#my old manager at my last job would even talk about how I should start a chocolate shop and then hire her to be my marketing manager

[slippery-minghus]

god i feel so fucking stuck. it doesn't sound like i'm getting that job i really wanted after all, which means my only real option forward is to take the supervisor role being created in my office.

they want me for this role. everyone at office level who advocated for its creation had me in mind. it's not really a career path i'm interested in, but it's something.

only problem is my patience and tolerance for Nightmare Coworker is getting shorter by the day. she blew a gasket again today when some r&d folks—whose arrival had only been mentioned to me offhand—showed up. because she wasn't told by the manager herself. she stormed away to go on a walk, came back, and stormed away again to have a long chat with the manager. manager is apparently only doing what the previous one instructed her to: rely on the two point people in the clinics. which, yanno, makes sense.

(fuck. maybe i should take the managerial track. so i can be there for my team like my managers in this job haven't been, and fire the fucking toxic mold spore before she infects the clinic.) (and honestly, because no one has left over her yet, that's likely why nothing has happened. but where the fuck am i supposed to go? back to the fucking donut shop???)

Nightmare Coworker is in absolute denial that she is not The Best, in denial that people with some modicum of power in our office want me promoted, and in denial that it could ever fucking happen. the only thing she has convinced herself of is that i'm going to "get promoted and leave" which. i fucking WISH.

but here we are. no offer in sight for the thing i want most right now. no exit signs for hundreds, if not thousands of miles from here.

i want to take that damn supervisor promotion, but i can't even message my own manager without Nightmare Coworker reading slack over my shoulder and then having a meltdown about it. how am i supposed to go talk privately to my manager, have an interview with her? Nightmare Coworker's going to fucking flip her shit when the reality of an internal promotion with my name on it comes to light. and i DON'T have the energy to cope with it. the only outcome that might not break me is if she has a massive meltdown and quits on the spot. no notice. and i don't know how realistic that is to expect.

myself and others at this office are surprised and demoralized that Nightmare Coworker was not fired months ago. and honestly in hindsight i think Old Manager was far too soft. he was supportive, but too supportive, to the fault that accommodating everyone means accommodating no one. and current manager is spread paper thin, which is why she needs an office supervisor. but the window to get this person fired without invoking catastrophe has long since passed.

i wish i could turn my cold, frozen fear into spite or vengeance. to internally be grinning from the sidelines as i light the match and toss it into the massive pile of kindling and firewood that Nightmare Coworker has dug herself into, and set her ablaze. i wish i could feel anything other than fear.

[smutoperator]

Get It Like Boom Boom Boom

Kim Chaewon x Male Reader

Tags: anal, creampie, dirty talk, dominant woman, facefucking, grinding, multiple orgasms, ruined orgasm.

Word count: 2839.

Chaewon is a girl with not many moments for herself. Between her hectic schedules and her tough job as a leader of one of the most famous new kpop groups, pleasure is hard to come by. However, she always manages to get some deserved escapes from such a strenuous schedule. Tonight she wants it to be one of those nights where she leaves all the stress behind her and just gets to enjoy herself.

"I'm in need of a thrill I haven't experienced in a long time", she told herself. Searching her phone she finds your contact. You hadn't met Chaewon since the moment Iz*one became a page in kpop's history. Since then, she had switched agencies, debuted under a new group and rose to new levels of fame. She was busy and never called you, That is, until this day.

You got surprised when you got her message. "I want to come to your apartment, have some fun you know". You thought she would have just forgotten about an old fling she hadn't seen in years, but it wasn't the case. As you learned, Chaewon always remembers everything.

You had a tough day at work, tired and trying not to sleep, you waited for Chaewon. The night passed by: 7 PM, 8 PM, 9 PM, almost 10, and she hadn't showed up. Maybe she was just pulling a prank on you, but then she finally arrived, wearing a sultry black dress that caught you by surprise. You were still wearing your work attire as you were so tired you couldn't even take it off. "How are you doing?", she asked. "Better than ever", you lied to her. "That's nice to hear", she replied.

Chaewon quickly made up for the wasted time as she unbuttoned your shirt and sit on your lap. "Let's make it even better", she said, gripping her nails against your torso as she slid her hands down your body. It wasn't long until she unbuttoned your pants, revealing your massive member down there. Chaewon grabbed your cock with both hands and started smiling, eager to take on your full length. She took one lick from the bottom to the top and released a little cute moan, before taking it in her mouth. You quickly got aroused, despite looking extremely sleepy.

Chaewon took that cock down her throat, reminding you of how good her blowjob abilities were from the get go. You could only admire as she took it balls deep until gagging, then picked up the pace as she jerked you off. The way she slurped all over it quickly sent shivers down your spine, as she took it again deep in her throat. Chaewon got bragged about her skills, telling you "I should have made you wait even more for that, so easy". She was both being a cocky sucker and a cocksucker to you.

"Fuck my face", she told you, as you thrust upwards into her pussy-esque throat. Dok dok dok dok the sound of that pole hitting her deep in the hole. Chaewon took a deep breath and released your cock, screaming "HOLY FUCK YEAH!", sucking it even harder and not caring if you were to cum right there. However, just as she sensed you were getting close, she said "See you tomorrow" and abruptly left the room. You were confused, maybe she just wanted a little fun, what if she was lying to you? But you just had to resign yourself to sleep.

Just as you sensed your clothed penis being touched by a piece of fabric, you heard a familiar voice. "Wake up", it was Chaewon, sitting herself on your morning wood. It was definitely worth the wait as your cock looked much fuller than yesterday, and you had recovered your energies.

"I wanna see if that's good enough to destroy my ass", Chaewon told you. What a difference from that girl you met years ago that asked you to be gentle because your cock was the first she took up her ass. Now it's like breakfast for her, just a regular part of her sex diet. "You looked rusty last night, maybe you were just beginner level", she mocked you. "No I'm fine", you told her. "I'm not so sure you're strong enough to take on me again", she trashed talked you while grinding her clothed pussy against your hard dick, taking off her bra and moaning softly.

Chaewon turned back and asked again if you were strong enough. You replied positively to her. "Then show me", she shot back, grabbing your cock and restarting to suck it off just like the day before, this time giving you a panoramic view of her ass in lingerie. "Look at this big fucking cock, it's gonna look so good in my ass", she said, before deepthroating you.

"Fuck it deep into my throat", she ordered you as you pounded even harder and deeper inside it. Chaewon had a throat of steel it seemed, as she could take all those poundings while barely gagging. "MORE", she screamed as she coughed on your veiny prick. "Punch it in there, daddy". Gagging, sucking, spitting, jerking, Chaewon did them all with your cock. "You love it on my whore mouth don't you?", she kept provoking. "Look how I am such a nasty fucking slut with this dick daddy", she said, turning you on to fuck her face even harder.

"I want every inch of it in my asshole, hit it just you hit the back of my fucking whore mouth", Chaewon teased you. "God I want this fucking cock inside me so bad, shove it deep in my ass daddy", she kept saying, giving you tender kisses. You put her back facing the sky, taking her panties off and preparing her for the pounding. Chaewon got on all fours and tilted her ass to the sky and shoved it in your face, twerking it as you were eating her bunghole. "I know what you fucking want", she said.

As you tongued her anus first with deep movements then going rapidly up and down, Chaewon told you to keep going, "Shove that tongue in my asshole", she said. Chaewon now lost all her composure, looking like a mess in distress. "Oh yes daddy", she uttered alongside many loud moans as you kept showing your tongue and even sniffing your nose up her butthole. You spat in her shitter, a move that drew lots of approval from this little whore. "Spit in there, daddy, get it warmed up for that big cock". Many could only wish to taste her forbidden fruit, but you were the lucky one taking it fully.

And indeed, a few spits was all you needed. Her hole was very tight but once you managed to get your tip in, it engulfed your cock like a black hole engulfs light. "Bury that hard dick inside me", Chaewon ordered, and was quickly served. "Now we are talking, make that asshole yours daddy", Chaewon said alternating between moans and screams that only got louder. "Give it to me", she said.

As you stretched her shithole, Chaewon behaved more and more like a whore. "That dick is so big inside me, so good, so deep". The harder Chaewon told you to fuck her ass, the deeper you went, slapping her balls against her cunt and make her feel even more sensations quivering into her body. You spanked her asscheeks, your balls clapping against them as you went faster and harder inside her anus

"FUUUCK, YESSS, stuff me like that", Chaewon uttered. "Fuck me like a whore, slap those balls like boom boom boom", she said, asking for more just as you pulled out, she still on all fours. But not for long. "Please give me more", she asked. And sure you did, mounting on top of her like a bull, while she fingered herself to get even more stimulation. "I love how you shove those balls deep inside me", she told you, and then screamed the hardest moan yet.

"Stretch it wide open", she kept ordering, grabbing your cock with her hands and directing it inside her butthole. "God keep me fucking like this you're gonna make me cum", she told you. "Make me cum daddy, don't fucking stop", she said just as you hit her balls deep. Chaewon then stuffed two of her fingers in her pussy, fucking it herself and getting close to cum. "You are so deep in my ass, let me spread that asshole", Chaewon said, before releasing her juices into the bedsheets as you kept burying it inside her. "Daddy I can't get enough, my ass is so fucking full". Just a few seconds of you pulling it out already had her begging to shove it in. "Stuff me all the way up".

Boom boom boom got your balls slapping on her. "YES I'M CUMMING", she screamed, while twerking her ass against your hips to get that boom boom boom you were giving her even harder. The little mess, still recovering from her orgasm, pulled out and went straight up to taste her nasty butthole straight from your cock. You gave her no rest, fucking her skull just as she inserted her filthy mouth in your prick. "You taste so good out of my ass", she replied, followed by a succession of jerk offs and ordering you to shove it the back of her throat, her eyes rolling as her throat got smacked by your big sausage.

Chaewon spat on your cock, quickly asking "don't you love that sloppy tongue all over that cock daddy? Milking the shit out of it", she said as she started licking your balls like an insane slut. You told her to turn around and shoved it back in her asshole, well lubed by her excelled blowjob skills. Now she could only moan and scream as you kept stretching her. "That ass is all fucking yours daddy, keep stretching me like a bitch", she said.

You switched positions, taking her ass in a spooning position, where now you could see the reaction on her face every time you pumped her. As you started to finger her cunt, Chaewon quickly reacted "shove those fingers in my pussy daddy please, I love getting both my fuckholes stuffed. FUCK ME LIKE THE SLUT I AM". You kept going, now spitting on her pussy, to which Chaewon engulfed it like it was your cum filling her womb. That whore was insatiable, the more you attacked and destroyed her, the more she kept asking for it.

"Fuck me harder, fuck me like a little fucking slut, or just fuck me, I don't care", she kept telling you. "HARDER, HARDER", Chaewon was begging. She really wanted that boom boom boom sound of your balls clapping against her again, it was such a huge turn on. Once she got it, her already wet pussy started to cream even further. "BABY YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM AGAIN". You groaned as you keep shoving it, her telling lies about loving you beyond that throbbing member you were using to stretch her.

You kept pounding Chaewon, while also slapping her wet pussy and put your fingers on her needy mouth. "Keep going keep going, fuck me harder", she kept telling you, demanding you nothing but your best. "Fuck me up daddy". She was taking your stamina like no whore had ever done. "Don't stop, I'm gonna fucking cum", and she finally did, as you boom boom boom'd her ass once again. "That cock looks so good, that big thick yummy cock", she said. Chaewon set things straight, only praising you after you made her cum.

Chaewon spread her cheeks, showing you her gaped poop chute after the pounding you gave her. "Yes I love how you gape my asshole", she told you. "Look how I only spread that asshole wide open only for you daddy. I just came, and you're gonna make me fucking cum again". Chaewon kept getting sluttier and sluttier, but she wasn't done yet. "Fuck me harder baby, shove it up my guts, destroy me. I love those balls pounding against me. Fuck me like your little bitch", she kept telling you.

Chaewon took a break to suck your cock again, giving her classic sloppy blowjob. The little cocksucker shoved it balls deep, as you also dunked her head deep into your meaty pole. You kept fucking, but her throat just didn't bulge. "I want you to ride that cock", you told, trying to save your face against an insatiable Chaewon. She quickly sat on it and saw you thrust upwards against her asshole. But she didn't cave in easily, taking herself control of the ride and putting you on the verge of cumming, making you search for the worst thoughts deep inside your head just so you wouldn't give in.

"I wanna fucking milk it", Chaewon stated her intentions loud and clear, it was now a battle to not cum inside her butthole. You had enough of it and decided to take control, giving Chaewon a full nelson. But that only made her fire burn harder. "Slap those balls against me, spread that ass like I'm the biggest whore". "Keep it wide open", you answer back. "Yes use me baby, fuck that tight little asshole", Chaewon was quick and punched back. You spanked her cheeks, fingered her pussy, but nothing seemed to throw her out of her rythm. "Make my legs shake, fuck my asshole", she said.

You kept doing the work and pounding her down low but the one enjoying the ride was Chaewon, draining your energy while hers seemed endless. "Wreck that little asshole, fuck it hard, I can't get enough", Chaewon quickly pulled out and sat on your sweaty face, grinding that pussy and anus against your skin. "Yes daddy", Chaewon said as you ate both her fuckhole, quickly moving to another session of sitting on your hard cock, she wouldn't rest until you unleashed that white milk, and you knew that.

"Pound it up against me, that's your fucking asshole", Chaewon's incentives were hard to resist. "YES I'M CUMMING", Chaewon screamed as she released a fountain of squirt from her pussy, quickly recovering for another wild ride, and then speading her legs getting herself out to swallow your big dick down her throat. "I want more", she said as you spread her cheeks and gave her another full nelson. "Use my little fucking shithole, open me wide. Baby I need you to fuck me harder". Chaewon got out of breath as you pump on her harder than ever. "GET IT LIKE BOOM BOOM BOOM, GET IT LIKE BOOM BOOM BOOM", she started to sing like you were just a stage for her to perform. And what a performance she was giving.

"Come here", you told her. You had finally waived the white flag, putting her in missionary until you manage to cum inside her fudge factory. Chaewon knew it, telling how weak you were and begging you to be a real man and give her the biggest shot of semen she had ever got. She moaned as you put your finger in her pussy and kept going in and out of, according to her own words, gaped asshole.

"Pump it, pump it", she told you like a motivator. "Look at my whore eyes while you fuck me. Yes daddy, bury it in there, I'm such a fucking whore, my asshole is so fucking filled, my little pink asshole. Use that fuckhole, it's all yours". Chaewon couldn't stop talking, claiming her victory over you. "Tear me up, tear that asshole, fuck me like your dirty little whore".

You spit again in her asshole, Chaewon giving once again approval "you're spitting cause you wanna cum inside there don't you?". You finger her pussy, eliciting more moans from her "Don't stop, make me fucking cum again", she mandated. "HARDER HARDER I'M GONNA CUM", she screamed right after, her pussy sending a flow of juices right to your hips, her holes clenching and making yourself get close too.

"I wanna feel that warm hot load buried in my asshole. I wanna feel that cock exploding inside me. Give me every drop of that milky load, make me your cumslut, please, please, please", Chaewon said, and just like thar as she uttered those words, an explosion of sperm was felt hitting the depths of her shithole, your fully swollen cock giving in. Chaewon scooped it out straight into her mouth, swallowing that jizz like the slut she was. And just like that, it was over, it didn't even looked like it lasted under 40 minutes as you felt like she gave you a four hour fuck.

And if girls wanna have fun, Chaewon surely did after that.

My first smut. Maybe it was too repetitve but the point is simple: queen Chaewon getting fucked in the ass with many references from Le Sserafim's extremely milked hit mostly known as Get it Like Boom Boom Boom.

[therealcocoshady]

Hi coco , I don’t know if your still doing requests if not juts by past this .

Fem reader x Marshall

Reader is some sort of celebrity and her and Marshall’s sex tape gets leaked

SECRETS OUT - ONE SHOT

Eminem x Celebrity Reader

Author’s note : Thank you so much for your request. I Hope you like it ❤️. I thoroughly enjoyed writing one shots and HCs so if you have requests, feel free to send them to me in my Ask.

Synopsis : You’re a prominent influencer, having a secret relationship with Em for years. None of you intend on making it public… until your sextape gets leaked.

When you started dating Marshall, the two of you had a serious talk about how important it was to him that your relationship remained private. He knew that you shared a lot of your life online - hell, it was kind of your job as an influencer - and respected it, but he was adamant about not being featured on your social media accounts and YouTube channel. You respected his wish. To be honest, you were a little relieved : your last relationship had ended because of public scrutiny and you didn’t want history to repeat itself. Especially since the person you were dating was a megastar. No offense to your ex, who was still a very successful influencer, but next to Marshall Mathers, he was chopped liver. If publicly dating someone with ten million YouTube followers was hard, you couldn’t imagine how it would be if everyone knew you were dating Eminem.

You actually did a good job at keeping your followers and his fans in the dark about your relationship. To everyone, the both of you were single and, even though they were rumours about the two of you dating other public figures, you had never been linked together. No one expected you, a twenty-something fashion and beauty influencer to date Eminem. From the looks of it, you didn’t have much in common and didn’t run in the same circles.

So your relationship flew under the radar for years and you even managed to get married without the public knowing. You had the most beautiful wedding, held in a secluded location with only your closest friends, with a lot of logistics and NDAs involved. Everyone joked that you had to be the only influencer who didn’t share the most important day of their life on social media. Especially when the wedding was so insta-worthy. A few years ago, you would have been a little bummed about it, but being with Marshall kept you grounded and reminded you that not everything was meant to be shared online. If anything, the secrecy of your wedding and the « no phones or camera allowed » rule allowed everyone to enjoy the moment instead of focusing on filming it or snapping pictures of their plates or outfit. That didn’t mean there were no pictures taken though. The only person who immortalised the wedding was the photographer and, though guests were sent the pictures, they were asked not to share, and everyone respected your wishes.

Just because the two of you didn’t share pictures online didn’t mean you didn’t take plenty. In fact, your phones were full of cute selfies of the two of you. At the beginning of your relationship, he often made fun of your habit to try and immortalise moments, but he ended up getting into it. When the two of you met, he was still using an old BlackBerry and took the crappiest selfies, but you managed to turn him into the perfect Instagram husband. In fact, he was the one who helped you do your daily outfit posts and he was more than decent at telling you how you should pose. And if he was a bit judgy of influencers at first, he had come to understand your line of work and your love of fashion. He was extremely supportive of every thing you did and his eyes were gleaming with adoration when he was watching you film your videos, though he still liked to tease you.

One evening, during your honeymoon, you found him filming himself in the mirror as you walked out of the bathroom in your finest, sluttiest lingerie.

- What are you doing ? You giggled.

- Immortalising the outfit. So, it’s simple, the boxers are Givenchy, fall collection… care to share yours ? He chuckled as he pointed the phone to you.

- So tonight, I’m wearing a gorgeous Dita Von Teese set, you said as you posed and played along. We have this gorgeous corset, and the panties are amazing, too…

- Turn around and show the back, babe, he instructed. You’re gorgeous.

This became a little game that you played during the whole honeymoon. Each night, Marshall filmed you in your lingerie, under the pretense that he wanted to remember your honeymoon as vividly as possible. This made you laugh and you let him. It started as « innocent » « outfit of the night » videos but, on occasion, you both felt frisky and ended up filming a literal sex tape, or rather a series of them. Nothing especially elaborate, just one of you holding the phone while doing the deed, just for laughs. You didn’t even watch them after or think about it. It was really just the two of you clowning around, making fun of your own IG account and enjoying your honeymoon. Once you got back home, you didn’t keep it going and eventually came to forget there were videos of you and Marshall having sex on his phone. Until the videos were leaked, that is.

You had been married for about six months and enjoyed your weekly brunch with Marshall’s daughters when they suddenly went silent, after Stevie showed her sisters something on her phone.

- Oh my God, I’m going to puke, Stevie said.

- Girls, no phone at the table, Marshall groaned.

- Have you guys… seen the news ? Hailie asked.

- What news ? You asked back, a tad confused.

- The Pistons headline, Alaina said.

- What’s wrong with the team ? Marshall asked with a raised eyebrow.

The girls frowned and stayed silent for a second before handing the phone to the two of you. There was an article about you and Marshall, soberly titled : « Detroit’s ultimate Piston : Eminem sextape leaked (featuring influencer Y/N ». The headline was enough to make you want to die. The article wasn’t much better. It commented on the videos and showed a few screenshots of tweets reacting to the leak such as « Bro can’t take a decent selfie but you can trust him to point the camera at his dick correctly 👀 » or « Damn. He’s 51 but Y/N’s the one who’s gonna need hip replacement surgery with these trusts 💀». You and Marshall stared at each other while the girls were looking at you. You felt humiliated. Not only were the videos leaked online, you were confronted by your step-daughters - though they were old enough to be your sisters - about it. You looked down, absolutely mortified.

- Don’t watch these, Marshall told his daughters.

- Like we’d want to see that, Stevie pointed out.

- Really, guys, a sextape ? Alaina asked. Dad, you’re 51 !

- I’m going to be sick, you said as you left the table and headed to your room.

You heard Marshall calling your name but there was absolutely no way you could face anyone right now. Once you were alone, you anxiously checked your phone. Of course, everyone was in a frenzy. Your manager was texting you and your social media accounts were flooded. Both in the comments and your DMs, people were going crazy and talking about the videos. You already had a huge following, but it was something else entirely. You immediately called your manager, who was beyond pissed. Apparently, some brands you collaborated threatened to sever their ties with you. Of course, you getting rammed on video didn’t really fit in with your usual good girl image and it wouldn’t be a good look for them. Now, not only were you ashamed but you were also terrified. You had worked too hard for your career to crumble that easily.

- What should I do ? You anxiously asked.

- For now, nothing, she said. I’m going to consult with a few people to see what we can do for damage control. Though if I were you I’d get ready to film an apology video.

- I didn’t do anything wrong, you pointed out. These videos were not meant to be shared.

- You know how it is, Y/N. I’ll get back to you ASAP.

- Thanks, you said sheepishly. Talk to you soon.

When you hung up, you couldn’t resist the temptation to go and check other articles. Obviously, news traveled fast and you were now a trending subject. Marshall being the more famous of the two of you, his name was on every headline but, from the looks of it, you were the one whose reputation was suffering the most. While everybody seemed to praise his performance - and impressive physique - you were deemed a slut by the Internet. Even worse, some people were already making memes with your face and some rappers beefing with Marshall were reposting them. You had always been a « glass half-full » type of person but you literally wanted to die. In a flash, it seemed like you could kiss your career and reputation goodbye.

After about an hour, Marshall joined you in the bedroom and took you in his arms while you were sobbing.

- Hey, he said sheepishly.

- I-I’m sorry, you said. But I can’t go and face your daughters. I just can’t. I can’t face anyone right now, I-I…

- It’s fine, he replied before kissing your forehead. I sent them home.

- Im sorry, you said. I know how much family brunch means to you…

- As it turns out, having your kids lecture you about your leaked sextape isn’t as fun as people make it out to be, he said sarcastically.

You couldn’t help but chortle. Even in this type of dramatic situations, you could always count on Marshall’s dry humor. He placed another kiss on your forehead and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

- We’ll be fine, he said reassuringly. Don’t worry, babe.

- Why aren’t you freaking out ? You asked. You should be freaking out.

- Oh, I’m freaking out, he said. I mean, I’m livid. But on a practical level, I know people will forget about it eventually, you know.

- Easy for you to say, you pointed out. The Internet is raving about the size of your dick and commenting about how in shape you are for an older dude… meanwhile, people are calling me a slut.

- You’re not a slut, he said as he rolled his eyes.

- Tell that to the thousand of people calling me a rapper groupie or whatever that is, you groaned.

- Doesn’t matter, he shrugged. We both know that’s not true. You’re not a groupie, you’re my wife.

- Well I’m about to be a stay at home wife, you said with tears in your eyes. I had my agent on the phone and sponsors are already breaking contracts… I-I’m losing everything, Marshall…

The tears started streaming down again. Mentioning the situation out loud was upsetting, it only meant it was real. You were really on the verge of losing everything. Your husband knew better than anyone how much your career meant to you, the work you put in and everything you had invested to be successful. To you, it wasn’t just a job : it was your dream. You had always tried your best to have a pristine reputation as an influencer and stay out of drama but now, people were looking down on you and calling you names. And you dreaded the perspective of doing an apology video. It was humiliating. In most recent years, you had focused your content on beauty and fashion instead of your private life but now, it was up for public consumption. Marshall held you tight as you told him about the comments you received and how sad you were about losing collaborations you were looking forward to.

- You don’t need these people’s money, he said.

- You know it’s not a matter of money, you replied curtly. It’s never only been about money. It’s more than that.

