#in my story in my head she has to cut it short for some reason and it’s a shocker to everyone who’s only ever knew her with long hair

[catboyelimgarak]

Self indulgent shit like OCs for a story in my head

[gothcsz]

Body Language | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 2 to this bad boy right here | ~8.2k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Caught in a charged and unexpected moment with Javier Peña, you struggle between resisting his relentless seduction and giving in to the tension that has been building since the last shoot.

Tags: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, no use of Y/N, reader is shorter than javier but other than that no physical descriptions, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (we're in an elevator this time around), reader really doesn't like javi, steve being steve, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then my ass had to drag it out just a little because their dynamic is very fun to write 😭 he's like whyyy don't you like me and she's like how much time do you have? lmfao. this is dedicated to @auteurdelabre 🖤 #1 pornstar javi stan, i almost submitted this for your trope off but decided to save that honor for my other story! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy javier begging to eat you out 🥂 let me know what you think 🖤 mandatory mutual tags: @almostempty / @miss-oranje-disco-dancer

You sit in the cramped waiting room outside of Robbie’s office, the stale air clinging to your skin as you shift uncomfortably in the worn-out chair. The place is too quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the city outdoors.

You glance at the clock on the wall, anxiety creeping up your spine. You have a shift at the bar in an hour, and time is slipping through your fingers. The laundry, the groceries, the endless list of errands— it all piled up today, and now you’re cutting it too close.

But you need this check. It’s the only reason you’re here, tapping your foot in impatience. If you don’t get it today, the money won’t hit your account in time to cover rent, and you really don’t want another lecture from your landlord. It’s bad enough you’re already behind— no need to give him more ammunition to chew you out.

You sigh and lean back, eyes closing as you try to drown out the frustration swirling in your head. That’s when you hear the unmistakable ding of the elevator down the hall and turn your head to see who’s joining.

Your stomach drops and you sit up straight. No. Not now. The air feels heavier, thick with that familiar irritation, as the slow, deliberate sound of boots against the tile grows louder. 

Javier Peña.

Just the thought of him sends a hot wave through your being, a mix of irritation and something else you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t want to think about that last shoot, the one where things shifted. Where shit got weird. You behind the camera, filming as always, while he was balls deep in another woman, claiming you were on his mind.

“Bet you’d look just as pretty like this, nena.”

“Did you like what you saw? Like watching the way I fucked her but was thinking of you the whole time?”

It was like he’d stripped you bare with just a few words, leaving you more exposed than them in the midst of their carnal fucking. And the worst part? You’d been affected by it. Skin on fire, pussy wet. It also didn’t help that Steve had heard it too. The mic catching the flirting, the hitch of your breath getting stuck in your throat, clear as day.

He’d asked you about it later at Lucky’s, as promised, all smug and drinking that God-awful beer. But you’d brushed him off, hoping he’d drop it. Thankfully, he had— for the most part— but you could still feel his restlessness, wanting to stir the pot.

Now, Javier is here, of course, because the universe just loves to mess with you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning back against the chair in defiance. You refuse to look at him. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he gets under your skin. 

His footsteps stop just a few feet away, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore. You can feel him looking at you, feel the weight of his brown eyes like a physical thing as they rake over your body.

You keep your gaze glued to the wall, focusing on the ugly, generic painting hanging there like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You gonna act like you don’t see me?” His voice is deep, smooth, and frustratingly cocky, just like always. 

You grit your teeth, biting back a response. You won’t give him an inch. Not again. This motherfucker will take a mile.

“Okay, so that’s what we’re doing.” Before you can react, he plops down beside you. You stiffen immediately, moving your crossed knees to the side, angling yourself away from him, as if the few inches of space will protect you from the onslaught of whatever the hell he’s about to say next.

He spreads his thighs wide, his posture screaming obnoxious confidence. You just barely catch a glimpse of his bulge pressing up against his left thigh and how the fuck does it look so big even when he’s soft? “You know,” he says, voice dripping with that lazy, arrogant drawl, “you’re the only woman that treats me like this, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”

You snort, the sound sharp and humorless. You still don’t bother looking at him.

Javier frowns, flitting his tongue across the top row of his teeth. “Is it because I came off too strong the first time we met? ‘Cause if that’s the case; then I’m sorry. Can’t help myself from flirting with pretty little things like you.”

You roll your eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets. He doesn’t sound sincere at all.

Thing is, you didn’t mind the flirting. Even if he, like he’s so romantically put it, does flirt with pretty little things all the time; it did make you feel like just that. Pretty. It’s what came after that soured your Javier Peña experience.

He huffs, like a petulant child, frustrated by your silence. You don’t give him the satisfaction of even a glance. Instead, you shift in your seat, your mind racing, wondering what the hell is taking Robbie so damn long. He never works, barely lifts a finger unless there’s money or something else in it for him, and now, suddenly, he’s busy? Yeah, right. He’s probably in his office jerking it to one of his films, getting off on his own work. Typical.

You’re done waiting. With a sharp movement, you stand, startling Javier, though you still don’t give him the time of day. He’s used to women catering to his every whim, hanging on his every word. You aren’t going to be one of them. Not even if he did manage to get you all hot and bothered.

You stalk over to the door and knock harder than necessary. “I’m busy,” his voice grumbles through the wooden surface, and you resist the urge to scream.

“And I need my check. Just slide it under the door or something,” you snap, the urgency in your voice making it clear that you’re not in the mood to get fucked around with.

There’s a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling papers before the door cracks open just enough for Robbie to stick his hand out, an envelope clutched between his fingers. He practically shoves it into your hand before slamming the door shut again.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the envelope with your name scrawled across the front. Surrounded by imbeciles. Just one shift to get through tonight, and then maybe, just maybe, you can get some peace. Enjoy the first weekend off you’ve had in months.

Now that you have what you came for, you spin on your heel and stride down the hallway, ignoring the handsome pornstar still lounging in the chair behind you. From your peripheral, you can see him sitting there, skinny jean clad legs spread, looking all annoyingly sexy without even trying. It would be so much easier if he were ugly— or literally anyone else. But no, it’s Javier fucking Peña, with his ridiculous good looks and that cocky smirk that could probably charm the panties off half the city if he wanted to (it probably has, to be honest).

You mentally map out the next hour: hit the bank, dash home to change, then off to work. You could walk to the bank, maybe catch a taxi home if you’re lucky. But with traffic in this city, luck isn’t really on your side. You start considering your options— do you skip changing and just head to work as you are? Would your other boss even care if you showed up a little underdressed? You’re so lost in your thoughts, focused on cutting corners to save time, that you don’t hear the quiet footsteps behind you.

It’s not until the elevator dings and you step inside that you realize you’re not alone. Javier’s slipped in just before the doors close, sliding smoothly into the cramped space beside you. The sudden proximity makes your heart do this stupid little jump, and you curse yourself for it. You’re trapped now— stuck way too close to him in the tiny metal box.

The air feels charged, his presence impossible to ignore yet again. The smell of his aftershave hits you first— spicy, with a hint of something woodsy, layered under the scent of his leather jacket and the faint, lingering whiff of cigarette smoke. He tries to drown it out with minty gum, but it’s still there, clinging to him like an old habit. And damn it, your knees go a little weak, despite your best efforts to stay cool.

The height difference between you is glaringly obvious now. You’re eye level with the habitually open portion of his cream colored shirt, the buttons undone just enough to give a peek at his brown chest. It’s frustrating how effortlessly he pulls off the whole rugged look— like he doesn’t even try, but somehow manages to look better than most men who spend hours on it.

You swallow hard, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you can smell him, that you can feel the heat radiating off his body in the tight space. He’s just too close, and the damn elevator isn’t moving fast enough. You’ve got a million things to worry about right now—rent, work, your life— and the last thing you need is to be distracted by him.

But, like always, he’s right there, invading your space, making it impossible to think of anything else.

“What the fuck do you want?” You snap, breaking your vow of silence. You frown up at him, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface as you cross your arms defensively over your chest— a bad move, you realize too late, as the motion only pushes your braless tits together beneath the thin fabric of your tank top.

Predictably, his eyes drop immediately. You curse yourself for not wearing something more substantial. It’s not like I was planning to run into him today, you think to yourself.

“To understand why you hate me so much,” Javier says, his voice low, carrying that annoyingly casual tone, as if this whole conversation is nothing more than a mild inconvenience to him.

Your brows knit together, and a dry laugh slips from your lips before you can stop it. “Well, for starters,” you bite out, “you can’t even look me in the eyes when you ask.” 

His gaze snaps up so fast it’s almost comical, his dark eyes locking with yours, defiance flaring there. But there’s something else too— something that makes the air between you even more tense. You hold his stare, daring him to say something, to make this worse for himself. His expression tightens, but you continue before he has a chance to speak. “And I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. You annoy the shit out of me.” 

He flinches, just barely, but you catch it. The smallest chink in his armor. You reach around him, your hand brushing against his side as you press the button for the main floor. The contact sends a ripple of awareness through you that you try to ignore. You don’t have time for this— for him.

Javier scowls, his mouth pulling into a frown that mirrors yours, and before you can react, he half-turns and punches a button for a different floor, effectively canceling your request. The elevator jolts, shifting direction. 

You groan audibly, exasperation washing over you. “And here you are, proving my point,” you mutter under your breath. Every second you waste in this shitty elevator with him is another second closer to being late for work. Another second closer to not getting everything done that you needed to today. He’s not just in your way—he’s deliberately in your way, and the worst part is, he knows it.

“You don’t like me,” he counters, turning back to face you fully, his tone edging into frustration, “but you never even gave me a chance.” His jaw is set now, his eyes searching yours as if he’s waiting for you to crack, to admit that there’s more to it than just annoyance. Like he wants you to say it’s something else, something deeper.

If you had the luxury of time, you’d lay it all out for him, explain in excruciating detail just why you’ve avoided giving him that chance. How his arrogance grates on you. How his charm, though admittedly effective, feels hollow. How the way he flirts isn’t even the problem—it’s the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t want to admit.

But you don’t have that kind of time.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. “As fun as it’d be to stand here and explain this shit to you like a child,” you say, your voice tight, “I have important things to do, and you’re keeping me from them.” You jab the elevator button again, hoping the damn thing will just go where you need it to without another unnecessary detour, but you already know it’s a losing battle. 

Javier shifts closer, just slightly, his presence looming. You can smell that damn aftershave again, all spice and leather and smoke, and it only pisses you off more because your body reacts to it before your brain can stop it. You feel your resolve slipping, just a little. His eyes are on you, unwavering, intense in a way that makes you want to both slap him and pull him closer at the same time.

“I’m not trying to keep you from anything,” he replies, softer now, the edge in his voice gone. His tone is almost... apologetic? No. It can’t be. Javier Peña doesn’t apologize. At least not in any way that feels real.

You don’t even bother responding, just stare at the numbers above the door, willing them to move faster. The sooner you’re out of here, the better.

“Just—fuck, give me something. Anything,” he growls, frustrated as all hell. His eyes are wild, and you can see the cracks in his usual suave demeanor, like he’s barely holding it together. “Ever since that last shoot, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and I don’t know why. You think you’re exasperated? How the fuck do you think I’m feeling over here?”

You raise a brow, leaning into your disdain as you pout at him mockingly. “Oh, boohoo. Cry me a river. A girl doesn’t like me back, wahh.” You mimic the sound of a crying baby, bringing your fists up to rub against your cheeks in the most exaggerated way possible. Then you drop the act, face deadpanning. 

His eyes narrow, and you think you’ve finally hit a nerve. Good. Let him stew in it. But instead of backing down, he does something you don’t expect— he turns, reaches out, and slams his palm against the emergency stop button. The elevator lurches to a sudden halt, the hum of motion disappearing as the car freezes between floors.

Your eyes widen, a sharp spike of adrenaline shooting through you as the reality of the situation sets in. “What the hell, Javier?” You’re about to cuss him out, to let him know exactly what kind of shit he’s just gotten himself into, but before the words can leave your mouth, he takes two long, purposeful steps toward you.

Instinctively, you move back, the sudden intensity in his eyes sending warning signals through your brain. But there’s nowhere to go. You can’t escape the tight confines of the elevator, your back is pressed up against the cold metal railing. You swallow hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as his broad body looms over yours, trapping you in a way that leaves you feeling both furious and breathless.

He’s too close. His chest brushes against yours, and you can feel his gaze as it drags over your face, down your neck, and lower still, lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle.

Any insult you were ready to hurl at him gets stuck in your throat. You hate how your pulse quickens, how your breath catches. You can feel every inch of him— solid muscle, tense with whatever storm is brewing behind those dark eyes. 

For a brief, dizzying moment, you forget to be mad. You forget that you’re supposed to dislike him, that he’s the last person you should let get under your skin like this but somehow is the only one who’s able to. All you can focus on is the way his breath fans across your cheek, the way the small space between you crackles with tension, like a wire pulled too tight.

“You think this is some kind of joke?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, making your pussy tingle in ways you wish it didn’t. “You think it’s easy for me to just... shrug it off? Because it’s not. Not when I keep thinking about you, and I don’t even fucking understand why.”

There’s something raw in his voice, something that catches you off guard, making you pause to wonder if this really isn’t a game to him.

But you can’t let him see that. You can’t let him know how much he’s getting to you (even though he’s more than aware). So instead, you tilt your chin up defiantly, forcing your voice to stay steady. “And stopping the elevator? Trapping me in here with you? That’s your brilliant solution?”

“No,” he breathes, voice dropping to a near whisper as his face inches closer to yours. “But it’s the only way I could get you to stop running from me.” 

You hate how your stomach flips at his words. Hate how much you’re fighting against the instinct to lean into him instead of shoving him away. Every part of your body is screaming at you to tell him to fuck off and leave you the hell alone.

“Do you know what I think it is?” The words come out in a low, dangerous drawl, the kind that seems to wrap around your throat and squeeze. He leans in, crowding your space, eyes boring into you with an intensity that has your pulse skyrocketing. “I think you’re too fucking stubborn to let yourself have any fun. The idea of me fucking you is enticing, isn’t it?” His lips curl into a smirk, the kind that drips with arrogance and dark promises. “Could see it written all over your face that night at the hotel. That look in your eye while I was fucking Lexxie.”

His accusations slam into you, pulling up the exact moment you’ve been trying to bury. It should have been a professional gig, routine even, nothing personal… except that wasn’t the case. Not with the way he looked at you the entire time, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to react.

And, fuck, you had reacted. You felt the heat rise in your face, the way your body betrayed you as you stood behind the camera, mouth salivating, thighs pressing together.

“Javier…” You push at his chest, your hand meeting the hard wall of muscle beneath his shirt. The intent is to shove him back, to create some space between you. But the second your palm makes contact, it’s like the air shifts, and instead of moving him, it’s like you’ve anchored yourself to him.

Goddamn him. Goddamn you for your spineless ass, for not being able to follow through on resisting the temptation that he is.

He smirks wider, clearly reading the war going on behind your eyes. “You were shaking,” he continues, his voice a dark whisper that coils around your insides. “Damn near moaning while you watched me go down on her. Rubbing those thighs together while this pretty ass was in my face as she was sucking my cock.” 

His large hand snakes around you, catching you off guard, fingers gripping a handful of your ass and pulling you closer. Your body collides with his, and that’s when you feel it— his erection, hard and insistent, pressing into your stomach. The heat between you flares up to unbearable levels, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, every nerve ending in your body on high alert, buzzing with want.

“You’re delusional,” it’s breathless but you’re still determined to keep some semblance of control. You squirm in his grip, your body betraying your words, the friction making your mind tilt. “You just can’t stand the fact that, for once, a woman isn’t throwing herself at you. That I’m not kissing the ground you walk on or falling to my knees, ready to suck you off.”

His hold tightens briefly, pulling you even closer, and for a second, you wonder if you’ll be able to break free at all. It’s damn near impossible to ignore the ache building between your thighs at this point. But somehow, you manage to slip out of his grip, your body twisting away from his until you’ve backed yourself into the far corner of the elevator. 

You can’t breathe. Not properly, anyway. You’ve never felt so on edge, so exposed in such a small space. Every fiber of your being screams at you to keep your distance, to reassert control of the situation, but there’s a part of you— dangerous and impulsive— that wants to step right back into his arms.

Javier doesn’t move, but his eyes stay glued to you, watching your every movement like a predator stalking its prey. The elevator is still locked in place, a silent reminder that you’re trapped here with him until one of you decides to relent. His jaw clenches, and you think he’s going to say something cutting, something to tear you down. But instead, he surprises you.

“You’re right.” His voice is rough, but it carries a weight that’s different from the cocky arrogance he usually hides behind. “I can’t stand it.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavier than you expected. There’s no smirk this time, no sarcastic bite. Just honesty, and it’s a fucking curveball.

You weren’t prepared for him to actually admit it. For once, he’s not trying to fuck with you, not trying to win.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

You swallow hard, the weight of his confession making your heart leap out of your chest.

You don’t know what to say, so instead, you just stand there, staring at him, your body buzzing with a cocktail of adrenaline, lust, and confusion. Because as much as you want to dislike him, as much as you need to dislike him for your own sanity, you can’t deny the way your pussy responds to him. The way your mind keeps pulling you back to that night, to the way he made you feel without even touching you.

“Get over it,” you snap, cutting him off before he can sink any deeper into this conversation. You don’t need to entertain this further. It can’t happen, and it will never happen. The second you fall into bed with him, it’ll be game over. Javier Peña isn’t just a casual fuck— you know deep down he’d be the kind that wraps himself around your soul and doesn’t let go until he’s consumed every inch of you. 

The problem is, you’re terrified that you’ll let him. It’s why you’re so dead set on not giving in.

You cross your arms over your chest again, as if trying to shield yourself from the strength in his eyes, the way he seems to reach into your very core with just a look.

You try to focus on anything else— on the fact that you still need to get to the bank, then to your apartment, and finally to your bar shift. You don’t have time for this shit, for the endless back-and-forth with him.

But then he says your name.

The sound of it on his lips makes you close your eyes, every muscle in your body tensing. Damn him. It sounds so fucking sweet, almost reverent, and you know if you make the mistake of looking at him right now— if you see those beautiful, pleading brown eyes— you’ll fold.

He says your name again, softer this time, and the way his voice wraps around each syllable has your resolve teetering on the edge of collapse. “Please, just let me show you how good I can make you feel,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath fanning across your cheek. “Just one taste, nena, por favor.” 

And for the first time since you met Javier— he’s begging. You never imagined that he, of all people, would beg for anything. But here he is, his voice low and thick with desire, pleading with you to give him just one chance.

You blink your eyes open slowly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that have been ignited by his words. The synapses in your brain light up like fucking fireworks, each one triggering a new thought, a new possibility. There’s a moment— a split second— where you picture it.

You imagine his hands on your body, his lips trailing fire down your skin, his mouth between your legs. The image flashes so vividly, so intensely in your mind, that it steals the breath from your lungs. 

You can practically feel the way he’d elicit things you’ve been trying to suppress. Your legs go weak just thinking about it, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself, to remember who you are, what this is. 

But your cavewoman, horny brain betrays you— racing ahead, picturing every possible outcome. You can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to let him in, just once. How it would be to let him take control, to let him show you, like he’s promising, just how good he can make you feel. 

You’re already late getting to the bank. You should be focusing on that, on getting out of this damn elevator and away from him, but your body won’t cooperate. Every part of you is ablaze, screaming at you to just give in.

Javier’s standing there, staring at you with those chocolate eyes, his dark brows drawn together, pouty lips parted just slightly as he waits for you to say something. Anything. He’s laid it all out in front of you, leaving you to make the next move. And fuck, as much as you hate to admit it, you want to. You want to let him pull you into his world, even though you know it’ll consume you. You want to feel his hands on your skin, his mouth everywhere, his name slipping from your lips.

But you can’t. 

If you give in now, you’ll never be able to walk away from him, and you can’t afford to let yourself get tangled up in Javier Peña. He’s chaos wrapped in temptation, and once you let him in, there’s no turning back.

You swallow hard, your throat tight as you try to hold on to the last shred of control you have. “Javier,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering between desire and self-preservation. The weight of his gaze presses down on you, and for a moment, you think you might just jump.

But then, with every ounce of willpower you have left, you take a shaky breath, shaking your head and breaking the spell he’s woven around you.

“No,” you say, the word barely above a whisper, but firm enough to anchor you back to reality.

His face falls, the fire in his eyes dimming just a little. You almost regret it, almost, but then you remember who he is. What he does. And you know you made the right choice, even if every part of you is berating otherwise.

You stand there, locked in a silent standoff, both of you doing a piss poor job of pretending like you don’t want to tear each other’s clothes off right here in the elevator. 

You’re hoping—no, praying— that he’ll finally let it go. That he’ll stop pushing, stop testing your resolve, and just leave you alone. You’re begging for him to go back to what he does best, to leave you to your job— both of them.

You break eye contact first, glancing down at your watch. You’re definitely not going to make it to your shift on time. Shit. You need to phone your boss and give him a heads up before this gets even worse. But right now, you can’t seem to focus, not with Javier standing there like a Roman statue, immovable and perfect, watching you with that infuriating intensity.

“Now, if you can get the elevator to take us down, I’d really appreciate it,” you say, but the words come out softer than you intended. You hate how small your voice sounds, like you’ve already lost the upper hand, and you mentally slap yourself for it. 

But he doesn’t budge. He just stands there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and it makes you want to scream. His gaze is piercing, boring holes into your entire existence, and it’s taking everything you have not to crumble beneath it.

“Do you really mean that?” He asks as he brings a hand up to smooth down his mustache. There’s a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips, like he already knows the answer. “Because everything about your body language is screaming otherwise.” 

When the fuck did he get so close again? He’s right there, towering over you, and suddenly the air between you feels impossibly thin.

“It’s my fuckin’ job to read a woman’s body,” he continues, his voice growing huskier with each word. “And you know what yours is telling me right now?”

Your pulse quickens, your heart slamming against your ribcage, and you can’t find the words to respond. You don’t trust yourself to speak— not when his presence is drowning you in your own body. 

He leans in, lips so close to your ear that his breath almost has you fainting. “It’s telling me that you want it.”

Your stomach flips, every nerve ending in your body coming alive as his curved nose barely grazes your skin. The touch is featherlight, but it sends electricity straight to your cunt. You grip the railing behind you like a lifeline, your knuckles flushed as goosebumps ripple across your skin. 

Javier’s smirk deepens, the asshole clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Stop fighting it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, his hand sliding down the length of your figure in a way that feels too natural, too right. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel…”

You should stop him. You should. But you don’t. You can’t. His hands are on you now, moving with a confidence that’s impossible to resist. One large hand finds its way to your tit, groping it gently through the thin fabric of your tank top, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips before you can stop it. Your body fails you, head falling back against the elevator wall, your chest arching into his touch. 

The way his hand moves, so sure, so practiced, has your resistance crumbling, piece by piece. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your neck, peppering soft, teasing kisses along your sensitive skin. “Barely done a thing and you’re already gone.” 

Your mind is spinning, your resolve completely undone as you melt under his touch. Every kiss, every graze of his lips against your neck feels like it’s unraveling the last bit of control you have. His body is pressed up against yours, and you can feel his erection through his jeans again, the hard (pun intended) evidence of just how much he wants you.

God help you, it feels too good to resist.

You sigh, a low, breathy sound that’s equal parts surrender and relief. His lips trail lower, his hand still groping your breast, and you let him. You let him because you’ve been fighting this for too long, and right now, you just want to feel something. 

Javier grins against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he pulls you even closer, his voice hoarse in your ear. “Told you,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “I knew you wanted this.”

You don’t respond. There’s nothing left to say. You’ve given in, you’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces later, but right now? Right now, you’re letting yourself fall apart.

It’s like your whole body just deflates against his, sinking into the solid warmth of him as if all the fight has finally drained out of you. You’re giving him the green light, and he knows it. The grunt that escapes his throat is guttural, and you feel the weight of his palm pressing harder against your chest, his thumb and pointer finger expertly pinching your now hardened nipple through the fabric of your tank top.

“After this,” he murmurs, voice rough with restraint, “if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone.” His words are punctuated by a sharp tug at your nipple that sends a surge of arousal straight between your legs. Then his hand moves, sliding up to cradle your jaw with a surprising gentleness. He tilts your head so that your eyes meet his, forcing you to look at him— forcing you to really see him. “You have my word.”

You search his eyes, not entirely sure what you’re looking for— honesty, maybe? A hint of something real beyond the heat of the moment? Whatever it is, you can’t find the words to respond, so you just nod weakly, your breath bated. 

Javier smiles at that, a slow, predatory grin, and he leans in as if to kiss you. But you stop him, your hand pressing against his sternum with just enough force to halt him in his tracks.

“No kissing,” you say, your voice more resolute than you feel. “You said one taste, so get to it.” You’re setting boundaries, trying to keep some semblance of control in this situation. No kissing, no fucking— just head. That’s all this will be. He’ll get a taste of you, and you’ll finally get a taste of what all the hype is about. Then it’ll be over, and you’ll go your separate ways. That’s the deal.

His frown deepens, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features, like he’s not used to anyone telling him no in any capacity. But it’s brief, because he’s not about to take the proverbial bone you’ve thrown him for granted. He agrees in his own way, pivoting without protest, his mouth returning to your neck like he’s already forgotten the attempt to kiss you.

Now that the rules are clear, you allow yourself to let your guard down— just a little. It’s not like your sex life has been riveting lately, and truth be told, you can’t even remember the last time a partner went down on you willingly. At least you’re getting something out of this fucked-up little arrangement, and for now, that’s enough. 

He kisses and licks a line down your throat, his stubble scraping deliciously against the sensitive flesh. You sigh, your breath hitching as you feel his hands roaming your body with a confidence that should piss you off but doesn’t. 

