minded you’d watch horror. Internally, Eddie fell to his knees. Externally, he nodded, keeping his eyes on what he called the prettiest damn eyes he’s ever seen.

He felt lucky you accepted his displays of affection with him, leaning heavily into his hugs and letting his legs intertwine with yours. His hair would stand up, your skin setting his on fire.

Lately, though, he could swear something is out to get him. As you started getting more comfortable being at his house so often, you started wearing smaller clothing. First, it started off with a pair of sweats and a messy bun. That tore Eddie farther apart than it should have. It turned into braless shirts and tiny shorts, and Eddie stared at the curve of your ass, usually half hard as you laid on his bed.

The first night he ran to the bathroom to jerk off to the outline of your nipple, he felt like shit, yet he wanted nothing more to mouth at it, to mark it his.

Eddie is so sure you’re innocent of it all, unaware of his lust and feelings for you. It started as feelings, but the lust has started to take over to the point where Eddie has to jerk off before you get there. He knows you’re going to bend over too much as you “help” him with making meals. As of late, the tiny pair of shorts barely conceals the outline of your cunt, something that tugs what could only be described as a whimper out of him, has been becoming all too much.

Eddie realizes he’s gonna have to ask you out.

-

After yet another unsuccessful Saturday night over at Eddie’s house– well, successful in terms of getting you out of your house but unsuccessful in the sense that Eddie just doesn’t seem to see you as a fucking girl– you trade your books to prepare for another boring lecture, watching across the hall as Gareth and Eddie seem to be in humorous conversation, judging on the laughter alone.

Eddie is nodding, appearing to agree exuberantly with what Gareth is saying to him. Might as well kill some time before class starts. You walk over, backpack on one shoulder as the weight from all of your books bounces off the back of one of your thighs. Just as you’re about to interrupt their conversation, Eddie makes eye contact with you. As a reflex, you break into a smile at his dimples. However, Eddie says one last thing to Gareth before walking away from their conversation.

You try not to take it personal. There are several jokes in Hellfire you have learned a long time ago to not take personally. However, this felt personal. Eddie doesn’t usually take part in the jokes at your expense. The boys give you enough crap for him anyways, and he gives them crap, and you give Eddie crap. It’s a wonderful circle of crap, really.

As soon as you approach Gareth, now alone, he gives you a half smile, clearly trying to dissipate from the awkward situation. “Hey,” Gareth greets you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning onto his locker to seem “casual.”

“What was that about?” You get straight to the point, nodding towards where Eddie had just walked away.

Gareth stutters through his words, adjusting his arms between crossed and placing his hand on his locker. Oh, Gareth, ever so graceful. “I-I-He-he-he just-uh—”

“Gareth!” You interrupt him, knowing he could continue his stammering for a while unless you stop it. “Just tell me!” You shove his shoulder, annoyed already. What reason could Eddie possibly have for taking off like that?

“We were just talking about the girl he likes, is all.” Gareth admits sheepishly, his eyes flicking everywhere but you.

“Oh,” you answer, feeling crestfallen. A girl? Eddie likes a girl? And hasn’t even had the audacity to tell you about it? Were you not his best friend? Maybe he’s your best friend, but you’re not his. You shake off that annoying voice of doubt in your head, knowing on some level it’s irrational. Then why didn’t he tell me anything? “Oh, he’s…never even mentioned a girl around me…”

Gareth knows exactly why you’re crestfallen, your crush on Eddie not the most exact unknown fact in your group of friends. “I don’t know, he doesn’t talk about it a whole lot…” Gareth trails off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. It wasn’t exactly a lie; Eddie doesn’t talk about his crush on you. He barely mentions it. The only reason anyone in Hellfire knows anything…is because they have eyes.

“Oh. Alright.” You have to get out of this conversation before the tears that crept up behind your eyes make an appearance. “I’ll see you at lunch?” You don’t even wait for a response, already turned around towards a bathroom to get your shit together.

Gareth feels guilty as shit when he sees the way you shuffle off to the bathroom, your sniffles louder than you even realize. In fact, Eddie was just telling Gareth he was finally gaining the courage to ask you out. Unfortunately, your brain has already eliminated this idea altogether.

-

Eddie sits in his usual spot for the lunch period, a foot parked on the edge of the table as he leans back with his arms crossed, observing his friends arguing yet again. Doesn’t really matter what they’re arguing about, never really does. They could be arguing about which album of a certain artist is better, which class of character is better to play, or even which teacher sucks the most in the school.

They’re all pointless, and Eddie always has a final say in who wins the argument. Being the leader has its perks.

Even as he seems casual, he checks his watch occasionally because you’re still not there yet. He looks forward to your presence at the table, to the way you indulge in their idiotic fights, if only for a second. It never fails to amuse him. Usually, as of late, you’ve been picking a side just to piss off Mike, and he still hasn’t seemed to catch on yet.

Right now, Dustin and Mike are arguing over the stupidest thing yet, something not even worth mentioning. Lucas is trying to give his input that this isn’t worth fighting over, but they’re talking over him. Eddie wonders how long he’s going to let them hash it out for.

Gareth rolls his eyes as he watches Eddie’s face lights up as you finally make your way across the cafeteria to the table. You greet the entire table, letting your bag fall to the floor as you rest your chin on your hand.

Dustin immediately attempts to instigate you into the fight. “Hey, can you tell Mike that—”

“No offense, Dustin, but I really don’t care.” You interrupt him, sounding tired. The whole table but Eddie laughs at your answer.

This allows the table to segue into a different conversation, something that everyone can care about. Eddie takes the opportunity to lean in. “Are you not hungry?” He asks lowly, noting the lack of cafeteria tray you have today.

You can barely look him in those gorgeous brown eyes, your heart dropped to your gut the moment you heard he likes someone else. “Not really. Lost my appetite.”

His brows furrow, watching you avoid his eyes and sink into yourself. This was so unlike you. Usually, you’re much surer of yourself, an aura of confidence even he finds himself envious of at times. “Are you okay?” He asks again.

You shrug your shoulders, not committing to a yes or no answer. You finally lay your eyes on him, and he’s staring past you across the cafeteria, you follow his eyeline…directly to the cheerleader’s table. A realization hits you and somehow your heart drops even lower.

He likes a fucking cheerleader.

You should’ve known his type would be a girl who jumps up and down in a tiny skirt. Maybe you should’ve joined the cheer squad then. Then at least you would’ve had a damn chance.

Somehow, you don’t even have the appetite to sit next to him anymore. “Listen, I have to ask for help in my chemistry class, it’s kicking my ass. Um…”

Eddie is about to protest but you’ve already picked up your bag and started jogging out the large door of the cafeteria. In fact, you missed the rest of the school day to fucking wallow in this stupid heartache. Your mom doesn’t pay enough attention to the school's phone calls to begin with.

As you leave the cafeteria, Eddie gives a questioning look to his fellow Hellfire mates. Hell, if they know. Gareth knows, but they’ve made a collective agreement not to meddle, as much as it pained Dustin. Eddie was just gearing up the confidence to ask if you’d want to hang out that weekend, which is where he was planning on making his move for the first time. He didn't know what was upsetting you, but he figured it was something to do with your homelife, as it usually does.

However, he couldn’t have seen the next week coming.

As Eddie goes through the motions of barely making attendance and handing in assignments with maybe a paragraph of some bullshit he spewed, he usually has your pretty face to look forward to. In his second period, his leg bounces as he waits for you to sit next to him in your usual seat so he can have an opportunity to ask the damn question he’s been meaning to. He's in class on time for once, just to watch your pretty face as you walk to the back corner to sit with him. One benefit of repeating senior year is that he gets to have class with you now. If you could only see his face as it fell as you walked into the classroom and took the immediate seat right by the front door.

After an hour of over thinking, Eddie finally convinces himself you simply just weren’t in the mood for conversation. The way you avoid the Hellfire table when you walk into the cafeteria that day seems to prove that theory right. Until over the following week he sees you having conversations with other members of Hellfire. Alright, that hurts.

One day, he calls your name as you’re at your locker, and he catches your eye contact before you run towards the front door.

What the hell did he do wrong?

-

In your 7th or 8th day of narrowly avoiding Eddie, you end up having to walk home in a light drizzle. Usually you have your car, but your mom insisted on needing it for the day. On the occasion that she needed the car, usually you would grab a ride from Eddie. Right now, that just wasn’t an option.

You start to feel bad for the first time since your avoidance started. You saw how Eddie’s face fell every time you made eye contact and walked the other way. No matter how much you’ve wanted to talk to him, you just can't let your feelings go.

You just need distance. If you give yourself enough time, the idea of having to leave him so he can have date-night with another girl won’t send you into a mental spiral. If you give yourself enough time, you could stand the idea of listening to him gush about her. As of right now, there’s no possible way any of that sounds doable to you.

As you got up this morning, the weather was bright and sunny, warm on your skin. You wore a layered skirt and a tank top. Unfortunately, the rain was picking up slowly, and you’re sure it's going to be pouring by the time you get home, still another mile or two away.

You walk on the sidewalk, arms crossed over one another to prevent from shivering as much as you can, narrowly avoiding the splashing from tires as cars pass by. While the rain picks up, your ears barely pick up on a vehicle slowing down right by you.

“Get in!” You hear a voice, recognizing it off the bat.

You look up to face him, nice and dry in his van that he has pulled over right next to you. You can barely see him through the rain. You shake your head, continuing your walk home.

“Sweetheart, get in! You’re gonna get sick! It’s starting to thunder!” Eddie argues, driving slowly as you continue to walk.

“No, I’m fine!” You answer, your chattering teeth giving away your iron clad position.

“Oh, for fucks—” You think Eddie has given up, your eyes on the ground as you trudge forward, until you see his scuffed-up shoes in your direct eyeline. His firm hands land on the soft flesh of your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey. What the fuck did I do?”

Your eyes look up to him in surprise. “Huh?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for the last week and a half!” He yells, mostly because the rain has picked up so goddamn much.

“I-I just need space.” You tell him, attempting to get out of his hold.

“Wait, what? Why?” Eddie asks. Your eyes blink rapidly as you peer up at him, his curly hair already soaked from the rain. “What do you mean, you need space?”

You gulp out of both tears and frustration. “I just need space, Eddie! I need some time… to get used to it.”

You might as well have been speaking in tongues. “Get used to what? What the hell are you talking about?”

The words bubble up in your thoughts and through your throat before you can stop them. “You made it extremely clear that you don’t see me as anything other than a friend, and now you have a crush on some girl!”

Eddie couldn’t register a single word you were saying. It made no sense to him. “What?”

“I have made a complete fool out of myself! I basically put myself on display just for you to look at some girl shaking her ass in a cheerleader uniform.” You chuckle, wiping some rain from your face as it drips cold down your cheeks. “Maybe I should’ve joined the squad, then I would’ve stood a chance.”

“Wait, wait.” Eddie is having trouble processing any of this. “Can you please go from the start, sweetheart?”

“Gareth told me you like someone.” You admit, your voice faltering. “After sending signals for God knows how long, I guess I finally realize I’ve been making a fool out of myself with you.” You sigh, giving him the saddest look he's ever seen from you. “I just need some time to get over you.”

The information finally all seems to add up for Eddie. “Wait, sweetheart, back up.” Eddie says a soft smile landing on his face as he understands. “You-you like me?”

“Uh, yeah?” You answer, the answer obvious.

“And you think I like some cheerleader?” Eddie asks, pulling you closer to him.

God, this is torture. “I mean, you do, don’t you?”

He laughs, loud and…joyful. “God, no.” He says, and you nearly melt at the half smirk now settled on his face.

It's your turn to be confused. “Huh?”

“The girl I like is you, you dumbass.”

Suddenly your heart is in your ears, and you can’t think passed that smile on his face. The glint in his eyes is new, the look in his eye driving you stupidly crazy. “Wait, Ed, don’t fuck with me here.”

The hands resting on your shoulders float up to the shine of your cheeks, framing your face. Rain is dripping off his bangs and he’s nearly struggling through it but doesn’t seem to care. Truth is, he does not. All he can see is the shine of your lips from the rain. “Baby, I’ve been wanting to kiss those lips since the moment I saw you.”

Your breath hitches, staring at those lips you’ve stared at so many times. “Then what's stopping you?”

Your lips meet in the middle, rain colliding with one side of your face as you tilt your head. He takes the lead right away, your skin on fire as you are barely able to believe that this is real, and that he’s really kissing you. Eddie nibbles on your bottom lip, you let out a small whimper in response. Your tongue eagerly reaches out to meet his, the collision feeling like velvet. Eddie’s hand spreads out on your face, his limber fingers something you’ve fantasized about several times.

You continue to make out in the rain, one of your hands finding their way in his soaked hair. One hand is placed on the small on your back, tugging your body right up against his. Another whimper escapes your mouth, Eddie opening his mouth and breathing heavily into yours in a knee-jerk reaction.

Eddie separates from you, placing his forehead against yours. “You wanna get in now?” A half chuckle passes his lips at the sheer stupidity of this major miscommunication.

“Please.”

Eddie opens the back door to his van, already a blanket and pillow on the floor thanks to his habits in his free time. As you climb in, you squeeze the water from your hair, suddenly realizing you’re actually quite cold. Eddie observes your shivering. “Cold, baby?”

“Freezing.” You admit, grabbing a blanket folded in the corner. He helps you get wrapped up, rubbing your arms quickly. “I don’t wanna stop kissing you, though.” Another admission comes out just as easily.

“You sure?” He asks, walking on his knees to meet you.

“Just kiss me.” You tell him grabbing him by the jacket.

He chuckles as he meets your lips, his face dipping down to meet yours again. You fall backwards to lie down, tugging on his jacket so he lands on you. He giggles as he lands on his forearm right next to your head, all teeth against your lips as he smiles into you. Your legs curl up around his torso, tugging him impossibly closer.

“You have no—” He sighs, kissing you in intervals. “…No idea how badly I’ve wanted to kiss these pretty lips of yours.”

Your heart flutters as you giggle into the kiss, the compliments he showers you in too much to believe. “Ed, I-I want you to touch me…” You sigh, the blanket slowly falling off your body.

“Uh, don’t know if you know this, but I…I’ve never…” Eddie stutters, sounding nervous.

You let out a small huff of laughter. “It…it’s okay, Eddie.” Your hands entangle into the wet curls on his head. “Neither have I.”

Eddie lets out an audible gulp from the simple implications. “I think we should get off the main road before we start getting too into it, baby.”

“Oh, ok.” You tell him, butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

He sits back up, a noticeable tent in his pants making you feel flustered. You thought you felt something against your thigh, but mentally, you couldn’t fathom that he was hard for you. He extends his hand out for you, you accept it gratefully as he helps you scoot back out of the back. The two of you scurry to your prospective seats, the rain now coming down so fast your hair is soaked from the mere seconds it took you to get there.

Eddie pushes his wet mop of a head of hair to the side as he laughs with you at the scenario you currently find yourselves in. As he starts the van, he gives you a cocky eyebrow raise, the heat from the air vents surprising you in a blast. His heavy foot placed on the gas pedal surprises you, your head swinging backwards at the force.

Without asking, you know exactly where Eddie is headed. The drive takes longer than average, your nerves racking sky high as his strong hand holds yours absentmindedly.

The rain continues its assault from the sky, a flash of lighting reflecting in the water as you pull up to the edge of Lovers’ Lake. As Eddie brakes, your head falls back onto the fabric covered headrest, eyes closing as you place his hand in yours in your lap. The heat of your arousal is radiating off you, your thumb absentmindedly smoothing over Eddie’s.

There’s nothing you’ve wanted more than to be sweaty with him on top of you, but now that it’s about to happen, the fact is nearly overwhelming. As you soak in the sound of the rain on the roof of the van, Eddie presses his hand where you have it on your upper thigh, putting pressure on it. An involuntary whimper escapes your throat, and as your lungs fill up with air Eddie leans in across the gap of the seats, a chuckle leaving those sweet lips as he nuzzles into your neck.

A sigh leaves your lips as you can feel his teeth start to nibble lightly, relaxing into it. He places his other arm over you, coming up to rub your torso as his tongue delicately laps along your jugular. “Ed…can we lie down?” You ask, your eyelids starting to feel heavy.

“You wanna climb, or you wanna get out?” On cue, a flash of lightning hits right on the lake. “Climb?”

“Climb.” You agree, giving him your sweetest smile.

“Ladies first?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the back.

You awkwardly place your knee on the middle console your hands having a rough landing on the blanket covered floor of the van as you start to crawl forward. Behind you, Eddie appreciates the view, how your pink, thin panties beautifully showcase the outline of your cunt, still soaked from the rain. Well the rain and your arousal, of course.

