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alchemistc · 3 months ago

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i present my latest offering of an au first meeting: the poker game.

Big Blind

Tommy's been on plenty of bad dates in his time, but this one might actually take the cake for worst first date he's ever had. They're just -- not right for one another, and it's clear they can both feel it, but for some reason Jeff just -- keeps talking. About his border collie rescue, and his sixth fourteener (this year), and the his upcoming promotion and the Cybertruck he's thinking about getting wrapped in matte black --

"Jeff," Tommy cuts in, when he starts in on Tesla stock talk. "I'm gonna pay the check and head out. It's been..." he gestures. Considers calling Stout right here at the dinner table to tell him no more blind dates with his stock broker brother-in-laws friends, no matter how gay they are.

He's gonna get shit from Stout's wife the next time she stops by with a casserole, but honestly a half-hour tirade on politeness from Heather Alexandra Stout sounds better than learning how much of an Elon Musk fanboy Jeff really is. Jeff looks like he might be offended by the implication that he wouldn't have paid, but Tommy's already waving down his server and gesturing to the bar by the time Jeff even thinks to reach for his wallet.

"You have a good night."

Andrea slides his check under his elbow with a raised brow and doesn't say a word when he hands her his card immediately, but he can tell she's judging him. Third date in a month he's barely contained his disdain for long enough to pay up, although this is the first he's outright ditched before the bill was even paid.

Gary slides a beer across the bar to him and refuses the cash Tommy tries to give him for it. "Do I look that pathetic, Gary?"

Man of few words, Gary just taps his nose and tips his chin to his date, who is doing a terrible job of trying to sneak out the door.

"You're too good for him, anyway," says Andrea, back already with his card. He tucks an extra twenty into her folder and downs the beer in silence while they watch through the window as Jeff seems to get into an argument with the Uber pulling up in front of the restaurant.

"Maybe it's me," Tommy says, and Gary hums in commiseration. Or maybe he just has gas. "Maybe I'm the problem."

It's been a string of bad dates, and before that a relationship that'd gone up in metaphorical but nearly literal flames. Tommy's spent a lot of introspective time wishing he could kill Gerrard with lasers so that he doesn't have to blame himself for staying in the closet so long that blind dates and Grindr meetups were his real introduction to the dating scene.

"Someday, Tommy, you'll meet someone who can't get enough of your morbid humor and your pessimism and your obsession with haunted cars."

"One car," Tommy argues, although that's beside the point. "I think maybe I should give the search for love a break, Gary."

Gary hums, again.

Tommy drinks the rest of his beer in companionable silence and pulls up his phone to order an Uber himself. Jeff is, thankfully, long gone, and Tommy's halfway through confirming his home address when he remembers the invite he'd received last week that he'd hesitated scheduling a date around. He shoots off a text instead, and updates the address before he slides from the bar stool.

Gary shoots him a look. "Headed home?"

Tommy shifts on his feet. Shoots a look behind the bar. "Nah. Gonna try to hit up a work thing. Pour me a shot of Tullamore for the road?"

Gary accepts the twenty this time and doesn't make a comment about the way Tommy downs a sipping whiskey, which Tommy appreciates.

He's halfway to his destination, enjoying the chat with his driver, when the text comes in from Lucy.

Had to bail, but you should go if the date went that badly. Williams will enjoy slowly ruining the remainder of your night.

Tommy taps his phone once, twice, three times before he makes up his mind not to be the asshole who changes his destination halfway through the ride. Worst comes to worst, he'll tap out early and Venmo Mehta the rest of his stake.

Better than moping at home with the pint of freezer-burned Ben and Jerry's.

-----

He's fairly rushed down the stairs once he's in, because apparently Williams is on some sort of time crunch, or something, and he's fairly certain the drinks are catching up to him as he takes in the table. Mehta and Wilson are regulars, and he's seen Rosen around, but there are two new guys settling in across the table and Tommy has to take a long, long moment to remind himself this is technically a professional setting before he can look too closely at either one of them.

Yeah. Shit, he'd definitely drank most of that second pitcher by himself, listening to Jeff talk.

"Kinard. We weren't expecting you." Rosen's eyes glimmer with amusement. He'd caught maybe six months of her probationary year, but every time she sees him she likes to remind him of the first time she'd seen him post-transfer, at a gay bar in WeHo, and introduced him to the first guy he'd dated seriously in his entire life. Tommy returns the favor by reminding her exactly how terribly that had ended for all parties. "Poker night dress code usually includes more buttons than date night," she jabs, finger circling the olives in her martini glass, and Tommy contemplates tossing one of Mehta's chips at her. Her grin goes wide.

With the momentary distraction, Tommy feels a little more prepared to face the two men now eyeing him curiously.

"Tommy," he says, leaning over the table, hand out to shake. Turtleneck raises a curious eyebrow when Mr. Red Velvet Smoking jacket practically leaps across his lap to shake back. "I'm over at 217."

"This is Eddie," Red Velvet introduces, and Tommy's gaze dances between them, curious. "I'm Evan. We're with the -- wait, 217 -- Chimney's Tommy?"

Tommy's brows dance up the same time as Eddie's do. He is still shaking hands with Evan. Or - holding is more accurate, he supposes, but for the sake of his sanity and the possible date Evan and Eddie are on, if he's reading the introduction or any of the vibes right (they're both stunning and Tommy is smarting from another shitty date, so who knows), Tommy keeps it to shake in his mind. "Well I don't think Howie can claim ownership of my person, but -."

"Sorry, no, I just meant..." Evan's gaze drops to their clasped hands, still now over the felt of the poker table. He gives one more firm pump and drops Tommy's hand. "We're both at the 118. Pretty sure you helped save this guy's ass once." He tips a thumb sideways to indicate the man he'd introduced as Eddie.

Tommy's eyes drift. He's had a few drinks, and up until about halfway through the date he'd been expecting a very different outcome for his night, so he's maybe not keeping a lid on things the way he normally would in a work setting. He's guessing the ass he's purported to have saved would look great, if it weren't firmly planted in his chair and out of view. The rest of the view ain't bad, either.

And.

Shit.

Williams is giving him a look, which means he's not being even a little subtle. "The gas main explosion," Tommy finally gathers from the cobwebs of his brain, and wouldn't it be his luck to transfer out of the 118 just in time for two annoyingly attractive men who may possibly be boning each other to take his place.

Evan grins. Beams, more like, and Tommy slides firmly into his own chair and tries not to be blinded by it. Or entranced by it. God he needs to get laid. Get this - whatever this is - out of his system.

Tommy's cool. Tommy's calm and collected and he hadn't even had that much to drink, actually, so why is he having such a hard time behaving like he's had forty years of experience dealing with attractive men?

Tommy sorts through the memories.

Eddie he can pinpoint fairly easily -- he'd shot off a message to Chim the moment they'd learned one of the 118 had been shot, and had been happy to break the news of his recovery to an anxious Harbor station in the tense days after it had all gone down. Evan, though - he doesn't have a clue who that could be. He's still got a few buddies from B Shift he talks to on occasion, but he doesn't remember any stories about an Evan from them, and Howie hasn't mentioned one, either.

Of course, it's not like either one of them does a great job of keeping in touch.

The mystery is solved a moment later when Williams tips her head at him. "Feels like we're being overrun by the 118 tonight," she says with a grin, but her gaze slides to Evan, rather than Tommy. "And we've got an honest-to-goodness legend tonight."

"You know I still can't believe you survived that, Buckley," Mehta says, and the puzzle piece slots itself into place. "Uh, although we're all glad that you did."

Buckley. Tommy shifts. Reassesses. Eyes the glance between Diaz and Buckley like he's gonna figure out their deal while he's already four and a half drinks deep into the night and hasn't already heard the larger than life tales of this duo from half-a-dozen gossipy paramedics. According to some, there's a secret torrid love affair going on behind the scenes of their codependent friendship. According to others, the ones he more or less trusts not to stretch the truth too far, they're friends -- closer than most, and maybe a little weird about each other, but friends all the same.

Buckley's a shark. Or, if Williams is to be believed, a bit of a cheat.

As the game goes on, and the conversation drifts from the morbid details of Buckley's three-minutes-seventeen-seconds of lifelessness, past the special skills near death experiences are rumored to cause, past the time out where they'd all admired the pictures of Buckley's Lichtenburg scars ("They faded pretty quickly," Evan says, with a soft little frown like he's a bit disappointed not to have any physical proof beyond a few shots of his naked brick shithouse of a chest.) Tommy can't help but admire the shift from bashful to smirking and smug as Evan keeps racking up monumentally improbable hands. He's a bit of a brat, actually, and Tommy can feel Rosen's eyes burning into the side of his head every time he ups the ante just to watch the flicker of triumph aimed in his direction every time Evan wins a hand Tommy raised.

Tommy's no slob with cards, on a normal day, but he's too busy trying not to read anything into the way Evan's eyes keep drifting to the v of the shirt he hadn't buttoned back up just to spite Rosen, or the way he keeps licking his fucking lips every time Tommy takes a sip of the whiskey at his elbow to really care as his chips dwindle to nothing. Tommy can't be entirely sure, but it seems like maybe Evan pouts, a little, when Tommy pushes back from the table to join the rest of the losers crowded around to watch Williams, Mehta and Buckley battle it out.

He's trying to think of a subtle way to ask Howie if Evan Buckley is just like that with all the men in his life when Eddie slides in beside him with a refill on his whiskey. Tommy grimaces. "I shouldn't."

"Thought you were trying to drink away a bad date?"

Tommy shoots Rosen a glare over Eddie's shoulder, but she's too busy chasing her straw with her tongue to notice.

"He was a Tesla fanboy," Tommy intones, and the braces himself for the reaction. He's used to it, now -- the constant cycle of coming out and waiting to see which new acquaintances bow out of getting to know each other any better. This is... earlier, than he usually drops it, but he hasn't been in the mood to lie about it in years, and Eddie had asked. He gets a raised brow and a grimace.

"Don't tell me you didn't know ahead of time," Eddie says, and Tommy loosens the grip on his glass.

"Hazards of blind dating."

Eddie's look is commiserating. He tips his beer bottle against Tommy's rocks glass. "Yeah, my tia keeps finding reasons for me to run into the eligible daughters and granddaughters of all her friends." Which Tommy supposes is answer to half of the question that's been plaguing him since he sat down.

Buckley gets cocky a few times, but it's clear the night is going his way even before Jeshan Mehta's pot gets swept up in Evan's arms. Williams holds out as long as she can.

"Beginner's luck!" Buckley crows, when Williams' last chip is added to his pile. Eddie's been supplying him with a steady flow of drinks for the past thirty minutes, and his smile is crooked as he tilts backwards in his chair for a fist bump. His eyes flick to Tommy's once he's received his congratulations from Eddie, and Tommy pretends he's not a little bit fascinated by the pull of his jacket over his arms, or the way his closed hand lingers near Tommy's even after Tommy has smacked his knuckles against his as well.

Evan Buckley is frustratingly adorable. Tommy's had too many drinks for any kind of decent decision making. He bows out while Evan and Eddie are collecting his winnings.

-----

Tommy's eyes flick to the readout on his phone. He doesn't recognize the number, but it's a local area code, so he picks up on the forth ring. "Go for Kinard."