His rough palms map out your curves like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. He’s groping, squeezing, learning you in a way that makes you feel like you’re his personal discovery. 

The warmth of his breath, the skill in his movements— it’s intoxicating. You can’t help but respond, your hips shifting, your body bending instinctively toward him when one hand slides up under your shirt, fingertips brushing the underside of your breast.

He’s good at this, you’ll give him that. Too damn good. It’s almost like he’s a fucking pornstar.

You hate that you’re enjoying it so much, hate that you’re already melting under his touch like some lovesick fool.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmurs against your skin, feeling the nerves radiating off of you. 

His touch lingers as he reaches the button on your denim shorts, undoing it with a flick of his fingers before pulling down the zipper, slow and deliberate.

“You and these damn shorts…” you hear him say, more to himself than to you. His voice is gruff, frustrated, like he’s been waging a silent battle against his own restraint. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down over your hips, watching as the fabric slides off your skin. You step out of them, standing there in nothing but your underwear, top and sneakers, exposed in ways you hadn’t intended to be when you walked into that office earlier today.

His brows shoot up, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Of course, it’s laundry day. Of course, you’re left wearing your least practical pair of underwear— this skimpy, lacy purple number you hardly ever break out. The delicate string disappears between the cheeks of your ass, and the sheer front does little to conceal the soft tuft of hair just below your navel. 

And he’s drinking it all in.

“Fuckin’ hell, nena,” he breathes, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and lust. His eyes flick back up to yours, dark and hungry. “You always walkin’ around like this?” His hands grip your hips, and before you can even formulate a response, he’s sinking to his knees in front of you, taking his sweet ass time, like this is some kind of worship.

“No, I—” Your voice is breathy, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “I had to do laundry today…” It’s all you can manage, barely coherent as his lips begin pressing soft, teasing kisses to the inside of your knee.

He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, steadying you, his fingers gripping your thigh with enough pressure to leave you keening. You brace yourself against the elevator railing, your body tense with anticipation, your mind a chaotic swirl of logic and lust. You barely notice as the check you came here for flutters to the floor beside you, forgotten.

Don’t forget to deposit that, the reasonable part of your brain chimes in, but you tell that bitch to shut up because Javier Peña is currently on his knees in font of you, about to take you on the ride of your fucking life, and you’re nowhere near strapped in.

His head is tilted up, lips brushing dangerously close to where you want him most, and all rational thought is slipping through your fingers like sand.

He looks up at you then, his dark eyes glinting with something wicked, and your breath catches again. You don’t know how to feel about any of this anymore. There’s a line you swore you wouldn’t cross, but now that he’s right there, so close to giving you what you’ve craved for longer than you care to admit, it’s hard to remember why you drew that line in the first place.

Javier’s lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and a quiet moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks against your skin, his fingers tracing a slow path up your leg, sending shivers coursing through you. “Relax, bonita,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “I’ll take care of you.”

You want to tell him to hurry up, to stop teasing, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale as his hands part your thighs wider, positioning you exactly how he wants you. His grip is firm, possessive, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll survive whatever it is he’s about to do to you.

You don’t even have time to dwell on the thought before his mouth is on you, lips pressing a lingering kiss over the thin fabric of your panties. The sudden pressure sends a shockwave through your body, and your eyes fall closed, surrendering to the moment. His tongue teases the fabric, nudging against your already soaked cunt, and you can feel the wetness seeping through the lace. He hums low in his throat, savoring the first taste of you.

“These are so pretty. Don’t think I’ll take ’em off.”

He hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric and pulls it aside, exposing you to him completely. The cool air hits your slick folds, a contrast to the heat of his breath as he hovers just inches away. He’s staring, taking you in, and when he curses under his breath, it’s like he’s caught off guard by how badly he wants this. Wants you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, as he drags his nose up and down the length of your wet slit. The touch is maddeningly light, just enough to make you clench involuntarily, your body reacting without permission. More of your slick leaks out of your pussy, a response to the subtle stimulation, and you grip the elevator railing tighter to keep yourself from falling with how weak your knees get.

Javier flattens his tongue, delivering a slow, deliberate lick from your entrance to your clit, and it’s like your entire body ignites at once. You throw your head back, a ragged cry of his name ripping from your throat as your hips buck instinctively, searching for more of him, more of that friction that feels like pure electricity.

He’s not done, though. Not even close. One hand snakes around your thighs, strong and sure. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open, forming an upside-down V, and then he does something so filthy, so perfectly Javier— he spits directly onto your exposed pussy.

The sound alone could get you off, but the sensation is something else entirely. His saliva mixes with your slick, making everything wetter, hotter, and you feel like you’re unraveling before he’s even truly begun. A series of high-pitched moans spill from your lips as he latches his mouth onto your cunt, sucking and licking with a precision that has your entire being quaking.

Lips, tongue, teeth—he’s using everything he has, dragging you deeper into a haze of pleasure where nothing exists but the heat coiling in your belly, tightening with every flick. He’s devouring you, utterly relentless, and it’s too much but not enough, all at once. Every nerve ending is on fire, your thighs trembling as you fight to keep your balance. His grip on your leg tightens, keeping you locked in place, helpless to do anything but take what he’s giving.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling back for just a moment, leaning his cheek against your inner thigh. His face is glistening, covered in your arousal, but his eyes are dark and hungry, never straying from your face. “With noises like that and a pussy this pretty— you’d be a fucking sight on camera.”

His words send another jolt through you, dirty and wrong and so fucking hot that you nearly forget how to breathe. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving faint marks in his wake, before diving back in with that skilled tongue of his. He’s a man with something to prove, alternating between broad strokes and tight circles, zeroing in on your fleshy clit with a precision that makes your head spin.

It’s obscene, the way he’s working you over, all these years spent perfecting this art, but there’s a rawness to it too, a desperation like he can’t get enough of you. You’re soaked, dripping onto his face, and he laps it up like a man starved, the sounds of his mouth slurping against your wetness filling the small space around you. Your moans are louder now, more desperate, each one pushing you closer to that edge where you’re not sure if you’ll survive the fall.

His fingers tighten on your thigh again, and then he’s dragging them lower, inching toward your entrance as his tongue flicks mercilessly against your clit. When he slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you nearly scream. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is enough to send you spiraling, your legs trembling uncontrollably as you arch into him.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunts when he pulls away to get a good look at your beautiful face and how you look when he’s making you feel like you’re on top of the world. It’s enough to get him to latch onto your clit, sucking on it harshly.

“God, Javier,” you gasp, your voice shaky, barely coherent. You can’t think, can’t form any rational thought, not with the way he’s pulling you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the pleasure.

“Let go,” he growls against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your core. “I’ve got you, nena. Just let go.” 

And with that, the dam breaks. You’re coming hard, hips jerking wildly as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body shaking with the force of it. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up for a second, working you through it with that relentless mouth until you’re gasping for air, hands clenching at the railing so hard you’re surprised it hasn’t snapped. 

Your vision blurs, your mind goes blank, and all you can do is hold on as Javier takes you on the ride of your life, just like you knew he would.

You don’t know how long it takes you to come back into your body after letting him take the reins for a little. You’re trembling, legs weak and body heavy against the cool metal wall of the elevator. He’s still on his knees, knuckle-deep inside you, lazily curling them as if savoring every last second.

His mouth trails soft, teasing kisses across your soaked panties, and the tenderness of the act startles you, nearly pulling you under again. But then he withdraws his fingers, slipping them into his mouth with an almost obscene groan, tasting you one last time as if to commit your flavor to memory. He carefully adjusts your underwear back into place.

Javier stands to his full height, your leg falling from his shoulder, towering over you. His hand comes to rest lightly on your waist as if to steady you. “You okay?”

You nod, though your bones feel like jelly. Your eyes stay closed as you try to gather yourself, forcing yourself back into reality, back into the woman who doesn’t fold like a house of cards for her co-worker. You bend down to retrieve your shorts and check from the floor, fingers fumbling with the zipper as you button yourself back up. He presses the button to resume the elevator, the gears shifting as you’re slowly carried back to the main floor. 

And just like that, it hits you. It happened. You’ve came on Javier’s tongue and fingers. You swore it wouldn’t— swore up and down that he was nothing more than a nuisance at work, a distraction you wouldn’t let get to you. But here you are, post-orgasm, in a goddamn public elevator, of all places, with the man who was supposed to be just a headache.

“Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again,” you mutter, trying to summon the biting edge to your words, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him.

Javier just smirks, that infuriating glint back in his eyes like he already knows better, but he doesn’t push it. Not now.

The elevator doors slide open with a sharp ding, and the scene before you is worse than any nightmare you could’ve concocted in the heat of the moment. Two firefighters, the building manager, and— of course because why the hell not— Steve Murphy are standing there with varying degrees of shock and amusement.

You can see the moment Steve takes it all in— your flushed cheeks, the slightly mussed state of your clothes, Javier standing just a bit too close to you. His blue eyes narrow, then widen, and then he breaks into a shit-eating grin so wide you could slap it right off his face.

“Well, well, well,” Steve drawls, barely containing his laughter. “What do we have here?”

Your stomach sinks. Not again. 

Javier, ever the cocky bastard, simply raises an eyebrow and slides his hands into his pockets, all cool nonchalance like he hasn’t just been between your thighs minutes earlier. “Just crapped out on us randomly,” he says smoothly, and you want to strangle him for the audacity.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head as if he’s in on some big joke that only you and Javier are the punchline for. And as you step past him, cheeks burning, all you can think is that this will never, ever happen again.

But even as you repeat it to yourself, a small part of you— the part still buzzing from the memory of Javier’s mouth— wonders if you’re lying.

[labyrinth-of-her-heart]

braaainnnn vomit because i am dying from growing pains, some ideas go to this one lady i saw on youtube shorts (ty queen) FEM READER, pink is reader thoughts wrote this at 3 in der morning forgive me

thinking about subtle sarcastic reader, especially to the type of man she'd encounter while working in the army. being a civilian and a woman many on base just looked over her, or looked too intensely at certain parts of her. but after months of working she's found her place, she's now respected by those who surround her. but what happens when some higher ups come and visit?

working closely with the 141 was no easy task. going from mundane paperwork to the flurry of movement from a mission was difficult for you to handle, let alone helping them. you'd grown closer to them though, no more bouts of shyness stopping you from being yourself. instead you'd grown in to steady workplace banter with all.

unfortunately today couldn't be one of those days as some ever so important higher ups were holding a meeting with the 141, and since you handle the majority of the paperwork you were so graciously invited to attend. you wished you had a little bit more time to prepare for this. these were important people, who wouldn't be nervous? apart from soap who appeared with a shit-eating grin at your office door, gifting you another surprise meeting. or gaz who could charm any conversation his way a bit too easily, with suave compliments and easy-going humour. don't forget ghost who doesn't even need to look engaged because of his mask, or be expected to speak due to his... unique personality. oh and the captain has been to countless of these meetings, so he can't empathise with you either.

but, one thing you could all agree on is that meetings were incredibly boring. for two reasons mostly. either the attendees were so dense it seemed they hadn't stepped on planet earth before, let alone a military base. or the subject matter was so bland you all wondered why there needed to be a meeting in the first place.

as your heels tapped hastily along the hallway you wondered which it would rather be. arriving barely on time with a tight clutch on haphazardly organised documents and a cup of coffee you opened the door, and had an inkling it wouldn't be any. you were met with two male voices. one high, clipped and plummy, the other harsh and american.

" -- that's what i expected from someone of her- oh hello! nice to finally meet you" the man at the head of the table said. an older, short and stout man with thin wire-rimmed glasses and a black tailored suit. a typical english man in an authoritative position. "ah, sorry i was late you'll have to excuse me. i thought to bring my extra notes, i hope i didn't make you wait long." you replied. "not at all, my colleague mr sullivan and i were discussing stories from our base". your gaze flicked over to what must be the source of the american voice. perfectly gold hair stuck down with copious amounts of gel, paired with lightly tanned skin and a too white smile didn't make it hard to guess. "civilians eh?" the taller man began "don't know what's up with the ones here, especially the woman we were just talki-"

"right" prices deep gravely voice cut over the grating one "we should start the meeting now we're all here". murmurs of agreement filled the room, and so did glances between the 141 that you didn't pick upon. however you did notice they were unusually quiet though you brushed it off, they were probably tired. "gosh where are my manners" the man at the head of the table exclaimed "my name is mr buckton and i'll be leading this meeting." briskly taking a few steps towards you he shook your hand roughly. being polite you attempted to make eye contact, yet his eyes were still looking straight ahead? lingering only on your chest for a moment he then made eye contact with you, a wide grin plastered on his face. "come, your seat is next to mine" he prompted, gesturing you to walk infront of him and take your seat. as you walked infront of him his eyes now travelled further south. a small grimace shared from gaz to soap went undetected by the three sitting at the top of the table. mr buckton at the head, you to his left and then the captain and ghost next to you. opposite was mr sullivan, with gaz then soap next to him. with you all seated the meeting began.

for once the meeting was actually worth being held. despite it not being anything too serious you did well, even with your nerves. you answered questions and expanded in the points of others. as you suggested plans of action mr buckton steadily kept his eyes on you, while mr sullivan constantly scribbled notes down. soon enough the meeting was a breeze. well for about ten minutes. across from you, mr sullivan was very inquisitive about anything you said. asking you to back it up or to show proof. not thinking much of it you obliged. it was a little odd but you knew your stuff and why not show off infront of higher ups? however the sentiment was not shared with the rest of the 141. who even asked for evidence about evidence? they understood wanting clarification on certain things, but it was growing incessant now. you were capable of your job and they knew that - that's why you were there. price especially helped you in the growing awkwardness; his job had never been so easy with you working underneath him. gaz and soap constantly gave eachother questioning glances, not wanting to explicitly speak up if their captain didn't. ghost was pissed he couldn't hide his eyes rolling as well as his scowl behind his balaclava. although they were growing increasingly annoyed the meeting continued, with more ridiculous questions being asked. professionalism was continued with a grim expression for another twenty minutes or so. hardly.

until mr sullivan basically dislocated his back by stretching in his chair with an exaggerated yawn leaving his cavernous mouth. "thought you woulda brought coffee since you kept us waiting for so long, cant believe you didn't make me some fresh". with beady eyes on you he smiled lazily. oh he has to be joking you thought to yourself there's no way this guy is real. play them at their own game. "why would i make more coffee? i've already made some for myself" you smiled sickly back at him back, one that gaz has used on you many times when he's late giving you a report.

the table fell unusually silent again, and that's when you noticed it. the crackling of unease filling the air. sharp eyes from the 141 darted from eachother to you, to mr sullivan and back again. "don't be so mean, i'm literally a dying man" he snarkily replied, eyeing you coolly. "i have urgent needs that need to be taken care of, won't you help?". you felt your cheeks warm at his badly hidden innuendo. he smirked at this, finally affecting you after bugging you the whole bloody meeting. fuck impressing him he's an arsehole.

"well, i'm sure you'll be alright by yourself again. seems it happens a lot." you said back, indifferent. as soon as that left your mouth a strange sharp bark that hastily turned in to a cough came from soap. all heads from the table whipped to look at him. "pardon me" he shakily said with an awfully contained smile. taking a sip of his drink his watery eyes didn't stray from the blank wall above ghosts head.

"let's get back on track hmm?" mr buckton suggested "so cheeky, must be that time of the month". he turned to you with an eyebrow raised with an impish grin.

what. what the actual fuck.

price coughed uncomfortably and turned away. gaz and ghost looked at eachother in disbelief. and soap was finding that wall even more interesting. surely it could not get any worse

"oh you all know what women are like, don't pretend. especially when they're frustrated" mr buckton let out a giggle "you know from work".

you actually spluttered, eyes wide with disbelief. the feeling of unease in the air was now a full crackle of electricity. just as you felt price boiling with anger you grabbed me bucktons hand. if everyone on the table wasn't watching you, they certainly were now

"tell me" you said. mr buckton looked at you shocked, mouth gaping open. "tell me what women are like. you know i've been so airheaded this last week i hardly know my left from my right!". just to amp it up a little you slowly crossed your arms just underneath your chest, accentuating it. "you've explained so much to me this meeting surely you could explain this?"

the 141's eyes grew to the size of saucers, there's no way these two would actually fall for this? right? how are you getting away with this, they thought. at this point mr bucktons and mr sullivans jaws were practically falling off. the latter was sadly the quickest to start talking 'so, when women start-". a smart rap in the door interrupted. a male voice said seriously "emergency call for you mr buckton".

"oh, oh you must excuse us. i have to end this meeting" mr buckton declared "i simply cant miss this". messily shuffling their papers together both men swiftly said their goodbyes to you all. with that they just about made it out the door without tripping over their own legs.

a second passed after the door banged shut before gaz burst out in howls of laughter, clutching his ribs, soon joined by soap who could barely look at the wall for any longer. ghost stared at the door muttering who knows what under his breath and the captain sat there with his gaze fixated on the table mortified. he turned his head to you apologising profusely and asking if you're okay.

you just nodded vaguely and replied "men"

all likes, reblogs and comments are so appreciated!! this is my first time writing something properly so i hope you enjoyed it

[therhythmafterthesummer]

It’s Cold Out (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Roomies to Lovers Warnings: curvy/chubby reader · swearing · pet names · possessiveness · possibly inaccurate descriptions of birth control (this is a work of fiction, after all) · good ol’ rut driven intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Summary: Your roommate had been acting weird lately, weirder than usual. It was because of his condition, you thought, and in a way, you had been right, just not in the way you had expected. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series].

Author’s note: Happy Halloween month to all of us! If there’s a God up there, only she can judge me for this. [31/03/23: this story has been re-edited as of this date. special thanks to @straylightdream​​ for reading this new edition before anyone else and sharing her thoughts with me].

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: intercrural sex · unprotected penetration [piv] · oral [F.Rec] · lots of praising (LOTS) · breeding kink (kind of) · copious amount of fluids · knotting

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

To say Chris had been acting weird this week would be an understatement.

You were sure it all started over the weekend, since you noticed his odd behaviour that Friday night when you were about to leave your shared flat to go hang out with one of your friends. Chris had come out of his room to get something from the kitchen, and he had stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw you there applying your makeup by the bureau in the entrance.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t caught him looking at you before, you were pretty confident that he’d often look at you–whether it was for instinctual reasons or what you weren’t really sure–but he genuinely looked like a deer in the headlights while he stood there completely paralysed. The worst part was that you weren’t wearing anything particularly revealing, just a crop top–that wasn’t even that short, it barely even exposed your belly–and some leggings.

“You okay there?” You asked Chris as you returned your eyes to the mirror, adding the finishing touches to your makeup.

“Uhh… Are you… Are you going out?” You didn’t look back at him while he talked to you, deciding that, since he was being awkward, it would be easier for him to speak without you looking at him.

“Yeah, babes. I’ve been talking about it all week, remember?” Dropping the eyeliner pen back on your makeup bag you looked at yourself one last time. ‘This will do’ was all you could think, satisfied with your face as you turned to look at your roommate. 

Chris wasn’t there anymore, but he emerged from his room seconds after with one of his black hoodies in hand. “Take this, pretty. It’s cold out”, pet names were a constant in the household, even among Chris’ friends, so you never thought much of it whenever he said them to you, or whenever you said them to him.

You chuckled, oddly amused by the sudden request. “I already have a jacket, Chris. But thank you”.

“No, no. You need to take it. Seriously”, Chris moved, getting into your space, going as far as to try to put the garment over your head.

“Woa, Chris–” You tried to push him away, but he ignored your protests.

“It won’t be any good if you catch a cold!”

“Chris!” You took a hold of the garment and jumped back away from him, keeping the hoodie in your hands.

Chris whined your name, he really whined. “Please, just… Take it. And wear it…”

He looked genuinely concerned, and it made you sigh immediately. You examined the item in your hands for a second, it was one of his oversized hoodies–oversized even on him. As you looked between the garment in your hands and Chris’ worried face, you couldn’t help but sigh. It was always hard for you to not give in to your roommate’s requests. “Fine, fine. I’ll take it, jeez”.

A bright smile settled on his lips as he watched you put on the hoodie, his eyes disappeared into crescents and his dimples were now on full display. The sight almost made you scream, he was just too damn cute and you felt your heart thump a bit faster against your ribcage as soon as your eyes landed on his form. 

“Happy now?” You huffed out, dragging your hands down your front, trying to help the fabric settle over your body. The thing was huge, the hem reached the middle of your thighs, and the sleeves pooled around your limbs, effectively engulfing your frame.

“Very”, Chris moved back into your space, bringing his hands up to fiddle with the hood of the hoodie, almost like he was trying to put it around your neck as a makeshift scarf. “Need a lift?” Satisfied with the position of the hood, his hands moved to your shoulders, dragging them over the fabric like he was trying to iron creases out.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine”.

Chris’ gaze moved to look you in the eyes. The movement of his hands on your shoulders stopped, but he didn’t remove them.

Ever since you met him around a year ago, there had always been something about Chris’ eyes that made you feel oddly giddy. It was almost as if his gaze was trying to intimidate you. Your brain always urged you to look away whenever you looked him in the eyes for too long–which was silly, considering Chris was one of the most welcoming, caring people you’d ever met.

You never gave into that fight or flight instinct. On the contrary, subconsciously–and sometimes, even consciously, you’d admit–you made it a point to keep staring right back at him, almost like you were challenging him. Which was probably very stupid on your part, since you knew really well who he was–what he was.

Clearing your throat, you mustered the most confident tone you could to speak. “I have to… Have to go now”.

Chris blinked slightly, as if your voice had brought him back from a place deep within his thoughts. “Right…” 

His hands moved from your shoulders to cradle your face, and he took one step closer to press a kiss on your forehead. Chris did this often, especially before you left the house, you had seen him do it to his younger friends, too. The gesture always brought heat to your face, and you honestly didn’t think you’d ever get used to it.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. Have fun, love!” was the last thing he told you before he turned around and returned to his room.

You left shortly after that, feeling actually thankful for the hoodie once you stepped out of the building, since it truly was cold out, and the garment surely helped you retain heat much better than the jacket you were planning on wearing.

That day, you had decided to stay at your friend’s place for an impromptu sleepover, and the entire thing triggered the second weird interaction with Chris that weekend, just that this time it was over text.

< You: heyyyyy darrliinnng,,,,  < just so you know i’m staying here today < dont forget to lock the door tonight < AGAIN

> Xtopher 🐺: i never forget to lock the door pretty girl > lier > liiiieeeerrr

You scoffed at the message, but you also couldn’t help but chuckle after. The nerve of this man, as if you hadn’t arrived home late at night or even the next day after going out to find that he didn’t lock the door. After a couple of minutes, Chris texted again.

> Xtopher 🐺: u guys on ur own?

< You: no < my friend’s older brothers are here < we’re playing mario kart

Chris had read your message. You could see he was online, and you saw the ‘typing…’ message appear and disappear for five whole minutes before he finally replied.

> Xtopher 🐺: u wearing the hoodie > ?

< You: yes?

> Xtopher 🐺: show me

You rolled your eyes, just slightly annoyed–or you tried to tell yourself you were annoyed, in reality you had a smile on your face, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit amused by Chris’ antics. You decided to humour him. After all, you hadn’t taken the hoodie off since you left your flat. If anyone asked, you’d just tell them the thing was comfortable–which wasn’t entirely a lie–but the truth was you continued wearing it just because you enjoyed the way you could smell him on it. It was almost like he was there, hugging you.

< You: [sent a photo]

> Xtopher 🐺: good > u should sleep in it cutie > its cold today

He’d mentioned this ‘it’s cold, you’ll catch a cold’ thing twice already. Chris could be overly protective of his friends, you’d seen it time and time again with your neighbours–his friends–and you’d even been on the receiving end of his worries many times in the past, so you decided not to think too much of it.

The moment you opened your flat’s door the next day, Chris was already pulling you into his arms, hugging you tightly and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let him hug you, because of course you did. It wasn’t like you never hugged, but it was honestly never like this–never had he held you this close, this tightly. Even if his behaviour had been slightly out of the ordinary you couldn’t bring yourself to not let him hug you, selfishly deciding that you would let yourself indulge.

What you had not been prepared for that day, though, was feeling Chris press his face to your neck, nor feeling his nose lightly brush the area right under your jaw. You tensed at the foreign feeling, and Chris tensed immediately after. He scrambled to pull himself away from you, mumbling a ‘sorry, welcome back. There’s food on the stove’ before he promptly disappeared into his room.

Things got weirder as days went by, Chris would simultaneously get close to you and try to keep himself as far away as possible. It got especially weird one night when his friend Seungmin came by. You’d hugged Seungmin to greet him–just like you always did–and you were both suddenly startled by a low growl. Seungmin’s eyes snapped in Chris’ direction, looking at him sitting on the sofa, glaring at you two. Seungmin had moved faster than you could even register the movement, walking as far away from you as possible and rambling on to his friend about something you honestly couldn’t even remember now.

You knew what Chris and his friends were. You knew what this entire building was–although you didn’t know it when you first moved here.

Your mother and Chris’ worked at the same company, so when he started to look for a roommate because ‘godforsaken bills are expensive as shit’, his mother had asked around the office for any possible candidate, and your mother had given her your contact details since you had been looking to move out for a few months by that point.

The building wasn’t particularly big, only four floors without counting the ground floor. You learnt after moving in that the building belonged to Changbin’s parents. Changbin was one of Chris’ closest friends, and that arrangement with his parents made it so the both of them and six other friends of theirs could move into this building.

At first, you had been hesitant to move in with a man, but on your first visit Chris had made you feel so comfortable and welcomed there was no doubt in your mind when you finally decided to move in.