You turn around, one leg bent as you wait for Eddie to climb over. His hand moves to turn on the overhead light, then he slowly crawls his way to you, the look in his darkened eyes sending a thrill up your spine. By the time his body lines up with yours, you’re giggling out of nervousness, wondering where this energy came from.

He hovers over you, the wide smile on his face as he switches between your eyes sending your nerves up into the atmosphere. Your legs open for him, accepting him as he lays on top of you. His hair starts to fall over your face as he leans in, his mouth deliciously open as he kisses you some more.

“Ed.” You mumble, moving your hands to where they seem to favour, the collar of his leather jacket. “Take this off.”

He hums as he follows your order, sliding the jacket off his shoulders as he continues to kiss you. Well, his multi-tasking is a bit jagged, but you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You admire his newly exposed arms sitting in his wet muscle shirt. He leans down to continue lapping at your neck again, adding more teeth to turn your neck purple, having stared at this part when you stretch out a kink or two from your neck.

You’re so turned on; you can feel it in your bones. “Eddie,” you whimper out, eyes closed as you give in to the way his tongue feels electric. “I need you to touch me, please.” You beg him, your pussy begging you for attention.

“Of course, baby,” Eddie gulps, and knowing him, you could hear his nerves.

“Hey,” you say, reaching out to hold his face. “I can help you, just reach out to touch me and I’ll tell you how to do it. I just need your fucking fingers on me, please.”

Eddie leans in, kissing gently along your jawline. “I know, maybe I just wanted to hear you beg.”

You roll your eyes, calling him out on his bluff. “Mmhmm. Just fucking touch me, Munson.”

Eddie’s hesitancy seemed to die right there, his unsteady fingers simply placed over the thin layer of your panties makes you gasp, just the light touch giving you some satisfaction. “You were saying?”

Eddie starts to lightly trace along the folds, noting how it dips right where your hole would be. Eddie can’t help but get harder as the heat from your pussy radiates. “Feels good…” you mutter, sighing lightly. “Just a little harder, please?”

“You want it harder, sweetheart?” He asks, you nod enthusiastically. “You sure?” You nod again, frustrated at his damn questions.

He puts pressure on his fingers, experimentally starting to circle them around. “Little higher, Ed.” You tell him as he just grazes your clit. He listens, moving his fingers a half of an inch higher and continuing. He moves his fingers just high enough, starting to circle perfectly on your clit. You moan out loud, letting out small gasps. “Right there, right there!”

“Oh my god.” Eddie mumbles to himself, watching your face crumple up as your legs fall more open. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you moan like this…fucking stunning.” Your moans grow louder, your thighs starting to tense. Eddie suddenly stops, and you whimper at the loss. You feel him start to move your panties aside. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, your head perks up, watching his face as he stares at your exposed pussy for the first time.

The heat in your pussy increases, tenfold, weeping just from his intense stare.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, mouth half open and his eyes don’t even blink. “Eddie?” You ask, starting to feel self-conscious.

“Wow…” he mutters, eyes finally locking with yours. “I knew your pussy would be pretty, I didn’t know it would be this ravishing.”

You gulp, feeling more wanted than you knew you ever could.

His fingers trace gently along your folds, just feeling your pussy. As he hears a whimper from you, a note of your impatience, he suddenly turns his hand upside down starting to touch with more pressure. “Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” He whispers. “All…all this for me?”

You’re wet for him more than he knows, but your mouth can’t even communicate it, your brain having gone dumb from his touch alone.

He licks his lips, starting to rub at your folds purposely. “Look at this pretty little cunt, oh my god…wonder…” he doesn’t finish his thought, but when his long digit makes its way in you, you can deduce what he was thinking. He slides it in and out slowly, the length of his finger reaching much farther than yours ever have.

Your breathing gains speed and depth, adding another finger and fucking you slow, yet perfect. “Eddie.” You moan, your slick dripping down your ass and onto the blanket. Eddie moves his fingers faster, looking at your face for your response. “F-faster!”

Eddie lets out a huff of laughter you don’t hear, too caught up in the pleasure. “Jus’ gonna…” He leans in, and his tongue flat against your clit yanks the first genuine moan out of you, the pleasure all encompassing.

“Just like that! Please, Eddie, so close, please!” You beg him, the orgasm sneaking on you as it hurtles toward you, just around the corner.

He switches up, still new to this whole thing, but he makes up for it by gripping onto the soft flesh of your thighs and starting to fuck his tongue into your weeping hole. His lips create a sort of suction around the length of your lips, and the heat that radiates into your thighs becomes too fucking much as your thighs close hard against his ears.

“Gonna…” it’s the only warning you can provide for him before your entire body tenses up, a primal moan leaving your lips. Eddie works you through your orgasm, holding your thighs held against his head and revelling in how you soak his lips. He’s pictured his nose against your pussy too many times to already be satisfied.

As you finally come down, Eddie is still fucking into you with his tongue, seemingly not giving up. You lift your head up, your thighs now loose as you peer at him. “Ed?” You ask, the sensitivity of your puffy lips causing your thighs to quiver a little bit. “Wh-what are you doing?”

His tongue leaves your cunt for only half a second. “’M not done yet.” It’s warbled, his hot breath right against you eliciting another whimper.

Your head falls hopelessly against the van floor, his thumb contacting your clit and tongue swirling against your walls, moaning into your pussy. As you’re still sensitive, the second orgasm starts brewing in your tummy quickly. “Eddie, it’s too much.” You say, attempting to squiggle your hips away from his relentless tongue. “Too-too much.”

“Mmm, ‘can do it.” He mumbles, doubling down on his pattern.

“Ed…Eddie!” You cum into his mouth, your torso involuntarily tensed as you raised, incoherent sounds leaving your lips as you wither beneath him.

As your thighs relax again, he licks a last few times, as if trying to collect all the slick covering your pussy. After one last time, he looks up to you, licking his lips as you recollect yourself. “Was that ok?” He asks, breathing heavily and sweating as if he just ran a marathon.

You give him a look of disbelief, eyes furrowing as you shake your head. “Was…was that okay?” You repeat back to him in astonishment. “Eddie that was…I-I it was… I don’t know who taught you to do that, but it wasn’t me, Jesus!”

He crawls up to you, smile on his face gloriously cocky. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh!” You confirm, your voice indicating that you’re stating the obvious.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says, mouth just hovering over yours.

“What a coincidence, been wanting you to do that for a while.” You smirk, switching your glance between his hypnotising eyes and his glossy pink lips. He finally leans in for a kiss, tongue reaching out to meet yours in a dance of straight up pleasure. “Ed…” You whine, bunching up the wet muscle shirt he’s wearing in your fists.

“Hmm?” He asks, slowly kissing you.

“I wanna help you.” You sheepishly admit, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Please?”

“Help?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance in the meaning of your request.

“I wanna suck your cock, please, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a laugh in incredulity. “Holy shit, please.” It’s damn near a whine, music to your ears.

You giggle in response, finally the shoe on the other foot as you get to now hear those moans as a result of what you do to him, and not through his bathroom door. Experimentally, you reach down, feeling at the tent you’ve felt brush against your thigh as you made out with him. At the mere brush of your hand on the outline of his cock, he moans, and you bite your lip in anticipation.

One leg bends, using it to push and get him onto his back. You sit up, straddling him as you assess his astonished expression. As soon as you sit up, however, you notice the twitch of his cock right under your pussy. Your breath stutters at it, not realizing your bodies would line up this well. As if your brain knows what to do before even you do, your hips start rutting against him, alluring a moan in sync from the two of you.

“Oh my god,” Eddie whimpers, eyes rolling in the back of his head. If you could, you’d take a picture of him.

You giggle, attempting some ounce of self-discipline as you start to crawl down his body, already missing the twitch of his dick against your bare pussy. If just his dick against you feels this good, you wonder how great he would feel inside you, and you almost run out of patience.

No. You want this power: to be on your knees as he moans for you. Show some fucking discipline.

Your hands fumble as you undo the button on his jeans and Eddie lifts his hips as you move them down his legs. You want to tease him over his thin boxers, but the anticipation is too much, the need of the weight of what appears to be his thick cock on your tongue too great. You tug down his boxers, his cock popping out deliciously.

The look of pure lust you saw on Eddie is essentially copy and pasted onto you, your eyes darkening as you take in his length for the first time.

“Uh, baby?” He asks, watching as you’re stuck in some sort of trance.

“So pretty.” You mumble to the pink head, precum already pearling at the slit. Your tongue darts out, wanting a taste of the salt dressing it. You sigh in satisfaction, eyes closing as you wrap your hand around the base. Tentatively, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently.

“What a good mouth, oh my god.” He babbles, hands in his own hair in a haze.

If you could, you’d smile. Only knowing from a magazine with blowjob tips, you start to move your mouth up and down his length, barely able to take in half of it. Your mouth sucks harshly on him, moaning around him as slobber starts to gather at the base. As a way to get the spit off your hand, you rub it on to his cock almost in exact time as you continue sucking.

“Baby, baby, do that again.” He whines, his gasps audible. You follow his request immediately, moving your hand in tandem with your mouth. “Just like that, so good, thank-thank you.”

A sense of pride hits you, increasing your speed as his legs start to move aimlessly around under you. Your jaw starts to become sore, so you decide to experiment some more. You give one long lick from base to tip, chasing a vein that travels around his cock. At the skin around his base, you suck lightly, giggling as he lets out a deep moan. You recall one tip telling you not to neglect the balls, so you travel down to one, sucking on the ribbed skin empirically.

“Fuck—I—” Eddie stutters out between loud gasps of pleasure, eyes closed.

You lick under it, trying to get every inch of skin as your hand absentmindedly strokes him. Your tongue goes back for his now leakier tip, engulfing his cock to the furthest of the back of your throat you possibly can, your gag reflex choking on him.

“Choke on that fat cock, baby, fucking choke on it!”

His stern tone surprises you, yet still turns you on as you continue the choking, now on purpose. You slobber all over his cock, one hand travelling up to hold his hand.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking close…” You double down on every action, his hand squeezing the life out of yours. “Gonna cum down your throat…fuck—”

Eddie lets out the greatest moan of all time, a salty thick substance shooting down your throat as you swallow it easily. You barely have a chance to taste it, too much coming too fast to keep track, attempting to swallow it all. His cock finally stops twitching in your mouth, and as your mouth leaves him, you leave a final sweet kiss on the bright red tip.

As you lift your head to assess him, you see the obvious way his chest breathes in and out, catching his breath. You bite your lip as his eyes stay closed, palm on his forehead as he recovers. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah?” You ask, having never given head before.

“Uh, yeah!” He says as if he’s stating the obvious, falling back on the blanket. “Mere.” He sits back up, grabbing you at the shirt and putting his lips on yours. You moan into his mouth, panting happily as his tongue makes contact with yours. “Fuck, did you swallow?” He asks, fabric of your thin tank top lifted by his hand on your bare skin.

“Mmhmm!” You confirm, giggling as he lets out a sigh of contentment.

Eddie lifts your shirt off, the light-yellow fabric see through from the rain. He throws it across the van, moving you onto your back with his hand supporting the small of it. As he lies down alongside you, mouth slowly moving against yours and a hand trails along your skin, setting it on fire, yet goosebumps appear on your skin in its wake. His hand reaches its destination, travelling under the wire of your bra and starting to play with your peaked nipple.

You whimper into his mouth as he plays with it, tugging on it and sending pleasure down your spine. Your hands leave from where they were stationed on his shoulders to your skirt, trying to move it down your hips. “No, no, let me.” Eddie laughs, his hand leaving your nipple and replacing your hands on your skirt.

He tugs both your skirt and panties down off your legs, moving down the length as he gets them off your feet. You giggle and take off your shoes with it, watching as Eddie finishes taking off his pants and shoes as well.

Eddie lands back between your legs, his eyes hungry, making you feel vulnerable. A single hand, ever ambitious, moves around your back to take your bra off. To your surprise, he takes it off single handedly, the bra snapping off your back as a cheshire grin of satisfaction makes its way onto Eddie's lips. Finally, you move your hands around his back to help him take off his muscle shirt, admiring as each tattoo is revealed, finally allowed to ogle him.

You bite your lip, admiring him in the low light of the van. Eddie falters for a second, gulping. “I…I don’t have a condom.” He admits sheepishly.

You giggle, smiling at him happily. “I don’t care about that, I just need you to fuck me, Ed.”

He smiles, leaning in for a sweet, lush kiss. “I…I have to tell you something.” He sighs, on all fours as he hovers over you.

Your stomach swoops nervously. “Um…okay.”

He lines himself up, the tip slight pressure against your hole. “Okay?”

You nod, now confused. Wasn’t he going to tell you someth-oh my god. He slowly enters you, the pain over taking the pleasure, but the feeling still phenomenal.

“So tight.” He grunts, arms still straight as he waits for you to adjust.

It starts to feel overwhelmingly better, Eddie pulsing inside you, you can feel every inch against your walls. “More.” You plead.

Eddie pushes in a bit more, a high whine leaving your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby, taking this big fat cock.”

“Cock feels…so good…” You sigh, eyes closing on their own accord. “Didn’t…didn’t you have something to say?”

He laughs, his cock twitching in tandem. “I do…”

“You’re inside me, and you’re still a tease?” You ask, humming as it turns to pleasure again. “More.”

Eddie pushes in a little bit more, licking his lips as he takes in your pleasure-stricken face. “A tease, eh?” He asks, wondering what you meant.

“Walking in with your chest still wet—” you whine, interrupting yourself, “the cut off sleeves you wear, mast-masturbating in the shower…more.”

“Just a little bit more baby.” You don’t know how he could be any deeper, you’re pretty sure he’s already at your cervix. “Wait…you heard me in the shower?”

You huff a breath of laughter, tightening around him. “Mmhmm. Sounded so fucking hot, I might’ve touched myself in your bed when I heard it.”

Eddie moves in a final time without your say-so, and you moan in surprise. “Sorry, baby, you just—you just took me by surprise. You touched yourself in my bed? When I was in the shower?”

“Only because I could hear you.” You admit, your legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him closer to you.

“You could hear me? I was so sure I was being quiet.” He admits, his breath hot against your skin as he lies directly against you.

“Not really.” You admit, biting your lip in embarrassment. “It was so fucking hot, Ed.”

Eddie sighs, peppering kisses against your skin. “Well, I was thinking of you and those thin pjs you wear, sweetheart, so I guess it was a mutual masturbation.”

“I wondered if that was working.” You admit, humour in your voice. Eddie shakes his head, everything suddenly making sense. He kisses you deeply, hips still stagnant as he allows you to get used to his girth.

“So, you had something you wanted to tell me, Eddie?” You ask, slowly caressing the side of his torso, lightly tracing the tattoos you come in contact with.

“Mmhm.” He hums, leaning down to kiss skin gently, any skin he could reach. “Thanks for remembering.”

You roll your eyes, starting to get antsy at his still hips. “Just tell me.”

“I’m telling you this, because it broke me to see your reaction after you thought I even liked someone else.” The heartache seems so far away now, especially since he’s currently balls deep inside you. “I don’t just like you, sweetheart.” He admits, his voice suddenly soft and sweet. “I’m in love with you. I have been in love with you for as long as I’ve known you, at least, I think…I don’t know. But I don’t want anyone else, never have, baby. I just. Want.” Unexpectedly, he lifts his lips, pulling a gasp. “You.” He bucks his hips once for emphasis, taking in the already fucked out look on your face as you take in everything he just gave you.

“Really?” You ask in a light whisper, breathing heavily. “You-you love me?”

“Mmhmm.” He affirms, his hips bucking out slowly yet again.

“I-I love you too, Ed.” You admit, your heart open and full, every part of you, full, as he slowly fucks into you.

The words take a minute to register, his hips stilling completely. It’s such a tease, the way his hips still after only mere seconds of starting their trek. You whimper as an answer, your hips lifting to silently request that he’d continue. “Ed?”

“Oh my god…” he mutters, slowly lapping his way down your neck. “I’m so crazy for you, baby, so fucking insane.”

“Can…you please move?” You request politely, legs tense at his hips as your cunt begs for more attention.

“Need this fat cock to fuck you good, don’t you, baby?” He manages out, voice with a hint of husk in it as he continues to kiss his way down your body. The dip of your collarbone, valley of your tits, biting at the areola, licking dirtily along the curve of your breast…as far as he could go without his cock leaving you. “Hmm? Just desperate for it, aren’t you?”

One side of you wants to ask him where he's come up with this, because it’s driving you absolutely wild. The other side doesn’t fucking care where he got it from, the pleasure from his delicate licks consuming you whole. At a loss for words, you nod your head.