- I know, he said. But look, these videos were stolen from us. And if these brands who put that much effort into building a so-called relationship with you drop you easily, it’s not worth it. They should be sending you flowers and publicly supporting you.

- You know that’s not how it works, you sighed.

- All I’m saying is that it’s unfair, he said. And I’m sorry you’re going through this. But I know you. You’re strong and you’re resilient. And your followers love you. You’re not going to lose your career over this.

- I’ll do my best, you shrugged. My agency wants me to film an apology video.

- Are they serious ? He groaned. You don’t have to apologise for shit. These videos were fucking stolen, Y/N !!!

He was clearly mad. Funnily enough, he seemed more angry over the unfairness of the situation than the fact that everyone could see him having sex on video. But then again, it probably had something to do with his reputation being pretty intact. Sure, that would probably earn him a few lines in diss tracks people might be tempted to put out, but there wasn’t much to be ashamed of, as far as he was concerned. First of all, the videos clearly made a good job of shutting down rumours about his size, and he still came across as someone who had sex. On the other hand, you were more visible on the videos and earning a reputation of an easy and slutty influencer, hungry for fame. Typical double standard. You cursed whoever had managed to steal these videos. And deep down, you were mad that they had been so easily stolen.

- Why were they stolen in the first place ? You groaned.

- What ? He asked. You know how it is… people’s phones get hacked all the fucking time. Whoever did that was probably hoping to get their hands on new music. Joke’s on them, though. We only function with CDs to avoid this type of leaks.

- Joke’s on them ?! You almost yelled. The joke is on me !!! I couldn’t care less about your CDs. No offense but I’d rather have your album leaked than my career ruined, Marshall !!!

- Sorry, he said as he nervously scratched his beard. Poor choice of word. Of course it’s worse. What I mean is… hacks happen all the time. Every month there’s a new story about a celebrity’s phone or computer or cloud being hacked.

- And I’m usually over here, making fun about people who don’t know how to protect their data, you said as you rolled your eyes. The most basic thing to do is to at least put this type of photos in a folder that requires double authentication.

- Double what ?

He looked at you with big eyes. Of course, he had no idea what you were talking about. « That’s what you get for marrying a dummy when it comes to technology », you thought. You didn’t want to get mad at him, but you were pissed. You rolled your eyes at him and let your head fall on the pillow.

- I have to go and call Paul, he said. We’re both going to have to do damage control. But we’ll be fine, I promise you.

- Mmmmh, you groaned.

- I’ll do my best to find whoever did that and sue their ass, he assured you. And whoever shares these videos, too. When we got married, I swore I would protect you and you best believe I’m making good on that.

- Thanks, you said sheepishly.

The following couple of days were especially tough. News had obviously traveled fast and everyone in your life knew about the videos. You thought facing Hailie, Alaina and Stevie was hard, but FaceTiming with your parents was even harder. You could tell they were disappointed, and mostly worried for you. Both of your management teams were trying to find the best way to get through it. Unfortunately, crisis management wasn’t the same for a rapper as it was for an influencer. Marshall’s team advised him to stay silent while yours was almost begging you to address the elephant in the room, preferably with your husband, who was an ogre about it.

- I’m not appearing in your damn apology video, he groaned. It’s stupid enough that you have to do one of these.

- I have to do what’s best for my career, you pleaded.

- You always said these videos were disingenuous, he pointed out.

- Well, yes, but what am I going to do ? You groaned. Disappear and kiss my career goodbye ? And I’m not you, Marshall. I can’t just ignore it and go back to posting videos as if nothing happened.

He hummed and you kept talking about it, trying to come up with a solution. You weren’t thrilled about the idea of addressing the situation and he was right : you had nothing to apologise for. And he was fully against the idea of standing next to you like a First Lady while you filmed something so silly. Of course, it turned into an argument. There was only so much pressure you could take. And you knew Marshall was doing his best and keeping in touch with his lawyers, but you were mad that he wouldn’t support you publicly.

- I’m asking you to stand next to me for a damn video, that’s all, you sighed. I’m not asking for the moon, here. You don’t even have to say anything.

- Then what’s the point in me being here at all ? He shrugged. We agreed that I would be kept out of your content, Y/N. That was clear from the start.

- Because everyone thinks I’m a whore ! You yelled. I was fine with people not knowing about us, but I am not fine with people calling me a rapper whore. And I am not fine with my husband not supporting me. You said we were a team ! You promised to care for me and protect me for the rest of our lives. Or were these vows just words to you ?!?!

You knew he would be pissed off by your words. He had always made it clear that his vows were absolutely serious and solemn. And you knew for a fact that he had put a lot of heart and thought into writing them. He didn’t say anything, just sighed and left the room. Obviously, you both needed to take time off because this escalated into an argument. You groaned and stayed in the bedroom, which you had barely left since the videos had leaked.

A couple of hours later, you went downstairs and found Marshall watching some boxing match on TV.

- Hey, you said sheepishly.

- Hey, he simply said.

- Look, I’m sorry, I…, you began.

- Don’t sweat it, he shrugged as he gestured for you to come sit on his lap.

You sat on him and watched with him in silence, enjoying the sensation of his arms wrapped around your waist. When the match ended, he turned off TV and smiled at you.

- I took care of things, he said.

- You did ? You asked.

- I did, he confirmed. You don’t need to film that stupid video.

- What did you do ? You asked with a raised eyebrow.

He seemed pretty sure of himself, proud even, and you tried hard not to show it, but you were still a bit doubtful.

- Check Instagram, he simply said as he handed you your phone.

You nervously checked your account. You were tagged in thousands of new posts. Only these weren’t posts of the sex videos. Your account was flooded with pictures of your wedding, posted by your friends and reposted by tons of fan accounts. Your closest influencer friends had posted the beautiful pictures of them with you at the wedding. Marshall’s friends had done the same : 50, Dre, Porter, Royce… everyone was posting about your nuptials. The most beautiful shot was the one shared by Marshall on his account : a gorgeous black and white shot of the two of you after the reception, holding hands and staring at the fireworks, captioned : « For better & for worse. Happy 6 months anniversary. ». Everyone was going absolutely crazy in the comments, not failing to show their surprise and mentioning that he was now following one account : yours. You looked at him, almost crying and took him in your arms.

- Oh my God, you said. I can’t believe you did this.

- Called in a few favors and asked our friends to post the wedding pictures, he said with a smile. I figured the Internet would focus on these rather than the videos. So far it seems to be working…

- You didn’t have to, you said emotionally. I know you wanted to keep the wedding a secret.

- I also wanted to keep our sex life secret, he chuckled. But I care more about you and supporting you. Now, everyone knows I have your back. Until death do us part. And if anyone dares come for you, I will end them. I promise.

- I love you, you said emotionally.

- I love you too, he replied before kissing you. I’m sorry I was grumpy about the whole thing. You were right, these vows were never meant to be just words. I want to put them in action.

You kissed him passionately and you both took a minute to enjoy the posts everyone made about your wedding, reminiscing about that special day.

- I’m happy I don’t have to make that stupid apology video, you confessed.

- Me too, he chuckled. I did make an apology though.

- You did ? You asked in surprise.

He showed you his IG story. A black screen with simple text - in true influencer fashion : « I want to take a minute to apologize about the videos that have been leaked. I am sorry if anyone was confused. They were misleading and I want to state that the boxers were actually not Givenchy but Calvin Klein. Sorry for the confusion. 👀». You chortled and kissed him.

- What ? That was the only thing worth an apology, he pointed out with a smile.

- You’re such a troll, you said as you playfully rolled your eyes.

You spent the following days in bliss, showered with love from both your followers and his fans. Everyone was going crazy about your wedding and, even though there were still mentions of the sextape, most of the attention was focused on your relationship. Both of your management teams were also happy to put the incident behind them, though now they had to deal with plenty of interview requests. However, you agreed that even though your secret was out, nothing would really change. You slowly got back to business. Though nothing didn’t really change for Marshall - who was always in hermit mode in the studio - you had a lot of new followers and tons of collaboration requests. The sponsors who had been quick to drop you even came back and attempted to suck up to you, though you absolutely refused to work with them again. You were in your home office, reviewing partnership requests when you came across the biggest offer of your career : none other than Calvin Klein wanted you to be the new face of their underwear campaign, offering you a shit ton of money. It was the biggest opportunity you had ever received but you were a bit nervous when you mentioned it to your husband.

- What do you think ? You asked after you brought it up to him.

- I think we’ve established that you look good in underwear, he grinned.

- Yes but that would be banking on our sextape, our relationship… would it be ok with you ? You asked.

- I’ll cut you a deal : I’m ok with you doing that campaign if you’re ok with me using your moans as ad libs, he said with a smirk.

- You can’t be serious, you giggled as you rolled your eyes.

- What ? He chuckled. We’re partner in life, we might as well be business partners.

[burstinn]

OBSESSIVE

Obsessed! König x Male! Reader

Warnings and notes:

You have been kidnapped

No proofreading again lazy writing

Bad German/ some words are translated

Mentioning that you are just an ordinary guy that works in a cafe. Lee mao

You had a breakdown and are now unresponsive to König. Though the breakdown is not mentioned you are unresponsive now.

"Du bist mein Mann"

König would whisper in your ear, slowly caressing your face lovingly. He didn't care if you cried or screamed, he didn't care if you denied your love for him.

You are his Husband.

And you would learn that soon, you better learn it soon.

He would leave you in his basement for God knows how long. He hid you down here ever since.. He took you..

°°°

You are a normal man really. You work at a small Cafe inthe suburbs as an asisstant manager. You go to the grocers every Friday. You would greet the old lady to help her with her chores everytime you could.

You had a routine, you had a normal life.

Until he came, König he called himself.

"Ahh.. E.. Es Tut.. Mer.. I'm sorry are you closed?"

Though he looked and sounded intimidating, His eyes looked very.. Meek and nervous when you first met him.

König was wearing all dark clothes that day, a hoodie and mask covering his face. His towering figure over the counter almost scared you off into saying 'yes we're closed'. Maybe you should've just said you were closed. So you wouldn't be in this situation. Locked up under this house.

"Oh! No no don't worry! You can order don't worry. You can be my last customer"

You could only see a small shine of happiness and relief in his eyes when you said you were still open. You should've just told him to fuck off..

It was already tiring to clean the equipment and floors and after making his order you had to reclean in again. Past work hours. You should've left hours ago. But you decided to be nice that day... Why.

"I'm sorry.. How much should I pay?"

"It's okay, it's on the house.. You can have your order for free"

You smiled at him.

And that's when he would come over to the cafe.. Every time. He almost became a regular.

But König had strange breaks in between.

It would be 2 weeks, 6 months, 3 months, and 1 year.

He would never explain why, but you shouldn't really ask.. It's none of your business anyway.

You would simply put on a smile at him everytime, cheerily greeting him and already asking him if he was gonna have his same order.

Hell, you even just saved a room for him. A corner in the store, it's obvious by his first meeting he was an anxious man. And you felt for him so everytime maybe to ease him a bit.

You would always strike up a conversation. Even if he doesn't answer, you would talk.

And he eventually did start engaging in conversations. Slowly but surely he would become more lively around you.

He would ask you would answer, you would ask he would answer as well. It was good.

You even had a reason why he had strange long breaks in between visits to the cafe. Apparently, he is a Colonel of a military. What an interesting man, knows how to shout orders but can't speak properly when ordering something?

It was good. Life was good.

You had known König for long enough that you have his number, know his address and know everything about his simple interest.

So does he, even something simple you mentioned he would know. Even if you didn't remember you said that. It impressed you.

He would send you gifts even when he was still in his job in the military. One time he walked in wearing his uniform. Imagine your surprise when it was König, all wide eyed and mouth agape.

"Oh.. Hi! Uhm.. What's your order?"

"Hallo! I'll have my usual, bitte"

"... ", " König..?"

"Ja? Ich bin König!"

"OH MY GOD"

It was funny, he would even do it at times.. But it was obvious he would only do it just to tease you or make fun of you or something.

You would visit his house at times, funnily he would still cover his face around you.. Even though you were friends for like 7 or 8 years?

He even taught you some German.

You'd hang out with each other out of work if König or you had matching schedules to even hang out.

So you guys both plan ahead, never missing any hang outs. Lest one of you got an emergency call.

°°°

It was nice.. Simple.

You got a new friend, and you had a routine life.

All of that stopped when you got a text from König that he would be gone to the military for a few months. Of course you were saddened by that of course you sent your sad faces and good lucks.

Making your way to work, getting bombarded with customers. And annoyingly, having to fix a machine by yourself while you tell the rest of the employees to go home for the night. Really it just decided to break when it was way past the time to get home? Having to stay over work time once again really ticks people off. Especially when you don't get paid for your overtime.

Atleast the whole place was clean. You just needed to fix the machine, and it took about... You stayed there for 1.5 hours trying to fix it. Fucking dammit, An angry smashing of the plates and tables was an order but you were to tired to do any of that. Instead you make sure everything is in check before closing the lights, getting your stuff and locking the place up.

Fucking finally. You can go home and rest..

Walking your way back should've been simple, you should've been safe this was a tight knit community. Everyone knew everyone, even new comers. No one would try anything but you had to be the one.

All was well til you felt gloved hands grab you from behind. Shoving you hard against the ground, covering your mouth as they blindfolded you and gagged your mouth

Someone should've heard you, especially when you managed to slip away and ran for a few miles before getting caught again. Being dragged back to the dark..

"Bitte, es tut mer leid.. It's okay"

Imagine the betrayal, you stop struggling looking behind you to see your friend. Dragging you to his car and shoving you inside.. Not before tying you up. All the while apologizing and trying to explain something.

Not like you were listening, all that mattered was the fact you were being kidnapped by your best friend.

°°°

"Leibing, I'm back"

2 clicks then loud thuds coming from the stairs as he makes his way down to the makeshift room König prepared for you. A bed, a small bathroom, a small kitchen with all the supplies you needed. No knives, König was smart enough to think you would try to kill him.. But worse yourself. He can defend himself easily from you.

Especially that one time you managed to break off a piece from the cabinet and trying to stab him.

He made sure to lock you down here longer.

He's not a monster though. He knows you have a system to do things so every twice a week he would bring you outside. Monitored.

If he was out on his job, he would just open a makeshift window for you to bask in the sun while he was away.

He would always stock your food, even giving you snacks.

He gave you a T. V, books, magazines, small toys and games to keep yourself entertained.

He bought you new clothes, he brought you gifts from his travels.

"Liebe? Are you hiding?"

Peek around the corner. There you are. You're curled up in a ball. Tired and emotionless as usual.

"You haven't been sleeping again, have you?"

He walks over to you, wrapping you in his arms

" Ich liebe dich so sehr.. You know that right?"

"It's why I did this.. es ist für dich"

You don't answer

You stopped answering just a few weeks ago

König missed your old personality, where was the cheerful you? The one who would strike up the conversation first.

But König knew why, He knew the consequences way back when he planned on doing this.

He planned this for so long to have you.

He could live with the changes, He could live with the fact that you probably hate him now.

Stockholm Syndrome was his hope of you loving him back, but he knew it would take a while. He can be patient, he waited long enough.

He cupped your face, lifting up his hood slightly to give you a loving kiss.

You stopped fighting back as well.

"Ich kann auf dich warten"

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

au where vaggie has another little secret she didn't even know was a secret still (spoiler it's Mortality) (spoiler charlie Isn't Happy) and when she sits down with charlie for a hotel talk it goees like (TRAUMATIC EMOTIONAL SPEED RUN AAAAHAHAHA)

Vaggie: "Alright sweetie, the hotel's going good so far, one soul redeemed, minimal fire damage this week, so we should probably start planning for the next hundred years of operations."

Charlie: "YAY!!! Planning planning planning~ What's first on the list??"

Vaggie: "Start looking for a replacement manager."

Charlie: "You don't wanna keep being manager? OH- we can be CO-FOUNDERS together! WE COULD HAVE A PARTY FOR IT! And plan for the next one too- Charlie and Vaggie's centennial wow the hotel is still here celebration...!"

Vaggie: "That's sweet, but I'll be dead by then either way, so we still need to deal with the staffing shortage before then."

Charlie: "....dead... tired?"

Vaggie: "Dead as in dead. Doornail style."

Charlie: "What?"

Vaggie: "Expired. Shit, when did we last check the hotel fridge..."

Charlie: "Vaggie wait, I'm, I'm not hearing you right, what are you saying?"

Vaggie: "Heaven born don't live forever? Especially not down in hell, turns out."

Charlie: "I don't understand."

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Sweetie, thanks for ignoring my eyebags and zombie groans while getting out of bed in the morning- but my wings are already GREY, for fuck's sake."

Charlie: "Yes they're, grey. Beautiful and- aren't they supposed to be-?"

Vaggie: "And I'm pretty sure it's not just from the stress of running a business for a few months. Being hotel manager isn't that hard."

Vaggie: "....Mostly. Compared to, some things...." (sigh)

Vaggie: "Think anyone would believe that if we put it in the want ad?"

Charlie: "But-"

Vaggie: "No buts. We really need to get a head start on this."

Charlie: "....but you're a winner."

Vaggie: (SNORTS) "In my dating life, yeah. Anyway-"

Charlie: "But none of the other exorcists' wings are grey! So, so THEY aren't aging- so YOU aren't aging!!"

Vaggie: "They've got halos to protect them from the whole physically getting old thing-"

Charlie: "Halos???"

Vaggie: "-so we- they- can keep fit and ready for fighting our- THEIR whole lives, but duh we don't live forever. Lute and Adam left me here to die, not chill for all eternity."

Charlie: "Wh.. but-"

Vaggie: "Can you imagine how much heaven would've freaked if one of their actually immortal souls had gotten killed down here in hell...? But it was just one of us Adam's girls, and it was up to him to deal with it. With more murder. Bastard."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh.... Charlie?"

Charlie: "....your mortal?"

Vaggie: "I'm, yeah.... wait, Charlie..."

Vaggie: "...people know that about exorcists, right? You didn't... think heaven would risk putting winners in their rank and file army and send them down to hell?"

Charlie: "I thought you were a sinner."

Vaggie: "Hostia- right. I keep forgetting, they don't get old do they?"

Charlie: "Sinners don't. They get killed but they don't just. Die."

Vaggie: "I'm sorry. I thought- I really should've told you-"

Charlie: "Angels aren't supposed to die either."

Vaggie: "We did a good job proving that wrong. Exhibit A, Adam's corpse."

Charlie: "He was KILLED- it's not the same!"

Vaggie: "And angels aren't the same either. There's a lot of different kinds in creation- most of us aren't in the higher orders, there's waaaay more exorcists than seraphim."

Charlie: "But heaven is still supposed to be HEAVEN! People don't DIE in heaven! That wouldn't be Heaven! How could- how could it ever be HAPPY up there if, if- if people still left!?"

Vaggie: "Oh, sweetie... the only people who've earned a heaven like that are the winners. The rest of us are just-"

Charlie: "Just what? JUST, WHAT???"

Vaggie: "We're there to make heaven a good place for them. Keep it running smooth and safe. Mostly it's the higher ups who deal with winners personally, the rest of us stay back and stick to our jobs, try to keep some distance so no one... gets too attached... shit that sounded a lot less fucked up before I said it out loud-"

Vaggie: "Look- it's like that with hellborn too isn't it? The imps and hellhounds and-"

Charlie: "NO! YES? But this is HELL! Of course it hurts and isn't fair! You're not FROM hell it's not supposed to BE like that for you!"

Vaggie: "Or for my girlfriend."

Charlie: "I'm not the one who's dying!"

Vaggie: "You're kinda freaking-"

Charlie: "IM NOT FREAKING OUT!!"

Vaggie: "Right. I meant, you should've had more warning. I'm sorry I didn't say... I wasn't thinking that far ahead."

Charlie: "WELL I WAS! And I'm not- we're not losing that."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "We're getting you your halo back."

Vaggie: "Pretty sure it's already been recycled-"

Charlie: "THEN WE'RE FINDING ONE FROM ONE OF THE DEAD EXORCISTS and you are WEARING IT until we FIX THIS."

Vaggie: "Sweetie- heaven collected all the halos from our battle-"

Charlie: "They didn't pick up all the spears and stuff, maybe they also missed-"

Vaggie: "No they wouldn't have. Halos aren't, they're not like the weapons. Heaven doesn't care if sinners kill each other with some left behind divine steel, but a halo? They store and conduct heavenly power or whatever. No one's gonna leave one of them lying around."

Charlie: "Fine. FINE- let me think-"

Vaggie: "Can we think less and focus more on you not shaking like a damn leaf first? C'mon, sit down-"

Charlie: "-the angel Carmilla killed. We'll use that one."

Vaggie: "We could use a deep breath right now."

Charlie: "It's head was missing when heaven picked up the body."

Vaggie: "Yeah? An Overlord probably has it hanging on their wall, big whoop, Charlie please slow down-"

Charlie: "If it's head was left behind then maybe it's halo was too! If we find the Overlord-"

Vaggie: "No. No more deals with Overlords."

Charlie: "I'll make as many damn deals with them as I want!"

Vaggie: "But not for ME, alright! If it's about me then you don't get to sell your fucking soul! Or bind it or whatever! You can't make me be the reason for that!"

Charlie: "Vaggie- we NEED that halo."

Vaggie: "No we don't. I don't."

Charlie: "You're dying without it!"

Vaggie: "I KNOW I am. But that's just, life!"

Charlie: "LIFE? Dying so soon isn't-!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, you're half seraphim. You mom was the original demon, your view on life expectancies is kinda skewed."

Charlie: "You said the halos let you live longer!"

Vaggie: "I said they keep us young. It's not the same thing."

Charlie: "It's still SOMETHING!"

Vaggie: "We don't even know that would help at this point, I've been in hell for years-"

Charlie: "Oh so we shouldn't even try!? Just, sit back and go 'well we haven't don't anything to stop this but I guess it was just completely unavoidable'-"

Vaggie: "It probably WON'T help. No, listen- It worked up in heaven and for short runs down here- that doesn't mean it'd have any power to draw on in hell. It's probably just a fancy looking hoop down here."

Charlie: "Then we'll get you back to heaven until we can make it work."

Vaggie: "I'm not going back to fucking heaven!"

Charlie: "AND I'M NOT LETTING YOU STAY HERE AND DIE!"

Vaggie: "You can't kick me out- this is OUR hotel, not just yours."

Charlie: "YOU- you-"

Vaggie: "We need. To calm down."

Charlie: "CALM DOWN! Every second you spend down here your body is-"

Vaggie: "Not dying anytime soon, okay? I'm fine. This whole talk has gone way too far way, way to fast. That's my fault for not thinking about all this sooner, but. Just. Take a breath. Let's just take a breath, take a break, and come back to this when we're both had a moment."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "Did you plan all this."

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Owning the hotel together. Making sure you couldn't be forced out of hell."

Vaggie: "That's not why we started the hotel-"

Charlie: "No, that's not what I was thinking when we started it. But were you?"

Vaggie: "Charlie... you're connecting dots that aren't there..."

Charlie: "You're here. You're here and dying and don't want to leave."

Vaggie: "I'd be dying up in heaven too."

Charlie: "But your wings wouldn't already be GREY, would they?"

Vaggie: "They'd still be an exorcist's wings, if I'd never left-"

Charlie: "Well they're not anymore and going back wouldn't change that. All it would do is help you stay alive."

Vaggie: "I don't want that life."

Charlie: "It's that or die."

Vaggie: "You're being dramatic-"

Charlie: "You've always said you liked that about me. Was that a lie too?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "Do you want to die, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Of course I don't- I could've just let Lute-"

Charlie: "Die, not be killed. Does it make you feel better about all the people you've killed? You'll die and join them, sooner rather than later?"

Vaggie: "......."

Vaggie: "... I want. To spend my life. With you."

Charlie: "No you don't." (voice cracking) "You can't do that when you're dead."

Vaggie: "That's not my fault."

Charlie: "Your choice though, right?"

Vaggie: "It’s not same thing-"

Charlie: "Yes it is. You want to be one who leaves."

Vaggie: "....... wouldn't you?"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I don't.... want it to b- be like this."

Vaggie: "I know."

Charlie: "I want US! Not like this."

Vaggie: "I know, sweetie, I know... I'm so sorry-"

Charlie: "Stop it." (muffled in vaggie's hair) "You don't want this either, stop apologizing for it!"

Vaggie: "... I shouldn't have let you think, it could be different."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "It will be."

Vaggie: "Okay. Denial, that's a, normal step in-"

Charlie: "No- It WILL BE. I- We going to- we'll MAKE it different."

Vaggie: "I don't think we can..."

Charlie: "We will."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "Damnit just trust me! If we can save a sinner's soul, then we can f-fucking save you."

Vaggie: "....."