You learnt of their… Condition four months after moving in. You had a date and the guys thought you wouldn’t be coming back that day. Chris was clearly not counting on your date being an absolute asshole and you running back to your flat that same night, because as soon as you stepped through the door you found three large ‘dogs’ in the middle of your living room with Chris and a handful of his friends surrounding them. They all gave you panicked looks, and after a lot of screaming and prying and questioning, Chris confessed to you that they were werewolves.

It had taken you a full week to accept the truth, but once you did every single odd behaviour you had noticed in Chris and his friends made a lot of sense. Their monthly ‘camping trip’ that would always conveniently happen when there was a full moon, how touchy and affectionate he and his friends were, ‘cuddles are a must!’ he would say often when holding onto someone, or how hot their skin was… The list could go on and on. Interestingly enough, they never made you feel threatened or in danger, on the contrary, they had welcomed you into their lives–into their den–and they even became your friends, too.

You had done a lot of reading on werewolves since then. Sometimes you asked Chris for details when you felt specially curious, other times you just went on the internet and dug out whatever you could find, but this odd behaviour of Chris’ lately was something you hadn’t inquired further into yet. You’d been too busy trying to study for your upcoming exams while balancing work, and that left no room for your mind to wander. Hell, you hadn’t even had time to fold your laundry, the pile of clothes being moved back and forth from the chair to your bed every morning and every night.

You were sitting on your chair, leaning over the desk in your room to scribble on the countless sheets of papers scattered around, trying to cram even more information into your brain. You certainly needed to take a break, but it was hard to bring yourself to. The universe, however, clearly had other plans for you.

The sudden knock on your door startled you, but you still turned around and mustered a soft ‘come in’, only to see Chris open your door shortly after, making his way into your room.

“Hey, you wanna eat–” His movements stopped and his eyes opened wide as his gaze moved from the pile of clothes on your bed, to you, back to the clothes, and back to you.

“Ah, sorry for the mess. I haven’t had time to fold my clothes”, you shrugged, pulling the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing–his hoodie–down your arm again, since you usually had to roll it up to your elbow when you wanted to write to avoid shuffling the papers around.

Chris’ eyes followed your movement, and the doorknob he still held in his hand rattled slightly as his grip around it tightened–tight enough to make his fist tremble.

“Shit…” He mumbled, only to turn around and bolt out of your room. “Shit, shit, shit…” You could hear him swearing even as he walked away, and alarm bells started to ring in your head instantly.

Your body moved almost on its own, following him down the hall. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” He fumbled with his bag that had been discarded this morning by the sofa, pushing his laptop inside. “Gotta go…” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or not, but you pressed him further.

“Christopher, what’s wrong?”

“You… Shit… Go, go, go…” Chris made a beeline towards the front door, picking up his keys from their designated bowl on the bureau as soon as he made it to the entryway.

You couldn’t let him leave, not when he looked this… Well, you weren’t sure what he was feeling, but he was certainly frantic, and that couldn’t be a good sign. So you moved quickly, getting close to him so you could pull on his arm. “Chris–”

At that moment you were reminded that Chris and his friends were, in fact, otherworldly. You couldn’t even register the movement, one instant you were standing in the middle of the hall and the next you had your back against the wall, with Chris’ hands at either side of you and his body pressing you to it as his nose brushed against your neck, inhaling deeply.

“So fucking good…” His voice was barely a whisper, but there was absolutely no space between you, so you heard him. You heard him loud and clear. You should’ve felt intimidated, scared even. But right then, as you felt his warmth seep into you, and hearing the low tone of his voice, you couldn’t help but come to the realisation that you liked it.

“C–Chris”, your hands came up, your fingers barely brushed his sides, but then he moved away, rather abruptly.

“Fuck, I’m… I’m so sorry”, he brought his hands to his head, burying his fingers in his hair, and pulling the strands as he started to pace around the hall. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry”.

“Are you… Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, he was clearly extremely worried, and now that you got to look at him better, he almost looked in pain. It was starting to worry you.

Chris’ eyes snapped up to meet yours, and an incredulous look settled on his face. “Am I okay? I just pushed you against the wall and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

You simply held his gaze, just like you always did. You didn’t know how long the stare-off lasted, probably a few seconds, but it felt eternal. You would’ve continued staring back at him had a growl not resonated from deep within his chest, making the fine hairs at your nape stand on end and your eyes go wide in surprise, while his shut tightly. “Stop looking me in the eyes, God. Do you have any idea what that does to my head?”

“What does it do?” You could guess what it did. You could guess because you had thought about it before. 

Chris was an alpha werewolf, he was the leader of his pack, and you knew that eye contact could potentially mean you were challenging his role in the group. And maybe you were. Maybe you were just trying to get him to react.

“Makes me want to–” Chris cut himself short, gritting his teeth and grimacing slightly. When he opened his eyes again, they were almost pleading. “God, I’m so sorry. I’ve been… Been trying really hard to not make you uncomfortable, but here I am being a total creep”.

You finally detached yourself from the wall, walking a few steps closer to him, and his body tensed at the proximity. “I don’t think you’re a creep, I’m actually really worried about you. You’ve been acting weird all week, what’s going on?”

“Shit, you… You really have no idea, do you?” Chris’ entire body was taut as he stared you up and down, and the motion made you gulp, almost audibly.

“About what?” You took another tentative step closer. Your brain did register the danger, it urged you to run away, but there was something in you that wouldn’t let you, that wanted you to move as close to him as you could.

Chris’ gaze moved back up to look at your face briefly, only to dip lower slightly, looking at your neck. His tongue peeked from within his mouth, licking his lips almost absentmindedly as he looked at you. “How fucking good you smell”, he inhaled sharply. The action somehow brought heat to your face, it made you blush. “Fuck, it’s been driving me nuts all week. It’s been driving me nuts for months, but especially this week…”

He took a step closer, only to stop his movements as soon as they started, clenching his fists tightly at his sides. You stayed silent, rooted on the spot right where you were, which he clearly noticed. “You need to get away from me. I’m… Dangerous, fuck. The things roaming in my head right now… Shit…”

You knew he was right. You needed to leave. But you really couldn’t bring yourself to. “What are you thinking about? Tell me”.

Shaking his head, Chris shut his eyes tightly, and a faint blush settled on his cheeks. Against your better judgement, you walked another step closer, just as your eyes roamed his form. You had failed to notice before, but now it was very obvious to you what was going on. Your eyes went wide in surprise, and you just couldn’t stop your tongue from leaving your mouth to lick your lips as you noticed the tent in his joggers. He was… He was huge, and you would lie if you said you were not affected by the sight.

Chris’ eyes snapped open, and yours snapped back up to look him in the eyes again. Shit, he’d caught looking, and something was starting to change in his eyes as he looked back at you. Gulping the saliva that had collected in your mouth, you found the courage to ask. “Are you… Are you going through your rut already?”

“So it seems”, he took a step closer towards you.

“Is this why you’ve been lending me one of your hoodies every day? To leave your scent on me?” 

His ears grew red, but he kept his mouth tightly shut. His eyes scanned your face for a bit only to finally settle on your neck once again, giving you a minute nod of his head.

“Be honest with me, Christopher. Why are you doing it? Is this something you do with our friends, too, to keep them safe or something?” You needed to know. You needed to know what he thought of you. Did he think of you in the same ways that you had thought of him all these months?

Chris inhaled deeply once again, and he took another step closer. “No, this is not something I do to my friends. I just can’t bear thinking there might be anyone out there that could smell you and get any ideas, especially not when you’re fucking ovulating”.

Your breath hitched in your throat, just as you felt wetness pool in your core, and Chris growled. He literally growled, like an animal, and the sound made you a bit lightheaded, but probably not for the reasons it should have. “Fuck, why are you… Why are you getting turned on by this? You know full well what I am. Go lock yourself in your fucking room while I can still think and hold back”.

“What if… What if I don’t want to lock myself in my room?” You licked your lips, and Chris’ eyes followed the movement, just as another low growl resonated from deep within him. “What if I don’t want you to hold back?”

You felt your back hit the wall again, but it was hard to register it when you could also feel Chris’ lips on yours, when you could feel him kissing you so eagerly. A small whimper escaped your mouth as soon as he kissed you, and you immediately kissed him back, grabbing his shirt tightly in your fists to pull him as close to you as you could while his hands found their way to your lower back. 

You could feel his hardened length press against your belly, and it made you whine. One of his hands dipped lower from your back to grope one of your buttocks while the other dragged up your front, finding one of your breasts and squeezing it. His grip was strong, firm and you couldn’t help but moan against his mouth, eliciting a grunt from his lips.

When Chris separated his mouth from yours, he diverted his attention to your neck, pressing his nose under your jaw and inhaling deeply once again. “Fuck, you smell so fucking good. So sweet and fertile”, the hand on your breast shuffled, and his fingers found your nipple, pinching it over the fabric of your hoodie–his hoodie. “I want you to be mine, fuck. Mine and only mine. I’ve wanted it for so long”.

Your inner walls clenched around nothing, and you felt more wetness pool at your core as soon as his words registered in your brain. Chris noticed, because of course he did, how could he not when his enhanced senses seemed to be able to pick up even the smallest changes in your body. He rolled his hips to grind his cock against you, grunting, letting you feel him. “You want that, too, yeah? Wanna be mine? Just say it, love, and I’ll make you mine. All mine”, he emphasised his words with another squeeze to your breast, making you whine.

“Wanna–Wanna be yours… Wanted to for so long, too”.

“Fuck…” He moved his hand from your breast, dragging all the way up for him to take a hold of the back of your neck while his lips returned to yours.

He kissed you with force, with need, his tongue made its way into your mouth to find yours eagerly waiting for him, ready to dance against his. You felt dizzy, completely overcome by his presence around you–his hands, his tongue, his mouth, the sounds he made, how warm he felt under your hands… All combined was steadily clouding your reason–not like you had much of it left since you had moved into this place.

Chris scooped you into his arms, the action was so sudden it made you yelp as your legs wrapped around his middle on instinct and your arms looped around his neck for stability. No one had ever been able to pick you up like this, this… Easily. 

You weren’t exactly light, you’d always been on the curvier, chubbier side–which you’d always liked about yourself, you did feel pretty, but you had never let anyone even remotely try to carry you. Yet, Chris didn’t seem to struggle one bit, as if you weighed nothing. Moving with purpose, he started to whisper in your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. So good. I’ll treat you so well, just like you deserve”.

Your hands trembled slightly as you held onto his shoulders. “Chris…”

“God…” Chris reached your room, pushing the door closed with his foot as soon as he was inside. “Say my name again”.

“Chris”, your voice was barely a whisper, with your lips almost pressed to his ear as you spoke.

“Again” He dropped you on your bed, right on top of your unfolded clothes. Taking a hold of the back of his vest top, he pulled it over his head, and your mouth immediately watered at the sight. He was so incredibly handsome, you could almost feel your hands tremble with excitement at the prospect of finally getting to touch him just how you’d been wanting to

“Chris”, you repeated, looking up at him as he kneeled between your legs. He was so broad, you just couldn’t stop your hands from reaching out to palm his shoulders while his fingers hooked on the waistband of your leggings, and you gasped when he pulled them roughly down your legs.

“Fuck… Look at you”, his hands found your inner thighs, rubbing them up and down, dragging them over your skin for a bit to warm up, only to grip them tightly after, making you squeal. 

He pushed your legs apart, roughly, all so he could shove his face between your legs. His nose prodded your clothed entrance, making you moan softly, and a low growl seemed to have started to rumble deep within him. Never had you felt this affected by anyone, every single one of his movements had your skin on fire, your senses alert, and especially now, as his tongue dragged over the wet spot on your underwear, making you swear under your breath.

By the time you registered the movement, Chris had already torn your underwear apart, the thing reduced to shredded scraps that he simply threw on the floor, looking almost offended that the garment had been on you in the first place. His gaze fixed on your core, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips as two of his fingers came to collect your essence, spreading it all over your slit.

“So fucking wet”, his fingers moved from your entrance to your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that had you whimpering under his touch. “Who made you this wet?”

“You did–” Your words caught in your throat when his fingers moved down again.

“Who?” He shoved two of his digits into you, the wetness between your legs letting them enter you with ease. The sudden intrusion had you throwing your head back, curling your toes, and you couldn’t help but moan at the feel of his fingers moving in and out of you, deliciously dragging against your walls.

“You, Chris!” His tongue swiped over your clit, and as soon as he tasted you, an almost animalistic groan escaped his throat. 

His mouth was relentless, kissing and licking your clit while his fingers fucked you open. Time and space slipped between your fingers, all thoughts in your brain disappeared as your mind filled only with Chris and his fingers and his tongue and the sounds he made. If him eating you out and fingering you felt like this, you couldn’t even fathom how it’d be like when he fucked you, but you were certainly more than ready to find out.

Two fingers turned into three, that later turned into four, stretching you open to your limits while his tongue on your clit coaxed the lewdest sounds to come out of your lips. The most alluring part of it all, though, was his eyes, staring deep into yours. It was almost as if he was finally getting his payback for all the times you had stared back at him in the past, like he was trying to remind you, to shove in your face, just who was the predator and who was the prey.

And it made you feel warm, really warm. Sweat collected on the back of your neck as his fingers stretched you open and his tongue worked you up. A low, constant growl rumbled from him, you could feel the vibrations on your thigh that rested on his shoulder, and you could’ve sworn it had your whole bed vibrating with it. All you could do under his touch was moan and pant and whine, completely unable to form any coherent sentences when he had his mouth on you.

Your orgasm hit you hard, your walls spasmed repeatedly around his fingers, and your whole body shook with your release. The onslaught of sensations had tears pricking your eyes, had you struggling to get air into your lungs. The fact that your upper body was still covered by his hoodie probably added to that slight feeling of suffocation as warmth continued to spread all over your body.

Chris finally pulled his fingers out of you, and he brought them to his mouth to lick them clean, savouring the taste of you on his tongue with a deep growl. Attaching his lips to your thighs, he peppered them with kisses, licks, and bites, leaving purple splotches on your skin, mumbling to himself–the words falling against your skin, vaguely sounding like ‘so pretty, so, so pretty, so pretty, my pretty girl, gonna make you feel so good, gonna stuff you full, pretty, pretty’.

When he was satisfied with the art he left on your thighs he shuffled so he could kneel between your legs again. “Off”, Chris tugged on the hem of your hoodie, pulling it off of you in one swift motion, making your body bounce a bit when you fell back onto the bed as soon as the garment was off. “Fuck… Have you been wearing my clothes like this all the time?” His hands dragged all the way from your neck, down your breasts, your belly, and you could see his eyes taking you in, roaming all over your naked form as you laid under him.

“Only when–” Your words caught in your throat when his fingers started to tease your nipples, when you noticed his eyes were absolutely fixed on your chest. Chris seemed to be completely enthralled by the sight in front of him, by your sensitive skin under his fingertips, by the sounds he was coaxing out of your mouth with his fingers working your chest. 

Swallowing, and after taking a deep breath, you got enough clarity in your mind to speak again. “Only when I want to feel like you’re the one warming me up”, there was a permanent blush on your face, it had made its home there as soon as his mouth connected to your heat earlier, so letting out one of your deepest secrets hardly changed your outer state.

Chris’ gaze snapped up from your chest to lock eyes with you, and you felt your breath catching in your throat again. You had never seen his eyes looking this dark. He had the prettiest brown eyes you’d ever seen, but right now his pupils almost completely engulfed that warm brown of his, leaving only black behind. With one final lick of his lips, his mouth found yours, kissing you deeply, hungrily. You’d admit that during your time living here, you had wondered many times how his lips would feel, how’d it be if he kissed you. They looked soft, plump, and now that you finally got a taste you were sure you wanted to have them on you as many times as possible, for as long as possible.

Taking your lower lip between his teeth, Chris moved away from you, eliciting a whimper to escape from your mouth once he released you. He got rid of his joggers, and his cock stood tall and proud between his legs. Fluid leaked from his tip–a lot of fluid–clear and thick. He collected some of it in his palm, coating himself thoroughly before he finally wrapped his fingers around his length, pumping it. 

You propped yourself on your elbows, trying to get a better view, and you were completely captivated by the sight of his head popping out of his fist as he jerked himself, subconsciously licking your lips while you stared. He was bigger, girthier, than any regular human you’d seen, much less fucked. Quite honestly, it was slightly intimidating, but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the only thoughts in your mind right now were Chris and his fucking werewolf cock.

In one swift movement, Chris took a hold of your hips and pulled you further down on the bed, making you yelp. Your upper body fell back on the mattress with the motion, and he pushed your thighs together, moving them towards your chest. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he spread saliva over his palm before he wrapped his fingers around his length and coated himself in it–not like he needed it, since clear fluid continued to constantly leak from his tip.

“You look so good like this… You’re so fucking gorgeous”, bringing your legs towards him, he let them rest on his chest. His tip brushed your thighs, right where your supple flesh met, close to your core but not making contact with it, making you shudder as you felt his slick on your skin. “So soft, too”, Chris eased himself between your thighs with a satisfied groan, and your walls clenched around nothing while he held your legs in place and his hips started to thrust back and forth. “Even here, especially here. All mine to enjoy…”

Even if he was not actively stimulating you, this was quite possibly one of the most arousing things someone had ever done to you. The sight of his tip poking between your legs, the feel of his hips against your skin, all added to the look on his face as he looked down at you like you were his meal had you moaning softly, and even whining a bit.

“Fuck, I can almost taste how horny you are… Your scent’s everywhere. So fucking delicious”, his pace picked up, his hips collided against you with force as he fucked your thighs. Not only was it the sound of wet skin against wet skin, but also the feel of him hitting the back of your thighs that had you grabbing handfuls of the bedsheets, that had your whole body feeling tingling with need.

“Chris, please…” You weren’t even sure yourself what you were begging for, but as you stared back into his eyes you felt the urge to beg, so you did.

He pushed your thighs apart with force, and one of his hands took a hold of your hip, angling you just how he needed you to be, just how he wanted you to be, while the other took a hold of his cock, bringing close to your heat to tease your clit with his tip. The contact of his bare skin against yours had your breath catching in your throat, and Chris had a similar reaction as he stared at his cock brushing over your folds.

You knew he was clean, you two had gone to one of those pop-up clinics with Changbin around a month ago since he wanted some moral support after a scare. You’d gotten tested for the heck of it, just as did Chris, both coming up negative, and neither of you had been with anyone after–not like you could think too much about it anyway, you were so far gone you would’ve probably let him do anything to you without any second thought, because you wanted him to do those things, at this point, you felt like you needed him. Badly.

When his length started to make its way into your core, slowly stretching your walls, you truly got to feel his size. You were dripping, as was he–his cock still covered in the mix of his saliva and his slick–and he had prepped you with his fingers, but it was almost nothing compared to this. Bringing a hand to your core, you started to rub circles on your clit, trying to get yourself to relax.

“You’re doing well, baby. So good for me…” He was half way in, and you could hardly breathe. One of his hands moved to tweak your nipple, the stimulation coupled with the one of your fingers on your clit helped ease some of that sting you could feel between your legs.

“C–Chris”, you whimpered softly, looking him in the eyes. 

Chris was an alpha, you knew that already, but as you your eyes found his you were able to understand part of his nature. Not because he looked dominant, or lustful, or borderline animalistic, but because he looked at you like he wanted to protect you, to comfort you. Even if he surely wanted to fuck you into oblivion, the need to provide comfort to you was clearly overpowering that need to mount you.

“Shh… It’s okay. You’re a brave girl, I know you can take what’s yours”, with one final push of his hips he finally bottomed out.

Your fingers moved away from your clit as you exhaled–shit, you hadn’t even realised you had been holding your breath. Chris’ hands came to rest on your thighs, dragging them up and down in soothing motions. You felt impossibly full, completely stretched to your limits–had he been any bigger you doubt you would’ve been able to take him in at all.

“Fuck, so tight and warm…” His fingers came to toy with your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. A low growl resonated in his chest, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he licked his lips while he threw his head back to enjoy the feeling of your walls wrapped snugly around him. “I’ll fuck you so good, pretty. I’ll make you all mine”.

You took a deep breath, and your eyes found his once he finally opened them to look at you again. You were still slightly breathless, but that didn’t seem to overpower the determination in your voice. “Do it, then. Fuck me good, Christopher”.

As soon as the words left your mouth, it was as if something snapped within him. The comforting, caring look left his eyes completely, replaced by an animalistic, dark look. When his thumb found your clit, rubbing precise circles on it, and his hips pulled back, only to snap back into you almost immediately, starting a fast, hard pace, you couldn’t help but cry out. It was a lot, a lot but somehow not enough at the same time. 

Your walls adjusted quickly, the harsh sound of his hips hitting your skin made you dizzy, and it was almost like you could feel him in your throat whenever he thrusted all the way in. If you ever thought you had been fucked hard in your life, that had been nothing compared to the way Chris was fucking you now. 

His fingers dug on the skin of your thigh, you could already feel bruises forming under his hold, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was having his hands on you, having his body over you, and having his cock fuck you open.

His thumb never left your clit, and before you could even register it building, your release hit you, making him growl at the feeling of your walls pulsating around him as he kept pounding into you. “So good for me, love. You’re taking me so fucking well. Can’t wait to fill you to the brim”.

Barely giving you time to catch your breath, Chris pulled out of you to take a hold of your waist, swiftly flipping you on your stomach, so he could pull your hips up for your lower body’s weight to rest on your knees. “Look at these hips, fuck…”

He pushed his cock into you again, taking the air away from your lungs as he resumed his relentless pace. “So fucking perfect… So breedable and ready for me”.

The hold his hands had on your hips was firm, strong, his fingers dug on your skin, and the fullness of your flesh gave him plenty of leverage to grip you tightly and push you back to meet his thrusts. “You’ll carry my pups so well, love. So fucking well. You’re so fucking perfect”.

You could barely keep your upper body propped up on your elbows, grabbing handfuls of the sheets to keep yourself mildly grounded. You honestly couldn’t do anything other than moan and whine and whimper his name. His hand sneaked around your hip to rub circles on your clit. You were sensitive from your previous orgasms still, added to the stretch of his monster cock, his fingers on that bundle of nerves between your legs had you almost seeing stars as soon as he started to stimulate it.

The sudden sting between your legs brought your senses back to reality, only enough to remember what alpha males experienced when they were going through their rut, something you had read once, and when you’d asked Chris about it he had blushed profusely and walked away from you, leaving you hanging.

“Chris!” You whimpered, feeling the extra stretch steadily growing within your walls.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, I know you can”, his fingers on your clit sped up impossibly faster, rubbing you for a while, building your release once again only for you to finally come crashing down.

His hips stuttered with the feel of your walls spasming around him, and by the way your walls stretched around his length, by the way his knot kept catching at your entrance as it grew, you figured he was getting close to his own climax. Chris leaned over you, with his chest against your back and his hand pressed your lower belly, lightly gripping your soft skin, he whispered in your ear. “Take my knot, baby. I know you can take it in your perfect little cunt. I’m gonna stuff you full of my pups soon and you’ll take it all, yeah?”

“Y–yes…” Your voice was hoarse, barely even loud enough for yourself to hear, but Chris heard you. There was no way he wouldn’t hear you when he was so close to you, when you might as well had been one and the same at this very moment. A low, drawn out growl reverberated against your back when he finally came, when he finally shoved his knot as deep as he could within your walls for his seed to fill you up.

It felt like he was coming for an eternity, his cum spurted endlessly from his cock while he rubbed his face on your shoulder, your neck, your back, mumbling ‘mine, all mine, my pretty girl, all for me…’ nonstop, mumbling the words like he didn’t even need to think about them, like it was all he could focus on while he filled you to the brim. A ringing broke free in your ears, your whole body ached and you felt truly stuffed completely full by the time Chris finally stopped coming.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he manoeuvred your bodies, taking special care to not let his knot pull too much while you moved. He laid you both on your side, this position allowed you to feel less of that pulling sensation between your legs, leaving only a dull ache that seemed to ease the longer you spent laying there in his arms. Even if you were achy and in a bit of pain, you couldn’t help but feel immensely satisfied, oddly proud of yourself after taking this much.

Chris pressed pecks on your shoulder, just as he caressed the soft skin of your lower belly while he whispered words of encouragement on your skin–‘you took me so well, baby. So, so well, I’m so lucky, you’re so good to me…’ He did this for a while, a while of his lips trailing kisses from your shoulder to your neck and back again, a while of goosebumps rising on your skin wherever he touched. His soothing, caring motions made your eyelids heavy, almost lulling you to sleep.

“I’m sorry, baby…” Chris mumbled against the skin of your shoulder, pulling you back from that semi-asleep state you were falling into.

You sought his arm, gently caressing him, and you felt goosebumps of his own raise under your touch. “Why are you apologising?” 

“For… For having you go through this”, he sounded apologetic, ashamed, even, and you didn’t like it one bit.

You scoffed, almost offended. “Don’t let it get to your head, babe, but this is probably the hottest sex I’ve ever had”.

Chris laughed, incredulous. “Fuck, I don’t know who’s crazier here, me or you”, he was starting to sound more like his every day self, and it made you smile. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy, just how you always felt whenever you spent time with him.

“Clearly me. I’m the one who begged a fucking werewolf to fuck me”, you chuckled, as did Chris.

A comfortable silence settled between you two, you took his hand in yours, bringing it close to your mouth so you could press kisses on his palm, his fingers, all while he kept kissing your shoulders, your neck… A comfortable silence spent just cuddling each other, enjoying each other’s warmth and each other’s company.

You were silent for a while, until a question popped in your head suddenly, and curiosity wouldn’t let you just keep it to yourself. “Isn’t it too soon for you to start your rut? I remember you telling me about the previous one, it wasn’t that long ago, only a handful of months, no?”

“It was supposed to start later this month, which is why I was still in the house…” During his last rut, Chris had left the flat for a few days to stay at one of the vacant flats in the building–something he and the rest could do thanks to an arrangement Changbin had with his parents–that was actually how you came to know about ruts in the first place. 