"Uh - hey, hi. Hey Tommy." The voice is familiar, sweet and low. "It's Buck - Evan. Evan Buckley. I uh -- I got your number from Chim, I hope that's alright?"

Tommy's got a solid fifteen minutes before he has to leave for work, a raging headache that has thus far refused to accept electrolytes or Advil as tribute to his overindulgence the previous evening, and a full understanding that he's going to spend his shift listening to Donato swear up and down she's the better option for finding him a man, but the voice on the other end of his phone might at least give the headache a run for it's money.

"Evan. Hi."

"Hey. So -- you dipped before I could ask -- which is fine, obviously, I'm not -- uh..." He pauses. Tommy can practically picture the way he wets his lower lip while he searches for the right words. "Anyway I was wondering -- would you maybe wanna grab a beer, sometime?"

Tommy spends about fifteen seconds rearranging his entire schedule in his mind. Says, cool, calm, collected: "Sure. When are you free?"

Evan's voice goes distant for a second -- he's putting Tommy on speaker. "I, uh -- I didn't expect you to say yes so quickly. Actually I didn't expect you to answer -- who answers unknown numbers, anymore?"

"Who calls expecting to get sent to voicemail?"

The brat rises up immediately. "Uh, literally everyone. The missed call is just an excuse to text. It's basic phone etiquette, Tommy."

Tommy likes the way he says his name. Soft, sweet and slow, rolling over his tongue like molasses. This feels incredibly like flirting, but he can't get a fucking read on this kid. "Clearly I've missed out on an important cultural shift. I can hang up and we can do this the right way, if you want."

"No!" It's sharp -- louder, like he's raising the phone back towards his mouth. Tommy can't hide the grin leaking across his face. "Uh -- no, it's fine. Too late, anyway, I already know you don't know phone rules."

"Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me too much."

"I could be convinced to ignore it, with the right incentive."

"I'll buy first round," Tommy says, and wonders if he's got any other shirts he can play off as fitting better with three buttons undone. The flirting should be enough, but -- Tommy's still not sure drinks isn't just drinks.

"Wednesday night," Evan says, voice further away again. Tommy has a sudden, desperate urge to see what his Google calendar looks like. For all that he'd cut loose at the poker game, Tommy bets it's color coded by type of activity. "If that works. Or Saturday, any time, really. I'm uh -- I'm free then."

If Tommy bows out of trivia on classic car week Cynthia will have a whole ass bitch fit. And it makes him seem a little less eager, to boot. "Saturday. I've got a shift early Sunday, though, so maybe something in the afternoon?"

"Yeah -- yes, th-that works." The stammering isn't something Tommy can get a read off of. He'd done it just as much with Eddie as he'd done with everyone else. "There's a new brewery just off Pico and Prosser -- Chim said you were a fan of craft beer?"

Sounding more date like by the minute, but -- some guys toe the line. Could be Evan Buckley just wants to know more about flight operations, for all Tommy knows. "Text me the details. Look, Evan, I'd love to stay on this rule-breaking phone call and chat but I've got to head in for a shift. Just -- let me know the plan." He's got five minutes to brush his teeth and rue the moment he'd asked Gary for his first whiskey of the night. He's also rolling back his last few sentences and cringing at how abrupt he'd been. "And yeah -- good to know Chim hasn't forgotten the three facts I ever told him about me."

Evan laughs, just a soft little huff but Tommy already knows the grin behind that sound is all sorts of knee-meltingly sweet. "Cool. So. Yeah, I'll text you."

"I'll talk to you later, Evan."

"Yep. Talk to you -- talk to you soon."

Tommy waits a moment in silence. The call doesn't end. "Goodbye, Evan."

Evan huffs out another awkward laugh. "Yeah. Bye, Tommy."

The call disconnects just in time for Tommy to press his forehead into the cool tile beside his bathroom mirror. He might be monumentally screwed if this isn't a date. He hasn't been this fucking charmed by a man since -- well, it's been a while.

Tommy's phone buzzes in his hand. It's a pinned address from a number he doesn't have saved. Tommy swipes into the contact and updates it before the next text makes it through. Saturday 3PM?

Tommy brushes his teeth, downs the rest of his preworkout in the hopes that it'll ease some of the nastier parts of his stupid decision to keep drinking liquor past midnight, and stares at the text all the way out to his truck.

See you then, Tommy sends back, and he has to toss his phone into his passenger seat when he gets a series of incomprehensible emoji's almost immediately in response.

He holds up a hand to Donato the moment she catches his gaze, halfway across the parking lot. The brow goes up, the hand slots to her hip, and she rolls her tongue over her teeth, clearly ready for her speech about how Stout doesn't have a clue how to find Tommy a proper date. Tommy has other problems.

"You worked with Evan Buckley, for a while, didn't you?"

Her head tilt rights itself. The second brow dances up to meet the first. Whatever she'd meant to say disperses behind her eyelids as she seems to work through something in her mind. "Oh, this is compelling," she says, and practically skips forward to loop her arm in his.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #listen idk shit about poker #i do know tommy would be absolutely smitten with evan buckley as he got cockier and cockier with every hand of that poker game #anyway after this tommy realizes the drinks aren't a date but they COULD be #and like an idiot he decides he's gonna befriend and then romance the shit out of the oblivious bi boy #tommy helps buck deliver kam and connors baby and buck maybe kisses him about it #bucktommy alternate meeting

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

Note

Would you write a dark and toxic romance fic?

For instance, Carlos Sainz has a girlfriend. F1 has an influencer program and invites a lingerie model to a race. Carlos is highly attracted to her, basically on his knees for her. She doesn't want to get involved and pushes him away. Carlos can't stop thinking about her and wants her more every time he sees her. He starts to try and seduce the model. She secretly enjoys his touch and pet names, dirty talks and etc., but stops him every time. Under some circumstance they finally fuck, Carlos is obsessed with making her feel pleasure. After that she's avoiding him but all Carlos wants is more of her. She even prohibits the driver from braking up with his gf. Carlos obey but in exchange wants the model to be his friend with benefits

**Not dark sorry**

Lady in Red (1) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, cheating WC: 2.7k

One || Two || Three || Four

You tried to resist him, you really did. You could honestly put a hand on your heart and swear you turned down the advances he made but he was persistent.

“You’re riding with me, hermosa.” You jumped at the Spanish driver's voice in your ear, not realising he had managed to get so close to you without noticing.

“I’m meant to be in Charles' car,” you replied as your heart rate crept up, like his cleverly hidden hand on your ribs.

“Plans changed, now I get you all to myself.”

Each day you found it harder to fight the urge to give into him. The nights left you tossing in an empty bed as you imagined all the filthy things he had whispered in your ear each time he passed. This promotion with F1 and Ferrari in particular needed to end soon or, so help you, the temptation would be too much.

A clap of hands drew your attention away from Carlos and the professional photographer waved you forward to the red sports car waiting for you. You were accustomed to being the envy of the men around you, you were literally paid to lure them in with your body and the lingerie you paraded. This promotion was no different, only it seemed to be working a little too well on one man in particular - a man who was in a very public relationship.

“Gorgeous, honey!” Cristiano blew a kiss as he snapped away on his camera, capturing your poses on the hood of the car effortlessly.

It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed Carlos shuffle his way through the lighting staff and makeup artists to get a better view. You noticed, and you played with fire.

Carlos tugged at the collar of his race suit as his body temperature spiked. He had never been so enthralled by a woman before and he couldn’t let you leave without taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. The way you sat on the hood of his car made his blood race and when you leaned back and spread your legs as you looked to the sky, he swore that he had found the altar to worship on his knees for.

Carlos bit his lip and vowed to take you like that before the campaign was over. He was going to have you, he didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen - there was no price he wouldn’t pay, and everyone had a price.

Cristiano spotted Carlos edging forward, his shadow interfering with the light and snapped his fingers at the man. “You, red man, go to her.”

Carlos didn’t need any encouragement as he strode confidently to his car and looked down at your reclined position with a dark smile. “How do you want me?”

Your lips parted with an answer before you realised he was speaking to Cristiano and snapped your mouth closed but Carlos’ smirk grew. “Do you have something to say, hermosa?”

“I thought this was a lingerie shoot.”

“I can strip down for you, I have no problem with that,” he said as he reached for his collar but you caught his hand to stop him.

“I think your girlfriend would have a problem with that.”

“Then don’t think about my girlfriend.”

“Red man, baby, you’re too stiff. Relax and take a seat,” Cristiano called out, curling a finger for you to stand up. Carlos took your place on the hood and an assistant darted across the track with his helmet. “Okay, honey, turn around and do your thing.”

You inwardly cursed as you faced Carlos and saw your reflection in the tint of his visor, the bright red lace you wore matching his suit perfectly.

“Do your thing, hermosa,” he dared from the helmet as he lifted his feet to the front bumper and spread his knees for you to step between.

You told yourself this was just a job, that the chemistry was purely for camera, as you placed your hands on his knees and arched your back before looking over your shoulder. The sound Cristiano made was pure excitement and he snapped a few shots with encouragement to do more.

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Carlos groaned as your position thrust your breasts into his line of vision and he all but whimpered when you turned around.

You didn’t have to fake the pleasure on your face when you leaned back against Carlos and tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up under your lashes as you bit your lip. Without needing direction, his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against his body and your hand reached up, slipping beneath the back of his helmet to tug the strands of hair you caught.

“How wet are you, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you are absolutely dripping for me.”

You crossed your legs as naturally as you could in the stiletto heels and felt his chest bounce with a laugh. “Don’t be shy now. We are just getting started.”

His hands burned your skin as they slowly rose up your body and you didn’t dare breathe until they reached the cup of your bra and you pushed away from the car. You were at risk of doing something very stupid if you stayed there a moment longer. “What’s next?” you asked the director, silently begging it to be something solo so you could recover from being so close to Carlos.

But your wish was ignored.

“Some hot laps, you’re with Carlos.”

You looked longingly at Stacy who was making her way to Charles’ car but your view was interrupted by Carlos and the arm he threw over your shoulders, turning you to the passenger door. “Ready, cariña?”

“Carlos…” your words died out as he opened the door and gave you a look that dared you to moan his name again so you silently took your seat.

“Open your legs.”

“No!” you gasped before looking at your lap and seeing the seatbelt was nothing like ones you had worn in the past. This one had a buckle between your thighs. “Oh.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” he chuckled as he reached for the metal clasp, a hiss of air escaping your clenched teeth when his knuckles brushed over your panties. “It is humid here, isn’t it? Very moist.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“What? I am talking about the weather. Unless you know of something else that is moist?”

“Please stop saying that word.”

“How about wet? Do you like that? You can tell me what you like, I am a very good listener.”

“I would like you to please focus on driving.”

“Relax, I am good at multitasking.”

“Like having a girlfriend and still trying to get my attention?”

Carlos scoffed before closing the door and walking around to his side. “Cariña, I’m not ‘trying’ anything, I had you the moment you walked in my garage.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

The engine started with a purr and your heart skipped a beat as Carlos smirked to himself. “We’ll see about that.”

Your entire body was trembling by the time the car came to a screeching halt at the start of the track. Adrenaline flooded your body and after the thrilling speeds that Carlos had driven at the world seemed to spin too slow. You wanted that heady feeling again, it was addictive.