Charlie: "Please, Vaggie. Can we try?"

Vaggie: "...it'll be a waste of time."

Charlie: "No it won't."

Vaggie: "We're already not gonna have forever together, sweetie. Why not just. Enjoy what we do have?"

Charlie: "I will! We will."

Charlie: "But we're going to have longer than one century for it."

Vaggie: "Half that, maybe..."

Charlie: "That's not the sound of trying. Vaggie. Please."

Vaggie: "...well... if you're gonna look at me like that about it..."

Charlie: "Don't joke about this."

Vaggie: "I'm not." (smile) "I just know better than to doubt Charlie Morningstar when she gets an idea into her cute, stubborn head."

Charlie: "All my head needs right now is an answer. One word. Clear. Honest."

Vaggie: "... alright. Yes. We can try."

Charlie: "Thank you." (kiss) "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Vaggie: "But you have to promise me. No deals. No selling souls- not for my sake, not even a little bit. Got it?"

Charlie: "Why are you so strict about this-"

Vaggie: "Because it's your soul."

Charlie: "-people make deals all the time! YOU made one with-"

Vaggie: "And it creeped me out even though it wasn't with my soul. Do you promise?"

Charlie: "This is a heaven thing isn't it?"

Vaggie: "Do you promise."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "I won't make, deals with anyone in hell, to save you."

Vaggie: (breathes out) "Then... we'll start by talking to Carmilla tomorrow."

Charlie: "TOMORROW!? But that-"

Vaggie: "Will give us time to figure out what we actually wanna SAY to Carmilla. She's still an Overlord, Charlie. Any info we give her she'll want to sure to keep her family safe first."

Charlie: "I know the fucking feeling..."

Vaggie: "So we're slowing this down and doing things carefully, so we do them right. Right?"

Charlie: "Right." (grumbling) "Fools rush in- blah blah BLAH."

Vaggie: "That's my girl."

Vaggie: (hesitates) (tentative smooch)

Vaggie: "Feeling better?"

Charlie: "Fine. I wish you'd stop asking ME that."

Vaggie: "Just glad you're not shaking so much anymore. Kinda scared me for a second."

Charlie: "I'm fine." (sighs) (hugs vaggie) "I didn't mean..."

Vaggie: "I didn't mean to scare you, too."

Charlie: "It's fine. You'll be okay."

Vaggie: "Mm. Already am."

Charlie: "And we're NOT looking for a replacement hotel manager."

Vaggie: "We're gonna need-"

Charlie: "NO."

Vaggie: "-okay. We'll hold off on it. We've got time."

Charlie: (holds her closer) (glares at distant light of heaven)

[morningberriesao3]

Dirty Words

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.

Word Count: 10.2K

Chapters: 1 of 1

Content Warning: Explicit m/m sexual content including dirty talk, masturbation, hand jobs, spit and cum as lube, allusions to anal sex, scent kink, spit kink, multiple orgasms, and oral sex. Excessive swearing. Recreational drug use and drinking. This post includes explicit sexual content, foul language, and sensitive themes. It is intended for those 18 and older ONLY. I am not responsible for the media you consume.

Disclaimer: All characters in my fics engaging in sexual acts are—and always will be—18 or older, even if not explicitly stated.

DIRTY WORDS

Eddie is feeling all floaty and shit. The weed Argyle gave him really is better than the skunkweed he’s been peddling in alleyways since he was sixteen years old. Not that he’ll ever admit to it. Definitely a fact he’ll take to his grave.

But for now, Eddie has the weekend off from his new, lousy day job that Steve and (mostly) Robin managed to bag him at Family Video. To be honest, it had been a last resort. But turns out, business is shit after he fucking finally graduated high school. And now—cherry on top!—he’ll have to figure out how to file taxes and shit. Welcome to the corporate world.

With a sigh, Eddie takes another drag from the perfectly rolled joint that he made himself. Argyle can’t top him on that, at least.

Eddie giggles to himself. Top him. Shit, Argyle could top him if he really wanted to, considering how fucking pent up—

The phone rings, making Eddie jump a good six inches from the sunken couch cushion he’s lounging on. He scrambles to a sitting position, and then lifts himself onto his legs that only slightly wobble like a newborn giraffe underneath him. He runs to the yellowing, plastic phone that’s hung up on his uncle’s trailer’s wall, hoping that maybe it’s the guy Eddie’s been fooling around with on the other end of the line. Maybe he could try the whole phone sex thing. Again. And not fuck it up this time.

“Hello?”

“Eddie?” Steve asks, voice all staticky through the speakers. “Why does it sound like you just ran a marathon, dude?”

Eddie realises he’s panting. He’s not sure if it’s from the short dash to the telephone, or if it’s because his blood was rushing to his cock for a minute there instead of his lungs.

Either way, he should probably consider going for a jog once in a while or something. It’s kind of sad that he’s winded.

“Shut up, man,” he says. “Maybe I was running a marathon. You’d never know.”

“I do know. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you decide to exercise willingly. The sun will be rising in the West. The sky will be green and the grass will be blue when Eddie Munson runs a marathon.”

“You forgot when pigs fly.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He nearly drops the phone that’s wedged between his ear and his shoulder. “Did you call to talk about my general lack of fitness, or is there another reason you called, Harrington?”

“I’m bored,” Steve whines. The phone line crackles. Eddie can only assume Steve is, like, laying in bed or something.

Laying in bed, in those navy blue sheets. Shirtless. Maybe fresh out of the shower. A little wet still, his hair sticking up around his head—

No. Nope.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away the next image (a towel slipping away from Steve’s hips), because three months ago he made a rule for himself. No more fantasising about Steve goddamn Harrington.

It had been becoming nearly impossible to look the other man in the eye after some of the things Eddie imagined doing with him.

Steve continues on, completely unaware of Eddie’s wandering mind. “Robin is working tonight and tomorrow so she can’t hang.”

“Glad to know I’m your second choice,” Eddie teases.

“No! No, I would have called you either way.”

“Sure you would have.”

Eddie smiles to himself. He’s not actually miffed. He and Steve have become way closer than he would have ever imagined possible. It started when Robin would ask him to hang out, and then she’d invite him along with her and Steve, and then somehow he and Steve just started hanging out alone. And it wasn’t even all that awkward.

Turns out Eddie is cooler than Steve thought, and Steve is more of a loser than Eddie thought.

“Eddie,” Steve groans. And Eddie tries not to be perverted about how good it sounds. “Come on, dude. Let’s hang out.”

“Can’t, man,” Eddie says. “I’m busy.”

“What? No you’re not. It’s nine at night and you’re at home. I also know Wayne works a double, so he won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“It’s weird that you know my uncle’s schedule.”

“No it’s not; he works the same shifts every week. Point is, I know you’re alone. Unless you have other friends that I don’t know about?”

“I do have other friends!” (Not really. Just a guy Eddie’s made out with a couple times in the city, and the members of Corroded Coffin who’re away for the summer.)

“Oh.” Steve goes quiet for a moment, and Eddie feels like he won. But then, “Well, are they over right now?”

“No, but—”

“Then you’re not busy! I can bring movies. I have Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Wildcats—”

“What makes you think I want to watch a sports movie?”

“And Labyrinth.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. Shit, he loves David Bowie, and he hasn’t been able to get his hands on a copy yet. But he also knows Steve won’t just return the movie before Eddie has the chance to see it, because Steve isn’t mean like that. Not like Eddie is.

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting high and being alone!” And jerking off for the next hour and a half to see how many times he can make himself come before it becomes unbearable.

Eddie doesn’t add that last point, for obvious reasons.

“I like getting high. Please, Eddie? I’m so bored. And my house is empty and quiet, and you know how I get nightmares when—”

“Okay! Okay, oh my god, fine. You’re so whiny.” Eddie had no idea Steve was such a beggar. He kind of likes it. “But you have to bring beer as payment. Afterhours fee.”

“Yes,” Steve says, sounding like he’s doing something dorky like punching the air. “Beer it is. See you soon.”

“Hey, Harrington, can you give me, like—” half an hour, Eddie wants to say. But the line goes dead.

He wonders if he can manage to pump one out before Steve gets to the trailer. And the thing is, his dick is harder than he’d like to admit after hearing Steve’s voice. So he’s going to try.

Eddie runs to his room, pulls down his flannel pants so the elastic sits taut under his balls. He doesn’t bother laying in his bed; he just sits on the edge of it, facing his mirror, watching as he fists his own cock and gives it a few tugs. It’s not a narcissism thing, Eddie just likes the visual. Likes to imagine it’s someone else’s hand, or someone else’s cock. Likes to see the tip of it, shiny and red, as his foreskin pulls down his shaft to expose it.

He wonders if Steve is cut or not.

Fuck—no. No, no, no.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking about Steve, he should be thinking about the guy from the bar. About how hard his dick had been, pressing into Eddie’s hip as they made out against the wall in the alleyway.

Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s doing something…

Eddie watches as his hand pumps over his cock, watches as it starts to strain, the veins popping from the skin as he builds himself up. He squeezes hard around the crown. It only gives a little under the pressure, considering how hard he is, but it makes his dick offer up a pearl of precum that he gathers and spreads around the slit. When he lifts his thumb away, a sticky string connects his hand between his legs.

He likes the way that looks. He likes when things start to get messy. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see the guy from the bar’s cock like this, if he also likes to play with cum and spit.

If Steve ever plays with cum and spit when he’s on his own, like Eddie does. He wonders how Steve touches himself, what he likes, what he doesn’t like, what sounds he makes, what face he makes…

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Yeah, that’s fucking good.

Okay. Okay it’s fine, Eddie will just think about Steve one more time, and then he’ll for sure stop doing it. Just this one more time…

A jolt travels from Eddie’s cock into the tight muscles of his stomach as he imagines Steve’s face all twisted up in pleasure. Those strong thighs bracketing Eddie’s head as he sucks back little dribbles of salty white that leak out of Steve. His nose brushing against a mound of dark hair that Eddie just knows would grow thick around the base of Steve’s cock; little curls that smell like honey and almond soap, because Steve uses the expensive shit.

Jesus Christ. What he wouldn’t give to go down on Steve, just once. Just one time.

Eddie’s mouth waters as his hand flies harder, faster. He’s so fucking close. Just a quick, dirty orgasm before Steve comes over. Steve. Fuck, yes, Steve—

There’s a loud knock on Eddie’s front door.

No! Shitshitshit. He just needs two more minutes. Maybe not even that, just one—

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is muffled beyond the walls of the trailer. Eddie almost considers letting him wait outside while he finishes up, but he can hear Steve’s footsteps getting closer to his bedroom window.

A rock hits the glass and shocks Eddie enough that it sets him back. Now it would definitely take the full two minutes.

“Shit! Goddamn fucking Harrington—” Eddie stands from the mattress and releases his cock from the death grip he had on it. It bobs between his legs, so fucking stiff that there’s no way it’s going away on its own anytime soon. “One sec!”

Eddie has no choice but to tuck his cock into the waistband of his pants. The tip pokes up under his navel, like it’s staring angrily at him for not finishing the job he started. It’s throbbing, and leaking, and getting the fabric it’s tucked into all damp.

“Same,” he mumbles to his dick as he grabs a longer t-shirt and pulls it over his head.

Another rock smacks against his window.

“Coming!” Well, he was about to anyway.

He doesn’t jog to greet Steve, because he doesn’t want to risk his dick slipping from its hiding spot. That is a conversation Eddie wants to avoid.

When he opens the front door, Steve has another rock in his hand, aimed towards Eddie’s window.

“You better not throw that, Harrington.”

Steve’s head whips around. His eyes are full of mischief, a small smile on his lips. His hair is freshly washed and styled, just like Eddie suspected. And his outfit is positively sinful (if you’re horny like Eddie is). Grey sweatpants and a plain white tee, which Eddie thinks is the guy version of lingerie.

Totally unfair, especially when Eddie would just like if his dick would go soft again.

“Why did you take so long, dude? Your trailer park is scary in the dark.”

Eddie gawks at Steve. “You’ve literally fought monsters and a dark wizard in an alternate dimension, and you think my trailer park is scary?”

“Yeah.” Steve points over his shoulder to a mobile home down the lane. “There was an old dude watching me from his window.”

“Mr. Jackson?” Eddie tilts his head, sees the curtains ruffling as his neighbour draws them back. “He’s… mostly harmless. I think.”

“You think?” Steve flings up Eddie’s steps and quickly locks the door behind him.

“Totally. I mean, besides the shotgun he keeps next to his couch. But that’s reserved exclusively for handsome young men that come around the trailer park after nine PM.” Eddie checks his watch, gasps in mock fear, widens his eyes, and peers out of the window behind Steve’s head.  “That means you’re not safe! I think—I think I hear him loading the gun!”

Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, just for a second, as he cranes his head to look out the window. When Eddie’s sarcasm finally sinks in, he lets go and punches him (a little too hard) where his hand had been. “You’re such a dick.”

“I think that was kind of a compliment,” Eddie says, rubbing at the place where he would surely bruise. “I did say you were handsome.”

Steve flops down on Eddie’s couch and tosses a bag full of VHS tapes and a six pack onto the ground by his feet. He leans back, like he’s making a point, flourishing his hand over the length of his body with the most disgustingly sexy lazy smile on his face. “Yeah, well, that’s common knowledge.”

Jesus.

Eddie looks down to make sure his cock is still out of sight. He can feel it pulse between his legs as he hears Steve’s voice, sees how he stretches on the sofa. But thank God, he’s still tucked away and Steve should be none the wiser.

He takes his place next to Steve—makes sure his shirt drapes loose enough around him that it hides how hard he is.

He wonders if blue balls are a real thing. Will Eddie have severe health defects if he doesn’t come? Will his boner go away on its own?

Questions that he’ll find out sooner or later, he supposes.

“Little full of yourself, are you, Harrington?”

Steve sighs. “Not at all. It’s actually hard work being this gorgeous. You would know.”

Eddie feels his cocky expression fall from his face.

Did Steve just call him gorgeous? Or did Eddie totally misinterpret his words? He blushes and figures it’s better to be safe than be sorry. “Sure,” is all he replies with.

“So,” Steve says casually, “where’s this weed I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Eddie smiles, big and sweet, and points towards his bedroom where he left the joint to fizzle out in an ashtray before he molested himself. “Be a dear and go grab it from my nightstand?”

The truth is, Eddie’s pretty sure the tip of his dick slipped from under the elastic of his pants when he sat down. Miraculously, he thinks it’s starting to deflate by the teensiest fraction, but it would still basically slap Harrington in the face if he tried to stand.

Which—good thing or bad thing? Eddie isn’t sure. That would all have to do with Steve’s reaction. But he’s not willing to find out.

Steve rolls his eyes but gets up like a good little boy to fetch the ashtray. He brings it and the lighter to the coffee table where Eddie had been smoking before.

Fifteen minutes later, Eddie is back in his floaty state with a beer between his legs instead of a hard on. Turns out, stiffies don’t actually last forever if you don’t let yourself come. It’s just very, very frustrating.

“You up for another beer?” Steve asks slowly, reaching into the bag to grab two bottles. His eyes are glazed and blown, and Eddie thinks he looks totally fucked up already. It’s hilarious.

“Yeah, I’m down.”

Steve hands Eddie a new PBR, and his eyes do this little flare thing that makes him look adorable. “Woah.”

“Woah what?” Eddie asks, popping the cap and replacing his empty bottle with the new one.

“Being up for something and being down for something mean the same thing, even though they’re the opposites. I just realised that.”

Eddie smiles against the lip of the bottle, feeling the glass clink against his teeth. “Shit, man, you’re so high.”

“Am not.” Steve honest to God giggles as he makes eye contact with Eddie. “Okay. Maybe a little.”              

“I’m glad you came over, Harrington,” says Eddie after a beat. “Better than another night alone.”

Steve opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of the telephone ringing.

Both men turn their heads to stare at the wall phone, but Eddie doesn’t make a move to stand up to actually answer.

Because, for some reason, his mind is suddenly going a million miles a minute.

He knows it’s not his uncle calling in the middle of work, and he knows it’s obviously not Steve. The chances that it’s Robin are slim to none because her shift doesn’t end for another half hour. Gareth and Jeff are away with their respective families.

So the most logical answer to who’s calling after dark, would be the guy from the bar.

And the thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to raise questions. Isn’t sure if he’s capable of thinking of a good enough excuse as to who it was or why he’s calling. Yeah, he could probably have at least answered and told Bar-Guy to call back tomorrow, that he has company, but his brain isn’t thinking fast enough. So he just kind of… stares at the phone as it rings.

“I’ll get it,” Steve says after a few seconds, and suddenly he’s standing from the couch and reaching for the telephone—

“No!” Eddie pounces, because that’s even worse than if Eddie just answers the damn phone himself. He flounders towards Steve, grabbing the outstretched hand, stopping it from curling around the phone. “Stop! Stop—just let it ring!”

Steve gawks at him, but holds his hands in surrender in front of his chest.

The phone rings one more time, and then the kitchenette goes quiet.

Eddie heaves a sigh of relief, even though he probably just made more questions arise than he avoided by not picking up.

“What—what was that about?”

“Nothing,” Eddie huffs, dragging his feet back to the couch.

Steve follows closely behind. Just as Eddie flops onto the cushions, Steve is on top of him, tickling the shit out of Eddie’s arms, his sides, his stomach.

Eddie was not expecting anything like this—Steve’s hands all over him, his leg slung over Eddie’s to hold him down, the smell of Steve’s breath hitting his face. It’s not a bad smell, like freshly brushed teeth and beer and weed, and it’s warm, because their faces are so close together.

All Eddie can to is half-shriek-half-laugh, even as his mind muddles with confusion (and lust. Obviously).

“Tell me!” Steve commands, digging his fingers into Eddie’s neck, down his back, dangerously close to his thighs…

The boner that he just got rid of starts to fill out once more.

“Stop, dude!” Any sense of authority is lost under Eddie’s laughter that he can’t control. “No! Stop!”

“Come on, Munson. Spill the beans.”

Eddie tries flipping onto his stomach, but Steve follows him, blanketing over his back. The panes of his chest press behind Eddie, hard and warm, crowding him against the pillows. And there’s also friction.

Friction that could easily become a problem if Steve keeps goddamn moving against Eddie, making his hips rub against the couch—

“Okay! Uncle. Uncle!”

Eddie keeps panting face-down as Steve lifts himself away from his back.

“So?” Steve asks with a smile in his voice, triumphant from his win. An unhonourable win, as far as Eddie is concerned. Tickle torture is a serious offense. “What’s up your ass?”

Eddie snorts as he sits up, casually grabbing one of the throw cushions to hold against his lap.

Nothing, he wants to say. That’s the problem.

Instead, he just kind of adverts his gaze and goes for the truth.

“I’ve—kind of—been talking to…” this guy.

It’s not like Eddie has been hiding his sexuality from Steve, per se, but other dudes are way less accepting than girls about it. His first official ‘coming out’ had been to Robin (an obvious choice after she told him she’s a lesbian), and then to Nancy.

Apparently, Steve had been really cool when Robin told him she likes girls. But this is a different situation. Steve might be afraid that Eddie will, like, come on to him or something. Which… fair enough. Eddie probably would.

So, instead of finishing with the whole truth, he dampens it down a bit, and says, “Someone.”

“Oh. Shit.” Steve’s eyes do this thing where they drop to the floor, and then shoot sideways to Eddie, his eyebrows crumpled like a cartoon above his nose. He grabs the blunt, takes a deep drag. “That’s good though, right?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure.”

“Sweet. So what’s the issue?”

All of it. Everything.

Because said guy lives all the way in Indianapolis—two hours away—and the only chance they have to communicate is through phone. Which, by proxy, means that the only times they can actually meet up is after a phone conversation.

Not to mention the fact that they aren’t, like, official—that they just made out a few times. Once outside of the bar, and a couple times in the back of Eddie’s van, which left him achingly hard when they parted ways.

This circles back to point number one about the phone conversations. They’re awkward. They don’t know each other well, don’t know what to talk about. Things don’t just flow naturally. Not like they do with—oh, say—Steve.

Maybe the worst part is that Eddie is a twenty-one-year-old man with raging hormones that—as much as he wishes otherwise—he cannot control. His self-discipline is basically nil. Nada. Zero. He’s fucking horny all the time.

So how is he supposed to deal with long-distance plus rare phone calls?!

Bingo. Yep. Phone sex. It’s the obvious answer, is it not?

So Eddie, like, tried.

And he thought it started well!

What are you wearing? Is that not fucking obvious where Eddie was headed? Is that not the exact line that they use in movies and shit? That’s what he said—What are you wearing?—and then he shoved his hand down his pants and waited for Bar-Guy to get into it, start saying something filthy into the speaker that would get Eddie going.

Maybe like… ‘Nothing at all,’ or, ‘tight boxers that show off my cock,’ or—fuck—'a towel slung low on my hips’. Something like that!

But all Eddie got was, “Uh—sweatshirt. Jeans. Why are you breathing hard?”

And then Eddie had said, “Just thinking about you,” with his low and gravelly voice, to help keep the conversation moving (again, he thinks this is pretty obvious and, like, at least a bit sexy).

Here’s the real kicker. The dude then said, “Are you… touching yourself?”

And it was not a sexy question. He sounded completely weirded out! Horrified! Disgusted!

So Eddie pulled his hand out of his pants and basically yelled, “No!”

Deny deny deny. Eddie is good at that shit.

The conversation had gone on to other things. Dinner plans, or something. Eddie didn’t really care. All he could think about was that this guy probably didn’t want to fuck him. They’d had the opportunity before, and it never progressed. And the thought of Eddie even fisting his own cock all but repulsed him.

Such a damn shame. Because Eddie is so desperate, so pent up, so sick of fucking his own hand, that he’s literally about to drill a hole in one of Uncle Wayne’s oranges and go to town until there’s nothing left but pulp.

Eddie doesn’t tell Steve any of this. He just groans really loud and buries his face in his hands, and says, “I don’t know!”

“C’mon, man. Something’s up. Out with it.” Steve waves his hand in encouragement, vaguely gesturing to the empty trailer and himself. “Safe space.”

Eddie peeks through his fingers at Steve, and he just looks so… genuinely curious. Like he actually wants to help, or at least hear, Eddie’s problems.

“Okay, fine.” Eddie snatches the joint from between Steve’s fingers and sucks it back like it’s water, keeping his gaze from Steve’s (beautiful) hazel eyes. “It’s just that I… I kind of made it awkward. Last time we talked on the phone. I tried to initiate… uh”—he clears his throat—“phone sex.”

Steve’s eyes go wide, his forehead crinkling with surprise. His lips are shiny and pink. But that second part doesn’t have anything to do with Steve’s expression—Eddie just happened to notice them.

“Fuck,” Steve says, leaning forward to set his bottle on the table in front of them. “Yeah. I’ve been there before, man. What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“I don’t know. What did you say? I assume it didn’t go well considering how you’re all… tense and shit.”

“Tense and shit.” Eddie laughs once, then mumbles, “You have no idea.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Steve encourages.

“It’s not! I started with the classic, what are you wearing?” Eddie drops an octave, making fun of his attempt to sound hot. “And then I got an actual play by play of what they were wearing.”

Steve sits back and thinks about it for a minute—his legs splayed, and his arms crossed over his chest. “I think the issue with that is… it’s obvious, but it’s not sexy.”

“How is it not sexy, dude?” Eddie asks, exasperated. “It’s literally a steppingstone into, like, a form of sex!”

“Yeah, sure, but it doesn’t get you hot. You know?”

“No, Steve, I don’t know. Because I’m always hot. Someone could bend to tie their shoes and I’d fucking cream my pants.”

Steve hiccups a startled laugh. “Fuck. Me too. It’s been forever.”

“I don’t think it’s natural for a guy to go this long, man.” Eddie swigs back the rest of his beer and cracks a third. Lights up a new joint, too. And honestly, regardless of his tolerance, he’s pretty fucked up.

“Do you know how many chicks I’ve gone out with? None of my dates have even led to hands stuff. It at least sounds like you’re close to sealing he deal.” Steve lolls his head towards Eddie with a cheeky little smile on his lips. “I mean, if you didn’t suck at talking dirty.”

“I do not suck!” Eddie cries, grabbing the throw cushion from his lap to smack it against Steve’s smug face.

Steve catches the pillow and rips it playfully away from Eddie’s grip. “Then show me.”

Eddie stares at Steve for way too long. He narrows his eyes after a few seconds. “You’re kidding me.”

“Not kidding. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re doing wrong.” Steve leans forward, plucks the joint right out of Eddie’s slack lips. “Just pretend I’m on the other end of the line.”

“No way, dude.”

Steve curls his hand up to look like a telephone, pretends to dial in a number. Brings it up to his ear. “Riiiinngg. Riiiinngg. C’mon, Eds, you’re getting a sexy phone call. Pick up. Riiinngg.”