Burying his face in your neck, Chris inhaled deeply, letting out a content sigh right after. “Since my rut was so close, I guess your ovulation triggered it”, he chuckled, but his body suddenly tensed. He removed his hand from your hold so he could lay his palm flat on your lower belly, and when he spoke he sounded slightly panicked. “Shit… Fuck, I’ll get you the morning after pill”.

That made you laugh, loudly. “Are you for real? After all that talk about breeding me and me carrying your pups?”

“That’s… It’s a biological thing, okay?” Embarrassment clung to his voice, and it made you chuckle softly. “I’m on my rut, of course all the wolf wants is to breed you. I mean, I can’t blame him, look at these hips, fuck…” He took a hold of your hip, the soft flesh dipped under his hold when he gripped it tightly. When he finally released it, he caressed the area.

“But I… Uh… I haven’t even taken you on a date yet! We can’t have children like this”, he tapped his fingers on your hip, just as his lips resumed their motions, pressing soft pecks on your shoulder.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea either”, sure, it was hot while you fucked, but now that you can actually think like a person you knew he was right, and you decided to come clean. “Anyway, just so you know, I’m on birth control. The one that makes you ovulate still apparently”, you chuckled softly, and you felt Chris’ body relax behind you.

Chris hummed against your skin. “Lucky me… You do smell so good. You always do, but fuck, this week… Unbearable. Had me hard most of the time, could barely hide it. Can’t believe you didn’t even notice, it’s not exactly easy to hide…”

“I can’t believe you’ve been fucking scenting me all week”, you chuckled.

“Babe, don’t think ill of me, but I started scenting you a month after you moved in…” 

You blinked a few times, and you wished you could look him in the eyes right now. “What? Why?”

He mumbled something against your skin, something you couldnʼt quite catch. “What was that?”

Chris sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing you further into him. “I said… I couldn’t stand when you came home smelling of other men… I couldn’t stand thinking of them doing things with you, to you, that I wished I could do…”

A blush spread over your cheeks, and you were honestly unable to say anything other than a barely audible ‘oh…ʼ

“So, yeah. I’ve, uh… I’ve liked you for a long time, if you couldn’t tell…”

Slowly, you noticed how his knot started to deflate, and his seed started to pour out of you and onto the mess of clothes under you. “Shit… My laundry”, you chuckled, honestly not caring much about having to wash another load. “I like you, too, Chris. A lot”.

He hummed, further burying his face in the back of your neck as his knot deflated completely, allowing you to move freely again. “I can’t believe you had your clothes here on your bed like this, fuck… Almost gave me a heart attack”.

“Why?” 

Chris propped himself on an elbow, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before he moved over you and off of the bed. “Because, pretty baby”, he stretched his limbs, groaning a bit, giving your eyes the opportunity to roam every single defined muscle on his body. A sight that you really appreciated. “With your scent as sweet as it was, and you wearing my hoodie, it was almost like you had prepared a pretty little nest for me to fuck your brains out in”.

You had completely forgotten about nests and what they meant to wolves, and you felt heat immediately come to your face, blushing profusely. “Oh…”

“Subconsciously, it’s almost like you did”, Chris chuckled, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “Stay here in your pretty nest, little one. I’ll prepare something for you while I can still think like a man. I don’t think I’ll be able to when my rut hits me fully. Need to keep hydrated and well fed so you can take me this well each time”.

Author’s notex2: so, as i added in the note at the beginning, as of 31/03/2023 this work was re-edited to better reflect my current writing style. i decided to update this post instead of posting it again because i just didn’t want the old version still around lol, but if you want it back, let me know. i saved it and might consider posting it separately for nostalgic value.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2022-2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback is always welcome :)

[marvelobsessed134]

Package delivered

A/n: Back again with more Nat smut because I love her and I am down bad soooo yeah enjoy!

Pairings: Masculine!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Warnings: smut, strap on use, degradation, rough sex, reader wears a maid outfit lol, dom!natasha, sub!reader, squirting, and I think that’s it let me know if I forgot any.

Summary: you and your girlfriends special package as arrived and you have some much needed fun.

It was just a normal afternoon in your small home in the outskirts of New York City when the doorbell rang. You told Nat you’d answer it, right when she was about to get up. The assassin’s eyes were trained on the screen since the New York Giants were playing against the Miami Dolphins. Of course, her being a big Giants fan she has to watch this. However you’re a Dolphins fan so the two of you butt heads all the time about what team is better but it’s all in good fun.

You’re not as invested as she is, you only picked the dolphins because of their name and the cute dolphin logo. You opened the door to find a medium sized cardboard box. Immediately you were filled with excitement and you felt your panties getting wet at the knowledge of what’s inside that box. You picked it up before closing and locking the door, skipping into the living room happily.

“Oh Natty…” you cooed. She looked at you, taking her eyes off the game before asking, “What is it, babe?”

You held the box in the air, “It’s here!”

You saw her eyes go darker and her demeanor shifting. “Oh, our special stuff is here?”

You nodded and jumped up and down before sitting on her lap, pecking her on the lips.

“Can we open it?” You asked.

“Sure, baby of course. Been waiting for this for months.” Long story short you and your girlfriend looked through a sex toy website and got a couple things. A couple sexy costumes for you and a strap for Natasha to wear. You’ve never really had experience with a strap but you’re definitely open to it.

The redhead used her pocket knife to cut through the tape and open the box. Inside were a bunch of packages for the costumes and she took them all out before quickly closing the box.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“It’s a surprise, detka. There’s a reason I ordered this on my own.” She chuckled.

That made you more excited. You didn’t know what it looked like, how big it was…

Your eyes drifted down to the costumes. They consisted of,

A sexy maid

A sexy nurse

A sexy cop

And a sexy Harley Quinn outfit that was just labeled as a ‘Jester Girl’ to avoid copyright or whatever. The two of you love to act out cheesy porn scenarios and these are the perfect things to do it with. Minus the Harley one because Natasha is a big DC fan and just wants to see her girl in a Harley getup. Can you blame her?

“So, which one do I try on?” You asked.

Natasha scoped over the costumes before her eyes landed on the maid outfit. “This one for sure. You’d make a dirty little maid.”

You chuckled, “Okay. Should I go put it on now?”

“Oh yes please baby.” And with that you walked into your shared bedroom and put on the outfit. It has a short, black velvet skirt with white lace trim and a small apron, a matching crop top with puff sleeves and white detailing.

The skirt was short and you could see your white, cotton panties through them. Natasha loved when you wore white panties for some reason. Something about how innocent it looks.

You took a deep breath before walking out of the doorway and yelling, “Can I come out now?”

“Yes.” Nat called back and you walked down the hall and into the living room. Her eyes were immediately glued to your body and she bit her lip.

“Well, do you like it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes.

“Oh definitely. Give me a twirl baby.” She demanded and you did as you were told.

“Fuck.” She muttered under her breath.

“Nat, I know we’re supposed to do the whole roleplay thing but I’m so horny I need you now.” You whined.

The redhead looked amused at that, “Well then, you’ll be pleasantly surprised with my new cock.”

“Get down on your knees baby.” And you got on your knees, right in front of her crotch. You could see the bulge through her pants. You watched as she undid them before dropping them and her boxers off, revealing the pretty large strap. It was about 7 inches.

Eyes widening, you said, “I don’t know- how is this going to fit in me? I don’t know if I can take it.”

“Oh, you’ll take it. Now, are you gonna suck my dick or not?” So, you quickly got to work by first licking up to the top then taking the whole thing in your mouth. You began to suck her cock while she was sitting back still watching the game.

“Yeah, let’s go!” She cheered.

“Natty?” You asked. You wanted to see if she was enjoying this too. Not just you.

“No talking, slut. Suck my cock.” The Russian said sternly. Your lips parted in shock before obeying her. Fuck, you loved sucking it. It got you even wetter than before.

You moved your head all the way down, taking it at the back of your throat which made you gag. “Oh yeah, look at you choke on my cock.” She smirked.

After awhile, your jaw was tired and Natasha could tell so she grabbed your hair and pulled your head up. She saw the drool dripping from your mouth down to your breasts and the string of saliva connecting you with the strap.

“Tsk, such a dirty maid. Come on up here and lay down for me.”

You laid on the couch and your girlfriend pulled your panties down. “Looks like someone made a mess.” She chuckled before diving into your pussy, eating you out like you were her last meal.

“Oh! Oh god!” You moaned.

Her tongue flicked on your clit before going back in between your folds. “Mmm Nat.” You moaned again before feeling you coming closer and closer to your finish.

“You’re close, I can feel it, cum for me sweetheart.” And you did, crying out.

“Good girl. Hm, you think you’re ready for my dick?”

You nodded furiously.

“Hmmm I don’t know, this pussy’s pretty tight.” She teased as she started to slowly pump two fingers in and out of you.

“No, please, I can take it. I want your big cock so bad.” You moaned desperately.

So, she lined up to your entrance before pushing in. Your eyes rolled back, you whimpered as you felt it stretch your walls.

“Fuck you’re so so tight,” The assassin groaned before starting to thrust into you.

Your brows furrowed and you gripped onto her shoulders. “Mmm faster.”

“What do we say?”

“Please.”

“You want me to go faster baby? I’ll show you faster.” And she quickened her pace, now pounding into you without mercy.

“Yes! Yes! Oh yes!” You cried.

“Oh my god you’re so beautiful.”

“I love you natty.”

“Fuck, I love you too Y/n.”

And as she kept hitting your g spot you clenched around her before squirting all over the toy and the leather couch.

“Holy fuck that’s hot. I didn’t know you were a squirter.” She pulled her strap out before licking up everything. Then, she forced you on your knees again.

“For a maid, you’ve made quite the mess. Clean it up.” Natasha demanded and you sucked her cock once again, licking up your own cum and arousal.

The redhead leaned back, wiping some sweat from her forehead. “Fucking love this day.”

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Three - First 'Date'

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

1.2K

Series Masterlist

Party Princess's Potential Prince

F1 fans are always delighted to see the Party Princess and her year's of friendship with Fernando Alonso. Every Monaco Grand Prix the two greet each other like old friends.

They were seen embracing upon the Princess's arrival to the paddock. Most fans thought nothing of it. It was normal for the pair. Ever since she first met him at ten years old.

Although interactions between the Party Princess and Alonso have been nothing but platonic, some if us are left to wonder if there is something more going on?

Princess Y/N is known for the string of lovers she had. Here at The Monaco Press, we have been lucky enough to interview some of these lovers. When asked for a comment, several of these lovers agreed that their is a high likelihood that the Party Princess has found herself a much older man.

The Monaco Press will bring you the latest on this story as it unfolds.

"Why the hell are you in my apartment?"

Prince Henri walked around the apartment. No matter how large he knew it was, the mess and the clutter made everything feel so much smaller. He kicked away a dirty, sparkly dress. "Can I not come and visit my baby sister?"

"You could have given me some warning," she said as she picked up the dress and the clothes that surrounded it.

Henri shook his head. "Get dressed. We're going out to dinner."

But she sat down on the couch instead. Henri rolled his eyes and stepped over the mess, walking into her bedroom. "Hen, piss off," she called over her shoulder. "I don't want to go to dinner with you."

A dress hit the back of her head. She grabbed it from the back of the sofa and held it out in front of her. It wasn't like the normal dresses she found herself in in the middle of the night, which were far too short low cut. It was black, went down to her knees, and covered up her arms.

"Seriously? Henri, I'll look like a nun."

"I don't care. Do I need to get you shoes as well?"

She glared and marched past him, into her bedroom. She slammed the door shut, quickly got dressed and ran a brush through her hair. She grabbed some flats that matched the dress and pulled them on.

When she was finished she opened the door and stepped out. "Jewellery," Henri said, turning her back around and pushing her into her room.

Her jewellery was all expensive and gorgeous. She picked out some stud earring that, although they didn't look like a lot, were worth more than her rent. Her necklace was simple, too, and she didn't bother with bracelets. Checking herself in the mirror, she walked out of her room. "Good enough for you, your highness?" She asked with a mocking bow.

Henri offered her his arm. She reluctantly took it and followed Henri out of her apartment.

It was a surprise to find no chauffeur waiting for them. Henri opened the car door for her before slipping into the drivers seat. "I've booked out the entire restaurant," he said as he began driving through the streets of Monaco. "Don't leave until you've given him a chance. Please."

"Wait, him?" She suddenly cried. "Henri, I thought we were going for dinner! You can't just set up a date for me and not tell me!"

Henri tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "I can and I have," he said.

She huffed as she sank down into her seat. "Who is it?"

"Charles Leclerc."

Charles Leclerc. She had only met him once before. He and his brother were meeting the Monaco family for some super formal interview. Charles had looked at her for most of the interview, and constantly brought up his girlfriend. It was big headed of him to assume she wanted him to the point where he mentioned his girlfriend every five minutes and she'd decided then that she didn't like him.

"Why?"

Henri slightly turned his head towards her while still keeping his eye on the road.

"Why have you set me up with Charles Leclerc?"

Henri shrugged his shoulders, and she could have strangled him. "You need good PR and he needs good PR. It just makes sense."

For the rest of the journey to the restaurant she was silent. She didn’t want to talk to Henri, not when he was such an ass.

When he parked up outside of the restaurant, she still didn't move. "Y/N, come on," Henri huffed. "Stop acting like a child," he said and opened his car door.

If there were paparazzi around, they definitely saw her getting dragged out of the car by the future king. "Henri! Stop!" She cried as she tried to fight her brother off. But he was bigger and stronger than her.

Her had her inside of the restaurant and sat down at a table in no time. She scowled, arms folded over her chest as she stared at the empty seat across from her.

"You have my permission to do whatever it takes to keep her here," Henri whispered to the hostess as he left the restaurant.

Keeping her there meant serving her drinks and bread. Twenty minutes later, the black Ferrari with the white and red stripe appeared.

Dressed in a black suit, Charles walked into the restaurant. He looked incredibly handsome, but that wasn't what she was thinking when she saw him.

"You're late."

"Sorry about that, chérie."

"Don't call me that," she spat as another drink was placed in front of her. "You know this isn't a real date, right? You know Henri only set this up so that we look good."

Charles nodded his head. "I'm aware," he said, playing with the rings on his fingers.

"Then why are you here? To waste my time?"

Charles shook his head. Taking his wine glass, he lifted it to his lips and took a quick sip. He placed it back down and cleared his throat.

"Your brother and I have been talking," he began. "Because of my recent trouble with the media after a messy break up, and because of your constant PR blunders and messy nights out, Henri and I thought it would be a good idea if you and I 'dated'. That way we could pull the media's attention away from our fuck ups and onto our seemingly perfect relationship."

She let out a dry laugh. "Do you really think that'll work?"

Charles shrugged his shoulders. "There's only one way to find out."

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something just outside of the restaurant window. "Let me prove it to you," he said, reaching for her hand with a blissed out smile on his face.

When she saw the flash of a camera, she placed her hand in his and painted a practiced smile on her face. Her laugh, too, was practiced, perfected after years of unwillingly being in the spotlight.

"Do you think it'll look like too much if I drove you back to your apartment after this?" Charles asked as the food was placed in front of them.

She rolled her eyes and just hoped the paparazzi didn't see. "Nothing is too much for the party princess," she spat.

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[shiftingparadise]

I don’t know if your busy rn but there is a shortage in FEITAN x readers books and ya girl is dying. I know your inbox is like huge probably but anyways.. IF YOU DO TYSM AND IF YOU DONT TYSM FOR READING ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😻😻😻🥲🥲🫶🫶🫶🫶

Sorry it took so long. I hope you like this :) In this story, Feitan is similar to my others works. So he isn’t particularly very kind in the beginning. I’m working on your requests now, so if you have one don’t be afraid to send me a message or to ask one! Keep in mind that I have a couple left to do, so I’m only asking for some patience :3.

If you enjoy my stories it would be really great if you could buy me a coffee with the link in my bio 😇. HOWEVER DON’T FEEL OBLIGED TO DO SO. I’m only saying this because someone did a week ago and it felt really nice 🥹. I really enjoy writing for you guys either way 🤍✨

PS: I wanted to write another part of this, let me know if I should :)

Warnings: smut and angst.

Word count: 3455

“Be careful, don’t let your heart fool you”, my father took another sip from his coffee, “You’ve got to be sure he isn’t after our money”. “How can you say something like that?”. “I only want what’s best for you. You know that”. “I know him. He would never do anything to hurt me”, you slowly stood up. For some reason, your father’s office never seemed so small before. “Fine”, my father sighed, “Invite him over for dinner”.

You closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks as you remembered the conversation with your father. You didn’t know. You really didn’t. How could you know that he was a Spider? That he was only playing a part? Right, in hindsight everything did seem a little fishy. The way he was suddenly there when you needed a shoulder to cry on. Or the way his name didn’t seem to truly ‘fit’ him. Jacob. He didn’t look like a Jacob at all. How could you be this dumb? Life isn’t like the fairytales and you were an idiot to think it could be.

“Where is she?”.

You couldn’t help but shiver. That voice used to be so familiar. So warm and soft.

“Boss told us to keep her in here”, the blonde that stood in front of the door answered. “It’s nice in there, Fei. She has a nice bed and lots of books”, a misguidingly soft voice answered.

The girl seemed so sweet, with her big glasses and her soft eyes. You couldn’t understand how she could be part of a gang like this.

“I don’t care”, Feitan coldly replied before walking past his comrades.

Your stomach started to turn. You couldn’t look at him. You wanted to keep your memories clean from any stains; to remember him the way you knew him. Kind and soft-hearted.

“Look at me”. “No”, you softly answered as you kept your gaze locked on the ground. “I said look at me”, his hands roughly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t want to”, you almost whispered as you tried not to cry. “Look at me”.

You flinched as you felt the tip of his knife against your cheek. The same place he used to kiss you before wishing you goodnight.

You looked up at him with glossy eyes, not daring to say anything. “Are you scared?”, his cold eyes pierced through your skull. “Yes”, you softly agreed while studying his face. He was nothing like the man you used to know.

His facial features were so cold and distant. As if he was frozen in ice for hundreds of years. You couldn’t see half of his face, as it was covered with the coat he was wearing. It was decorated with a skull, making him even more morbid.

“Good”, he roughly pulled away as he lowered his knife to your throat. “Why are you doing this?”, your chin high. “Why?”, he repeated the question while once again lowering his knife. Letting the cold metal rest just beneath your collarbone. Your breathing got heavier as fear’s grip tightened around your body.

You didn’t know he wasn’t the head of this organization, that this wasn’t his plan. To you, he was the man with all the answers. The one who planned this whole scheme.

“If you want money-“, you were cut short by the back of his hand. “Only speak when I tell you to”.

He wasn’t that tall, but the way he hit you made him seem like the devil. Even though you couldn’t see, you knew there was this cruel grin on his face. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed.

“Too hard”, his thumb grazed over your cheek. “Or you’re just too fragile”, he lowered his collar to lick up the drop of blood on his thumb. “Don’t cry”, he kneeled before you, “We’re going to have a lot more fun than this”. “Fei?”, the sweet-looking girl suddenly stood next to him. “What, Shizuku?”, Feitan sighed before standing up again. “Boss said not to hurt her, remember?”, her finger resting on her lip. “Tsk”, he clicked his tongue before leaving. “Don’t worry”, the girl cheerfully smiled, “We only need some kind of code. I’m sure your father will give it to us soon”. “Code?”, your eyes widened, “H-he won’t give it!”, you hastily got up from the bed you were sitting on. “Huh? He won’t?”, the girl widened her eyes.

You knew your father. He would never risk the nation’s, no the world’s, safety. Not even for his own daughter.

“You’re after the code for the nuclear weapons, right?”. “I guess… I don’t remember to be honest”, she looked down at the ground. “Listen, my father will never give that code. J-just ask our president-“. “But only your father knows that code, since he’s head of security”, the girl happily smiled, causing you to shiver. “Yo, Shizu”, the blonde angrily yelled from the door. “Huh?”, she looked behind her. “Shut up before you tell her our whole plan”. “Oh right”, she giggled before leaving.

——

“Get the girl, Phinks”, Feitan coldly sighed from behind your door.

You tucked your knees even tighter to your chest. You didn’t know what was going to happen. Were they going to kill you? Torture you?

“Get up”, Phinks roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you from the bed. “Let go!”, you tried to struggle, to break free from his grip. “You want me to get Feitan?”, he gritted his teeth. A threat he didn’t have to make twice.

You hastily stopped struggling, now following him into the main room of the abandoned building. The stones underneath your feet felt exceptionally cold, and the nightgown you were wearing didn’t really help to keep you warm.

“She’s freezing”, a voice too soft now greeted your ears, “Put this on her”.

You looked up to a tall figure. His hair was pitch black and there was this kind of cross tattooed on his forehead. He was an exceptionally good-looking man, but somehow his skin was just as cold-looking as Feitan. It didn’t match his kind voice at all.

“Here”, Phinks threw the coat at your feet. “I said put it on”, the dark-haired man smiled, “She can’t put it on when her hands are tied, can she? “Tsk”, the blonde picked up the coat before throwing it over your shoulders.

You scanned the room. There were about 10 people in the room. Some of them just looked evil, but others looked as innocent as a child. Especially a blonde-haired guy with big, green eyes.

“Your father won’t give us the code. Do you-”, the soft voice broke through your thoughts. “Who are you?“.

“Huh?”, you froze in fear as Feitan’s knife was once again pressed to the soft skin of your neck. You didn’t see him move. It felt as if he had just teleported to you.

“Tsk”, his eyes found yours, “How dare you interrupt boss?”. “Come now, Feitan”, the man now walked towards you, stopping before you. Without any warning, his fingers glided over your cheek, “You couldn’t contain yourself before, but you have to now”. Feitan immediately stepped away from you, discontent hidden in his eyes. “Feitan has a hard time holding himself back from… Fun”, the man smiled, “But it seems he did his best with you. I rarely get to see a hostage without any cuts or broken fingers”. “Lucky me”, you sarcastically answered while holding eye contact. “Yes, but keep in mind that luck doesn’t last forever”, he chuckled. “I’m Chrollo. Head of the Spiders”, he walked back to the stairs he was sitting on earlier. “My father isn’t going to give up the code. Not even for me”. “Yes, he made that very clear”, Chrollo replied. “Let me go and I promise my father will give you a generous reward”, your heart racing. “We have more than enough money. Besides, we can’t let you go. You know all of our names. Well… you’ll get to know them”. “What does that mean?”, you took a step back. “Feitan wanted you as a reward during this mission. So whether we’ll get the code or not, you’re not leaving”, Chrollo’s eyes glittered in the dark. “I-I don’t want to”, you started to panic. “Don’t care”, Feitan’s voice was only fuel to your fear. “From now on, you belong to Feitan”, Chrollo signaled Phinks to free your hands. “Keep the coat. I don’t think Feitan cares if you’re cold. You’ll be at least warm that way”, Chrollo spoke as if Feitan wasn’t there. “Right”, Feitan smirked. “At least get her some proper clothing, Fei”, Chrollo coldly looked at his Spider before dismissing everyone.

——

“Here”, Feitan threw a couple of bags on your bed the next day. “Proper clothes”, he leaned against the door.

After Chrollo dismissed everyone, Feitan took you with him to the house he was currently living in. It was a big and luxurious house. It wasn’t really decorated with furniture, only the necessary things like a couch, a dinner table, some paintings on the wall… And the room you were staying in was just as empty. There was a bed, a luxurious bathroom, and a big, walk-in closet that was empty of course.

“Proper clothes?”, your brows pulled together as you pulled a dress out of one of the bags. “This is a Prada dress?”. “I want you to look pretty”, Feitan looked up at the ceiling. “I’ll get you clothes every week. They won’t last long anyway”, his eyes now darted to yours.

Your stomach turned. You could only imagine what he was going to do to you.

“Wear this one for now”, Feitan slowly walked to your bed before handing you another bag. “For dinner. Hired some chef”. “I’m not hungry”, you clenched your jaw. “I don’t care”, he once again grabbed your jaw, “You’ll do as I say. Got it?”, his lips hovering next to your ear. “I’ve been kind until now, haven’t I? I behaved, so you’ll behave too”.

You didn’t answer, you just nodded in response.

“Good. Now put it on”, he leaned back. “N-now?”, you looked up at him with fear in your eyes. “Yes, want to see your body one last time before I have fun with it”. “What do you mean?”, you tried to keep your voice steady. “Put it on”, his cold gaze let you know his patience was running thin.

With shaking hands, you pulled out the nightgown you were wearing from when Feitan kidnapped you. You weren’t wearing anything underneath it, but that didn’t faze you. Feitan had seen your body many times by now. He used to place kisses all over it, making you feel like no one ever had before.

“This one?”, you covered your breasts with your arm. “Yes”, he got closer. You pulled out a beautiful, black dress from the back.

It wasn’t especially short, but it wasn’t long either. The fabric ended just above your knees. It was a tight dress until your belly, where it opened up like a flower. It was a beautiful dress, no doubt about it.

“I’ll close it”, Feitan guided you to a mirror before his hands glided along your waist.

His touch didn’t seem rough at all. It felt just as before.

“You like it?”, he took a step back when he zipped up the dress for you. “Hm”, you nodded in agreement. “Dinner’s at 7”, he cleared his throat before leaving you again.

——

You couldn’t eat. There was this lump in your throat that made it feel like you’d throw up if any kind of food entered your mouth.

“I thought sushi was your favorite”, Feitan was sitting on the other end of the table. “It is”, you hastily picked up some food, fearing what might happen if you didn’t eat. “It’s really good”, your eyes widened.

You didn’t realize how much your body needed some kind of fuel. You didn’t eat for at least 2 days now, and you only realized now how hungry you truly were.