He grunts as he bucks himself into you, this one harder than the last. “Oh? Can’t use your words, baby?”

You whine, feeling pathetic, and yet, ravishing in it. “I just want you to rail me, please, please, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He asks, turning his lips into your neck again, muttering against your throat. “How bad?”

“Enough to think about you” you huff, heat floating to your cheeks, hesitant in saying it. Could he just…keep moving? Please?

His teeth graze your ear, nipping at it. “Wanna finish that sentence, love?” Eddie asks, his voice making your thighs clench together around his hips.

“Eddie, I've thought about you everytime I fucked my pussy with my fingers. I’ve thought about you fucking me more times than I can count.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how many times I’ve fucked my fist praying one day it would be you…whimpering and whining for me.”

“Then turn me into a fucking mess, Ed. Please.”

Finally, his lips leave your throat and he looks at you, his grin manic as those adorable dimples finally give you that look you’ve been craving for what feels like eons at this point. His hips move into action, fucking you at a force that pulls feral grunts out of your mouth, sounds you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.

“Baby, your pussy is so tight, just pulling me in.” He grunts, one hand curling its way into your hair, pulling lightly at the roots.

“Eddie, your cock feels so fucking good. Fucking—keep going—oh my god.”

Eddie is torn between moaning, grunting, and thoughts that are never finished. His hand, nimble and huge, trails up and down your torso, your legs, touching every inch he can. Finally, two of his fingers make their way to your clit, rubbing it with fervour. Your pussy clenches around his length as he continually bucks into you, the mix of sensations too much, and yet, everything you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Eddie, can you please do something for me?” You ask, reaching out to hold his face with both hands and giving him a sweet kiss.

He sighs into your kiss, tongue connecting with yours, and you feel dizzy and high in pleasure. “Anything, angel.”

“Want you to call me a slut.”

He leans in for another kiss, much dirtier and much needier. His hips rut into yours desperately. “Yeah? Dunno if you’ve really earned it…” he comments, teasing you.

You don’t realize he’s egging you on, desperate for him in ways you didn’t think you could be. Your mind goes to the thing it was fixated on when Eddie once held your face, hands petting two fingers absentmindedly. You grab at the same two fingers, nimble and long, and place them in your mouth, sucking as you wrap your tongue around them.

Eddie’s mouth opens, jaw slack as his tongue pokes out. A shine appears in his eyes, glazing over as they fixate on your mouth. Your mind might’ve been tricking you, but you swear his dick twitches inside you. His hips have stopped…again. “Oh shit, my dirty little slut.”

You nod your head enthusiastically, rutting your hips up again, silently begging for more. You moan around him, eyes hooded, Eddie blurring in your vision from the steep want. Your teeth graze his fingers lightly, lapping your tongue over it when he whines. Around his fingers you choke, your mouth hot and wet. Your mouth leaves his fingers for a moment, light shining in the spit glazing your mouth. “Baby I need you to fuck me. Please, Ed. Please.”

“Listen to this little slut beg for it. Can you beg some more? Hm? See that pretty little mouth beg, just for me.” His low rumble only spurring you on further.

Eddie knows you love what that husky voice is saying as your pussy pulses around him. “Hmm. Eddie, please, please fuck me. Need that cock so fucking bad. You have no idea how much you turn me on, your rings, your arms, fuck, that pretty fucking mouth, those gorgeous eyes, oh my fucking god. I have needed you to fuck me for this last year, please, Ed, just rail me until I can’t think.”

Your chest is heaving, eyes slowly assessing Eddie’s reaction. A smile slowly creeps on his face, until it’s a smirk that sends a shiver right through you. Your eyes dart back and forth between his, anticipating his next move, biting your lip. The first thing he does is lean down to give you a kiss, that can simply be described as romantic. His tongue reaches out to connect with yours, gliding together in a dance that you don’t think you’ll ever get over.

Honestly, you think, if his kiss ever bores you, the person to your left better beat your ass for taking for granted how fantastic these lips are.

After a moment of just his lips on yours, lying together so unified, you aren’t sure where he stops and you begin. Slowly, his kisses move from your lips, down the dip of your neck, and he licks slowly up to your ear. “Hmm. Fuck you until you can’t think? Baby, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

A moan leaves your throat, a hint of a whimper. His lips curl up more against your ear, a light laugh huffing against it.

Then, his hips get to work.

Every goddamn time Eddie stopped, every time he made you beg for him to keep going, whether it be silent or verbal, he makes up for it tenfold as soon as his hips start moving. He pushes up, using his hands to lift his body up and start fucking you at a relentless pace. Slowly, you recognize an annoying squeak fades in the background, the sound of the axel against his differential from his hips bucking wonderfully.

Not a word leaves your throat, the only sounds are small gasps falling from your lips, faster and faster as the pleasure impossibly grows within you. It feels like an aura of heat, radiating from your full pussy, and throughout your body.

“Feel good, baby? Feel that fat cock fucking you, good and full?” He grunts out from between gritted teeth.

You nod, whines leaving your throat, one shock at a time.

His hand on your hip tightens, nails digging into the doughy skin of your ass. “Hey, slut. I asked you a fucking question.”

“So good…so good…so fucking good…so fucking good. Ed-Eddie…I—” You’re cut off by your own shout, the way he hits hard, and deep, impossibly harder.

“Look at my cock-drunk little slut, taking this cock so well.” He mutters, voice deep and gasping for air. “Fuck, feels so good.”

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him so his forehead lands on yours, harshly, but in a way that makes him grunt…almost…animalistic…

“Cum…cum in me…” it’s a struggle to get out, but once it does, you witness Eddie falter for just a second.

“R-really?”

“Please, please cum in me. Want it dripping out of me, please baby.”

His hand stutters in its movements, sliding up from your hips, to your neck, hands gently raising on the front. “Want me to cum in you?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Want me to claim you as yours?”

“Been…been yours since I sat down at—ah—your table, Ed.”

“That’s fucking right, you have, you’re all fucking—all fucking mine.”

His hip movements are a little more jagged, his breathing heavy and jagged. “Harder.”

He chuckles, hand tightening around your throat, a grunt leaving your throat at each fucking hit. “Fuck…gonna—”

He cuts himself off, his cum filling you up deliciously in spurts of hot, white, mess. You go over the edge with him, your orgasm hitting you in a way that will have you fucking skipping around the halls of the school. You whine his name, choked out past his ring-necklace wrapped around your neck.

His torso collapses on yours, covered in sweat in the thick of the van.

His hand leaves your neck, both wrapping themselves into your hair. You seem to finally catch your breath, almost gasping as his weight is the most comforting thing you’ve ever felt in your life. He’s laid on you several times before, but never this intimate, his breath mixing with yours, making you feel whole.

You giggle, a smile that takes over your face in every muscle, completely lighting up. As much as you try, you can’t hold it in. It floats down your face and into your body, every limb full of complete joy. Eddie twists his head into your neck, you feel the wide smile he makes, gorgeous laughter leaving his lips against you. His teeth nip at your neck, making you giggle harder, hands flying up to your face.

Eddie leans up his face to see yours, the lazy smile lopsided, a pretty shine in his eyes. It’s…new…and radiant. You giggle again as you look up at him, your hands landing on each side of his rosy, glowing, cheeks. His skin is hot and flushed, your thumbs slowly caressing his face.

He leans in for another kiss, gentle this time, making you feel all too dizzy. A sigh of utter contentment leaves your mouth, biting your lips anxiously. “Hi, love.” He mutters, a lithe finger moving a strand of hair that fell into your eye. “Doin’ good?”

You nod, shyly rubbing your head into his chest. “Very good.”

He laughs, tilting his head up to face the roof of the van, still sheltering you from the sturdy and never-ending rain. “Fuck, rain hasn’t stopped.”

“It’s pretty.” You comment, observing the pattern of the roof his van. “I love the sound.”

He hums, eyes raking you over as he leans into you. “Not as good as the sounds you make.”

You roll your eyes, hitting his arm gently. “Eddie.” You giggle, legs wrapping themselves around him. “What a line.”

His lips softly land on your cheek, giving you a final kiss. “Not a line, just the truth.” He whispers, hands now preparing himself to lift out of you.

“Wait.” You stop him, holding on to one of those strong arms of his. “I—I really don’t want you to leave yet, baby.”

A laugh escapes his throat, in utter disbelief if anything. “Oh, we have plenty of time for cock-warming, gorgeous, don’t you fucking worry.” He assures you. “I just thought we could go to my house, make out and watch a movie, ya know?”

“Mmhmm.” You answer, still moaning at the loss that was too much to handle. “I just wanted to…revel in it.”

“Oh, I love you so fucking much.” He sighs, grinning at you as he crawls to his clothes.

You lean up into your elbows, a symphony of giggles leaving your throat as he tosses your panties into your face. “Can we make out on your couch?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Eddie tells you, curly hair that’s already frazzled from the humidity even crazier from the tryst. “Hell, you can ride me, let’s get out of his van before we both catch a cold.”

You put on the skirt he hands to you. “Both?”

“Yep.” He nods, also throwing his jacket. “You walked a mile in the pouring rain with no jacket on. You’re gonna be a mess this weekend.”

Nodding, you agree with him. “I mean I’ll be a mess either way, no?”

Eddie shakes his head as he puts on his shirt, giving you a look you’ve been dying for him to shoot you. As if he’s so lucky to have caught you.

He’s wrong, you’re the lucky one. The two of you finally finish getting dressed, meeting in the middle in your cold, wet clothes. You crawl into his arms, nuzzling his chest as he places a kiss on your damp hair. “C’mon, let’s figure out how far we can get into Halloween before ripping each other’s clothes off again.”

You giggle, climbing into the passenger seat. If it was up to you, the tape wouldn’t even make it into the VCR.

Your hand intertwines with his on the way there, your whole body relaxing into the fabric seats. He can’t keep his eyes on the road, glancing at you every five seconds. It’s hard to believe only twelve hours ago you were in bed cocooned because your heart was aching so badly.

Now your heart aches in a completely different way, and it’s from not being able to comprehend that you could love and be loved in return just as much.

The next morning, Wayne walks into his trailer to see clothes scattered along the hall. You didn’t even make it to the couch.

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

[gojolvs]

I still want you.

Chapter 8

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Falling in love with the Satoru Gojou wasn’t an easy task. You truly love him but will this come to an end?

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message on the box. Also super sorry for not updating but im back!

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Before you knew it, you had arrived back at your hotel, Sumire sleeping on your arms. With a sigh, you got up from the bus seat and made your way to the entrance. As you carried him to the room, you couldn't help but smile at how peaceful he looked.

As you walked to your room, constantly feeling your phone vibrate with messages and missed calls, a wave of guilt washed over you. You had just stormed out of your sister's wedding party in a fit of anger and now you couldn't help but feel selfish and regretful. You knew that your actions had caused a scene and potentially ruined her special day. The weight of your decision and its consequences weighed heavily on your conscience.

Was she really pregnant by Satoru? Do you mean absolutely nothing to him? Although you had shared an intimate night the night you went to the bar, you felt stupid for believing his lies. These thoughts were swirling around in your head, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn't believe that he would do this to you, especially after everything you had been through together. The trust you had in him was shattered, and you couldn't help but feel foolish for falling for his smooth words and false promises. It was a painful reminder that sometimes, people are not who they seem to be.

Maybe you should've taken that trip with Sumire, just the two of you, to clear your mind. But now, it was too late. You were committed to this path, no matter how unsure you felt. As you walked, the sound of your heels clicking on the concrete floor was a constant reminder of the life you were leaving behind. And with each step, you couldn't help but curse under your breath, knowing that your new pair of Jimmy Choo heels were now ruined.

You felt the tiredness of caring him hit you mid way to the elevator. You sighed with relief as the elevator doors opened, grateful for the brief moment of rest.

As you stepped inside, you couldn't help but wonder how much longer you could keep up this routine. But then you looked down at Sumire in your arms, and you knew you would do anything for him. You straightened your back and held him a little tighter, determined to make it through the rest of the day with a smile on your face.

"Well, someone looks happy." Turning to your side, you barely noticed the tall man with pink hair staring at you. Curling your smile into an awkward one, you turned back to continue trying to shove Sumire up, as he was slipping from your hold. Although the man's comment had caught you off guard, you didn't want to engage in a conversation with a stranger while holding your child. Plus, his pink hair and unusual choice of words made you a bit uncomfortable. You focused on sumire and decided to ignore him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone.

"Yeah, well I'm happy to be with my son is all," you chuckled awkwardly. Despite the pink-haired man being oddly attractive, you weren't really looking for a conversation because unfortunately for you, Sumire was starting to wake up. "Do you need help carrying him? It looks like you're struggling," the man said, curling his lips into a genuine smile.

As you handed over your toddler, a wave of anxiety washed over you. You knew that letting a stranger hold your child was not a wise decision, but you were desperate for a break from carrying him. With a mixture of hesitation and aggression, you reluctantly agreed. The man's reaction was unexpected - he froze in place as your little white haired boy happily grabbed onto his neck and curled up. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight. "Well since you're carrying my kid, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Y/N."

"My name is Sukuna." The pink haired man said, he silently checked you out. Looking at your heels to your dress he definitely knew you had some type of cash on you. All you were wearing was designer brands. "Nice to meet you." you said clutching your purse. You wondered if the man was here on a business trip because of the way he was dressed. He was wearing a suite which suited his body figure well.

You couldn't help but notice he looked a little like one of sumire's friends from school. However, his intense gaze and calculating demeanor made you feel uneasy. It was almost as if he was sizing you up, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that he had ulterior motives for wanting to meet you. You started to second-guess your decision to meet him, wondering if it was safe to trust him.

"Wait a minute... I know you." He said chuckling.

Realizing that you had never met this man before, you glanced back at the elevator sign, wondering if he had mistaken you for someone else. However, as you looked back at him, his chuckle turned into a sly smile and you couldn't help but feel suspicious. Who was this man and why did he seem to recognize you? You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off."why is this elevator so damn slow" you thought.

"You do?" You laughed awkwardly, trying to hide the fear in your voice. All you could do was pray that he wasn't some serial killer.

"Mmm yeah I do. You're Satoru Gojos wife right?" tilting his head a little. You sighed, he was definitely one of Satorus business partners.

The man continued to look at you curiously, his pink hair falling into his dark eyes. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious under his gaze. "Yes, I am. And who might you be?" you replied, trying to maintain a polite tone despite your growing irritation. It seemed like Satoru's business partners were always popping up at the most inconvenient times.

"Well im just associated with your husband because we both work for the same industry." nodding your head you couldn't help but feel relieved when the elevator doors finally opened on your floor.

"I can take him from here." reaching for Sumire the man just backed up a bit.

"Where's your room? I can take him there," he said. You sighed in defeat as you stepped out of the elevator. Walking down the hallway towards your hotel room, you couldn't help but feel frustrated with Sukuna's constant presence. You knew he was only trying to help, but having him follow you everywhere was starting to become suffocating.

You could also tell that he was most definitely checking you out as you walked towards your room. Where was satoru when you needed him.

"So how long have you been married for?" Sighing, you shook your head, feeling the weight of your failing marriage. Finally getting to your room, you opened your purse to try and find the keys, hoping to escape the tension and disappointment that had been plaguing your relationship.

"Just a few years," you replied, finally grabbing your keys and unlocking the door. You turned around to face the pink haired man, smiling with gratitude. "Thank you so much for your help. Please come in and put him in the bed."

He gently put sumire down on the bed, straightening him self he cracked his knuckles before walking back out. You followed him planning on thanking him before he left. As you followed him, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his help and wanted to thank him before he left. However, you also couldn't help but notice the slight tension in his knuckles as he walked, perhaps a sign of the physical strain he had endured while carrying Sumire to the bed. You made a mental note to check on him later and offer your gratitude for his assistance.

As Sukuna stood by your side, you silently closed the door behind you, leaving only the two of you outside in the hallway. Turning to Sukuna, you couldn't help but smile and say, "Thank you for carrying my son all this way."

"I'm just happy to help," Sukuna replied with a smile, "Your son is a great kid." You nodded, grateful for Sukuna's assistance in carrying your sleeping child out of the elevator.

Sukuna couldn't help but lean closer, and as he did, you caught a whiff of his strong, expensive cologne. Your heart raced, wondering if he was hitting on you. But as you glanced to the side, you noticed someone standing by you.

"Leave her alone," Toji stood in front of you, pushing Sukuna away. Sukuna groaned in disappointment, "Toji, nice to see you too." The tension between the two of them was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for Toji's intervention.

"What are you doing here?" you said in a low voice, toji stared at sukuna. Not paying attention to you as he was trying to get sukuna to leave. "Come on man, I can't talk to her?" Toji rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by Sukuna's presence. You couldn't help but feel caught in the middle of their argument.

