#ooh my god this chapter is long

[infizero]

im going fucking crazy im going to bite someone’s head off kris and noelle deltarune making my brain fucking melt

[madamechrissy]

Up in The Air

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Suguru Geto x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Cunnilingus and fingering, and a lot of Suguru eating reader out bc... it's headcanon Sugu loves to eat it lol.

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 7,657

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ You have been jilted at the altar by your groom, Mahito, who has led you on for years. Your best friends, Maki and Yuta, suggest to go on this Honeymoon alone, to get away and find yourself again. On the plane ride, you run into a gorgeous man on a business trip, who holds your hand when you say that you're terrified of planes, Suguru Geto. You all fall into easy conversation, and there's chemistry, he makes you feel better than you had in a long time. You think to ask his number, when he realizes that his room has fallen through. Well, you have a big honeymoon suite, and you suggest he stays with you. What can go wrong?

Chapter 2 - Masterlist- Playlist

Chapter 3

You stretch, waking up with the most beautiful view, sunlight streaming in, you sit up and see the ocean outside, the bright sun, the breeze swaying the trees. It is absolutely stunning… and you’re here… With Suguru Geto, at the thought of that alone you hop up, checking your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your top.

You smooth out your hair, brushing your teeth and washing your face in the bathroom mirror, and your eyes… they’re glittering. There’s life in them, life you had not seen in so long. You feel better, you feel so hopeful, and it’s such a new and foreign feeling that it’s hard to take.

You peek out, and don’t see him, your heart falters a moment, but all his things are there, so you breathe easy. Your fear of abandonment is hard to handle. You go and find your phone, checking on texts from Maki and your mom, updating them and snapping pictures. You tell Maki about Suguru, she demands a picture, you muse on how you’ll do that later…

There’s a message from him.

Your stomach flip flops.

Suguru: Headed to do work things… wish I could just lounge by the beach. You totally should. Dinner at 7?

You squeal, you fucking squeal. Are you fifteen again?

You: That sounds perfect! Where should we go?

…

He’s typing!

“Fuck…”

You nibble your lower lip.

Suguru: There's this little restaurant by the marina that is supposed to have the best seafood. Do you like seafood?

You: I am down for that! Yummy!

Suguru: You are.

You’re flushing, sitting down for this, so nervous… was he flirting with you? Fuck, what even was this? Someone desiring you, someone complimenting you, and he happens to be gorgeous. And his fingers…

Welp.

Your own tremble as you type.

You: You don’t know if I am yet.

Did you just say that? You nibble on your nail nervously, watching the three dots wiggling, freaking out. You take a shaky breath, wondering if that was too far, if it was too suggestive, if…

Suguru: I have a feeling you are. Taste yourself and tell me. If you remember those lessons.

You fall backwards on the couch, covering your face, you’re dying. “Fuck, I need advice.” You call Maki. “Maki, I need you!”

“Oh my god, tell me!”

“Okay… you alone?”

“Just with Yuta. What’s up?”

“Oh god, he can’t hear this, take me off speaker!”

“Okay let me walk out… alright, what is it?”

“Maki… okay… this guy is the dude you said was hot at the airport.”

“What!”

“Yes and… okay… he got me off.” Maki is squealing now too, you laugh, breathlessly. “Nothing went too far. He just touched me…”

“Oh my god. I’m so happy for you! Just marry him?”

“Maki it’s been two days, chill. Okay, so, he wrote me this.” You screenshot the message, and Maki gasps.

“Ooh, he’s fucking sexy too. Bitch! Okay, snap him a pic of your-”

“Maki, no!”

“Trust me.”

“I can’t!”

“Oh gosh… then, finger yourself and taste yourself? We are really being super close right now, you know.”

“No kidding.” You’re shaking nervously, thighs pressing together. “Okay, just tell him I taste… good? The fuck.”

“Yep, if you won’t do the pic. Hmm, wear a cute bikini and take a sexy pic!”

“I don’t know how!”

“Oh gosh. Video chat.” You get on with her now, flushed as can be, Maki is grinning. “You look like you got off.”

“Oh god.” You cover your mouth, laughing, but then you ease your hand down, his words getting you. “Maki, I really like him, and this is stupid fast.”

“Just roll with it. Okay, put me down somewhere.” You do so. “Now, get on your knees. Perfect, arch those tits out. Now, pick me up, hold me up high. Not that high, yep there. Push em together. That’s the shot!”

“How do you know all this?” You ask, giggling again.

“Don’t ask.” She rolls her eyes with a smirk. “Get to it, girl scout.”

“Wait, what do I say with it?”

“Say… that you wanna know if it’s cute.”

“Okay, bet. I love you!”

“Love you too. Kisses!” She ends the call, and you nervously run to get on a bathing suit, finding the pretty pink one she had packed for you. You slide it on, and get another text.

Suguru: Fuck, was that too forward?

Shit!

You go take a bunch of photos, sliding through each one, you end up sending three you like to Maki, asking her to pick. She sends back her favorite, and you flush at how your breasts are on full display. You take several breaths, before sending it to him then.

You: I was getting in my bikini, oh my gosh no, not too forward. I totally kissed you on a plane? So I think there’s no such thing.

You: What do you think? Is it cute?

Suguru: Fuck.

You’re giggling now, and then you go to the bed, sitting nervously, leaning back and cautiously running a hand down your tummy, into the waistband of the bikini bottoms, finding your clit, pressing up. You gasp at it, at something that used to feel so wrong, but now, with Suguru’s help it felt good. So good. Not as good as his fingers, of course, but…

You nervously taste yourself, and it’s sweet and tangy, you are surprised by it, and feel yourself heat up, imagining him tasting you. Now you’re stupidly wet again, something that has been going on since you met him. You struggle to compose yourself, picking back up the phone.

Suguru: You look so good.

You smile.

You: Thank you!! Okay… um, I taste good.

“Fuck… I just did that?” You cover your face, sinking back into the pillows, your cunt is slick, aching, just from the thought of him. You’re having fun, for the first time in so long.

The phone blings, and you eagerly pick it up, rolling on your tummy and nibbling on your nail, swiping it open to read it.

Suguru: I am now hard in a meeting with a bunch of dudes. This is awkward.

You snort in laughter.

You: That’s your own fault! You wouldn’t let me take care of that.

Suguru: I’ll be fine. Okay, I’ll see you tonight… and maybe I will find out if you’re telling the truth.

You: Maybe you will. Okay see you soon!

Your entire body is overheated at this point, the cool water sounds more and more inviting. You throw on a cover up and some shades, grab your sunblock and your things, and go to nibble on something downstairs. You notice some men there are looking at you, some have flirted, and it’s flattering maybe, that you’re getting noticed, but you already have no eyes for anyone.

You may be foolish, but you are too eager to see Suguru again than anything, and even if it led to nothing, for the moment he would be all you would focus on. You were a one person girl, even if the last person was total trash, it did not change that for you.

The sand is warm beneath your feet as you stroll along the shore, your pretty room visible as you turn back to see. The waves are crashing rhythmically against the shore, the prettiest bright blue waters, warm against your feet. You find a quiet spot under a palm tree, spread out your towel, and begin to slather on the sunblock, turning on your little bluetooth speaker.

You pop on music, then lay back, letting the sun bathe your skin, it feels so nice and warm, so comfortable. The salty air carries the scent of the ocean, you inhale it, feeling so peaceful, hearing the sounds of the waves and the birds mixing with your favorite music. You had forgotten what it felt like to be so relaxed, to feel so excited about something.

The day drags on leisurely, and soon you head back, and peek in the mirror, you have a pretty glow from the sun, just a little red on your cheeks and nose. You have about an hour or so to get ready for your date with Suguru. You’re nervous, but the excitement is bubbling in your stomach, so you shower, then blow dry your hair, and start to put on makeup.

After getting dolled up, in your towel still, you go over to the dresser, heart fluttering as you peer through all the lingerie. Fuck. Which one?

He mentioned the white one, so you start putting it on, the white lace so delicate and pretty, and it reveals everything, the color of your nipples, the apex of your thighs, hugging your curves. There are little straps along your breasts, pushing them up, and garters attached. You have never seen yourself look so hot.

You decide to slide on a pretty, thin white dress, perfect for the weather, it gave Marilyn vibes, a halter, cinched in skirt, accentuating everything, and there is a hint of that lacy lingerie. You eagerly peek at the time, it’s a little before seven, and you hear him walk in now, closing the door behind him quietly.

Shit.

“Hey!” You come out of the room to greet him, nervously fidgeting with your hands in front of you, his lips part, his chocolate eyes sliding down your body, caressing it as if it were his very hands. Goosebumps rise everywhere they touch.

“You look amazing.” He says softly, walking to you, holding out his hands. You take them and he makes you spin, whistling, you giggle. “Just gorgeous.”

“You’re too sweet to me. Thank you, Suguru.” You look down shyly, he tilts your chin up, you are breathless, the look on his face so entranced, mirroring your own.

“Let me get ready real quick? I already got reservations.” You nod, smiling, you can’t stop yourself from smiling actually, even if you try to come down to Earth, it’s not working well.

“Perfect! Go right ahead.” He dips into the room, then the bathroom, and you take a selfie for Maki, who replies back with a bunch of heart eye emojis.

After a few minutes, he comes out, dressed more casually than his three piece suit, he had a short sleeve button down, light blue, that revealed much of the corded muscles of his arms. He wore slacks that hung looser over his hips, and your eyes swallowed him in, until they got back up to his face, his hair was fully up, in some little knot, but some fell over his forehead.

“I’d like to see your hair down.” You tease, coming up to him and brushing his hair back. He smirks.

“So bold!”

“I am, huh?”

“I…” He clears his throat, a little pink on his cheeks. “I really liked that picture, I wish I was just on the beach with you.”

You’re blushing too. “That would have been lovely! Does this scare you, Suguru, how easy this feels?” You murmur, holding his hand. His tenses, and you meet his gaze, seeing his jaw clench a bit.

“Yeah. It’s scary as fuck. I’m trying not to look into it too much but, it’s pretty comfortable with you.” He exhales, picking your hand up, kissing it.

“Should I just enjoy it, not look too much into this either?” You ask softly, and he tilts his head a bit.

“You should feel whatever you feel. Don’t hold back just to not scare me away or something. I’m not easily frightened, mind you. If you knew my friends you would understand.” He smirks.

“Maybe I’ll meet them? Fuck, that’s stupid.” You ease back, turning, but he snatches your wrist, coming up behind you. Your pulse races.

“You never know. You might.” His voice is husky.

“You know how to make me feel better.” You smile sadly back at him, as his hard chest is pressed against your back, warmth emanating from him.

“You worry too much.” He kisses the side of your head, at your temple, your eyelashes flutter close in bliss.

“I really do. Sorry-”

“I wonder if I spanked you every time you say that if you’ll stop.”

Fuck you’re wet again.

“Or… if you’d do it to get spanked.” He snorts a bit in laughter, and you glare back at him now.

“You’re cheeky.” You poke at him, turning, he grins.

“A bit. Come on, we can actually just walk there, it’s across the beach just a bit.” You nod, sliding on some glittery sandals, snatching up your purse. “Oh and I’m buying remember?”

“I do! Buying me drinks too?” You wink at him, he grins, and you all step out, arm in arm, walking to the elevator.

“Of course, I’m a gentleman after all.” You’re alone in the elevator now, your mind goes awry, looking down at where your arms were joined up, your hand in the crook of his elbow. “You got color today.”

“I know, I got a little burnt on the face.” He gently touches your nose.

“Should have put aloe on it before we left. It’s cute though.”

“It is? The Rudolph look?”

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You do not look like rudolph. But, you know, he’s cute so.”

“Well thank you.” The elevator dings, and you two walk out the doors, until you’re down on the sand, heading towards the boardwalk.

You walk side-by-side down the boardwalk now, taking in all the sights of the evening as the sun has set. There are stands everywhere, of jewelry, food, paintings, you name it. As you approach the marina, the sweet smell of seafood fills the air, making your stomach grumble.

He laughs at you.

“My tummy tells on itself.”

“Well perfect timing.”

The little restaurant is nestled amongst the colorful wooden boats, all lit up, as a hostess takes you all to your table. There are twinkling lights hanging from the thatch roof above, giving it the perfect beachy vibe. It’s so cozy, with a live band playing local music, everything is wide open and breezy.

Your table is overlooking the marina and the ocean beyond, so peaceful as the evening begins, casting a pretty purple and orange glow across the water. You look at Suguru across from you, sitting your chin in your hand, studying him as he speaks to the waitress, who was fawning over him.

Well, you were too.

The wind is flowing, blowing those little bangs of his, and you imagine him with his hair down, he’d look like some romance cover. Your own hair is in a loose bun with wispy tendrils, that flow, and his eyes seem to watch you then, his lips are moving, was he talking?

Shit.

“What do you want to drink, Princess?” He asks softly, and the waitress swoons, holding her chest.

“Oh, you’re so lucky!” She tells you. “To have such a man.”

You blush furiously, he just grins, wiggling his brows. “He’s not my man… yet…” He raises his brows now. “But I am lucky, this is totally kind of a date?”

“Totally kind of.” He agrees, his broad shoulders shaking with humor.

“Ah, new love. And he’s so handsome.” She fans herself, her accent is thick, and you nod.

“He is.” You agree, winking at him.

“But, you are so pretty too!” You smile at that.

“Yes, she is.” Suguru agrees, leaning forward, his fingers together, that charming smile and his sexy eyes glowing in the soft lights.

“Thank you.” You murmur, and then peek at the menu. “Can you recommend a good drink?” You ask her.

“Absolutely.” She points out some tropical looking drink with a weird name. You shrug.

“Sounds good.” Suguru orders his drink, he is simple and gets a beer, as they bring the drinks soon you laugh at how wild yours looks, all different colors and a big umbrella and fruit on the top. “Okay, that looks good.”

“Let’s try it together!” You scooch it in the middle of the table, and pop two straws in the glass, leaning forward, his amused eyes narrow as they stare at your lips hovering above the drink.

“All right.” He stands up, hands on either side of the table, and you both sip the frozen drink at the same time. You pause as you two just stand there, hunched over, lips on your straws. He licks his lower lip, so full, now glossy and tempting you, and your tummy clenches in desire from the smallest act.

You were simping bad already, shit.

You clear your throat, licking your lips, and his eyes dart back down there, you wonder wildly if he thinks the same. The part of you that is damaged from Mahito and insecure screams that he couldn’t really, that he just feels sorry for you so he is nice, but this other part? The part that used to be you, the part that Geto brings out? It thinks that you’re pretty hot.

It’s fucking nice, to feel sexy, desired, by someone you would kiss right across this table. In fact, you are both staring at each other, paused, as if you both were in some sort of trance. You reach down to sip again, laying your elbows on the table, your breasts are pressed up, and you enjoy his quick look, lingering just a second.

“Are you teasing me?” He asks softly, tugging on one of your strands of hair that has come loose, sipping some again. You cover your face, nodding.

“I don’t know what I’m doing though.” You admit, sitting back, he sits back as well, legs wide you notice, an arm back over the back of the empty chair next to him.

“You’re doing a pretty good job of it.” You look at the seat, then get up your courage and hop up, sitting next to him. He grins. “A very good job.”

“It feels so formal across from each other, doesn’t it? This reminds me more of the airplane.” He brushes the backs of his fingers along your cheek, and you feel yourself aching for more.

“It does, hmm? Not just an excuse to be closer?” He’s teasing you now, and it works, you’re all red.

“I won’t say either way.” You pick up the menu, and you both start choosing different food, crab legs and shrimp, and all sorts of things. You fall into a comfortable conversation, it was always so easy with him, since you’d met, this whirlwind of meeting someone you could be yourself with.