Eddie feels his face flush red. He’s not sure if it’s from where this conversation is headed, or out of sheer embarrassment for Steve’s sake. “Holy fuck. You’re such a loser, Harrington.”

“I’ll just pretend you already answered and said hello. Hey, Eds. It’s… wait, what’s this guy’s name?”

Eddie opens his mouth. Then closes it again, because Steve just said guy. Not girl. Guy. Is this a slip of the tongue? Or did Buckley out Eddie to Steve? Or Nancy?

No, neither of them would do that. Maybe Steve just figured it out from context clues.

But still, to be sure, Eddie just says, “What?”

“What’s his name?” Steve askes again.

So—shit—it definitely wasn’t a slip of the tongue. But Steve isn’t freaking out. Hasn’t freaked out in the past. And he’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but not judgy or anything.

Eddie clears his throat. “Nick.”

“Nick! Strong name. Not as strong as Steve, but not everyone can be a Steve—”

“Come on, man!” Eddie groans. Again. Hides his face. Again.

“Okay, Okay!” Steve clears his throat. “Hey, Eds, it’s Nick. What’re you up to?”

Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it forcefully out of pursed lips. “Uhh—hey, Nick… I’m…”—his eyes flick sideways to catch Steve staring at him with a half-smile on his face—“no. Nope! I can’t do this.”

Eddie goes to stand from his perch on the couch, but Steve’s arm shoots out to grab him. “Alright. Let’s just do it, you and me. No phone roleplaying required. Just start with saying a compliment you’d tell Nick or something.”

“Alright… Okay… Uh, you’re—I mean Nick—is really funny?” Eddie says. Nick isn’t all that funny but, fuck, it’s all Eddie can think of. Steve is funny, though, so it’s easy enough to say.

“Yeah, good. That’s good. What else?”

“And you’re really hot. Really fucking hot.”

“Good.” Steve shifts around on the couch, maybe trying to get more comfortable. “And then Nick would say something like, You’re really hot, too.”

Eddie stifles a giggle. “I really don’t think he would.”

“Well, just pretend he does. And then it’s your turn to keep the conversation heading in the direction you want it to.”

“By saying what, Harrington?”

“Try saying how I—Nick—makes you feel.”

“Okay. You make me feel… like I’m vibrating. Like I’m pressurized, or something.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes, his voice dropping an octave. Probably just getting more into character. “What does that make you do, when you feel like that?”

“It makes me… makes me hard.” Eddie feels his hips pitching forward. His cock twitches under his flannel pants.

A dangerous game they’re playing. Maybe Steve doesn’t know just how serious Eddie was when he said he’s pent up.

“Fuck,” Steve says lowly.

“Too much?”

“No! Nah, it’s good. It’s hot. I mean, sometimes it’ll take longer to build into that kind of stuff, but keep going.”

Eddie nods nervously. “Okay. Uh, what do I say now?”

Steve sits up a bit to adjust the band of his sweats. “Sorry. So, you said it makes you hard. And then I’d say… me too. That it makes me hard just talking about it. Just thinking about it.”

Eddie’s dick is starting to properly fill out again. It makes sense since he never got to come after taking himself right to the edge before Steve came over.

He takes a steadying breath to try to will it away. “Shit. Okay.”

“Do you like that?” Steve asks. “Do you like thinking about how hard my cock gets when I think about you?”

“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.

Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.

He can’t help but blurt out, “I want to suck your cock.”

Because it’s true. Eddie’s mouth is watering just from the thought of it. But as soon as the words push past his lips, he realises that it’s not exactly fitting in the theme of phone sex. So he quickly adds, “If we were together right now. Instead of—uh—just on the phone.”

“Fuck, yeah. You’d suck my cock so good.” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie swears his eyes trail over his body, landing between his legs and then back up to his mouth. “I’d fuck your throat so deeply you’d gag and drool all over yourself.”

Eddie can’t help himself from groaning at that image. And as if his body is proving to Steve just how right he is, a trickle of saliva escapes the corner of his lips before he’s able to swallow it back.

He lifts his hand to wipe the back of it against his mouth. “Jesus, Steve.”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie. His voice is low and soft and seductive, and Eddie is having a very hard time remembering that this is a game as he says, “And then I’d ask if you’re touching yourself.”

The words echo those of Nick’s. But when Steve says them, he doesn’t sound horrified at the thought. He sounds like he wants Eddie to be fucking his hand while they talk. Like the thought turns him on almost as much as it does Eddie.

“I would be, by now,” Eddie confesses, wiping his sweaty palms against his knees. He desperately wants to trail them higher, wants to rub between his legs where he’s throbbing and hot. His pants feel like a sauna. They’re humid and sticky, and he knows it’s partly because he’s radiating heat, but also because his cock is already starting to dribble.

“I would be, too,” Steve says. “I mean, Nick would be, too. If I was Nick. And I’d—I’d ask how you were touching yourself. What it felt like.”

Eddie glances between Steve’s legs again. And—holy shit—Steve is hard. As hard as Eddie.

His cock is fucking massive, as far as Eddie can tell. Thick, and long, sitting sideways inside his pants against his hip. Eddie knows it would stand proud by Steve’s belly button if it wasn’t trapped.

And he’s also pretty sure Steve is circumcised by the obvious ridge he can see under the fabric.

Maybe it’s dumb, or false hope, or just how ridiculously horny he is (again), but Eddie is feeling encouraged. Because he’s not the only one who’s getting hot. He’s not the only one who’s participating, or the only one who’s bricked up.

So… why not get into it a bit more?

“I’d say that I have my hand wrapped around my cock. That it feels heavy in my hand. And wet. That I’m leaking all over myself.” Eddie’s hips pitch forward on their own accord, the sensitive tip of his dick deliciously grazing against the flannel of his pants. “And I’d tell you that it feels good. Really fucking good. But it would feel better if it was your hand instead.”

Steve is the first one to break.

Eddie can tell it’s an automatic reaction when he reaches for his cock and squeezes where it’s straining under his sweats. Awareness shimmers in Steve’s eyes, and he quickly pulls his hand away again. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s all good,” Eddie says fast as a whip, repeating Steve’s words from earlier. “Just means we’re doing good, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s laugh is small and breathy. “Really good.”

Eddie swallows his nerves, decides to see if he can keep whatever this is going. “What would you say after that?”

It seems it’s Steve’s turn to be flustered. Eddie can see red creeping up his neck, like his chest is flushed. It reaches his cheeks and makes him look all bright and pink. “I’d tell you what I’d be doing.”

“Which would be?”

“I’d be reaching under my pants, and I’d circle my fingers around my dick. Gently at first, because—because I’m sensitive down there. And I want to make it last.” Eddie watches as Steve’s hands lift back to his lap. And then pinch the hem of his shirt. A strip of his sun-kissed stomach flashes as his fingers tease against the drawstring of his pants. “Like this.”

Steve’s hand disappears as it pushes down into his sweats. It moves along the length of his cock. He adjusts so it’s no longer sitting sideways; it’s now straight up, as big as Eddie assumed, dangerously close from peeking past the waistband.

Eddie would not be upset if it did.

The best part is when Steve’s hand starts moving under the fabric. Long, soft strokes that Eddie can tell are featherlight, mostly just fingertips teasing against his skin. Just enough to make Steve bite down on his lip and his breath hitch in his throat.

“Steve—fuck.” Eddie’s mouth goes dry as he watches Steve touch himself. And he has a few fleeting thoughts.

First is the classic, Am I dreaming? Because surely Steve Harrington is not jerking himself off in Eddie’s living room on a Friday night while they say filthy things to each other under the guise of another dude.

Impossible.

The second comes after Eddie subtly pinches himself and doesn’t wake up. Which is, Is this a joke? Because now that he knows he’s (probably) not asleep, there must be some other horrible explanation for what’s happening. He racks his brain, plays back the events that led him here.

Eddie doesn’t think he could misinterpret everything. But he’s probably done dumber things in his life.

Plausible.

And the third—which is the thought that’s taking up the majority of his consciousness—is, Am I allowed to touch myself, too?

He doesn’t let himself consider this one too long. Because there’s no way in Hell that Eddie would be able to stop himself. Not if a gun was pointed to his head.

So he shoves his hand down the front of his pants and squeezes his cock way more aggressively than Steve.

It’s both not enough and instant satisfaction. Like when you start scratching an itch and it seems to get itchier as your nails dig into your skin, but at the same time it’s doing exactly what you need to soothe the discomfort.

Eddie’s lips part as he grabs his balls and gives them a taut squeeze. His dick basically weeps against his skin. So much precum is pushing from his slit that it’ll be a miracle if there’s any left when he actually comes. Fuck, he hopes this time he can actually come.

His heart is beating so goddamn fast in his chest that there’s a good chance if he stops for a second time this evening, it will give out. He really, really will die.

“Does it feel good?” Steve practically purrs the question.

Eddie nods fervently, but he’s not able to form words. He doesn’t know where to look; Steve’s blown eyes that seem more black than hazel, his hand that’s speeding up under his sweats, the damp patch that’s forming where his cock must be leaking nearly as much as Eddie’s if it has already soaked through the fabric, or the growing expanse of abs on show—flexing in tandem with Steve’s strokes—as his free hand continues to lift the hem of his shirt.

Fuck, Eddie wants to come. Right now. He wants to come right fucking now.

He squeezes the base of his cock, bordering on the verge of pain, to stop his orgasm in its tracks. “So good, Stevie.”

Steve’s head falls back against the couch cushion, his eyes flicking between Eddie’s legs, his mouth, back down again… back up. He’s pumping himself with more intent now, his wrist twisting with each upwards stroke. “I wish it was your lips on me. I just know how good they’d feel. You have perfect dick-sucking lips.”

Eddie attempts stroking his cock again. It zaps into the coil in the pit of his stomach, but if he goes slow he’s sure he can go at least thirty second before he’s on the edge again.

“You have no idea, Steve,” he says, his tongue wetting his lips like he just might fall to his knees and start sucking Steve off for real. “I’d keep them nice and soft like you said you like. The inside of my mouth would be so wet—fuck, I’m salivating just thinking about it. And then I’d seal them around your big cock and hallow my cheeks when you least expect it, and you’d fucking thrust into my throat in surprise—”

Eddie moans, dropping his grip on himself yet again. That time it was really close; he can feel his dick pulsing under his pants. If he were alone, he’d push them down and watch as his cock twitched against his abdomen, angry at the loss of his fingers at the last possible moment.

Across from him, Steve speeds up; his hand moving in quick, short bursts against his tip. He makes his own noise, his eyes rolling back into his skull and then closing altogether.

It takes everything inside Eddie not to grab himself and come inside his pants right then and there. Shit, Steve looks so fucking good. Eddie desperately wants to see more. The colour of Steve’s dick, the way it strains, if it’s curved or straight, if it’s shiny. He wants to see it leak, wants to see Steve’s fingers catch the pearls of precum that are soaking through his pants and rub them into his skin. Wants to see it web between his fingertips—sticky and white. Wants to suck it off of them.

Shit. Fuck. It’s a miracle Eddie isn’t coming untouched. He’s still right there, on the verge of his orgasm. One single, insignificant, breath of a touch would one hundred percent set him off.

Steve’s eyes open. He drops his own dick, wipes his palm against his t-shirt. And he scootches closer to Eddie.

Just the brush of Steve’s thigh against Eddie’s makes him tremble, makes Eddie feel like he’s going to lose any semblance of control that remains.

They’re pressed right against each other. The length of Steve’s leg is warm and strong against Eddie’s, bigger than his. Thicker. Just like the rest of him.

Steve spits in his hand. Eddie watches as it pools in his cupped palm, watches as Steve brings that hand back down to the front of his pants. He stretches the waistband away from his body, and for a split second, Eddie catches a glimpse of his cock. Just the crown, broad and pink like Steve’s lips, right before the elastic snaps back and covers him again.

Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t you dare fucking come, Eddie Munson.

“And then,” Steve says, adding fuel to the fire, “I’m gonna bend you over the arm of this couch. You’ll look so hot, with your back arched and your ass on full display.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Fuck it. Eddie sticks his hand back down his pants, but barely touches himself. Just draws a line up the fat vein on the underside of his cock. He can feel his heartbeat under the pad of his finger.

“I’ll push into you so slowly. You’ll feel so full with my dick in your tight little asshole. And you’ll make those sexy little noises the whole time.”

Eddie makes one of them right as Steve says that—a low, quiet rumble from the back of his throat.

“Yeah, just like that. And then… then I’ll start fucking you. It’ll feel so good, Eddie.” Steve fucks his fist harder, his hips lifting from the couch like he’s chasing his own touch. His hand sounds wet on his cock, slapping and squelching each time it smacks against the base. “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you start crying. That you start screaming. Your scary neighbours will know how good I’m fucking you from the noises they hear coming out of your trailer.”

Eddie wonders if he lets himself come if it’ll be the end of whatever is happening. He knows for a stone-cold fact that he’ll be able to stay hard after the first time. But Steve doesn’t know that. Not yet. Maybe he should tell him.

But for now, Eddie tries to regain some control, some semblance of his quippy, cocky personality, just so he doesn’t come off entirely as a whimpering fool (if it’s not already too late). He tries to smirk. “Bold of you to assume I’m a bottom, Harrington.”

“A bottom?” Steve asks, and Eddie realises that maybe it’s a term that he’s never heard before. Because he’s straight… (question mark?). Again, Steve uses context clues. Smart guy. He presses impossibly closer into Eddie’s side, and asks, “Are you telling me you don’t want to feel my cock inside of you? Don’t want my cum dripping from your asshole for hours after we fuck?”

Eddie’s whole body vibrates. That’s it. The end. He fists his cock and pumps it hard, pulling his foreskin forward enough to cover the head, back to expose it, all underneath the checkered fabric of his pants. “I’m gonna come, Steve. I’m coming.”

His teeth bite painfully into his lower lip as he lets himself tumble from the ledge. Cum surges from his cock hard enough that he knows it would have painted his entire chest if it wasn’t contained inside of his pants. Each wave of his climax makes him whine aloud. It sounds crude, mixed with the slick slap of his hand against his skin.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles, staring as Eddie’s working fist, eyes blown wide like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

And maybe it shouldn’t, but Eddie’s left hand reaches out with a mind of its own, gripping high on Steve’s thigh. Squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise, while his right is covered with hot, slick cum.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie babbles, riding out his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Keep going. Keep talking. Don’t stop. I’m not finished yet, I wanna come again. Please. Please.”

“Oh, fuck, Eddie.” Steve brings his own hand down atop where Eddie’s is still sunk into the flesh of his upper leg. For a moment, he thinks Steve is going to pry his fingers away, but instead he laces them with his own.

It’s such a simple thing, holding hands, but it feels intimate. Intentional. Like this isn’t just some game.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking that. But he is. He is. And it’s the moment he consciously knows he’ll be ruined for anyone else. End game for Eddie Munson. Steve held his hand while they jerked off. He’s in love.

Steve yanks him from his internal monologue. “You can come twice in a row?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his hand still squeezing between his legs. Each stroke sends a bolt of lightening through his entire body, but his dick barely softens in his hand before it stiffens back up to steel once more. “Usually more than that. Four times if I want, but—but not as much cum comes out as the first.”

“Oh my God,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I… Can I see?”

His eyes flicker down to Eddie’s crotch.

“Sure.” Eddie pretends he’s confident as he tugs down his pants, lifting his hips enough to push the fabric under them.

His cock springs free from where it was trapped.

He doesn’t want to be self-conscious of his body, but he can’t help but wonder what Steve sees. If he’s at all disappointed that Eddie’s dick isn’t as big as his. It he thinks it’s weird that he’s uncut or that his dick curves upwards. If he let his pubes grow too long.

But Steve’s eyes go heavy with desire, taking in every inch of Eddie. The way his entire dick is shiny and sticky with his own cum, how it gets stuck in the hair that grows below it. His fingers squeeze around Eddie’s, involuntarily or in encouragement, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel better.

Eddie is about to ask if Steve would show him more, too.

Steve beats him to it. “Do you want me to—?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”

Steve brings the hem of his shirt to his chin, catching it between his teeth. His whole chest is on display, his olive abs flexing as he pulls down the front of his sweats, tucking the elastic waist under his balls. His hand circles his cock, so thick his fingers barely meet.

And now they’re both just… bare. Basically naked as they jerk off next to each other, hands still intertwined like they’re some sort of couple. Things go quiet for a few moments as they just watch each other. How their hands work against themselves, speeding up, slowing, twitching.

Eddie’s cum gets sticky on his hand, against his cock. When he pulls his fingers away from his body it feels a bit like glue, tacking his hand up so much that it’s hard to slide it over his length.

“Spit on it,” Steve whispers, like he knows exactly what Eddie is thinking.

Eddie nods, bringing his hand up to his mouth—

“Wait.” Steve unlaces his fingers from Eddie’s, grabs his wrist. “Can I?”

“Shit.” Eddie huffs a breath through his nose. “Sure, Harrington.”

Steve lets a long string of saliva fall from his pretty, pink lips. It wets Eddie’s palm, mixing with the cum that covers it, making it slippery instead of sticky. Instead of letting go, though, Steve brings Eddie’s hand down to his own lap.

“Wanna switch?”

And—holy fucking fuck. Eddie trembles with ill-contained delight. He doesn’t even reply, just wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock before he can even think about what’s happening. What it means. That it’s changing the dynamic—they’re getting involved with each other instead of just themselves.

It doesn’t even matter. Not right now.

Steve’s head falls back against the cushions. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”

Eddie slides his fingers up Steve’s shaft—so heavy and hot in his hand—just as Steve described he liked. Soft and gentle. He twists his wrist in the same way Steve touched himself, watches as his lips part and his brows crinkle together, marvels at the vision of Steve’s cockhead surging from his grip, so flushed against the paleness of his hand and the silver of his rings.

He squeezes a bit harder and watches Steve’s hips rut towards him.

“You look so good,” he tells Steve, voice getting lost behind the moans that Steve keeps loosing from his lungs.

“Eddie?” Steve pants, thighs twitching as Eddie dares to circle his thumb around Steve’s slit, gathering more wetness to join the rest.

“Hmm?”

“Were you serious earlier?” Steve asks, barely a whisper. “About wanting to suck me off?”

Eddie’s hand stills on Steve, his eyes shining wide with shock and want. “Yeah? I mean—yeah. Very serious.”

“…Would you?”

Steve doesn’t have to say anything else. Eddie is already sliding onto the floor, already grabbing Steve’s knees and spreading them apart so he can slot himself between them. As soon as he’s bracketed by those strong thighs, they clamp down against his waist. A powerhouse of muscle, locking him to where he kneels.

Eddie is slightly intimidated by Steve’s cock. Will he have to unhinge his jaw like some sort of python to fit it in his mouth?

He leans down and kitten licks the tip, testing how it might feel on his tongue. Steve’s body jolts from that alone, makes a little whimpering noise that makes Eddie’s dick dribble onto the carpet.

“That’s it,” Steve encourages as Eddie’s lips close around the crown of his cock. “That’s perfect. Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. It’s all I think about.”

Eddie moans, opens his jaw wider, and then sinks forward. Steve’s cock glides against Eddie’s tongue. It tastes like hot, sweaty skin. And cum—whether it’s Eddie’s from his hand, or Steve’s pre, it’s salty and heady and makes Eddie’s mouth even more wet as he salivates.

“Fuuuuck.” Steve’s fingers bury themselves in Eddie’s curls, tugging him closer.

It’s different than his fantasies. Steve doesn’t smell like honey and almond soap, and Eddie’s nose most definitely cannot reach Steve’s pubes, even as the tip of his dick brushes against the back of his throat. But the dark curls at the base are exactly as Eddie pictured. Perfectly trimmed and up-kept, as nicely as the hair on Steve’s head.

Eddie can’t help but pull off Steve to trail his tongue all the way down his shaft. He noses along Steve’s inner thigh, shamelessly burying his face in that thick thatch of chestnut hair. And then he deeply inhales the musky scent of Steve.

Steve groans, shallowly thrusting against Eddie’s cheek, the tip of his cock grazing Eddie’s ear, getting lost in his mane of hair.

A rope of drool connects Steve to Eddie, his tongue lolling from his mouth to rub against the side of Steve’s balls as he drinks in his smell. He dips his chin lower, until Steve’s dick is standing straight up, resting against his forehead.

The noise Steve makes is fucking sinful—completely wanton—as Eddie shoves his nose into Steve’s balls and breathes him in, committing everything to memory. His scent, his taste, his sounds, his face—everything.

Eddie isn’t sure if this will happen ever again. Isn’t sure if it’ll even be acknowledged. So he’s going to enjoy every goddamn minute while he’s so up close and personal with Steve’s cock.

“Ah—Jesus Christ. You are a freak, Munson.” Normally, those words might hurt. But Steve says them with such lust that it can’t possible be construed as anything but a compliment. Eddie wraps his hand back around Steve’s cock and starts pumping him with purpose, sucking his balls into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. The wet, slurping sounds are totally lewd in the quiet air of the trailer. “Shit. Ohhh—shit. I’m close. I’m about to come.”

Eddie hums in encouragement, keeps his lips sealed around Steve’s balls. His hand flies above his face until he can feel how tight Steve’s balls get, can feel his cock pulsing in his hand.

He pops off, rests Steve’s cockhead onto his tongue, and jerks him off fast and dirty.

“Eddie—Eddie!” Steve’s thighs tense around Eddie’s middle. Cum surges from his slit into the back of Eddie’s throat in thick rivers, coating his tongue and teeth in sticky white release that he happily swallows down.

Fuck, Steve tastes good. Feels good. Sounds even better as he comes with Eddie’s name falling from his lips. Eddie closes his eyes and revels in the moment, lets himself savour the twitch of Steve’s dick as it empties into his mouth, the intrusion as he thrusts into Eddie’s throat, and the threat of himself gagging against it. He keeps swirling his tongue, even as Steve’s cum stops spurting. Even as his noises become high, and his body starts seizing with each flick against his sensitive tip.

Eddie desperately wants to make the moment last forever, doesn’t want to acknowledge that Steve is basically crying from overstimulation above him.

Finally, the fingers in Eddie’s hair tug him away. He whines at the sudden emptiness, wants to lean back in and feel Steve’s cock soften completely inside of his mouth.

Steve’s eyes are still blown and lustful, and strangely soft, as he says, “That was so fucking good.”

He smiles and gives Steve’s knees a squeeze as he leans back, his own shaking under his weight as he hauls himself back up onto the couch. He feels a little weird now that Steve came, because Eddie is still hard. Still wanting. But he also came once himself. Not from Steve’s hands but from his words, and it was enough. Maybe he should just tuck himself away and let this thing end naturally—

Before he can make a decision, Steve is reaching towards Eddie’s lap. “Is this okay?” he asks as he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock.

Eddie lets his gaze fall between his legs. His dick gets swallowed up by Steve’s big hands. He likes the way it looks so red as it peeks out from his fist.

“Is that a real question?” Eddie’s hands flounder in the air before they land on the couch cushions and bury themselves there, his nails digging into the upholstery as Steve starts fucking him with his hand.

“I knew you’d be good,” Steve says lowly. “Knew your hands and your lips would feel incredible. I can’t believe how hard you made me come. I wanna make you come like that.”

Eddie’s jaw swings open and his eyebrows knit together, and he thinks to himself that it’s not going to take long at all for Steve to get what he wants.

Steve leans forward, and for a second Eddie thinks he’s going to put his mouth on him, but he just lets a string of spit fall onto the tip of Eddie’s cock and gathers it with his hand, spreading it along his skin that moves in tandem with his strokes. It’s almost as good.

“Oh, Jesus—Steve.” Eddie sucks in a breath as Steve’s fingers tighten, forcing a bead of precum from his slit. “I’m gonna come again. Keep doing that. Keep—keep doing that!”

Steve nods, watching as he works Eddie back to the edge. Watching as he expertly rubs his thumb against the spot that makes Eddie see stars.

His second orgasm is stronger than his first. Eddie’s vision blurs out of focus—probably because his eyes are crossing—and the noise he makes sounds like an animal getting fucking murdered. The muscles in his torso tighten and tense and shudder as Steve enthusiastically jerks his dick, cum gathering in his fist, eyes watching with rapt attention.

Eddie’s body goes limp as Steve slowly lets go of him. When he’s able to focus his eyes, he notices that Steve is looking at his hand in fascination, watching Eddie’s cum stretch between his fingers as he scissors them.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever done that,” he says, bringing his wet hand up to his face. Steve smells his fingers, and then decides to bring them to his spit-slicked lips. One of his fingers pop into his mouth, and he hums around it, as if he’s actually enjoying the taste of Eddie’s release.