Carlos had barely paid attention to the track as the sounds that you made drained his brain of his blood and sent it straight to his dick. He took the turns faster so your shoulders brushed with his and he hit the chicanes harder to see your perfect tits bounce in the barely-there bra.

“Dinner, tonight,” Carlos stated as he turned the car off and reached over to the buckle and pushed it in. The plastic pressed to the juncture of your thighs and a moan escaped before you could suppress it and he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Carlos knocked at your hotel door right on time and you checked yourself over once more before opening it. After seeing how he had reacted to the red Ferrari & I.D Sarrieri lingerie crossover set at the photoshoot, you found an equally racy dress in the same shade of rouge.

“I thought we were going out?” you asked as you saw a tray balanced in his hand.

The look he gave you was truly devilish as he dragged his eyes down your body and back up to your face. “I prefer to eat in.”

He slipped past you and hooked his shoe on the door, kicking it closed. You stared at his back as he walked deeper into your hotel room before he turned and curled a finger, beckoning you to join him in the dining room.

“Shit,” you murmured to yourself as you took a step towards him without meaning to and thought, I’m in trouble.

Carlos placed the covered tray on the table and pulled out a chair before holding his hand out for you. Against your better judgement, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you closer. His arms curled around your back as your hands settled on his shoulders as he smiled triumphantly.

“I finally have you all to myself, hermosa.”

One hand slipped down your back but you couldn’t find the energy to fight his advances as his palm caressed the swell of your ass. You were just trying to figure out how to make your lungs breathe again when his lips stole what little air you had left.

You curled your body against him as his tongue lashed across you lips and they parted on instinct as you wanted more.

“This dress is killing me,” he groaned as his hand travelled further down until he reached the hem and dragged it up over your hips. Cool air kissed your skin that was completely bare beneath the dress. “Looks like you had plans of your own.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips sealed over the racing pulse in your neck. “I didn’t want lines showing on the dress,” you lied, because the fantasy of this moment had crossed your mind. You just hadn’t thought about the possibility of letting it go this far in real life.

You felt his teeth graze your skin as he smiled at the lie and his hands gripped your hips before he lifted you onto the table. “What are you…”

Your words faded out as he dropped into the chair and licked his lips at the sight before him. “Eating in.”

You screwed your eyes shut knowing you were going straight to hell with a Ferrari red A pinned to your dress. You screwed your eyes shut as he kissed your left calf and placed your heel on the arm of his chair before doing the same to the right.

“Cariño,” he murmured between the kisses and bites he trailed up your thighs before he lashed his tongue through your folds. “Hmm, you are so wet for me.”

You reached for his thick, dark hair and combed your fingers through it as you gave into the temptation. You tightened your fingers in the strands and pulled him back to where you needed him most. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to talk with a mouthful?”

“Where are my manners,” he chuckled, his breath scorching on your skin. “Let me make it up to you.”

Your head thumped back on the tabletop as he completely devoured you, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. The chandelier above you was almost as bright as the stars that danced around your vision as the man made a buffet of you. You had never had someone put so much passion into eating your pussy and it showed as your first orgasm quickly built and wracked your body with undulating waves of pleasure that he eagerly lapped at.

“You taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praised as he lazily traced his fingers along your dripping slit and he rose to his feet. Your mind was in a haze and you smiled dumbly as you looked up at Carlos to see his lips glossy with your come.

“You are a filthy man,” you purred as he swiped his thumb over his bottom lip before licking it clean.

“We’re just getting started,” he teased as he reached over to the tray and lifted the lid. “Strawberry?”

You parted your lips as he dipped the sweet fruit in the tub of chocolate sauce but instead of giving you a taste, he drizzled the chocolate over the swell of your breasts. You didn’t care if it ruined the dress because his lips were on your skin, his fingers pulling the material down to bare your breasts before his tongue swirled around them.

“Fuck, Carlos,” you cried as he sucked your nipple to hard peaks. Your body burned for more, your back arching as your hips rolled in search of friction to ease the ache to be filled. “Fuck me, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he reached into his pocket for a condom before unzipping his trousers. You were impatient, squirming on the table as he tore into the foil and rolled the sheath down his hard length. You sat up at the edge of the table and surprised him as you wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him to your entrance as he watched on hungrily.

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he grunted deeply as he inched himself into your tight cunt until your bodies were pressed to each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your nails dug into his back, your teeth buried in his neck and he cried out your name as he snapped his hips forward.

Guilt ate at you as you dressed the next morning. The evidence of what you did was buried under layers of makeup and you swore it couldn’t happen again. Carlos was in a relationship, that should have been enough to stop you.

But he was persistent.

“Stop, someone might see,” you growled as you put your hand on his chest to stop him getting any closer. He had cornered you in a private room of Ferrari’s hospitality while you reapplied concealer to your neck.

“No ones going to come in here,” he chuckled as he easily brushed your hand aside and pulled you against him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good again?”

“No,” you lied, your body betraying you as your nipples hardened in the thin bralette you had been scheduled to model. “Go.”

“Your lips say one thing but your hips say another,” he teased. “One touch, cariña, one touch and if you’re not wet for me then I’ll go. One. Touch. Deal?”

“No…”

“Why not?” he asked knowingly.

“Because…”

“Yes?”

You looked away from his darkening eyes and clenched your thighs together. “Because I want you to but you have a girlfriend, Carlos. This is wrong.”

“Then I’ll break up with her,” he offered, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“What! No,” you gasped, grabbing the device. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the reason, and this was a mistake.”

His hands went back to drawing small circles over your hips and you felt yourself relaxing before you caught yourself and pushed him away. “I’m serious, Carlos, once this promo is finished we aren’t going to see each other again.”

“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” His pout had you sighing in defeat. You had already crossed the line once, did the number of times really matter after that? “I’ll make you another deal, I won’t break up with Rebecca if you have dinner with me again.”

You knew exactly what he meant and exactly what was on the menu but you lied to yourself. “Just dinner,” you clarified as his smirk grew.

“Just dinner.”

Click here for part two.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one smut #formula one imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 10 months ago

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❤ Yandere Actor ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Obsession; Manipulation.

◾ Yandere! Actor who feels like he’s been hit and runned over by a truck when he meets you for the first time at the script reading for his latest movie. The moment he encounters your eyes, gosh, boy is a goner.

Whipped.

In love.

Bamboozled.

Out of his mind.

The way his stomach whirls in a lovely storm should be illegal.

◾ Yandere! Actor that falls for you fast and hard, hardly believing that destiny has landed you on his lap as you are his co-star, the female lead of his rom-com - his romantic interest - both in the movie as in real life.

You’re so cute and precious. Not as smoking hot or pretty as many of his plastic-fake co-stars but he’s drawn to you, like a bee to honey.

◾ Yandere! Actor who is not shy when it comes to showing his heavy interest for you.

A part of you realizes how much of a red flag he is and you just hope he doesn’t turn out to be those superstars that take advantage of younger actresses.

But strangely enough, he appears to be fully content in just listening to you, asking you a million questions about your life and about your interests, hobbies,...

You feel a tinge of awkwardness as he inches closer to you, devotedly drinking up each word that comes out of your glossed lips as if he’s enamored with your voice.

◾ Yandere! Actor who shows up at your trailer for more private script readings or to practice your lines for a particular scene. Lots of ramblings about how pretty you are, how you’re going to be the next Hollywood star and that he can definitely help you out with that.

You smile and accept his compliments, trying your best to be polite even though he makes you uncomfortable.

◾ Yandere! Actor who is incredibly annoying and inconsiderate of other people - that’s what you discover when the shooting process begins.

He completely disregards your feelings and oversteps boundaries, frequently making you extremely uncomfortable when he yells at the staff because your morning coffee was slightly cold or because someone didn’t put your trailer right next to his.

Despite feeling so bad for the low-ranking staff members, you feel grateful enough that you’re not on the receiving end of his anger.

◾ Yandere! Actor that acts like you’re both in a committed relation when the promotions start. During interviews, you’re stunned in the realization that he is very much invested in acting like there is something secret going on between you.

The intimate placement of his hand on your thigh, those intense looks he gives you, the way he incessantly compliments and overates your acting skills. Draping his arm around your shoulder, being a sweetheart to you.

It shouldn’t even be a surprise as fans start to ship you, the two of you becoming the new hot topic of the internet and much to your surprise, your movie is a commercial hit.

All because everyone wants to see your chemistry on the big screen.

◾ Yandere! Actor who one night, during a red carpet, takes the chance to confide to you that he loves you. And right there, in front of all the cameras, he gets down on one knee and pulls the prettiest diamond ring.

Barely even waits for your stumbling answer, before pushing the tight ring down your finger, making you his.

And if you try to deny him, trust me, he can show a side of him that you won’t like.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x you #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #yandere concept #female reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines

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bippiti · 9 months ago

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catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader

after the release of your new album, life has been hectic as you've been running around doing shows. only problem is you seem to have only one person on your mind. little do you know he's having the same issue

an part two! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!

if you want a visual guide for the band .

part one next part

tags @bloodyymaryyy @guiseppetsunoda @maxverstappendefender @charizznorizz

yourig

liked by king, charles_leclerc and 42,836,364 others

yourig thanks for coming out london! nyc see you soon x

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user ughh i wish i couldve come :((

yourig next time lovee💜

user sounded so good

user anyone else gonna talk about the album afterparty???

user who cares bro😭 theyre adults and tbh they would be a power couple

user right?! ive been thinking the same thing, shes not a good influence on him

user im sorry do yk y/n??? how would u know that lmfao

king looking good!

liked by yourig

user where is the fit from???

user i think vivienne westwood!

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you sighed, scrolling through your comments. it had been almost a month after your albums release, and some people still were bringing up the hug with charles. i mean, seriously it was just a hug. it wasn't like you guys had made out or anything.

both your label and ferrari were sponsored by celsius, and your management had met with one of ferraris pr heads. they had agreed to work together to promote the new album, and had picked charles because he was a fan of your music.

you clicked instantly on the first day of set, but it also helped that you spoke fluent french (you had an obsession with indila when you were younger and forced yourself to learn it) the lack of a language barrier, coupled with the fact that you guys had similar interests made it inevitable that you both would become friends.

after the album launch party, you were exhausted. you had woken up at 4am for promo shoots, and had been running around all day before singing your whole album (which was around an hour long) to the attendees. it was fun, and you wouldnt trade your career for the whole world, but man you were tired.

as you were heading out, you spotted charles and you both stopped to talk

"tu as bien fait là-dedans" he said, smiling as he pushed his hands into his pockets (you did good in there)

"merci! les heures de pratique m’ont aidé. je pense que je pourrais oublier les paroles si j’essayais" you smile as he laughed (thanks! the hours of practice helped. i dont think i could forget the lyrics if i tried)

"en pratiquant son art on devient artisan" (practice makes perfect)

you nod, turning as you hear your bandmate siobahn call for you

you look back to him, saying your goodbyes and quickly hugging him before running after her.

that was it. just a friendly hug. it's not like he liked you, and if he knew you liked him, you doubt he would still be friends with you.

charles_leclerc

liked by yourig, pierregasly and 305,387 others

charles_leclerc i won. maybe next time @/pierregasly 😘

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user just realized pierre had a chance to fork the king and the rook in

user not y/n liking this...

user so cute😍

pierregasly i almost had it

charles_leclerc of course you did

user my fav french men

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after having checkmate charles sat back, smiling smugly as he looked at pierre try and fail to make a move. giving up, he raised his hands in defeat.