It seemed quick when the food started coming out, but time just passed quickly around him. The moonlight was already rising along the sky, reflecting in the water, and it got a little chilly with the wind, making you shiver. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, big hand rubbing your upper arm, pulling you a little closer, scooching your chairs together.

You smile up at him, and when his eyes catch yours, your breath catches in your throat. “Thank you, Suguru.” You murmur. He just smiles, and you drink in the sight of him next to you, probably embarrassingly so.

“Of course. I should have brought a jacket with me.” His hand runs up your shoulder, then his eyes drop to your chest, where the lines of the lingerie below were just barely peeking out.

“It’s a beach, of course you wouldn’t think you’d need a jacket, silly. It’s just the breeze.” He hums, thumb playing with the strap on your shoulder now, sending desire through you, hot and heavy. Your hand gently goes to his thigh, and you feel the tense hard muscle underneath.

“Is this…” He breaks off as the waitress comes back, and you tense, but he does not take off his arm, as Mahito would. Mahito had not shown public affection towards you, deeming it embarrassing.

“Dessert?” She asks, and Suguru looks at you then, his hand still firm on your shoulder, reassuring you.

“Would you like any, love?” He purrs those words, they send a shiver through your body. You shake your head.

“I’m so full. But thank you!” You smile to the waitress, and she goes off to get cases for your food and the check. You turn back to look at Suguru then, his gaze is back to the straps of the lingerie.

“Everything okay?” He asks softly, you nod, scooching a little closer, he pulls you against him, so warm, you sink into his embrace.

“You’re not embarrassed of me?” You curse inwardly as the words slip out, as Suguru tenses, glaring down at you with those narrowed eyes now.

“What stupid question is that? Why would I be. Why would I ask you to come out with me?”

“I… because you feel obligated? Or sorry.” You feel tears prick the back of your eyes, blinking them back, and his grip grows tight on you.

“No to both.” He says through gritted teeth, and you immediately feel you have fucked something up. “Is this another thing that happened?”

“I don’t want to keep annoying you with those things. Please, forget I said anything, I don’t want to ruin the night.” You put your hand on his chest, looking at him pleadingly, he exhales, grip on you tight.

“You won’t ruin anything. It’s just a little ridiculous at this point, you’re sitting here looking fucking beautiful, breathtaking…” Your cheeks heat up, your tummy flipping as he studies you so intently. “And you think I’d be embarrassed?”

“It was just what I am used to.”

“I’m not him.”

“Not even close. You’re a man.” You murmur, and his jaw eases just a bit, grip easing as well, sighing. “I don’t think you’re anything like him. Just stupid thoughts, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry that you think that way.” He eases away, and you feel the tears burning again, so worried that you’re so damaged you’re fucking up the one good thing you’ve ever really had happen. You look away, clearing your throat.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back.”

You ignore him when he says your name, softly, and once you’re in the little bathroom you lock yourself in the stall, feeling the tears start to flow. You curse, yanking toilet paper down, struggling not to fuck up your carefully done makeup.

“Stupid, stupid.” You curse yourself, sighing tremulously, leaning your head into your hands. You’re fucking this up. But how could you just get over everything that’s happened to you?

You stay a few moments, going to the mirror, popping on some concealer to cover where your mascara had smudged from your tears. Suguru had called you beautiful. Breathtaking. And the way he looked to you, you felt that way, you just had to trust this, you had to move on.

Setting your shoulders straight, you walk back out, and Suguru is not at the table anymore, your heart falters a bit when you see him up towards the front, with numerous women gathered around him. You can’t feel anything about it, you barely knew him, and he wasn’t yours, but there was a little odd feeling there, as you see the beautiful women that giggled around him.

You stood there, before slowly walking up, and the women parted. Suguru smiled to you, holding his hand out, and it meant so much to you then, him acknowledging you, looking at you, smiling. You smile, placing your little hand in his own, comfortingly swallowing yours.

“Shall we head out?” You nod. “Perfect, thanks so much for dinner.” He says to the staff, and they all swooned and fawned over him as you all walked out, hand in hand, stepping fully out into the breeze, he looks at you then.

You turn your head, looking up at him, Suguru gently lifts your chin up, wrapping an arm around your waist. You feel yourself heat up at the contact, at feeling his hard, warm body against yours. You shyly look down a bit.

“Look at me.” He orders, silkenly, and you’d do anything he asked, anything he said, if it was like that. You do as he says, eyes meeting his now, your lips parting just a bit. “I’m not upset with you. Promise.”

“You’re not?” Your voice broke just a bit. He sighs, bending down lower, noses nearly touching.

“Not one bit. I just got mad someone made you feel that way. Fuck, I’d be mad that anyone feels this way. But never mad at you.” You exhale, gratefully, nodding and blinking back the stupid emotion.

“I’m so glad. I am having so much fun and I don’t want to ruin it.” He smiles, a little half turn of his lips, thumb tracing your jawline.

“No way, you’ve made everything better.”

“Me?” He nods. “You made everything better.” Your hands go up to his chest, feeling his hard muscles, his steady heartbeat on your palms.

“By what, being here with a beautiful girl? In her fancy fucking suite? While she wears lingerie that’s driving me insane thinking about?” You’re bright red now, and he laughs softly at you.

“I’ve never had so much fun. Please, stay the rest of the time? Even if a room opens up?”

“Of course. I’m having fun too.” He presses a little kiss on your lips, and you wonder if these things only mean so much to you, but for now you shove that thought down, and enjoy his full lips on yours. You moan softly, and he inhales, sharply, easing back.

“Earlier, those texts… they really got me excited. And nervous?” You giggle thinking about it, he grins, easing away now, and you all start to walk. “I’ve never felt like that.”

“You give me too much credit, thanking me for having dinner with you, thanking me for staying, now you’re thanking me for sending horny texts?” You giggle into your hand, then think better, grinning up at him, he pauses on the boardwalk, smiling. “You’re listening huh?”

“You’re a good teacher, you know.” You tease, tapping his lips with your fingertip, he nips it, and your thighs clench together, heat pooling between them. “I think I need more lessons.”

“Oh do you?” His voice is husky, eyes going hooded, you can’t believe you have been so bold.

“Yes, I think I could use one tonight. If you don't need to go to sleep super early? I don’t want to interfere with anything.” You look away, but he stops you.

“Ah-ah.” You peek back up. “I’ll do another lesson, as long as you allow me to see this. It’s been driving me crazy all night.” He murmurs, sliding his fingers under the straps. You nip your lower lip, drawing his eyes to it, you’re growing wet under the lacy panties of the lingerie.

“It has?” He rolls his eyes, sighing, snatching up your hand, continuing your walk back to the resort.

“Yeah.” Was all he said, quietly, and you watch a faint color on his cheeks, making you flush more. “Very much. Is that why you wore it?”

You look down, giggling. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, hmm?” You grin up at him, and he grins back at you, soon you all are back up to the room, you’re taking off your shoes, and he is as well. “I am going to take a shower real quick? Is that fine?”

“Of course! I’ll just get you some towels, hang on.” You murmur, he pauses you then, a hand on your wrist as you are grabbing him towels. “Hmm?”

“Why don’t you…” He trails a hand gently down your straps again, straps he had been teasing all night, backs of his fingers trailing against your sensitive skin, making your pulse race, desire hitting hard. “Get more comfortable?”

You feel everything spinning then, at the deep voice, the suggestion, the look in his pretty eyes. You nervously run a hand along his where it met your skin, rubbing little circles along the back of his hands. “I can do that.”

“Perfect.” He gently kisses your forehead, something you like far, far too much, and heads into the bathroom.

You freak the fuck out.

You text Maki, asking for advice, and then you nervously peek in the mirror as you wait, looking in the mirror, your entire face is pink, a mix of sunburn and being flustered. You nervously take off your dress, revealing the pretty lacy number, snapping a pic and sending it to Maki.

Maki: Bitch you look perfect!

You: Thank you but how do I get… comfortable?

Maki: Get a drink and lounge on the couch, all sexy and shit, I totally believe in you!

You take a breath, doing as she suggested, walking over to the stocked mini bar, deciding to get some wine and pour two glasses. You didn’t know if Geto drank wine, but you wanted to have him something too. You go sit nervously on the couch, positioning your body this way and that, over analyzing everything, trying to look casual, to look sexy…

It ended up being you just leaning against the side of the arm of the couch, legs crossed, and you had thrown on the little sheer mesh cover that hung on your shoulders loosely, not covering anything but it looked so elegant. You hear the water shut off, and busy yourself looking at the phone, trying to control your heated breathing.

This was wild right?

Fuck it.

When Geto steps out, shirtless, your throat goes dry, your heart fucking hammering at the sight of him. It’s not something you could get used to, how perfect he looks, and as your eyes slide up, you see his hair is loose, and soft, fucking shiny and gorgeous. It’s softly falling around his face, making him look even more attractive, and his full lips are parted, staring at you.

You watch his eyes glide up and down your body, your legs, your breasts, until they get to your face finally, and he exhales. You are just sitting there nervously, palms sweaty, you bend over to grab his drink, standing and handing it to him, your fingers brush as you both pause.

“I didn’t know if you like wine?” You ask nervously, he clears his throat then, sitting both of your glasses down, and you frown. “There’s plenty of other drinks, or we could just have water?”

He cups your face gently, bending low, your breaths are mingling, his tasting like mint. “You look fucking…” He trails off, hands trailing down the lace of your lingerie, along your curves. “Yummy.”

You giggle. “Yummy hmm?”

He grins, stepping back and looking down your body. “That fucking describes you perfectly right now.”

You bravely kiss him, on your tip toes, eliciting a moan from him. “Do I taste yummy too?” You whisper, he moans then, and before you know it he’s snatched you up in his arms, you squeak in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fuck, you’re super strong.”

“You don’t weigh much. But I do work out.” He teases, and you’ve never been grabbed like this, felt so excited and… safe.

“I see this.” You tease, kissing him again, he is grabbing your ass, moaning, as you wrap your thighs around him, and he’s just carrying you? Like it’s nothing. Until you feel your bed against your back.

“Even prettier on your back.” He whispers, you’re soaking wet now, arching your hips up and whining as he watches you.

“Mmm… Geto…”

“Suguru. Call me Suguru.” He whispers, and you bite your lip, he eases your teeth off it. “You bite it too much.”

“I do, hmm? Well… Suguru, bite it for me.” You whisper, he exhales, gently caressing your face, kissing your lower lip, running his tongue along it, before sucking it into his mouth and nipping it. “Mmnh!”

“Yummy.” He whispers, you moan as he runs his hands down your body, easing off the little mesh top, sliding it off you. His hand grazes the sides of your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples through the lace. “I won’t go any further than you want to. I promise. You’re safe with me, okay?”

You feel emotion catch in your throat, and you nod, blinking rapidly, holding his strong shoulders in your hands. “I already knew that. I have a feeling you won’t go as far as I want.” You whisper with a smirk, and he laughs a bit, nodding.

“You’re probably right. But I want you to want this.”

“I do, I want this so fucking bad. Like anything you want to give me, or do, I want. Should I show you how much?” You raise a brow, and he nods, you take his hand then, sliding it to where you’re soaked, and he moans as he feels you over your lacy panties, you gasp as his finger grazes your clit over the material.

“Do you just stay drenched?” He murmurs, one hand grabbing your hair, the other stroking your clit, sticky through the fabric.

“This is a new development.” You admit, and he’s kissing you then, drinking in your cries as he tortures you over your fabric, leaving you wanting more, more.

“Hmm… before our next lesson, I should know if you paid attention to the first one.” He pulls back with a teasing grin. You cry out at the loss of contact.

“I did! Kinda.”

“Mmm, let’s see then.” Your mouth is wide open, and he has the biggest grin on his handsome face, picking you up and scooching you further on the bed. You gasp, and he takes your hand, kissing it, then sliding it in your panties. You gasp as your own finger finds your clit.

“Mnh!” You whine, and he eases back a bit, eyes full of desire, hands rubbing up and down your thighs, hooking in your panties.

“May I?” He asks, and you nod, trembling as he bares you to him, and his breath catches when he sees your pussy, slick and shimmering with desire for him, thighs wide open so he could see it all. “Fuck.”

You’re shaking, and feel your chest heaving as he sees you fully, it was something that had not really happened before. You grow nervous, trying to shut your legs a bit, but he spreads them, shaking his head, soft long black hair falling and flowing with the motion.

“Is it okay? I-”

“You’re perfect.” He murmurs, eyes flicking back up to yours, desire heavy in them, reflecting your own. “Fucking perfect little pussy.”

“Yeah?” He laughs a bit at you.

“Yes. You’re… perfect is the only word I can think. And it’s hard to think at the moment.” He takes your hand again, guiding your finger back to your clit, and you rub it, gasping at how good it feels. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

You feel beautiful.

“Th-thank you, Suguru.” You manage, head arching back, hips raising under his gaze, stuck on your cunt like a fucking hawk, flickering his eyes up your body to your face, then back down, his strong hands gripping your thighs.

“That’s it, you have this part down. Now what about sliding a finger in?” He suggests, fucking sexy voice of his like velvet, and you nervously do so, crying out when you slide your own finger in your slippery wet entrance. “Fuck…”

“It’s not as good as yours.” You whine, and he takes your fingers then, bringing them to his mouth, sucking them off, eyes closed, moaning. You gasp, and when his eyes open again, they’re fucking ravenous.

“You taste so good.” He murmurs, then he slides his finger up and down your slit, making you tense in desire, throbbing around him, he slides that finger out and into your mouth. You moan, licking yourself off, then he’s on you, kissing you, his weight pressed on top of your overheated body.

“Mmm! Suguru!” You cry out when he kisses down your throat, to your breasts, and he slides them out of the cups of the lingerie.

“You’re beautiful everywhere.” He whispers, eyes locking on yours when he lavishes a nipple with his tongue, you tense everywhere, the pleasure so good you can’t stand it. “Pretty, perfect breasts.”

“Fuck.” You manage, and he’s kissing lower, your tummy, and you grow even wetter if that’s possible, pulsing around nothing, his silky hair is tickling you, you gently grab it.

“I want to taste you fully.” He whispers, breath against the hood of your clit, you moan at it, hips raising up towards him. He spreads your thighs, and his gaze, seductive as fuck, meets yours. “Do you want me to, Princess, to taste you?”

“Oh please, yes. Please.” You’re begging and you don’t fucking care, he smiles, kissing the hood of your clit, teasing you, then he slides his tongue up your slit, tasting you, and it feels so fucking good you nearly scream. “Fuck! Fuck.”

“You taste so sweet.” He whispers, flicking his tongue up again, spreading your lips apart further, sliding his tongue in your entrance, you do scream now.

“Suguru! So good. So good.” You cry out, tears sliding from your eyes as pressure builds quick, like before, but so much more intense. Your hands grab his hair, pulling him to you, and he moans, vibrating your puffy little clit, and you’re panting, feeling every nerve ending on fire.

“So close already, Princess?” He murmurs, peeking up at you, a mischievous smirk on his face, which is glistening with your desire. You giggle, breathlessly, nodding to him.

“It feels too good.” You murmur, and he grins, kissing your clit again.

“I’m just getting started, love.” You’re surprised at this, but then he’s tilting his head, and holding the hood of your clit up, flicking his tongue on the sensitive bundle of nerves, faster and faster, and you cum hard, so hard, blinding you, gripping the sheets below you, as it rocks you like nothing you’ve know.

“Suguru!” You scream out his name, panting.

“Cum as many times on my face as you want.” He whispers, fingering you then, and you’re rocking your hips against his face, wanton.

“It’s okay?” You whisper. “It’s messy.”

He laughs at you, hot against your aching, oversensitive cunt, thrusting his finger up to that spot that makes you see stars. “I’ll drink it all up, don’t worry, Princess.”

Fuck.