“One of the best sushi chefs”, Feitan looked at the kitchen behind him where the chef was preparing more food. He seemed in distress, probably because Feitan made sure he wouldn’t tell a soul you were with him.

After dinner, Feitan guided you back to your room.

“Can I go to sleep?”, you softly asked as you sat down on your bed. “Sleep?”, he tilted his head, “No, it’s time for me to have some fun”. “Fun?”, your breathing started to fasten. “Fun”, his eyes lit up before roughly grabbing your arm and pulling you to another room.

There was nothing in the room except for a chair and a bed. Without any warning, he threw you on the bed and tied your wrists to it.

“What are you going to do?”, your eyes already glossy. “Whatever I want”, a knife in his hand as he slowly crawled on top of you. “I’ve wanted to take you like this since the first time we met”, his nose taking in the scent of your hair. “You know how hard it is to hold back when you’re this pretty? It was almost hard for me to finish at times because you were so boring… Always begging me to kiss you, to take you slow, … I hated it”.

You didn’t answer. There was nothing for you to say. Even when he showed some kindness earlier, you should’ve prepared yourself for this.

He swiftly cut the straps of your dress with his knife, causing it to slide down just beneath your breasts. “Stay still”, his knife firmly pressed against your throat as he noticed you were starting to kick your legs. “Please”, tears streamed down your cheek as he licked up a drop of your blood. “Don’t worry, you’re going to like this”, he looked into your eyes before cupping your cheek, “I’ll be rough, but I won’t be a monster. I know you’re body and when it’s ready for me. Even though you won’t admit it, I know you’ve been craving my touch. I saw it earlier when you were undressing in front of me… Your legs were rubbing against each other when I zipped up your dress. You only do that when you want me”.

Yes. No. Maybe. You knew he was right. Earlier… You wanted him, but you tried to push those thoughts away as much as you could. He wasn’t the man you knew. He was a psychopath, how could you want someone like him?

“Now, stay still”, his nails dug into the soft flesh of your waist as he pulled up your dress with the other. “Feitan, please”, another tear was streaming down your cheek. “Say it. Tell me you want me to stop”, his knee pushed your legs open as his digits hovered over your most sensitive spot. “I’ll stop if you do”, a devilish smirk in his eyes.

But you didn’t want him to. You didn’t care if he was going to be rough, or if he was even going to hurt you. You wanted him.

“See?”, he chuckled at a lack of answer. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’ve never been this wet for me”, he softly bit on your shoulder. You closed your eyes as you were still trying to fight yourself. “I asked you a question”, his hand wrapped around your throat as he bit your shoulder again. Only harder this time. “S-shit”, you cried out in pain. “I’m going to cover you in bitemarks for ignoring my question”, he loosened his grip around your neck while his fingers slowly entered you. “Fuck”, you arched your back as he left bite marks on your body.

You couldn’t deny it any longer. He made you feel good, better than he ever did.

“Tsk”, Feitan frowned when you came undone around his fingers, “Wasn’t expecting you to enjoy this”. “I-I’m not”, you avoided his gaze as your cheeks turned red. “Liar”, he softly hummed while undressing himself.

Your eyes were glued to his body. Now it was clear why he never took off his shirt.

“Who did that to you?”, you quietly whispered as you noticed his scars. For a second, his eyes widened while his lips were slightly parted.

There was this short-lived moment in his mind where he wanted to let you in and where he wanted you to care for him. An unwilling memory of your arms wrapped around him flashed before his eyes.

“Shut up”, his eyes went dark again, “Don’t talk”.

Afraid of being enchanted by your warm voice again, he thought it better not to hear your voice at all.

He didn’t ask if you were ready for him. It was unnecessary. By now, your legs are already wrapped willingly around his waist. “Feitan”, your eyes closed as his forehead was pressed against yours. “Don’t”, Feitan grunted as he got even rougher, “I don’t want you to enjoy this”.

That was a lie. He wanted you to, more than anything. It wasn’t his intention for you to enjoy this, and he surely didn’t want to leave you so perfectly. In his mind, he wanted to hurt you, to make you bleed, just as he did with all those before you. That’s what he enjoyed. Torture. Not this. This wasn’t like him, and it made him mad but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, more so, it would even make him feel bad about himself.

“Sorry”, your lips pressed against each other as a whisper left your chest. “Fuck”, he grunted in agitation.

He didn’t know what to do, but this didn’t feel right.

“Tell me”, he clenched his jaw at the realization of how soft he had gotten for you. “W-what?”, you looked to the side. “Tell me you want me, please”, his eyes were glued to a bitemark he left.

He couldn’t lie. The bruises looked so good on your body, but only because you enjoyed it. If he did something like that while you were crying, begging him to stop…

“I want you, Feitan”, your soft voice melted something inside him as if a fire was lit inside his heart. “Even now? Even when you see who I truly am?”.

“Even now”.

Without thinking twice, he cut the rope that was holding you down.

“Touch me. Like you used to”, he softly grabbed your wrist before placing your hand on the back of his head.

You obeyed as you softly tugged at his dark hair.

“I don’t want to take you slowly like I used to, Y/N”. “You don’t have to”, your legs tightened around his waist.

That was all he needed to hear. Without any hesitation, his lips crashed against yours.

“You feel so good”, your breathing got heavier as you could feel he was getting close. “Yeah?”, his voice low, “Want me to breed you?”. You hastily nodded as you could feel yourself getting closer to your own climax. “Really?”, he chuckled, “You never let me come inside you before. Always crying about being scared to get pregnant”. “P-please Feitan”, you arched your back. “Don’t worry. I’m going to fill you up this time, whether you want me to or not”.

Your legs now started to shake as you came undone around him.

“That’s it. Good girl”, Feitan grabbed your jaw, “Now look at me and beg”. “P-please Fei, want you to come inside me”. “Want me to put a baby in you? Making you mine forever?”. “P-please”.

Feitan couldn’t contain himself any longer. With heavy breaths and low grunts, he let his head rest against your shoulder.

“Never felt so good”, he slowly pulled out, before placing a soft kiss on the bitemark he left on your shoulder. “Hm”, you happily smiled.

He didn’t know why he decided to act cold again. Honestly, he hated himself for it, but there was something inside him. A feeling he never felt before. Was it fear? Was he scared that you were going to leave him? No. You couldn’t leave him. He kidnapped you and you had nowhere to go. It was something else. He knew you weren’t going to leave, but he was scared you were going to hate him for what he did. Or rather, for who he was. You didn’t know the real him.

“Don’t think this will happen again”, he coldly got up, “You won’t enjoy this next time”.

You lowered your eyes as you watched him put on his clothes.

“Can I-“.

“Go to your room and shower. I don’t care what you do for the rest of the night”, he clenched his jaw before leaving you alone.

[sunlightmurdock]

mav finding out about his daughter and bradley's affair in the worst way possible

hehehehe so I’m imagining it’s a night that she and Mav had a really big, really public argument. She was at the Hard Deck being fake flirty — fake it til you make it type confidence that Bradley can see straight through, but Mav can’t. Mav just thinks it’s dangerous.

And where does she go after Maverick embarrasses her in front of everyone?? Bradley’s place.

It’s a night that he had stayed in, and she’s supposed to still be out, so he’s confused when the pounding on his front door is revealed to be her.

“He’s insane! He’s actually fucking insane! I was just playing pool and he came over yelling about being careful and respecting myself and..” Bradley just watches as she ducks under his arm, letting herself into his house and starting to pace furiously around his living room. She’s wearing a fitted dress, it’s cute, but short.

He doesn’t need to ask who has upset her, he already knows. Rooster just swings the door shut behind him and lets her rant.

“He didn’t ever care about being a parent when I was a kid, who does he think he is? — Acting like he gets to tell me what to do now.” She growls angrily.

Just wearing a pair of sweat shorts, Bradley sits on the arm of his couch and waits for you to be done. It takes a while, but he doesn’t mind listening.

The story finishes abruptly, mainly because she has been staring at his bare chest and shoulders for long enough that her anger has faded and been replaced with something else entirely.

It’s one of the reasons she loves Bradley. His ability to get her mind off of things. And how good he is in bed.

He makes her cum on his tongue, his fingers and then his cock. First on the couch, then against the wall in his hallway, finally in his bed. It’s wild. She knows that she’ll be left with bruises on her thighs in the morning and it just spurs her on.

She begs him for more as he fucks her hard, facedown onto his mattress, and he just complies. And then, when she’s a whimpering, trembling mess afterwards, he brings her a damp cloth and tells her to hang tight while he gets her some water.

Bradley passes by the front window as the pounding at the door starts. He makes brief eye contact with Maverick and knows he can’t pretend to already be in bed. He opens the door gingerly.

“She didn’t come home tonight!” Maverick pushes past Bradley without warning, starting to pace furiously around the living room. Bradley pales. “We had a big fight, and maybe I was out of line — I know she’s not stupid enough to fool around with any of those guys, but— fuck, she hasn’t come home and I’m out of my mind. Should we call the cops?”

Bradley tears his attention away from your dress poking out from between his couch cushions. Your heels discarded on the floor. Your panties by the hallway door.

“Cops? — No.” Bradley decides quickly. “She’s… probably just cooling off at a friend’s house.”

“But what if—“ Maverick stops talking as he catches sight of the heels on the floor. He looks up and examines Bradley’s dishevelled hair and love-bitten neck. “Oh. Oh, you have company. I’m sorry, I’m just so worried. Could I call her from your phone? — She won’t answer if she knows it’s me.”

Bradley swallows, then shakes his head. “Just give her some time to cool off, Mav. She’ll be fine.”

“How could you possibly promise that —“ Maverick catches sight of the dress and stops berating the Lieutenant for just a moment. He squints, trying to piece together the familiarity. He looks between the shoes and the dress.

Cut to Maverick absolutely tearing Bradley’s place apart looking for her, finding her hiding in his closes in one of his shirts and all hell breaking loose.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Sugar and Spice: Part 1

(E.M. x Fem!Reader x S.H.) Part 2 Series Masterlist.

Summary: Steve has massive crush on you, Eddie’s childhood bestfriend who just came home from collage. The only problem is you despised him in highschool and he’s pretty sure Eddie’s in love with you.

Warnings: Eventual smut, pining, love triangle, no upside down, eventual steddie x reader, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, fluff, no use of Y/N so definitely a billion pet names. There’s not really any for this chapter, it’s mostly setting the scene for the rest of the story. Mentions of sex and some swearing. I will add additional warnings each chapter! But still my work is always 18+MNDI

A/N: Okay I found this in my docs and I was reading over it and got inspired to keep writing it. I’ve had this idea in my head for a long time about a Reader who has a kind of like pastel goth type of aesthetic. Like she plays D&D and loves horror but also really loves chick flicks and pink. She listens to Black Sabbath but then will turn around and listen to Blondie in the same 10 minutes. Collects Care Bears but has read every Anne Rice book. I feel like both Eddie and Steve would lose their minds over that. There will be no physical descriptions of reader besides the outfits she wears, which will be things like big chunky goth boots and fuzzy pink sweaters. Ngl it’s kinda self indulgent of me but I hope there’s others who can relate to her.🤭 divider I used is by: @firefly-graphics

Steve wasn’t obsessed with you, at least he tried to convince himself that was the case. He hadn’t seen you since you graduated and moved to the city. But ever since you’ve been back it’s like he sees you everywhere. You come into his work sometimes and rent horror movies, or on rare occasions you rent something totally cute and left-field like The Little Mermaid. You wore outfits that were somehow the hottest and cutest thing he’s ever seen at once, his favorite he’s ever seen you in was this short little black skirt and a pink button up cardigan that you replaced the buttons with little skulls all brought together by the big platform boots you’re usually wearing. That contrast just made him more infatuated with you. You were like sugar and spice wrapped up in one really beautiful girl.

But there were TWO major problems, one being that you hated him In highschool. He was an arrogant asshole who thought he was better than everyone, could do whatever he wanted and looked down on the kind of people you hung around. You were pretty quiet but outspoken and opinionated when you wanted to be, kept close to the few friends you had and always had your head in some kind of horror or vampire book that Steve would definitely not understand but would’ve totally listened to you talk about all day just to hear you talk about something you loved. He always thought you were pretty, even in highschool when you used to dress a lot more reserved. Mostly ripped jeans, the occasional Care Bears tee, and shirts of bands he didn’t know. He even asked you out once Junior year before he got with Nancy and you laughed in his face and said “yeah fucking right Harrington, good one” But now? You’re always wearing those little mini skirts, low cut tank tops, and ripped up fishnets. Steve literally feels like he can’t think around you.

Which brings him to problem number two…Eddie. You and Eddie are bestfriends and have been since middle school, he’s part of the reason you never liked Steve because of the way he and his friends treated Eddie. Even though Steve was never directly mean to YOU, his friends were and that was enough. But Steve and Eddie had a recently developed… acquaintanceship due to their mutual friendship with Dustin. It took some time and convincing but once they got past their preconceived notions of each other they were able to be civil. Eddie being in the group meant when you came back naturally you were integrated in as well. Which means Steve has seen you in an actual social setting multiple times now.

You think that would be great, right? Wrong. Eddie was constantly touching you. Holding your hand, putting his arms around your waist, you sitting IN HIS LAP. It drove Steve fucking crazy, especially because he knows that Eddie loves you and he feels just a little bad about it because he had actually started to really like Eddie and maybe even began to see him as a friend. But seeing him all over you drove him insane and made him have a bad taste in his mouth every time he heard his name. He was pretty sure you loved Eddie. The way you looked at him and the gentle way you handled him and spoke to him like he wasn’t the resident metalhead drug dealer but a giant teddy bear that needed to be hugged and cared for.

Steve would’ve given up in an instant if you said you were Eddie’s girl, but you always said you guys were bestfriends despite the fact that Eddie definitely called you his girl on multiple occasions to the entire group. You definitely had feelings for him. He could see it but there was also something keeping you from making it official and that gave Steve hope. Especially once you warmed up to him and started sitting on HIS lap sometimes. You would just come and plop down across his knees looking at him all sweet like it was the most casual thing and you didn’t just make his brain short circuit. You started calling him cute little pet names and kissing his cheek every time you saw him.

Again, these things would all be fantastic IF you didn’t do all the same things and more with Eddie. Every time you sat on Eddie’s lap he literally wanted to rip you off of him and kiss you right in front of Eddie’s smug face. He was always smirking at Steve over your shoulder because he knew Steve liked you. He confronted him about it last week when they were at the arcade with Dustin and Mike.

“So. You like her don’t you?” Eddie just asked him out of the blue. Steve looked at him with a confused look on his face not really registering what he meant at first “Huh? Like who?”

“Don’t play dumb man, you know who I’m talking about” Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes

“Why would you think she would ever like you back? You treated us like shit in highschool and just because she’s more confident and can stand to be in the same room as you, now you want her? Fuck that. She deserves better than that, she is so much more than how she looks.”

Steve was kind of taken back at first, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong “You don’t think I know that Munson? I don’t just like her because she’s hot. She also has this confidence and energy about her that’s just really attractive. She’s fucking funny and not afraid to be herself. She’s got that whole sugar and spice thing going on where she’s so sweet and gentle one second and the next she’s cussing like a sailor going off on these cute little tangents. I thought we established I’m not the guy I was in highschool anymore. I’m not some player trying to go through women. I like her.” he kind of didn’t mean to say ALL of that but it just kept coming out once he started talking about you he couldn’t help it.

“Okay I get it, you actually like her. Either way she’s never going to go for you, you aren’t even her type.” He grabbed the sleeve of Steve’s bright blue crew neck “I’ve never seen her be into a pretty boy like you, she likes dudes who look like they’re part of the lost boys clan or the dudes she sees on MTV.”

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes “Sooo, you then? If you love her so much then why aren’t you with her?” Eddie flushed and his face fell slightly “because man, she’s the most important person in my life. Imagine if we got together for real and then we broke up? Things wouldn’t be the same between us, I might lose her entirely”

“When you say ‘for real’ what does that mean?” Steve asked him, hoping it didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

“I mean we do a lot of couple things, we go on bestfriend dates, we are super affectionate with each other, we fuck sometimes, but both of us are scared if we decided to be together for real it would ruin it” Eddie shrugged like he didn’t just metaphorically punch Steve in the chest with that information.

“So what? Are you guys exclusive or what? Because if you’re not, I’m going to ask her out.” Steve just shrugged trying to play it off.

“Dude. Are you seriously going to ask out my girl after what I just said!?”

“Yeah, DUDE. You just said she wasn’t yours so is she or isn’t she?”

“Now that I finally have you around without Eddie I can ask the question I’ve been dying to ask, what’s the deal with you two? Are you like, together?” Robin suddenly asked you out of the blue.

Her and Nancy finally convinced you to have a girls day with them. You went and got mani pedis and picked up lunch so you could eat it back at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment while you watched some movies Robin got from work.

“I mean… Technically? No. You could say we are like bestfriends with benefits I guess? We have kind of been fooling around off and on since sophomore year of highschool when we lost our virginity to each other.”

“And you’re… okay with that?”

“Yeah Robin, I’m okay with it. We decided a long time ago that us being together for real wasn't really an option. Imagine if we broke up? I couldn’t handle losing him.” You bit your lip, just the thought of losing Eddie made you anxious.

Now you had Nancy curious “So have you ever been with anyone else? Or are you guys like exclusive friends with benefits? Because if you’ve only ever been with him I’d say you’re pretty much together anyways.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve had hookups and flings, so has Eddie. I had a few guys I went on a couple dates with when I was gone at school but I’ve never had an actual relationship really. Neither has he.”

“So you’re telling us, you’ve been fucking on and off and on for almost EIGHT YEARS, never had a real relationship, and yet you guys still aren’t actually together? Don’t you think that’s maybe the reason neither of you have ever had a relationship? You’re stuck on each other?” Nancy, always the voice of reason.

“I absolutely know that’s why, I compare every guy to Eddie and no one has measured up. He treats me like a princess, why would I want a boyfriend who treats me anything less than that?” You shrugged and took another bite of your egg roll.

“Okay but what about when you do find that person? Or he does? What then? Things will change either way.” Robin questioned. She had her own reasons for bringing this all up in the first place. She knew Steve liked you, and he made her promise not to mettle but just asking if you were single isn’t meddling, right?

“I don’t know Robin, we’ve never talked about it. We will cross that bridge when the time comes.” You hoped they would let it go after that. It’s not that you necessarily didn’t want to talk about your relationship with Eddie, it’s just whenever anyone brings up that it probably has an eventual expiration date you feel like your whole world is crashing down.

“So there’s really no one you’ve ever thought you really really liked?” Okay, maybe she was reaching meddling territory now.

“Nope. Never. Can we just watch dirty dancing now?”

You didn’t feel like elaborating more than that, especially since recently there was someone you’d started to like. It was confusing and very much against your will but you had started to develop a small crush on Steve. You tried really hard to give him the cold shoulder when you first got back, you spent years with feelings of animosity towards him but if even Eddie could give him another chance you figured you could too. Then of course he had to be just so sweet, and such a gentleman, always telling you that you looked pretty and he smelled so good. It honestly made you want to punch him in the face. Or kiss him. Or both.

Robin narrowed her eyes at you but decided to drop it for now, even though she could tell there was definitely something you weren’t telling them with how quickly you decided to change the subject.

“Yeah okay, let’s watch the movie. But I’m not letting this go forever.”

“I didn’t even think for a second that you would.” You laughed and pressed play on the VHS.

Your love life wasn’t brought up anymore after that but that didn’t keep you from thinking about it. What would happen if Eddie got a girlfriend? You and him were never exclusive but the thought of him actually loving someone made you feel sick. Did he feel the same way? You hoped he did. Does that mean you want things with him to be exclusive? You’d never really allowed yourself to have those thoughts but now you were starting to wonder.

Then there was Steve, who just added to your confusion. Something about him just drew you to him, even back in highschool when you felt nothing but negative feelings toward him it was like he was everywhere you looked. Maybe you always had a small crush on him but would’ve never in a million years admitted it to yourself back then. It’s not like you would’ve ever had a chance, he treated everyone like you like dirt under his shoe. He never bullied you directly but him picking on your friends was enough to tell you how he probably felt about you too. Then you remember that one time Junior year when he asked you out, did he actually mean it? The thought that he might like you made your insides heat up and you felt like one of those girls you used to make fun of in highschool for swooning over him.

Robin could practically see the gears turning in your head, it was very obvious you weren’t watching the movie at all and she knew she told Steve she wouldn’t involve herself but she just had this feeling…

“You like Steve don’t you?” Robin’s voice snapped you out of your cycle of spiraling thoughts and you whipped your head around to look at her.

“What!?”

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 - 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

additional notes: Joel is 36 and since I saw Tommy's age nowhere, I decided to give them a five-year age gap which will make Tommy 31 in this story. Reader is in her late twenties.

word count: 1.2k

chapter summary: Joel gets a new neighbor.

warnings: none for now!

a/n: thank you to my dearest @pedrito-friskito for editing and allowing me to scream at her over this as always, love you to the moon and back ❤️❤️❤️

chapter one

Joel sits with Tommy on the porch, surrounded by the brilliant warmth of the sun. The sky is a canvas of blue, with a few fluffy clouds lazily drifting by. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle breeze feels soft and tender over his sunburnt skin. A car passes by their house and comes to a stop at the next. Sarah is at school, and for the first time in weeks, Joel feels that he can fully relax. He’s speaking to Tommy, but as always, his brother only half-listens, nodding absently as his gaze remains fixed on the woman emerging from the vehicle.

Joel observes the woman stepping out of the car. She looks young, likely closer in age to Tommy than to himself. She carries a box with her as she makes her way into her new home. Her expression is in complete contrast with the bright sunshine and blooming flowers. He knows why. Losing a family member is never easy.

"We should go say hi," Tommy suggests, pulling Joel out of his contemplations. "And maybe help her with the rest of her stuff."

Joel raises an eyebrow, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth before speaking. "You do know how she got the house, right? Her grandpa died. Not exactly a happy occasion."

"Maybe they despised each other—" Tommy counters, but his sentence is cut short as Joel smacks him on the back of the head. The younger brother rubs at the throbbing pain, shooting a glare at Joel, who remains unfazed.

Joel’s eyes drop to the green grass, observing each and every green blade, “The old man talked about her all the time. I doubt there was nothin’ but love going on between them. Have some respect will ya,” 

“I feel like that’s all the more reason to go help,” 

Joel releases a heavy sigh, loathing the fact that his brother is correct. Without a word, he rises from his seat, the short wooden stairs groaning beneath him as he descends. Tommy is quick to follow, a little too enthusiastically, Joel observes.

Joel approaches the door and gives a short, booming knock. He takes a step back when the door opens, the woman looks at the two men with a confused expression, her eyebrow raised in question.

“May I help you?” she asks, eyes flitting between the two. 

Tommy takes the lead, which surprises no one. 

"Hi there, we're your neighbors," Tommy says, his eyes briefly scanning the inside of the house. "Thought we might offer some help?"

"Oh," the woman gasps, realization hitting. She quickly extends a hand, a nervous chuckle falling from her chapped lips. She introduces herself, squeezing Tommy's hand first, then Joel's.

Joel notices the way her gaze seems to see right through him, which makes him feel at unease. He clears his throat and points at Tommy, "He actually doesn't live next door, I'm your real neighbor, me and my daughter Sarah," he says, his hand still cradling hers. "Nice to meet you,"

Tommy shoots Joel an exaggerated look of offense, which he ignores but she laughs at. "It's nice to meet you too," she says, her laughter circling them both.

 It’s a pleasant sound, one that leaves both men speechless. 

“I’m actually done with all the boxes,” she says with a hint of pride. “But I would love to have you and your family over.” she addresses this part to Joel, then she adds as an afterthought; “After I get everything sorted, that is,”  

Joel opens his mouth to answer but Tommy beats him to it, “You got it, sweetheart. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to knock on our door,” 

“My door,” Joel grumbles, his eyes digging holes into Tommy’s skull. 

Luckily his new neighbor doesn’t hear him. The only evidence that the words actually left his mouth is provided by the sharp elbow Tommy digs into his stomach. 

Bastard. 

He winces in pain, hand shooting to his stomach with a cough caught in his throat. Joel doesn’t know how to react when she reaches over and places a soft hand on his shoulder, his pulse skyrockets, crimson red peppering all over his skin. 

“Are you alright?” she asks. “Do you need me to get you a glass of water?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Tommy says. “He’ll be fine.” 

When Joel manages to catch his breath, her hand is still on his shoulder. His body reacts impulsively, taking her hand and holding it between his fingers. Blood tingles under his fingernails. He doesn’t know why, but in that moment she reminds him of stained glass; beautiful, mesmerizing, delicate. 

What the hell is going on with him? 

“I’m fine, don't worry,” he croaks, letting go of her hand. She seems just as flabbergasted as him. “Well then, we’ll be off.” 

Tommy chirps next to him, his voice like nails on a chalkboard, “Are you sure you don’t want that water, Joel?” 

“I’m sure,” he answers, his brows furrowing. “Let’s not trouble our new neighbor any longer,” 

If Tommy wants to object, he doesn’t. Just as they’re about to leave, her voice calls out to him. He turns, and the world around him shifts into slow motion. Your eyes are glossed over, not looking at him but down to the pavement underneath. He cocks an eyebrow. 

“Did you know my grandfather?” she asks, stunning him further. Joel finds the strength to nod but his mouth is drained of all moisture. “If—If you don’t mind, could you tell me about him sometime? What his life was like living here. I…I hadn’t spoken to him for a while. I didn’t even notice a month had passed since…” 

Her voice breaks and trails off. Joel’s heart beats slow and steady. He looks at her with a sympathetic smile and when he turns to Tommy he sees that his brother is looking at her the same way. Grief is a cruel teacher, they both know.