"quand vais-je jamais te battre?" he said sighing as he chuckled (when will i ever beat you)

"peut-être dans une autre vie" (maybe in another life)

scoffing, pierre changed the subject.

"so i heard you're with some rockstar these days"

"i most definitley am not"

"sure, sure. you might not be dating her but i can tell you like her"

charles paused, having a mini crisis. ok. so maybe he did like you. he couldn't help it, honestly. throughout filming ,and even after he had grown to really admire you. not only just as an artist, but as a person as well. he honestly hoped you'd be able to meet up afterwards, but he hasnt been able to see you since. between his preseason training and your concerts, you both are rarely free, let alone in the same country.

he told all of this to pierre, who listened quietly, nodding along before telling him his masterplan. he was gonna help him out, what kindve friend would he be if he didnt?

hearing the notification sound go off on your phone, you picked it up. your eyebrows raised as you read it

part 3??

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #scudia ferrari #charles leclerc x yn #f1 x reader #f1 smau #charles leclerc smau #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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ikeoji-subs · 5 months ago

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Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 1 Eng Sub

VS PHYSICAL CONTACT and VS HALLOWEEN

For downloading instructions and where to find the raw files please check our masterpost

Subs link

We ask that you not upload our subs to streaming sites.

Sharing with friends is fine. We’re also OK with folks sharing them in other ways as long as they aren’t public. Please use discretion when talking about the fansub outside of tumblr, but don’t hesitate to get the word out in other ways, and feel free to promote it here. Please credit ikeoji-subs whenever possible--we put a lot of time and effort into this.

Feel free to use the fansub for fandom purposes. Gif-making, meta-writing, and other fandom-related creative endeavors made using our fansub are not only welcome but encouraged.

translation notes:

about Mob’s eyebeams (3:47)

Maybe I just think I see tokusatsu references everywhere, but I think there’s an Easter egg of sorts in episode 1. After Mob comes back to himself and celebrates having escaped L’ing a B, he runs through a field beside the airport and some sort of laser beams shoot out of his eyes. The beams are two different colors: red and blue. I suspect this is a reference to Kamen Rider Build, in which Inukai Atsuhiro played the lead rider (also called Kamen Rider Build). Build had a number of forms (different suits, basically) that had different colors and features. The one he’s best known for (the one that comes up at the top of your results if you google “Kamen Rider Build,” among other things) is his “RabbitTank” form, which is half blue and half red, with one blue eye and one red one.

Kamen Rider Build in RabbitTank form

It’s particularly appropriate for them to reference Build in this show since Inukai’s character on that show, Kiryu Sento, had a pretty ship-y relationship with Banjou Ryuga, a character played by Akaso Eiji from Cherry Magic. At the time, the phrase “a heated relationship between men” was used to describe how they related to each other, and Kamen Rider fans have referenced it ever since when things between two Kamen Rider dudes seem “heated.” The fact that both actors went on to be BL legends is very fitting. And it makes this reference even more appropriate for Zettai BL.–Towel

Inukai Atsuhiro and Akaso Eiji as Kiryu Sento and Banjou Ryuga, toku boyfriends

about “pretending to be possessive” (07:08)

Mob actually says that Ayato is pretending to have a “brother complex,” sometimes abbreviated (as Mob does here) as “brocon.” While this concept is somewhat Western due to its roots in psychoanalysis, it has a specific meaning in Japanese culture that you don't find elsewhere. It describes an obsessive attachment to one’s brother that may include possessiveness and jealousy toward the brother’s romantic partners. Brother complexes are classically associated with sisters, but it’s no surprise that a brother might be expected to have a brother complex in BL World.

To be clear, though, Mob doesn’t believe that Ayato actually has a brother complex. He thinks he’s pretending to have one so that he’ll have an excuse to act out his actual possessive feelings about Toujou, brought on by Toujou touching Mob.

Instead of assuming all viewers would be familiar with the idea of the “brother complex,” we decided to describe what Mob is saying in terms of Ayato’s pretending to be possessive. But knowing the specific reference Mob was making here should help to get a more nuanced sense of the meaning of this line.–Towel

It's also relevant to say that in spoken Japanese almost anything can become a "con". Such as brocon, siscon, lolicon, etc.–Snow

about “fair prince” (6:18)

Snow explained to me that Toujou was described here using a word that's associated with classical and poetic Japanese. Historically, it was used to refer to lords and ladies, and it's particularly common in classical Japanese literature. In modern media, it's often used in period dramas and may be used in contemporary settings to describe the person being referred to as admirable in some way. Since it has multiple meanings with specific connotations and various points of reference in Japanese culture, there was no direct equivalent of this in English. Translating it literally word-for-word wouldn't get the point across at all.

I tried to think about what an equivalent type of literature would be in an English-speaking context and what sorts of words or phrases would bring those things to mind. I tried to see if I could get one or two Early Modern English words in there (the kind of English Shakespeare spoke). I also looked for a link to Toujou’s rose motif by checking some famous rose-related quotes from older literary periods. But neither of those methods yielded anything that fit.

Then I started to think about fairy tales, which gave me the idea of calling him a “prince.” I added “fair,” not for any reason related to his coloring (though it’s somewhat appropriate given his blondness) but because it made the description sound a lot more antiquated and fairy tale-ish. Later in the episode, when a similar description was applied to Toujou in his vampire costume, it made perfect sense to make him a “dark prince” instead.–Towel

Tag list: @c1nto @my-rose-tinted-glasses @twig-tea @sorry-bonebag @porridgefeast @bengiyo @lurkingshan @wen-kexing-apologist

#zettai bl #zettai bl 3 #zettai bl 2024 #zettai bl ni naru sekai vs zettai bl ni naritakunai otoko #a man who defies the world of bl #kamen rider build

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allaboutnayeli · 6 months ago

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Could you do some ashley sanchez fluff please

craving your warmth | a.sanchez x reader

prompt: ashley just really loves your hands.

author notes: here is a fic for one of my fave white girlies 💗 i was supposed to have been wrote smt for this request but i get so sidetracked so mb gang. hopefully this is to your tastes tho!

contains: ncc!ashley sanchez x goalkeeper!reader, pure fluff like sickening type fluff, implied masc reader but nothing crazy

the sun is starting to come through the blinds as it rises. it's early, way too early for ashley to be awake but her body disagrees with her so here she is; awake on a saturday morning at six am. there is an upside to this annoying situation through. ashley can admire you sleeping so peacefully.

usually when you feel her eyes on you, it's not long until you get all shy and tell her to look away. most of the time instead of looking away, the blonde kisses you to distract but now with you in deep sleep, she can happily stare.

she shifts closer so that her hand can trace over your features. first, pushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over your face. she's close enough that she can smell your shampoo. the smell can't exactly be described but all ashley can call it is soft. very soft. then she moves on to your eyebrows then your eyes then your nose. finally her hand lands on your lips. again all ashley can describe them as is soft.

they're soft to touch and even softer to kiss. she really loves your lips. if someone asked her what is her favorite feature of yours it would have been your lips one hundred percent.

would have.

however, lately she's been falling in love with a different feature of yours. one that's not even on your face; your hands. it wasn't until recently that the blonde really started to pay attention to your hands. of course it wasn't like she just didn't notice them before, but she was too focused on your lips and gorgeous eyes and soft hair so yeah your hands weren't her main obsession.

your hands are slightly rough. mostly from wearing your goalkeeper gloves for hours each week and your workout regimen. they're bigger than ashley's as well. big enough that you can hold her wrists in one hand effortlessly. and with how warm your body is all the time, your hands are like her personal gloves.

ashley moves her hand down to where yours are on the pillow. you're resting your face against it, making your cheek squished in such a cute way it makes ashley smile. she starts to trace over your fingers. avoiding your face to not disturb you, but apparently that wasn't good enough as you start to shift and grumble in your sleep. probably due to how her light touches feel sorta ticklish.

"babe..?" you mumble out. your eyes are still closed, but you move your hand to hold onto hers.

"yeah?" the soccer player accepts your embrace easily. letting out a soft hum of content.

you don't reply to her for a few minutes. obviously slowly dozing right back off. you two didn't have anything planned for today. no practice or games or promotional shoots to get to, so today is a completely free day. a day just for you and ashley to laze around.

finally you speak, saying, "let's sleep in?"

the way your sleepy voice sounds almost makes ashley's heart burst. it's raspier then your voice usually is and a little whiny. a perfect mix.

"mhm, let's sleep in," she agrees. when she confirms what you already knew she would say yes to, you move to pull her close (well, closer) by her waist. your hand covering a good amount of the skin there. as you pull her into your arms, ashley feels grounded like how she always does when she's in your arms.

you pull her right into your chest. basically laying half of your body over her. ashley is definitely going to tease you about this later even though she enjoys the weight in reality.

the blonde whispers out a sleep well, feeling herself already getting sleepy. however you were already asleep again. way more tired than she was.

ashley absolutely hates being injured. it wasn't anything major, just a sprained ankle, but still she couldn't play or even train yet. all the blonde can do is sit on the sidelines at practice with a pout on her lips. one that you found really adorable, but at the same time made your heart break. knowing how badly ashley wanted to get out on the field.

the good thing about being essentially a bench warmer at practice was that she could check you out freely. if one of your other teammates pointed it out, ashley would just yell at them to focus on their exercises instead of what her eyes are looking at.

you obviously noticed how the blonde has been staring at you every single day she's been out and sitting in the empty stands at practice. maybe you have been going a little harder in training just to impress her. it wasn't like she didn't enjoy it. instead she awarded your efforts with that dazzling smile of hers and many, many kisses once you two got to the car.

she loved when you ran suicides. how good your calves and thighs look as you run could be plastered across a build board somewhere in ashley's opinion. when you save a goal and have that smug smile on your face afterwards will always do something to her. however, her favorite part of everything is after you save a goal and proceed to throw the ball back to whatever striker you were practicing with.

the way you always smile before doing that, the pure force you put behind the throw. ashley knows from personal experience strength is behind those hands and arms of yours.

she can't take her eyes off of you when you throw the ball back, she just can't. seeing the way your hand grips onto the ball reminds her of how you hold onto her. she's so focused on you that she doesn't realize that a soccer ball is flying at her.

"look around instead of checking out your girlfriend!" feli shouts, laughing loudly once ashley throws the ball back. obviously the german dodges it. sticking her tongue out after grabbing the ball and starting to move away to get back to practice.

the commotion is able to grab your attention. a teasing smile sits on your lips as you walk over to where ashley is sitting. she lets out a soft groan at seeing your approaching figure. already knowing what you are about to say.