With a sigh, Sukuna made his way out of the hallway, leaving you and Toji alone. Surprisingly, the tension that had filled the air seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm and understanding between the two of you. It was as if Sukuna's departure lifted a weight off your shoulders, allowing you to fully relax in Toji's presence. The atmosphere had changed into something more peaceful, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment of tranquility.

"You followed me?" Confused you stared at him

"Yes, I did. I was worried about you," Toji replied with a concerned expression. "I saw you walk out alone and I couldn't just let you go without making sure you were okay." He squeezed your arm gently, his eyes full of worry. "Are you alright?"

Nodding your head you couldnt help but see that Toji's chest was going up n down fast. He had sweat beats forming on his forehead most likely meaning he sprinted here. "Did you run all the way here?"

Nodding your head, you couldn't help but notice that Toji's chest was rising and falling rapidly. Sweat beads were forming on his forehead, most likely meaning he had sprinted here. "Did you run all the way here?" you asked, concerned for his well-being. Toji smiled and nodded, "Yeah, I wanted to make sure I got here in time to see you." You couldn't help but feel touched by his dedication and effort.

Toji was just staring, taking in your facial features. He couldn't help but admire your features, from the curve of your lips to the sparkle in your eyes. Every detail seemed to captivate him, leaving him in awe of your beauty. But as he gazed at you, he couldn't help but wonder, what was your secret? How could someone be so effortlessly and naturally stunning?

He leaned in, gently cupping your cheek in his hand. His intense gaze held yours, making you feel weak in the knees. You could feel your cheeks heat up and your body tense as his hand caressed your skin. The electricity between you was palpable, and you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your stomach. Maybe it was time for you to move on and find someone who actually cares about you. Someone who would treat you with love, respect, and kindness. You deserve to be with someone who values you and makes you feel appreciated.

You put your hand behind his head and pulled him closer, your lips inching towards each other. Maybe Toji was that someone, the one who could treat you with love and kindness, unlike the others who had only caused you pain and heartache. As you leaned in for a kiss, you couldn't help but hope that this could be the start of something real and beautiful. The fear of getting hurt once more overwhelmed you, causing you to hesitate and pull away from his soft lips. Memories of past heartbreaks and betrayals flooded your mind, making it difficult to fully embrace the present moment. You couldn't help but question his intentions and whether or not you were making the right decision by allowing him to kiss you.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his face inches from yours. You could see the hunger in his eyes as he gazed at you.

Feeling a rush of desire, you leaned in closer to him, allowing your lips to brush against his. "Nothing," you whispered, before closing the gap between you and giving into the intense chemistry between the two of you. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment. You knew this was wrong, but you couldn't resist the temptation any longer.

As his hand moved from your cheek to your waist, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. His touch was gentle yet possessive, and you couldn't resist the urge to lean into him. He hesitated for a moment, but then his hand slipped under your shirt, sending shivers down your spine as his fingers traced along your bare skin. The butterflies in your stomach only intensified, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what was to come.

You could feel the coolness of his fingers against your skin and you flinched, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Toji's gentle touch allowed your mouth to open just slightly, and Toji took that as an invitation, eagerly pushing his tongue into your mouth. The pleasure was intoxicating and you found yourself moaning in response, losing yourself in the moment.

You knew this was wrong, making out in the hall of your hotel. Anyone could come in at the moment and see you making out with Toji. But for some reason, it sparked excitement in you - the thrill of getting caught reminded you of your teenage years when you would sneak around with him at parties. It was a reminder of the carefree and rebellious nature of youth, and you couldn't help but indulge in the moment. However, you also knew that this behavior was irresponsible and could have consequences, but the temptation was too strong to resist.

"Mm, Toji..." Feeling his hand slide up, you felt a rush of excitement as he reached your breasts. Stopping for a brief moment to ask for your consent, he said, "Can I?" You didn't even have to tell him, you just grabbed him and pulled him into another passionate kiss. Taking that as a yes, he began to gently fondle and caress your breasts, sending shivers of pleasure throughout your body.

It had been a while since someone had made out with you, but it was clear that Toji needed you. Despite being with Satoru most of your life, you had never experienced a makeout session this passionate before. Satoru's kisses were always rough, but Toji's were on another level. They were gentle, yet somehow still intense and rough at the same time. It was as if he couldn't get enough of you.

"We should stop," you said, looking away from him to see if anyone had passed by the hall. "Yeah, we should," but before you could say anything, he squeezed your breast, causing you to look at him. He laughed in a playful manner before kissing you one last time.

You rolled your eyes at him before looking at him with confusion. "Where's Megumi?" you asked. "He's at your sister's house," he replied. "I came here as fast as I could, so I asked if she could watch him."

"Are you serious? you left your soon with a bunch of strangers." you shook your head in disapproval.

"Let's go get him, I need to talk to my sister either way," you hesitently said. Turning around to get your keys out of your purse, you opened your hotel room, with Toji following behind you.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as you watched your son sleeping peacefully. You knew you had to wake him up, but seeing him so content made you hesitate. You couldn't bear to disturb his peaceful slumber, but you also knew you had to stick to the schedule. You gently shook him awake, hoping he wouldn't be too grumpy about it.

"Come on, baby, wake up." You said in a soft tone, gently trying to rouse your child from their slumber.

Sumire awoke from a deep sleep, confused and disoriented as he found himself in a hotel room. He couldn't remember how he got there, but he was suddenly filled with joy when he saw you, his mother, standing by his bedside. "Mommy!" he exclaimed excitedly, relieved to see a familiar face.

Toji stood next to you as you gently picked up your son. "Hey, let me take him for you." You silently thanked him before handing Sumire to him. Without hesitation, Sumire wrapped his tiny hands around Toji's neck and buried his face in the warmth of his embrace. You couldn't help but smile at the sweet bond forming between him and your and son.

As you walked out, you made sure to carefully lock the door behind you before heading to the elevator. Once you reached the lobby, you made your way out to the parking lot, grateful for the car your sister had rented for you. You promised yourself to thank her again when you saw her.

"Can you drive? I want to sit with Sumire," you asked. Toji simply nodded and got into the car. You carefully picked up your son and positioned him comfortably on top of you, holding him tight. You quickly checked your phone to see if you got any messages from when you left.

3 messages from "Sister" 2 messages from "My love ♡" 5 messages from "Toji Zen'in"

Confused as to why you still had Satoru as "My love" you clicked on his contact. Quickly changing it back to "ex-husband." Curious on what he texted you clicked on his message.

Y/N please call me when you see this. Please tell me if you got safe with sumire if you can.

You scoffed seeing his message. You were filled with anger and resentment upon receiving his message. 'How dare he try to act like a caring father now? He should have thought about the consequences of his actions when he decided to cheat and get another girl pregnant.' It was too late for him to try and make amends now.

You hated him so much. You couldn't believe how different Sumire was from his father. His kind and gentle nature was a stark contrast to the man you despised so much. It was almost hard to believe they were related.

"So we get megumi, I talk to my sister and we leave, Okay?" You said.

"That sounds good," Toji said, placing a hand on your thigh before carelessly rubbing it. You realized he was driving with one hand and for some reason it made him look immensely attractive. His confident and nonchalant demeanor while driving added to his charm and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. The way his hand rested on your thigh sent shivers down your spine, making you want him even more.

Toji had a way of making you feel youthful, despite the small age difference between the two of you. Although he was only two years older, being around him made you feel more energized and alive. He had a contagious energy that could make anyone feel young and carefree.

"Toji?" Seeing him turn to look at you, you took in his features. His sharp jawline, dark hair, and piercing dark green eyes took your breath away. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach every time you looked at him. It was no wonder he was the most popular guy in school.

Everyone wanted Toji, even your sister had a major crush on him. She was a freshman when he was a senior. Little did she know you were lucky enough to make out with him the day before he graduated.

"Do you still remember how Highschool was?" With a squeeze on your thigh he began to think.

"Hmm, high school was quite boring actually," he said with a sigh. "Well, except for the fact that I could see you during passing periods," he added with a sly wink in your direction.

"You're dumb." You said, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

"I'm being completely honest with you. I had strong feelings for you, but I was told that you were in a serious relationship with Satoru, so I didn't want to interfere or make things complicated."

You smiled knowing Toji always thought of you in a romantic way, but you also couldn't help but wonder what life would have been like if you had married him instead of Satoru. Would things have been easier or more fulfilling? Would you have avoided the heartbreak and struggles you faced with Satoru?

"We're here," he said, parking the car outside the house. As the music and chatter from outside filled the car, you felt hesitant and unsure if you should actually go in.

"Here, I'll carry Sumire." He said, gently picking up your son and holding him in his arms. You were still getting out of the car, and Toji extended his hand to help you. You gratefully accepted it, feeling a sense of warmth and connection as your fingers interlocked. Together you walked inside the house.

Upon opening the door, you were greeted by Jiyuu, who appeared to have been crying. "Couldn't my day get any better." She said before shoulder checking you and walking out the door. You were in disbelief, she really just said that in front of you. Scoffing you continued to walk towards the patio.

Satoru was frustrated, Jiyuu had ran out and he had to go after her. He began walking to where she had left before stopping in his tracks and seeing you. Toji was holding his son, his baby. He looked at Toji in disgust before his eyes followed to you, seeing that you were holding hands with Toji he chuckled.

Satoru couldn't believe it. After all the trouble Jiyuu had caused, she had just run off and left him to deal with the consequences. And now, to make matters worse, he saw that you were here with Toji, holding hands with him. Satoru couldn't help but feel disgusted and betrayed by both of you. He had always hated Toji, but now it seemed that you were with him. He stood there, unsure of what to do or say next.

All he could do was just walk past you, pretend like he didnt care that you were with another man. He had priorities now, and that was to catch his pregnant lover who had just ran out.

"What a scum." you said

As you walked outside, you noticed a group of people gathered and chatting. Your eyes zeroed in on your sister's fiance, who seemed to be the center of attention. You quickly made your way over.

"Y/N, I'm glad you're safe," he said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Where's Marie?" you asked, scanning the room for any sign of her. However, she was nowhere in sight. You wondered where she could have gone off to and if everything was okay.

"She's in her room, all the bridesmaids are in there," he said, gesturing towards the door before turning to greet Toji and your son.

Looking at Toji, he had just smiled at you and reassured you that it was okay to leave. "It's fine, go ahead. I'll take care of Megumi." His kind gesture put you at ease and you were grateful for his understanding.

You walked to your sister's room, knocking on the door before you were greeted by Utahime. She looked at you with a shocked expression, practically jumping on you. "Y/N! I'm so glad you're okay!" she exclaimed.

Walking inside, you saw all of your friends gathered in the room, with your sister on the bed crying. You immediately felt guilty, knowing that your actions had caused this emotional outburst. Without hesitation, you walked over to her and embraced her in a hug, apologizing for the scene you had made.

"I'm so sorry Marie, I didn't mean to storm off like that," you apologized to your sister, feeling guilty for your outburst. You knew that your sister deserved an explanation for your behavior and you were ready to give her one.

She reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You've been through a lot, but you're here now and that's all that matters," she reassured you with a warm smile. "And I completely understand if you don't want to be a part of my wedding anymore. I love you and everything you have done for me, but I want you to be happy and comfortable with your role in the wedding." You quickly cut her off, reassuring her that her feelings and opinions are important to you.

"Absolutely not, I'm staying for this wedding. Are you kidding me? I wouldn't miss it for anything," you said, hugging her again. You had been looking forward to this special occasion for months, and there was no way you were going to miss it. The thought of not being there to celebrate with your baby sister and witness her happiness was out of the question.

She smiled at you, happy that you were going to be in her wedding. "And as for Jiyuu i want her there too." you said, you're sister looked at you confused.

"Are you sure?" she asked again, concern evident in her voice. "I can take her off if you want," she reassured you, gently squeezing your hand. You could tell she genuinely cared about your well-being and wanted to make sure you were comfortable with the situation.

"No, it's fine, I have to go." you reassured your sister before getting up from the bed and giving her one last hug. "I'll be safe, don't worry. And I'll definitely text you." Your sister smiled and nodded before letting you leave the room. As you walked outside, you saw that Toji was getting along well with your sister's fiancé.

You walked towards him and gently took Megumi from his grasp, feeling grateful for his innocent and loving nature. "Hello, my sweet baby," you cooed in a soft, high-pitched voice. His eyes lit up with excitement and he wrapped his tiny hands around your neck, his pure and genuine love bringing a smile to your face.

"Well we should get going, thank you for everything." You thanked him before grabbing Toji's hand and walking towards the entrance.

Toji was walking with Sumire holding his tiny hand while you carried Megumi. You always wanted another kid. Just so Sumire wouldn't be alone. But having another child was basically impossible since his father was no longer in the picture.

However, as the wedding drew closer, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread and sadness. Going home also meant finalizing your divorce and leaving behind the life you once knew. The impending changes and uncertainty made it difficult to truly enjoy the vacation.

Taglist; @allofffmypeaches @wo-ming-bai @nerdiel-has-no-braincells@creolequeen11210 @doughnuts-eater @narutosagemode@lilith412426 @meojjjsworld @pandoraium @dcvilxswish @cloudsinthecosmos

[voxslays]

Hello! If you’re comfortable, could I request headcanons of a sinner gender neutral reader who’s in a polyamorous relationship with Lucifer and Adam? (Sfw please) Ty for your time, have a good day ^^

ADAMSAPPLE X READER HEADCANNONS

A/N: I am currently having a writing streak, where I just wanna keep writing…

The three of you officially meet in Eden, although you probably knew Lucifer long before the garden. Both of you being dreamers, you were curious about the humans in the mysterious garden. Lucifer probably goes first, just to explore and make sure the garden is safe, when he meets Lillith—and eventually Adam.

Lucifer makes a second trip to see his new friend again, this time bringing you down with him. He introduces you to Lillith, but gets carried away, and you sneak off. You explore the garden by yourself, and eventually stumble upon a human Adam. I can imagine that unlike Lillith, Adam doesn’t take kind to angels because he is jealous of Lucifer and Lillith, however he quickly warms up to you.

I can imagine that you and Adam are talking one day, and out of nowhere Lucifer shows up and says something like “Hello Adam, I see you’ve met MY friend.” He quickly whisks you away back to the ‘safety’ of heaven. Lucifer tells you that he doesn’t like Adam and strongly advises against seeing that ‘neanderthal’ again—even though he was doing the exact same thing with Lillith.

The next time the two of you visit Eden again, he keeps a close eye on you—yet you manage to slip out of his grasp once again, sneaking away to see Adam, who by this point has fallen head over heels in love with you (probably because you are the first person to have ever shown him any interest), and around the same time, Lucifer also figures out he has VERY strong romantic feelings for you. He probably confides in Lillith about what to do, scared of ruining your friendship. (Also I headcannon that Lillith gives very good and wise advice.)

She tells him to talk to Adam to see what he does, since you seem to like him so much, and that’s what he does…after some mild verbal threats of violence against Adam. Meanwhile, you are very conflicted—being in love with both Lucifer’s goofy demeanor and Adam’s sarcasm. You can’t decide which one you like better…

Eventually, when both Adam and Lucifer try to confess their love to you at the same time (only because Lucifer interrupted—thinking he was saving you from a ‘beast’) You tell them you can’t choose between them, and you love them both in different ways—and they both take it as a sort of rejection, but act on it differently. Lucifer is extremely heartbroken, not even finding it in his heart to visit Eden. Meanwhile, Adam is a temperamental mess. Lucifer visits earth one last time to say goodbye to Lillith, but runs into Adam instead. They both talk about how the so called ‘rejection’ has hurt them and come up with a compromise—to share you.

Anyways, the three of you eventually end up dating, Adam and Lucifer actually tolerating and genuinely enjoying eachother’s presence for a while. Until the fall Here’s a fun twist, instead of Lillith falling, you do. Both you and Lucifer are cast into the firey inferno known as hell. You are both heartbroken, especially you, since you’ll never see Adam again. Nevertheless, the two of you quickly adapt to your new surroundings, become the rulers, and eventually have Charlie together.

Anyways, Lucifer is pretty pissed off at Adam trying to kill your daughter, and hurts him pretty badly—but gives him mercy because he knows that’s not only what you would want, but he can’t find it in his heart to kill the man. He is horrified when Niffty stabs Adam—and so are you, as you are probably watching the fight from one of the TV’s in your palace (Lucifer forced you to stay home, physically tying you down.) seeing your ex-lover being murdered live.