“Of course,” Joel replies and your face lights up.

With that the brothers walk away from the house. The brief exchange replays in Joel’s mind in a constant loop, lingering on the memory of her smile and the tears that threatened to fall. 

“She’s quite somethin’ isn’t she?”

“Huh?”

Wide-eyed, Joel turns to Tommy. His stomach drops when he sees that same love-struck expression he’s seen his baby brother make since they were youngins. He sharply sucks his bottom lip through his teeth and bites it, he’s feeling anxious all of a sudden. The clear oxygen around him feels polluted, somehow.

“I said, she’s quite somethin’, isn’t she?” Tommy repeats, agitated. “You never listen to me do you? Anyway, you think she’d say yes if I asked her out?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Joel answers with a forced shrug. “Y’re not a complete eyesore which is a plus,” 

“Yeah?” Tommy grins, throwing his arm over Joel’s shoulder. “I think I will.” 

Joel doesn’t have anything to say to that. He allows Tommy to drag him back to their home, the subject has already changed to something mundane. 

But his mind is left at her porch. Wondering when their next conversation will be. 

[doublechocolate]

Haibara dissecting Conan/Shinichi like he's some kind of experiment ksjksjf

I think it was around this time when I started to seriously ship them. Haibara, at this stage, was still given the "cold and mysterious" status of a character but the story didn't shy away from showing us how her empathy extended beyond her own needs. She was well aware of Conan/Shinichi's pain, and also Ran's, because she finds herself to be in that same position as them, and has gone through layers of her own emotional turmoil by this point to recognize this.

But more than that, it's blatantly obvious here that if there's anyone who can understand Conan, it's her. There's a level of understanding between them that's deep and personal. And yes, Conan has that with others too, you can argue that, but what he has with Haibara is slightly different. You see, their "friendship" was born out of pain and trauma. They were each others' "doom", in a sense. Haibara created the APTX4869 drug while Conan failed to save Akemi. They saw the sides of each other that others haven't and had to learn to trust each other in their own way. Slowly, they grew to understand one another and from doom, they became each others' hope.

(Long rambling under cut)

There are many instances of Conan being able to understand Haibara's thoughts by merely watching her actions but to me, the one that stood out the most was none other than m26 Black Iron Submarine (not canon to you but canon to me) when they were underwater and Haibara is about let Conan's hand go but he pulls her back up. The entire conversation takes place inside their heads yet they knew exactly what each other was saying. Remember that post I made about them being drift-compatible?

That's why I think Conan is still unaware just how big of a presence Haibara is in his life. He came close to that in m26 but with Pinga, BO and Haibara's kidnapping, he didn't exactly have the time to sit and ponder over it. Surely people (non-shippers) would chalk it up to you, "aakchuallyyyy he just needs her for the antidote". But... are you sure? Are you really, really sure that that's all he is to her? Is that all you understand about Conan/Shinichi as a character? Even Takayama Minami and Hayashibara Megumi commented on how Conan losing his cool and becoming short-tempered when Haibara got kidnapped was unusual of him. In their opinion, the only reason why Conan calmed down was because of Agasa and how the Prof almost risked doing something reckless to save Haibara. Only then Conan realized he needed to remain calm to keep Agasa in check.

And also, Haibara noticed Pinga and Vodka's presence in the hotel first but Conan only noticed when Haibara was in danger. His train of thought literally went; something happened to Haibara -> it's the Organization -> oh shit they've taken her. Like, hello?? Excuse me?? What is this soulmate-level telepathy going on here right in front of my salad??

I've ~kinda~ mentioned this before in a passing before, but CoAi lowkey reminds me of SyaoSaku (from CCS) but in a different font - a more painful and (perhaps) tragic one. Haibara being Syaoran's counterpart, and Conan being Sakura's counterpart. Example; Sakura's infatuation for Yukito was loud and out there, literally everyone knew about it too (Conan/Shinichi with Ran). Meanwhile, Sakura's love for Syaoran was already growing quietly within her. She was showing signs of it but was too distracted to realize it, until the time came when Syaoran was going to leave Japan and return to Hong Kong. All of a sudden it hit her like a train that it was too painful to let him go (Conan/Shinichi with Haibara/Shiho).

This is why I'm convinced that when all of this is over, Conan will have to face the reality of just what Haibara means to him. It doesn't matter if Aoyama doesn't want to explore this, or chooses to address this in a different way. It's his story, he can do what he wants. But personally for me? I know Conan simply cannot go back to his original life as Kudou Shinichi anymore. He's too far changed, forced to recognize the grayness in a world he deemed black and white, empathize with people he would have classified as "criminals" in the past, and live a life of white lie even it meant hurting the people he cared for the most - in short, Conan/Shinichi simply cannot go back to being the same person he was before Tropical Land. And the one person we know for sure who will be able to understand him despite all of this, is Haibara.

I saw a comment once saying that CoAi/ShinShi are supplementary and wouldn't work. I disagree because I think they are more of a narrative foil. Haibara's existence in Conan's life taught him that he isn't invincible (failure to save Akemi) and that not everyone from the Black Organization are cold-blooded assassins. Haibara had her life and freedom stolen from her. Conan, otoh, taught Haibara to live. To not run away from life and to learn to trust people again. All the important people in life left her at some point, but Conan was the only one who kept coming back for her when she chose to give up, holding her hand as tightly as he can.

Conan, the boy who has everything. Haibara, the girl who lost everything. Conan, the boy who keeps trying to dig deeper into the viper's nest. Haibara, the girl who has lived in the viper's nest trying to pull him back from diving further. Conan, the boy who wants to keep tempting fate to save his friends. Haibara, the girl who is willing to die to save her friends. Conan, the boy who thinks his actions of holding back his love is immature. Haibara, the girl who understands his pain enough to know he is anything but. Conan, the boy whose life changed because of the drug Haibara created but in a way also saved his life (Gin chose to not shoot him in the head but fed him the drug instead). Haibara, the girl who lost her sister because Conan couldn't save her but now he'd do anything to make sure she stays alive.

Whether you ship them or not, or see them merely as friends, you can't deny that they play huge roles in each other's lives. We know that when the end comes, Haibara will be willing to let Conan go. She might have already prepared herself for this, even, because Ran is the last person she'd want to hurt at this point. Her resemblance to Akemi is too strong now and she knows Ran adores her a lot too. And from that scene above, we know Haibara feels the same pain Ran and Conan/Shinichi are going through.

But. Will Conan be able to do the same? Can he simply let go of Haibara and return to his old life? Even if Haibara/Shiho does remain in his life, when the dust is settled, can he truly move on from the person whom he has experienced so many life and death encounters with, and in a way, shaped him into becoming the person he is today?

We know the love is one-sided now because we're almost always seeing it from Haibara/Shiho's perspective. But how can we be so sure that something isn't growing deep down in Conan/Shinichi's heart too? If it's something subtle and quiet like the flap of a butterfly's wings now, eventually growing into something that could literally change the course of his life?

If you understand Conan/Shinichi as a person, beyond the shipping lenses, then I think the answer is already obvious.

"It's not cause the creator said so. They're just friends and Shinichi already confessed to someone else". Okay, like I said, the creator can do whatever he wants with his story. I AM choosing to read between the lines based on what that same creator has presented to us. I'm also always reminded of the Akai/Jodie/Akemi love story and how that panned out. I'm saying, things can happen because feelings are complex and sometimes you go through experiences in life that changes you inside out. Both Akai and Conan have had their lives stained by the Black Organization.

Not to mention that, in terms of their personalities, CoAi/ShinShi's relationship are quite a stark parallel to Yuusaku and Yukiko's relationship as well. What Conan/Shinichi needs is someone who can match his level of eccentricity yet at the same time call him out when his head floats too high in the clouds. Haibara is that person. And the best part about it is she didn't even have to change herself to match him - that's pretty much her personality already. Fitting in exactly like a puzzle piece.

Anyway, this is long-winded already. i'll stop rambling here. Also, if this breaches containment and reaches a non-shipper/anti and you have something negative to say, please do me a favor and be a mature person. Leave this post and let's both live in peace.

Love you, CoAi nation, bye!

[idkaguyorsomething]

The Problem of Susan Fic Recs

For many reasons, The Last Battle is probably the most contentious addition to the Narnia canon. The standout, though, has to be the infamous Problem of Susan, wherein the Pevensie children are all killed in a train crash and brought to Narnia 2 Electric Boogaloo aka heaven, then declare that Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia because of her interest in “lipsticks and nylons”. Hardly any time is spent on this, but the implications have been the ground for a lot of argument and discussion. What exactly would happen to Susan, and should it have happened? Over the years, dozens of fic writers have thrown their hats in the ring and weighed in on the subject, making the Problem of Susan almost a prism for the fandom: everyone shines through it a bit differently, resulting in a wide spectrum. Here’s some of the highlights under the cut.

http://shedletsky.com/blog/the-god-who-loves-you

Starting with the fic that coined the term, written by Neil Gaiman himself, this fic is a reflection and deconstruction of the idea that Susan would be able to find Narnia again by delving into the trauma that the experience of losing all her family at once as well as the social injustices that a young woman of her time would’ve faced, something that the narrative of The Last Battle never really addresses. It took off for a reason, as it presents a lot of good food for thought, but it’s also got some pretty weird shit that can feel like it’s conflating adulthood with edginess. Well worth a read for all the points it raises, but if you’re fond of canon you probably won’t like the way it takes a hammer to it.

Now this one is exactly what you’d want to read if you wanted some feel-good time. This story is probably the closest to how C S Lewis would’ve written Susan’s return to Narnia, detailing her rediscovering all the things she put away as well as what led up to her rejecting Narnia in the first place. It falls more to the end of being almost uncritical of canon, with the focus on Susan basically having the same sort of religious rediscovery that C S Lewis himself had in his life. Because of how she was treated in canon, that can be pretty frustrating, but the ending feels nothing short of joyous.

Swinging back to the other end of the spectrum, this fic is very critical of the idea of The Last Battle being a pretty happy ending for everyone, unambiguously stating that life is always worth living for all the Pevensie kids. It explores what their lives could’ve been like if they didn’t die, being a rebuttal of C S Lewis’ themes rather than a continuation of them while feeling equally as happy as the fic directly above.

And this story feels like a midway point between the above two. It dives really deep into the emotional damage that Susan would’ve suffered before and after the train crash in some absolutely gorgeous prose, showing both her and Aslan with great sympathy while maintaining that what happened to her is not a punishment in any way. Bittersweet and very, very good.

Heading back towards the more critical end of the spectrum, this fic presents a Susan who is not interested in finding Narnia again, only her family. She is very much a character straight out of an ancient myth rather than a teen trying to make sense of a senseless situation here, filled with determination as much as desperation. It’s probably the closest fic on here to having something close to a plot as well as a character study, with the exception of The Queen’s Return and one other:

Being a crossover with what’s pretty much the antithesis of the Chronicles of Narnia, His Dark Materials, it’s probably easy for you to guess which side of the spectrum this story falls on. It’s more of a HDM story than a Narnia one, but the two worlds blend together surprisingly well, and it gives us a rare look into a Susan who’s lived decades of her life when the story picks up. She’s pretty much the Professor and it is fascinating, as is everything left to interpretation by this gem of a fic that is ambiguous yet deeply satisfying.

¡And here’s Susan as a Doctor Who companion! This isn’t directly a Narnia story so much as it is one about two people much older than they look mourning the loss of their worlds, with a Susan who is a queen wise beyond her years. Reading it is like taking an ice shower. It doesn’t hold back on the grief, and as a result it manages to feel honest as it reaches a warm ending.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/24311

Despite also being a crossover, this is in some ways the opposite of touch the sky with two arms. Susan is more of an everyday young woman than a queen, and [SLIGHT SPOILERS] Narnia itself does feature directly. But y’know, that’s part of what makes fandom so interesting. Not everyone is going to have the same take on everything, and the ending of this leans more happy than melancholy.

¿A shipping fic that’s also a crossover with Peter Pan that features neither Neverland or Narnia? Yes, this one probably has the least to do with Narnia or Aslan, but it tells a very compelling story about living life and growing up, something that isn’t perfect but can be good if you find someone you want to spend your life with. Susan Pevensie and Wendy Darling are a really good couple, pinky promise.

Technically more a series of ensemble oneshots, but Susan features very prominently in a lot of them, and they will make you feel every feeling that everything else on this list might’ve given you. Satisfaction, devastation, simple joy, just go give it a shot.

[eddiernunson]

Halloween Party | Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader | 18+

Blurb from my long form Eddie x Fem!Reader story Trapped (go check it out if you're in the mood for a long read)

I am really proud of this part of the story so I thought it might deserve to stand by itself.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: It's a threesome with less experienced Eddie. No aftercare, daddy kink, faceriding, praise kink, double penetration, and hooking up under the influence. Eddie and Reader are in an established relationship for about a month at this point.

Halloween in 1985 is on a Friday, lucky fucking seniors. Steve Harrington has some words about this, seeing as his senior year’s Halloween was on a Thursday.

You, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and the rest of the seniors at Hawkins High spent all week buzzing about the upcoming holiday. Sure, some think Halloween is invented by the candy companies to make more money, but no senior can deny the value of getting absolutely wasted at Steve Harrington’s house. When you’re a young child the very appeal of Halloween comes from the free candy and running amok the neighbourhoods, but to a horny teen in rural Hawkins, Indiana in 1985 the appeal is free alcohol and many rooms to hook up at the Harrington’s. The incentive to have a sickening costume and have genuine excitement for the holiday.

On Monday you and Eddie drive over to the local costume shop to grab your costumes, giggling as Eddie suggests you be a sexy witch, or even worse, a sexy pig. How the hell is that even sexy anyway?

When the two of you go to the front desk with the costumes landing with a soft plop, the front counter girl giving you two a one up as she witnesses the downright irony of the freak of Hawkins High being an angel for Halloween. “Please tell me you are going to Harrington’s party.” She says, entering the prices into her computer.

“Yep.” Eddie says, giving you a look.

“Thank God. I cannot wait to see the Freak dressed in all white as a fucking angel.” She giggles, excitedly placing your costumes in a plastic bag.

Eddie grabs your hand, holding you back from swinging at her for outright insulting your boyfriend.  “Not worth it. She means well.” He whispers, then giving her a fake smile and tugging you toward the door.

On Friday during lunch Eddie announces that for one time and one time only he is cancelling Hellfire for Halloween, claiming he doesn’t have any time to go to the party and lead Hellfire.

Of course, he was met with groans of how hypocritical he was and how lame it was to cancel Hellfire when Halloween fell perfectly on a Friday. He didn’t care, smirking at you across the cafeteria as he places his two pointer fingers on his head to mimic a devil. You place your hands together as if you were an angel in response, igniting laughter out of him.

This leads to you standing in front of your mirror tugging on the short yet leathery red dress you were wearing, your fingers rubbing against the bright red nail polish you wore. You self consciously rub your tummy, the dress much lower cut than you had expected. Your hair was teased and curled, sprayed into oblivion as you knew the devil horns was going to get all tangled up in your hair.

The plastic tail that came with the horns occasionally brushed up against your legs, something you weren’t used to. You wore red flats as to not hurt your feet through the night, your eyeshadow a bright red blended out to your brows to high heavens and your lipstick glossy and ruby red. This was as good as it was gonna get.

You went downstairs, your mom offering you a ride, so you didn’t drive, Eddie getting a ride from Wayne for the same reasons. “You look amazing!” Your mom shouts, causing you to shy look at your feet as she looks at you in a new way.

“Is Eddie going as a devil, too?” She asks as she grabs the keys. The two of you walk to her small car, a car she bought for herself when she was no longer driving you around anymore in a big van.

“No,” you say, keeping your knees awkwardly together as you get into the car. “He’s an angel.”

“Funny.” Your mom deadpans, rolling her eyes as she rolls out of the driveway.

You pull up to the party a half hour late, basically on time for Steve’s parties. You saw a few groups of people making their way up the driveway of Steve’s massive house, the sight of it feeling almost alien as you’re now used to the quiet of his parents out of town and you, Robin and Steve hanging out in his living room.

She drops you off, making a half a joke about staying safe, but you heard the truth behind it. “Love you!” you call, waddling over to the front door.

You hear the music as soon as you get out of your mom’s car, hearing the loud voice of Whitney Houston asking to dance with somebody. Reaching the wide-open front door, the heat of the house already radiating from the dancing teens hitting you as you walk in. You almost regretted wearing faux leather now. You scanned the room, seeing Steve and Robin in the corner. Steve was dressed as Peter Pan and Robin as Tinkerbelle. Her outfit wasn’t nearly as revealing as the blonde cartoon character, but it was clear from the green shirt and cargo pants with the fairy wings on her back and glitter on her face she was Tinkerbelle. “Hi Peter!” you say, shouting over the music.

“Oh, shit!” Steve says as he gives you a one-up at your red and daring get up. “You look.” He gives a look to Robin and manages to gain the breath you took away from him. “I think Eddie will cream his pants on the spot let’s just say that.”

 “I hope not I want to wait until we get to one of the rooms.” You joke and turn towards the counter where red solo cups are sitting pretty waiting for new consumers.

Steve leans back in exasperation, mad at his dick for betraying him. “Okay, well I’m gonna have a drink, did you want something?”

“Hell no,” you mutter, grabbing your own. “Last time you mixed me a vodka soda you nearly made me tipsy one drink in.”

“That was the goal!” He yells, laughing as the vodka glugs into his cup.

“So, where’s Wendy?” you ask, yet understanding the irony of their costumes and why Robin isn’t dressed as Wendy for the night.

“Oh, she’s my date!” Steve says, nodding his chin over towards a girl in brown hair dressed in a blue pajama dress that was only down to her thighs. “Brittany, you’ll meet her later! You’re gonna love her, I promise!”

“Can’t wait!” you say unenthusiastically, already having met many of Steve’s latest dates. You mix your own drink, knowing Steve will let you drink any of his alcohol.

You dance absentmindedly to Thriller, your eyes rolling as it plays at a Halloween party. By the time song #6 plays and your inhibitions are somewhat already gone, you’ve gone through two drinks and can feel some the affects of alcohol affecting your system.  

You have your hand with the drink up in the air, side stepping to the beat now in a circle with Steve, Robin, and Brittany, and suddenly you feel an arm snake around your midriff. “Hi, my sexy little devil,” you hear low in your left ear.

You have half a mind to tell the mysterious man to back off because you had an awesome boyfriend who would kick his ass, but your train of thought was stopped in its tracks when it was him. Eddie was there, two arms laid on your shoulders, and you take in Eddie dressed in all his angelic glory. He had his hair slicked back into a ponytail, a white button-down shirt and a white pair of paints with a halo head band resting on his gelled up hair and a small pair of angel wings on his back. To top it off, he had some glitter on his cheek bones, and the only thing you see that’s normal about your boyfriend is his rings. Thank God he’s still wearing the rings.

“Jesus, who are you and where is Eddie Munson?” you ask, your words partially slurred. “Is that glitter on your cheeks?”

Eddie laughs at your slurred speech, astounded you were already so intoxicated. “One of my bandmembers LARPS in his free time, he has way more glitter than you could imagine.”

Your face is awestruck to this information. “That’s very resourceful of you.”

Eddie laughs, walking over to the table to pour himself a drink. He looks up anxiously, wondering if any of his classmates were giving him dirty looks. So far, so good. He pours too much baileys into a coke, wanting to get on your level, so to speak. “Well, give me ten minutes, ok? I need to catch up.”

“Ten minutes? Good luck with that.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you are dancing in the living room, both of your cares gone. He was right. It only took ten minutes for him to get as drunk as you were, but by the time he got there, you were another drink and a half in, your drunk competitiveness shining through. He has his arm wrapped around you and if he was sober enough to care he would blanch at the pop songs that seem to be exclusively playing through the speakers, but he only knew the beat and his thigh placed between your legs as you two grinded.

You can’t tell how much time goes by as you’re lost in the beat with him, noting the sweat gathering on his forehead and the light pain burning into your thighs as you stay half bent for a good while. You were lost with his hands placed on your ass when you hear from someone, loud and clear. “Why is the freak here? When Harrington said the rules, I didn’t think he was being serious! God, I don’t want to see that shit!”

Eddie, in his drunken haze is pulled out of the intoxication that was your body against his and scans the room quickly to find Steve going through his tapes. “Harrington!” He calls, his arm leaving your waist as he stumbles across. “Harrington!”

By this time, Steve Harrington is also drunk and, in his haze, had to keep his eyes from roaming to you across the room desperately grinding on what he wished was thigh, but was Eddie’s. Shit was getting complicated, and he was not a big fan. “Uh yeah?”

“You said point, ya? Point and they’re gone?” Eddie clarifies before making a fool out of himself.

It takes a moment for Steve to comprehend what Eddie was going on about. “Uh, yeah. Point, and they’re banned.”

Eddie points dramatically across the room to where one of the jocks was chatting up a girl dressed as a bunny (predictable) and raises is eyebrows at Steve.

“Oh! Shit, Okay gotchya.” Steve walks as confidently as he can over to the jock, even in his own drunken and confused haze, and grabs the over towering jock by the shoulder. “Get out.”

“Wait, what?” He asks, turning to face Steve.

“Get. Out.” Steve says, pointing to the door. “You knew the rules. You even so much as look at Munson wrong, you’re out. Out!”

“You were serious about that shit? He and his little slut girlfriend were grinding all over the room, you expect me to not say anything about that? Bullshit!” He yells, making a big scene.

Eddie saw red as soon as he heard him call you a slut. Yeah, he calls you a slut all the time, but that was for his enjoyment alone. He runs across the room to him, and his hands are in fists ready to throw punches.

“Hey!” Steve yells, pushing him lightly off the bewildered jock. “Let me handle this.” He looks back to the jock and holds back his own want to pummel him into the dirt. Steve doesn’t have good track record with picking fights, but each time it was for a noble cause, and this sounds noble enough. “Get the fuck out of my house. No more hook up parties for Bongo.”

Steve has a few other friends of his that were his age help him yank the asshole outside, now much easier with the help.

“This is almost too much power.” Eddie mumbles as people are no longer shooting him anything remotely close to a dirty look. He glances to you, and your arms are now across your stomach, and you’re hunched over. “Hey.” He mutters, too drunk for this he decides as he tries to calm you down.

“Hi.” You whisper, the gloss of a tear forming in your eye. “Does everyone think I’m a slut? Is that why you call me one?”

Fuck. Eddie shushes you, pulling you into his arms. “No, no. He’s an asshole with asshole opinions. I call you one because I thought it would be sexy and fun. I only call you one when we’re both enjoying each other, yeah?”

“Oh. Okay. Can we get more drinks?” You ask, missing the buzz you lost from the adrenaline of watching your boyfriend defend your honour.

“Sure, baby.”

The two of you down two more drinks each, ending up on Steve’s couch as Steve is telling a story about something that happened in the pool, he worked at with a shithead kid. “I’m telling you! This kid lived to make trouble. I had to beg our manager to let me ban him, but every time Don would come for evidence the kid was a fucking, well Eddie I guess.”

You and Eddie giggle as well as the ones who were listening to him. Logically, there’s no possibility you should be able to hear him with the music still bursting through the speakers. Yet, there were about nine or ten of you gathered on the couch and you could hear every word. You were sat on Eddie’s lap, stroking his hair, however gelled and gross it may feel while you were sober. You didn’t care.

Steve wrapped up his story, talking quietly to Brittany and Robin. You barely had spoken to Brittany all night like Steve had promised, but from the “eeugh” looks he kept giving Robin about what she would say you guessed you wouldn’t be getting to know her anyways.

You looked at your boyfriend, and noticed his brown eyes were turned downward at your red (smeared) lips. “See something you like, handsome?” you ask, voice low and feeling his boner underneath your thighs.

“I see a lot of what I like.” He mutters, and you swear in your drunken haze he is slowly getting closer to you. You feel your eyes close, and Eddie’s lips are on yours, his tongue forcing it’s way into your mouth, feeling electric as you move to straddle him. He kisses you with fervour, his hands finding their way frantically into your wild and teased hair.

Your hips grinds itself to his, and you hear a wolf whistle coming from a couch cushion right next to you. You look over, your red lips even more smeared and Eddie has his own share of it on his.

“Get a room.” Robin states, still only lightly buzzed and sipping out of her red solo cup. “Seriously I don’t wanna see this. Go.”

You look at Eddie, his lipstick-covered lips barely even registering to you, you’re too fucking horny and drunk for that to even register. You grab his hand and tug him up the stairs. You knock on three doors, each one of them someone yells out it’s occupied. Finally, you get to the one at the end of the hall, and no one answers when you knock.

You hesitate to open, scared to see some live action porn but Eddie opens it for you, impatient, and wanting your devil costume on the floor. He shuts it behind you and thank God there’s a fucking bed in here. The lack of light is providing a vision impairment, but you didn’t really care, your lips latched onto his like the answer to world peace is in the back of his throat. You frantically start unbuttoning his shirt, your intoxicated body stumbling through each one. You’re on the last button when Eddie rips off his shirt, the button rolling across the hardwood floor. He reaches behind you, unzipping your dress and letting it slide down your waist.

You step out of your costume, the tail going with it. You reach up to take out your horns but Eddie places his hand on your wrist, stopping you. “Wear them. They’re hot.” Eddie mumbles, leaning in to kiss down your neck.

“Does that mean you wear your halo?” You ask, giggling as you look at the sparkly overpriced pipe cleaner.

“How am I supposed to eat you out with this on?” He asks, pushing you to guide you towards the four postered bed. He hanks the halo off, tossing it with the busted button.

You lie down on the bed, your legs spread showing the lacy black panties you wore and the strapless bra for the strappy dress. You shivered in anticipation to what he was going to do to you, your chest heaving.