"so you were checking me out, huh?"

most people wouldn't think that ashley's love language is physical touch. she seems like someone who would enjoy acts of services or affirmations, which she does, but not as much as she enjoys physical touch. in her last relationship, she didn't care for it much but that changed with you.

you didn't exactly push her into it but with how affectionate you are, naturally she started to crave it.

ashley's favorite type of affectionate lately is hand holding. no surprise to you with how fixated she is on that part of your body currently. you caught her on enough occasions looking at your hands to get an idea of how much she likes them.

right now, she's pulling you along as you two walk around in sephora. ashley is trying to convince you to let her do your makeup and you aren't as keen on that as she is.

"babe, everyone does it at least once. i seen it all over tiktok," she half reasons, half whines as you two stop infront of the lipsticks.

"that's cute, really, but babe.. i just don't think it's for me," you argue back. barely as you see how her eyes light up seeing the different shades of lipstick sitting on the shelves. okay, maybe you can try it just this once.

when ashley starts one of her rambles about how you would look adorable in makeup, you let go of her hand to look more closely at the different lipsticks. while you are busy looking at what shade you want, ashley slowly realizing she doesn't have the warmth of your hand on hers.

she blinks and realizes that wait, you aren't holding her hand.

"babeee," the blonde frowns at you. holding her hand out at you. a giggle leaves you as you turn to see her hand just out, waiting for yours. the urge in you to tease her is strong but instead you stand. interlocking your hand with hers.

"happy now?" you say playfully. pecking her forehead. the blonde accepts your affection happily, pulling you closer so that you two can look at the lipsticks together.

she picks up a pink lipstick before smiling at you, "ecstatic."

author notes: and finally i have a request done, yippie for me. this is really cute like im about to throw up but i love it 🩷

#ashley sanchez x reader #ashley sanchez #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso fluff #woso fanfics

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kaiijo · 1 year ago

Text

ALL WRAPPED UP — PORTGAS D. ACE

pairing: portgas d. ace x gn! reader content: canon-typical depictions of injury and blood notes: after months of obsession, finally a one piece post

Your eyes drift to the open ocean again, watching the horizon with a hawk-like awareness. You shouldn’t be this distracted, not when you need to be formulating a strategy to propose to Whitebeard and the rest of the Division Commanders.

“You know he’s going to be fine,” Marco reminds you for what feels like the millionth time, giving you that same, knowing look.

You nod back. “Yeah, I do,” you reply but you can hear the tightness in your tone and the voice in your head reminds you that he’s been gone three days longer than expected.

You know that Ace is one of the strongest members of the crew; it’s the reason Whitebeard promoted him so quickly to Division Commander, the reason your captain sends him on solo missions often. It certainly doesn’t hurt that he has the power of the Flame-Flame fruit, but even the strongest of pirates have been beaten — Gol D. Roger being a perfect example.

You see a dot in the distance, which grows bigger as it draws closer. You hope it’s Ace but you put your crewmates on alert, just in case. To your utter relief, you recognize the yellow of Ace’s Striker but the relief is short-lived as he comes into focus. He’s gripping the boat’s mast, cuts and dark bruises marring his tanned skin. You don’t think twice as you jump off the side of the Moby Dick, landing steadily on the bow of the Striker.

Ace shoots you a signature lopsided smile, though it’s a bit pinched. “Don’t think you asked permission to board.”

You sigh and roll your fondly, trying to quell your racing heart as you slip an arm around his shoulders. His own arm drapes across your shoulders as the crew hoists the two of you up. With a cursory glance over him, Marco says, “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

Ace untangles himself from you as soon as his feet land on the deck. “I’m fine, Doc,” he says. The way he stumbles a little as he tries to right himself and the blood slowly dripping from the deepest laceration at his shoulder doesn’t help his case.

Marco levels him with a stern look and a firm grasp on his uninjured shoulder, both of which make Ace sigh in acquiescence and follow Marco down into the ship. You chew on your lip, about to follow, but Thatch says, “Let Marco work. We’ve got a Division meeting. Check on Ace after.”

You glance one more time at the way the two men left before following Thatch to the captain’s quarters.

You’re hurrying down the steps towards the infirmary as soon as the meeting ends. You’re not even really sure what you all discussed. You can only assume it’s something about swords and cannons and the Marines, and you’ll get Thatch or Izou to catch you up on it later but you have more pressing concerns right now.

You nearly collide with Marco in your rush. “Sorry,” you say breathlessly. “How is he?”

Marco peers down at you through his glasses, half-amused, and answers, “Good. He’s been whining about not seeing you and it’s my duty to keep patients happy. So…” He slides over and you open the door.

Ace is wrapped in gauze and bandages, reclined grumpily in one of the infirmary beds. His face lights up when he sees you and he tries to sit up, wincing when he does. “Don’t get up,” you say, pulling the chair that is next to his bed closer to it. You adjust the pillow and unconsciously reach up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. They follow your motion and when you realize that he’s now staring at your face, you quickly drop your hand.

There are so many questions racing through your head but the first, and most logical, one is: “What happened?”

Ace groans and huffs, “Got ambushed. Thought I was finished collecting intel and let my guard down a little too early.” When he sees you studying the dressing Marco wrapped around him, he nudges you with his elbow. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

It makes you laugh a little and in turn, Ace’s smile grows wider. “You know,” he says, leaning close. You hold your breath as he puts his face only an inch or two away from yours. “I’ve always heard that a kiss makes everything hurt less.”

He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, a mischievous glint shining in his dark eyes. You gulp down the knot that has formed in your stomach and your cheeks are on fire. He smells like sea salt and the open sky. You can count every freckle that dots his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Ace’s smile falters when you don’t answer and he jerks back, stumbling over his words. “It’s no pressure or anything! It’s just something I’ve—”

Plucking up all your courage, you shift forward and move quickly so you don’t lose your nerve. Gently, you let your lips brush against the worst of his injuries: the cut in his right shoulder. You draw away swiftly and when you survey his face, you push down the pleasant warmth in your belly at the way his face goes red.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes #one piece x reader #op x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #one piece fic #one piece imagines #one piece ace #one piece

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writing-zelda-brainrots · 5 months ago

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Have some more apothecary![Name] because I have Apothecary Diaries brainrot. Season 2 hype! I swear to fucking god, at some point I'm going to turn this into an actual fic. Please, someone shoot me, I just don't know how to stop.

I imagine that similar to in the Apothecary Diaries, [Name] has lived in the red light district their whole life and was working as an apothecary there. Until they got kidnapped and sold off to the rear palace as a simple servant. They were planning on just working there until their contract expired, but then the universe decided that they haven't suffered enough. Through some shenanigans, they end up being promoted from glorified laundry maid to the lady in waiting for one of the Emperor's concubines.

And that's when the Chain fell into their life. Literally.

During a trip home on one of your rare days off, a girl from one of the pleasure district's brothels comes running to you in a panic, saying something about a group of strange men that need medical attention.

And things kinda spiral from then. You cure one of them from poison (you think his name was Wars? Strange name, really. But, still, none of your business), hand them some medicine and are about to head out until you get roped into solving the 'mystery' behind this little incident. The universe just loves telling you to play detective.

And when you led them out of town and see them off, you somehow end up getting pulled into one of these 'portals' that they kept talking about when they thought you couldn't hear.

The Chain is kind of more trusting of you in the beginning, you did save Wars from almost dying after all, but your stand-offish personality and obsession with drugs is a little worrying. Still, you do your work, don't complain, don't cause fights and lend a hand when needed. And your medicines do wonders when potions run out and Hyrule's low on magic. You're passive in a way.

"I'm a simple servant, lowly of birth." You say when questioned. "I know where I stand."

Bruh you're going to give them trauma flashbacks every time you put something in your mouth. Especially if you're the only human and they have no idea what things are poisonous to you vs them. They always have some emetic agent on them in case you decide to indulge in your 'hobby.'

I could really twist the knife with how the romance would go in this. The Chain knows that you're not the most extroverted person, but they wish that you didn't scoot away from them when they want to get closer to you. Maybe it's because you've grown up in an environment where the lines between 'love' and 'lust' are more than a little blurred - both celebrated and made irrelevant, both idolised and abused at the same time - where the lives of lower class people are tossed aside without a thought, the way your family life hasn't exactly been the most 'normal'... Maybe that's why you're so adverse to romance, why you insist that 'love' is an emotion that you are incapable of feeling.

In a way, they want to save you. Not from Ganon or monsters with sharp teeth (though they will save you from those, too, of course), but from this shadow looming over you.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader incorrect quotes #lu x reader #linked universe imagines #lu imagines #the apothecary's travel guide #ta'stg

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perseruna · 7 months ago

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heyyyy do you have any details/sources for the ca*ill being a jackass thing? ngl i watch twn for yen and jaskier so i was already planning on continuing to season 4 but i'd love some reasons to be actively excited for the actor switch. but i haven't kept up on the behind-the-scenes stuff so i'm kinda lost on that front if you're up for sharing any of what you know!

okay guys buckle up this is THE anti henry cavill megathread xoxo

First of all him dating a teenager as a 33 year old fully grown man literally gross and disgusting.

Also as this quote implies they started dating a year prior and only went public when she was 19 so they supposedly started dating when she was 18.

His entire dating history is a MESS. Sure the women he dated are not him, but he chose to date them, I wouldn't even associate myself with people like these let alone be in a relationship with them. He dated the infamous transphobic TERF Gina Carano, albeit before her loud controversy, but I doubt her harmful views were any different back then. His current gf has a history of doing black face.

His "Me Too" comments.

His comments on the Me Too movement are literally so vile. If you don’t want to be called a rapist, just don’t rape women, it’s literally as simple as that. They’re even more foul because they’re promoting the idea that women lie about their abusive for fame, promoting that harmful rhetoric especially in our times is incredibly dangerous.

Now onto his on set behavior.

We can't talk about his set behavior without mentioning the deuxmoi set leak. Here's the transcript of it:

[Transcript:

There’s something I really really wanted to read to you guys--it has to do with why Henry Cavill left The Witcher. I know that was something that you guys were super interested in when it happened, and I just recently got this message. Somebody was like “Hey, do you want to know what really went down?” And I was like “Sure!” So let me just read it. It says:

“At the beginning of the show, Henry was good to work with. A lot of difficult demands that made people feel like he wasn’t a team player, but that’s not unusual for a really big star. Though in TV it truly usually doesn’t happen until the second season. But in season two and three something shifted and he became really impossible for women to work with, which is always a big problem, but even worse here because the showrunner is a woman. He would try to overrule her and try to get changes made last minute across the board without her knowledge, which, if you know anything about showrunning, is completely fucked. The showrunner has to sign off on every miniscule detail down to the buttons on a costume. Female writers and directors were suddenly being completely ignored on set, unable to do their jobs. Every department head was complaining. He started making comments—it wasn’t a sexual thing, he wasn’t grabbing anyone or being lewd, but it was disrespectful and toxic all the same.

“He is deeply addicted to video games, to the point where it was like working with any other addict. He was distracted, he was late, he was obsessive, and a lot of people think the misogyny came from gamer world. Video game bro language is not how you talk to coworkers, and he wouldn’t stop. Someone on the show compared it to watching someone get brainwashed by QAnon, like his whole personality shifted. Eventually his disrespect escalated. He would rewrite scenes without even alerting the other actors in the scenes until it was time to shoot. He decided that he didn’t want any romantic scenes at all—no kissing scenes, no shirtless scenes, et cetera. He wanted complete control of storylines but really had no idea of the limitations of TV, structure, budget, et cetera. He formed a weird alliance with one writer who was also a gamer, who eventually got fired after multiple HR complaints were made and after that writer left, Henry did anything he could to hold up production and cause problems.