Eventually, Adam respawns magically—still in his angel form—but is trapped in hell because of Heaven’s refusal to come get him (or thinking he’s dead). One day, you and Lucifer are taking a walk through your garden (a replica of the Garden of Eden, which you two had spent so much time in eons prior), and find Adam passed out behind one of the bushes, bruised and bloody. *gasp*

After Lucifer uses his powers and Adam heals, the three of you have a family reunion of sorts and live happily ever after in hell…until you have to explain it to Charlie, who is very confused why her parents are now publicly dating the man who actively opposed her redemption plans and tried to kill her and her friends…

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Birdie's Boys

Platonic Stobin + Eddie || wc: 2.3k || rating: G || tags: platonic love, platonic fic, platonic stobie (steddin?), tooth-rotting fluff, humor || Robin's worried the boys have some shenanigans planned for her Spring Band Concert... and she's right

~~~

If Eddie Munson had just watched Steve’s basketball game like a normal person, instead of a nonconformist lunatic, everything would’ve been just fine. Robin really should’ve known better, shouldn’t have been surprised when he showed up carrying a giant sign with Steve’s name and player number on it that read ‘best ball shooter’ with a little devil on it. 

Whenever Steve had the ball, Eddie screamed louder than the most obnoxious dads. At some point, the man pulled a damn kazoo out of his pocket along with those stupid, plastic hand clappers to celebrate Steve’s first three-pointer. 

Everyone was staring, the boys on the bench turning to sneer at him. She could feel the people around them slowly scooching away and her face burned with embarrassment. Finally, after two rounds of the Star Spangled Banner via kazoo, she turned to beg him to sit down only to then catch Steve wave out of the corner of her eye. 

She could see the blush across his face, not from exertion, but from a smile so wide that it glistened in his eyes. Eddie waved, face on fire. Robin gave him a scathing side eye when he’d turned to her and said “What, I just wanted him to notice me,” with a mischievous glint to his smile.

Robin had assumed Steve would be the bigger person and move on. He never said anything after the game, only smiling ear to ear like a puppy dog after doing a particularly impressive trick. However, she greatly underestimated her soulmate’s ability to be an absolute shit head.

Which is how a typically casual Friday night at the Hideout for Eddie’s gig turned out to be exceptionally uncasual and supremely atypical. 

She was clad in head-to-toe pastels. Nancy hadn’t agreed to come to the show, but she allowed Robin to rummage through her closet, fully on board with her and Steve’s shenanigans. Robin had picked out a pair of white heels, lavender stockings, a frilly, pink dress, and– her piece de resistance– a white cowboy hat. 

Steve’s outfit was made up of his own clothes, just taken to new heights. He wore not one, but two polo shirts, the white collar underneath popped up over his pale pink polo on the outside. His acid washed jeans looked tighter than normal, and he’d paired them with shiny, white, Adidas high-tops. Robin had laughed as she dug through his glove box on the ride over, pulling out her favorite electric blue sunglasses for him to wear. They tied the entire outfit together.

Steve had suggested making signs, “In case he can’t hear us when he’s on stage,” and definitely not as payback. All in all, they were pretty impressive. Each one dripped glitter over the sticky bar floor, although the pink puff-paint held together nicely. Robin was particularly proud of her own sign, ‘rock and roll is for sinners and winners’. She was, however, surprised when she read Steve’s ‘I’ve got the devil in me’ sign. They’d made a bit of a spectacle of themselves, waving them high above their heads as they screamed along to the few lyrics they actually knew.

The band razzed Eddie about it, but none of it mattered in the long run. Robin remembers the embarrassed flush scrawled across Eddie’s face when he caught sight of them. He’d strutted across the stage, trying to move as far from them as possible. Much like the small crowd of confused regulars creating a wide, empty space around them. In the end, Eddie always came back, smile wide and genuine and full of love.

So here Robin sits, stewing with anxiety while trying to think of what they’ve got planned now that it’s her turn. She fiddles with the trumpet in her lap as she waits for the Spring Band and Orchestra Concert to start. Her black slacks from last year are uncomfortably tight around her hips, and the white blouse her mom picked out keeps snagging on the back of the too small plastic chair she’s perched on. The garbled mess of voices ringing through the gymnasium matches the zinging swarm of bees in her stomach.

She frantically scans the crowd in front of her, but doesn’t spot them anywhere. Robin’s parents and grandparents are going to be here and she knows the boys will have something obnoxious planned. They’ve been suspiciously nonchalant all week, almost sickeningly nice.

But when the freshman band starts playing, she still can’t find them, surprised they’re not sitting up front. She tries to look around but can’t find them in the crowd. Disappointed, she starts to wonder if they actually forgot. Robin did her best to bring up the concert as little as possible, not wanting to give them time to plan anything extravagant. She wonders now if that was a mistake.

When it’s finally time for the upperclassmen’s turn, she’s forced to give up her search. She plays her melodies, counts her bars, and tries to forget about how her boys aren’t here, knowing there must be a hell of a reason to miss it. 

The brass section dwindles down to the woodwinds. The notes fade out completely, leaving a one beat pause before the flutes are supposed to take off in a frenzy. Robin hates playing songs like this. It feels like a cheap trick, some kind of gimmick her music teacher comes up with to see if he can pull one over on unsuspecting families who think the song has finished. 

It works, like it always does. Soft, scattered applause breaks out in the crowd. Her teacher’s smug smile is wiped from his face as loud, obnoxious clapping echoes off the gymnasium walls. The kids are failing to contain faint giggles and snorts of laughter. Even though this happens almost every year, it’s definitely never this damn dramatic.

Robin sits up just a little bit higher to peek over the winds section and, sure enough, in the dead center of the crowd, there’s a head of frizzy, curly hair standing tall and proud. Aside from the outburst, Robin’s actually impressed Eddie managed to dress up a bit. He’s wearing what has to be one of Steve’s navy button down shirts along with his nicest pair of black skinny jeans, sans rips and holes.

Apparently being in a band doesn’t translate to understanding when a song is actually over. He glances around, red bursting over his cheeks as everyone stares back at him. Robin has to stand slightly to catch a glimpse of Steve sitting next to him. Her best friend is slowly sinking down into his chair in a fruitless attempt to hide. He’s wearing a light blue button up, most likely with his beige slacks. Steve’s flush is somehow an even brighter shade of red than Eddie’s. He’s hiding an awkward laugh behind his fist, and Robin can’t help but smile wide and unguarded at the mirth shining in his eyes. 

These two absolute idiots.

Eddie opens his mouth, but thankfully whatever he’s about to say is cut short by Steve grabbing a hold of his shirt sleeve and yanking him back down into his seat. Robin manages to catch Steve’s eye, and he breaks out into a stupid, adorable puppy-dog grin. He does his signature little finger wave. She snorts, matching his gesture.

Eddie leans in front of Steve’s face to look at her between rows of heads and waves manically back and forth. Robin’s fully laughing now as she waves back. There’s an elbow in her side and before she can snarl at the guy next to her, he nods towards where the conductor stands glaring at her, hands hanging in the air waiting to continue the piece. 

The flutes start up, but it’s still a few bars before her first note. So of course her eyes stray to the clarinets. Vickie’s already looking at her, smiling small but genuine. Beautiful and divine. Vickie rolls her eyes fondly and Robin only replies with a half-hearted shrug. 

The boys manage to make it through the rest of the concert without causing another scene. The conductor prompts the band to rise for a bow, and polite applause breaks out throughout the crowd once more. That’s when she hears it– hell, everyone in the school probably hears it. 

Eddie and Steve wolf whistle at the same time. It’s followed by an eruption of plastic clapper applause and shouts of ‘Go, Buck!’ and ‘Hell yeah that’s my Birdie!’ Robin can’t contain the bubbles of happiness bursting in her chest, leaving her light as air. 

She looks out and sees Steve holding another homemade sign covered in glitter that reads ‘Buckley blows the best horn’. Just as Eddie explodes a confetti popper– what Robin assumes is the first of many he has stashed in his pockets– the principal appears out of thin air to scruff them both by the neck and drag them out into the hallway. She can’t read his lips from this far away, but she can see Eddie yapping away, completely unbothered. 

Fuck, Robin truly loves these boys. Her goons, her dinguses, her schmucks.

The band leaves through the side door, heading straight to the music room to store their instruments before meeting their loved ones in the cafeteria. 

“Hey,” Vickie says, out of breath from jogging to catch up, “you did a really good job.” Robin doesn’t think Vickie could specifically pick her out from the rest of trumpets–at least hopefully not– but she takes the compliment anyway. 

“Thanks,” she shouts, a little too excited. And in typical Robin fashion, has zero follow up comments. So they walk down the hall together in silence, students around them buzzing with excitement. 

Vickie clears her throat, and bumps her shoulder against Robin’s. “It’s really nice your boyfriend came to watch you play.” Vickie sighs, deflating, “Wish mine had, anyways.” 

Robin doesn’t even process Vickie’s second statement before screeching, “I’m not dating Eddie Munson! We’re just friends.” 

“Oh,” Vickie smiles, emerald eyes wide and beautiful at Robin’s little outburst, “I guess I meant Steve Harrington. Everyone knows you’re dating. And, I mean, I see you two together in the morning sometimes– not that I’m stalking you or anything,” but her adorable stumbling doesn’t matter in the face of Robin’s blatant disgust. 

“Ugh gross absolutely not, he’s like my brother. My dingus, my very platonic soulmate. Like a long-lost twin separated at birth kind of thing, but also way more annoying.” 

“Oh good,” Vickie answers. Her eyes grow large, mouth falling open in shock as she stutters, “I’m sorry, I mean… It's not good. But it’s not, not good. You know?” 

Robin actually doesn’t know, so she just smiles, bumping shoulders again because the spot where their shoulders touched before is still tingling and she wants more. Vickie relaxes next to her. They’re quiet after that, but it’s a good quiet, filled with stolen glances and hidden smiles. It’s not until they’re both headed back towards the cafeteria when Robin finally realizes what Vickie said. 

“I’m sorry your boyfriend couldn’t make it,” Robin placates, hopefully drawing up enough of a fake smile to make it seem real. She does feel bad for Vickie, but she’s not sad about it. 

Vickie pulls her lips between her teeth into a thin, angry line. She groans in annoyance, and it’s the most Robin’s ever seen her complain, almost always a bubbly ray of sunshine. It reminds her of when Steve gets bitchy, and she love it. “He could’ve made it if he actually wanted to be here,” she huffs. “Apparently going to a party with his friends is a better way to spend his Saturday night.” 

Robin’s eyebrows are raised when Vickie turns to look at her, causing her to scoff out a laugh. “I know, I shouldn’t complain,” Vickie says, obviously not meaning a single word, “but the person you’re dating is supposed to watch your crappy, high school band concert, right?” 

Person. 

Vickie didn’t say boyfriend, she said ‘person’ you’re dating. It probably doesn’t mean anything… definitely, for sure doesn’t. It still doesn’t stop Robin from blushing like one of the hundreds of women Steve hits on every day at work. Fuck, she’s no better than one of Harrington’s bimbos. 

“They should definitely be here.” Robin smiles at her sympathetically, and Vickie thanks her before they walk into the noisy cafeteria. “I’ll see you Monday?” Vickie asks, heading off to visit her family. Robin nods, feeling the dark blush blossom on her cheeks as Vickie smiles, eyes shining with delight.

Robin finally spots her own family, and it’s standard procedure. Congratulations from her parents, telling her ‘Nice job’ and ‘You all sounded so good’ but it’s the comment from her grandmother, whispered in her ear in a tight hug, which catches her off guard.

“Your boy’s waiting for you,” she nods over Robin’s shoulder. She turns to find Steve grinning his dopey I love you smile at her. It’s her favorite, something special just for her. Lost in her soulmate’s gaze, her grandma gives Robin a soft elbow to the stomach to grab her attention. “I think you found yourself a good one.”

And honestly, Robin can’t find it in herself to spout her usual arguments of ‘he’s not my boy,’ because Steve is hers. He’ll always be hers just like she’ll always be his. They still love each other, still plan to spend the rest of their lives together. It’s just not the kind of love most people expect. 

It’s a kind of love that’s theirs, and theirs alone. 

Well, and Eddie’s too, of course.

Robin smiles back at her grandmother, a wet sheen to her eyes. “Yeah, I really did, didn’t I?”

[inkk-tv]

[ ꜰᴏᴏᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘᴜʙ ɢᴏʟꜰ : ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ]

Chris plants his forehead on the table, taking a deep breath as he watches the astro turf. He’s well gone, but Lucy and Arthur, who is now just drawing shapes on the inside of her forearm, aren’t much better off. “You two are going to bankrupt me.”

“We’ll put the fund towards a muzzle.” Lucy says off handedly, swiping the marker, and Arthur’s hand to draw a three-by-three grid on his skin. 

in which: Chris attempts to not have another life crisis during a pub golf video and is failing miserably.

3.7k words [ part one ] [ masterlist ] [ part three ]

[oc x arthurtv x chrismd]

[warnings: Excessive drinking, sexual innuendos and light sexual content]

Chris is torn. 

Logically, he knows football pub golf is a content gold mine. It could easily be one of the best videos of the year, especially with the team line ups. On the other hand, the last time Chris filmed a pub golf for Chip's channel some eight months ago, it ended with him so fucked he'd uprooted his entire life twenty four hours later.

Mid to late twenties was not a good time to have a sexuality crisis - and Chris speaks from experience. Why it took 11 drinks and joking that he'd shag his best mate for space hopper-ing over a bollard to realise he genuinely wanted to snog him silly, Chris isn't sure.

In retrospect, he'd probably fancied Arthur way back in sixth form, sitting with him in every class, dragging the poor bloke to join his football team. The biting should have been a hint. 'Cuteness aggression', as a session of hungover googling informed him, is horribly common. Chris was so torn up about it all that he talks it over with Shannon the night after, when he's not sure if the urge to vomit is from nerves, guilt or the hangover.

He tries to tell her that it doesn't have to change things, that he still loves her. But she still calls it off.

He can't really be mad at her for that, so it's amicable. The two of them weren't built to last much longer anyway; if marriage was in the cards, Shannon wouldn't get snippy anytime her mother brought it up and Chris wouldn't feel nauseous every time he saw an advert for rings. If they were destined for 'forever', talk of marriage wouldn't sound like an expiration date.

Chris spends a couple of months sorting out all his shit and takes a long hard look at his own feelings.

Everyone is sort of weird about the break-up. For a while they all sort of act like it's temporary. Once he puts out a statement though, his friends take that as confirmation that it's actually over. Arthur -Hill not TV- and George take him out drinking a few times as self declared experts in heartbreak and the single life. Their ventures have the three of them planning to move in together when their leases expire in October. Harry corrals him onto a few dating apps and Chris humours him because how is he supposed to tell the guy that women are the last thing on his mind and that he's head over heels (and possibly in love with) one of their mates, who is noticeably a bloke.

At least this time the pub golf is for his channel, so if there's another earth-shattering life crisis, he can edit it out at the least. Save himself the embarrassment of seeing the clip every few weeks on TikTok. Luckily, Chris is not the kind of man who loses all impulse control when faced with a couple of pints.

He is admittedly two shots up already and they've only just settled at hole four. If anything's going to set their team back, it's this. Chris knows the moment he sees Jamie, his production assistant, walk out with a tray of wine-glasses all of which were bordering on over-filled with rosé. 

"Oh god," Lucy groans, her head pitching forwards to thud onto the table. Jamie just smiles as he places the three glasses around the halo of blonde hair. Her next complaint comes out muffled. "Why wine? I can't do wine."

"Come on, Luce." Chris grabs her shoulders to drag her back up straight, shaking them a few times for good measure. "Where's all that team spirit gone?"

"Come on En-ga-land, Score some fucking goals." She quotes, putting on the thick northern accent for it.

Seeing as Chris is a little too far gone to keep explaining the rules at each pub without hurling insults at his friends, Jamie's the one who does it this round, citing that each drink must be fed by a teammate.

"I got a great trick for this one," There's a bit of a slur to Arthur's words, but that could just be him and not the alcohol. Then again, he did do a shot when they got to the pub ‘for fun’ which will most definitely bite them in the arse. "We hold hands and squeeze depending on ho-"

Arthur hiccups halfway through his sentence and it's enough to get a snort out of Chris and devolve Lucy into giggles as he continues. " -how, how much you want."

Chris goes first, and Arthur’s hand is warm in his own as he pours the wine into his mouth. 

Although, when it’s Arthur’s turn and Lucy grabs the wine glass off the table, she frowns. “You’re too tall for this.”

There's not that much of a gap between them with her heels factored in but it's enough that to get her arm up and angle the glass right, it would certainly be uncomfortable for Lucy.

“Come on, tip toes surely.” Arthur says, but she’s already got a hand on his shoulder.

“On your knees, Television.” She says it so calmly, pressing lightly on his shoulder- not enough to push Arthur down, Chris knows he’s stronger than he looks, but he goes anyway.

Something that’s horribly aroused stirs in Chris’s stomach, watching Arthur drop to his knees in front of Lucy, mouth open as she leans down just slightly to press the glass against his lips. He grips her wrist instead of her hand and swallows every mouthful of pretty pink rosé so eagerly that there’s evidence of it left on her skin, little crescent indented where his nails had dug in.