He’s back down there again, using his finger in sync with his tongue, and you’re falling apart all over again, as another orgasm washes through you, hot sticky cum pulsing out onto his hands, onto his face. He’s moaning, and the obscene sounds of him literally slurping you up turn you on goddamn more.

“There you go. Good girl.” He whispers, and now his face is fucking soaked, he licks his lips, grinning.

“You’re really fucking good at this.” You whisper, voice hoarse from how hard you just came.

“I enjoy it. Especially with your pretty, yummy little cunt.” His words bring you up again, as when he slides another finger in you, stretching you out. “Can you take these two, love?”

“I can do it.” You nod, wincing a bit, and he laughs a bit at you, sweetly though, watching you as you adjust.

“You’re so stupid fucking tight.” He is knuckles deep, tilting his fingers up, hitting that spongy little spot over and over, and you’re cumming from just that, making his hand slick as he plays you like an instrument. “So beautiful when you cum.”

“Fucking so good. Mmm.” You lose words, you lose sense of self, and he’s going back down there, you’re not sure you can take anymore.

“Cum one more time for me, Princess. Would you?” He asks, and you whine, brushing back his hair.

“So sensitive. Ah!” He flicks his tongue on you again, you throw your head back in ecstasy.

“One more time, I’ll clean it all up with my tongue.”

“You’re too hot.”

He grins, shaking his head, and then dives back down between your thighs, and his tongue is ravenous, fast on your clit, sucking it in his mouth and humming, and you’re cumming so hard you can’t breathe. Everything fades, your ears are even ringing, your head fuzzy, as you feel so much pleasure it goddamn nearly hurts, cumming all over his face and hand.

He is drinking it all up, tongue lavishing every sensitive inch after you come, he eases up, sucking his fingers of, and licking his lips, as if he could not get enough. He’s so fucking attractive, you’re so sensitive, you sit up weakly, pulling him down, kissing him so deep, tasting yourself all over his soft, firm lips. He moans, returning the kiss, then he’s on you again.

You’re falling into each other as you try to piece yourself back together, your body heaving with the effort, legs trembling how hard you’d come, and he’s kissing you so passionately. His cock is hard and eager on your thigh, you run your hand up and down his abdomen, dying to see it, dying to touch it.

“Surugu, that’s the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened.” He chuckles against your lips, holding himself up on his arms, hand cupping your face.

“You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, cumming, your little face…” He rubs your forehead. “Your brows tense.” He touches your nose. “It scrunches up all cute.” Now your lips. “And you bite the fuck out of this, leaving little teeth marks.” Now he rubs your cheeks. “They’re all flushed. And your eyes…”

“You make me feel so…” You gulp, feeling tears run down your eyes now, he softly swipes them away. “So pretty. Thank you, Suguru.”

“I’m just telling you what I see. It’s the truth.” He kisses your forehead, your eyes flutter shut.

“I’m dumb and feel things. And we barely know each other. Is that stupid?” He pauses, and your eyes meet, more serious now as he studies you.

“It’s not stupid to feel things. But, I just wore you out with orgasms.” You flush at that. “So maybe with a clearer mind we can talk about that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s foggy at the moment. But I do know, you’re absolutely amazing, Suguru Geto. And I’ve never been happier.” You whisper, and watch him tense a bit, looking down at your lips.

“I’m pretty happy at this moment.” He admits, and you exhale, worries shoved back for now of what all this meant. “You didn’t try to reach for my dick hmm?” He is grinning now. You laugh.

“I didn’t know if this was another just my pleasure lesson?” He nods.

“It is. So, good girl.” You moan, and his eyes light up. “You like being called that, don’t you?” You nod, tucking your face into his chest. “I see you’ll be submissive.”

“You think?”

“We’ll find out.” He’s stroking your hair gently, it feels entirely too good.

“I really like you? I’m sorry if that’s weird to say.”

He pauses, it’s quiet for a moment, you tense. “No, that’s not weird at all. I did just have my face buried in your pussy.”

“Oh god!” You both laugh at that, and you look up to him shyly, he’s completely pleased with himself, clearly. “You’re way too good at that.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.” He grinds his cock against you, shocking you, it’s under his shorts but you feel it, huge as fuck and thick, hot and hard. You make a noise from the back of your throat.

“I bet you are.” You whisper, rising your hips up, eliciting a hiss from him. He holds your hips down.

“You tease me.”

“You tease me!” You both sigh, kissing again, and he eases back. “Listen, I’m down for this next lesson whenever.”

“I bet you are. Insatiable little thing.” He sighs, running his hands back down your body, admiring you again.

“Sleep in bed with me?” You flutter your lashes, pouting. He laughs.

“You’re giving me puppy dog eyes!”

“Are they working?”

“Not yet.”

“Well shit.” He shakes his head at you.

“Too hard still.”

“I could-”

“Not just yet.”

“Ugh.” He’s enjoying your torture, smirking down at you, and then he helps you up, on wobbly legs. “Fuck.”

“You okay there?” He winks, and you sigh.

“Fine, totally fine.” You stumble, he laughs as he catches you. “You’re enjoying me being gelatin!”

“Maybe a bit. Let’s get you dressed, you need some help.” You roll your eyes, sighing, and soon he’s exhausted, yawning.

“Need to get up early?” You ask softly, he nods, stretching.

“I’ll be back earlier tomorrow though. We can go to the beach together, if you want to.” He caresses your face gently.

“I would love that.” You cup his face, leaning up. “Thank you so much, that was… well… fucking amazing.”

“You’re very welcome, Princess. I loved it too, so you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yes. It’s still a whole problem.” He looks down, and you do too, finding him still rock hard, the outline of him making your sore cunt throb. “Don’t look at it so hungry, freaky little virgin.”

“Hey!” You shove at him, and then you end up giggling again, have you ever giggled so much? Ever?

“Good night, Princess.” He gives you a soft kiss, and you linger for a minute, not wanting to ever leave his embrace. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, Suguru.” You head to your own room, turning off all the lights, and you turn on your side in the bed, staring out at the beautiful waves crashing along the shore.

You feel sleep pulling you quick, those orgasms have sapped all the energy you had, and the thoughts of him between your thighs made you so hot you had to shove off the blankets. Suguru was quietly snoring in the next room, and all you can think is how bad you want his arms around you.

Your feelings are scary and confusing.

You’ve got it bad.

But you’ve never felt better.

Chapter 4

Ao3 chapter:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56577688/chapters/144350392

[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [7].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. the usual amount of swearing and ruining the lives of men, jay goes through an crisis, mentions of hairballs, mc is extra menacing this chapter. WORD COUNT. 3.8k.

NOTE. here....it is..... this has been long overdue and i'm so sorry AHAHAH but i did say that i'm gonna update this whenever i want. anyhow, this is the jay chapter! and i hope this makes up for the one month long delay! enjoy, please let me know what you think<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 7 — sexy goth jellyfish.

YOU DON’T THINK YOU’LL EVER GET SICK OF WAKING UP AND GETTING LULLED BACK TO SLEEP BY THE MOST COMFORTABLE MATTRESS IN THE WORLD. Seriously. You’re considering hoarding it back to your dorm once you leave at the end of the month. 

It’s the best thing about this house. The second best thing is having your breakfast cereal already laid out for you in the kitchen the moment you step downstairs. This princess treatment is going to get you spoiled. 

The odd thing about today, however, is that your usual bowl of Cheerios is nowhere in sight.

You rub your eyes, proceeding to squint at the counter because maybe you just aren’t awake enough yet. But it’s still not there. You look over to the sink. There is no evidence that someone ate your cereal. What happened? Did your cereal robot sleep in today? Did he die? Are you gonna have to make your own bowl of cereal from now on?

“Good morning.”

Sunghoon greets you upon walking into the living room, cereal-less and still groggy. Beomgyu is also there, cross legged on the couch and playing something on his phone. “Good—” you greet back, scratching your hand underneath your shirt with a big yawn, “—morning.” For some reason, Sunghoon suddenly looks scandalized. You ignore it and stretch out your arms above your head with another yawn.

“Please— oh my god, please don’t do that. I can see your un—underwear.”

You pause mid-stretch, arms up in the air, shirt hiking up a little. “What color?” you ask. 

“Grey! Why would you ask me that?!”

“Ooh, correct.” You drop your arms down. “I thought you were kidding. Sorry, my bad.”

You grin and shoot them a peace sign. “Sunghoon, go get the PD&J,” Beomgyu announces, eyes not leaving his phone. Your expression quickly moltens into a glare and a grimace. Dammit, you’ve been careful all this time. You blame your lack of early cereal nutrients for this carelessness.

“I’ll pay later,” you grunt. “Anway, where’s Jay? He didn’t make my cereal today so I’m assuming the worst.”

“Is he your slave?” you hear Beomgyu retort. You’ll deal with him later.

Thankfully, Sunghoon is normal(?) and answers your question promptly. “Out on the deck,” he tells you, and you look over to the open glass doors past your dining setup leading up to the sunlit deck outside. You squint, unable to spot a life form of any sort at first, but after a moment of letting your eyes wander, you finally see it.

Jay is laying flat on the wooden floor, shades on, facing directly at the sun. “What’s up with him?” you ask Sunghoon. There are pieces of paper with unidentifiable contents scattered around the motionless man. You fear he might be actually dead.

“He’s photosynthesizing,” he replies. You should’ve known better than to expect a correct answer.

“He’s not a plant,” you scrunch your nose. “It’s past nine. He’s not getting any more vitamin D at this hour.”

Sunghoon simply shrugs and Beomgyu is still busy yelling profanities at his phone. You sigh. Time to take care of things yourself, so saunter over to Jay’s tanning bed and crouch down near his head, arms crossed. Is he asleep? you furrow your brows and peer down a little closer. His pitch black sunglasses are making it impossible to tell.

“Wow. This is the first time I’ve seen you upside down.”

And he’s alive.

“Hey,” you call out. “What are you doing?”

Jay has his hands symmetrically placed on his abdomen, and he remains unmoving when he opens his mouth to reply. “Brooding,” he says, and you are granted more questions than answers. 

“Don’t people usually do that in the dark?”

“I don’t conform to society’s standards.” Jay sits up, so you lean back. You watch him as he adjusts the shades on his nose bridge, ruffles his hair as if there’s a camera pointed at him, then says, “I’m absolutely fucked. I don’t know what to do.”

Woah, there. Looks like Mr. Easygoing is going through some troubled waters.

“Alright.” You shuffle out of your crouching position, dropping to paneled wood to cross your legs for a more comfortable position. “Lay it on me,” you announce, ready to sunbathe and hear a very very long story.

Jay stares at you. There’s a wrinkle between his brows. 

“Go ahead.” You nod decidedly. 

After another pause, Jay shrugs and sets his head down on your crossed legs, laying back down but with you as his new pillow. That’s not what you meant, but you roll with it. This is an opportunity to braid knots his hair. “So I took a summer class, right,” he starts, and you dig your fingers into the dark strands. “Women’s wear design. Thought It’d be useful for androgynous clothing ideas, but anyway.”

Wow, it’s so soft, you think, finishing a single braid. “And then?”

“Well. For our final project, we need to have a live model to wear our design prototypes. To test their functionality and all. A friend of mine already agreed a few weeks ago, but she suddenly canceled yesterday, so I’m pretty sure I’m fucked.”

His hair slips out of your fingers. The gears in your brain start to churn. “When’s the presentation?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Have you asked someone else?”

“Yeah. I’ve already tried calling everyone I know.”

“And?”

“I ran out of people,” he says. “I’m screwed, right?”

“I feel like there’s more to this.”

A third voice suddenly pops up and you flinch. “Holy shit,” you turn to see Heeseung sitting next to you. He looks like he’s been there for a while and you make your surprise very evident by how wide your eyes are staring at him. Jay props up, also looking at him. “When did you get here?”

Heeseung ignores you. “Jay,” he starts. You’re gonna get back at him for that. “What did you tell Eunmi when you asked for her help for the project?” 

Eunmi is a familiar name. You’re pretty sure she’s the one that stormed out of the house the other day. “I told her that I had a problem and asked if she could do me a favor.

Your brows knit together. Wait a minute. “And what else did you say?”

“I also asked if she didn’t mind taking her clothes off,” he says. “Why?”

Silence sets in. It simmers for a while. You and Heeseung share a look. “Jay,” you call out. He gets off of your lap and sits up, turning to face you. You press your lips together. How do you break it to him? 

“Dude, I’m pretty sure she thought you were asking to hook up.”

You double over and nearly let out a gasp. So the mysophobe isn’t hasn’t completely eroded his social awareness. You are both horrified and impressed, and he’s looking at you like he can hear your thoughts, visibly offended. 

“Heeseung’s right. Girlie probably thought you’d be using your measuring tape for something else outside of measuring.” They both give you a look. Maybe you gave Heeseung too much credit. “What? After measuring her tits and ass, imagine her disappointment when you went off to measure her ankles next.” 

“Well, I’m a fashion major, what did she expect?” 

“I don’t know, maybe some dressmaker-themed BDSM shit!” you huff. “Don’t you know you know anyone else that can model for you?”

“I’m pretty sure all the girls in his contacts have him blocked,” Heeseung says. 

You grunt and lean back, the deck warm on your palms. “Okay. I didn’t want to do this, but—” You sigh. Your shoulders slack, and you run your fingers through your scalp with a deep inhale. Jay and Heeseung nudge themselves closer. You give them three more seconds of suspenseful silence— one…two…three. 

“But we don’t have much of a choice.” 

His dumb sunglasses are still keeping his eyes hidden, but you’re pretty sure Jay is looking at you like you’re the second coming of Christ. On the other hand, Heeseung looks suspicious. You assure them that you’ll take care of, telling Jay to go upstairs and prepare his design prototype in case he needs to make any alterations, and Heeseung follows you to the living room, where Sunghoon and Beomgyu are still lounging around.

They turn their heads the moment you enter. Sunghoon and Heeseung’s eyes are trained on you as you approach Beomgyu, who has now settled down his phone to give you a disgruntled expression— impatient and nervous because, “what the fuck are you up to this time?” he voices out. You spare him an extra second of agony and tell him what you came for.

When the words leave your mouth, Beomgyu nearly chokes on the air.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

His eyes are wide, looking up at you. 

“What did you just say?”

“I asked if you can pretend to be a woman for a day,” you repeat. Beomgyu is looking at you like you’re insane. 

“What the fuck?”

“C’mon!” you exclaim, hopping down on the plush sofa cushion next to him and he jumps and flinches away. There’s a reason why you adore fucking with Beomgyu the most. “It’ll only be for a day! Do it for Jay! Whoa. That rhymes.”

“Why me?!” he shrieks. The reason is he fights back. He makes it all the more satisfying when he inevitably admits defeat. 

“Because you’re arguably the prettiest one of the lot!” You bounce closer, trapping his between the armrest and your enthusiasm to see him in a fucking dress. “Have I ever told you that your eyes are like, really, really pretty? And your facial structure is already so nice and elegant, I really don’t need to do anything with makeup, you’re already perfect!” 

With each word you utter and with each centimeter you lean closer, Beomgyu’s face gets increasingly redder and brighter. “Your— your flattery won’t convince me to fucking cross dress in public, you psychos!” 

Before you can get the chance to say ‘so you don’t mind doing it in private?’ Beomgyu tries pushing you off, but he’s too flustered to put any strength in. The opportunity to grab his wrists and pull him closer simply just presents itself. “C’mon!” you tug him in. “Swallow the toxic masculinity, Beomgyu! I believe in you!”

“No!”

He manages to roll off the sofa and retreat to his room. As Beomgyu’s heavy and hasty footsteps fill the air, the sound growing weaker by the second, you turn over to Sunghoon, who is sitting on the individual seat. He meets your eyes. “No,” he says before you could open your mouth. “Absolutely not.”