“Eventually top brass at Netflix was tired of him costing them money with delays and HR investigations and the showrunner was asked to construct a potential exit for him. Netflix reached out to him personally and he was given one final warning, and violated that warning with an email he sent to the entire writing staff right after that meeting. That was it. It’s very disappointing.”

End transcript.]

Now believe me or not, but I know from a really good source that the leak was indeed real.

There's a lot of patterned behavior that tracks with what we know of him and his past controversies.

After that leak came out, there was a lot of people from different places coming to comment that ‘yes’ they’ve heard a very similar story adding a little bit more details of their own.

this quickly deleted tweet from one of the writers/producers:

there were rumors about him being an asshole to Anya specifically.

He went on record that he doesn't "understand" sex scenes. Which I know the sex discourse is rampant nowadays and each to their own, but he specifically signed up for a role that requires those scenes and then refused to do them and was allegedly nasty to Anya about it and with the way he talks about women...

Also it’s important to touch upon the “writer he had a weird alliance with” that man in question is Beau DeMayo of the recent fame of getting fired by Marvel from X-Men ‘97. He was previously allegedly fired from The Witcher for being emotionally and physically abusive. And he allegedly got fired from X-Men for being abusive as well. One of The Witcher writers tweeted this after Beau smeared them for “disliking the books” Beau was literally the first person to start that narrative.

The fact that it was HIS idea not to say lines of his dialogue in S1 and instead grunt. To the point that Joey had to take Henry’s lines and make it his own, so the plot would make sense, he talks about it in this interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=Oyh0t117t0U&, and then once S2 press arrived Henry was talking about how he was trying to fight the big bad writers to give him more lines. Ridiculous.

Everyone is already pointing out that the cast looks so much happier without him, and it’s very true. Henry was never present on close to any BTS pics from filming the previous seasons, or on any cast dinners or birthdays. He wouldn't even do any shared interviews with the other three mains but only had solo interviews which to me was giving disrespectful like you're an ensemble you’re not the only lead here. It felt like he was above them to sit down and answer questions with them. When they were doing press junkets in Brazil and Poland Anya, Joey and Freya would always arrive together and leave together with that man leaving all the events early and by himself. And like people who post quotes from the cast about him being perfect from press junkets as “proof” are insane to me like Obviously they’re going to say nice things about him, not only they're newcomers, and he's an established industry name, but they’re doing PRESS for a show that he’s a STAR of (well, was lmao)

The fact that he never defended Anya from the racist trolls, even though most of them were HIS fans. Like she had to go through so much and that man couldn’t make a single comment about it as a leading man BUT he could make a whole IG post because people were being mean to his gf and calling her out for doing blackface.

And sure people might say that a lot of these are unverified sources, and I’d get it if it was a singular case, but there are a ton of these accounts that all match each other. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

#anti henry cavill #the witcher #mega thread

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crownofgildedlilies · 8 months ago

Text

feelin' like an absolute fool about it -> cool about it [1]

in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.

pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader

warnings: angst, angst, and angst. oh and cursing.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this is a four part fic and im so obsessed with this idea. Jason Grace the man that you are. oh and this follows a nonlinear plot so be warned. lmk if you want to be added to a taglist or wtv!

[one] two three four

"If I have to sit through one more meeting with you making kiss me eyes at the praetor, I'm going to run myself through with my own lance."

"Good morning to you, too, Dakota." You grunted, half amused, half still pissy from the horror show that had been your previous night. "I slept like shit, thanks for asking."

"You're welcome," He didn't miss a beat, pouring more kool-aid than was probably healthy into his cup to drink with breakfast. "Now, man up."

"Real inspiring."

Dakota leveled you with a flat look, and you fought the urge to roll your own eyes. But you knew he would twist the action into your admitting defeat in your impromptu staring contest.

And you were nothing if not a sore loser.

"Admit you want to date the praetor." Dakota demanded, trying to push the conversation along.

On instinct, your gaze darted throughout the dining pavilion, looking for a certain head of blond hair that had yet to make an appearance that morning. And it was then that you knew Dakota meant business, because he didn’t call you out for looking away first.

"Reyna's pretty. Not my type, though." You deflected, stabbing a fork into your breakfast with what was probably more force than necessary. Dakota's eyes widened at the action, briefly, before narrowing at you in suspicion.

"Moving past that comment," He waved his hand in front of him, as if to physically move the conversation along. "Does your current attitude have anything to do with last night's freak thunderstorm?"

Maybe, you would have said, if your mouth didn't suddenly taste so bitter. Still, you winced, and you knew that was enough of an answer for him.

"Oh, come on!" Dakota groaned, pausing only to sip greedily on his kool-aid. You looked on in near amusement, cheek propped up on your fist, waiting for his dramatics to pass. "I finally get my speech all prepared to get you to confess your unending love to Praetor Grace, and you two get in an argument the night before?"

"Pity," You replied dryly, hoping the way you exaggeratedly poked out your bottom lip and knitted your brows together masked the ache in your chest.

"Centurion," Dakota whined, and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky to be promoted to lead the Fifth Cohort alongside him. "What happened?"

Your eyes flashed, shooting him a glare that made him snap his mouth shut.

"Oh-kay." He whistled, sipping his kool-aid some more. Seriously, you needed to figure out how to trick the poor guy into drinking water. "My point still stands. One argument does not change the fact that you guys are in love with each other."

You scoffed, shoveling pancakes in your mouth to avoid answering, head ducked.

Dakota slammed his open palms down on the top of the table so forcefully, almost every head in the pavilion snapped towards him.

"So you admit it!" He accused, grinning wickedly and showing off the red-stained mustache his drink of choice left. You grimaced, swallowing your breakfast to avoid choking. "You do love him!"

"Keep your voice down or I will shove Octavian's entire teddy bear collection down your—"

"Okay!" Dakota interrupted, grinning proudly, as if he hadn't just been threatened. "No need for violence. I was right."

"So is a broken clock twice a day. You're not special." You rolled your eyes, settling stiffly back into your seat. Risking another glance around the mess hall, you still found no sight of the world's most irritating, kind-hearted, moron of a praetor.

Also known as Jason Grace, your best friend.

And as Dakota had just so eloquently uncovered, the guy you've been in love with for years without ever uttering a word about it to him.

"Put me out of my misery, please, and just go talk to the guy, will you?" He begged, like he truly was the one suffering. You glared at him again, but you knew it wasn't fair.

Dakota hadn't been there last night, when you had tried telling Jason how you felt. But the boy was as emotionally oblivious as he was pretty, which was saying a lot.

"Wait," Dakota wiped at his mouth, but the kool-aid stains remained behind. "Did you already—?"

"Centurions," Harper from the Second Cohort appeared at your side, slightly out of breath and eyes wide. You had only ever really spoken to her during Senate meetings, but you were friendly enough.

So you were more than a little confused when she looked at you and took a step back, like she was afraid.

"Everything alright, Harper?" You asked, turning slightly in your seat, mind already running through a million different scenarios of horrible things that could have happened and dragged such a reaction out of Harper.

You had seen the girl take on four sons of Mars before. She wasn't exactly afraid of much.

"He's gone," The words tumbled past her lips before she winced, taking a second step away from you. Face twisted in confusion, you tried to make sense of the vague explanation. "Jason, I mean. He's just—"

Gone.

You were out of your seat before she could finish talking, breakfast long forgotten. The few bites you had managed to swallow felt like lead in the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and making you feel like you were barely moving, even as you raced so fast through camp that even the Lares barely had time to get out of your way.

There was no way Harper was right. Jason couldn't just be—be gone. He was everything a Roman aspired to be; strong, resilient, dedicated.

And maybe you had gotten into an argument, but Broken Clock Dakota was right for the second time that day. One argument didn't mean you stopped loving him.

You have never been so thankful that your father was the god of travelers as your feet pounded on the dirt roads. Sprinting towards the bunk houses, you utilized every ounce of Mercury-blessed speed. Jason had to be there. Or maybe he had snuck off to New Rome to buy you apology flowers, like he had the one time he missed your birthday—you had forgive him easily, as he had been off on a quest he nearly died during.

Heart in your throat, you skidded to a halt outside the small, private bedrooms given to the praetors. You had always teased Jason that his looked like a prison cell, considering his only decorations were books on war strategies used throughout centuries.

But then he had taped up that one gods-awful photo of you and him, both squinting against the sun shining in your faces, and it hadn't seemed so desolate.

"Jason!" You shouted with relief, voice choked up, because the door to his room was open. He never kept his door open, unless you were inside, because he claimed it stopped the other campers from making assumptions about what the two of you were getting up to in his bedroom, alone.

And then you would ask him to explain what he meant by that, trying to hide your grin for as long as you could while he stammered over his words with a blush.

"Jase, they're saying—" You pushed open the door to his room further, voice almost shuddering, and stopped cold when you saw the room's only occupant.

Because it wasn't your blond haired love leaning over the small desk in the corner of the room.

"He didn't show up to our praetor meeting this morning." Reyna's voice was flat, giving you only the facts. You were glad, because if she had spoken with pity, you were certain you would have thrown up.

Jason would be nice about it, but you didn't want to vomit on his carpet.

"That's not like him," You stated dumbly, fingertips vibrating with anxious nerves. Reyna shook her head, and it was then that you realized she had been sifting through the stacks of papers on his desk.

It felt like an intrusion of his privacy, even if it was a necessary precaution. There might have been clues to his whereabouts in those papers. Instead, you were certain they were only his to-do lists, scribbled in his neat handwriting you so adored.

And when she spoke next, you wish you could have plugged your ears and ignored her.

"Centurion, Jason Grace is missing."

Six months, one week, four days, nine hours.

And thirty-six minutes.

Jason had been gone for six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-six minutes.

In total, you had slept probably a total of nineteen consecutive hours. Octavian had tried calling for your removal from role of Centurion five times. Reyna had offered you the open position of Praetor twice, behind closed doors.

"It's not available," You had snapped. Fear and exhaustion had turned you bitter. "Jason's coming back."

Six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

"You know," Dakota's voice was slightly slurred, already gone on the kool-aid on such a bright summer afternoon. He had found you on the steps of the forum, searching through dozens of letters from retired legionnaires all claiming to not have heard any word about Jason but would keep scouting, and suggested you join him for a walk. "I bet he's out there, fighting for his life to get back here to you."

You shot a glare at Dakota, but kept your mouth shut. Lately, he was the only one of your old friends that could stomach being around you. No one else wanted to subject themselves to your attitude. You were glad to have a friend, even if you didn't act like it.

But you wished Dakota wouldn't talk about Jason fighting for his life.

"Brenda said I could take another eagle out searching today," Your voice had a rasp to it. Rarely used, but never rested. For the first three weeks following Jason's disappearance, you spent each night crying in your bunk, murmuring desperate pleas that your golden boy be returned to you.

And maybe he had never truly been your Jason, but it had felt pretty close.

Finally, Reyna had slipped a key into your palm, disguised as a handshake. The silver key, the one that unlocked Jason's empty praetor room, currently sat on a chain around your neck.