It’s awfully sobering to realise that Chris might actually have to fight a semi while filming.

There’s been jokes about it, in the past few years as his content has matured along with his audience and those sorts of comments were left in the final cut. But Christ, watching Arthur lick his lips clean of wine, not even moving to stand until Lucy pulls him to his feet by the hand, that’s enough to make anyone sexually attracted to men a little off kilter. 

He’s never really had the ‘awkward boners’ at least not since his teenage years. Chris is pretty sure it’s something to do with the messy ball of crossed wires that is his sexuality, the fact he never really gets a hard on for someone he’s not head over heels for but he’s not really put much time into untangling that.

Although, he might need to do that soon. 

Something about the way Arthur looks at her, as if from the moment she put her hand on him, she was everything- the centre of his universe. 

Not that Chris can really blame him. Lucy’s always been captivating like that. He’s not a moron, Lucy’s attractive, objectively. She’s cute, green eyes, light tan to her skin that’s more from sunshine than genetics, and blonde hair that's half pulled back with a white ribbon, a couple strands falling in front of her face. Round cheeks that push up towards her eyes when she smiles, a little tip up to the end of her nose. She’s got the kind of features that would make Chris pause on those stupid dating apps he only swipes though when Harry’s looking over his shoulder. 

Arthur yields so easily for her, blinking at her with those brown eyes and chewing his bottom lip a little, hands still messily entwined together as Harry makes a poor sex joke. 

It’s an orbit that Chris has watched many men tumble into before, the gravitational pull of Lucy Bell. There’s something about the way she carries herself, a confidence that makes eyes drawn to her. On night outs, there’s mixed reactions. George and Arthur Hill love it, girls are more than happy to chat and linger at their table, eased in the risk of approaching a bunch of men in a club by the presence of a woman like Lucy. 

He thinks about all the dickheads he’s seen try and fail to make a pass on her, as Chris picks up the final glass of rosé.

Lucy has, and will continue to, drink Chris under the table, but she is under or just about five foot six. And There's only so many miracles a liver that size can facilitate. Maybe she’s a little further finished than he thought, because when he holds the wine glass up to her, and clasps their palms together, she just isn’t taking it like she was earlier.

“Come on Luce, down in one.” He murmurs, “You got it.”

A little dribble of it runs down her chin and into the curve of her throat, but no one calls her on it and Lucy is left gagging on the taste of rosé that she’d downed. She’s squeezing his hands tight as she recoils and pulls a face. Chris rubs her back and gives it a couple of pats as she leans into his side. “I hate rosé.”

Arthur reappears with three glasses of water, precariously balanced in his hands and he deposits one in front of each of them. It’s the best drink Chris has been given all day and he can’t help the words that slip out. “Oh my god I love you.”

No one blinks at it though, not Arthur, not Chris. He’s said it before, there’s no reason for anyone to think it means anything more than it used to. 

Lucy doesn’t bat an eye, just gives Arthur this awfully soft look before guzzling down half the glass in one go. Until Stephen drops a balled up napkin on the floor and kicks it between her feet, nutmegging her.

Honestly, Chris had sort of forgotten about writing that rule into the video and he sort of feels bad now. Lucy’s probably going to be the only victim of it for the afternoon, because everyone else is far enough gone that they’re a little fuzzy on the rules too.

She and Stephen do shots of baby guinness together (because apparently he just wanted to?) and Chris has to stare into his water glass, tracing patterns on the condensation with his thumb so he doesn’t stare at Arthur and imagine him at the foot of his bed, on his knees for Chris. Complacent and content. 

Chris kind of wants to curl in on himself. 

Beside him, Arthur’s hand slips down from Chris’ shoulder and along his back, stepping around both him and Lucy, hand slipping to her waist and along the curve of it as he ducks back inside the pub. 

There’s jeers from the German team and Cal follows Arthur inside to make sure he’s not chundering in the bathroom. 

“Chris, I’m not gonna lie,” Lucy leans into whisper, “I don’t think I’ll be standing by the end of this video.”

She looks utterly gone. Her eyes are wide, and there’s a little sheen to the column of her neck, maybe from the wine she’d dribbled or the haste to skull the water she was handed. This close, he can see the lines of her makeup, where the eyeliner is a little shaky right at her lash line and the few eyelashes that are clumpy with mascara.

It’s the drunkest he’s seen her in a while, and she’s probably only one drink off of ‘cartwheel Lucy’- the stage of intoxication where she feels the urge to display her impressive coordination that she, annoyingly, never loses no matter how much alcohol she’s ingested.

Chris tips his head forwards and bites her deltoid. Teeth sinking softly into the fabric of her jersey until he can just feel the solidness of her shoulder underneath. Lucy startels, a little, whines then swats at Chris until he retreats half a step.

She looks at the bite mark on her pristine England Jersey, wiping at Chris’ spit as she scoffs and scrunches her nose up a little. "I’m going to catch diseases off you at this rate.”

There’s about half a second where he considers making an STD joke, but there’s a camera sitting on them and it feels a little disrespectful to suggest something like that. 

Lucy frowns down at the black line on the inside of her wrist. “Where’s Arthur, I need a tally mark.”

And the man of the hour is dragged from the Pub’s entrance, clinging to Cal, looking significantly more gone than he had five minutes ago. The wine must have been hitting hard. 

Supposedly, there was no puke, but for the antics Arthur received a red card, putting the English team even further down the hole they’re stuck in. It doesn’t help that the other team all get their drinks down in one.

Not that Chris was really paying attention, he was too busy watching Arthur poke at Cal, enjoying pressing his buttons. 

“How many holes do we have left?” He asks once he’s settled back into his stool.

Chris snorts. “Me after five drinks on a saturday night, am I right?”

Arthur holds his hand up for a high five, but Chris has his arms crossed and his brain is working a little slow to catch it before the palm is descending into a playful smack on his face. He grabs Arthur's hand with both of his and licks a fat stripe up his palm, tongue feeling the roughness of calluses from the gym and the faint taste of beer. 

The reaction is immediate. “Noooo!”

Arthur recoils and wipes his hand of spit on Chris’ jersey. 

Lord, Chris must be so much further gone than he thought, because he just devolves into giggles, even after fully licking his best mate’s hand. It’s only when Jess, his production manager, starts herding them down the footpath to the next pub that Chris finally gets a handle on his giggles. 

Somehow, when they make it to Pub number five, everyone- including his own employees- goads Chris into climbing the tree opposite it. Which earns them two points deducted, so they’ve almost worked off the red card from Arthur’s endeavours with a toilet bowl at the second pub.

The Vodka Oranges are, mercifully, only one standard drink. Although, Lucy’s still looking a little queasy at the prospect of downing it. “I hope this doesn’t have pulp.”

Arthur frowns and holds his drink up in the light to get a better look. “I don’t think so.”

“If there’s pulp I might actually throw up. I can’t do the texture.”

“Can’t say I’m a big fan either.” The downwards tilt of Arthur’s lips is painfully cute and Chris kind of wants to lean over and bite at him, but he’s not supposed to be doing that today. Instead he huddles them closer together, like was in the plan for pub five and they have their half-time strategy meeting. 

“If either of you puke, I swear to god I will never forgive you.” Chris says, focusing very hard on not slurring his words. “We can’t lose to Stephen Tries. He already carries this channel enough.”

“Come on- I’ve done plenty.” Arthur complains. “I got Harry three shots deeper.” 

Admittedly, an impressive feat, but it’s still about thirty less shots than Harry WroeToShaw needs to start feeling the effects of Alcohol and far from enough to recover from all the penalty points he’s been earning. Chris tuts “Only one of us has climbed a tree so I really think that you guys need to step up to the plate at this point.”

The pair just stare at him, and for a moment, Chris sort of loses the plot in Arthur’s eyes. “You’ve got very nice eyes.”

They are. A nice dark brown that sort of looks like pots of honey, mesmerising while Chris blinks into them, with a sort of depth that makes it impossibly easy to sink into them. He’s better at it now, remembering to look away, but the alcohol’s got him a little slower to catch it.

“Christ, they are nice eyes.” Lucy agrees leaning in to get a better look at Arthur, who’s blushing a little from the attention, then towards Chris. “You’ve got good eyes too.”

Arthur nods eagerly. “He does have lovely eyes.”

“Lucy, your eyes are great.” Chris pivots, hoping to save his brain from malfunctioning, onto Lucy, planting a hand on her shoulder to lean in close and study her eyes. 

They’re more green than blue, wide as she processes how close he’s gotten to her. He’s heard people say the grass is greener on the other side, but looking at Lucy’s eyes, it might just be true. It’s almost like staring at the overgrown grass of his childhood football pitch, some streaks a little darker than others, and the underlying feeling that there’s something to be found there, if one cared to look a little deeper than surface level. 

“Oh, they are.” Arthur agrees, squinting a little as he peers at her. 

All three of them have completely lost the whole ‘strategy meeting’ plot that was supposed to be their halftime regroup and by the time Chris untangles himself from their eyes, it’s time to down the vodka oranges that have been sweating condensation down their wrists.

Cal corrals both teams into a cheers and miraculously, everyone manages to get it down in one. 

Thankfully, they’d figured people would be a bit gone by pub five, so a nice lengthy walk proceeds pub six.

Chris just about hangs off Arthur the whole time, who at first is a little distracted by texting George Clarkey in an attempt to convey how ‘sober’ he is, but eventually slings his arm over Chris’ shoulder and lets him stay there. He tries to not stir things, lest he be shoved away, instead basking in the bloody amazing smell of Arthur cologne as it mixes with his deodorant. Chris couldn’t name what either of them smell like, but it’s a scent that’s so uniquely Arthur he wouldn’t be able to associate it with anything else.

“George says he’s gonna come pick me up from the last pub.” He declares, shoving his phone into Chris’ face. It’s a little too close to read, but he squints and tries anyway. Arthur only gives him a few seconds before pulling the screen back and pocketing it. 

At one point in their walk, Chris bites at his wrist where it hangs next to his face but it’s not enough to chase him off. 

“Next pub golf, it’s twenty quid per bite.” Arthur grimaces, whipping the back of his hand of spit down the front of Chris’ jersey. “Lucy had the right idea.”

“I think you owe her a tally mark. Maybe.” Chris frowns, trying to recall if they’d added the last nip. 

“Luce!” He calls. “Did we add the last tally? From Pub four with the rosé?”

She’s about ten meters ahead, tangled up with Stephen as he tries to wrangle her into some kind of hug or headlock, it’s a little unclear which. For a moment the pair of them freeze, and Lucy does that little frown and nose scrunch she does whenever she thinks particularly hard on something. “No!”

Then she kicks Stephen’s sneaker and he bowles over, caught off guard. 

“Yellow card! Yellow card!” Arthur shouts, pointing so obnoxiously that Chris almost wants to tell him it’s rude. “Ref, that’s diving!”

Cal dishes out a Yellow card and Stephen goes back to trying to deck Lucy, via bowling her knees out from under her. But by the time they make it to pub six, he’s managed to weasel a piggy back out of her and the two of them pause by the gate to point out where ‘live music: ChrisMD Diss-Track cover band’ is written in neat print of the blackboard. 

The two of them are gone, and it’s probably lucky that Lucy isn’t the kind of drunk that gets clumsy, otherwise the two of them would never have managed to make it through the beer garden benches without knocking into one. Arthur isn’t as lucky, knocking his shin against one on his way over to the tables his production team has claimed. 

“Ow.” He whines as Chris gets his hands on Arthur’s shoulders, shaking him until they’re at the seats and he’s shoving him off in fake annoyance. “Get off you leach.”

He digs the pen out of his shorts pocket, and bites the cap off, keeping it wedged between his teeth as he calls out to Lucy. Her name comes out muffled around the cap but she deposits Stephen and collapses next to Arthur, who grabs her wrist. There’s an awful lot of concentration on his face for something as simple as drawing a line. 

Chris plants his forehead on the table, taking a deep breath as he watches the astro turf. He’s well gone, but Lucy and Arthur, who is now just drawing shapes on the inside of her forearm, aren’t much better off. “You two are going to bankrupt me.”

“We’ll put the fund towards a muzzle.” Lucy says off handedly, swiping the marker, and Arthur’s hand to draw a three-by-three grid on his skin. 

They fall into their own little bubble as they start up a series of naughts and crosses games. Chris has to kick them under the table to gain their attention when Cal starts explaining the pub-quiz rules. The aim was to guess the cocktail themed pun based on the footballer’s name. 

Chris wasn’t expecting greatness to begin with. He knows his footballers, but Arthur and Lucy don’t really know them by name and face- unless they play for the teams they support. There’s a much higher chance of a Man United player showing up than a Brighton player, so Lucy might be completely out of her depth. 

They manage to break even only because the German team are shouting out the footballer’s names and failing to relate it back to a cocktail, so the three of them can steal the point out from under them By the end of it, they’re left with a martini, a strawberry daiquiri and a rum punch. 

Chris gets the easy way out and is handed the martini, Lucy recoils once she finishes her rum punch, a shiver racking her spine and Arthur struggles to drink his daiquiri that is filled with ice, though a piss-weak paper straw. 

But it’s down in one for all of them, even the other team.

As he hauls himself to his feet, the gin hits him like a truck. Enough that he stumbles half a step back. Chris knows, as he catches the worried look his production team are giving him, that his hope of ending the afternoon without puking, was a lost cause. 

[ part one ] [ masterlist ] [ part three ]

ink note: part two! poor christopher's got it bad. this is our last chris chapter for a while, so pray for the poor lad.

[ if you would like to be added to the fic's tag list, let me know in an ask and you'll be tagged when each chapter goes up :) ]

[ozzgin]

I love your work! It is so hard to find good Baki writers. Could you please do a Yujiro x Female fighter reader. I feel like Yujiro would actually start falling head over heels with a reader who fights well and is as sadistic as him.

Thank you! And yes, realistically speaking - or at least what makes most sense in my opinion - Yuujirou would go for someone that not only is submissive to him (because any human would then suffice), but also shows impressive skill and strength. There’s an interesting idea that I once read in the introduction of “The Gates of Janus”, the book written by serial killer Ian Brady. The foreword author argued that Ian is what you’d call a rat king, an alpha above most alphas, and that for such personalities, most of the time, an equally dominant woman is sought for as a partner. Naturally she’d submit to him still, but only a woman of high dominance could keep up with this kind of intense character. This mentality felt a bit outdated and potentially misogynistic to me, but I think it really fits in the case of Yuujirou. Sorry for the ramble.

Yandere! Yuujirou Hanma x Fighter! Reader

Featuring The Ogre and a female reader that nearly matches him in strength and ruthlessness. TW: Dubious consent, violence.

[Baki Masterlist]

Yuujirou can have anyone in the world, whether man or woman. It’s not up to them, really. It’s up to his mood and whims. And when he can have just about anyone, actually finding someone worth his interest becomes a difficult task. He doesn’t need an extra weight to drag around and as far as he’s concerned, commitment is not something he requires in his life. What would be the point?

No, for someone of his status, commitment doesn’t come as moral etiquette or requirement for a relationship. He has considered it, and in theory it could only be offered out of his genuine interest and never demanded by someone else. For The Ogre himself to fixate on one person and never wander eyes anywhere else… They would really have to impress him. Guarantee him that this is a one time deal never to be found again. And once that person is found, they’d do well to perform their role as his partner because there is no way out of it.

Lamentably, such temptation has never crossed his path. That is until a feminine figure strides into the ring of the Underground Arena. Yuujirou is ready to burst with laughter, but he’s quickly silenced by the rather abrupt end of the match. The mysterious character remains unfazed by the opponent’s blow and uses the opportunity to swiftly twist and crush the offensive limb. With the same indifference plastered on the face throughout the agonizing wails of the much larger man, she delivers her ending move and within seconds the arena is quiet again. After recollecting himself from this unexpected succession, Yuujirou turns to Strydum that’s been watching with similar amazement. “Who the hell is that?” He grunts. “I don’t know. Should I find out?”

Sometimes Yuujirou will replay the encounter in his head. He still gets shivers of raw excitement whenever he remembers your eyes back then. That utterly defiant glare. Strydum had asked you to meet them in private and as you entered the room, you immediately demanded to know why you’d been summoned. The Colonel begun fumbling in terror, almost begging you indirectly to not upset the redheaded man. “M-Mr. Hanma wished to see you, Miss (Y/N)-“ he was interrupted by your resounding snarl. “And who the fuck is Mr. Hanma to afford such audacity?” At that moment Yuujirou stood up, hands in pockets but visibly tensed up. You instinctively clenched your fists and frowned at the unspoken difference in power. The Ogre was halfway expecting you to fold and apologize, but after a minute your expression relaxed and your confidence returned. “Bitch. You’d rather die than give up your pride, huh?” He smirked at the thought. There was something about your attitude that greatly pissed him off but also turned him on at the same time.