Sunghoon doesn’t waste a second to get up and follow Beomgyu’s escape pattern. “Sunghoon! Sunghoon, wait!” you yell after him. When he pads up the stairs, you stop at the bottom of the flight and watch as he scurries up the floor. “Are you upset that you’re the second choice? That doesn’t mean anything! You’re pretty too! I love your nose and your pretty face moles and—”

And he is gone. You turn back. “Well, I tried,” you shrug. Heeseung is wearing an expression you can only describe as severe perturbation. “Soobin and Jake aren’t home. That’s a bummer.” Then again, Jake would probably be down for it, which is no fun. And you can’t risk making Soobin cry again. Your list of crimes is already long enough. Beomgyu has the copy. 

“Of all the solutions you could come up with, I didn't think you’d go for the crossdressing route.”

Heeseung is leaning against the sofa, arms resting on top of its plush back. “Actually, I never even considered it,” he adds. “I thought you’d volunteer to model for him yourself.”

You make your way back to the living area with a yawn. Shrugging, you say, “I am.”

His brows scrunch, eyes narrowed. “Then why did you—” Heeseung stops thinking. He gives you a look of distaste. “You’re pretty evil, you know that?”

A laugh escapes your lips, and you hop on the couch Heeseung is leaning again. He visibly flinches when you do, but he doesn’t move away. So you sit up with your legs still on the sofa, knees sinking into the cushions, and you poke your nose forward so that it nearly bumps into his. 

“What are you—”

You inch your face closer. “It’s not my fault that you guys are easy targets.” You can literally hear his breath getting taken away. You flash him a wide grin. 

“Calm down. I’m moving away, moving away. No need to run.” When you flop back to lie on the sofa, Heeseung’s pink-tinted face is in full view, and he’s trying his best to hide it from you all while still trying to shoot you a glare. At some point he’s going to snap at you, for sure. Until that happens, you’re free to mess with him. “Anyway, I’ll be off to Jay’s secret lair. That is unless you man up and take one for the team, and—”

“Bye.”

Like the other two, Heeseung stomps away. You let out a huff of air. “You’re all weak as shit,” you call out. Maybe one day you’ll get the chance to give one of them a makeover. Maybe one day you can paint their nails and do their eyeliner.

Jay can’t express just how grateful he is for you.

No, really. He can’t. He tried telling you that he owes you his life when you told him not to worry about it and just go upstairs and prepare his things, but all that jumped out of his mouth is a measly, “you’re so cool,” before leaving you with Heeseung. 

That won’t do it. He’s gonna say thank you and a million more once you show up in the storage room-turned-office-slash-workspace next to his bedroom, and you’re going to be so impressed by his thanking skills. But the feeling is all muffled and fuzzy inside his chest— like a way too stubborn hairball he can’t cough out. So when you knock on his door and take a peek inside the extension of his room, all he can say is, “I made the carpet. Pretty cool, right?”

“Oh!”

Jay watches as you crouch down almost immediately upon his mention, feeling the mishmas of fabric texture with your palms. Your hands are running through a patch of faux fur, stitched to some leftover corduroy. You’re stepping on denim, and in between you and him is a large swab of linen. “Holy shit. This is pretty cool.”

There’s a thump in his chest. He’s pretty sure you’re the first person to say that after the other dozen people that have been here before you.

Then again, Jay’s pretty sure you’re the first for him on a lot of things.

He fears the hairball lodged in his throat just multiplied.

“So.” You pull yourself up from the ground. “What are we doing?”

“Oh,” he blinks. “Let me show you the clothes first. It’s a dress. It may not look like one, but trust me it is a dress—” he quickly explains, walking over to the mannequin in the corner of the room, pulling it out from the corner with a bit of a struggle because the wheels get caught in the stringy fabric of his carpet. “You can try it on, but it’s made with Eunmi’s measurements. Tell me if anything doesn’t fit right so I can alter it.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe out. “Hey, I may make fun of you guys a lot, but this time I’m being serious— this is so cool! What the hell, Jay?”

Well, that was a surprise. He didn’t think you’d like wearing something so avant garde. After Eunmi’s reaction to seeing it, he was pretty sure you’d be hesitant. “This will swallow my entire figure! I’d look like a jellyfish! You know what, I was already disappointed when you suddenly started jotting down my arm width. I’m going home. Don’t call me,” was what she said before storming off. But you’re all ooh’s and aah’s as you dig your nose into the thin sheets of intricately sewn on sheer, black fabric. 

“I was also serious about the carpet. Hold on let me try this on—”

You struggle taking the dress off of the mannequin. Jay helps you out. “You can change in my room.”

“Gotchu,” you shoot him a thumbs up, running off to the door with the dress flowing in your hands. “Don’t you dare peek. I don’t have any more spare change to throw into that stupid jar.”

“What if I pay for you?”

“Great. Door’s unlocked. Open if you have the balls.” Then you close the door with a still thinly open gap. It’s really is easy to talk to you. You don’t give him a weird look after he says a few words. He can hear your swearing slipping out of the crack in the door. Maybe he should have left you to fend for yourself against his admittedly unconventionally constructed dress.

“Need any help?” he asks, hesitantly inching towards the door.

“I can handle it— fuck, wait, where is my neck supposed to—”

After hearing a thump from inside the room, Jay believes he might have to intervene, else it’ll end up with either a torn ligament or a torn three month long project. He lands a knock on the door. “I think you need my help.”

“Give me a minute! I got this!” A minute. He starts counting down from sixty. And mentally counting down in nothing but silence and the occasional profanities from the other room is giving him some time to think. To think about how even though he’s gone through numerous dates, talked to numerous women, but for some reason they never last long. Well, all except you. You and his mother.

He’s lost count of the times he’s been ghosted (a ghost dress does sound like a pretty good idea), but the times they do communicate— they all communicate with a very familiar script:

“Maybe we should start seeing other people.”

Maybe his bonfire joke wasn’t as funny as he thought.

“Hey, Jay, is it supposed to look like this?” you call out before his sixty second countdown is over. “I think I’m wearing it wrong.”

When he opens the room to his door with a creak, his breath hitches in his throat. 

And it’s not the metaphorical hairball that’s been annoying him. Shit. Something about seeing you in a design he’s crafted with his own hands, conjured up with his own brain, is tying all sorts of knots in his stomach. Even when you put your arm in the wrong hole.

“You’re wearing it wrong.” Jay walks up to you next to the bed. The clothes you’ve shedded on in lieu of the dress he made is scattered on his mattress. He swallows hard before laying a discreet hand on your shoulder, tugging on a loose part of the clothing to reveal the armhole.

“Oh! That explains a lot,” you say, slotting in your arm into the correct gap this time. The dress still looks a little off. “I haven’t zipped it up yet. Can you help me?”

He lets out a cough. “Sure.”

Ah, what is going on with him? He’s been sleeping in this same room for nearly a year now, but for some reason the air right now is arid and stuffy and it’s making his head spin. Jay turns you around, a hand on your hip, and zips up the dress that suddenly feels like fire. That doesn’t make sense. It’s supposed to mimic water. Why the hell are his palms burning? 

The moment the dress is secured, you quickly look into the mirror. “What...what do you think?” he asks hesitantly. Maybe you don’t like it as much anymore now that it’s on you. Maybe the dress is also burning you. Maybe this design is a failure after all— and he feels that fear being confirmed when your back is turned towards him, and you spend a good minute looking at yourself in the mirror in silence. 

Dammit. The damned hairball is back in his lungs.

“I feel…” you start talking. His heart is pounding. Holy shit, he’s never felt this nervous before. “I feel like a sexy goth jellyfish. This is crazy. I love it.”

And just like that, air starts flowing back into his chest.

“Exactly!” 

He grabs you by the arm, spinning you around so he can look at you, and the dress fabric flitters along in the air. “Whoa!” you squeak out. He steadies you by the arms. You look at him, wide eyed.

Jay breath’s are bated. The sunglasses he’s got perched on his nose this entire time got crooked from the rush, falling down to the tip of his nose, revealing a look on his eyes that he didn’t know he was capable of making. “You get me,” he breathes out. “You totally get me.”

Something swirls inside the confines of his room. It’s dark. The only light coming in is from the crack into his office and the warm bedside lamp you turned on.

The both of you stay like this for a moment. Until there’s a knock on his door and a voice rips through all of the tension.

“Okay, fine!” 

It’s Beomgyu’s voice entering the room along with the sound of the door swinging open. 

Creak!

“Fucking fine, I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it as long as—”

It’s not just him. Heeseung and Sunghoon are also there, squeezed between the frame of his now open door. “Oh,” someone says out loud. He’s unsure who. “Oh.”

Somehow, Jay isn’t feeling your arms anymore. He blinks, and you’re not in front of him anymore. He turns his head and sees you in between him and the three other guys outside. “Are you ready to become a sexy jellyfish, Beomgyu?” you taunt, moving further away from him by the second. 

Beomgyu looks at him. Then you. Then keeps his eyes on you. “I never said anything. I’m gonna go—”

“C’mon! Don’t I look great? You’d look just as— no, maybe even prettier than me if you wear— wait!”

And just like that you and his dress project run away from the room. Sunghoon’s head whips back and forth between him and wherever you’ve run off to before going after you and Beomgyu as well. Heeseung stays, albeit out the door. “So, did it go well?” he asks. Jay is still staring at the spot where you’d left.

“It went well,” he replies. “I think I’m gonna get a good grade.”

Well that’s not the only conclusion he’s come up with after all that. In spite of the loud noises, the yelling outside, and the threat of his dress getting ripped apart in the crossfire, he’s sure of two things. He is not only sure that he’s gonna ace this final summer project— Jay is sure that he might have just half fallen in love with you, too.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[amourjins]

POINT OF VIEW — 01 : rude for what..

prev - next - masterlist

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as you walked into your new school, talking, laughing, and gossiping captivated the hallways. you looked around nervously, seeing so much people. god, if this is how much people you see in the hallways, then just imagine how big the school is.. (the exterior already made you feel like dying.)

you went over to a random locker, leaning onto it as you opened your phone. a minute passes, and youre immersed into your phone, not paying attention to anything around you. as you were about to text one of your friends (most likely riki), someone stood in front of you, looking down at you. how long had they been standing there for? you dont know, but you hope not for long.

“are you gonna stay on your phone all day or get off my locker?” you immediately shoved your phone back into your right pocket, looking up at the person who confronted you. she was pretty—ethereal. her features were insane. a group of 3 stood behind her, staring right at you. you snapped out of your trance, immediately moving off of her locker. “u-uh—sorry..!” great, yn ln. you embarrassed yourself not even an hour into your new school.

“who was that?” you heard one of them speak when you started to walk away, “i dont know..” one of them responded.

you finally got into your first class after so much walking, taking a step in as you took a look around. the first face you noticed? the owner of the locker that you were leaning on. aand thats when you were fucked. she immediately turned her head to you, as you two made eye contact. you turned your head away from her, turning to the teacher. “oh! yn! everyone, please welcome our new student. ln yn.” your teacher announced as you just stood there awkwardly. “umm.. yn, you can take a seat right there,” he pointed to an empty seat. you walked over, taking a seat.

“hi, im ning!” the girl to the right of you greeted, as you looked at her. wasnt she one of the girls apart of that group?, you thought. “ooh,, hi, im yn.” you replied as she giggled, “nice to meet you! friends?” she boldly asked, smiling. “yeah, sure.” you nodded, happily. you embarrassed yourself on the first day of school, but you made a new friend.. at least? its the thought that counts.

“alright! bye, everyone!” your first period teacher waved goodbye, the bell ringing as you got up from your seat, packing up before heading out. you walked through the hallways with your phone out, texting riki and yujin. as you continued to walk, you bumped into somebody, dropping your phone, “a—ah, im sor…” you looked up at the person.

WHAT THE FUCK.

you were met with the same girl who owned that damn locker.

“can you fucking watch where youre going, new girl?” she rolled her eyes, looking you up and down as you just picked up your phone from the floor and stood back up. “maybe you watch where youre going?” you bit back, “just learn how to stay out of my way, ‘kay? you seem a little obsessed,” she clicked her tongue, looking you up and down once more before walking away, leaving you stunned.

“..that bitch,” you murmured.

-

TAGLIST (open!) — @modanisgf @aeriniee @jongocat @sunshinez4 @aeriigfs @yeetaberry127 @mxl633 @multiliker @lisaswifey @bing-uzzz @yukianism @lettertolovers @gtfoiydlyj

a/n ; doesnt really make sense atm but youll see what i mean next chapter guys!

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part VIII)

Pairing | Eddie x shy!reader Warnings | 18+ only. Do not interact if you are underage. Roleplay (PrincessxWannabe Usurper lmao), sexual fantasies (including rockstarxgroupie), Eddie says some weird possessive stuff but reader likes it, oral (M receiving), P in V sex, dom!Eddie, sexual guilt as per, there’s aftercare. Word Count | 10,400 A/N | Nobody ask me about the timeline of this story, either in the fic or how long it takes me to write it. Taglist Previous Chapter

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The air is stuffy, despite the growing chill outside. The last days of Summer are at least a week gone now, and with Autumn comes heated stores. An ABBA song is playing on the main floor, filtering through enough for you to make out the tune. It’s the sort of thing your Mom plays in the car all the time, your mind following the words even though you can’t quite hear them over the buzzing ceiling lights. 

I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it. Slipping through my fingers- 

The curtains pull back, the sound of metal over metal dragging you to full attention. May’s eyes are bright with excitement as she twirls, showing off how the strapless black dress fits around her waist and flares out at her hips. 

“It’s perfect, right?” She says, smoothing it down only to twirl and puff the skirt up again. “Ooh, let me see with the jacket.” 

You search through the bag at your feet for the cropped jacket she’d found earlier, then watch as she pulls it over her shoulders. She fluffs her hair and poses in the mirror at the end of the changing room hallway. “I mean it actually is perfect, right?”

“For sure, you can totally see who you are already.” 

“Right? And then I can just backcomb my hair a little. My Mom’s gonna lend me her scarf. God knows what earrings I’ll wear, but I can work it out. Definitely can’t get anything new after this,” she finishes, turning her head and pulling at the tag on her back to double check the price. She pulls a face before tucking it away gingerly.

“That bad?” 

“That bad. Even with 30% off.” May smooths her hands over the skirt again, turning once more to the mirror. Her smile lights up her pretty face. “But totally worth it.” 

Once the dress is folded and wrapped in tissue paper by the woman at the counter, paid for with what seems like every spare penny in May’s purse, attention moves to your costume. “Okay, Fairy God Mother,” May says, linking her arm with yours. “Game plan. Where do we need to go?”

“I think just the costume store. I have a blue dress I can use. But I’d like some wings and a wand. Maybe a tiara, if I can afford it.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna look so cute. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Tommy’s party?”

“The whole reason I’m dressing up is for Grace,” you reason, spotting the orange banner reading City of Fright, which appears in the same spot every year mid-September and vanishes November first. 

Gone are ABBA’s lilting tones, replaced with stock Halloween music, the occasional creepy laugh and thunder clap. The entire front of the store is complete costumes, wrapped up in plastic and hanging on metal rods, but once you reach the shelves at the back, you are surrounded by an array of vampire teeth, witches hats and face paints. 

“Eddie’s renting Theatre of Blood,” you tell her, not waiting for a reaction before launching into a prepared defence. “It sounds really good. It’s about an actor who takes revenge on his critics by murdering them like Shakespearian deaths - drowning in Malmsey wine, that kind of thing. He picked it cause, you know, he thought I’d like it.” 

“Okay, but she’ll be in bed by what? Eight?” May asks, wandering around the table of paraphernalia as you start thumbing through fairy wings piled next to fake blood bags, searching for the right blue. “You could come after.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she sighs softly. “Okay, I will say it’s kind of cute that he picked that. In a weird, not really that cute cause it’s a horror movie about gruesome murders, sort of way.” 