Yep. Eddie could definitely, without a doubt, go a third round.

But before his dick does something stupid like get stiff again, he tucks himself away. “And? What did you think?”

Steve pulls his finger from his mouth, grabbing an old napkin from the coffee table to wipe the rest of Eddie’s spend from them. “I think I was wrong.”

Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest, waiting for Steve to start berating him or something for making him do something gay. Even though he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the one who initiated it.

But Steve just smiles and cocks his head to one side. “You definitely aren’t bad at dirty talk.”

A sigh of relief heaves from Eddie’s chest. He smacks Steve’s shoulder, but he smiles right along. “You’re a prick.”

As he stands to grab a towel from the bathroom, Steve calls behind him, “You seemed to like my prick.”

Eddie blushes ferociously. He catches his expression in the mirror and tries to wipe it away, but it’s impossible. He’s just bound to look like a totally fucked-out dipshit for the rest of his life, he guesses. As soon as the water runs warm, Eddie washes his hands and wets two towels. He cleans off his dick and his sticky thighs, and brings the second one to the gorgeous man who’s back to lounging on his living room couch.

“Did you?” Steve asks, taking the towel to better clean his fingers. When he shoves it down the front of his pants, Eddie adverts his eyes.

“Did I what?”

“Enjoy it?”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “Yes, Steve, I enjoyed it. Fuck.”

“Good.”

Eddie sits next to Steve and tries not to let himself feel awkward. “Yeah. Good.”

“Want to watch Labyrinth now?” Steve casually digs into the bag he brought, grabs the VHS and wiggles it in front of Eddie’s face.

“Absolutely,” says Eddie.

They pop in the tape, and the TV screen glows blue before it starts playing through the ads. Steve sits next to Eddie, their thighs pressed up against each other, just like they had been before.

Steve reaches over and laces his fingers with Eddie’s. They stay like that for the whole movie.

_____

It’s been three days since Steve left. Since Eddie has even heard from him. Keith makes sure they don’t have many shifts together at Family Video (because they never got any work done), so it’s not uncommon that they go this long. But Eddie’s anxiety makes it feel like it’s the end of the fucking world.

God forbid he reach out to Steve himself.

But by the end of the third night, he gets a phone call.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Hey, man.” Steve is on the other line, sounding chipper and unphased.

Maybe Eddie was overthinking it.

“Oh, hey!” he says, a little bit too enthusiastically. He dials it back a bit, clears his throat. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Just got off work. I have the afternoon off.”

“Sweet.” Eddie nervously twirls the chords between his fingers. Time to be brave. “Do you—maybe—want to hang out then?”

“Yeah. That’s why I called, actually. I stole Psycho III from Family Video. Want me to bring it over?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. Things aren’t changing. Steve won’t estrange himself after what happened, because he’s a good person. Eddie doesn’t even know why he was worried in the first place.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

A few ticks go by, and then Steve quietly asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just wondering…”

Eddie waits, the suspense nearly killing him. “Wondering what, Steve?”

“…What are you wearing?”

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[wardenparker]

CONGRATS on 2.5k!! You deserve every follow! ❤️ For the co-writer (along with @absurdthirst) of the Whiskey fic that made brain go BRRRRR and got me into reading/writing our fave corndog, how about our Agent with the prompts: "Should we make it official?" and/or "Put me down!" Have fun!

Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels. 2,300 words. "Put me down!"/"Should we make it official?" (Sequel to: "Wait! Please don't go!"/"There is no 'us'." ) Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack hits the door, heads turn. The sharp, confident gait of a man on a mission who will not be stopped just shimmers in the air around him. Eyes sharp and narrowed, they scan the floor, looking for someone. For you.

“Can I help you, sir?” It’s the weekend, so a greeter is stationed at the door of the upscale retail store, to help direct customers through the maze of shelves and displays. It is the middle of the city so there are plenty of different kinds who come in every day, but this is definitely the first cowboy that’s ever set foot inside the Lexington Avenue Sephora.

Jack says your name and throws the woman a charming grin. “She’s helped me before so I’m hoping to see her again.” He lies, knowing that you won’t talk to him otherwise.

"Sure! Of course." The new girl smiles warmly, blushing a little as she's easily taken in by the charm that drips off of Jack like dew drops. "She's in fragrances today. All the way at the back of the store."

“Thank you kindly.” He tips his hat like a gentleman and starts for the back of the store. The past two weeks have been miserable. He’s drank, he’s raged, he’s blamed you for expecting too much. Then, when you rejected the bouquet of flowers he had sent to your parent’s house after misusing Statesman resources to find where you were, he had come to a hard truth. He had done you wrong. He hadn’t spoken from heart, not made himself uncomfortable for the sake of growth. Holding onto the fear of losing you if he loved you had caused him to lose you. And no surprise, he had loved you, because he is miserable without your voice in his ear, your fragrance on his sheets and your love in his heart. Now, he’s here to get you back.

You're there in the last aisle, helping a young lady find a specific gift she came looking for, in the uniform dress that you hate but tolerate for the sake of your new job. It doesn't pay well enough and it doesn't distract you enough to dull the constant aching hurt inside you after having walked out of Jack's place, but that's why you had started it the second after arriving back at your parents' place. To try to forget him. It isn't working. Not at all.

"I'll be right wit—" The figure looming a few feet away was only a shadow. It's the second you look up that your mouth runs dry and you feel sick to your stomach all over again. "I'm not sure I can help you, sir," you manage, hating the way your heart wings with so much hope. Hope that he wouldn't be here unless he had come for a good goddamn reason. But you have to stay strong. "You might want to try elsewhere."

“But sugar—” Jack drawls, grinning in pure relief at seeing your pretty face again somewhere else than in his dreams or the photos that haunt his walls. “You’re the only one who can help me.”

“Then you’ll have to wait.” Jack’s appearance has thrown you off completely, but you manage to finish up with your customer and take a deep breath — even hide your shaking hands behind your back — before you look at him again. “You came to my work?” Your voice is incredulous. Quiet. “It had better because you’re out of cologne.”

“You blocked my number and your daddy— well, I didn’t think you’d want there to be a brawl on your parent’s front lawn.” He huffs, annoyed that the old man had waved a hammer at him. He knows he could disarm him, but that would make you even madder at him.

“Ginger helped you find me?” You guess with disappointment. But Ginger is his friend. You can’t blame her for being on his side. “I left Jack. And I did it on purpose. Hell, we didn’t even have enough of a relationship to call it a breakup.”

“We had a relationship.” Jack snorts. “We have one still, this ain’t over, sugar.” He promises, “Not by a long shot.”

"We can't do this here." If he wants to have it out all over again, the least he can do is pay you the courtesy of not getting you in trouble at work. This is definitely going to get you in trouble. "I'm not going to lose my job because you can't take no for an answer."

“I love you, sugar.” Jack breaths out, finally saying the words he’s needed to for a long time. The words you deserve.

If there had been anything in your hands, you would have dropped it immediately. As it is, you feel like crumbling – falling down on the spot or running to him – something utterly undignified that would definitely get you written up at minimum. Your eyes mist and your shaking hands tangle around each other, but you can't break down on the sales floor. And beyond that? As much as you want to believe him, to let the anger and the heartache drip away so you can just go home to him where you want to be? It seems completely unbelievable to you that you walking out his door was somehow the magic tonic he needed to learn those damn words.

"My manager is watching," you murmur to him, glancing past him to the petite ice queen several yard away who has zeroed in on an employee not forcing product on every single person in the store. "We can't—it's not—you have to go, Jack."

“I’m not leaving.” He frowns, tossing the overly made-up manager a single look before focusing on you. “Did you not hear what I said?” He asks. “I love you, sugar. I need you.”

"I heard you." The water pressing at the back of your eyes is proof of that, and the way your voice cracks, but you can feel your manager's eyes drilling into your face and that gaze is angry. "I heard you. And we will talk about this, but I can't afford to lose this job and that might happen if you don't go."

“You don’t need this job.” Jack reminds you. You hadn’t had it when you left, so it’s not like you’ve been here for years.

"I have bills to pay," you remind him, rolling that tick in your jaw backward a little and swallowing the bitter pill that you decided to take all on your own. The undefined thing you had going with Jack had come with a big allowance, but it wasn't a sugar situation. That would have at least been a title. "Therefore, I need to keep my job. And the girl who just got hired can get sent out the door just as easily."

“You don’t need to worry about that.” He shakes his head and reaches for your hand. “Come on, sugar.”

“Why, Jack?” You have to keep your voice down as you snatch your hand back, but it’s still a hiss. “So I can be your stay-at-home friend-with-benefits again?”

Jack has many, many faults and one of them is impatience. His jaw clenches and he knows that he needs to get you alone to talk to you, others starting to warily gaze your way. Instead of answering you, Jack drops his shoulder and scoops you up like it’s nothing.

“Oh my fucking god, Jack!” The screech it earns from you is nearly instant, knowing that you have absolutely just lost your job over his stunt and not really knowing what in the hell he plans to do now. “Put me down! Right now!” He’s stronger than you and you don’t stand a chance of wriggling free in the dress you’re wearing. It will be up over your head if you even try.

“Nope.” His gait is just as determined as he passes by your manager, her jaw on the floor. “She quits.” He tells her and continues on to the door and outside.

“JACK!” Your shit is still in your locker and that’s going to be a black mark on your resume, but right now all you can do is beat your fists on his back and shoulder in protest. “What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

By his Bronco, Jack finally relents, bending down and setting you on your feet. “Now, we can talk.”

Huffing and puffing like you’re about to summon a personal tornado, you don’t even hear him for all the blood pounding in your ears. “What the fuck was that?! Do you know how embarrassed I’m going to be when I have to go back in there and get my purse?”

“It’ll be the last time you go in there.” He predicts and he smirks at you. “And you’ll be flustered too badly to even think about what those crusted old biddies think.”

It’s a reasonable threat, considering how good he is at flustering you. The whole reason you’ve been so upset is because you do love Jack and you wanted this to work out. But standing out there on the street pressed between him and his Bronco? You feel like you’re about to be sold a familiar looking head of cattle after your own just happened to go missing.

“So what’s the play here?” You work very hard to keep your tone skeptical. “You tell me how much you need me so that I’ll come back to you and then nothing really changes? As usual?” He did say the words, but you’re so scared to believe them. To believe him. There’s a chance he doesn’t mean it and that terrifies you.

His eyes narrow, aware that he deserves that little barb but he shakes his head. “No. That’s not what’s going to happen, baby girl.” He huffs. “You are going to go get your purse and then I’m taking you home, where you belong. And I’m going to make you scream my name before you fall asleep on my chest as we plan.”

That all sounds…ridiculously good, actually. It would be a relief to go back to him. To not have to miss him anymore and feel like your heart has been split in two. But all you do is raise one eyebrow in a show of disbelief. “Plan what, exactly?”

“You’re marrying me sugar, today, tomorrow, or the next day.” He growls, smashing his lips against yours and moaning in relief when you melt against him. Pulling away to caress your cheek. “What do you say, baby girl? Should we make it official?”

“Do you…really mean it?” Months of telling him that you wanted to know where you stood with him — wanted commitment from him — only to be sidelined or waylaid or otherwise put off for just a little while longer, they all melt away in the face of the biggest offer of commitment he could possibly make.

“Gotta ring in my pocket.” He confesses, leaning in and brushing your nose with his. “Sugar, I’ve been such a damn fool.” He murmurs. “I thought I could avoid losing you if I didn’t admit I love you. And I just hurt you, something I never wanted to do.”

“That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense cowboy.” It makes Jack Sense, which is not much at all, but still your arms twine around his waist right there on the sidewalk. “But I’m just gonna brush past how long it took you to show up at the party and embrace the fact you’re here at all. Because I didn’t want to leave. I miss the hell out of you.”

“I’m a damaged soul, sugar.” He admits softly. “But I want to be better, I want to give you everything.” He sighs and leans in to kiss you again. “Come home?”

“Everyone is damaged somehow, cowboy.” Melting measurably more with another press of his lips to yours, you lean into the solid wall of Jack’s body completely. “We just have to talk about things from now on, so we don’t get more damage along the way. Okay?”

“Whatever it takes, baby girl.” Jack promises, wrapping his arms around you and holding tight. “I’m never letting you go.”

You’ve cried so much these last few weeks, it’s almost startling to realize that the tears in your eyes now are happy ones. Ecstatic. Overjoyed at having your Jack back in your life, and for the right reasons. If you were separated by more than a few inches it would have been a lunge to kiss him again, but as it is you wrap up in him and hold on tight. “You really have that ring? Because I’m gonna flash it everywhere when I go back into that damn place to get my purse, and then you’re gonna take me home. Our home.”

“I sure do, baby girl.” He has to take one hand out from around you and it almost kills him, but he wants to prove how serious he is. Pulling a small black velvet box from his sports coat. “Tell me what you think. If you don’t like it, we can go pick out any ring you want.”

"How could I not like it?" It's from him and that's all that matters. But the second he pops the little velvet box open, the tears in your eyes spill over and your heart is in your throat. "Baby...it's...it's...I love it. I love you." It's beautiful, and it's real, and he means it.

Leaving was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but if it was the kick in the pants that you both needed to know that the love you have is real? Then it was worth a little ache.

______

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[antebunny]

Babysitter from Hell

Jason changes his mind on never associating with any of the Bats ever again because of one Stephanie Brown. She had absolutely no intention of changing his mind about anything, she just showed up and started talking until Jason begrudgingly accepted his fate as the “I’ll kill for you” member of a “live for me” family. 

(That’s a lie. He’s gotten over 10% of anything that’s ever happened to him in his eventful albeit painfully short life. But he’s working on it, okay?)  

Before Jason knew any better, Steph reminded him of Dick. A cheerful, upbeat personality, a flagrant and equally cheerful disregard for Batman’s orders, an overconsumption of sugary breakfast items, a love for bright colors, and an annoying distaste for brutality, considering both are (technically) violent criminals. 

Really, the main difference he saw was that Steph fucking hates his guts. 

Jason is still sure that Dick will, eventually, after Titan’s Tower. He put his plan to give his Replacement a beat-down on hold after the Bats discovered his identity. It’s hard to maintain his level of hatred for the Bats when they keep soft-speaking at him like he’s some sort of victim they’re rescuing. That’s also why he keeps avoiding Dick. The guy treats all of Jason’s threats against the Replacement like one big joke. Who would’ve thought that the “getting pissed on the Replacement’s behalf” job would fall to his ex-girlfriend?

In summary, Jason thought Steph was a purple-clad, blond-haired female version of Dick with no emotional attachment to the second Robin, and a personal relationship with the third Robin. An enemy, in other words. Someone with every reason to be ideologically opposed to Jason for the rest of time. 

Still, she’s a kid. Jason has promised himself to be nice to all vigilantes, no matter how sanctimonious or annoying, so long as they’re only fifteen years old. So when he finds her perched on a rooftop corner, doing recon on a case that he is working on, he mutters a curse to himself and doubles back to find a good spot to grapple to her rooftop without anyone noticing. He doesn’t want to get in a fight with a kid, but he doesn’t want anyone to think they’re on friendly terms, either. Better that no one knows.

Spoiler notices him coming at the last second and rolls to her feet. Too late if he was actually trying to kill her, and she’s also giving up her position. How sloppy. Jason can’t believe Batman’s letting her out like this. 

“Go run home to daddy,” he growls. “Before I make you.”

That should be enough. Jason has a gun. (A lot of them). She can’t have more than two years of training. She clearly has been instructed not to engage with him, if the way she quietly mutters O, it’s Hood, yes I’m leaving immediately pinky promise means anything. Which is why Jason is utterly floored when she snaps back at him.

“My dad’s in jail, where he belongs,” Spoiler retorts.

“What.”

That’s all Jason can manage when Jason_Todd.exe stops functioning. Several rebooting attempts fail as they run into Bruce is in jail??? then no, obviously not Bruce then I don’t even care if Bruce is in jail then who is Spoiler, anyway? If Jason casts his mind back to who he thought Spoiler was before all this happened, he would’ve said roughly middle class, most likely orphaned, and probably had a parent that was the head of Gotham’s social services before being brutally murdered by some Rogue who hated anyone being nice to orphans. It would’ve been on par for the course, at least. Bruce’s parents were good up until they were good and dead. Same with Dick. Barbara’s dad, despite being the chief of police, was somehow the one non-corrupt cop in all of Gotham. Jason was the only unlucky one.

Or so he thought.

“So unless you’re gonna put me in jail,” Spoiler prompts. “Which would be pretty hypocritical of you, considering–”

“What the fuck is he locked up for?”

Okay, he could’ve said that nicer. And he said he would be nice to kids. But consider: Jason is just not very good at keeping his promises.

Spoiler stares at him blankly in a way only someone wearing white-out lenses and a lower face mask can. “For…being a knockoff Riddler? Ever heard of Cluemaster? I guess it’s understandable for your average citizen to not but like, this is your job, dude. How can you not–”

“Cluemaster?” Jason interrupts again, even harsher than before. He vaguely recognizes the name from the long list of minor villains that came and went while Jason was away. “Arthur Brown?”

“Yep!” Spoiler springs forward and extends a hand. Belatedly he realizes that he hasn’t lowered his gun. “Stephanie Brown, nice ta meet ‘cha!”

And that’s how Jason learns Steph’s name. 

Jason finally does lower the gun, only so that he can bat her hand away and look frantically around the rooftop for anyone who might’ve overheard. “You can’t just tell me your secret identity!” He shouts, careful to not repeat her name even when he’s losing control over his volume. “That–what the fuck! That’s Vigilantism 101!” 

Spoiler–Stephanie–picks up his hand and shakes it vigorously.

“What the fuck,” Jason repeats blankly while his hand–or more accurately, blood-stained glove–is shaken by an overeager fifteen-year-old idiot. “What the fuck. I’m a–a Rogue. I’m your enemy. How the fuck did B let you out in a mask.”

“Okay, first of all, B didn’t let me do anything,” Stephanie corrects, affronted about all the wrong things. “I was the one running around trying to stop my dad’s–Cluemaster, in case you already forgot–plans. Second of all, I know who you are, I’m not an idiot. B got a hell of a lecture on how it’s very not pogchamp to keep important secrets from us. I wouldn’t just tell anyone. Third, I thought you already knew? Aren’t you obsessed with Robin? How come you didn’t already know?”

Jason steps away from her, mind reeling with memories of two-bit criminal Willis Todd and his reign of terror in that shitty, one-bedroom apartment deep in Park Row. He would bet his (second) life that long before Arthur Brown took to the streets, he took whatever it is that’s so fucked up inside him out on those closest to him. His family, the people that needed and trusted him the most, the people that could not just walk away. 

How many times has Jason thought of Willis Todd and burned with resentment whenever the Bats preached about all criminals getting second chances? They wouldn’t get it, he’d told himself; a hollow comfort, clearly, when Stephanie is standing right in front of him, as bright and cheerful as ever, happy to be working with the Bats even while she spits on her father’s memory. 

(Not memory. His name. He’s alive, albeit rotting in prison. Just one more abuser that Batman refused to kill for someone he l–someone under his protection). 

“I know now,” Jason drawls. “Should’ve listened to their lectures on secret identities. Now leave, little girl.”

And maybe it’s the insult, or O (whoever that is, because Jason does not, in fact, know) telling her to go, but Spoiler gives him one more affronted look and leaves.

It’s not the last he hears of Spoiler, of course. Though someone clearly gives her the mother of all lectures afterwards, because she avoids him for a couple weeks. That gives him the time to do his own research. 

Stephanie Brown lives in the Narrows with her mother, a mere hop and skip from where Jason grew up. She went to public school up until last academic year, whereupon she got a scholarship from Wayne Foundation. She attends Gotham Academy, like the Replacement, like Barbara, like Dick (like Jason before that too was stolen from him).

She’s surprisingly similar to Jason. (He swears he’s not just drawing comparison for his own ego). Her mother is still alive, so she received a scholarship instead of being adopted by Bruce. But both fathers were a joke to the very idea of fatherhood. (Both mothers failed to protect them from the father). Both grew up in poor, dangerous neighborhoods with violent, criminal fathers. 

The thing is–and Jason surprises himself with the revelation–he wants to mentor her. Jason is very sure that he understands, better than any of the Bats, what she has gone through. The same soft streak which hates to see kids on the streets wants to take her under his wing.

I don’t understand, Little Wing. What did he do to you?

It’s impossible for so many reasons that it doesn’t bother stating. Jason isn’t a Bat (anymore), and the lack of trust is mutual even if the hate is not. Really, the most important reason should be the fact that Steph hates his guts, except–

“And I know he means well, but he’s just so…overbearing sometimes, y’know?”

Jason slaps another pancake down on her plate. “Tell me ‘bout it.”

They’re a farce, the two of them. Eating pancakes at midnight on the only clean kitchen counter (the other is littered with disassembled guns) while Jason is half-dressed in military-grade gear. Steph, meanwhile, speaks with her mouth stuffed full. Maple syrup drips onto her fluffy white crop top (Jason didn’t know they made fluffy crop tops), and she brushes crumbs off her purple sweatpants. 

It feels like a joke. The remorseless murderer, glowering at his mixing bowl and the teenage vigilante, resembling nothing so much as a chipmunk. (It feels a bit like having a family again).

“Like, it’s like he’s showing off how many friends he has,” Steph continues, oblivious to Jason’s inner monologue. “Which I know he’s not, but seriously. He’s been doing this so much longer than any of us, and then he gets so excited by someone new and tries to introduce them to everyone and it’s like–he’s friends with Starfire, and all the original Titans, and half the Justice League and half of Gotham’s Rogue gallery, and goddamn Superman. And he has B wrapped around his little finger and doesn’t even know it!”

Jason’s pancake suddenly tastes bland and weirdly mushy. “Yeah. Sucks ass but kinda funny.”

Somehow Jason’s attempts to look after Steph on patrol, to make sure she isn’t too injured, turned into this. Steph bursts into one of his apartments of safehouses at random hours of the day, raids his pantry, and complains a mile a minutes about anyone and everything.

“You gonna answers his calls?” Steph side-eyes him. “I know he keeps getting your number somehow and you know he really misses you.”

Which is not to say that all Steph does is complain and talk about herself. She’s all too happy to prod Jason about his (nonexistent) personal life.

“No,” Jason answers shortly, and throws another pancake on her plate. “Eat or get out.”

Steph shrugs and attacks her new pancake with gusto. She doesn’t push or pry, unlike some people Jason could mention, though she always asks. A Bat who is capable of just letting it go. Jason thought he’d never see the day.

If Jason were an “asks question” type of person instead of a “bottle everything up until you choke on it” kind of person, maybe he’d ask about her father. About what really happened with Black Mask, not just what news reports speculate. (Ask how she can stand to love the Bats when they’ve failed her so terribly, when her abuser draws breath, when her murderer walks free, when the Bats sleep easily knowing both of those facts and have no intention of changing either fact even though they claim to l–)

Jason isn’t an “asks question” type of person.

“Hey, can I bring Tim next time?” Steph asks, just shy of casual. “He’d–”

The wooden mixing spoon cracks in Jason’s hand. “Unless you wanna get him a couple’a broken bones,” he says evenly, “I’d suggest keepin’ that little parasite far away from me.”

Steph scowls, suddenly remembering that she doesn’t like Jason. “I don’t get why you hate him.”

Why wouldn’t he. The Replacement represents everything Jason loathes. It’s almost too perfect, how hateable he is.

“I don’t get how you dated him,” Jason retorts, which is maybe a little beneath him. Whatever. 

“Oh, we are not talking about my dating history,” Steph hisses. She shoves her stool back as she stands, fork clattering to the counter. “Bros before hoes. You’re the hoe. Tim’s my bro.” 

Jason is trying to decide whether or not to take offense while she produces a takeout box out of nowhere. For her next trick, she disappears all the remaining pancakes on her plate into the box, seals it smartly, and disappears the box. 

“Thanks for the food. Asshole.” Steph scowls, upset at her own manners and upset at Jason for not simpering for the little leech who wormed himself into Jason’s f–the group of people Jason would’ve once called family. 

Jason is no expert, but when someone makes pancakes for you at midnight, it’s an act of love. Or something. He could never say it out loud, but Steph gets it. She knows what going on here, beneath Jason’s harsh words (and threats, and firearms, and–you get the point). 

It almost feels like having a little sister, or a weird little cousin. Steph isn’t remotely scared of him. She inexplicably wants to spend time with Jason, as rough and unpleasant as he is. Jason doesn’t believe for one second that the other Bats don’t know about her visits, so somehow, they’re fine with it too. The only thing chasing Steph away and flaring Jason’s temper, is, once again, the fucking Replacement.