You slept there, now.

No one mentioned your nightly disappearance. You figured everyone was just thankful they didn't have to hear your crying anymore.

"Are you sure you should be flying?" Dakota looked you over with unease, the Little Tiber coming into view on the horizon. You were certain you looked a mess, but what did it matter? You only cared about what Jason thought of you, and Jason never cared about what you wore.

Still, the dark bags of exhaustion under your eyes probably were cause for concern.

"Says you," You countered dismissively, waving a hand towards the flask of kool-aid attached to his belt.

"That's not what I mean," He huffed, defensive. "When's the last time you slept—"

The shouting from the Little Tiber interrupted your conversation. You squinted in the direction of the sound, both surprised and startled to find two massive fists of water raised in the air, a gorgon in each.

At the bank was Hazel Levesque, submerged up to his knees was Frank Zhang, and... controlling the water-fists was a boy you had never seen before.

Without warning Dakota, you took off in a sprint towards the edge of the Little Tiber. You reached the bank just as Frank shot two incredibly well placed arrows at each of the gorgons, turning them to dust and swallowing them downstream.

"Centurion!" Hazel gasped, spotting you approach. Dakota was slowly closing in, muttering curses about children of Mercury and their swiftness. "We found him by the front gates. He was carrying, well, a goddess, so we figured we should let him in."

By the time Hazel finished rambling, both the new boy and Frank had made it ashore. Frank, with his probatio tablet swinging around his neck avoided meeting your eye.

Most people did, lately.

But the newcomer met your stare head on, confidently, if not a little confused. Pursing your lips, something about him set off alarms in your mind.

"What's your name?" You asked, still frowning. You hated being so angry all the time. You missed smiling. You missed your reason for smiling, too, but you had other things to worry about, somehow.

Like the son of Neptune who showed up on your front door.

The boy shifted on his feet, a bronze sword clenched in his tired hands. He looked far worse than you had realized at first, and his voice was exhausted when he answered you.

"Percy Jackson."

"Jason Grace!"

"Careful," He grinned, pointing his sword lazily at you. Your laughter echoed throughout the room, setting the world around the two you singing. "People might think your form is getting sloppy."

"Then they'll think you're a shitty coach," You teased, twirling your own sword as you danced throughout the room, always light on your feet. Jason chuckled, and if you could have bottled up the sound to keep forever, you would have in a heartbeat.

Your favorite moments were when it was just you and Jason, in the training center alone. With curfew fast approaching, everyone else was taking advantage of the two short, sweet free hours before lights out.

"Water break," Jason ordered, flipping his sword gracefully back into the golden coin he always kept in his pocket. You obliged him, slipping wordlessly over to your water bottle on the edge of the mat. "I was serious, earlier. You're dropping your elbows."

"And you're more stiff than a flagpole," You countered, raising a pointed brow at him. Jason gave you a look that screamed 'I don't think so', which was practically an invitation for you to mess with him. "Seriously, Jase, you gotta loosen up."

"I'm loose." He argued, and you let out another loud laugh, the kind that had your head tipping back with the force of your joy. Crossing the room to stand before him, you lifted your chin so that you had a chance at meeting his eye.

I'm loose, he claimed. The thought made you snort, again, as you took in his rigid posture, how even just standing, his arms were crossed over his broad chest.

"Jase," You crooned innocently, settling your left hand on his shoulder, fingers smoothing over the muscle. His reaction was instant, to your excitement. Flush coating his cheeks, his eyes tracking the movement of your hand against him.

Just as you had hoped.

"Baby," You taunted, and he actually choked, burning a bright red as you stepped closer to him, smirk on your lips. "If you're going to talk shit about my elbows, you better get ready to fight back."

Grinning wickedly, you held up the magical golden coin you had lifted from Jason's pocket while he was distracted.

"Give me that," He huffed, eyes rolling and catching your wrist before you could get away. Your laughter fell from you in echoing shrieks, trying to escape Jason as he tried to snatch the coin back.

You stuck out your arm in the opposite direction, trying to hold out as long as you could against him. How rare it was you ever were able to outsmart the great Jason Grace.

He simply pulled you closer, his longer arms stretching out over your body to try and get his coin back. Knees knocking together, your laughters mixed in the air.

By the time his fingers finally wrapped around the golden coin, you could barely breathe. Smiles spread wide over both your faces, you grinned up at him, cheeks albeit a bit flushed.

His arm was wrapped around your middle, holding you flush against his front. And even as he stuffed his coin back into his pocket, he kept his arm wrapped around you tightly.

You weren't going to complain, either, your own hands settling on the tops of his shoulders, toying with the collar of his purple camp shirt.

Gods, you were so in love with him, you felt it in your bones. How was it fair that the powers that be put him in your life, just out of arms reach? And how could Venus despise you so much that she would give you Jason Grace, let him hold you and smile at you, and not have him fall in love with you, too?

He was blinding, golden sunlight, and you just needed to be caught in his rays, however briefly.

"Why do you train so much?" You weren't exactly sure where the question came from, but you were certain it was an important one as you studied the emotions swirling in his sky blue eyes. Confusion, mostly, but also a hint of something so similar to admiration it made your skin feel flushed.

"We're soldiers." He reasoned, ever the level-headed Roman. And you loved him for it, really, but you loved him more than the Roman traits.

"Do we have to be, all the time?" You hated how desperate your voice sounded, and you hated Jason for making you ask.

"What else is there for us?" His counter argument was like he hit the panic button in your mind. And maybe if you had more time to think about how to best react, you would have slowed down and talked him through a life beyond the military prowess he had been practically conditioned to think was the only life for him.

But you didn't have time, and you could barely think, so all you did was pull away from his hold.

"Forget it." You mumbled, not entirely sure if you intended for him to hear. It wasn't his fault, you distantly reasoned, he didn't know any better. Raised by wolves then sent to Camp Jupiter? He had no chance at seeing any sort of life beyond battlefield glory.

But you weren't the daughter of reason. Your father was the god of thieves, and your emotions stole the moment from your fingertips.

"Hold on," Jason urged, taking a step towards you as you backed away, mumbling some excuse about needing more water. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Never, Jase." You nodded solemnly, your frown never once leaving your lips as you twisted back around to face him. "And maybe that's the problem."

I want you to break regulation and kiss the daylights out of me, you wanted to scream.

"I don't understand." He shook his head, open palms splayed up towards the sky, like he was pleading with you or the gods to explain to him.

You laughed once more, but this time, it echoed coldly in the empty training room. Gone was the sunshine smiled you wore, as if it had fallen behind the horizon as the real sun set over your head.

Bitterness twisted your heart, firing unfamiliar cruelty through your gaze, pinned on Jason. He almost flinched at the look on your face.

I don't understand, he had claimed. He didn't understand just how much you ached for him, praetor or not. Roman or mortal, you wanted him.

But he was a soldier, first. And maybe he was a soldier, only.

"Maybe that's the problem."

He called your name, but you were already out the door, letting the metal slam shut behind you.

You weren't enough of a fool to pretend to not see the lightning strike the roof of the training center, ruining the perfectly clear skies from only moments before. The only proof of Jason's frustration he would let the world see, you knew.

The only proof that maybe he ached the same way as you.

That night, you didn't sleep. Your poor bunkmates, listening to you twist and turn and try and get comfortable when it felt like knives were piercing your insides. Acid burned your tongue, cursing the appendage for ever trying to broach the subject about being more than soldiers to the other with Jason.

The next morning, you walked into breakfast, determined to avoid talking to Jason for at least a few hours.

Oh, what a mistake that wish was.

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace fanfic #pjo #rays of sun #sunnie writes

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eddiernunson · 1 year ago

Text

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety. “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.” He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

“Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

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

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @names-were-taken @bl4ckt00thgr1n

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you smut #older eddie munson #older eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader

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dearsonyeondan · 1 year ago

Text

seven | jeon jungkook

hi anon :3 i hope this scratches a good part to you, i haven't written in a while so it feels good to be able to again. inbox is forever opened when taking requests!

꒰ ꒱ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader [plus size suggestive]

꒰ ꒱ rating: 18+! please proceed responsibly.

꒰ ꒱ word count: 3.2k

꒰ ꒱ warning(s): slow burn into a bit of a quick fall. reader is plus sized and jungkook is obsessed with her thighs. writing these warnings before writing the smut, but expect it to be nasty.

꒰ ꒱ note 4 reader: this is just sinful. fic below keep reading also stream seven, that's the theme < 3!

it was on thursday when heuning kai had pointed out to you that jungkook was on his third visit of the week. you had been working for tomorrow x together since their debut, forming friendships amongst the five members. it was the promotion for their name chapter: temptation comeback and you had been responsible for tending to their makeup and hair for most of their shoots. "i mean, he visits often but he never sticks around to monitor. he hasn't done that in a while," kai whispered to you, smiling and thanking you for finishing his look for his part of the shoot.

you considered what he was saying to be absolute bullshit, convinced that jungkook just wanted to motivate them through the shoot. plus, he had been here for his own scheduling. you cleaned your section in the meantime, using the mirror to sneak glances at the man while he chatted with the stylist. mm.. . the tattoos. you overheard them discussing a possible cut to the hair that had grown to his shoulders. "and what do you think?" zara, one of the other stylists that had come from overseas, asked you. you hadn't even managed to notice that nicole trailed in, discussing with the other stylists about his vision.

jungkook had halted his discussion, turning from the lead stylist and nicole to look in your direction. you decided it was time to stop looking at him through the reflection of the mirror and to face him head on, leaving your station to head to zara's in which he'd been the closest to. "think of what?"

"what's your name?" he asked you, giving no cares about the conversation he had just sparked. you told him your name, a smile on his face with a satisfied. "i'm jungkook, but you can just call me jk if you want."

"and we were discussing you possibly taking the opportunity to be his stylist for his upcoming promotions with seven," zara said.

that's where it started. on the regular, you would step down and allow someone else to assist the lead stylist for tomorrow x together and became the lead stylist for jungkook. you still would work with them full time, but this was an opportunity to upgrade your position in the world of styling. it would look good on your resume. every thursday, you would leave your typical quarters and work with jungkook during his calvin klein promotions.

"keeping the hair long was an amazing job, the camera loves him," one of the editors said as you watched on the sidelines with your makeup kit in your hand. he was right, jungkook had been set on cutting his hair, but you expressed that it looked better with it long.

"i have a different opinion," you said softly, running your fingers through his hair underneath the sink. it was your third thursday working with jungkook and the tension had been high ever since the first meeting.

"are you admitting that you find me attractive?" he asked with a soft grin on his lips, big eyes looking up at you as you ran your fingers across his scalp. "tell me that you don't want me to cut it and i won't." he said softly and a part of you hated that it had just been the two of you in the salon. you could feel the innocent tingle of his fingertips dancing up your thighs, a teasing tongue poking from his lips.

"don't cut it." you smiled, running the faucet over his locks.