You stifle a grin, chancing a look at her over the table. “That sounded…almost like a compliment?”

“Almost,” she agrees, walking back round to your side. Then, before you can answer, she has seized a shiny silver plastic tiara and is reaching out to place it gently on your hair. “There. Fit for a Princess.”

You shake your head, laughing. “What about a Fairy Godmother?”

May hums, grabbing a set of the net and wire wings and pulling them over her arms. “I’m the fairy now!” She declares, raising her chin and going up on tiptoes to whirl around the racks, wings shaking behind her. “Here to make all your Halloween costume dreams come true!” 

Your heart warms, a giggle escaping as she peers curiously at the rubber masks and cat ears in character, mumbling about the strange habits of humans. 

“Oh please, fairy godmother! I need a wand if I’m going to look anything like the real thing!” 

“A wand, of course!” She cries dramatically. “No true fairy would be seen dead without their wand.” You watch her scurry on tip toe around until she comes to a display of wands of various colours, topped by stars and hearts, sequined tassels and glittery handles. She wiggles her fingers above them, picks out one with a simple silver star and travels back to you gracefully. You take it from her with a flourish. “There, and now your wings.” She helps you into your own pair, then turns and throws a graceful hand into the air. “Now, we fly!” 

You flit about after her, laughing at her with every pause she takes to frown disapprovingly at fake scars and rubber spiders. She stops in front of a Tinkerbell costume, pointing with a surprised smile at the model on the package. “Hey, I know her!”

You snort a laugh and it sets her off, all attempts to stifle your laughter only making it worse. Your giggles are only beginning to settle when you feel the sudden awareness of being watched tickle the back of your neck. 

“Uh, hi girls.” 

Your heart drops. Caroline stands, a hand over her mouth, barely covering the smirk. “You look like you’re having…fun.”

Suddenly, the clear elastic of the wings is too tight around your shoulders. You can feel the crooked angle of the tiara atop your head, close to slipping off entirely. The wand in your hand isn’t silver now, just chipped paint on plastic. 

Next to you, May is wrenching off her wings, laughing airily. “Just messing around,” she assures, folding them up and holding them with a tight fist at her hip. “You costume shopping?”

Caroline looks around at where you are. “I mean, obviously. Not for me, though, for Ethan,” she sighs. “You know boys, no interest in shopping.” She sets her stare on you, eyes scanning from the crooked tiara downwards. “Are you girls dressing up together?”

Your throat feels blocked, leaving you just to shake your head. May answers for you both. “No, no. Like I said, we’re just messing around. So we should probably put this stuff back.” She slides her wings into the space between some hanging masks before elbowing you into action. You’ve abandoned the tiara and wand and are in the process of sliding off the wings when she adds, coolly, “I’m actually going as Madonna.��

Caroline’s smirk falls, replaced at terrifying speed with a deep frown. “What? You can’t, I’m doing Madonna. I’ve got a veil and everything. Ethan’s going to be Sean Penn.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going as her in Desperately Seeking Susan, so it’ll be, like, totally different.”

“But I don’t think there should be two Madonna’s,” Caroline continues, almost sounding sympathetic. She crosses her arms, shrugging. “You’ll just have to go as somebody else.”

“Oh,” May says, shoulders falling. “Um, right. I get what you mean.”

You’re not in the habit of arguing with Caroline. It’s been easier, historically, not to contradict her or answer back. But you can feel May deflating beside you, and it tumbles out. “But you won’t look similar or anything, they’re completely different costumes.”

“They’re not though.” She answers with finality. “They’re both Madonna, and the last thing we want is comparisons, right? People talking about who wears it better all night?”

May nods. “You’re right. Totally. I’ll think of something else. No worries.”

“But May, your dress! You can’t return it now, it was on sale!” 

“It’s fine,” May snaps before smiling close mouthed at Caroline. “I can find something else to wear, no issue.”

“You could be fairies together!” Caroline says. “I bet the guys at Tommy’s party would love that.”

“No, no, like I said, we were just messing around,” May says. “Not really my thing. And anyway, she’s not coming on Friday.”

“Oh no!” Caroline pushes her bottom lip out into a pout. “But I haven’t seen you outside of school in ages!”

“I’m babysitting,” you explain, clutching your removed wings in your fists. 

“Oh sure you are, not spending the night with your boyfriend. We hardly see you anymore, I feel like there must be so much detail we’ve all been missing out on. You’ll have to come on the next girls trip, right May? So we can hear all about you and…Eddie.”

Your heart pounds as May nods. “Yeah,” she answers. “Eddie can’t have all your time.”

“Perfect. Well, let me know what you end up doing, May! See you later, girls!”

She flounces away, and May hides her face in her hands. “I can’t believe she saw me doing that.” 

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not!” She says, throwing her hands up. Her eyes shine with frustrated tears. “It’s not okay! Not for me, anyway. It’s different for you, people already think you’re weird.” 

You blink at your friend. Then you look down at the speckled linoleum floor, watch the spots fuzz and blend into each other as the lump in your throat builds. Before five seconds have passed, her arms appear at your sides, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean that.”

But you know that she did. You know that’s exactly what she thinks. 

For the moment you have to think about what you say now, you imagine calling her out on this. Pushing her away and telling her that she doesn’t have to spend any more time with you, given you embarrass her so much. You’d buy your fairy wings and your crown, walk out with your head held high. 

Maybe she’d call after you, apologise again, say that losing you isn’t worth impressing Caroline or sitting at the cheerleader table.

But maybe any pain she’d feel at the prospect of your friendship ending would only bring out her anger. Maybe she’d swear to never speak to you again. 

If you were somebody else, someone who didn’t love May, maybe you’d take that risk. But you are you, and you’ve loved May since you were five. To you, the only thing worse than feeling hurt yourself is the thought of hurting her back.

So you shake your head at her shoulder, blink away tears and squeeze her tight in your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, pulling away from her collar that smells the way being seven smelled. You release her, and in turn her arms fall from you. “I get it, you’re just stressed.”

“I know! I don’t know what I’m going to do about my costume!” 

Your heart pangs. You swallow the lump in your throat that’s trying to rise back up. “Well, at least the dress is black,” you say, sniffing quick and quiet. You drag your hands over your eyes, clearing away the wetness clinging to your bottom lashes. Stop it, you think. Stop crying. “Let’s return the jacket, yeah? Then you’ll have money for a witch hat or something.” 

May nods slowly as she thinks it through. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, that works.” She gives you a relieved smile. “God, what would I do without you? Let’s go.”

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“Well, I didn’t think I wanted glasses because Katie has glasses,” Grace explains, holding her plastic pumpkin, now close to overflowing with candy, in both hands at her stomach. She looks at you with a look too knowing for a seven year old, then continues. “Katie is a tattle tale.”

“I see,” you nod. 

“But I want ones like Jessica’s!” She cries, arms extending with the weight of her treasure trove before she pulls it back up. “They go dark in the sun!”

“It’s not the same,” she whines. “And then when we went to the optom- uhm.”

“But you already have sunglasses,” you reason, picturing the little red plastic pair you’ve had to run back for when out on walks many times. Grace hefts the pumpkin again and you give in, lifting the bag from her grasp and burying your wand in with the candy. You soften when she grabs your hand with a deep sigh.

“The optometrist?”

“Yeah, when we went to see him, he said my eyes were perfect!”

“Well, that’s good.”

“No!” She yells, dramatically, pulling on your arm with her whole weight until you have to  heave yourself back up. You stifle a giggle at her distraught expression. “Because now I’ll never get glasses, and everybody has them.”

“Well, first of all, I’m sure not everybody has them,” you say, smiling down at her grumpy face. “And secondly, you shouldn’t just want something like glasses because other people have them, even if it was everybody else. You can’t just live your life just trying to be like everyone around you.”

“I know,” she mumbles. Then, catching your raised eyebrow, “I know!”

You round the corner to her street, and by the time you’re approaching her house, she’s moved comfortably on to the next topic of her candy eating schedule for the next three days. “Because Jessica saves all her Skittles for last,” Grace explains, her position now firmly against being anything like Jessica. “Which is stupid, because you should have the best candy first.”

“Mm? Why’s that?”

Grace looks at you with a frown. “Because the best comes first,” she tells you, with the tone of somebody kindly trying to hold in their frustration with an imbecile. 

“Of course, silly of me to ask. Hi, Mrs. Miller!”

Grace’s Mom was clearly waiting for you near the front door, already out and standing on the front steps as you walk up the front path. Grace holds her hands out to take her bucket back, launching forward when she’s got ahold of it. “Mom! Look at all my candy!”

“Whoa! There’s no way you’ll be able to eat all that!” Her Mom says, eyes comically wide. “Think you need someone to help you out, hm?”

Grace shrieks indignantly, running under her Mom’s arm inside and clambering up the stairs out of sight without a bye nor leave for you. 

“Everything went okay?” Her Mom asks, smiling when you give her your usual answer, all fine. “Will you be okay getting home? I can get her back down if you need a ride.”

“Oh, um,” you check either side of the street, feeling suddenly warmed inside at the sight of Eddie’s van parked at the end of the road. Now that you’re concentrating on it, you’re sure you can hear the music blasting behind glass. “No, it’s okay. That’s my boyfriend.”

“Ah, Eddie.” She smiles, then smacks her teeth as she, too, registers his music. “Maybe tell him to keep it down next time? I don’t mind but I already get monthly phone calls from Mrs O’Hara about the sound of the lawnmower.” 

“Oh, sorry. I’ll do that,” 

“Okay,” she says, calling after you as you start up a fast pace towards Eddie. “You have a good night!”

You pull your cardigan sleeves down over your hands to fight the chill as you move, smiling when you can properly make out Eddie sitting in the front seat. He had a special D&D night planned when he dropped you off at Grace’s earlier. While your costume sat folded in your bag all day, he’d gone to school dressed all in black, even his white Reeboks swapped out for a pair of knockoff doc martens he’d launched himself towards when he caught sight of them at the thrift store. They’d fit him just fine with three pairs of socks.

This morning, sitting in his van, he’d barely managed to control his excited twitches while you lined his eyes with a cheap black pencil from the drugstore. Your work is a little smudged now, but on him, it looks even better than before. Which makes sense, you think. Eddie doesn’t suit neat lines. 

“Hi Princess!” He calls, turning the music down enough that his excitement is just audible through the glass as you approach. 

“Not a Princess,” you remind him as you climb in, turning your back to shake your shoulders and display the blue net wings. “A Fairy God Mother.” You settle back into the seat, shivering away the chill that had gooseflesh rising over your body. Eddie rubs your arm over your cardigan, and you take the opportunity to grab his hand. As much as you want to warm your cold fingers, it’s mainly just to touch him. “How was the game?”

His grin turns sharp as he leans back in his chair, chin tilted up. “So fucking good. I have them right where I want them. I thought for a second Lucas had me worked out. He hesitated when they were getting to the caves, but then he just went along with it. I can’t wait till next week.” He lets go of your hand long enough to start up the van before returning his open palm to the space between you for you to take hold of him again. “How is Princess Grace?”

“Increasingly despotic. She executed like five of her toys before we went out trick or treating.” 

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “What for?” 

“Well, her not-so-wise Fairy God Mother,” you start, gesturing to yourself. “Made the mistake of telling her about royal food tasters? Now there’s a poisoning attempt every few days.” 

“Very active imagination, this girl. Violent, but active.”

“Mm, I think most girls play that way. When I was little- Well, me and May, we’d act like witches sometimes? And make potions out of mud and sticks and stuff. And talk about who we would curse.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “And which poor soul had earned this spite, pray tell?” 

“Did you ever have Mr Gilmour?”

“Oh, Gilmour, yeah, I fuckin' hated that guy!” Eddie yells. His eyebrows furrow. “I threw up during gym in seventh grade and the sadistic prick made me finish running a mile.” 

“Yeah, I forgot about that till now.” His brows stay taught for a second longer, then he shakes his head a little, tapping his fingers along your knuckles. “Too bad I didn’t have you around then, coulda cursed him for me a little earlier.”

“Oh, Eddie, that’s horrible.”

“I would have,” you promise. “But you were telling me about the game. Did you get Dustin with the, um, venom troll?”

“Not yet. We didn’t get as far as I’d have wanted before they had to go. I mean, what fourteen year old has a curfew? I didn’t, and I turned out alright. But I’ll get him next week. I can’t wait to see his face - that little punk thinks he’s so smart, but he is pre-dictable.”

Eddie continues describing the campaign, the traps he’s set for them that he’s sure they’ll run into, the whole drive to his place, excited and animated as he usually is on the rare occasion you get to see him after Hellfire, wound up from the events of the day. He only slows down when you’re settled on his couch. Sneakers left at the door, wings, tiara, and wand abandoned on the kitchen table, wrapped up in his arms as the opening titles of Theatre of Blood play. 

Eddie’s so warm, and unusually still when you sit with him like this. Being cuddled up to him puts you in mind of your aunt’s black cat. She spends the first couple hours of every visit pretending that she isn’t interested in being anywhere near you. Then, after letting her sniff your hand, rubbing gently between her ears, she darts up on your lap, her soft heat spreading through you. 

Eddie might not admit it, at least not verbally, but he likes being petted the same way. You’ve seen his eyes flutter when you play with his hair, heard the gentle sighs he lets out when you touch his cheek. Now, leaning into his chest, rubbing lazily at his torso, you can feel the way his body relaxes into the couch under your touch. It makes you smile at the TV even as Vincent Price swears revenge on all his critics.

You turn your head just a little, trying to be subtle as much as possible so you can look at him properly. Eddie’s eyes, which in sunlight can be bright as copper, are dark and focused in the electric light of the TV. The light freckles that dotted the tops of his cheeks and nose during Summer have faded from the cloudy days and early sunsets, leaving only his soft pale skin. His lips, as always, are soft looking and pink, still shiny from the last time his tongue peeked out, set in a near constant subtle pout. 

You sigh gently, and in turn breathe in the remnants of smoke and laundry detergent from his shirt, the fading spice of his drugstore aftershave.

“You know I picked this movie out special,” he says, only his eyes moving to fix you with a mockingly suspicious expression. “Vincent’s a master.”

You’re surprised to find you’re not ashamed at having been caught. “M’just looking at you.”

“Therein lies the problem, sweet thing. One minute you’re just looking. Next thing I know my head’s trapped between your thighs.” This time he leans in properly. “Wicked temptress.” He whispers it, his breath warming your face. 

You think he’ll kiss you then, but instead he relaxes back into the couch with a sigh. “M’just lucky you weren’t dressed up all day.” His hand tugs at the hem of your skirt, then spreads out just above your knee. “I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else. It’s a miracle I even got the movie playing instead of trying to touch you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you answer, trying not to sound too eager. 

“I bet,” he says, eyes shining. Then his face turns serious, palm coming to his heart. “But Eddie the Chivalrous would never touch a Princess without properly wooing her first.” His eyes scan over your face quickly. “I guess that means we need to finish the movie.”

He’s teasing you. He wants to push, see how much he can get you to say, if you’ll ask him outright to just touch you the way you want. Warring feelings compete to decide what you do next. Maybe months ago, when you first started dating Eddie, you would have pressed your thighs together and settled in to finish the film. A part of you still calls for that, screams that whatever you say won’t be right. 

You stare at Eddie now. His eyes still lined dark, the smirk he’s trying to hide. Your toes curl just looking at him, and the thought escapes naturally. “You don’t look like Eddie the Chivalrous, right now.” 

Eddie blinks slowly. His head tilts. “No? Who do I look like, then?” 

Now, something like shame creeps back in, and you wish you’d just settled down to watch the movie.

You haven’t ever put a name to it before. In your fantasies, the ones that appear unprompted when you’re alone in your bed and you haven’t been able to touch him in a couple days, Eddie’s always Eddie, but sometimes just a little different. 