The hardest part is getting you to accept him as your partner. See, Yuujirou will never beg or ask nicely. On the other hand, he’d rather not kill you, and severely damaging you in any way would take away the fun that caught his attention in the first place. That’s the dilemma: you’re stubborn and he can’t use force. Then again it’s not like he’s a mindless brute. Quite the opposite, only if he feels like it. A little charm with a dash of intimidation and you should be convinced, right? Don’t push it, (Y/N). If he really has to choose, he’d rather have you dead than belonging to someone else. It’s either him or nothing.

Really, it’s to your advantage if you learn to behave. He can give you everything you desire. He’s rather experienced in spoiling his women, and for you he’ll go the extra mile. Knowing he tamed you of all people is all the payment he could ever ask for. The satisfaction of putting you in your place, of having you cling to him fills him with greedy pride. A cocky smile distorts his features whenever the realization hits. If there’s such a thing as a soulmate, he’s found his. Although he doesn’t believe in that kind of bullshit.

A frightening pair in the eyes of most people. The Ogre relishes in the fact that displaying you as his woman has further increased his reputation instead of signaling any trace of weakness. As the time passes his conviction only strengthens: there’s no other place for you. You’re all his. Yet his favorite detail, what makes him flushed and dazed and addicted, is that no matter what he does to you as you lay there sprawled, naked, broken, your dignity never leaves. That prideful gaze that leers back at him makes him feel like he’s facing a mirror.

[taintandviolent]

A Real Man ; Jimmy Darling x reader

summary: Reader is a married to a chump. A real chump who doesn't know what he's got and as far as Jimmy Darling is concerned, reader needs to be treated right for once.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.6k! | married female reader, infidelity, brief usage of Y/N, judgemental language, fingering, dry humping, arousal, kissing/making out, slight angst with the fact that Jimmy can't keep every woman he meets.

a/n: requested by @babygorewhore! this was supposed to be a drabble, but it turned into a 3K fic. sorry, sorry, sorry! as always, sorry if this is horrible!!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Jimmy peeked through the gap in the curtain -- it was almost a full house. Good. Elsa would be pleased, and when she was pleased, she was less likely to nitpick; something that all of the troupe tried to avoid.

His dark eyes spotted you heading towards the front, a giddy skip in your step. Your beauty took his breath away; he was almost disappointed to see a man following close behind you as you searched for a place to sit. Judging by your body language, Jimmy could tell you were excited. A small smile crawled across his lips as he watched you. He loved when pretty girls were excited for the show – made his performance that much better. You briefly made eye contact, and a small, shy smile curved around your red lips. Jimmy looked to the front row, and you followed his gaze. Your eyes lit up and you turned to your husband, pointing in the direction of the front.

"Let's sit -- ow!"

Roger gripped your bicep, yanking you hard backwards, away from the decision you'd made. Jimmy furrowed his brow and squared his shoulders, ready to put a man in his place if he had to. His fists balled up into fleshy wads; he didn’t like what he was seeing. Ain’t no reason for a woman to be treated like that…  

"I don't want us sitting too close to them. Might catch something." he snarled, towing you towards some empty wooden chairs in the third row. A horrible sensation roiled in your stomach, making you nauseous. Suddenly ashamed to even be with a man with that kind of mindset, you couldn't help but scowl at your husband's sour opinion. Embarrassed, you kept your gaze away from the man behind the curtain, hoping he hadn't seen or heard any of that.

"Roger," you said softly, reprimanding him in the nicest way you could. "They aren't sick, they're just different."

A hush fell over the crowd as you settled into your seats and a bearded woman came out, welcoming everyone to the show. Much to your dismay, your husband was immediately disgusted and continued making snide comments under his breath.

Not brave enough to say it aloud , you thought. Coward.

As the show got started, it was easy to forget about Roger's little comments. You happily engulfed yourself in the wonderful acts that they put on, particularly delighted by all the musical performances. Not only were they putting their disabilities and differences on display for the world to see and judge – which was admirable in and of itself – but they were genuinely a very talented troupe.

After the show ended, Roger, who had scowled and crossed his arms the entire time, was the first to exit, shoving his way past people, muttering angrily as he did. Apologizing to the offended individuals he left in his wake, you ducked underneath the tent flap, heading after him.

"Makes me sick, that was a waste of time. Freaks like that oughta' be put outta' their misery."

You clenched your teeth, pressing your purse tightly to your abdomen as you walked. You'd just about had it with his disparaging commentary, and that comment was the final straw. Taking a deep breath, you dug your heels into the dirt, stopping yourself. "How DARE you!"

"Excuse me?!" Roger spun around, his expression a terrifying mixture of anger and surprise. He'd never heard you yell like that. It made him angrier than he was before, and he charged at you like an animal, ready to strike.

You righted yourself, standing your ground. In reality, there was nothing to be gained from defending these people, but something in your stomach told you that you had to. You narrowed your eyes as you continued, taking one step away from him.

"They're people too, just like you and me!" Your voice was shrill and determined.

"No! They ain't!" He stuck his finger in your face, nearly jabbing it into your nose. Roger's rebuttal was filled with so much venom, it made you reel back with a gasp. He'd always been an abrasive sort, but this wasn't the man you married.

Jimmy and Paul were helping move some of the set pieces off the stage when Del abruptly straightened up, cocking an ear towards the entrance. The hollering continued, and could be heard from inside the tent. “You hear that?” 

“Sure do,” Paul said. Jimmy nodded in agreement. A couple arguing was never a good sign, and usually something that needed to be dealt with quickly. Jimmy’s heart sank; he had a pretty good idea of who it was. They all hurried towards the entrance, and as soon as Jimmy lifted the flap of the tent, he spotted you.

You stamped your foot, causing a cloud of dust to float up around your heels. "That's a wretched thing to say, and you know it! You're being so hateful, Roger!"

He gestured to the men behind you as they approached. "Well, if you're so fond of 'em, maybe you oughta' run away and join 'em! Suits me just fine!"

And with that, he stomped off, headed towards the car. With anxiety bubbling up your throat, you ran after him, calling his name. He either didn't hear you or didn't care, because he didn't turn around. You suspected it was the latter.

As the car lurched forward onto the road, the engine revved and the tires spun, spitting gravel and dust back at you. For a moment, you ran down the dirt pathway, trying to catch up to him. It was futile, but the humiliation drove you forward. You couldn't even look back at the men, unsure if they had seen everything.

You'd made it out onto the main road, but Roger's car was out of view. Out of breath, you finally stopped, huffing a defeated breath. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. What were you to do? You looked down the road, there were some buildings up ahead. Surely, one of them had a phone. As much as it hurt your ego, you knew the only option was to walk and call Roger at home, and apologize for whatever you'd done.

Back at the field, Jimmy was fuming. He'd seen you take off, running after the car desperately, and watched as the distance between you two grew.

“I’ll get her,” he volunteered, already jogging off towards his bike. Del scoffed, unsurprised and rolled his eyes. Of course Jimmy would be the one to go find her.

As he headed for his trailer, Jimmy's temper flared. He resented the way that your boyfriend, husband, whoever he was, had shucked you off like you were nothing. Not to mention, the way he'd treated you in the show, right in front of everyone. That wasn’t right. And he wasn’t gonna’ stand for it. Part of him hoped that he'd get the chance to talk to this Roger fellow.

With tears streaming down your rouged cheeks, you ambled down the road, heading in the direction that he'd gone. Your husband had never done anything like that before, and you weren’t sure what to do next. He’d left you stranded. All because you’d opened your big, sympathetic mouth and tried to defend the freaks from his senseless hate. You'd only just gotten to the top of the hill when you heard the low rumble of an engine slowing behind you. Great. Just what you needed - someone to harass you further.

“Hey, sweetheart. You alright?” Jimmy raised his voice over the growl of his motorcycle. Despite that, there was genuine concern in his voice as he crept closer to you, approaching you apprehensively like he would a scared animal.  

Turning your head to meet the voice, you swallowed back a sob, and straightened up, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. “Y-yes, I'm just fine, thank you.”

Jimmy was next to you now, and you got a good look at his face. It was the man from the show, the one that you'd seen peeking out from behind the curtains. The Lobster Boy. You stopped walking, and his bike rolled to a stop next to you.

"You sure about that?" He asked, leaning forward on the handlebars.

You looked over at him, your lower lip trembling like a child. He just had to show you some kindness, some warmth in that moment, and that, regrettably, brought the tears back. They spilled over your cheeks, flowing freely. Jimmy reached forward and swept his gloved thumb over your cheek, wicking away the tears that tumbled over. “Baby, baby… you’re too pretty to cry that way, you know that?” 

You sniffled pitifully. Bright, wet eyes lifted from the road to his suntanned face. He was so warm, so sweet… like some fresh cotton candy from the stand by the ferris wheel. The wind rustled through the bright, green leaves and you heaved a sigh.

“It’s just that my husband… he-he...” You sniffled loudly, and wiped another set of tears away.

“Hey-hey. Shh. It’s okay, dollface. I saw what happened back there. You don't gotta' relive it. Tell you what. Why don't you hop on?"

"Oh, no I couldn't... I... should get home."

Jimmy shook his head lightly, knowing that home was the last place you wanted to be.

"Sweetheart, what's your name?"

"Y/N..." you said quietly.

"Y/N, listen. It ain't right for a man to leave a woman like that..."

You knew it. Roger hadn't been right that entire afternoon, from the comments to him leaving you. He'd been out of line the entire time, and it infuriated you, doubled you up in anger, though you didn’t show. "Mr. Darling," You started, recalling his name from the show.

"Jimmy." He interjected.

"Jimmy," you started again, chewing on the corner of your lip. "I appreciate the offer, but I just... I can't..."

"Sure you can." His voice was low and sweet, like honey as it filled your ears. "Does he take care of you?"

Taken aback by the question, you furrowed your brows, silently asking what he meant. Jimmy cleared his throat and straightened up on his bike, casually brushing something from the thigh of his jeans.

"What I mean is, does he treat you right? Take care of your needs...?"

You swallowed hard, averting your gaze. That was all the confirmation he needed. Jimmy kicked down the stand of his bike, and got off of it, closing in the distance between the two of you.

“Babydoll,” Jimmy started, leaning closer to you. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, his eyes sweeping over your face. You were unbelievable, one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen – and he’d seen some. The closeness had his heart thumping and his groin flushed with heat. He hadn't intended for this, but something about the way you looked up at him with those big, ol' pretty eyes had his head spinning.

Jimmy lifted your chin with his knuckle. "Get on my bike, and lemme' show you how a real man treats a woman."

Oh, live a little, you thought. Your husband was nowhere to be found, and he was the one who had left you. Whatever repercussions occurred because of that were out of your control. It was decided. Adjusting your purse on your shoulder, you stepped to Jimmy's bike, and carefully got on. Jimmy joined you with a proud smile, and revved the engine.

Looking both ways, Jimmy made a wide turn, getting you both pointed back in the direction of the tents. The wind whistled through your hair, locks fluttering behind you. You squeezed Jimmy's torso tighter as he sped up, heading back down the road. He smelled like cotton, sweat and sun. You nuzzled your face into his back, living in the moment. Jimmy smiled, knowingly.

The ride was short, but exhilarating. You'd never ridden on a motorcycle, and the memory was something you'd cherish. You held onto his broad, toned shoulders, steadying yourself as he pulled into the field; the bumps of the dirt road jostling you about. He pulled up behind his caravan, killed the engine and hopped off. He grinned brightly at you, his large, gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, off you go." 

He lifted you carefully off the bike as you swung your leg over the seat. Your heel caught on the edge, sending you stumbling into his arms. The closeness was abrupt, but very welcome. Your breath hitched in your throat. 

"Easy - you alright?" 

"Just clumsy," you murmured, putting enough distance between your bodies to smooth out the skirt of your dress.

With one hand, Jimmy guided you up the small steps of his trailer, holding the door open for you.

A flash of worry crossed his face as he took off his gloves, setting them on the kitchen counter. He saw your eyes dart down to his hands, scanning over the fleshy, conjoined digits, but there was a hint of intrigue in your eyes - you weren't put off. That was enough for him to make a move.

"C'mere, baby. Let me take care of you."

Without another word, Jimmy wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest. His lips connected with yours in a warm kiss - warm like the summer sun. Everything about him was intoxicating and you were drunk on him, lust-blown and wanting more. Boldly, his fingers closed around the zipper pull of your dress and pulled it carefully down your back, pressing his lips against your shoulder as he slid the sleeve down. His fingertips trailed softly down your spine, sending a chill through your body. He guided the dress off your body, allowing it to fall to your feet. You stepped out of the circle of fabric, and wrapped your arms around his neck. With strong, passionate kisses, he walked you backwards through the trailer, carefully navigating you to the back portion where the bedroom was. You were thankful he was in control, because you felt yourself wobble, dizzy with lust. The back of your legs finally hit the edge of the mattress, and Jimmy guided you backwards, until you were laying flat. 

Perched at the end of his bed, he reached forward to touch you. You bit your lip, looking shy and unsure. You’d never been in your lingerie in front of any other man besides your husband, and your heart thudded against your ribcage at the thought of what you were about to experience.  Jimmy's large, warm hands explored your flesh, covering every exposed inch in gentle, persuasive touches. You'd already wordlessly agreed to whatever he was doing, but every touch pushed you further over that edge, turning you into putty in his hands. You exhaled a shaky breath, watching him as he worked. His fingers swept past your ankles, up your calves and finally over the curve of your knees, where he gently spread them apart.

"My husband never does this..." You cooed, nervously. You weren't sure how to act, but you hoped natural instinct would kick in soon.

"I know." was all Jimmy said before dipping his head between your legs. He pressed kisses along your inner thighs, nearing your aching center. The closer he got, the more you writhed in his grip. Pressing a single kiss against your stomach, his teeth grazed your tummy as he took the elastic waistband of your panties between his teeth, pulling them down. His fingers met halfway, and pulled them to your ankles, where he tenderly guided your feet out of the holes.

You were on full display now and your tummy clenched. Perhaps she clenched too, because Jimmy swallowed back a deep groan, his eyes rolling back slightly. The sight of a woman, wet and waiting for him, never got old. Ever. Jimmy crawled up onto the bed, positioning himself at your side. His cock ached desperately, twitching to life, but it wasn't about him. Your pleasure was the focus, and he could wait. With all his experience at Tupperware parties, he'd gotten real good at keeping his arousal at bay until he was alone.

Above you, Jimmy’s brown eyes searched your face, flashing you a bright smile."You alright, baby?"

You nodded, spreading your legs slightly. One of his hands trailed along your stomach, softly caressing the skin as he made his way down. Breath hitching in your throat again, you unintentionally arched your back up into his touch. His fingertips met your core, and his thumb swept over your folds, spreading them gently. He explored them sweetly, taking his time to play with the slickness that met him.

"You like that?" 

You mewled in response, eyes rolling back in your head. 

"C'mon, lemme hear you... nothin' to be embarrassed of here." 

No words came out, but a pleading, satisfied moan tumbled off your lips. You thought his act was singing and showing off his claws -- not reading minds. You were never loud with your husband; he found it obnoxious when women were too loud.

With that, Jimmy slipped into you slowly, taking his time to breach your entrance.You gasped, eyes wide and glued to the ceiling. You gripped his arms, steadying yourself as you adjusted, widening your legs a little more. The girth of his fingers stunned you, you'd never felt so full, even with your husband. They immediately curved up to hit the spongy, sensitive flesh, massaging it while his thumb circled your clit.

He may have conditioned himself into not pleasuring himself while he was giving his all to a woman, but your wanton moans and whimpers... hell... you were makin' it so hard . He clenched his jaw, watching you as your sweet, lush hips rolled back and forth to meet his fingers each time he withdrew them.

Each breath was a moan, and you couldn't stop them, the euphoria that you felt was too much. You were a perfect picture of arousal; cheeks flushed, hair mussed up and flayed out on his pillowcase, back arched, and hips undulating to meet his touch. Jimmy was used to women during pleasure, but something about the way you whimpered his name had gotten him worked up.

His cock was rock hard, tenting against his old, softened jeans. Jimmy ground his hips once against your hip, forcing friction and testing your reaction. The slick wet spot on his boxers shifted, and he let loose a throaty, low sound. He couldn't take it anymore.

Thankfully, you let out a pleased sound of surprise, and whispered: "Do that again..."

You begged him for more, your nails leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his biceps. The way he touched you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and certainly nothing that your husband had ever done for you. Jimmy pushed his fingers deeper, thrusting them in and out and coating them with your slick.