“Roll onto your stomach, baby.” He mutters. When you silently listen to his command, he slaps your ass lightly, causing a moan to escape your mouth. “That’s my good girl.” He slips your panties down your ass, and you hear his belt buckle and fly being zipped down. “Daddy is gonna fuck you for a little bit then I will make you cum, okay baby?”

Eddie slips into you, bottoming out with no time to let you adjust. “Holy shit, baby, you are so wet.” He mutters, already starting to thrust into you slowly. “Are you all revved up, my little devil?”

You nod, but Eddie barely sees as your face is pushed into the pillow, headbanded devil horns slightly too rough against your scalp. “C’mon tell me with your words.”

You lift your head, forced to use your hand as support. “Was so horny. You look so fucking hot. I love your cock, daddy, feels so good.”

“Love your fucking pussy, baby. So pretty, so tight, so wet, just for daddy. Fucking love my little slut’s pussy.” In Eddie’s mind he cannot stop thinking how much your wet heat just feels so good around him. He needs a taste, wanted to be drunk on your greedy little cunt. Without warning you his cock leaves your pussy, and he gives you a big lap down your pussy lips. “Holy shit, baby. Your pussy tastes,” he pauses, giving another lick to your wet slick. “Fucking good. Oh my god.”

Eddie’s tongue contacting your pussy sends pleasure waves down your body, despite your intoxication. You lean back into the pillow, moaning loudly so no one in the next rooms can hear you. Even with the pillow muffling you, he can hear you loud and clear, digging into it like a man starved. He wraps his ring-clad fingers around your thighs, grabbing onto them harshly.

As Eddie gets into your pussy and takes in every drop he can possibly swallow and you hike your ass up more and moan louder into the pillow, either of you hear a heavy set of footsteps walking down the hall and closer and closer to the unlocked door.

If you did hear what was transpiring, you would hear Steve Harrington knocking on his bedroom door, wondering if any of the couples had made his way into the room. He heard faint moaning, but he was too drunk to understand it had come from the other side of his door. He opened the door, seeing no light on and no other reason to think anyone was in there and walked on in, only to stop dead in his tracks. The sight of you bent over the very pillows his head was leant on thinking about you with his cock in his hand last week caused his already slight hard on to get harder, the sight of Eddie eating you out doing nothing to help his situation. He knew he had a light attraction to Eddie, something he had put off for years, but the sight of the two of you so emersed in it not to even notice him had him gawking in his doorway.

Eddie places his thumb on your clit, slowly rotating it on your swollen bud and Steve sees as your thighs tense up immensely and you can barely support yourself on your knees. Eddie moves his head back to rub his two fingers on your folds, watching as they caused more slick to gush out of your folds. Eddie is so entranced by his fingers against your pussy, he suddenly notices the light from the hallway and a very specific shadow in the doorway.

He looks back over his shoulder to see Steve Harrington, slips his two fingers into you, your ass hiking up in response. “Oh shit!” You yell into the pillow are oblivious to any light cascaded onto the bed.

“Hi.” Eddie mutters, fucking his fingers into you and shooting a darkened glance to Steve, who was unashamedly watching his limber fingers moving. He looks down to where Steve is watching and smirks. “She’s pretty, ain’t she?” he asks, licking his lips as he switches his glance between the two of you.

“Y-yeah.” Steve mutters, his hand moving to palm himself in his green Peter Pan costume. “Very pretty.”

“You wanna taste?” Eddie asks, somewhere a sober version of him asking what the fuck he was doing, but his inhibitions already flown away and not coming back until tomorrow.

“U-uh, what?” He asks, making sure he heard Eddie right.

“Her pretty little pussy. You wanna taste?” Eddie says and leans in to give a long stripe of wet up your folds. 

“D-daddy feels so good.” You should in the pillow still unaware your pussy was on full display for the man who you’ve been accidentally dreaming about for a week.

“Holy shit.” Steve mumbles. He looks at Eddie and nods his head, and Eddie is suddenly put into action. He moves you easily so you’re on your back, and when you face the light and the man silhouette in front of you, your eyes take a moment to adjust to him.

Suddenly Steve’s presence is known by you, and you want to close your legs in embarrassment despite Eddie still having two of his fingers fucking into you. “Baby.” He says, crawling up your body. “Can Steve have a taste?”

“Wh-what?” you stutter, starting at Steve who was palming himself and staring openly at between your legs. Despite your protests, Eddie feels your pussy gush and become wetter at the sight of Steve, and he understands your body wants what is immoral to have while you are dating him.

“Can Steve taste this nice wet little pussy of yours?” He asks kissing your neck to butter you up. “I felt you get wetter at seeing him look at you. It’s okay if you want it.”

“Yes.” You whisper, afraid he would get mad at you and claim to set you up as a test.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie grabs him and reaches in to kiss Steve harshly on the lips, his tongue colliding with Steve’s as soon as they start kissing, Steve starting to lead him, noting the lack of experience and confidence in kissing someone besides you for the first time. You watch them make out, your fingers latching onto your clit and rubbing it as you Steve and Eddie get lost in each other, Eddie palming Steve as Steve moans loudly.

“C’mon, have a taste.” Eddie mutters, grabbing Steve’s hand and escorting him to sit in-between your legs.

Steve needs no more encouragement. You shiver in anticipation as you had heard the stories of Steve’s expert tongue for the last two years, both from Nancy and the girls he had slept with when he realized nothing else was there for him.

He leans in with more confidence than Eddie, his tongue longer and wider in size. He licks a long stripe up your pussy, licking onto your clit hard, causing a red heat to burst from it and down your thighs. You hike your legs up and around his head, the shaking of your thighs uncontrollable and the moans from your mouth loud and sinful.

Steve’s hand makes it way up your body, latching underneath your bra and grabbing your nipple. “You taste so goddamn good.” He sighs, his hot breath erotic on your puffy pussy lips. “Way better than I even imagined.”

You open your eyes to see Steve’s eyelashes fanned across his cheeks, fully immersed in the taste and feeling of you. You look up to face your boyfriend who was jerking himself off at the sight of you and Steve together. “You have no idea, Stevie. Wait until she squirts all over your fucking face. There’s nothing like it.”

“Can’t fucking wait.” Steve’s other thumb makes its way into your asshole, something Eddie has never even thought to do.

“Oh my god” you squeal, your eyes opening wide in response. “Stevie feels so fucking good.”

Eddie makes his way to one side of the bed, his cock right by your face. “Suck on my cock, princess.”

You reach out, jerking him off and tugging him towards your mouth. Eddie pushes his cock into your mouth, fucking your throat slowly as you can feel a slow heat start to creep from your stomach and through your legs. “Holy shit, that mouth of yours you suck so well.” Eddie mutters, keeping eye contact with Steve lapping up the juices coming out of you faster.

Your hole puckers around Steve’s thumb, it takes time to adjust. He feels your hole start to cling onto it, as if begging Steve’s thumb to creep further in. “Little cunt is very greedy.” Steve comments as he starts to fuck his tongue into your pussy hole.

The raw feeling of Eddie���s cock fucking now relentlessly into your mouth, Steve’s thumb in your ass and his tongue fucking into you became too much to bear. “Oh shit.” You whimper around Eddie’s cock. “I’m close”

“Is she allowed to cum, yet Stevie?” Eddie asks, placing his ring-clad fingers in your hair harshly against your scalp.

“Has she been good?” Steve asks, huffing as he can feel your stomach tighten up and your legs tense.

“Such a good fucking girl.” Eddie mutters, still fucking your throat. You can start to feel tears threaten to fall down your face from the feeling of his cock becoming too much in your mouth and your jaw start to hurt.

“Okay.” Steve mutters, sounding almost bored, the very tone almost hurting your feelings as you’re so fucking overwhelmed by everything they’re giving you. Steve sucks on your clit harshly, the familiar feeling of a heat spreading from your clit, through your stomach and floating into your head and the same little voice tells you to let go. You gush all over Steve’s face, moaning around Eddie’s cock and careful not to bite down on how good it feels.

Steve licks his mouth, not expecting you to squirt on him right from the get-go, but loving the feeling nonetheless. “Holy shit. Ed, you were right. Nothing like it. I’m gonna fuck her now.”

“Tell me how the slut’s pussy feels, Stevie.”

Steve asks Eddie to bring his cock out of your mouth and yanks your ass, so your back is now right on top of your stain you made on Steve’s bed. “Oh, I will.” Steve brings his pants down to his ankles, and you drool at the sight of his cock. It’s bigger than what you were accustomed to with Eddie, but the very image of it made you pray he would put it into your mouth.

Steve lines himself up to your pussy, the slick from your squirting making you wet enough for him to slide right in. Your jaw drops as he enters, Eddie jerking himself off from the sight of it. Steve leans down to finally kiss you, and you attempt to lead him like you’re used to but quickly get scolded into Steve leading you. He expertly uses his tongue on yours, bucking his hips harshly against yours all the while, not stopping to do either one like Eddie might do sometimes.

“Jesus,” you mutter, your mouth hanging open as you can’t concentrate on kissing him.

Steve stops his movements. “Kiss me. You can do it, baby. Keep kissing me.” You do what he says, moans coming from a guttural place in the back of this throat as his holds his hand around your neck.

Eddie comes up beside you after watching this, almost perfectly content in this threesome becoming a twosome with him watching from the corner. “Baby I’m gonna fuck your ass.” You nod at him, letting go of Steve’s kiss and reaching for the familiarity of Eddie’s. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

Steve gets up, knowing Eddie won’t be able to properly fuck you if he’s lying on top of you. You whine at the loss of Steve’s cock, but he barely gives you a chance to even revel in the feeling of it. He grabs you by the hand, yanks you off his bed without any effort. The blanket is torn off as well, now covered in your slick, but he just wanted the light sheets instead of his heavy comforter.

Steve lies down, getting you to crawl on top of him. “Put my cock in your pussy so Eddie can fuck that tight little asshole of yours, baby.” Steve commands, soft and barely showing that any of this is affecting him like you and Eddie both desperately are. You do as he asks, lying so your ass is perfectly in perfect aim for Eddie to slide into and sinking down onto his cock. “That’s a good girl. Now Ed slide into that little asshole of hers.”

“Does she need lube or anything?” Eddie asks, watching and jerking himself absentmindedly as he watches you get fucked from below. He gets to fuck you every day if he wants to, but he never gets to see you get fucked quite like this.

“Oh my god you really were a virgin.” Steve says, hearing your moans loud in his ear as he continues to fuck you. “No just spit on that little hole and ram into her, she’ll adjust fine.”

Eddie listens, licking your asshole for a few moments, spitting generously onto it. You can feel him lining his nice cock to your second hole, and you close your eyes, excited to be filled by both men who have been in your fantasies in recent years. Eddie barely gives you time to register the head of his cock in your hole when he continues in, and you feel so full.

Full is a word, but it barely describes it. You are so filled to the brim that your body shakes and convulses, Steve stopping his movements to let you adjust to the feeling. “How’s that feel, baby?” Steve asks, looking in awe at your pleasure-stricken face. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You lean onto Steve’s body, his nipples peaked as one of your pinkies tugs onto it with out realizing. “Baby is so cock drunk she can’t even speak.” Steve comments, looking over your shoulder to see Eddie.

“Oh, she’s not that dumbed out on cock is she, Stevie?” Eddie asks, waiting until Steve tells him to start fucking you.

Steve chuckles, leaning in to kiss your neck with little kitten licks in between each bite. “Let’s find out.”

Steve’s hips start moving and Eddie takes it as the go ahead. If you thought you felt full before, it was nothing compared to the two men’s cock moving in sync, your mouth opening involuntarily at the overwhelming, all intoxicating pleasure they were thrusting into you. Every part of your body, every inch of your skin was covered in fire. You couldn’t even tell if you were close again or not because your body has never felt this good. Steve notices the slack jaw of yours, and places who of his fingers inside your mouth. “Aw, poor baby.”

“How’s her pussy, Stevie?” Eddie’s gruff voice asks, and by the look of his mixed-up face and stuttering thrusts Steve can tell he’s already close.

“Fucking fantastic. You should see her face. All fucked out. Never seen such a pretty little face.” He compliments you, bringing his spare hand to frame your face, tangling his hands in your teased hair. “Fuck you looked so fucking hot tonight. Whoever told you to dress like a devil I wanna fucking kiss them”

“Already did, Stevie.” Eddie chuckles, doing his best to hold back from cumming but doing a terrible job on his face.

“Eddie, you need to cum, baby?” Steve asks, absentmindedly continuing to fuck you.

“Mmhm.” He mutters, his hands fierce on your hips and even you can tell he’s really holding back in your dazed out brain.

“Then cum.” Eddie stops resisting, and shoots his cum right into your ass, a heavier load than you have ever received from him. Steve stops thrusting too, kissing you as Eddie finishes shooting his gooey white substance into you. “How is our fucked out little baby?” Steve asks, looking at you with half lidded eyes.

“Mm. Good.” You mumble kissing Steve back with more energy and enthusiasm than you knew you had in you still.

Steve sits up, silently commanding Eddie to leave your ass as he takes his own cock out of your pussy. “I’m going to eat you out and Eddie is going to suck on my cock,” he looks at Eddie, “and swallow every drop. Understood?”

“Yes.” Eddie says, already somewhat hard from being ordered like this.

“Good boy.” Steve moves the three of you effortlessly so he’s lying down on the bed, you’re sitting on his face, and Eddie is sucking his cock. You sit on Steve so you’re facing your boyfriend, watching as he’s jerking Steve off and about to suck a cock for the first time. “Has Eddie ever sucked cock before?” Steve asks, noting the hesitation.

“No.” You answer for him, watching as the same wonder you had staring at Eddie’s cock is on Eddie’s face.

“Baby, be a good girl and teach him, will ya?” Steve asks, latching his tongue onto your pussy lips without a second’s hesitation.

“O-okay,” you whimper, the feeling of Steve’s expert tongue already sending you fast over the edge. You take a moment to reel the heat spreading from your sensitive pussy, not sent over the edge from the double penetration but almost too fucked out to understand if you were.

“Teach him.” Steve barks out, running out of patience.

“Sorry.” You whimper. You look to your boyfriend, who looks up at you for all the answers. You sucked his cock well after all. “Okay. Take-ah” you take a moment to whimper as Steve rewards you by sucking onto your clit. “Take his cock into your mouth but be careful of your teeth. I don’t bite, but I do use my teeth to suck on your cock harder.” You whimper, Steve now building a slow rhythm as a reward. “Fuck, Steve,”

Eddie tentatively starts sucking on Steve’s cock, his cheeks hollowing out, copying something he saw from you, and understanding what you meant by not using your teeth to bite but to suck. As soon as he has the feeling of Steve’s big cock in his mouth, he looks to you for more help.

“Bob your head up and down but roll it almost for a really good rhythm.” You teach him more, as the coil starts to form in the pit of your stomach from both the feeling of Steve eating you out unapologetically and watching Eddie work hard on pleasing Steve. Teaching Eddie led to Steve moaning, which lead to a vibration being sent up your pussy. Steve’s hips start to move on their own accord, and you watch as Eddie struggles to regain his rhythm. “Eddie, let him fuck your throat. As soon as your hips start moving, I let you do all the work.”

You leant down to grab onto Eddie’s ponytail, holding on to it to help Steve fuck his throat better. You didn’t expect to be so turned on by it, but Steve could feel the juices leaking out of you, faster as you get closer.

“Fuck, Stevie, I’m close.” You say one hand still on Eddie but your nails clawing into Steve’s chest.

“Wait til I cum, baby. I’m close too.” Steve says, and for the first time since he walked in he sounded like he was enjoying himself.

It was just less than a minute of Steve thrusting into Eddie’s mouth when he finally finishes, giving no warning as his mouth was still on you. “Cum, baby.” He mutters, and the coil in your stomach finally snaps with what felt like an actual snap in your tummy. The orgasm is all consuming, and flutters all around your extended limbs and crosses your eyes. Eddie swallows around Steves cock, and you cum into Steve’s mouth as you watch him, Eddie leaning up and showing you all Steve’s cum in his mouth. You lean in to kiss Eddie, lapping some of Steve’s cum into your mouth, wanting to share the taste of him. Steve bites your thigh to get off his face and you and Eddie look up at him to show him what you’ve been doing.

Steve leans up onto his elbows, laughing in disbelief as he sees the two of your cocked out faces visibly and audibly swallow his cum. “Fuck. That went better than I could’ve expected.” Steve laughs, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

You climb off him, grabbing Eddie’s hand to do the same. “I mean, I pictured it, but never expected it to come true.” You admit, looking around in the dark for your costume.

“I knew you did.” Steve mutters, glad of the confirmation of the lingering touches that’s been occurring more often and more recently. “I fucking knew it.”

“What now?” Eddie asks, and you and Steve look at each other, a mutual agreement.

There was nothing past this. No lingering need for Steve to be your boyfriend and you, his girlfriend. The need and desire the both of you had was purely physical, and now you had it out of your systems. “Honestly, I think we both agree it’s physical.” You admit, hoping Eddie wasn’t ready for a full throuple.

“Okay good. I’m a bit relieved, then.” Eddie admits, also shallow enough to admit for him it was only physical to Steve. “Now I know you’re willing to bat for the other team though.” Eddie laughs.

“Ditto.” Steve retorts, stretching in his bed. “Alright. I’m going back downstairs. I’ll see you both later.” Steve gets back into his costume, fixes his hair and feathered hat in the mirror and gives you both a gentle forehead kiss to trot on downstairs.

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, looking for the light switch by feeling up the wall in the dark. “That was..”

“Intense.” You mutter, waddling into his arms, still naked.

“Any regrets?” you ask, the memories of your double penetration sharp in your mind and all the over stimulation that came with it.

“God, no. That was sick. Plus, not everyone gets to say within the first dozen times they’ve had sex one of them was a threesome.” Eddie chuckles, now scanning the room so the two of you can get dressed.

“Hate to break it to you, baby, but your hair is so messy.” You tell him, his baby hairs flying away from the jail of the gel on his head.

“Eh. They didn’t think we went up for snacks.” Eddie shrugs, passing you your dress and panties.

You mutter a thanks and the two of you get dressed back into your couple’s costume, and you wonder what he will think of next year, too. Every Halloween, you couldn’t wait until the one where you had your first kid, when Eddie is a middle-aged long-haired metal head and you’re passing out candies with all your teenagers out doing whatever.

It was a scary thought considering how new your relationship was, but it was intense and something you’ve never felt. The longing to be with someone. Forever.

The two of you went downstairs, your red lipstick now entirely gone, some of it on Eddie’s mouth, some on his cock. Some of it was even on Steve’s mouth. As you reached the couch, sitting the same way you were before but without hormones kicking in.

Robin sits next to you two and makes an astute observation as she just left a conversation with Steve for him to let Brittany down gently. “Hey, Eddie. Your lips look just like Steve’s. He has the same red on his-” Robin’s eyes widen and her mouth slaps across her face in astonishment.

“You didn’t!” she says, leaning in not to grab attention. As if it were possible, the party still going strong and the music bumping.

“Sorry Robin,” Eddie shrugs the back of his hand slowly rubbing against your lower back. “I don’t suck dick and tell.”

Robin’s eyes go wide at this, and she runs to go ask Steve the same thing for confirmation. The two of you don’t pay attention to their conversation, too wrapped up in a bubble of falling but not quite in love. You two kiss, the tension of wanting to fuck no longer there. Just, absolute care and affection. You swear you could hear Nancy fake gag as she sits next to you on the couch, but Eddie responds how he usually would.

A white painted middle finger high, not care in the world. 

[keepingitformyself]

we might just get away with it (ii)

AN: i’m so sorry for the delay on this second chapter, i got really caught up with uni stuff and then some personal projects i’ve been working on. anyways i have about a month off and will do my best to catch up on this story! hope u guys enjoy this one….happy holidays!

synopsis: hollywood is a tricky place for someone new like you, a certain elusive redhead is hoping for you to let her in.

pairings: writer!natasha romanoff x youngactress!reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: natalie is lowkey a mastermind. rumored romance with another certain actress…..

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

3 weeks later.

new york is everything you love, put into one city. you thrive in it’s anonymity, ironically.

it’s got the strong sense of culture, the food, the creativity, and the people. like every single person who walks the streets is made to belong there, they all have their purpose for making new york what it is.

that’s what you think as you’re sat outside a coffee shop on 463 w broadway.

you make a note of how one day you’ll commit to living here. you also make note of just how reckless it’d be if you just up and left la then never went back. you hate la, you’ve come to find out. yet there’s so much that keeps you there. you hate it. you don’t belong there. but in some sense of the word, you do.

you sigh with the shake of your head, adjust the cap securely on your head, and tighten the large overcoat you have on. the latte in front of you seeming more interesting now. the still hot liquid distracts you from the intrusive thoughts.

your mind drifts off to natalie. you’re immediately taken back to that night at the party. it’s your first time thinking of that night in weeks. and you realize how you truly haven’t felt the way you did that night, since. you remember the conversations you had, you remember how she went to school at nyu, how she told you she hasn’t left new york since. how she never plans to.

you wonder how she’s doing, if she’s in the city. if she remembers you, or has even thought of you.

it makes you a little sad to think about. your life hasn’t slowed down since the release of the series and sometimes all you wanted was to find some small relief in it all. even with the short-lived moments of connection it feels odd to come back from something like that and move on with your life.

your thought is cut short with a text message from samantha.

greta decided to move the meeting a little earlier. she apologizes for the last minute change. can you be there in the next 30 minutes?

you text a quick reply saying that you’ll be there as soon as you can. with that, you grab your to go cup and find the nearest subway that’ll take you up to 19th street.

you make it there just within the thirty minute mark. a kind man waits for you to arrive at the door and leads you up the elevator to the fourth floor of the walk up.

you’re surprised to see who is seated next to greta when you walk in.

“oh good, you made it! let me introduce you to—” you cut her off.

“—natalie.”

the redhead stands from her seat at the table and reaches over it to shake your hand.

“it’s a pleasure we meet again.” her eyes say something different. not bad necessarily, but something more. you’re not sure what it might be. greta’s eyes light up at the gesture.

“oh you’ve met! well, natalie here is gonna be joining us as head writer right besides me and noah for the next season.”

it’s your turn for your eyes to light up. a sense of relief floods through you. natalie isn’t here just to be here, she was here to be part of something with you.

you turn to her with a genuine smile. though you’ve worked with the people in this room for over a year, natalie is drastically different to them.

natalie was the first person who spoke to you as if you were just you. she didn’t bother you about work and stuff.

she talked to you about things that interested you, that interested her. she talked to you like you were just another individual who happened to be at the same party she was at.

“that’s- that’s actually really good to hear. i’m really excited for how this’ll turn out.”you let out a laugh, one that says you’re still trying to comprehend the news.

“right well, let’s get the meeting started!” greta claps her hands together and sits down.

——

natalie hasn’t stopped staring at you since the meeting started.

she hopes you’re as interested in the meeting as you look, because then at least she’d be sure you haven’t figured out her staring problem.

she only catches your eyes whenever greta or noah turn the attention towards her, then you’re forced to look at her. but she’s always just in time to look away before you can notice the stares.

the truth is, natalie is an absolute maniac. she’s a psychopath. she’s a writer for gods sake!

writers have a tendency to be more in sync with their awareness which is great…but they’re also more able to get in touch with that darker side in their psyche. how else do you think she managed to snag a few award-winning films under her belt?

her creativity reaches into places in her mind most wouldn’t even consider to think of.

point is, natalie is a huge romanticist, and it’s a problem. sometimes.

in her defense, greta came up to her for this job. so in some sense of the word, it was fate. plus, tony had put in a good word, not that she asked him to. obviously.

up until that point, natalie had no clue on how to get to you. her only idea was writing her next screenplay and giving you the lead.

but now, the ball was in her court. she takes the next shot.

the meeting ended and everyone was seeing themselves out. natalie thinks of what to say while she’s packing her things but you beat her to it instead.

“it was really nice to see you again.” she hears you say. she lifts her head up, you’re smiling and your hands are stuffed into your coat pockets. a smile easily reaches her eyes at the sight.

“i’m glad. i’ve already got some plans for where i want to take this next season.” natalie replies with an enthusiastic smile.

you raise your eyebrows in surprise eager to know what she might have to say but you hold yourself back. she wouldn’t spoil that for you, even if you asked.

“i have trust you’ll do it right then, i’ve already grown so protective of this show, especially my character.” it was very true. there were moments where you really had to oversee things going on with the script. thank god greta was as collaborative as she is. you’d always try exploring things with your character and she was always very supportive of where you’d take things. it made the series all the more fulfilling to you, honestly.

natalie confirms that she’ll do anything she thinks is in your best interest for the show and before she even realizes it, you’re making a move she wasn’t expecting.

“i know this is on short notice, but…i saw this really nice bistro on my way here and, i’d love to get to know my head writer more…over brunch?” you ask timidly. the thought to ask her had occurred to you only a few seconds ago. natalie seemed wise, and you liked it and she was here with you now and honestly, you just wanted some good company while being in the city.