Maybe Eddie the Chivalrous is the right name for how you first thought about him like that, calling you Princess as usual but meaning it. You thought about him as your knight and guard, sworn to protect you, breaking all the rules by laying you down and treating you gently, better than any lord or Prince you could be promised to.

Then you’d think about his laugh, the one that comes out when you moan a little loud, or lose your patience and try to direct his hands or his tongue to where you need him. The mocking gasp and teasing tone that often comes along with it, you want it bad, huh, Princess? You think about an Eddie who’s like that all the time, teasingly mean with you, dark and dangerous to everyone else, finding you alone in your soft bed, holding your hands above your head and- and-

People already think you’re weird.

You give in to the sudden hot shame, pressing your face to Eddie’s chest lest he read your expression so perfectly that he works it all out. You whisper into his shirt, more to yourself than him. “I’m so weird.” 

“Well, s’a good thing you’re with me then, mm?” He says, big hand moving to stroke the back of your neck. “Cause if you got a fantasy, like, something you think about when I’m not around. You know I won’t judge you for it, right?” 

“I know.” It comes out muffled against his shirt but it’s certain. It’s instinctual, now. You’re as sure that you don’t need to worry about Eddie judging you as you are that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. More and more, you find yourself talking to him the way you talk to yourself in your head. Easy and free, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this is different. “It’s just- It’s like-” You sigh, searching for the words that won’t come. 

He hums, still rubbing your neck. “Maybe I could- I mean, do you…wanna hear one ‘a mine?” You emerge from your hiding place, leaning back into his hand to gauge how serious he is. Eddie’s eyes crinkle at the sides at having coaxed you into looking at him again. “Yeah?”  

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” he echoes. Eddie searches his side for the remote first, pausing Vincent in the middle of another monologue. “Okay. Well, yeah, sometimes I think about- Wait no, gotta set the scene. I’ve just played maybe the best show of my life. Nothing too big,” he continues, giving you a serious look. “I’m not a sell out. We’re talking the smaller arenas, you know? Anyway, after, when I get backstage, feeling like hot shit, there’s this girl. Prettiest I’ve ever seen. And she’s wearing the band’s shirt.”

“And she’s a little shy. Can barely look me in the eye-” He catches you just as your gaze moves to his collar, pulling you back to staring, helpless, into his dark eyes. Eddie takes your hand from where it was playing with the hem of his shirt, weaving your fingers together. “She’s kinda fidgety, too.”

You swallow. “Me?”

“You, sweet thing. S’always you.” You bite the gum behind your bottom lip, holding back from grinning too much. You squirm a little under his gaze, waiting for him to speak again. “And you tell me you’ve been waiting for me,” Eddie says, voice smooth and quiet. “You tell me you’re my biggest fan. And you can’t quite say everything you wanna say, but it doesn’t matter, cause I’ve got you worked out. So I get real close,” he says, his face disappearing as his mouth moves towards your ear, “and I ask if you want me to touch you?”

“And I do,” you continue for him, shivering again at the little groan Eddie lets escape from his throat. 

“Mm hm, real bad.” His eyes reappear, scanning over each part of your face. “So bad you wanna earn it. Wanna show me I was right to pick you and not some other girl. You get on your knees for me.” Eddie licks his lips quick. “And I know you’re kinda inexperienced, but it’s good, the best I’ve ever had. You know why?” You shake your head, gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth. You watch his lips move around his words. “Cause you’re so fucking grateful for it.” 

“Mm. And when I decide you’ve earned it, I lay you back on a couch somewhere. A green room or a tour bus or something. And I show you you were right to wait for me.” You shiver. It’s a delicious thrill to picture Eddie that way, completely new to you, a total stranger, yet so sure of what he can take. “And after that?” He says, giving the back of your neck a squeeze. “I keep you.”

“Eddie.” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, wishing he would touch you there now, or even put you on your knees the way he wants so you could show him you’re as grateful for him here and now as you are in his fantasy. 

The fantasy fades when Eddie kisses you. With the press of his lips, the taste of Dr Pepper on his tongue, he’s your Eddie again, familiar and perfect. You’re still floating back to Earth when he pulls away. “Your turn.”

You flinch, crashing to the ground instead. “What?”

“You like Latin, right? It’s quid pro quo, sweetheart. I show you mine, you show me yours. Tit for tat. That was the deal.”

“It was implied.” Eddie answers breezily. Then, with his thumb rubbing gently at the back of your hand. “C’mon. Try? You liked mine, right?” You give a barely noticeable nod, but Eddie catches it. “Yeah. And I bet I’ll like yours.”

“There was no deal!”

“I can’t- I don’t have it all, like, thought out the way you do.”

“Well, I’m a storyteller by trade,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. “All my sex fantasies have lore. And we can build on yours, if it needs it.Alright. I’m not Eddie the Chivalrous right now. Who am I?” He tilts his chin to where you have started playing with his rings, twisting each round his fingers in turn. “Apart from Eddie the Stress Toy.”

“It’s not- You’re just-” You swallow, rubbing your thumb over the metal skull sitting where a wedding ring would go. “You’re just somebody…somebody I shouldn’t want.”

“Intriguing. And you are?” Your face flames. You mumble it, barely opening your lips, and Eddie squints. “Mm?”

You sigh. “Princess.”

“Always,” Eddie replies, ducking his head to make sure you see his face, reassuringly still smiling. “Okay. I can work with this. Maybe I'm…Eddie the Banished. I tried to take power for myself by force but I failed.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses the thin skin at your wrist. “And I’ve returned, because I realised I don’t need to win a battle. I just have to…take the Princess?”

You clench around nothing. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, yeah. C’mon, sweet thing.” 

Your gaze follows him as he stands. “You want- Right now?”

“Why not? We’re all dressed up. The time is now.” Eddie pauses his excitement when he registers the fact you’re still sitting. “If…if you want.”

“I do,” you breathe. “But I can’t, y’know, talk like you.” You just know Eddie already has some dialogue thought up, things he can say as the character he’s just come up with that will make you dizzy. “I’ll get stuck.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,” Eddie says, squatting down in front of you, hands spread out on your knees. “I don’t mind taking the lead. Besides, the Princess would be kinda nervous anyway, right? If you’re not supposed to want me. The outlaw, the traitor. You’ve been told about all the terrible things I’ve done, what I tried to do for power. Now you feel guilty about what you really want from me. And I’ve been thinking about you while I’ve been on the run, living rough- You know, this is good stuff,” he says, interrupting himself and looking round. “You got a pen? I should maybe write some of this down- No. After, sorry.” He gives you a sheepish grin, then leans in close. “Don’t think there’s much chance I’ll forget this, anyway.” 

He stands then, hand extended to you with wiggling fingers for you to take and let him guide you through to his room. Eddie hums when his door is closed, shutting out the world beyond the frame. “Shoulda done this at yours,” he says, sitting you down on the mattress. “In your pretty Princess bed.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say breathlessly, meaning it entirely. All that matters is it’s him. He’s the only person you could do something like this with. 

“Okay, I need a little more. You shouldn’t want me, I’m…morally grey, let’s say. Chaotic neutral. Am I mean?”

“Kinda,” you answer. “You’re…selfish?”

“Selfish,” he repeats. 

“Just like, y’know. It’s like-” Eddie’s hands spread at the sides of your thighs, teasing the skin at the hem of your skirt. You want them everywhere. “You know I want you. That I’ll…do things for you. And you take advantage. ”

There’s a pause. “I think I’m following. Things somebody like you shouldn’t do?” You nod quickly, cheeks burning as you watch him work it out. “You wanna get your mouth on me, Princess?”

You fight the instinct to hide, the urge to look away, the voice telling you to deny everything, take it back. Instead, you start playing with the hem of his shirt again, soft cotton between your fingers.  

“Mm hm.”

“Shit. Okay. Anything-” His voice cracks a touch, and he clears his throat before he speaks again. “Anything else?”

“It’s not like- Even though you’re mean, you still- With me, you feel-” Now you do have to look away, staring at where your fingers are fiddling with the black fabric. He can read you too well, and you don’t want him to see exactly what you want from him. “You-”

You love me. 

“I feel…how I feel about you?” He suggests.

You bite the gum behind your lip to stop yourself asking exactly what that means. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good. Hard to pretend anything else.” Eddie leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, long enough that your whole body relaxes into it, your mind settling on Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. When he pulls away, it’s easy to answer his question. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie stands to full height, his shoulders back. He tilts his head, expression shifting. From your Eddie, with chestnut eyes and his perfect, dimpled smile, to a smirking man with a dark gaze excited to ruin you. 

“I’ve been looking for you, Princess,” he says, voice smooth and confident. A thrilled shiver runs up your spine. “Knew I’d find you eventually, but I could only hope I’d find you like this. All alone.” He takes a step towards you. “Unprotected-”

“Eddie,” you whisper. 

Softness peaks through with raised eyebrows. “Good?” You nod quickly, and it disappears again as he slinks closer towards you. “I missed you, while I was away,” he tells you, soft and teasing. “Did you miss me?”

“I-” You swallow. You’re used to repeating back what Eddie says to you, in times like this, letting him guide you through everything he wants to hear from you. But you don’t want to just watch him do this for you. “No.”

Eddie blinks, surprised, then he puts on a mockingly hurt face, hand over his heart. “No? You wound me, Princess.” That same hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb strokes gently under your eye and you can’t help but lean into him. “Or you would, if I believed you.” He tilts your head up to see him properly, standing over you. “You think I didn’t see the way you’d look at me, before I left?”

Your fingers twitch to reach out and brush at the ends of his hair as it falls towards you, but you keep them at your sides on the bed, curling into the sheets. “You didn’t leave, you-”

“Left, banished, driven out; it all comes to the same end, mm?” His eyes scan your face, down your dress and back up. “That’s you and me, Princess. Here, alone together. You gonna pretend you never wanted that?”

His thumb, callused and warm, keeps rubbing over your cheek. “I can’t want it”

“No, you can,” he presses. Eddie, your Eddie, would sit with you now, squat in front of you to talk to you at the same level. Now, his grip on your jaw tightens just enough to remind you that he could stop you looking away if you tried. “Cause I’ve had time to think about it.”

“While you were hiding in the woods?”

“While I was regrouping,” he corrects. “I realised something. I went about it all wrong.” he tells you. “It was foolish of me to try and use force to get what I want. Not when you were right here. Waiting for me.”

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, then presses inside to the tip of your tongue. 

“If I make you mine, everything else follows. That’s right, isn’t it?” He nods slowly until you copy him. “The throne, power, vengeance on everyone who tried to hold me back. And you, in my bed every night. All day if I wanted.” He pulls at your lip again as he steals his thumb back, leaning in until his breath is warm against your cheeks. “That sounds nice. Doesn't it, Princess?” You glance at his lips, wanting him to kiss you now, to take it from you. Eddie shakes his head, drawing your gaze back to his. “I wanna hear you say it. You wanted me to touch you, just like this, and more, didn’t you? Wanted me to show you how to make me happy?”

You can feel your heartbeat heavy in your chest, your breath coming quicker. Only Eddie could do this, have you convinced of a story which before tonight only existed half formed in the fantasies of your bedroom. You can feel the internal conflict as if it really is your duty to say no, and your heart’s only desire to give your next answer.

“Yes, Eddie.”

He gives you a kiss that’s half teeth, dragging at your bottom lip. Even this is different. You’re used to the gentle start, feeling him smile on your mouth. He breathes deep through his nose, pulls from you so suddenly that you make to follow him until he presses a hand to your shoulder. 

“And I will. Get on the floor.” Eddie steps back, and it doesn’t even occur to argue with him now. You slide off the mattress easily, knees falling to the carpet without looking away from him. There’s a pause. He speaks quietly, as if he doesn’t want an invisible audience to hear. “You comfy? You want the pillow?” 

“No,” you answer, heart aching. “I’m okay.” 

“Okay.”

You watch the way he steels his face again, looking at you on your knees in front of him like that’s where you’re meant to be. His hands work at his belt, a soft hiss escaping when he presses his palm down the front of his pants. His head tilts back, displaying his thick neck, the rising pinkness across his pale throat, and he breathes a laugh. “Now, Princess- Wait!” You jump at the suddenness of Eddie pulling his hand from his pants only to clasp them at his waist as he half-jogs towards the door. “Just a second. Don’t move!” 

Eddie disappears through the door, mumbling to himself. His words are faint but it’s clear enough that he is looking for something. You close your eyes, focusing on his voice, however fuzzy. You never thought you could have something like this. Someone like Eddie. Someone safe. So safe that you can abandon yourself to fulfilling a silly fantasy thought up under the covers of your bed. 

Something catches your hair and you open your eyes to find him standing over you again. The tip of his tongue curls over his top lip as he places the plastic silver tiara just so on your head. When it’s as he wants it, his teeth show with his smile. “Perfect,” he says, pressing two fingers to your chin and turning your head each way. “My Princess, mm? I’m going to show you what it is to be mine.”

Eddie reaches into his pants to pull himself free. His hand drags over the shaft, quick and dirty, just for a moment’s relief if the clench of his jaw the second he stops is any indicator. 

You think you know what to do now, tipping your chin, opening your mouth, ready to take him. Only he angles his head away from your tongue. You peer up at him in confusion, watch the way his excitement plays out on his face. “C’mere, Princess.” 

Cupping your cheek with his spare hand, he guides you to the base of his cock, where he is softest. Your lips graze the fuzzy skin of his balls and Eddie makes a noise that has you squirming for the lightest touch between your legs. You kiss delicately, blinking up at him, watching his thumb rub over the head of his cock, catching wetness to ease the slow movement of his hand. He taps his fingers on your cheek gently. “Open up. Want your tongue.”

Your toes curl. You want to taste him here, aching at the smell of him; like his neck at the end of the day in Summer, his sweat and musk, fading body wash. You want to make Eddie feel good so badly, you think you might do whatever he asks as long as he looks at you the way he is now. 

You reach for him, palm settling on his knee where denim meets exposed skin. Opening your mouth, you lick quickly at the seam of his balls, taste salt on soft skin. He groans, fingers flexing around your jaw. “That’s it,” he encourages. “Fuck yes,” Eddie bites out when you lick broad and wet up to the base of his cock, thinking of his wide tongue drawing upwards from your pussy to your clit. “Fuck, yes.” 

He draws you back, smiling down at you. It makes your face burn, but you struggle between looking him in the eyes and staring at his cock. His balls are pink and wet from your attention, his hand moves steadily over his length, drawing folds of skin over his thick head and back.

“Want you to suck on them a little,” he tells you. The pause he leaves gives a moment for you to squeeze at his knee, as if presenting your open mouth wouldn’t be enough to show your agreement. He drags the weight of his balls over your chin to your wet tongue, listing off curses when your lips close just enough to suck gently. Eddie’s hand moves faster over his length, the curve of his fingers brushing your forehead with each tug.

Eddie’s groans are all that matter now. His sack is heavy, falling past your lips the wider you open your mouth. “So fuckin’ full cause of you,” Eddie bites. You hum, closing your eyes, his hips stutter. First towards the warmth of your mouth and then away entirely, replacing his sack with the head of his cock tapping against your tongue.

Eddie gasps when you lap at his leaking tip. “Can I-” He pauses, rephrases, puts on the right tone. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, Princess.” 

He watches you carefully, gives you time to tell him no. You squeeze his knee once more, gaze moving from his dark eyes to his cock. You press a quick kiss to the swollen head, a darker pink than the rest of him where it peeks through folds of skin, then let him press your head back against the mattress. 