Jimmy groaned, your candy-sweet voice filled his ears and his caravan. His hips rutted against you again, finding a pleasurable rhythm that stroked his shaft as he moved. He would've given anything to have been inside you. He fucked you faster, and your tight, warm cunt squeezed around his fingers. His hips jerked abruptly, pressing his cock hard into your side. The sensations were too much, you couldn’t hold back any longer. 

"Jimmy, I'm gonna'... I feel like I'm.... oh god."

Your legs tensed and then began quivering as your orgasm washed over you, your jaw dropping in a high-pitched moan. You pulsed around his fingers as you came, saying his name over and over again.

Jimmy felt the tightness of his own orgasm approaching, withdrew his fingers, and climbed on top of you, hurriedly. With one hand, he undid his jeans and pulled his throbbing cock free from his boxers. “Sorry, baby… I need to feel you.” The fat, scarlet tip leaked pre-cum onto you as he ground it against your cunt, slipping in between the warm folds. You dropped your head against the pillow again, whimpering at how sensitive you’d become – the friction of his cock on your clit was making you see stars. Jimmy’s hips lost their rhythm abruptly, stuttering as he emptied himself all over your stomach, white ropes of cum decorating the soft flesh.

After taking his undershirt off to clean up the mess he’d made, Jimmy laid with you, stroking your collarbone tenderly. You fell asleep on his small bed, wrapping yourself in the warm cotton sheets. As your lids drifted shut, you thought not of Roger, but of cotton candy, warm and melting on your tongue where the taste of Jimmy Darling still lingered.

~

The sun was setting when Jimmy finally emerged from his trailer, wearing a button down shirt and jeans. As he headed back towards the main tent, someone called his name.

"Jimmy," Eve sighed, leaning against the side of her caravan. "You can't keep breaking hearts like that."

Pausing, Jimmy shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged her statement off. "Who said I broke her heart? That girl needed to know what it felt like."

Eve knew what he meant and in a way, Jimmy was doing these women a service. He was treating them how they all ought to be treated, and she couldn't argue with that. She stepped down onto the grass, closing in the distance between them.

"We're leaving in a week, sweetheart. You know you're going to have to take her home tomorrow." Eve felt like a mother telling her kid that they couldn't keep an animal they'd found. She frowned slightly, reaching out to squeeze Jimmy's shoulder.

"Yeah... yeah, I know."

He chuckled, exhaling through his nose, his gaze falling. He liberated women. Sure, maybe a few tears were shed, a couple marriages shattered in the process, but you can't make an omelette without cracking a few eggs. Jimmy showed women how they were supposed to be treated, how they were supposed to feel every night and once they got the Lobster Boy special, they never settled again. He hoped you wouldn't, either.

You deserved that.

[astermath]

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: robin falls head over heels for the cool girl renting horror movies at family video. steve can’t believe her awkward shyness is actually landing her a date, but he’s happy for her nonetheless.

word count: idk kinda short lol under 1K

notes: just wanted to write a little blurb, then it turned into something else, so enjoy this short little meet cute with robin ♡

normal sized font below!

Robin really is that love at first sight kinda girl.

She’s the type of girl to be busy sorting tapes at family video, when you walk in, all pretty femininity and mysterious aura around you. And suddenly she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She doesn’t know where she is, why she’s there, hell, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell you her name if she asked.

She doesn’t stop staring at you, not when you enter and not when you walk over to the horror section to pick something out. Only when Steve nudges her in her side, she snaps out of it, looking more flustered than ever.

“Dude, can you not?”

“Sorry man, it just— looked like you were falling asleep with your eyes open! What’s with you anyways?”

Robin doesn’t respond, simply averting her eyes to the cash register and hoping Steve doesn’t pry any further.

Which would have worked, if you weren’t talking to her right now.

“I’m sorry, can I—“

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, you can…” Robin trails off, realising she hasn’t even let you finish your request. Her own eagerness embarrasses her to no end, her face heating up and her cheeks now closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

To her surprise, you giggle. You’re not awkward about it at all, which somehow makes her fall for you even harder.

“I was gonna ask what the latest time would be when I’d be able to return this.” you smile, and the blonde girl is certain it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“Oh! Yeah, totally, no problem! It’s uh— a great choice, by the way. I love friday the 13th, sooo good, all that horror stuff, a huge fan—“

“A week.” Steve interrupts her rambling.

“Huh?” Robin turns to her friend.

“To answer her question, since you’re too busy being head over heels over here.”

You chuckle again, and Robin genuinely thinks her head is going to explode. Not only is her best friend making fun of her in front of you, but you’re not even making her feel bad about it. It’s like you find it cute or something. How crazy is that?

“Cool, I’ll just uh,” you hold up the tape, “rent this one then.”

Robin rings you up, her hands moving faster than her mind, and she hopes you don’t notice the slight shakiness in them. It’s not every day the prettiest girl in the whole world shows up at her job, so she’s not exactly prepared.

“Thanks,” you take the tape from her along with the receipt, your fingers touching slightly when she slides them over. Now you’re the one who’s getting the butterflies.

“So, you said you were a fan of horror movies?”

Robin nods enthusiastically, while Steve has to bite his tongue to hold back from saying that that’s the biggest lie ever. Robin isn’t a coward, not at all, but she’s the worst at scary movies. She’s just saying all this to impress you. She doubts it’s working though.

“Well, I was gonna watch this alone, but…” you grab a pen off the counter and scribble down your number on the receipt. “If you feel like watching it together, give me a call…” you pause to read her name tag. “Robin.” You smile again. “Nice name.”

“T-Thanks! You uh, you too!”

“Thanks, even though I… Haven’t told you yet.” You write your name down next to the number. “Now you know.”

“Huh…” She reads it over, not being able to keep herself from smiling like she’s sunshine incarnate. “That is a really nice name though.”

You grin, grabbing the tape off the counter and stuffing it in your bag. “Well, Robin, I’m free this Friday, if you wanna take me up on the offer.” You start walking backwards and give her a quick wave. “See y’around.”

She waves back, although more hesitant. Frankly, she’s still processing the entire encounter, and the fact that you’re real. Someone as beautiful as you exists, talked to her, even gave her your number. She didn’t know a reality like that was possible.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Steve scoffs in disbelief, though he’s pretty stoked for Robin all in all. He wants his friend to find her special person as much as he does for himself.

“Yeah,” she stares as you walk off, “me too.”

The freckled girl groans loudly and drops her head into her hands. “Why the fuck did I say any of that? Why do I always just keep talking?”

“I don’t see the big deal Buckley,” her coworker leans against the counter, “you got your date, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but then what? Then what do I do? I might have been able to charm her with my awkward idiocy this time, but what if we watch the movie and she finds out I’m a huge wuss!” She gestures around wildly with her hands, earning a confused stare from one of the older customers.

“This is going to sound so stupid, and I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he runs his hand through his brown locks, “but just like, be yourself? She seems nice enough, I’m sure she won’t judge you for being a total scaredy cat.”

“Not helping, Harrington.” She gives him a defeated look.

“Sorry, you know what I mean.”

“But what if she does?”

“What?”

“What if she does judge me? I mean jesus Steve, I wouldn’t blame her! She’s like— way out of my coolness league! She’s practically doing charity work watching a movie with me.”

Steve scoffs. “Don’t sell yourself short, Buckley, you’re plenty cool. Besides, if she does judge you, then clearly she’s not worth it. But again, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, already picturing her holding onto you in fear of a completely fictional serial killer. “I guess you’re right.” She goes quiet for a moment, before she’s back to daydreaming about the whole scenario. The two of you on your couch, shoulders touching, maybe an arm around her, hands brushing when you reach for the popcorn, all that sappy stuff…

“Buckley?”

Maybe you’d find it cute that she gets scared. Maybe you’d wanna protect her. She gets that vibe from you, that you’d keep her safe from all the Freddy Kruegers and Jason Voorhees of the world.

“Robin!”

Steve snaps her out of her daydreaming, gesturing towards Keith who’s about to enter the store.

“You two organise those tapes like I asked you to?” Their manager isn’t even looking at them, struggling with putting away his car keys.

Robin swipes the tapes off the counter and stuffs them randomly into the two boxes. That’s a problem for later.

“Yup! All sorted! Good thing I love organising stuff!” She laughs awkwardly, and Steve is fighting for his life trying not to laugh.

She’s got bigger things to worry about right now. Like what to wear for her date with you. And what kind of snacks you like to eat with your movies. And how she’s going to explain that the scariest thing she can handle is Frankenweenie.

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[bigassmoonchild]

this may have been in my head for a few days

but

everyone thinking simons in charge in the household and that hes the one to tell off the kids and everything but they find out that no hes the laid back parent and the head of the household is this 5 foot 8 woman who ends up keeping the boys in line and simons just there smirking at them for thinking he was the bossy one

i keep saying i love the ideas you guys have, but you all are honestly doing so good with these (keep them coming, i'll try to actually answer my inbox when i don't feel like dogwater <3)

you'd bugged and pestered and fought simon for nearly two weeks before he'd finally allowed you to invite the 141 for dinner. 'i just want to meet your other family, si,' you whispered to him one night. 'just wanna know the people who are saving your ass,' and he huffed and nudged you.

after weeks of fighting with him, the taskforce was finally allowed into his home. 'what d'ye think his missus is like?' soap nudged gaz, snickering from the backseat. they were all buckled up, as simon was driving them because he knew the way home. price had made sure they'd buckled up.

'i dunno,' gaz answered simply. 'she's gotta be a beast to be able to deal with the lieutenant,' he added. soap shrugged, gave a noncommittal noise.

'feel like l.t is the one running the house. he's got the military training, after all,' and simon had to stop himself from laughing. him? running the house? that you took care of when he was away? and the kids, who were sometimes the literal spawn of satan? it was funny. genuinely.

and as he pulled up the driveway, he watched as you came onto the front porch. a nice little sundress, one he especially loved on you, and some little kitten heels. christ, he'd have a hard time keeping away from you today.

parking the car, he opened the door and was the first one to greet you. pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, and allowing you to greet everyone. price gave you a soft handshake, thanking you for inviting them all over. soap, the bastard, pressed a kiss to the top of your hand. your eyes rolled, a little smile forming on your face.

gaz gave you a little wave, smiling softly. he was always rather quiet, but from what simon had told you he'd warm up. you invited them all in, sliding your heels off before stepping fully into the house. simon followed suit, pulling his boots off as price followed his lead.

soap, on the other hand, tried to walk on your freshly cleaned floors. you stopped sharply, staring the man down. 'if you get mud on my clean floors i will wipe it clean with you,' and he blinked at you. there was a few little giggles from upstairs, and you gave simon a little gesture upstairs.

'i can get you guys something to drink? water, maybe some whiskey?' you asked, waiting to move until gaz and soap had both taken their boots off. gaz shook his head, muttering something about being okay.

'water is fine for us, ma'am,' price spoke for him and soap. there were more little whispers and hushed whines coming from upstairs. soap peaked up the stairs, but they turned just at the top so he couldn't see what was happening.

you gestured to the living room around you. 'please, make yourselves at home. simons home is yours, afterall,' and they thanked you. simon had come back down, helping you hand waters off to the others. a few little footsteps came from upstairs, and two little girls appeared there.

'i tried to tell them that the makeup wouldn't work today, lovie,' simon whispered, just loud enough for soap to hear. he turned to see bright pink blush spread across their faces, some lipstick spread halfway to their chins. they watched you take a deep breath.

it was silent for a moment, a little smile coming from you. 'how did you get into my makeup?' and neither of them answered. 'while it is quite pretty, i'm sure our company would much rather see your pretty faces without anything,' and they stood there for a moment.

you stared at the two kids, who looked at their feet. simon stifled a little laugh as the 141 turned to look at him. 'upstairs,' you told them. 'clean that off, make yourselves presentable and come back down when you're ready,' you spoke calmly. they huffed a little, heard a hum from you and hustled on upstairs.

for some time, the group of you spoke. you'd talked about how simon had reacted in the hospital room ('christ, john, he actually passed out. full on, and the nurses just left him there,') and the group cackled.

simon had taken to helping you plenty, keeping the kids humored enough to not begin complaining, refilling drinks and helping set the table.

'sam, honey,' simon spoke up. 'please don't play with your food, if you don't want to eat it, that's okay. we should save it if not,' and she gave a little huffed whine.

'but daaaad,' she complained. 'there's nothing else to do,' and the group watched as you looked to said girl.

sam looked down at the food, dropping the fork. 'sam, apologize to your father,' and soap found himself stifling a laugh. a little girl, apologizing to the big, bad ghost? she did it, rather unhappily, but perked her voice up after you gave another look.

outside of that, dinner went quite well. the other little girl, sara, had kept to her manners. simon took to taking them to get ready for bed while you cleaned dishes with the help of soap.

'diddnae think that you'd be the one to be uptight with the kids,' he spoke softly. price and gaz were in the other room, helping to clean up the living area. 'thought it would've been simon doing all a' that,' you gave a little laugh.

shaking your head, you handed him another plate to dry. 'no, he's the cool parent. he doesn't have to take care of the kids early during school. he gets lucky, they're real bastards when they want to be,' and you gave a fond little laugh. 'love them to death, believe me, but they really take after their father,' and soap laughed with you.

christ, the 141 hadn't been expecting this at all, but it was different seeing their lieutenant be the relaxed person. it was nice, honestly. seeing him finally relax fully in the comfort of his little family.

'don't tell him i told you, but there's another on the way,' you whispered into soaps ear and he spun to look at you, surprise etched on his face.

[lovecomedy]

If you need any convincing that Noel and Liam Gallagher are incestuous freaks (affectionate), here's the basic information you need

First of all. The kisses

Loch Lomond kiss, where they just... made out on stage in front of cameras. Cool. There's a gif with every photo from every angle.

Another kiss, this time in Japan. Here's the actual video.

And here's the same video but together with nice quotes from their 2016 documentary:

Here's a 2005 award event where they kiss again and also look quite in love

And here's Liam straight up groping Noel during concerts:

General stage antics and more groping:

Just one more groping

Ok. Let's talk about the music, then

Oasis has a song that Noel wrote called "My Sister Lover". The title speaks for itself, really. It includes amazing lyrics such as "You're my lover, I'm your brother"

But there's more! Noel used the same chorus of this song (with different lyrics) for a song he released in his solo album, 20 years later. It's called "Lock All the Doors". The very first line says: "She wore a star-shaped tambourine, prettiest girl I’d ever seen". And guess... guess who famously played a star-shaped tambourine? Liam! And Noel was the one that gifted him the fucking tambourine!!

Liam wrote a song for Oasis called Guess God Thinks I'm Abel

I'll just link everything that's been said about this song, because it really is batshit insane that this song exists

(It's common in the north of England to refer to things and people as "our". When either Liam or Noel say "our kid", they're talking about each other)

Liam has the tendency of thinking every song Noel writes is about him, including the love songs

Here he says "I'm his muse", along with some other interesting quotes

Ok, now we're on to suspicious quotes!

They had sex last night, according to Liam

This one is my favorite:

Of course this one is just all the weird quotes jammed in one post, you can feel yourself going crazy as you read it

Noel assures us that Liam knows about his arse

Other people confirming that they act like a couple. And them being fucking weird about each other’s marriages.

This one has Noel saying Liam is deeply in love with him. At the bottom, Liam's tweet.

Actually Liam always tweets things that basically confirm they're relationship. Like when somebody asked him if he ever rimmed Noel. Yeah.

This radio interview is where the most lovely quotes come from. Only Noel was supposed to be interviewed but then they both showed up PISSED DRUNK. Transcription in the same post

Even More weird quotes

This one involves the word impregnate

Noel making a suspicious comment about his daughter and son, Anais and Donovan

I think to be convinced you really just need that, but I'd like to add some niceties.

Just genuinely enjoying each other’s company

This is from the Oasis; 10 Minutes Of Noise and Confusion documentary. As Noel is kissing Liam's cheek, Liam is saying "He’s a fucking cunt and I hate him and I love him and he twists my melon, man. He’s the best songwriter in the fucking world.”

Some sweet quotes, and some less sweet ones as well

From the Supersonic documentary

Hugging after playing football

Just being silly

To finish off, two wonderful video edits with endearing moments