“yeah i can do lunch. yeah that’s great actually.” natalie was surprised. to say the least. she hadn’t planned to continue the day with you. she decides this was her chance in. her way of getting to know you better, something she’s been desperate to get back to since she realized it that night in her home.

you lead her out of the building where you’re met with the crisp wind of new york city. car horns and police sirens are heard as you walk through the streets of the flatiron neighborhood. on the way to the restaurant you ask eachother how you’ve been.

you tell her about how you just wrapped up your press tour in europe and had spent a few nights with some friends in london. natalie pays close attention to every word that is hung from your lips. she notices to light blush that covers your cheeks and nose due to the cold and she almost reaches out to pull you in closer.

as you speak, she tries not to notice the obvious man with the camera that makes himself known a few hundred feet away from you. a sense of pride makes washes over her at the fact that there’d be a picture taken of the two of you, together.

you end your story and in return ask her how she’s been. natalie doesn’t miss the genuine interest shown in your eyes as she talks.

even as you reach the restaurant and are seated you never lose your sense.

natalie talks and talks and you listen. you’re so entranced by her stories that you’ve come to find that you deeply admire her for what she does and says. it makes you feel all the more excited for the chance at working with her.

she tells you she’s never not writing. even before greta came along to offer her the role of head writer, she was still writing. natalie tells you about the screenplay she was working on, how she plans to direct it as well.

you beam at her revelation seeming genuinely excited at the fact that she’d be making a movie sometime in the future. you tell her that she better invite you to the premiere.

natalie laughs off your comment. she doesn’t tell you how she got back into her writing after she saw you on her screen for the first time, all those months ago.

or how you’re the muse in her next story.

once your ordered food comes in you sit in a comfortable silence as you eat.

“what do you do on your days off?” natalie asks suddenly. she looks up at you through her lashes, her fork playing with the baked eggs on her plate.

you’re so caught off guard by her question it makes you blush at the way she stares you down. you chew down the food in your mouth and answer.

“uh, i like going home, to see my mom. she doesn’t let me stay for more than i need to though, she says i need to go out and meet new people.” you chuckle. your mom was your biggest supporter but also your biggest critic. although she always enjoys her time with you, she was always telling you to go meet with some of your hometown friends.

it’s why you liked going home so much. she’s great at grounding you when you need to be.

“oh? and have you met any new people?” natalie’s interest is piqued by now. she carefully treads around the question, hoping, wishing for any information that’d give her an in into what she desperately wants to know.

who are you with when you’re not alone? who do you think of when you are?

“i mean, i’ve met some really cool people through mutual friends." you reveal.

“wow, so you haven’t met anyone you fancy?” natalie plays it off coolly. she treads along the sacredness that is your romances. and natalie doesn’t mention the fact that she’s read into your love life recently. the rumors of you and another actress.

the one you were pictured with in london very recently.

“huh? oh, no. i don’t really have anyone like that in my life right now.” you nervously chuckle at her question.

“so you and that actress aren’t a couple? you and jenna ortega?” natalie feeds a forkful of food into her mouth, seeming very nonchalant about what she just asked.

you try not to laugh at natalie’s question. your eyebrows raise in surprise at her very forward question. it’s almost comical, really.

jenna was amongst the close group of friends you stayed with while in london.

she was a flame, someone you’d come to deeply admire over the time spent knowing her. she tells you things that you learn from, you check on eachother, you bring eachother back down to earth.

and she was one of the few people you could actually depend on with your life in this industry.

the silent shock wears off. you’re not sure what to say, except the fact that you feel a little embarrassed at her question. that even natalie of all people had heard about your supposed love life.

something that you tried to keep nurtured as much as possible.

“she’s one of my best friends.” you finally say. more sure than anything. you try not to laugh at the accusation. the idea of it seeming so far away from where you are now.

“i haven’t even dated in such a long time.” you even go as far to say. anything to make it clear you’re nowhere near any level of romance with anyone.

you miss the look of surprise on natalie’s face when you say this. she sets her fork down to sip from the breakfast martini she had ordered. she sets her glass down and takes a look at you, leaning forward only slightly.

“i was so sure someone as pretty as you wouldn’t have stayed single for so long.” then she looks down at her plate with a small smile, contemplating. there’s a beat of silence.

finally, she looks up.

“can’t say i’m disappointed at being proved wrong though.” she finishes.

you laugh at natalie’s comment. it’s all you could do, not really sure at what she could be getting at. you even blush a little.

and natalie misses none of it.

[yellowocaballero]

Naruto Roleswap Fic: Sasuke and Obito's Post-Massacre Bonding Hour

“Um…” Tobi wriggled uncomfortably, craning his head to look around the room. There were three boxes near the door, full of clothes and scrolls. “When is Mikoto-nee picking you up?”

Blandly, Sasuke said, “Mother’s dead.”

“Oh.” Tobi picked at his rice consideringly. “Um…what do you mean by that?”

“She’s not picking me up.”

Wow. That sounded - right. It shouldn’t have sounded right, but it sounded right. A memory surfaced, blood-red, and Tobi -

Sasuke and Tobi, after the fact.

This one has a lot of playing with Tobi - what Tobi means to Sasuke, who Sasuke is to Tobi, and what Tobi means to Obito. Very short story featuring a good kid and Konoha's #1 and #2 weirdest men under the cut.

“Your friend will be watching over you,” the man rasped. “Always. So…don’t be sad. And don’t be scared. Your friends are doing it all for you.”

Tobi woke up screaming. 

He bolted upright in bed, tangling himself in his own futon. A nightmare. He hadn’t had a nightmare in a while, had he? It had been about - he couldn’t remember what it was about. Like…something terrible was happening, and everybody was sad, and it was all his fault. 

A small figure in a small futon next to him rolled over, squinting blearily at Tobi. The futon had little duck patterns. It was…so cute. “Did you have a nightmare?”

The small figure was Sasuke. Tobi would recognize that duck-butt hair anywhere, smooshed as it may be. What was Sasuke doing in his bedroom? Some kind of sleepover? That was fucking random. The fuck. 

Still mostly asleep, Tobi mumbled, “Sasuke-chan, why are you here…”

Sasuke stared at him for a long second, two, before turning around and pulling the covers over his head. “I’ll explain in the morning. Go back to sleep.”

“Huh?!”

“Just go back to sleep,” Sasuke repeated. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

And, out of lack of anything better to do, Tobi went back to sleep. 

*

When he woke up the futon beside him was empty and his house smelled like slightly charred fish. Tobi’s first insane thought was that Gai had snuck into his house again, but Gai would have woken him up immediately. Instead of making breakfast. In Tobi’s house.

The full contents of the night returned to Tobi. Right. Sasuke was over for a sleepover. Why couldn’t he remember why? He had the sense that there was some sort of reason, but it was…fuzzy. Weighty, as if there were a great deal of memories swimming underneath the surface, but still a distant shadow rippling on the water. Tobi - 

Didn’t feel like dealing with that, so he went into the kitchen. Sure enough, Sauke was standing on a stack of Rin’s medical textbooks and carefully charring fish on the stove. There were already bowls of miso soup on the table, and the rice cooker was steaming. It was genuinely pretty impressive for an eight year old. Tobi knew that Mikoto had been teaching Sasuke how to cook, but he had really improved since his last attempt. 

“Is it my birthday?” Tobi hazarded. He would remember that, right? “Is…that why Sasuke’s making breakfast?”

Sasuke swallowed a sigh. The daylight streaming through the window cast his face into sharp relief, and Tobi was struck by just how terrible he looked. His eyebags had eyebags, and he had clearly lost weight. Sasuke was such a cheerful kid. The somber countenance just didn’t seem right. It was like he had transformed into Itachi overnight. 

“It’s not your birthday.” Sasuke pointed his cooking chopsticks at the stained table, sending flecks of fish skin everywhere. “Just eat, okay?”

Out of lack of anything more sane to do, Tobi sat and ate. The soup was watery and the rice was burnt at the edges, but not half bad. 

“This is great, Sasuke-chan!” Tobi chirped as Sasuke placed a small plate of fish in front of him. Sasuke sat down in front of his own table setting, grabbing his own chopsticks. Something was so strange about his expression. “This cooking is so adult!”

Normally Sasuke loved being called an adult. But today he just mumbled something and began half-heartedly sticking grains of rice into his mouth. Single grains. He didn’t seem particularly hungry. Tobi had the sense that he had only cooked a meal for him. 

“Um…” Tobi wriggled uncomfortably, craning his head to look around the room. There were three boxes near the door, full of clothes and scrolls. “When is Mikoto-nee picking you up?”

Blandly, Sasuke said, “Mother’s dead.”

“Oh.” Tobi picked at his rice consideringly. “Um…what do you mean by that?”

“She’s not picking me up.”

Wow. That sounded - right. It shouldn’t have sounded right, but it sounded right. A memory surfaced, blood-red, and Tobi -

“So when is Shisui-kun coming over?” Tobi asked cheerfully. “Are we having a playdate?”

Sasuke prodded a sliver of fish. He didn’t look up. Rotely, he said, “Shisui is dead.” Tobi opened his mouth. “No playdates.”

Alright. That was - 

“Then is Itachi-kun picking you up?” Tobi asked, confused. “Who’s picking you up?”

“Itachi Uchiha killed my mother,” Sasuke said. Although - although that made no sense. Although that really didn’t work at all. “Nobody is picking me up. I live here now. ‘Cause you said my house was no good.”

“Oh.”

They ate in silence. Tobi slowly processed all of this information, and some more information besides. Slowly, inch by inch, it began to filter back to him. 

Slowly, Tobi said, “How often have you had to remind me of that, Sasuke?”

“Three times or something.” Sasuke didn’t even pretend to drink his soup. “You aren’t really getting it. That’s okay. Gai-san said that you’ll get used to it.”

And the memories came back and back and back -

“Why did Itachi-kun kill Mikoto-nee?” That just wasn’t tracking. That made no sense. Something about that just wasn’t clicking. Was he just too stupid to get it? Was it something Sasuke could explain?

“‘Cause she was weak,” Sasuke said plainly. “That’s what he said, anyway.”

More information that Tobi just couldn’t process flooded into his mind and he -

*

Fell off the couch.

Tobi sprawled on the floor, blinking up at the ceiling. Sasuke leaned over the edge of the couch, blinking at him. A mutual favorite children’s cartoon blared on the television. 

“Tobi?” Sasuke asked. He - he really didn’t look good. Why didn’t he - “Are you okay?”

“Um. No harm done!” Tobi rolled to his feet, brushing off his shirt and sweatpants. He looked at the television and saw some scary movie with monsters playing. “Aw, Tobi loves this one! I watched it with Sensei.”

“Yeah, you said.” Sasuke gestured a sock vaguely at the seat next to him. Was he folding laundry? “Sit down, you’re blocking the screen.”

“Okay, ohkay.” Wait. Tobi stopped and took a second look at the screen, rubbing his chin. “Wait’a minute. Sasuke-chan, you aren’t supposed to be watching this! Mikoto-nee said you’re too young for monster movies!”

Sasuke rolled some socks together. Terribly. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Well, Mikoto-nee’s dead, so whatever.” Tobi stared blankly at Sasuke. “That means she doesn’t care about my TV, Tobi. Just sit down and don’t worry about it.”

“Ah. Alright.” Tobi slowly sat down. Even slower, he took a pair of socks out of the laundry basket. “Why don’t I show you how to fold socks, Sasuke?”

Sasuke squinted skeptically at Tobi. “You tried to show me how to wash clothing and you just got water all over both of us.”

Automatically, Tobi said, “Was it funny?” Sasuke’s squint turned suspicious, and Tobi quickly said, “Sensei always did the washing, but Tobi and Kushina-nee folded the laundry. We got this!”

What wasn’t he worrying about? 

Oh, yeah. All of the -

*

“ - so go away!”

Tobi slowly walked alongside the wooden walls, one hand trailing the rough wooden edges. They said that Hashirama made this compound for them. A beautiful home, or a bird in a cage? 

A low voice sounded from beyond the open gates. Sasuke was standing on the other side of the gates, behaving quite rudely. Tobi had never heard him so angry. 

“I don’t care!” Sasuke screeched. “We don’t need you, we don’t need anybody! You’re just as useless at this stupid village, so don’t pretend you care! I can take care of him myself and you can heck off!”

“Your passion on the matter is admirable,” a familiar voice said, low and stern, “but you’re still a child, Sasuke. It’s no shame to accept some help.”

“Stick your help up your -”

Tobi skidded to a stop in front of the gate doors. He had started running the second he recognized the voice, and the sight of Maito Gai did not disappoint. He looked particularly unyouthful, which was unusual. Maybe Sasuke’s bad attitude was catching. “Gai! Hi-hi! It’s been forever!”

Gai smiled at him. Just a small smile. Wow. Gai was practically depressed. In front of Tobi, Sasuke was fuming with his arms crossed. His eyebags had eyebags and his skin was white as paper. He looked like Itachi, honestly. “Well met, Tobi. Have you been well?”

“Just peachy!” Tobi said cheerfully. He put a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, who tensed. “Sasuke-chan, what’s with the cold welcome? Gai’s our friend.” 

“We don’t have friends,” Sasuke snapped. “We have fakers. Gai’s a faker so he can go away.”

Wow. Tobi had no idea it was possible to be actively hostile to Gai, of all people. And Sasuke liked Gai! He thought he was funny. Tobi lightly knocked Sasuke on the head. “No insulting our friends, Sasuke-chan! It’s bad hospital. Uh - hopital tea?”

“Hospitality,” the baby dictionary said. 

“Hospitality!” Tobi crowed. “Hospitality is tea and cookies! Yay, cookies!”

“Fine,” Sasuke bit out. He turned on his heel and stalked away. “But he’s not allowed in our house!”

“Our house?” Tobi turned to Gai, frowning a little. “Why is Tobi’s house Sasuke’s house?” Oh, wait! Tobi snapped his fingers. “It’s ‘cause Mikoto-nee and Fugaku-san and Itachi-kun went bye, right?”

Gai placed a hand on Tobi’s shoulder. He was as serious as Tobi had ever seen him. “I’m sorry for your loss, Tobi.”

And Tobi just blinked. “Loss’a what?” Oh, oh, right. That was right. “Um. Yeah! Because they aren’t coming back, right?” 

Gai just stared at him. Awful vibes in this place. 

Even the tea had bad vibes. They ended up sitting at the picnic table outside, clutching cups of lukewarm tea. There were no snacks or anything. They seemed to be out of snacks. Seriously, no junk food? Tobi always bought junk food. Joys of retirement, baby. 

Worse, Sasuke and Gai were having a very serious conversation. Tobi had tried to scamper away three different times just because he hated the atrocious vibes of the conversation, but when they both asked him to stay he reluctantly settled down. Something about how they didn’t want to have the conversation without him. Tobi didn’t see why. It was all going over his head, anyway. 

No it wasn’t. Tobi was a fucking genius, one conversation between an eight year old and Konoha’s second weirdest man didn’t go over his head. Yes it did. It was just too complicated and Tobi would rather think of other stuff. What the fuck was wrong with him, what the fuck -

“There are ANBU assigned to your home for your protection. One of them informed me about the situation.” ‘For their protection’ his ass. They would be lucky if it was real ANBU and not Root. “Has he begun reliably remembering?”

Sasuke scowled. Somehow it felt like his new favorite expression, although it was the first time Tobi had ever even seen him make the expression. Wait, that wasn’t right. What the fuck? “What business is it of yours?”

Gai took a threatening sip of his tea. “It’s me or a doctor, Sasuke-kun.”

It was a bluff, but an effective one. Sasuke took an angry complementary sip of his tea. It was unsweetened, of course. Because he was a big boy! “Whatever. No, he’s not reliably remembering. He’s stopped completely forgetting, but it’s all weird. He’s always convinced that either Itachi Uchiha’s dead or he’s on a freaking market run. I thought he knew what dead people were. He always used to talk about his foster parents.”

Gai rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It took a little while before he settled into that knowledge too. Due to the…circumstances of Rin-chan and Kakashi-kun’s deaths, they were easier to understand. But Minato and Kushina died while he was in a safehouse and guarded by one of the Hokage’s guards. He’s not terribly adept with abstract concepts.”

“What does abstract mean!” Sasuke shouted. Gai explained the meaning of abstract. Both Sasuke and Tobi listened avidly. The definition did not assuage Sasuke. “What’s abstract about this? The ANBU found him hiding underneath a pile of - you know whats!”

“I don’t know what,” Tobi said blankly. Sasuke made a sharp gesture at Tobi - ‘you see?’.

“You told me that he would be back to normal shortly,” Gai told Sasuke sternly. Tobi had never heard Gai be stern in his life. How many times had that man taken a single thing seriously? Was this, like, the first time? “I thought that keeping your environments consistent would be best for the both of you. But I have been told that you have been acting as his full-time caretaker, Sasuke. I applaud your sense of responsibility, but you have taken on far too many responsibilities in far too short a time. When you ought to still be recovering.”

“I am recovered,” Sasuke said, irritable. “They let me out of the hospital, didn’t they?”

“That is not the sort of recovery I mean.”

“Caretaker?” Tobi asked blankly. “Since when do I need a caretaker?”

Both Sasuke and Gai shot him strange looks. A little irritably, Sasuke said, “Since you got distracted trying to cook and forgot to extinguish the fire. You almost burned down the house. And you’re zoned out all the time. And you don’t get stuff as well as you normally do.” 

“That can’t be right.” Something in his tone made Gai raise an eyebrow, but Tobi could barely process that. “I’ve never needed anyone. I’ve been careful about that. What? Sasuke, you’re eight?” His head hurt. His head hurt so much. A monster swam underneath still waters. “What about…uh, Shisui? What about him? Can’t he help?” Memories boiled the ocean, apocalyptic - “Is Itachi-kun on a mission or something?”

Evenly, almost rotely, Sasuke said, “Itachi Uchiha killed cousin Shisui and the rest of our family. They aren’t coming back.”

“Oh.”

Right. That was - that was the situation. 

Sasuke stood up, wiping his hand on his squeaky clean shorts. “Just go away. You’re upsetting him. You think you’re helping but you’re not. I can take care of him and you can’t and nobody cares anyway, so go away.”

No. No, wait. This was fucked up. This was all sorts of fucked up. Sasuke was eight, Tobi was a grown-ass man. And a genius. Whatever happened to that? The genius part? Since when did he need help just to live? Just because he -

Was having blackouts. Since when did he have blackouts? That wasn’t normal, was it? Maybe - maybe once or twice after Sensei and Nee-chan died. Who the hell had babysat him back then, Genma…? Tobi had really put Genma through the wringer, but that was just because it was hilarious. Had Genma actually babysat him?

“I care a great deal, Sasuke!” Gai said boomed. “A passionate and determined friend can always find some way to help! If you’ll just allow me to -”

“Nobody cares about us, so stop pretending like you do!”

“I have been friends with Obito since we were children, Sasuke, you are well aware of -”

Obito. Where the hell was Obito? Where had Obito gone? Was he at the market, waiting just outside? Was he about to come and pick Sasuke up, when would he be home? Whatever happened to Obito Uchiha?

Itachi Uchiha had killed Obito Uchiha and the rest of their family. They weren’t coming back. Obito Uchiha was dead, so he didn’t exactly care about the television Sasuke watched. Obito Uchiha wasn’t coming over for a playdate or picking up the kid, because Itachi Uchiha had killed Obito Uchiha. That was what being dead meant.

“Sasuke,” Tobi said quietly, “here’s what we’re going to do, okay? Please sit down.”

Dumbfounded, Sasuke sat. Tobi squeezed his hands in his lap. Keep it together, keep it together, if the fucking small child could keep it together then he could too, he had to.

“Thank you for wanting to help, Gai,” Tobi said. “I want your help very much. I feel bad making Sasuke do all the work. I’ve been…um, I know I haven’t been remembering much. I’m very sorry…”

“It’s not your fault,” Sasuke said immediately. “It’s Itachi Uchiha’s fault, it’s all his fault!”

That didn’t sound quite right, but for the life of him Tobi couldn’t remember why. “Gai’s a really nice person. Mikoto-nee always told us to be nice, so we should be nice too and let him help. Gai can come over three times a week, okay? He can see if we’re okay. And if I need a little extra help, then he can help. Sasuke, please let him do that.”

Sasuke looked away, fingers crumpling his shorts. His face was red and scrunched. “Whatever.”

“Whatever…what?”

“Yes, Tobi, he can help.”

“Yay. And, um, Gai…” Tobi turned to Gai, fighting the urge to fiddle with his fingers. He had to look straight at him. He had to be brave. “If you’re seen with us too much, things will be bad for you. So we gotta be sometimes friends, okay? And that’s okay. Because Sasuke and Tobi will help each other. We’re the family we have left.” Tobi gave Sasuke a shaky smile. “Your cousin’s sorry that he hasn’t helped you, Sasuke. But that’s not the case anymore. Let’s help each other a lot. Okey-dokey?”

“Yeah,” Sasuke said, sniffling hard, “that’s okay.”

“Yay! Can we get sweets?”

“Ugh, Tobi, that stuff’s so bad for you.”

The next morning, Tobi woke Sasuke up with breakfast. He only did it once: Sasuke got incredibly offended. Tobi hadn’t known that you could eat rice so angrily. Somewhere along the way food became a ‘Sasuke chore’. Laundry became a Tobi chore, once he got the hang of it. They folded laundry together. Usually while watching a scary monster movie. They got hooked on ninja soap operas, though. 

Tobi found Obito again eventually, in bits and pieces. It happened so slowly that he didn’t notice. He only recognized that anything had happened at all during their weekly shopping trip to the market. 

As usual, people were either looking or not-looking at them. They were either gossiping behind their hands or not-gossiping. It was all the same. Sasuke’s shoulders hunched upwards and upwards at every  sideways stare, and Tobi walked loudly and talked louder beside him to draw some of the attention away. Tobi ‘No social graces whatsoever’ Uchiha also enjoyed pointing out large moles on the foreheads of old women, which always satisfied Sasuke. 

People still disliked them. No surprise, considering - a lot of stuff that Tobi still couldn’t fucking remember, damn it. Sasuke definitely noticed, even if he didn’t know why, but he thought Tobi didn’t realize. He furiously tried to protect Tobi from the realization. But he couldn’t do anything about the old lady selling tomatoes from a large wicker basket, barking out prices and bargains to the passerby. 

Sasuke had stopped to salivate after some particularly ripe and juicy tomatoes. Which he could eat like an apple, what a little freak. He had only picked one up to take a closer look at it when the old lady snatched it out of his hands. 

“Don’t steal my goods,” the lady barked. At least three people around them were inspecting the tomatoes too, but she completely ignored them. “Get out of here, git.”

Sasuke drew himself up, breaking out his best scowl. They had grown very impressive. Tobi had the sense that he was proud of them, so far as anybody could be proud of a facial expression. “I was just looking for bruises! What if I wanted to buy one?”

“I’m not so desperate that I need your business,” the lady snapped. Tobi tilted his head. “Now git.”

Tobi looked down at Sasuke, blinking guilelessly. “Our business? Why not us?”

“Stop harassing me and go!”

“How are we harassing you!” Sasuke cried. “You awful old hag -” 

Then the people around them were whispering, and some were tittering, and Sasuke’s cheeks reddened. He dropped the tomato back in the basket and turned around on his heel, hoisting his basket higher on his little shoulder. “C’mon, Tobi, let’s go.”

Tobi saluted. “Okey-dokey!”

He made it two steps before he delivered a delicious pratfall over the basket of tomatoes. It practically happened in slow motion: Tobi tripped over an errant tomato, slipped on it with a thick squelch, and toppled backwards with pinwheeling arms onto the basket of tomatoes. He squealed, his landing cushioned by the wicker basket, but the tomatoes went everywhere. Some of them even splattered the tittering women, who screamed as if boiling water was dumped on them. And the old hag ended up with a big fat faceful of tomato. 

“Whoops,” Tobi announced, scrambling back upwards. “My bad. C’mon, let’s vamoose!”

They sprinted out of the market, weaving between the crowds and ignoring the furious howls of bitchy old women. When Tobi glanced to the side he saw Sasuke furiously stifling laughter, chest heaving with exertion from the run, before he couldn’t hide it anymore - he laughed, gasping and wheezy and light. When Sasuke looked at Tobi, he saw a gleam in his eye and the faintest hint of a smirk. 

Sasuke’s eyes widened. “Wait. Was that on pur -”

Tobi held one finger to his lips, winking. “Let’s not tell Gai-kun about this, okey-dokey?”

And Sasuke grinned, knowing without understanding that he was seeing a flash of the biggest secret in Konoha. “Okey-dokey!”

Tobi did not remember what he knew about the Uchiha Massacre until much later. What he had known before it had even happened. But that, at least, he knew was in self-defense.

[artmopworks]

added yuuta and did a quick color!

Some head canons that could either work in DF au or in just in general. This isn't an exhaustive list by any means but these are some that really stick in my brain for some reason.

Toge:

-Goes through a period of intense self reflection and weed use in his mid 20s.

-He grows his hair out and wears it in a bun for about year. Maki would say he was depressed but he denies it for awhile before seeking help.

- Definitely had a phase where he does nothing but build Gundam's in his spare time.

-Finally accepts his lactose intolerance at 29 after Yuuta kicks him out of bed for the 10th night in a row because he insisted on having ice cream for dessert.

-Makes a point of telling Yuuta and Maki he loves them every day.

Maki:

-Gets a trendy short hair cut in her early 20s and is unable to look in the mirror for at least 3 months after as she would only see mai looking back at her.

-After years of rejecting her own femineity as a result of struggling for acceptance from her clan in her youth, she finally embraces the idea that she can enjoy feminine things without it being seen as a sign of weakness.

-Nishimiya and Miwa made a point of visiting with Maki after they graduate to share stories about Mai. The three of them eventually become close friends.

-gets really into knitting in her 30s. Toge teases her once and she throws one of the needles so hard it sticks in the wall 2 inches from his head. He never teases her about it again.

Yuuta:

-incredibly doting on Toge and Maki. She asks him to chill out after the 4th time they're mistaken for a married couple in public. He does not.

-Goes through a depressive period right along with Toge, often encouraging, albeit unknowingly, some of their more reclusive behaviors.

-Gets super into barefoot style footwear in his early 30s. Toge hated the way all his shoes looked. Later realized it was giving him knee pain and gave it up.

-Full on coffee snob in his mid 20s.

-Reconnects with his parents and younger sister after graduating and they happily accept Toge as part of their family.

-Regularly has "bro time" with Hakari.

feel free to comment your head canons about these 3!