The next Bat to successfully land a standing invitation to Jason’s (nonexistent) dinner table is also one of the first. Barbara Gordon rolls up to his doorstep one night, armed only with whatever rocket launchers she has installed in her wheelchair (which probably doesn’t sound like “only” to anyone but Jason). The arched frown she levels at him from over her glasses is so familiar, so lovingly judgemental, that Jason tears up a little.

He slams his front door closed and starts dumping his gear, back to Barbara, so he can hide his face until the wetness around his eyes goes away. When he turns around, Barbara is a little closer and a little further to his left, by the kitchen counter stools.

“Hey Babs,” says Jason, at a loss for what else to do. “What the fuck happen’a you?”

“Nice to see you too, Jason,” Barbara replies dryly. “Or should I say long time no see. Since it’s been years.”

Jason meanders toward the kitchen counter, noting a few new visible scars on Barbara’s face and arms. When she leverages herself out of her wheelchair and into one of the kitchen chairs, he realizes just how much taller than her he is now. In his last vivid memory of her, he looks up to her free-flowing red hair, her smirk. Now he cants his chin, staring her down as she laces her fingers together and raises an extremely judgemental eyebrow.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were alive,” Barbara demands. 

Jason shrugs. “Well, I wasn’t. ‘N’ then I was and you didn’t care, so.”

Barbara scowls, an action so perfectly familiar that Jason tears up again. What is up with him tonight? Just seeing someone that he knew years ago is enough to make him lose it. Jason busies himself with the cupboards, once again hiding his face from her.

“That’s not even remotely funny, Jason.” 

Somewhere underneath the lecturing is genuine hurt. Shame she can’t admit to it, maybe then their conversation would be easier to swallow. (Shame Jason can’t, either).

“How would you feel if you grieved someone you cared about only to find out years later that they were alive and never bothered to tell you? I don’t think I’ve seen Dick smile once since w–”

Jason slams a half-drunk can of soda down on the counter. He’d meant to find something better in the fridge, but right now he can’t even remember taking anything from it. 

“‘Course this is about fucking Dick.” Jason loses sight of Barbara’s scowl as his vision swims in radioactive green. “You never gave a damn ab–”

“Just because I love him doesn’t mean I don’t care about you!” 

Barbara’s interruption is the sort of truth that couldn’t be tortured out of Jason. Despite everything, he smiles. Just a quick tug at the right corner of his mouth, but a smile nonetheless.

“You tell him that?”

“Shut up.” At least Barbara sounds exasperated, not mad. “His ego’s big enough as it is. Don’t try and change the subject. I don’t get what sort of game you’re playing, letting Steph stay over while running Dick and Bruce and ragged, and avoiding me and Alfred, and threatening Ti–”

Just half-mentioning the Replacement’s name floods Jason’s head with violent green rage. The can of soda crumples in his hands. Whatever soda was left spurts onto the marble countertop, fizzing sadly. 

“How can you even pretend to care,” Jason challenges, “when the Joker is still alive?”

When Jason’s vision clears fully, Barbara is watching him knowingly from across the counter, over the plastic frame of her glasses. It’s almost pitying, but Jason knows her just a little too well to believe that. 

“Why do you think,” Barbara asks, “I haven’t killed the Joker? For what he did to me. It wasn’t even about me. It was all about getting to Bruce.”

For the first time since Jason came back to Gotham, he falters. There’s so many right answers to that question, but none of them feel like Barbara’s answer. Life-changing injuries, for vigilantes, strip away their identity, their sense of worth. How do you remake yourself in the aftermath? How did Barbara do it without ever seeking revenge? Jason genuinely has no idea.

“You didn’t die,” Jason answers gruffly, feeling every ounce of asshole he is.

“There were times I wish he’d killed me,” Barbara counters calmly. 

Biting, helpless fear that Jason has not known since he saw his mom’s last needle billows in his lungs. Not Barbara Gordon. Never. She means too much to too many people. She’s survived too much to just give up.

“Fuck that.” Jason grabs two cans of soda from the fridge and slides one over the counter to her. “Don’t let that sack of shit win.”

Barbara cracks open her can, then lifts it to hide a tired smile. “You know that’d be what Bruce killing the Joker would do. Letting him win.”

“Fuck that.” Jason places both palms flat on the counter so he won’t spill this soda. He breathes deeply as the green surges. “They’re not fuckin’ comparable. What Joker’s done and just killing the Joker are not the same. That’s not sinkin’ to his level or whatever bullshit, that’s doing this damn city a favor.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Barbara rubs one hand underneath her glasses, scrubbing a loose eyelash off her face. “I’ll probably never fight again. There’ll be experimental technology holding together my spine for the rest of my life. Do you think he should kill the Joker for that?”

“I’d kill him for you,” Jason answers unthinkingly.

(The thought, if Jason had taken the time to think it, is this: Jason can never say I care about you out loud. Todd men love expressing love through acts of violence. Wayne men love unflinching righteousness and devastating justice. Jason is a little too much of both). It’s the truth, though. There aren’t many people he wouldn’t kill if they’d hurt someone he cares about and if said person would appreciate it. He has a short mental list of people to kill for Dick if he ever thinks it would make Dick feel safer and wouldn't make him feel guilty. He’ll kill all of them before returning a single one of Dick’s calls. 

“So. Yes.” Barbara taps a finger against her soda can. “So he should die for causing someone Bruce cares about severe injuries. Then he should kill his old friend Harvey Dent, for what he did to Dick. And Black Mask, for what he did to Steph.” Her gaze drops to the red bat defiantly splayed across Jason’s chest. “The Joker, for you. And then he’d kill you, for what you’re planning to do to Tim. And then himself, for killing you.”

He’d kill you for the Replacement. 

Time stands still in that little apartment. Gunpowder, Febreze and sticky sweetness emanates from the sweat-slick surfaces. Jason struggles to breathe, but for once, he doesn’t see green. For the first time, he regrets telling them his ruined plan to teach the Replacement a lesson. It made them change the security of Titan’s Tower, for starters. And it makes him sound like a monster. 

“It goes nowhere.” Barbara spreads her hands. “It never ends. Please, Jason. Stop hurting yourself. Stop hurting all of us.”

You know he really misses you.

Please, Little Wing. Come home.

Please, Jason. Stop hurting yourself.

Finally, Jason raises his soda can. “To not letting that sack of shit win.”

“To not letting that sack of shit win.” Barbara quirks a crooked smile and raises her own soda in reply.

They throw back their heads and start chugging in unison. Barbara immediately doubles forward, coughing and choking on soda. She slams the can down on the counter and wipes her mouth clean with the back of her free hand.

“Where’d you find this, the League of Assassins? This tastes like ass.”

“Fuck you! It’s a delicacy!”

So maybe Jason can accept his fate as the “I’d kill for you” member of a “live for me” family. It’s more bearable than the alternative: being alone while they worry over him from afar. He’ll even put his plans for the Replacement on indefinite hold.

Steph continues crashing his midnight angst sessions. Barbara adds him to the system she has set up and makes him swear to call for backup if he needs it. (He agrees, but need is a strong word). Jason doesn’t apologize for not telling them he was alive–he doesn’t know how–but he makes up for it by visiting Dick out in Blüdhaven. He even agrees to meet with Alfred in a popular cafe and returns with his head ringing and an armful of teas and snacks.

Best of all is the (unintentional) chokehold he has on Bruce. All he has to do his bat his eyelashes and say something wistful about never graduating high school and Bruce is falling over himself to make him fake identities. The others are all too willing to keep Bruce out of his business. It’s the perfect set up. Jason never would have guessed, when he first came back, that there was family–new family–waiting for him in Gotham. But between the comforting steadiness of Barbara, her willingness to ream him out, his begrudging fondness for his new hellion little sister, and his tumultuous relationship with a brother he loves, Jason thinks he just might stay. 

Sometimes Jason even thinks he might forgive Bruce for not killing the Joker. Maybe not soon, and not for many other flaws that Bruce has yet to sort out, but maybe. All his recent musing on Willis Todd and whether that man ever loved anyone has forced Jason to reconsider his stance on love as violence that he didn’t even know he had. 

Maybe he and this crazy family idea will be alright. Maybe he’ll forgive his dad. Forgiveness or lack thereof aside, they’ll always be some kind of father and son, for better or worse. 

But the one person who Jason will absolutely not forgive is the Replacement. 

Jason still has to deal with the Replacement occasionally. By ‘deal’ he means, of course, that he went to the Replacement’s ugly-ass manor house just to mess with him. Being on good-ish terms with Dick, Steph and Barbara doesn’t mean Jason can’t have some fun. He won’t go through with something like Titans’ Tower, not anymore, but he still can’t stand that arrogant, selfish, entitled little rich brat that wriggled his way into Jason’s family, alright? So he’s going to see for himself just how self-deluded that jumped-up Replacement of his is, sue him. 

No matter how entitled, the Replacement still has school. He goes to Gotham Academy, the school Jason died attending, and he’s in the grade Jason never got to finish. It’s not until about 4 pm that the Replacement actually gets home, so Jason shows up at 6 pm, expecting to find the Drakes having dinner. Instead, the parents are absent, and the Replacement is eating takeout in one of the many living rooms, while in the middle of a game of cards.

“Ooh! Burn a card! Burn a card!” The Replacement taunts his opponent, a girl Jason just barely recognizes as Bruce’s newest adopted kid. 

The girl–Cassandra, Jason thinks, though he hasn’t learned what her traumatic backstory is yet–scowls and slides a card from the bottom of her hand to the bottom of the pile on the rug.

“Your turn,” the Replacement adds.

Cass plays her top card without looking–an eight of spades–and Tim places a ten of diamonds. Then the game accelerates to a pace Jason struggles to understand. There’s a lot of slapping involved. Mostly it looks like they’re just playing cards one after another, until Cass slams her hand down on top of the pile.

“Wait, what?” The Replacement pushes her hand away and checks the top cards. A three of hearts and a three of spades. “Damn, you’re right. Double.”

This time Cass smirks as she scoops up the whole pile. Jason should probably stop spying from the doorway now. He only came to harrass the Replacement a little, not meet Bruce’s new kid. But then she turns her head and stares directly at him, so Jason shrugs mentally and saunters into the living room. He dumps his gun (one of them) on a comfy looking armchair as a sign of peace. 

“So. Bruce’s new kid, huh?”

Cass nods once.

Jason plonks himself down on the coffee table. Legs sprawled, his shoe almost touches their playing cards. He ignores the Replacement staring at him in something akin to awe. It’s in turns enraging, confusing and uncomfortable. 

“Lemme guess. Dad was an ax murderer, Mom died when you were young?” When Cass just stares at Jason blankly, the faintest hint of embarrassment creeps up on him. He tries again. “How’d you end up with this band of lunatics?”

Cass shrugs. She looks at the Replacement.

“Her bio dad is David Cain,” the Replacement explains, having the audacity to look something akin to sternly at Jason. “Her bio mom is Lady Shiva and she gave her away at birth, but after she escaped Cain–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason snaps, through the roaring green the Replacement’s stern look conjures. “What are you, her social worker? She can tell her own story.”

“Right,” says the Replacement, looking satisfyingly ashamed. “Yeah, of course.”

After a beat of silence, with both boys staring at her, Cass raises her hands. It takes Jason a beat too long to realize she’s explaining her story in ASL. Though explaining is a strong word. She makes the sign that Barbara came up with all those years ago, a combination of the sign for bird and the sign for bat, to mean broadly the Gotham vigilantes. Batman, Robin, all the bats and birds who call Gotham home and each other family. Then she makes the sign for good. 

Bats good, Cass says. Then she gives Jason this dead-eyed stare that feels like it’s poking around his soul and seeing all his cringe-fail moments, and asks: Why are you so–? But Jason doesn’t recognize the actual adjective. 

“She’s asking why you’re so angry,” the Replacement supplies, since he apparently knows more ASL than Jason does. A fact that Jason definitely does not care about at all. 

“I’m not angry,” Jason says, you know, like a liar.

[talaok]

Chapter one: The perfect life

Pairing: No-outbreak!Joel x married!reader

Series summary: You moved to Austin Texas with your husband due to his job, but your already troubled marriage is about to get more complicated when the contractor remodeling your home, Joel Miller, will enter both of your lives.

Chapter summary: Moving to Austin was the right decision, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong.

warnings: hints to the reader's unhappy childhood, and a very short smut moment

Next chapter

New city, new home, new life.

You should have been happy, you really should have been, but the weight that had sat on your chest as you got on the plane had lingered.

You wanted this. You had to.

You had the perfect life.

A big house with an even bigger lawn, more money than you ever thought possible, and a loving husband.

A loving husband of two years, a loving husband who had to move to Texas for work, a loving husband who you followed across the country, leaving everything and everyone behind, because it's him, and you love him. 

Yes. You love him, just as he loves you.

You just needed time, time to adjust, and find a way to start new.

And Austin seemed as good a place as any.

It's warm and sunny here, and the city has an aura you had never quite encountered in any other place.

It's different from New York, yes, but different is good, different means change, and you needed a change.

"I smell burnt"

"oh- shit" you hissed, your gaze finally dropping from the window and down towards the pan where bacon was frying.

You turned the stove off and opened the window, trying to get some of the smell out. 

"You ok?" 

You looked at Richard, his deep blue eyes, perfectly slicked-back hair, and the tailored suit hugging his body like a second skin made him look as if he had come straight out of a commercial.

He wasn't watching you anymore, his attention had moved to the coffee maker.

"yeah I'm fine, I'm just a little tired I guess"

"you should rest today," he said, pouring some coffee into a cup

"I will" you nodded, glancing at the pan "I should probably make more bacon"

"don't worry" he stopped you "I'll just eat something on the way"

"you sure?"

"Yeah" He took a sip from his mug and set down on a stool 

"So..." you walked to the opposite side of the kitchen counter to face him "Are you nervous?"

He raised his eyes from his phone to look at you.

"Why would I be? I'm the boss"

"yeah, but it's still your first day"

He shrugged "I just want to get it over with, today's only gonna be meetings and people introducing themselves, tomorrow's gonna be my actual first day"

"right," you offered him a small smile "And have you talked to Francis?"

"Yeah, he said he'll show me around today" 

He stood up to place the cup in the sink.

"and about the remodeling?"

"Right, yeah he gave me a number, I'll text it to you"

"great"

Silence fell, and with it, a spell seemed to turn you both to stone

He broke it first

"Right" he glanced at his watch "I better go"

"Right," you said, taking a step closer to him.

His lips were on and off of yours so quickly you wondered if you had imagined it.

"Have a great day" you managed, as he walked out of the room

"you too"

__ __ __

The shelves had finally started to come to life.

"Why do we have to bring all your books, it's a waste of time" you recalled Richard saying "It's not like you're gonna read all of them again"

It infuriated you how he didn't get it, how completely baffled he was by your decision.

Like hell you were leaving such an important part of you back home.

Some of the volumes filling the living room you've had since you were a child, some of these stories raised you when there was no one else bothering to do the job.

A small, unexpected smile pulled at your lips as your gaze fell to the last remaining book in the box.

'scary stories to tell in the dark'

You were only 12 years old when you read it. You had found it in the school library, and tempted by a bravado that didn't belong to you, you had picked it up and stuffed it in your bag, carrying it all the way home as if it were the most precious treasure ever known to man.

It had helped silence the screams down the hallway, but it also made it impossible for you to sleep for a whole week.

A quiet laugh climbed your throat as you remembered watching every shadow in your room mutate into a horrifying monster.

You had never given it back.

The barely-together copy in your hands was the same one you had held 22 years ago.

For some reason, out of all the books you've read, this one you held closer to your heart.

Perhaps it was the rebellion behind the act, or perhaps, it was the feeling that that book had given you, the courage, the proof that you could do it, that you were gonna come out the other end, the proof, at last, that monsters can be fought, and at times even defeated.

You sighed, as you settled the book onto the now overflowing shelf, taking a step back to admire the living room.

That's it.

Piece by piece, you were gonna make this your home.

The next hours passed in a frenzy and by the time only a box was left on the floor, it was two in the afternoon.

You had been so caught up with your work you had forgotten to eat.

And now that you realized... god if you weren't hungry.

It's just one more box though, you thought as you peeked at it.

Yeah, c'mon I can do this

Only the stuff for the coffee table remained, and as you took the first item-

Fuck.

The shattered lamp rested on the floor like paint on a Pollok.

Fuck me, man, that was expensive.

You cringed as you bent to try and pick up the sharp pieces, but of course, as a ringing sounded across the room, you gasped and lost your focus, cutting your finger on the glass.

A stinging pain shot through you and you winced loudly, stumbling backward while trying hard not to look at the blood.

This really wasn't the time to be fainting.

Your phone was still annoyingly ringing.

"What?" you picked up without bothering to look

"I'm sorry is this a bad time?" what sounded like a confused male's voice spoke through the phone.

"Richard?" you frowned as you realized it was an unknown number "I'm sorry who's this?"

"I'm Joel, Joel Miller, from the contracting company" he paused "Your husband gave me your number"

"oh" you breathed "I-I'm sorry, he didn't tell me"

"Ma'am if this is a bad time I can call you later"

"no, no please don't worry I just- Now it's fine"

"ok good, your husband has told me you want to do some remodeling?"

"Yeah, we have a big room on the second floor that's unutilized and I'd like to build up a wall and make it into two rooms, perhaps a guest bedroom and bathroom"

He hummed, considering your words "That shouldn't be a problem, I'd like to come to your house one of these days so I can see the space firsthand"

"Yeah sure" You nodded, wrapping a paper towel around your finger once you walked to the kitchen "Would tomorrow be alright?"

"Absolutely, how does 10:30 sound?"

"perfect" you smiled 

"Alright then, if you just give me your address we're gonna be all set"

"of course"

__ __ __

he didn't come home for dinner.

"I'll eat out with some of my colleagues"

That's all he said.

And before you knew it you were heating a frozen pizza in the oven, and watching the sun disappear on the horizon through the kitchen window.

It was good that he stayed out, that's what you kept repeating in your head.

It's good that he's already getting to know his colleagues, and it's good that he's already settling in, it's perfect.

It's what you should be doing.

And yes you would have liked to spend more time with him today, but there's still tomorrow, and the day after that... there's still the rest of your life, one day certainly won't make a difference.

And it's not like you didn't enjoy the quiet, it gave you time to think, to look around the bare walls and ponder what you should fill them with.

A painting there, a mirror there, photos there... it was all coming together in your head.

The house had started to look more like a home, your home.

It was 9 pm by the time you decided to go to bed, it was early for your standards, but you'd had a long day.

He wasn't home yet.

You didn't know what time it was when you heard the front door open, but you were still awake, having tossed and turned hoping to tire yourself out for what felt like an eternity.

"hey" you murmured, once he entered the bedroom

"What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep"

He only nodded, as he started undressing

"So how did it go?"

"well," he said "Everyone seems nice enough"

"I'm glad" you smiled, turning on your side to look at him better "I unboxed everything for the living room today"

"cool," he sighed, hanging his suit and walking into the bathroom.

You laid there, listening to the toilet flush and the sink being shut on and off.

He emerged from the door again and made his way into the bed.

"And the contracting guy called" you continued, as he made himself comfortable "He'll come by tomorrow"

"that's good" he breathed, turning the light off 

"I told him what we wanna do and he said it shouldn't be a problem"

"yeah?" he asked, as you felt him shuffle closer to you

"Yup, he said he's done stuff like that before and he just needs to-" Your words got lost in your throat once you felt his hand travel to your chest.

"Richard?" you murmured, while his mouth moved to your shoulder and slowly up your neck.

The smell of his two hundred dollars aftershave hit your nostrils immediately.

"mh?" he hummed, letting his hand sneak down to find your ass through your shorts.

"Richard... I'm tired" you whimpered

"C'mon baby, you don't have to do anything I'll do all the work"

His hands on you felt inexplicably wrong right at that moment.

"I just-" you tried to slowly shift away from his grip "I've unpacked all day, I don't feel like it"

He emitted an audible groan "Y/n it's been like a month since you've last felt like it"

Your mouth closed as quickly as it had opened.

It was the truth, you hadn't been in the mood for a while now. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know- maybe tomorrow..."

He sighed, pushing himself off of you

"Whatever"

A small gust of air sent a shiver up your spine as he got up.

"where are you going?" you asked, watching his shadow move around the room.

"I'll just watch some tv or something"

"oh- alright," your voice was so small you almost didn't sound like yourself.

He didn't seem to hear you as he closed the door behind him, casting a veil of darkness over the room.

Once again, you were alone.

You turned towards the window, the moon's soft glow split the ocean of blue in the sky, shily lighting the neighborhood.

You felt a knot in your stomach, a sudden urge to cry, but as you watched the wind glide through the leaves and trees and grass, you were able to breathe, breath with each gust, slowly willing your heart to stop racing and your eyes to dry.

There was nothing to cry about.

Everything was good, great, fantastic even.

You had the perfect life.

Everything you had ever dreamed of was right in your grasp.

You just needed time, and everything was gonna work itself out fine.

…

Next chapter

...

(if you’d like to be added to the taglist comment or text me)

[kp0ptributera]

A new start

A/N: Somehow a follow up to my first smut, somehow the start of something new, hope you’ll enjoy it and get ready for a wild ride Word count:2,6k Contains: Some angst, Boss Lisa, squirting, more angst (for the plot, but don’t worry it will be fine)

You woke up, knowing it would not be a day like any other, since Somi’s arrival at your work and the day you started watching over her, there were no more boring days. Everyday was filled with fun and work seemed to become easier, because you finally had someone you could trust and who would be by your side in rough moments. But even if everything seemed to be amazing, you often thought deep in you that you were missing something, that you could do better or even that this work could bring you nothing more, so you started looking for a new one, in secret, telling no one you were wanting to run away and take a new start. Someday, you stumbled across a job offer, totally fitting your skills, so you applied, just for fun, you didn’t thought you would be called back. The offer said they were looking for a new manager in a young company, all you needed was to accept that shifts could be pretty long and get along well with others. But then, the phone call that would change a lot of things came, it was a woman’s voice, asking you question about your resume and telling you the company was interested in you, giving you a meeting at their office later that week, you didn’t knew how to react, should you tell it to Somi? “Nah” you thought, “It’s nothing more than a meeting, I’m sure they have better candidates anyway….” . ————————————————————————

The day of the meeting came faster than you imagined, but to be honest, you spent most of the week daydreaming and working mechanically. “-Are you okay?” you heard the voice of Somi getting you out of your thoughts “-Hmmm?” you answered “-I asked if you were okay, you look somewhere else for the last few days, is the boss asking too much of you?” “-No, no, it’s not that….I..I have a meeting later today for a new job, I feel like I’ve done all I could here, each day looks the same, except when I’m with you” you smiled at her “-And when were you thinking about telling this to me?” she looks upset, and you understand that “-After leaving me here alone with that old perv ? Or would you have just disappeared without telling me?” her eyes were getting redder before she starts moving toward the door “-Somi, wait-“ But it was too late she already fled the room, leaving you alone ————————————————————————

The rest of the day went like this, Somi avoiding you and you looking like an idiot, trying to find the words that would make her feel better. You finally headed to the meeting, the building was recent, and only a few offices were actually being used so when you stepped in the elevator, you were surprised to meet someone, the surprise was even greater due to the fact she was just stunning, the kind of girl that could make any guy bend the knee with just a look. You took a moment to gain your composure back and shyly talk to her. “-H-Hi” you stumbled on your words “Damn, I must look like an idiot” you thought but anyone would become stupid with a goddess like her next to them “-Hello, are you looking for something?” her voice sounded like a melody to your ears “-Well, yes…I’m coming for a meeting and I’m kinda lost, is there any chance you knew the floor of this company?” you showed her the mail with all the information you had “-It must be your lucky day, because I’m also heading there” She flashed a smile, and you felt like time stopped, this image would stay engraved in your head forever, but Somi’s smile appeared in your head and you suddenly felt sad “Hey, are you okay?” her voice bringing you back inside that elevator “-Y-yeah, it’s just I was….I was thinking about something I should take care of after” You tried to flash a smile, but she knew it was just a mask

The ting marking the fact you reached the desired floor filled the elevator, and you followed the woman through the office, everything seemed really recent so you wondered what kind of job the company would give you. You both reached a locked room so the woman reached for her bad and opened it with a key, inviting you to enter. It was bigger than your previous office, which was already kinda impressive, but what shocked you is when she took place behind the desk and invited you to sit.