Eddie’s cock glides smoothly over your tongue to the top of your throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, rolling his hips. “M’starting to think this is what you wanted the whole time.” He eases further, just past the entrance of your throat. It’s easier, like this. You are more open to him with your head tilted back this way. He holds himself in the warmth of your mouth, watching you blinking back tears to try and keep him clear in your gaze. Finally your throat protests, and Eddie draws back till you can suck at his head, the exposed length of his cock shining with your spit. You gaze at him, wanting him to be proud of you for taking him deeper than you have before. He makes a soft encouraging noise, but Eddie like this won’t give you the validation you want so easily. “Teased me for so long. I think I deserve to take what I want, now.”

Eddie thrusts slowly at first, easing you in despite his words. The hand that was on your cheek now stroking at your heated forehead. 

You like it like this. 

You liked having him in your mouth the first time, and every time after that. Like watching him shake, hearing him groan and whine, and knowing that you’re the one making him like that. You like focusing on him; lick here, nip there, let him feel you moan around him. Now, you don’t even have to think about how best to please him. You can focus on your breathing, taking air in through your nose when he pulls back enough. And on Eddie and how he looks as he takes his pleasure from you. 

Eddie’s so beautiful. His dark hair frizzes around his face, eyes crinkling at the sides when he closes them and groans into the air. His neck is pink, a pretty blush crawling up to his cheeks as his thrusts speed up. “We’re gonna do this all the time, Princess, you hear me?” He grits, fingers curling into the sheets at the side of your head. You moan in answer, pleased when it makes his cock twitch in your mouth, his tip dipping deep enough past the entrance of your throat that you can’t blink away the wetness that springs to your eyes. “You’re gonna be in my bed all the time, maybe I’ll tie you up, mm?” He presses deep again, then holds steady. When the tears collected at the corners of your eyes start to fall, he wipes them away before they can reach the apples of your cheeks. “Keep you here, just for me. Don’t need to see or talk to anyone else ever again.”

If your head weren’t fuzzy, you’d start questioning why that makes you ache. Eddie withdraws his cock from the top of your throat and you only take a second to gasp in the air you need before following him, reaching up to touch the inches of his cock your mouth still can’t quite cover. Eddie laughs through a moan at the feeling of you jerking his cock into your mouth, licking wet at the end of him. “You want that, huh? Hey-” He drags you away from his cock, leaving you with wet, pleading eyes looking up at him. “You want that?” Your mouth opens, then closes. Your hips roll, seeking friction you can’t get while kneeling like this. Eddie’s eyes flick down, lips turning up at the sight. “Get on the bed for me, mm?”

Eddie reaches a hand out to help you sit up on his mattress. Then he pulls his shirt off over the back of his head, exposing all the soft pale skin and dark ink of his torso. You pull your dress up too, knocking your tiara in the process. When the dress is off entirely, Eddie’s there in an instant to fix it for you, his fingers caressing your cheek when he’s done. “Hey, uh. Am I doing alright? Is this the sort of thing you imagined?”

“This is better,” you tell him earnestly, loving how pleased he looks. You’re learning that this, the pleasure gained from praise, is something you and Eddie share. You love it when Eddie calls you good, or smart, or sweet. When he tells you that you’re good at something he’s teaching you. In turn, Eddie likes it when you tell him how good he makes you feel, that he’s doing everything right, that he’s looking after you exactly how you want it. 

He kisses you, and it’s softer this time until he bites gently at your bottom lip as he’s pulling away. “C’mon and lie down, Princess,” he says, guiding you to lay down. You press your legs together, knees bent and feet flat to the mattress as Eddie climbs up after you. His hands stroke up and down your thighs, making you giggle softly as he passes ticklish spots. It relaxes you enough to let him guide your legs open and back, allowing him closer. Eddie tilts his head, thumbing the little blue bow at the waistband of your panties. “You really want me to tie you up?” 

Without thinking, you glance quickly at the handcuffs hanging from his door. You feel the beat of your heart against your chest, wondering if you’re ready for that, knowing really that you’re not. Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to him. He kisses your knee. “Not tonight, Princess.” He leans in, whispers. “And only ever if you really want, okay?”

“I know, Eddie,” you answer. And you do. You know that as much as Eddie is teaching you, seemingly leading you along to each new experience, in truth he’s making sure you set the pace. 

“Take this off for me,” he says, pulling at the strap of your bra. You reach underneath your back to unhook it, shimmying it off your arms and letting it drop to his floor. Once you’re settled, he takes both your hands in his, pulling them up over your head. You can’t help but giggle, feeling both nervous and giddy. “Hold onto the headboard?” You follow the instruction, wrapping your fingers around one of the wooden slats. Stretched like this, chest presented to him, you feel open and exposed, your nipples tightening from the cold air and from Eddie’s attention. “Don’t let go, mm?”

He leans down, kissing from the base of your neck down the skin between your breasts, his hair dragging behind him, tickling the sensitive skin. He leaves a wet mark on the curve of your left breast, the sting of his teeth quickly soothed by his tongue. When he takes the tight bud of your nipple between his lips, your whole body tenses. It’s a test of your submission, if you can last with only your memory of what it feels like to tangle your fingers in his hair. If you can bear not to tug at it when he flicks his tongue like that. 

Your hands tighten around the wood, hips tilting to find his cock where he tucked it back in his boxers, still hard and throbbing between your legs. The friction, however light, against where you have been waiting for him all evening, is too good to give up, and you keep searching for his hardness to rub against. 

Eddie releases your breasts with a grin. “You want it bad, huh, Princess?”

You whine, melting when he presses his hips forward to give you more delicious friction along your pussy. He huffs a laugh, sitting up and quickly reaching out for the pack of Trojans on his bedside. You watch him kneel between your legs, the way he fists his cock while he tears at the foil square with his teeth, his desperation to roll the condom over his length. Eddie shuffles forward on his knees and presses his wide hands to the back of your thighs. He gently guides your legs back, hitching your hips up for better access to your pussy, wet and swollen under his gaze.

“Wanted this for so long, Princess,” he says. “You’ve been waiting too, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie. Been waiting so long.” You nearly cry from relief when his cock latches at your entrance, then from despair when he stills instead of filling you. The headboard creaks from your squirming. “Please,” you whisper, sounding pathetic in a way that would embarrass you if you weren’t aching from the emptiness.

Eddie stretches you perfectly as he presses inside your slick cunt. The tease of pain feels good now that your body recognises what it means, where Eddie filling you up leads. “Good?” He asks, once he’s deep enough inside that the curls of hair above his cock are teasing your clit. 

You mean to answer properly, but the intention is overtaken by the need for him to move. Waiting for him, your fingers tighten around the wood so much you swear there will be marks from your nails. “Eddie.” It comes out whinier than you intended, but he certainly doesn’t mind. 

“Eddie,” he mimics breathily, his teeth showing as the heat of pleasant humiliation crawls up your spine. He doesn’t keep you waiting any longer, snapping his hips to draw back and press deep again through your clenching cunt.

You’ve been under him every time, but like this you feel helpless. Hands voluntarily useless, body tilted up and legs opened by his hands, your body presented to him and positioned perfectly for him to set the pace. It feels right for this - you know now what the romance novels you hide under your bed mean when the heroine is taken. 

Your toes curl when Eddie’s hips roll just right, the heavy head of his cock hitting the end of you. When he reaches between you to press a thumb to your clit and rub in tight circles, your body tilts, hips trying to chase the pleasure, only for Eddie to press you back down to where he wants you.

“I like it,” you answer. “I like it, Eddie.”

“You like it, like this, hm?” Eddie asks. You blink at him slowly, wondering if it’s your boyfriend or Eddie the Banished asking. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe it, hair shaking. “Knew you would. Pretty Princess just needed to be fucked right, mm?” You shudder, tightening around his cock enough that he gasps, “fuckfuckfuck. S’good. It’s so good, honey.”

You breathe a laugh. “Princess, to you.”

“My apologies,” he says, snapping his hips to land heavy against the spot at the back of your pussy. You gasp, legs kicking out against his grip involuntarily only for him to tighten his grip and push them back to where he wants them. You can hear how wet you are, the sound of him moving inside you as loud as the bed springs, as loud as your moans. “Mine now, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You nod easily. “Yes.”

“Gonna give me everything I want from now on, aren’t you?” 

“Yes. Yes-”

“Made it so easy for me. Should have just done this in the beginning, just taken you for myself.”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, head tilting back as his hips speed up. “Fuck, I can’t- Can’t get enough of that.” When he looks back to you, the detached, mocking look is gone. He’s all intensity and warmth, your Eddie again. Your whole body tightens. “Tells me everything I need to know when you say my name like that.” He gives you a mean thrust, tongue peeking out as he watches where you’re connected, the slick coating his cock, before his gaze returns to your pleasured, sweaty face. “You’re so fucking good, you know that? So fucking good, the way you talk to me. Telling me what you want. Not gonna hide anything like that from me again, are you?”

“Nuh,” you manage, legs twitching. “Eddie.” 

”Again,” he gasps. “Please. My sweet girl-”

“Eddie. Eddie-”

Maybe you keep chanting his name, maybe you cry it out, maybe you stop altogether to scream out instead. You don’t know. You just know he’s all you’re thinking of as the pleasure crests, spreading out from the back of your cunt through your body until it’s intense enough you think you might cry. Then it fades to the gentle delight of Eddie still moving inside you, the warmth and weight of his cock when he buries himself deep. You hear him groan, feel the potential for bruises blooming where his fingers dig into your thighs. Then it’s his weight easing down on top of you, the ache in your shoulders and your legs as you let them relax before wrapping yourself around him.

You finally get your hands in his hair. The roots are damp from sweat, his curls tangled in knots. Eddie’s face is pressed so fully to the space between your breasts that you’re not convinced he can be breathing. He mumbles something that’s lost to your ears, then tilts his head up till you can see his face, and his goofy smile. Your heart aches even as you giggle. Then he’s crawling up your body to kiss you, his mouth warm and tasting like the sweat from his upper lip. 

“I’m gonna pull out now but I want it known that it’ll take amazing strength of will on my part.” 

He does so, disappearing from the bed for less than five seconds to throw out the condom before flopping next to you again and opening his arms to let you clamber into his hold again, you try to fight the rising worries by pressing your face into his neck. He hisses at the scrape of the plastic tiara under his chin, taking it off himself before returning to stroke at your temple with his fingers.  “How do you feel, sweet girl?”

It takes you a minute to answer, sorting through all the complicated feelings that emerged the second Eddie wasn’t inside you anymore. “Good,” you murmur. Then, “weird.” 

You hate how fast it all happens so soon after something so special. You feel overwhelmed and tired, like you want to scrub yourself raw under hot water, like you want to curl up in Eddie’s arms and smell like him forever. You feel like you don’t want to ever be touched again, but the thought that Eddie won’t makes your heart sore. You wish you were normal. You wish you didn’t have weird fantasies. You wish you didn’t feel guilty about what you want. 

Eddie holds you tight against him, and you let yourself feel the comfort of that. Eddie doesn’t think you’re weird, or gross, or immoral. Eddie won’t ever leave you alone to cry and scratch at your crawling skin. 

He presses his lips to your forehead, mumbles against your skin. “Gonna let me look after you?”

He keeps you with him while he runs a bath. You’re wrapped in a towel while he runs around naked, giving you mock coquettish looks over his shoulder every now and then until he gets a giggle from you. As steam starts to rise from the tub, he searches through the cabinet under the sink before emerging with a bottle filled with suspiciously bright orange liquid. “We don’t have bubble bath but, uh, this is six-in-one.” 

You try sitting in the water together, wrapped up in him, but the pins and needles come too fast, eight limbs not quite fitting as they should. You end up facing him, legs tucked up to your chest, watching the water drip from dark ends of his hair. 

“Not as romantic as I’d hoped,” he says.

“It’s okay. I like looking at you.”

His dimples show. Sweetest boy on Earth. He splashes at you a little, waiting for you to smile before talking. “Feeling better?” 

“Much,” you answer honestly. Somewhere between giggling at Eddie rushing to his bedroom to fetch towels for you both, a hair tie for you, with his hands covering the crack of his ass while leaving his dick uncovered and him quietly insisting on taking the side of the tub with the tap at his back, the grey cloud hanging over you faded. “Cause of you,” you say, splashing him back. 

Eddie smiles, resting his face against his knee. “Is there anything I can do, you know, to make it better, like, before it happens?” He reaches for your hand in the water. “Cause it hasn’t, in a while. I know that this was, like, different, but if I did something-”

“No,” you interrupt. “It wasn’t you.” Eddie lets that sit for a while, waiting for you to continue. “When it’s just me and you, it’s like-” You swallow. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being really, actually myself for the first time in my whole life.” Eddie’s eyes are so soft, looking at you now. “And I know that you won’t ever judge me for…my fantasies, or whatever. But then it’s like, it’s almost like- Like without even wanting to, I imagine what other people would say, if they knew the stuff I told you. If they saw how I am, when it’s just us. And then I just feel like, even though they’re not there, it’s ruined it.”

Eddie squeezes your hand, sighs with his whole body. “That sounds exhausting.”

Tears prick in your eyes even as you laugh without real mirth. “It is.”

“Well, you know this stuff really is always going to be just me and you. Right?” 

“I know, Eddie.”

“I wish I could fix it for you, sweet thing.”

You close your eyes tight, trying to force back the tears. You swallow the lump in your throat, thinking, me too. Instead, you sigh, remind yourself that however hard it is now, you’re sure it used to be worse. Before you had Eddie and his humour, his touch, his kindness. “You make it better, Eddie. I promise.”

He’s perfectly gentle with you the rest of the evening, curling back up with you on the couch when you’re dry to restart Theatre of Blood. You let yourself sink into his chest, playing with his rings. You are just about engrossed in the story again, watching with sick fascination as the first critic is stabbed like Julius Caesar. Then, a thought suddenly occurs.

“Did…did you say the soap was six-in-one?”

“Sure did,” Eddie answers. “Face, body, hair, laundry, pets and dishes.”

“That’s why it smells like the terrier next door.”

Eddie hums, lifts your hand to his face and sniffs. “You mean that’s why we smell like the terrier next door.”

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I think we all know I basically spent these 3 chapters cackling maniacally

In the demon business, we call that BAIT!

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I'm all but wiggling happily. I love a good game of chess. I'm not entirely sure it actually is a game of chess beyond in Kabru's mind.

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OH GOOD HE'S A LITTLE BIT STUPID. This comic really does take care to portray people as badass, hyper-competent, and kinda stupid, all in different ways.

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oh, ALWAYS love a Santa-coded crime boss.

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I appreciate that Kabru's pride is solidly among the things he's 100% willing to temporarily ignore in order to be someone's friend/get them to do what he wants. I like that in a man.

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Interesting - clearly he's being magically influenced, but not so...directly? as to have the hourglass pupils.

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^ words of a man who is about to get his ass, and his entire criminal organization, absolutely WHUPPED by like 6 elves. I suspect the Canaries are underestimating the tallmen and other denizens of this dungeon, because they're arrogant pricks, but the locals are underestimating this elite team of elvish warriors a LOT more. I can't wait to find out what they're actually doing while "sight-seeing." Spreading out into tactical positions, maybe?

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ASS! WHUPPED! omg it's like an evil version of the Wink.

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I want to see this fight animated so fucking bad.

I dunno, Kabru, he clearly uses the combination pretty fucking effectively.

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WHY DO YOU THINK THAT A VISIBLE DEMONSTRATION OF MONSTERS WILL GET THROUGH WHERE WORDS DIDN'T? These people already know there are monsters down here... And at best, of course, a bunch of people will die... But they're just short-lived races so I suppose it doesn't matter :)

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While I do appreciate this dedication to making Mithrun look as cool as possible at all times, sending a giant, zombie-making walking mushroom into the middle of the Level 4 lake is going to be SUCH a disruption to that ecosystem!! Somewhere, Senshi just groaned in pain like Obi-Wan when Alderaan was destroyed.