"how was that? was that the last take?" jungkook asked, removing the jacket and allowing his upper body to be engulfed in the cold air. another worker on the styling had assisted him with a handheld fan and a bottle of water. you ran the sharp ended comb through his hair, detangling his temporary mess of locks with it. he looked over you and you remained focused, hoping that you'd be able to go home after this.

the director of the shoot had considered it wraps since he had most of the shots that he wanted. heading outside, your phone had pinged as you took a seat on the bench.

zara:

i'm unable to pick you up. got caught in traffic heading back to seoul. so sorry 😢

you sighed, searching through your messages for another friend to pick you up if he had been free from his schedule. you had been granted access to use the private exit and entrance since sasaengs had been at an all time high.

"what are you doing here still?" a voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you realized that it was jungkook.

"oh... a friend of mine isn't able to pick me up anymore," you looked from your phone to see that someone had responded to your cry of help.

"i can take you home. i didn't ride the bike today," he rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling. you had no thoughts about it -- jungkook was well and capable enough to get you home. you shoved your phone in your pocket and rolled your makeup cart behind you.

"so.. have you eaten anything?" he asked, opening up your passenger door. he grabbed the cart from your hands and popped the trunk to his mercedes, putting the cart inside with ease.

"i had some lunch earlier before arriving the shoot, so i'm not hungry." you said, smiling softly. your stomach had grumbled, causing you to place your hand over it. jungkook snorted, looking over your figure before to his car.

"we can grab something if you want, i'm pretty hungry too." you scanned over his attire and had seen that he had most likely finished getting dressed from the shoot. he wore a sleeveless shirt, hair swiped back with a headband and comfortable sweats. even his tennis shoes looked expensive. you could tell that his hair was a little drenched and figured that since so-hee had come to the shoot today.

"sure, that's fine." you said, smiling and climbing into his car. he closed the door behind you and soon joined you in the driver's seat, starting the car and exiting the private parking garage. the car ride was silent, listening to his curated spotify playlist. you had to admit that most of his choices in music were immaculate, silently adding them to your playlist.

it was about a 25 minute drive when jungkook pulled over to a restauraunt that had been so hidden that he had to point it out to you. the entrance was private and two guards stood over the doors whenever they closed. you had been a bit nervous, under the impression that it would be more than a quick bite to eat.

"i'm not kidnapping you, i promise. i just eat here so often so now they're used to my license plate number," he chuckled. "we can grab it and go."

"no, it's.. fine. i've never been here," you said with a smile, letting out a slow exhale to cool your nerves. "but tell me, jeon," you turned to rest your elbow on the console. "what.. is going on?"

"what do you mean?" he leaned back, leaning his head towards the ceiling. he closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh only to turn his head to you. "you're bad at taking hints, you know?" he said to you, causing you to freeze and remain silent. "i was camping out with txt for 5 days straight before you even started to notice me."

"i did notice you," you said, blinking your eyes.

"yeah, but did you notice the flowers on your desk this morning? or what about the extra yogurt cup that you like to eat? in the fridge?" he said. he smiled to you and you thought over -- a vase of flowers did end up on your desk yesterday morning and you figured that it had been love from your old crew missing you on thursday's.

"those were... from you?" you asked. he nodded his head and you chuckled.

"we better go in to grab our food. it's getting close to 6 and i have a studio session at 9." he stated, pursing his lips with a soft smile. you had felt a bit bad missing all the chances when he'd come to hang with txt or the flowers on your desk. he turned the car off and soon met you around to open your door for you.

it had been two weeks since that event and that night had never left your mind. how nice he was, paying for both of your meals and walking you inside to help you with your makeup cart. every morning after that, you tried your best to give jungkook as much attention as he had once given you, but you had to be smart about it.

there was small words of affirmation you'd give him during work when fixing his hair or his makeup, causing him to chuckle and return them. it wasn't until two months after that he had asked you to come to his studio session to lend him advice as you had done being his stylist. you arrived much later after the time that he had asked, confirming through text that his producers and team had left and it would be just you two.

it would appear unprofessional to his team for you to arrive during his private schedule. so you requested it to be just like this. you pushed the door open, sliding in with your makeup cart after your shift.

"hey, you made it." he said, getting out of his chair to greet you with a warm hug. he took ahold of your makeup cart and moved it to the corner of his room. "i just got done with the ramen. are you hungry?"

you went to answer and he hesitated. "don't lie to me, either."

"i could eat, yeah," you chuckled, taking a seat at his comfortable couch. jungkook carefully handed you the ramen and there you two would talk over your day. it wasn't until past midnight that jungkook had grown frustrated, slightly removing the headphones and exiting the booth. you looked up from your phone, placing it on the side. "you alright?"

"i'm just hitting a brick wall with the bridge," he slid into the chair and started to type at his computer. you could see him rearranging the tracks, deleting and adding things to it. "i'm fuckin' over it, you wanna go home?"

you sat up straight at the sudden suggestion of leaving, scanning over the room for your makeup cart. "i can go if you need some alone time, absolutely."

you could watch the expression on jungkook's face changed, realizing that you wouldn't actually mind going. he stood up to protest against your actions, grabbing your hand softly and demanding your attention.

"don't leave. that was a dumb suggestion," he smiled and you laughed, placing your hand on your hip. "you look pretty tonight, your lip gloss is.."

you couldn't help but to gulp, standing up straight and looking around the room. "zara bought me a lip gloss for our friendship anniversary so i've been wearing it."

it was almost like he had nothing that you said. "can i kiss you?" he asked, his eyes focused on nothing but your lips. you licked over your bottom lip, taking the chance to glance at his lips. you nodded your head slowly, stabilizing yourself so you wouldn't pass out. you didn't need to, jungkook had already gripped your thighs and admired how thick they felt in the pair of jeans you wore today.

his mouth was soft against yours, hands sliding and gripping at your hips as he took bold steps to get you against the wall. you had been breathless, his mouth moving to leave tender kisses at your jaw. he was gentle in his movements, nudging your chin with his head to get more access so he could suck on your neck. it was impossible to breathe during moments like this, his hand rubbing up your breast to grip your neck.

"you gotta breathe for me baby, or i won't let you," he whispered, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. before you could even comprehend what he just told you, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. he kissed you one last time, teasing your tongue with his own before pulling from you. "fuck," he said, re-adjusting himself in his pants before stepping out to take the call. you wanted to pretend so bad you didn't see that curve.

you were thankful for the break towards your own self, adjusting your breathing and taking a seat back on the couch. of course, you and jungkook had done nothing but the casual flirting and after your first lunch together, you had noticed that he was persistent in his attraction to you. zara had noticed it first, but you never thought to pay attention to it.

it had been seven weeks since that night in the studio.

nothing had changed .. well, not that drastically. the two of you agreed that it was extremely unprofessional what had gone on during his studio session, noting that there is privacy inside but anyone could've walked in and caught you two. you both had agreed to cease all things for the better of privacy.

"keep talking to me, you know that i love that shit," jungkook grunted against your ear, hands prying your legs open so that he could continue to dig you out solely with the power of his fingers. his free hand teased at your thigh, getting a good feel of it bare. wearing that skirt was a plus. the movie that you two had started up in the background had simply meant nothing. not when you had been on the brink of an orgasm and not when jungkook was hard as rock in his pants. it meant nothing to the sweet moans that he craved to hear, teasing into you before anything. "you're squeezing me so tight baby," he pulled away from sucking the skin at your collarbone. "it's just my fingers." he whispered against your thigh, scissoring his fingers into your heat whilst sucking on the skin.

the movie had still been going on when your phone rang for the second time, jungkook granting you a break while you tended to it. "it's zara, girl i have to tell you the tea about this boy i just went on a date with!" you sighed, wanting to roll your eyes but than remembering that she was to tell you every detail. "zara, it's a bad time right now-"

jungkook had resumed his ministrations to your neck, easing his fingers back into you so that he could grant you a reward. it drove you nuts when he started to hump into you, providing special attention to the hard on that he'd been accompanying for the majority of this makeout session. he had never demanded too much of you, just to feel good and sound pretty for him. he was doing that now, making sure to remain quiet through the disappointed sound of zara's voice. "30 minutes? i can.. i can definitely give you a call back in 30 minutes."

and so it was, your phone flying from your hands onto the couch and back into jungkook's hair as he helped you reached your orgasm. you fiddled around his sweats now, hoping to get a taste of what he'd been withholding from you. "no, maybe another time. i know what i want to do with you, right now."

he climbed from your being and pull his sweats down, calvin klein underwear withholding his hard on. you can tell that he was thick in girth, a curve revealing itself close the tip. you licked over his lips and he chuckled, a breathy request to never give him that look again.

"you're a great klein boy," you said with a chuckle as he grabbed your hands to pull your hands to get you to be on top of him. your panties had still been around your left ankle, but he was impatient.

"and you're my beautiful girl. can you ride me now?" he asked and you blushed. you put your hands on the back of the couch as he rubbed his tip against your entrance. you leaned forward to chew on his earlobe as you sunk down on him, a soft moan filling his ears as he bottomed out in you.

"..fucking.. you'll be the death of me," he whimpered into your breast, biting at your shirt and using his hands to cup your ass. with his strength, he began to lift and drop you, literally bouncing you up and down his thick and curvy dick. you were wet in an instant, creaming if you had been given the chance and full on sucking jungkook's neck.

his head was thrown back against the sofa, eyes rolling to the ceiling as you squeezed him. "so fucking tight, so creamy baby," he praised you, licking stripes at your neck. he massaged your ass with his hands once you started to bounce on his toes, thumb circling a special area before softly plunging in.

"baby, fuck.." you lowered your head on his shoulders, sitting down fully before rocking your hips back and forth. it was insane that the two of you co-existed throughout the week as total strangers and on the seventh day of every week, he'd fuck your brains out. of course there was romance, sneaky kisses in the makeup room when no one had been around and texts of "i miss you's" being exchanged. but nothing compared to the feeling you'd get when hearing the sound of your sofa screech because he'd been dogging you out. nothing compared to how desperate he'd become when trying to get both you and his nut.

the sweet nothings was more than somethings when you orgasmed around him and he filled you up, rocking into you until he softened and was for sure that you'd be full of his cum. it was sinful, the connection that you two had created.

you placed your hands on his chest and caught your breath, continuing to rock your hips with your bottom lip between your teeth. "you wan' some more?" jungkook asked, pulling your top over your body while doing the same to his own clothes. "you don't get enough of me, do you?"

he asked, unclipping your bra with one hand before taking a nipple into his mouth. he had angled his bottom while doing so, thrusting his hips into your heat as though you didn't milk him dry. you were down for the challenge though - the challenge of pure overstimulation and which one of you would be the one to call it quits first.

"want me to clear my schedule tonight for you?" he asked after giving you a quick trip to poundtown. the two of you had been in your bed, cuddled up underneath the covers after a fresh bath.

"you've taken off the past two days. this is usually just a sunday thing." you brought up.

"what if i want this to be more than a sunday thing, hm?" he kissed at your forehead. there was a look in your eyes that he had never seen you give before. "i like spending time with you, outside of the sex. you know you mean more to me than that."

"yeah?" you asked him, placing a kiss over his lips.

"i'd like to be with you seven days out of the week if i could," he said, sliding his mouth over yours. before you know it, you'd been on your back and hands encased in his.

seven days a week didn't sound too bad.

#networkbangtan #bts fic #bts fanfction #bts x chubby reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bangtan #bts smut #jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #i need this so bad

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