“-Welcome to my office, my name’s Lisa, nice to meet you” She smiled again, leaving you a moment to assemble the pieces of the puzzle in your head. “-S-so it was you I had on the phone, I’m sorry ma’am, I must look like an idiot now” You giggled, a bit stressed by the situation. “-Don’t be sorry, I shouldn’t have played this little trick to you, in fact I wanted to meet you before telling you I could be your future boss, just to see how you were” She started laughing and suddenly, you felt better “-I hope I haven’t done something wrong then” you laughed a bit with her, the atmosphere becoming friendly in a matter of seconds. “-No, don’t worry, in fact, you did pretty well, you didn’t tried to be a playboy and it’s something I like” “-If I can be honest, I was too stunned to even think about it” “-Really? Why?” she stared at you with an amused look “-Well, first, everything looks so new and expensive here that I don’t even know if I’m qualified to work here, then I saw you and I thought that I was really looking out of place next to you” You flashed a smile “-Sweet talker, aren’t you?” She smiled and you started laughing. “-Nah, just honest ma’am” “-Please, call me Lisa, if we are going to work together, the first rule here is that everyone should get along, so no “boss” or “ma’am”, we’re in this together” Her tone was a bit more serious than before “-Understood, but I have a question, what do you wait from me exactly, I mean if I was hired” “-You would be my assistant in a way. I can’t always be around so you would second me in all that matters, and make sure all the employees feel good and can work without stress.” “-And how many employees are they?” “-Right now, we are less than 10, but I plan on expanding a lot, so there will always be something to do for you” “-Then I have a question” You said those words without thinking “-Yes, tell me, is it about the pay, or the schedule?” “-N-no, it’s just that…..I have an assistant where I work actually…would it be possible for her to join too?” The thought of Somi joining this place with you gave you confidence “-I’ll think about it, but wouldn’t she distract you? It’s the one you were thinking about in the elevator, right?” She smiled again, reading you like a book “-I don’t want to leave her behind, she is qualified for any work, I just don’t want to make her think I abandoned her” “-I see…. that might be possible, but I have a few more questions first, you don’t mind?” You saw a little light appear in her eyes, but you were so happy that Somi could come too to notice “-Ask me anything, I’ll answer as honestly as possible” You flashed her your best smile “-Did you fucked her?” She said that with a really serious look “-E-Excuse me Lisa?” You were struggling to breath “-I asked you if you fucked her, yes or no” “-I…. yes, I did, but before you tell me you can’t hire me for that…“ You started to justify yourself, but she stopped you “-Oh don’t worry, it’s not something that would eliminate you… It’s something that makes you win some points” her smile became a bit more lustful, her eyes scanning you behind her glasses “-Uh? What do you mean?” An alarm started to ring in your mind, but you didn’t knew why “-I mean it’s a plus if you don’t mind fucking your coworkers to get them rid of stress” She got up and come sit on her desk just in front of you, her skirt going up little by little while you tried to look somewhere else “And to make sure you can, it’s time for the test handsome” her voice became so charming she could have been a mermaid “-What should I do?” you gulped, feeling your mouth becoming dry “-If you can make me cum, you are hired right now, and I’ll do my best to find a way to bring your assistant too, if she accept of course, but If you can’t, well we would had fun but it would be all” she whispered it in a sexy tone that made you lose all common sense “So, should we get started?” What brings you back to the reality was the sound of her skirt coming off and your body moving on his own to her command

You kneeled in front of her, kissing her toned thighs through her panty hose while your hands started to wander from her legs to her shirt, unbuttoning it slowly and enjoying each little part of her skin you uncovered with your fingertips. Your mouth went upper and upper till it reached her soaked panties, your tongue making a bigger mess by licking it, her delicious monas making you more daring, you slipped your hands under her bra, to discover her tits were bigger than you first thought, just the right size to fill your hands and pinch her nipples, making Lisa’s moan a bit louder. “-Keep going handsome” Her hands were going through your hair as you slide her panties aside and start lick her pussy directly, she was as sweet as honey and burning hot, your tongue dancing from her holes to her clit in a choreography led by her moans and compliments, happily doing a good job. Suddenly you felt her getting wetter, so you focused on her clit, sucking and licking it with all till a juice explosion happened, you couldn’t hear it because of her thighs, but you were sure Lisa’s screams echoed through the whole building, her pussy drenching your face spasm after spasm before her legs released your head. You took a deep breath, glad of your work when she pushed you back on your seat.

“-Well you are hired, fuck it’s been a while since someone could eat me like that” she smiled at you “Now consider this as a bonus” She started kissing your neck while rubbing herself against you, her body moving in a hypnotizing way, her ass getting on your lap over and over making you harder than ever. “-If you do your work as nicely as you made me cum, I’m sure I could reward you with more than that” Her whispers made you start to see stars, how could you even take more than that without getting crazy? You swore to yourself that you would do your best to make the job. “-I’ll do my best Lisa” those words left your mouth between two moans “-Good boy” Her smile was even more mesmerizing from there, just before she kissed you “Maybe we should stop there, your phone is getting crazy” You were so hypnotized that you didn’t notice, and when you looked at it, it was just filled with notifications of missed call and message from Somi. “-Fuck….You’re right, but our deal is still up, you’ll do your best so she can join too?” you were worried that she said that without thinking it suddenly “-Of course I was serious, but she must accept” Her smile became much smoother, like someone looking at a love story and finding it really cute ————————————————————————

You excused yourself, Lisa telling you she will send your contract through mail, as well as your schedule and a list of the employees she was worried about. As soon as you reached the building entrance, you were wondering how you would tell it to Somi, not only about the new job, but also how you got it…. Maybe it was better to keep quiet about that part, but this secret could blow to your face anytime if you both work there. You choose to send her a message “Meet me at the coffee shop when you can, I’ll wait you there” and headed there, ordering her fav drink and waiting for her. “-Hey, sorry that I kept you waiting” Somi arrived, still looking a bit sad, but at least she isn’t screaming at you “-Hey, don’t worry, take a seat” You smiled at her “-So, how your meeting went?” She looked genuinely worried for that “I mean, you are good at what you do, there is no reason it went wrong…” her eyes glowed a bit “-I did well and I’m hired, but I have another news…Well two in fact, a good one, and one that I don’t know how to tell” You looked embarrassed and suddenly, you thought that maybe you should have tell her this at home, so there would be no scandal “-Hm tell me both of them” She raised her eyebrow “And don’t worry, I won’t scream here, I’ll wait till we get outside” She smiled, but it was looking like a threat “-Well, the good one is that if you want, you can also come…” “-OH REALLY, that’s amazing!” She looked so happy suddenly “-BUT this job will require me to do some…. Special things, like taking care of any employee who needs to release some stress…. And that’s also the test I had to pass to be hired…” Your heartbeat went crazy “-You…you mean you had to …. I see” her gaze became cold “And you want to tell me you can’t keep going with me because of that?” “-NO, that’s not that, it’s just that I don’t want you to find out someday…. I’m happy when I’m with you Somi, like a ray of sun after the storm, but if we want to have a better life, this job will be perfect…” “-And what if I don’t want to watch you be… be a whore for your company?” The words hurted more than you thought “-Then we will have to keep working for that moron till the end of time” You tried to joke, but her eyes told you it wasn’t the time “-I…I don’t know, I don’t think I could watch you doing that every day with other girls” her eyes were getting filled with tears “-Somi…” “-No, I think I’ll stay in this shitty company, someday I’m sure we could talk about this while laughing, but right now, I don’t want to hear you” She got up and started to go away, leaving you alone, seeing you abandoning you broke something in you.

You tried to send her messages, but she ignored them all, so you stopped trying, and asked Lisa when you could start working. Her answer was the following week, accompanied by the schedule and a list of 4 employees who would be under your direct orders. She also asked you about your assistant, or if you would need one, your only answer was “I wish I could fast forward time, but for now, she won’t be part of this.” You sent the mail, and wondered how you could fix this while keeping this job, but you knew it would take time, and at the moment, you were too exhausted by everything that happened to find the solution.

[xhanisai]

Uhh marichat where Chat gets Mari away from an akuma and she accidentally forgets she’s not wearing the mask when she talks to him.

~(x)~

.

He didn't even take the time to breathe and before he knew it, Chat Noir pounced on Marinette's frozen form and rolled them away in the nick of time. The nasty Akuma's razor-sharp claws swiped the area she was at momentarily ago at lightning speed and had the hero not been quick enough, well...

In his arms, he'd be holding Marinette "I'm-In-So-Much-Du-FUCKING-PAIN" Cheng instead and it would have been a severely gruesome sight. Thank the kwamis from all around the world that some good luck shined on him for once (but most importantly, thank the lucky charm bracelet Marinette gave him a long while back which he wore religiously every day as a civilian).

The Akuma's warning growls and oncoming form were enough to snap the feline out of his thoughts and by instinct, he picked Marinette up bridal style and sprinted away as fast as possible. Though, the Akuma let out one last roar of anger which Chat Noir managed to hear even after putting a few good hundreds of metres between them.

"I WILL GET MY REVENGE ON YOU MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG! YOU WILL NEVER INSULT MY BRILLIANT FOOD EVER AGAIN YOU BRAT!"

Wide-eyed, Chat Noir directed his greens towards his huffing good friend, the girl rolling her eyes at the Akuma's words and looking very annoyed rather than scared for her life. As if the whole thing was just an inconvenience and the Akuma's claws weren't literally millimetres away from turning her into a sheesh kebab.

"Marinette? Est-ce vrais?" He asked as he continued to leap from rooftop to rooftop, noting in the back of his head that the Akuma was now busy arguing with le Papillon in their head a good distance away. They were safe for now.

"He was selling mouldy fruit tarts! And the sandwiches tasted like they were made ten thousand years ago!" She folded her arms and huffed childishly again when he set her down on her feet, his hands on his hips and a brow raised attractively under the mask. "I told him this politely and tried my best to not make a fuss. But no! He started yelling at me and got all the customers' attention!" Her blue eyes then turned beady with its glare. "Then that stupid man tried to insult Maman and Papa, saying how can a stupid kid like me with parents like them know any better? So I said his food sucked and that even a five-year-old could do a way better job! Hmmph!"

Ahh. No wonder he got akumatised and had a vendetta against the pouting girl. Chat Noir could only smile at her endearingly, always admiring the way Marinette could get so fired up and passionate on behalf of other people. It's one of the many, many things about her that made his heart flutter and try his best to match her energy when he can. It's just a shame that instead of getting a chance to de-escalate the argument, le Papillon reared his ugly head and took advantage of the fuming man's emotions.

"Well. It looks like he's itching to dice you up and put you on a tart. You should hide before the Akuma--"

"COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE, DUPAIN-CHENG!!!!"

Just as Chat Noir was about to scoop her back in his arms and dart away, Marinette did a complete one-eighty and took on a strong stance. Fists curled by her sides, eyes now narrowed with determination and she stared down at the Akuma who was still quite a distance away from them; his giant but clumsy form still looking for her with a nasty scowl on his face.

"Chat Noir. Get to the rooftop on the Akuma's left and have your catacylsme ready. I'll summon a lucky charm once I'm behind him. I guarantee that the butterfly is in his apron so hopefully I'll get a pair of scissors or something." She was completely blind to the way Chat Noir gawked behind her, his jaw comically dropping to the floor and his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

He couldn't even utter a word.

"Let's go!" She ordered and just as she ran and reached the end of the rooftop they were perched on, her hand automatically went to the side of her hip.

When she didn't feel her yoyo anywhere on her and realised that she was still decked up in her civilian attire, it was as if a bucket of icy cold water mercilessly poured on her head. In pure Marinette style, her face contorted into one that screamed 'I FUCKED UP' and slowly, she faced her Chaton who was still gaping at her.

.

"...I can explain." She rasped weakly. Instead of laughing it all off and pretending nothing happened like he should've (that stupid cat!), Chat Noir got down to one knee instead, pulled off his ring, revealing himself to be none other than Adrien Agreste and spoke.

"Marry me. Now. Please."

.

Of course, Marinette screamed like a dying monkey.

.

~(x)~

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Team Japan’s Manager:

Miss Manager is Great with Kids

Team Japan x Female Manager (she/her)

Warnings: swearing, obviously kids (sometimes they are scary 🫣)

Request here

AN: I apologize if this isn’t the best 😅

You know what’s really funny YN?

The similarities between being Team Japan’s manager and working in a preschool

Honestly it’s pretty much the same thing

Iwa drops the kids off for their morning practice

Yaku yells at them, scolding them for not playing nicely with the other team members

You have to remind them to eat and take bathroom breaks

Essentially, the same 💅

Which is why your transition from teaching to being team Japan’s manager was so easy

The guys 👉🏻 instantly love you

Was there really any doubt?

Of course, some of them *cough* ATSUMU *cough* HOSHIUMI *cough* make it their life goals to be hard on you

You can’t tell me they aren’t annoying and finicky about literally everything 🙄

But once again, it’s fine because you’ve dealt with snotty, marker covered kids pretty much your entire life

Literally these guys have nothing on a group of 3 year olds

The guys never really asked much about your previous job, not really caring much about where you came from before you started with them

Aran would occasionally bring up the subject but you’d just shrug, answering, “a little of this, a little of that.”

Let’s be honest, there’s no conversation that doesn’t involve volleyball lasting for more than 5 seconds in the Gym

Especially with Atsumu, Kageyama, Hinata and Bokuto

Guys really think that other occupations don’t even compare to Volleyball so why waste the time talking about it

However 👀 the boys would soon find out just how much they should have asked about your prior employment

Because you see, Kuroo had a little something up his sleeve to help promote Team Japan

“Come again?” Asked Gao

“A kids camp! Ages 4 to 9!” Kuroo excitedly explained

“Count me out,” Sakusa groaned

“You really think it’s a good idea for little kids to be running around while we practice?” Kageyama questioned

“Well you would t be practicing, it would strictly be for the kids,” Kuroo responded

“NO PRACTICE!” Screamed Atsumu, Kageyama, Hinata and Bokuto in unison

Iwa narrowed his eyes as you tried to keep a straight face, “listen here, if you don’t participate, I’ll have coach bench you and give your number up!”

The group immediately straightened up as Kuroo smirked

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? I mean it’s only for a couple hours right?” Komori responded

The guys all nodded as you tried your best to keep your composure

A week later, the camp was underway and let’s just say, it was going about as well as Seijoh’s chances of going to nationals 🫠

“Oh my go- gosh!” Atsumu shouted, stopping himself again from nearly letting out a bad word in front of the children

“These kids are actually feral!” Hoshiumi screamed, trying to wrangle two kids who were throwing volleyballs up into the bleachers

“I thought these kids were suppose to like volleyball!?!” Aran asked

“I never said that,” Kuroo chimed in, as he and Akaashi watched form the sidelines

Akaashi was there to do a special report on the teams event as well as take in the free entertainment

Bokuto and Hinata were rolling around on the floor, attempting (huge emphasis on ATTEMPT) to show the kids receiving

Sakusa was sitting with a group of kids who were “too cool” for this

Ushiwaka had already made 3 kids cry just by walking up to them

Iwa had left to cool down because he was at his breaking point

And you, well you had seen enough

Suddenly, Kuroo watched as you grab the microphone and headed to the middle of the gym

“Hey kids, who wants to see a professional athlete serve?” You shouted as all the kids (yes I’m including the athletes) looked over at you

Suddenly, screams and shouts filled the air as all the kids flocked towards you

The guys, Kuroo and Akaashi, included all watched in wonder

“Ok we all need to sit in the chairs because this guys serves can be either really good or really bad. Atsumu, show them!”

Atsumu rn 👉🏻👁️👄👁️ HEY MY SERVES ARENT BAD!

“I’d say it’s 50/50,” Sakusa chimed in as Atsumu growled

“Hey how come I don’t get to show them my serves Yn?” Kageyama grumbles

“Tobio you’ll get a chance just calm down and wait your turn ok?”

After the show of serves, you again grabbed the kids attention

“Ok so who wants to try spiking??” You ask as a million tiny hands shoot up

“Ok everyone get in line, littlest to oldest, and we will all get a chance to practice!”

You made your way to the nets, team and children following you like little ducks as you began to coordinate

Iwa watched in awe as your skills, impressed at your ability to manage such a wide age range

I mean 💅 this is Yn Iwa, what did you expect?

After the event, the kids all came up to you after getting their autographs and gave you a big hug

“Thanks so much Miss Yn!” They all smiled as they ran to their parents

“YN why didn’t you tell us you were good with kids?” Yaku asked

You just shrugged, “it never came up.”

“I mean it makes sense, look how good she is with the other idiots,” Iwa said, nodding over to the feral group

“OMG YN THAT WAS SO FUN! Can we do that again??” Bokuto screamed, jumping up and down

“We deal with enough children daily so no,” Sakusa said, turning to leave going to the locker room

“What kids- HEY WHAT THE HELL OMI??” Atsumu yelled

You just smiled, knowing your boys were the best kids around 😌

[aussiepineapple1st]

Hi there! If your taking requests can you do a Leon x reader where they have a baby and one night theyre sleeping in bed when there's an intruder in the house and it ends up being Ada and Leon goes to check it out and tries to reason with Ada. The reader goes to check on Leon when they see Ada holding their baby and hears her arguing with Leon. Leon telling her to hand the baby over and get the hell out but the reader steps between Leon and Ada and sizes Ada up saying "what the hell do you think your doing with my baby?" Like a badass reader and Leon being impressed and just so in love?

Thank You! 🥰

I will do my best!😅

Stolen Child

Words: 1,266 Contains: Daddy Leon, guns

Coming back from feeding your 5 month old daughter, you slide back in bed with your husband. Rolling over Leon had stayed awake just in case you needed his help, insisting you got it this time.

"Is she happy now?" He asks pulling you into his body to get comfortable once again.

"She is... But you should be asleep, you had it tough the last week." You were worried about your husband's health, he had come home to you bloody and bruised. You had been with Leon during Racoon City, you also had managed to live a fairly normal life. Working your way up to your own dream job as a successful Café owner.

"I'm alright, I just feel bad leaving you alone with her for so long."

You shake your head at his words and snuggle into his warm chest. "You do more than enough for both of us already." Sighing, you close your eyes. She would be wanting another feed at around 4am so you had a few hours to sleep.

An hour passes and you feel Leon pulling away from you leaving the bed. You wake up, but guess he was only going to the toilet. Staying on your side you start falling back asleep when you hear Leon talking, you groan and sit up. Does he really have a call at this time of night? You reach over turning on the lamp beside you and look over to his table... No, his phone was right there. You didn't hear a knock at the door?

Sliding out of the bed, you use the carpet to your advantage and stay in the hall, listening to where his voice was coming from.

"I won't ask you again." There he was, in your daughters room, the tone of his voice had your heart racing. Peeking through the gap in the door you see Leon standing there, facing the window. His arms were extended, holding his gun in his hands. Trained on a woman holding something in her arms.

"Put her back in the crib or so help me I'll shoot." Leon's voice was low and demanding, but soft enough to not wake the still sleeping baby.

"You wouldn't do that, I might drop her." The woman's voice was smooth and sensual, mocking Leon with what she knew he would never do while his daughter was in danger.

You couldn't just stay hidden! Opening the door, the woman pulls her own gun on you. "What the hell are you doing with my baby!?" You didn't care if you woke her, you wanted her out of the arms of this intruder. Who would steal a baby?!

"Ada, don't." Leon warned as he steps between you and her gun. So this was Ada? The very same woman Leon had told you about from Racoon City when you had both been separated in the mayhem. The woman who he would tell you kept popping up on his jobs.

Placing a hand on the back of his shoulder you step around your husband, his finger leaving the trigger, almost starting to squeeze it. Still keeping it trained on Ada he makes sure you weren't in the way if he needed to in fact, shoot her. "What do you plan on doing with her?" You ask.

Ada just glanced down at the still sleeping babe, a smirk pulling at one side of her lips then lifting her gaze to you once again. You had stepped close enough for the barrel of her pistol to be pressed against your collar bone. Ada frowns at how ballsy you were, she could tell why Leon had fallen for you and was still with you even after so long. "Sorry, but I don't work and tell."

Leon was stood directly behind you, so you knew she wouldn't shoot, just in case she hit him. Ada not expecting the speed in which you had grabbed her wrist and lifted her arm to the ceiling, your grip making Ada wince slightly as you step even closer. Yes, you were shorter than she was, by half a head, but your intense stare made up for your height intimidation.

"You'll hand my baby back to me now and leave the same way you came in. And if I ever..." You lower your voice to a growl. "Ever! See you again, I will Not hesitate to shoot you, unlike my husband."

Ada tilts her head up, seeing in your eyes you weren't joking. Maybe the job she thought would be easy wasn't, not with you being the child's mother. She looks to Leon who was smirking at you, she could tell he was impressed by your show of protection for your daughter. Reluctantly she allows you to take your baby back from her arm, your hand still holding her wrist tight.

Once your daughter was back in your arms and only then did you remove your grip from Ada's wrist. Leon pulls you back into his side as he keeps his gun on Ada. "You heard her.. On your way." Leon motions with his gun for her to leave through the open window.

Once she leaves you wait before removing your gaze from the window and felt your legs go weak under you, the adrenaline leaving your body almost instantly. Leon saw you drop and half catches you, kneeling down beside you as you sat on the carpeted floor, cradling your baby. "You okay?" Leon asked seeing you starting to tremble.

"Y-Yeah, I'm okay, just.. my legs aren't working right now. Heh.." You were so scared, but protecting your daughter was your main objective, worrying about if you got shot later. "Did.. Did I do good?"

Leon just lets out a low chuckle from a closed mouth, rubbing your arms to help calm you down. "Yeah, I was even scared for a moment there." He didn't want to put his daughter back in her crib, not tonight. And it looked like neither did you, so he ends up scooping you into his arms while you held your baby.

"No you weren't.." You pout.

"Really, I was." He carries you back into your bedroom, placing you on your side of the bed. "I was scared you would be shot."

"Oh.. Right." Leon walks down stairs to fetch a U-shaped pillow, placing it in the centre of your bed. You then gently lay your daughter in the middle, both of her parents laying on either side of her for protection. You lay on your side, head on the pillow surrounding the tiny infant. Leon was doing the same, reaching down to use his index finger to draw tiny circles on the inside of her open palm.

She closed her fingers around Leon's finger causing a big smile to pull the corners of his lips. You watch the smile on his face and he looks up to you. "I was really proud of you for standing up against Ada. You were so hot."

"Oh please." You blush and pull the blanket over your shoulder. "You probably do that type of thing daily."

"Yes.. Sort of.. But you don't. God, I love you so much." He said reaching over his daughter and gently touching your cheek.

Your cheeks turn a darker red and look in his eyes that looked at you with pure admiration. He had seen a new side of you tonight and it only made him fall more in love with you. "I love you too, but we really need to figure out something about house security so this doesn't happen again."

"Right.."

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders

[wittlesissyb4by]

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Here

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.” Mr. Pennyworth says. 

It feels like a dagger has been shoved into my stomach. I’m not sure what to say, so he just continues anyway. 

“Your productivity is by far the lowest in the company, you’re not reliable to show up on time or even at all, and your long hair is unprofessional and not befitting of this company’s standards.” He clears his throat, sifting through some papers. “We also have reason to believe you called-in on Friday without actually being sick.”

“What makes you think that?” I say, finally speaking up for the first time. 

He shrugs, “Let’s just say we got an anonymous tip.”

******

“Everything alright with you?” Max asks, moving his pawn forward to free up his bishop. 

“I’m fine,” I say, half-heartedly moving my knight with no clear plan in place. “Lost my job today.”

Max frowns, moving his bishop out as I expected. “I’m really sorry, dude. That sucks to hear.”

“Yea…it’s fine, I guess,” I sigh, “Didn’t much like it there much anyway.” 

He still hasn’t said anything about the other day. I’m not sure if he actually saw anything, or he did and just doesn’t want to bring it up. How do you talk about seeing a bunch of sissy toys and diapers in your roommate’s room? Is that even something to talk about?

I remember back in college when my roommate at the time had found a slew of sissy porn on my computer. I was there when he saw everything. That sick feeling in my stomach took forever to go away. It’s back now. 

“Well if you start applying for jobs, you can always use me as a reference. Just say I’m an old manager or something.” He says, putting his Queen in a precarious position. I seize the opportunity and take it. I realize too late that it left my King open for an easy assault. An obvious trap I should have seen coming. 

“Checkmate.” Max says, smiling. 

******

As the weeks went by, so did the job opportunities and applications. I rarely received any callbacks, and even if I got an interview, I’d either get ghosted afterwards or they would call and say something to the degree of “after careful consideration, we’ve decided to go with another candidate.”

God, the job market is rough. 

My bank account is dangerously low. I probably should have done a better job of saving for times like this, but I guess I was more excited about buying outfits and diapers. Still, I’m not going to make it through the next month without some sort of income. It’s time to have the awkward conversation with Max. 

“Hey, man. Can I talk to you for a sec?” I say, shuffling my feet into the living room. 

He pauses the hockey game and turns to me, “what’s up?”

It’s such a weird topic to bring up, but I have to bite the proverbial bullet. “I’m having trouble finding a job…” I say sheepishly, “I didn’t work long enough at my last one to get severance, so…I’m a little low on funds.”

He just sits there, always with that stoic expression, listening intently. He doesn’t say anything, just lets me continue. 

“So…umm..I’m uh, gonna be short on rent this month.”

Again he continues to stare at me, as if deep in thought, stroking his beard. It almost seems a little exaggerated. Like he’s acting. 

“I see,” he finally says. “So you need me to help you?”

As demoralizing as it is to admit, I have to. “Yes…”

He smiles. “Okay. No problem.”

“Really?”

“Yea.”

I don’t know what to say. A weight of anxiety and fear is lifted off my shoulders. I can feel it melt away as I start to relax. “Thanks man, I really do appreciate it. I’ll find a way to make it up to you, I promise. Anything you need, just let me know.”

His eyes have a strange glint to them. Like he was hoping I would say exactly that. 

“I actually do have a job in mind for you,” He says, “You can start today.”

I sense a sudden shift in the air around the room. He leans back on the couch a bit, patting the seat next to him. I find myself sitting down beside him, not exactly sure what’s going on, but sensing something amiss. 

Max puts his hand on my leg, “it’s okay, nothing to worry about.” he says softly. I feel myself release a breath, feeling comforted, but still a little uneasy. 

It’s like he’s holding something back. Like he’s trying to find the words but doesn’t know how to say it. I wonder if he knows. If he saw the things in my room.

“I saw the things in your room.” He says. 

Yea, I’d say he knows…

My stomach does that familiar churning. The shame of what I've done, or been caught doing coursing through me. “I-i can explain…”

“Don’t bother.” He says, waving it away. “I’ve always had my suspicions.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I’ve always tried to be so reserved and secretive with my true desires. I didn’t think anyone else would notice. 

He shifts on the couch again. When he does, something catches my eye, there’s a very large bulge in his shorts. 

Noticing me looking at the log snaking down his leg, he starts running his hand over it and smiling. “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”

I realize my mouth is hanging open. I gulp, shaking my head. “Not a real one.”

He laughs at that, it breaks some of the tension, then he shrugs. “Well, there’s a first time for everything…” he gently pulls at his zipper, snaking it down ever so slowly. But he doesn’t pull it out, just leaves it open, letting my imagination run wild. “Do you want to suck it?” He asks. 

Again I find myself dumbfounded, this is all happening so fast, but before I can think about it I find the word escaping my lips. 

“Yes.”

He chuckles. “Good, because you were going to have to do it anyway. This place ain’t cheap.”

After our awkward laughter dies down, I’m left in the precarious position of what to do next. Luckily, he guides me after several seconds of silence. 

“Open my pants.”

I reach a shaky hand to his button, it takes me a bit to get my fumbling fingers to work it free. 

Again, I’m lost as to what to do next. Should we kiss? Do I close my eyes? What do I—

“Take it out.”

His direction helps. It’s easier for me to follow orders than it is to take initiative in such uncharted territory. I reach my hand into the waistband of his boxers, feeling around for it, my heart beating out of my chest. It doesn’t take me long at all to find the warm, fleshy member. I gently pull it back, it bends a bit before snapping out of the boxers to stare straight up at me. 

It’s big. Very big. I can barely wrap my fingers around it. The veins are popping out the side, and I can even feel his own heart beating through it. Pulsing. Rapidly. He’s just as nervous as I am but he doesn’t show it. 

“Well...it’s not gonna suck itself…”

I realize I’ve been staring at it for a while. I use my other hand to wipe the drool from my mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Somehow my throat feels both dry and wet at the same time, it doesn’t even make sense. Finally, I push past the nervous excitement, and lean forward. His cock seems to grow as it gets closer to my face. I’ve imagined this moment over and over for years. I’ve watched countless videos through the lens of girls wearing a GoPro on their head taking big, giant dicks into their mouths. But somehow this is different. I’m the girl now. It’s my POV, and it’s what I've always dreamed of. 

I open my mouth when I’m inches away and close my eyes, imagining I'm one of the girls in those videos. 

The head of his dick already feels different than my dildos. It’s squishier, warmer, and tastes just a little bit salty, but in a good way. In a great way. This is what I've always wanted, and I’ve finally gotten it. 

I hear a soft moan escape my lips just before they close around his cock. It sounds pathetic, but I don’t care. Things finally feel…right. Like this is what was supposed to be in my mouth all along. All those things they told me in sissy porn were true. 

I take him deeper in my mouth. I find it easier to slide it  down my throat than my dildo. I take it as far as I can until my eyes water, then go back up for a breath. 

In the overwhelming rush of stimuli, I forgot all the techniques I’ve practiced for so long. I try to remember: swirl your tongue, suction on the way up, not down, and most importantly: keep it nice and wet. 

I let the drool run from my mouth, using my hand to coat his cock with it, taking a breath before diving back down. 

“Someone’s been practicing.” He breathes. 

I melt at his praise. I always wanted to be a cocksucker, and I always hoped I’d be a good cocksucker. But you never really know, my dildo doesn’t make noises. 

But him? He was breathing heavily, moaning, groaning, and doing all the things that told me I was doing something right. It ignited a fire in me. With every grunt he made I found myself getting more and more enthusiastic so as to make it happen again. 

Leaning over across the couch next to him is a bit awkward, though. 

He notices. “Get on your knees.”

I take him out of my mouth and scramble a little too eagerly onto the floor between his legs. 

He looks down at me, almost victoriously, like his plan has come to fruition. I am in no way perturbed. In fact, my cock is screaming inside my pants. I don’t think I've ever been this hard in my life. 

“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself.” He says, apparently noticing my penis poking prominently through my pants. “You can touch it.” 

Is that his decision? I guess so…because as soon as he says it I find my hand going inside my pants. 

“No no.” He says. “On the outside. Rub it like you’re a girl. A sissy girl.”

Just the sound of that word gives me a wave of pleasure. I’m so hot and bothered that my body is quaking. I love the way he’s dominating me. Taking my power away so I don’t have to make the decisions myself, and therefore making me more relaxed about doing something I may otherwise have chickened-out on. Would I be here, on my knees, about to suck his cock if he hadn’t made me? Is he making me? Or am I doing it on my own volition?

I knead the front of my crotch. Feeling my throbbing cock and nestling my aching balls. I feel a bit weird with him watching me, so I turn my attention back to his cock. Well, more specifically, his balls. I’ve learned that when worshipping a man—as I’m doing right now—maintaining eye contact while lapping at his balls is one of the perfect ways to show your submission. I also know (from being on the receiving end) that having your balls sucked does not feel nearly as good as porn makes it seem, it’s actually kind of painful. 

So after licking his sack and stroking for several seconds, I spit on his dick and take it back into my mouth with renewed vigor. My own balls are aching at this point, I can feel them turning blue. I use two fingers and twirl them in circles over my pants while I bob up and down on Max’s dick. 

“Fuck yea…” he moans. God it feels so good to make him make those noises. “I’m gonna cum.” 

So am I. 

Knowing he’s on the verge gets me insatiably hot. I want nothing more than to get him to bust in my mouth, like some sort of primal need. 

I hear myself moaning again. I’m not sure if it’s from the pleasure I'm giving or receiving. 

“You want it in your mouth?” He asks considerately. 

“Mhmm!!” I swoon hungrily around his dick. My hand gyrates over my own. The thought of making a man cum in my mouth is too much to handle. I feel a warmth fill my pants as I shake and convulse, trying to keep my focus on his dick while I spasm in an intense orgasm. 

I feel the desire begin to fade. The reality of what I'm doing seeping in. This is my roommate, and I’m on my knees in our living room slobbering all over his big dick like a girl he just met on Tinder. 

“Ohh yea…” he twitches. I can feel the head of his penis swelling, even more than it was before. It gets me excited again. Eager. Desperate. “Right there, just like that! I’m almost there…”

I’ve never been on the receiving end of that statement. Guys saying they’re almost there but are actually a few minutes out. 

My cheeks are starting to burn, my throat is getting sore, it burns from the bile of gagging, I need air, to take a break and a breath, but I don’t want to lose my progress. I need to power through and do what I need to do. 

He grips the cushion of the couch. His legs flail and tense. The head of his cock is bigger than ever. His breathing becomes labored, syncopated, and then it stops. 

That’s when I felt the first gush hit my tongue. Even though I was expecting it, I wasn’t exactly ready for it. Another pump, and then another. I worry I won’t be able to hold it all. 

He gives a big exhale, and that’s when I know he’s spent. I hold his dick and his cum in my mouth a bit, not exactly sure what to do next. I suck a bit more to pull out any remaining drops, then take him out of my mouth. 

The jizz is warmer than I expected it to be, saltier too, but it doesn’t taste bad. It’s my reward. A token of my accomplishment. I just sucked my first real dick, and it was everything I hoped it would be. 

I gulp down the load, smiling gratefully like any good little slut would. 

“Good job.” He says, patting me on the head like I’m a well-behaved puppy. “Now run along…”

That’s it. He doesn’t say anything else. Just pulls up his pants, zips them back up, grabs the remote, and resumes the Hockey game. 

A little disheveled, I wipe the slobber from my mouth, get up, and head out of the room like a discarded toy. What did I expect to happen? For us to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ear? I don’t even think I would want that. But to be thrown away like that makes me feel…used. 

Then I remember the wet, sticky stain in my pants. A reminder that I enjoyed myself, a lot. 

So I guess it’s no surprise that when I got back to my room, I shut the door, locked it, and started enjoying myself two more times…

To Be Continued

~~Click HERE to go see Chapter 3!~~

[rubyreduji]

us and the stars — csc

summary: sitting under the stars on the hood of seungcheol’s car puts a lot of things into perspective

tags: smut (minors dni!), fluff warnings: explicit unprotected sex, outdoor sex wc: 2.3k an: i wrote the first part of this at rehearsal when i should have been doing work LOL

part of @sunnylovespickles september candy land collab!

occhiolism - to be aware of how insignificant and small you are compared to the universe

You can feel the bags weighing down your under eyes as you unlock the door to your apartment. You don’t bother being tidy as you throw your bag onto the ground and kick your shoes off. Your back hurts, your head has been throbbing since lunch, and on top of that you can’t get the nauseous feeling out of your stomach.

Today was utter shit.

None of it would nearly have been that bad, if it wasn’t for your last meeting. It started off so well, until your boss called on you to do your report for the week. You were proud of your work but as soon as you started to give off the data to your boss, he automatically shut you down, telling you you wasted your week doing everything wrong. Then your least favorite co-worker had to make snide comments about how he’ll have to spend all of next week fixing your mistakes. You spent the rest of your day trying to keep your tears at bay as you avoided eye contact with anyone who walked past you.

Then right when you thought you were going to be able to go home, your boss pulled you aside for a long talk about your quality of work. The whole conversation made your poor mood even worse and as soon as you got into your car you finally let yourself cry, sitting in the parking lot way after hours just to let it all out.

“Love? Is that you? You’re home late.” All you can manage is a grunt as you hear Seungcheol pads out of the bedroom. He sees you slumped down on the couch and automatically moves over to you, pushing you around a bit so you slump down against him instead.

“Hi,” you mumble, no energy in your voice.

“Hi baby. Bad day?” Seungcheol drops a soft kiss to your temple.

You nod. “I’m terrible at my job. It was so embarrassing, Cheol.”

“I’m sure it’s not nearly as bad as you think.”

“My boss called me out in front of everyone!” You shout, finally finding some energy to sit up and face your boyfriend. “Then went on about how I’m putting up behind schedule and now he’ll never trust me to do anything again.”

“Well that’s not right of him…but I’m sure that this will all blow over next week. Everyone knows how hard of a worker you are, this is just one mistake, it’s not the end of the world.”

“It is for me!”

Seungcheol chuckles slightly and you can tell he thinks you’re ridiculous but you don’t feel ridiculous right now. You feel awful. This job was supposed to be your big break and now you’re messing it all up.

“C’mon.” Seungcheol stands up and offers his hand to you.

You stare at him a bit exhausted but he’s unwavering and you finally relent. Seungcheol pulls you up onto your feet and pushes you towards the bedroom.

“Change into something comfortable. If you’re not out in ten minutes I’m coming in and dragging you out.” With that Seungcheol shuts the door, leaving you alone once again.

You’re half tempted to just lock the door and crawl into bed, but a part of you is curious to see what your boyfriend has planned. You strip off your work clothes and change into a t-shirt and an old pair of sleep shorts before shuffling back out to the living room where Seungcheol is waiting with his car keys.

Before you can question him he’s tugging you out the door and to the car and taking off. Seungcheol ignores your questioning stare as he hums along to the radio. The sun is starting to set and you stare at the oranges of the sky as you try and pretend you’re not replaying your day over in your head.

When the car finally pulls to a stop, you look around to see you’re in the middle of nowhere. You frown at Seungcheol but he just grins at you and gets out of the car. You watch as he moves over the passenger side and opens your door for you.

As soon as you step out Seungcheol moves over to the hood of his car and slides on before patting next to him.

“You’re going to dent your car,” you tell him.

“Don’t be a party pooper. Get up here.”

You huff but still do as told. Seungcheol grins wide at you as he lays back and you follow suit. You look up at the sky and you suddenly realize why Seungcheol brought you out here. You finally allow yourself to take a deep breath. You release it slowly as you take in the sight above you. The sky is a deep blue, freckled with white glittering stars.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Seungcheol asks you.

You nod slightly. “It really is…” You’re completely mesmerized, all of your worries finally ebbing away.

“Those stars are trillions of miles away,” Seungcheol says. “Isn’t it crazy how big the universe is?”

“Yeah…,” you mumble. “We’re so small compared to that.”

“Exactly! The world is so big, and we’re so small. Doesn’t that put everything into perspective?”

“In what way?”

“Everything’s just so…insignificant.”

Seungcheol’s words suddenly suck your peace away as you sit up quickly. “YOU’RE SAYING I’M INSIGNIFICANT?”

You thought your boyfriend brought you out here to make you feel better, but now you feel like complete shit. You already knew you were a giant fuck up, but now you’re a fuck up that’s insignificant as well. You go to move off the car, ready to make Seungcheol take you back home and make him sleep on the couch, but Seungcheol quickly grabs your arm.

“Baby no! No! I’m saying your mistake was insignificant. There is so much going on all around us and billions of lightyears away; in the grand scale of things your one single mistake means nothing.”

“Well in the grand scale of things I’m also insignificant.” You glare slightly at Seungcheol but he just leans forward and cups your face in his hands.

“How can you be insignificant when you're my whole world?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You struggle for a moment, unable to get any words out.

“Your mistake doesn’t matter. Fuck those guys for making you feel like this, because you are the most hard working person I know. You matter though. You matter so much. Everyday I live is a good one, because I get to spend it with you. So who cares if the grand scale we’re small and insignificant, because even if we are, you’re still my everything, and there’s no one else I would rather be insignificant with.”

You feel tears start to stream down your cheeks for a second time today, but this time it’s for a completely different reason. You finally let a small smile cross your lips. You lean forward and kiss Seungcheol, not caring that you’re getting your tears on him. When you pull back you lean your forehead against his.

“When did you get so sensible?” You ask him with a small laugh.

“I wouldn’t say sensible…just insightful.”

“Whatever it is…thank you,” you tell him. “You always know how to make me feel better. I’m sorry about how I was behaving earlier.”

“Don’t apologize, we all have bad days. I just want to make sure your bad day doesn’t turn into a bad night.”

“Well you definitely did just that.” You lean in once again to give Seungcheol another kiss, deepening it this time.

Seungcheol sits up a bit so he can hover over you, pressing you down into the hood of the car. He pulls back slightly before whispering, “You want me to make this an even better night?”

“Ch-cheol!” You gasp. “We’re outside…”

“So? No one’s here. Wouldn’t it be romantic? Fucking under the stars.”

You feel Seungcheol’s fingers trail up your sides, slightly pushing up your shirt and you whine. “F-fuck, just touch me Cheol.” 

Seungcheol chuckles slightly and pushes his hands all the way up your shirt, groping your chest in his palms. You feel his thigh press down against your clit and you let out a soft moan. 

You feel the tension escape your body as pleasure starts to take over. Seungcheol’s mouth trails over your neck, peppering kisses and nips all over your skin. You slide your fingers into his hair, holding his head to your neck.

“Need you,” you whine, desperate and pathetic. You didn’t realize how badly you need this but now that you have it, you can’t get enough.

“Already?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” you beg.

“Of course, pretty girl. Anything for you.” Seungcheol presses a final kiss to your neck before sliding off the hood. He stands at the front end of the car, pulling you towards him so your hips line up. Seungcheol pushes your shorts down your legs until they’re only hanging off one ankle before unzipping his pants and tugging his cock out.

He jerks his cock in his fist until it gets up to full mast before reaching out to brush his thumb over your clothed clit. You can hear him hum with satisfaction when he feels how wet you already are. You let out a soft whine to signal your impatience and luckily your boyfriend takes the hint and pushes your panties to the side. You feel his blunt tip rub up against your folds for a moment before he pushes all the way in.

You let out a content sigh at the familiar feeling of Seungcheol’s cock stretching you open. HIs cock fits into you snugly, like your pussy was molded just for him. Seungcheol pushes his hands back up your shirt, kneading at your tits as he starts to slowly thrust into you.

You wrap your legs around Seungcheol, pulling him into you deeper and preventing yourself from sliding off the car. As Seungcheol picks up his pace, fucking into you more rapidly, you throw your head back, marveling in the sight of the galaxies above you as your boyfriend fills you full of his cock. Seungcheol was right, it is pretty romantic.

Seungcheol brushes his thumb over your nipple, flicking the bud and sending jolts through your body. You gasp, your eyes screwing shut. Your whole body feels like it’s buzzing as Seungcheol snaps his hips into yours, his cock slamming into your walls and driving you closer and closer to insanity.

You reach up blindly and grasp Seungcheol’s shirt, pulling him down to you. Your lips meld together with his as you put all your focus into kissing him. His body pressed down into yourself, pinning you down against the cool metal of the car. Your whole body is wrapped around him as you hold onto him to stable yourself.

Seungcheol’s soft grunts are probably the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard and despite him being fully pressed up against you, you pull him into you further, wrapping your lips around his bottom lip and sucking as hard as you can. Your boyfriend’s lips are already plump, but you have a bit of an obsession with trying to make them completely swollen. Seungcheol doesn’t mind though, in fact you know he finds immense pleasure from you sucking on his lip. The way his hips slam into you harder is also an indicator that you’re doing something right.

It’s a little embarrassing how quickly you can already feel your orgasm approaching but you blame it on your stressful day and your boyfriend’s determination to make you feel better. You drag your teeth over Seungcheol’s lip before letting it go only to press your lips to his ear.

"M'close Cheollie."

“Fuck baby, cum for me. Cream all over my cock,” Seungcheol tells you. His grip tightens on you as his thrusts become more pointed, pushing straight up against your g-spot. 

You whimper as you finally release all of your pent up stress from the day, letting your orgasm wash over you. You hold onto Seungcheol tightly as you shake in his arms, your boyfriend pressing soft kisses to your jaw as you do so.

At some point you register Seungcheol pulling out of you and cumming on your stomach but you don’t fully regain consciousness until a few moments later. You don’t move as Seungcheol grabs a few napkins from his glove box to clean both of you off.

After you two are finally back in normal shape Seungcheol climbs back up onto the hood (which is definitely dented now) and pulls you into his side.

Nothing seems better than cuddling with your boyfriend and stargazing but your stomach has other plans and rumbles loudly, causing Seungcheol to laugh and you to groan.

“I haven’t had dinner yet,” you say. “You dragged me away too soon.”

“Okay baby, let’s go get dinner.” Seungcheol pecks a kiss to your lips before rolling off the hood of the car. You reluctantly do the same.

“We should do this again,” you tell your boyfriend as he starts the car. “Sometime we can actually stargaze for longer.”

“I’d like that. And I’ll be sure to pack some food to bring as well.”

This time as you two drive down the road you slip your hand into Seungcheol’s and hum along to the radio with him. You glance over at him, only to see him sneaking a glance back at you. He sends you a wink before grinning and looking back at the road, his hand squeezing yours. You can’t help but smile back.

As you settle back into your seat and glance out at the sky through the windshield, you find comfort in the fact that even if you are just a small part of the big universe, you and Seungcheol still found each other, and that’s something pretty special.

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[gingiesworld]

Buddy angst with happy ending.. Taylor or Gerri

Be My First

Gerri Fields x GN! Reader

Warning: Angst but a happy ending.

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N had lost everyone they had ever loved in one fell swoop, even being took in by Kate and Danny when they were still in high school after having no other family in the state. So they had had a friend in Gerri as they recovered from the car accident. They became Gerri's test audience to her music which they loved the sound of her voice. They found it soothing and they would never get tired of hearing her sing. Pretty much soon enough falling for the girl.

Even during the last summer they had spent there, they had a job and decided to help with some of the repairs around the Field's residence even though they were afraid to step foot into their old home.

They were there for them all when Danny passed away that summer too. Although Kate tried to stop Y/N from donating anything of their earnings to help towards funeral costs, they never backed down.

But the moment they heard about the fight between Lily and Gerri and how this guy, David was the cause of Gerri's heartbreak. They went straight to him, anger coursing through their veins as they approached him on the basketball court with Lily.

"Hey!" They called out to the two. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You lead on my friend and she thinks she has a chance with you and you." They turned to Lily. "You're supposed to be her best friend and you screw her over just like that."

"It never meant to happen." Lily started as David put his hand up to stop her from talking.

"It's none of your business kid." He told them as they scoffed. "What and who I do is none of your business."

"It becomes my business when it is someone I care about." They told him with a swing of their fist, connecting with David's jaw. Before Lily coupd stop it, he tackled them to the ground and punched them as hard as he could. Y/N soon managed to get out of his hold and kneed him in the crown jewels, sending him rolling on his front as he groaned in pain.

"What the fuck!" Lily yelled as she got on her knees to comfort David.

"Gerri needs you Lily." Y/N told her softly. "Not me. She needs her best friend." With that they left the court. Lily knew they were right in Gerri needing her, especially with the loss of her father.

That was the moment Y/N decided they should move out of the Field's residence and move back home. Although they remained there for them all, but not so much more for Gerri.

But the moment she had found out what they had done, she soon made her way to their home. Banging on their door.

"Y/N! I know you're in there!" She yelled as she continued to bang on the door. Y/N groaned as they got up from the sofa, stretching as they made their way to the door to open it to an angry Gerri.

"Hello." They greeted her as she stepped inside.

"Don't hello me." She told them sternly. "Why would you interfere in my relationships? Hell, why did you beat up David?"

"Lily told you?" They questioned as Gerri chuckled dryly.

"Of course she did. She told me at my dad's funeral, which you weren't even at!" She poked their chest as they sighed.

"I was there." They told her. "I paid my respects to your family and well, you were busy with Lily and I didn't want to interrupt the two of you."

"You could have still came to me." She told them as they shook their head with a soft smile.

"You need your best friend more than you need me." They started to fix the comforter on the sofa and move the pillow to the cupboard.

"I need you too Y/N." Gerri told them as her shoulders deflated. "I guess I was too hung up on the deal I made with Lily and then the two of us fighting over David that I never realised that what I needed was right in front of me."

"What was the deal?" Y/N asked her as they moved to the kitchen.

"To lose our virginity before college." She told them as she followed them. Taking the bottle of water from their grasp.

"You shouldn't just throw that away with someone who couldn't care about your feelings." They told her with a tender gaze. "Your first time should be special. Memorable even and with someone who would do anything to make the experience as comfortable, safe and loving as it happens. Someone who loves you with every fibre of their being." Gerri listened as they spoke, the butterflies in her stomach going wild as she gazed into their eyes.

"Then be my first." She whispered as Y/N looked at her, shocked by her bold words. "I want you to be my first. Hell, you should be the one to kiss me and speak sweet nothings to me everyday. You should be the one who has me. Mind, body and soul."

"I will be your first." They told her as they stepped closer, caressing her cheek as she looked up at them. "But not right now. Not this week because I want to do this right. I want to take you out on dates. Support you at your shows. Shower you with love, affection and gifts. You deserve to be treated as such because you are amazing Gerri and I would be the luckiest person alive to have you by my side through everything."

And with that, she sealed the new chapter with a kiss, loving and passionate as she sighed at the contact. Her whole being was electrified and well aware of Y/N's hands that had now moved to her hips. Squeezing and caressing as the kiss deepened as she wrapped her arms around their neck, keeping their body as close as she could. Her mind was full with every thought that was Y/N. Her every fibre craved their touch. Her heart belonged to them and she never realised soon enough, but she was ready for a lifetime of love and safety in the arms of her person.