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Mithrun has recognized that Kabru is going at picking out unusual people in a crowd, and is now using him as a manhandled tool to do so, and I just think that's Neat.

And it works! (So now it's their turn to get their asses handed to them.)

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This chapter cover is giving me a lot of feelings about...love, and families of choice.

Except for how I'm holding Laios in one arm while brandishing a knife at that lion fountain behind him. Get the HELL away from my boy, you tiny manifestation of the granting of wishes, and all you greater ones as well.

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oh are they now? They're definitely canaries in a coal mine, then. Badass and valued for their skills, but disposable. Hmm AU where Marcille...

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oh my god holy shit never mind, it turns out Thistle sucks at this when facing an opponent who isn't caught off-guard.

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It is possible that Mithrun is honestly, earnestly trying to help Thistle? As best he can?

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Sharing food as love!!!

MY GIRL!!

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STILL A TEAM!

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Oh Mithrun actually only has one eye, it's not just dramatic anime effect + hair flop? Hm. Should have a cool scar to make it clearer. I'm impressed with what depth perception he's shown, though, with the teleporting!

Obviously this does mean he ranks up in the Favorite Characters list.

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Kabru: Ooh nice strategy, manipulating all those people in order to manipulate that one person!

Kabru: Wait, right, I still don't like you.

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Yes! Yes! The Kabru's inner desires is OUT! He is impulsively risking this chance to prevent another Utaya - his stated goal, the obvious greater good, definitely very genuinely his primary focus - in favor of demanding the answers he WANTS, and the independence from long-lived elves.

YOU TELL 'EM, BUDDY! TAKE A STAND! BURN YOUR BRIDGES!!

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I appreciate that Mithrun isn't bad at this personal assessment thing.

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brb need to go chew a wall or something!

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Nine

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Nine: Going Clubbing Goes Wrong

Summary: Angel's friend Cherri shows up, and Charlie decides that sending everyone for a night on the town is the best idea while she and Vaggie go to Heaven. It isn't the best idea. Not at all.

Warning: Valentino is very much Valentino in this chapter, even towards the MC. It is only a few sentences, but please use your discretion for what you feel comfortable reading. The MC does not get touched or hurt or approached, but they do get talked to.

            “Oh, fuck,” groaned Angel as he nearly fell into the hotel. He looked thoroughly exhausted from his work. Valentino was making him work harder and longer every day, and Angel just wanted to crash and have the rest of eternity off to sleep.

            “You look messy! What happened to you?” said Niffty.

            “It’s who happened to me,” huffed Angel. “And the answer is everyone. Twice. Val had me working sixteen hours straight on a fucking whim. The absolute dick bag.”

            “He sucks,” agreed (Y/N) as Angel threw himself onto the couch next to them.

            Boom!

            The wall (the same wall as usual) exploded. Everyone jumped and stared, ready for a fight.

            “What the fuck is with that wall?!” said Angel.

            “What up, hoes?!” said an Australian voice, and a woman walked in through the hole in the hotel’s wall.

            Angel’s mood brightened. “Holy shit, Cherri Bomb?! Long time no see, baby!”

            “Angie, ya bitch!” said Cherri in a very friendly manner. (Y/N) decided they liked her energy, and since Angel actually seemed happy to see her, they determined their feeling was right. “You been texting me depressing shit all day, figured we could tear shit up like old times. It’s been fuckin’ forever!” She tossed a bomb to Charlie. “Here, hold this.”

            “Ah! Oh my God, oh my God!” said Charlie.

            “Nope, gimme that.” Vaggie took it and threw it out the hole. It exploded in the distance (thankfully).

            “I love seeing ya, Cherri,” said Angel. “But I’m too tired. I need to pass out.”

            Cherri grabbed him before he could leave. “Oho, you can sleep when you’re double-dead, fuckhead. Come on, what you really need is a recharge, a reinvigoration, a re—”

            “Responsible night on the town!” finished Charlie, smiling. “That is a great idea! Hi, I’m Charlie.” She shook Cherri’s hand. “That’s my wall that you just blew up. It’s so nice to meet one of Angel’s friends. Aagh, he never brings anyone around!”

            Cherri snorted, but it wasn’t totally unfriendly. “Wonder why?”

            “Yeah, me too!” Charlie was blissfully ignorant to the tease. “Anyway, Angel and everyone else have been working so hard. I think they deserve to have a little fun.”

            “Wait, ‘they?’ ” said Cherri.

            “Yeah! Hi, everyone!” called Charlie, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Angel and his friend are taking you all out for a night of fun and relaxation.”

            “I don’t really think it’s going to be relaxing,” said (Y/N), but they were interested. This was another experience they’d never had in their life, so they wanted to try something new in death.

            “Great,” huffed Cherri.

            “Don’t worry, Cherri,” said Angel. “They’re not so bad.” He grinned at (Y/N). “You’re gonna like the kid.”

            “Yeah, but I’m only here for yo—” Charlie shoved money into Cherri’s hands to cover everyone. “Ooh! Never mind! Let’s go! Come on, kid, I’m gonna make your first time out the best time.”

            “Wait, are we sure we should let (Y/N) go—” Vaggie’s (rightful) concern was cut off as the portal to Heaven opened up in the lobby and Charlie squealed.

            “Bye, everyone!” said Charlie, grabbing Vaggie and pulling her through. She couldn’t wait another second.

            (Y/N) grinned. “Finally, I can try drinking.”

            “I’m keeping my eye on you,” said Husk.

            He needed to for two reasons. One, he liked (Y/N) and didn’t want them getting hurt. Two, he was certain Alastor would torture him if anyone happened to (Y/N) (which was an odd thought but Husk didn’t have the energy to really think through that, he just knew it was true.)

            The portal to Heaven disappeared, and Pentious appeared in the lobby. He froze as he saw Cherri and straightened in an attempt to seem confident.

            “Well, if it isn’t my archnemesis!” he said. “Have you come to meet your fate in battle, Cherri Bomb?”

            “Apparently, I’m going out with Angel, and I got to drag your sorry asses along,” said Cherri.

            Pentious brightened and slithered up to Cherri. “Oh, so, you and me are going out back for fun?” He tugged on his bowtie nervously. “I…I didn’t think this would ever happen. What? What do I do? What do I wear?” He put his hand on Cherri’s shoulder, and she grabbed it.

            “Don’t fucking touch me, you munted dickhead,” said Cherri, walking off.

            Pentious just blushed, staring at the hand she’d touched.

            Wow, that’s a pair I didn’t expect, thought (Y/N), despite having only met Cherri two minutes ago.

            “Come on, ya fucks! We’re heading out!” announced Cherri.

            It was time for a new experience. ((Y/N) hoped they enjoyed this one. They wanted to make some good memories in their afterlife).

l

            “Woo! Isn’t this place the fucking best?” cheered Cherri at the bar of the club.

            (Y/N) stared at the drink in their hand and downed it. They had discovered they liked the alcohol in Hell and decided a little indulgence couldn’t hurt. (Not too much, though. They could feel a headache coming on, and the last thing they needed was to hurt their poor roses. That being said, doing something that would have made them angry made (Y/N) happy). And, hey, they were with friends, so it couldn’t be too bad. Right?

            “I’ll admit, ‘Consent’ is a good name for a sex club,” said Husk.

            Never mind, they brought me to a sex club. (Y/N) sighed. Whatever. I’ll just stay over here.

            “Niffty, dear, what are you doing?” said Pentious, staring at Niffty as she swept the nightclub floor.

            “I’m sweeping. Ugh, look how icky it is in here,” complained Niffty.

            “That’s because we’re at a club, dear,” pointed at Pentious, not unkindly.

            “Oh! I thought the hotel looked different,” said Niffty, looking around properly.

            Pentious cleared his throat and looked at Cherri. Again, he attempted to seem cool. “Ms. Bomb, I-I’d like to buy you a drink,” he stammered.

            “Why?” Cherri grinned. “Didn’t you say we’re arch-rivals?”

            “Um…uh…because I’m buying everyone a drink!” A terrible excuse, but it worked.

            Everyone in the club cheered and rushed up to the bar.

            “Thanks, Sir Pentious!” said (Y/N).

            “Are you seriously into this, kid?” said Husk, raising a brow.

            “This tastes good,” said (Y/N), lifting their refilled glass.

            Husk sighed. “Vaggie and Charlie are gonna hate this.”

            “I did worse with the loan sharks,” they chirped.

            Husk gave another, long-suffering sigh.

            “I need a drink after today,” said Angel, sitting down beside them all tiredly. “You know, Val, he’s into this waterboarding shit now, I don’t know, it’s a kink.”

            “Sounds like torture,” said (Y/N).

            “It’s exhausting,” agreed Angel.

            “No, I meant literally.”

            “Angel, enough with the Val talk. He already ruined your day,” said Cherri. She squeezed Angel’s shoulder. “Don’t let him ruin your night, too.” She pulled out a few pills from her pocket. “Here, take one of these and you won’t be worrying about nothin’.”

            (Y/N) frowned. They weren’t certain that was the answer.

            “Here we go,” murmured Husk, rolling his eyes.

            “Oh, look, the drunk and the kid are judging us,” huffed Cherri.

            “I ain’t the one trying to get into Heaven,” said Husk. He looked at Angel. “Look, you want to fuck up all your progress? Be my guest.” He huffed, and his ears flattened.

            “I just don’t want you to feel worse about yourself after you come down,” said (Y/N). They knew Cherri was just doing what Cherri thought Angel wanted, but they wanted to make sure Angel was alright.

            “Buzzkills,” said Cherri. “Come on, Angie, let’s get fucked up! It’s been too long.”

            “I, uh, I don’t know.” Angel didn’t want to disappoint Husk or any of his other friends. And…they had a point. “It’s been a long night, and I don’t need to go too wild.”

            Husk smiled, not a little proudly, and took a sip of his drink. He kept an eye on (Y/N) in case they started having too much. He was a hopeless alcoholic, but he wasn’t letting the kid spiral into that.

            “Come on, bitch,” said Cherri encouragingly. “If you’ve really been working that hard, you deserve a little R and R, and some THC, or maybe PCP with DMT. Aw, fuck it, let’s see where the night takes us, huh?”

            “I…I guess,” said Angel, shrugging noncommittedly.

            “Cherri, I bought you a shot!” said Pentious, having finally gotten to paying for her.

            Cherri frowned at him, and Pentious panicked.

            “B-Because I bought everyone another shot! Hooray!” said Pentious.

            Angel downed a shot. “Aah…fuck it! Let’s do it!” He grinned at Cherri.

            Husk rolled his eyes. Suddenly, this night wasn’t that fun to him.

            Or (Y/N). “Be careful, Angel.”

            “He’s done it before!” said Cherri optimistically.

            “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it,” muttered (Y/N), watching as Cherri and Angel grabbed another drink.

            The drinks kept rolling. ((Y/N) had decided to stop as soon as Cherri and Angel got going in case they needed help with anything. Yeah, pissing off the spirits of the dead…people-(Y/N)-didn’t-like-to think-about was great and all by drinking, but they weren’t going to just let their friends wander around).

            “Round twelve, motherfuckers!” cheered Cherri. “Heels are comin’ off!”

            “Oh, yeah, keep ‘em comin’!” said Angel. “Come on, right here, right to daddy!”

            “Oh, it’s wonderful to have friends!” said Pentious, laughing wildly (he was drunk, but he was still drinking to keep up and impress Cherri).

            “Everything’s spinny,” said Niffty, grinning as she tried to reach for another shot.

            “Ha, I think you’re done, tiny,” said Angel, lifting the shot away from her.

            “No! Gimme, gimme, gimme!” she pouted.

            “Oh, come on, bitch, she can handle a little more,” said Cherri.

            “She’s ten pounds and tiny,” said (Y/N). “And we don’t need her any more unhinged than normal.”

            “Shit, where’d she go?” said Angel, looking around. Niffty had made a run for it.

            “I’ll help you find her,” said (Y/N), standing. Husk could look after Pentious.

            It didn’t take a moment to spot Niffty, cleaning the nightclub by collecting everyone’s drinks in a garbage bag. The patrons were not pleased with it and growing restless.

            “Dirty, dirty, make it clean!” she said maniacally.

            “Dammit, Niffty,” said Angel.

            (Y/N) picked Niffty up before she could do more while Angel tried to placate the angry men.

            “Sorry, fellas, here, next one’s on me.” He put money down on the table and smiled while they began to fight.

            “Shit, Niffty, stop—Damn!” Niffty, seeing a supply closet, had squirmed out of (Y/N)’s hold and ran for the cleaning supplies within.

            “Shit, shit,” cursed Angel.

            “Angie, the fuck are you doin’?” asked Cherri, stepping in front while Niffty collected bleach and chlorine behind her. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, not playing nanny. Roses over here seem to has that down.”

            (Y/N) gave her the middle finger (playfully) while trying to keep an eye on Niffty.

            “Look, neither of ‘em are used to this scene,” said Angel. “I just don’t want ‘em to end up in the gutter like I used to.”

            (Y/N) looked at Angel. That was surprisingly heartfelt for him. Yes, he was always deep down a good person, but he usually hid it behind his hypersexuality and acting. This was actual care and honesty. (Y/N) nearly smiled. It was heartwarming and one of the reasons they really liked Angel.

            Not completely getting the idea, Cherri shrugged. “Whatever, nerd. Just catch up when you’re done.” She walked away.

            Angel grabbed Niffty from the supply closet. “Stop, you can’t take that.”

            (Y/N) put the chlorine and bleach away. “It’s not ours.” And you might poison people to clean them.

            Stressed and frustrated, Angel huffed. “God, Niff, why are you bein’ such a mess?”

            Niffty’s eyes widened. “I’m the mess?”

            “Oh, dear,” said (Y/N).

            Niffty wailed, and tears poured from her eye.

            “Oh, oh, shit!” said Angel, realizing he’d messed up. “Hey, hey, hey, calm down.”

            “You’re not a mess, Niffty,” said (Y/N), reaching up as best they could to pat Niffty’s back. “We’re all just being, uh, silly right now.”

            “Right, right,” said Angel, nodding furiously. “You’re not a mess. It’s fine, sssh. You, uh, wanna play with the kitty?” He hugged her, and (Y/N) patted her back.

            Niffty’s sobs subsided, and she hiccupped. “Yeah.”

            Angel and (Y/N) didn’t waste time putting Niffty back with Husk. She sat on his head, petting his fur, and Husk stared up.

            “The fuck is this?” said Husk.

            “She’s wasted,” said Angel, sighing.

            “Just go with it unless you want her to start crying or pouring bleach drinks for you,” said (Y/N) cheerfully.

            Husk huffed. “Fine, fine, whatever.” It wasn’t like he could stop Niffty now, and no one really wanted to see what angering her could do.

            “Aaah…” Pentious fell over from his…well, he’d lost count, but somewhere near his twentieth shot. “Hey, wow.” He looked at Cherri, hauled himself up, and slithered over to her.

            “Oh, boy, he’s got his confidence again,” said (Y/N). “Wonder what’ll go wrong this time.”

            “Maybe nothing will,” said Husk.

            He and (Y/N) exchanged a look and nearly burst out laughing. They both knew that poor Pentious was still too insecure to fully follow through if Cherri questioned anything.

            “Hey, so…I see the club has a sex room,” said Pentious. “So, I was thinking, maybe you’d want to, uhm…do a sex with me?”

            “Yikes, points for confidence, but minus several hundred for style,” said (Y/N).

            “I’m sorry, why would we have sex?” said Cherri, smirking.

            “Uh, uh, uhm…” Pentious shifted nervously.

            “Here it comes,” said Husk.

            “Because I’m having sex with everyone here!” declared Pentious.

            “Wow, he’s really crashing and burning on this one,” said (Y/N), almost impressed by Pentious’s ability to get himself into trouble (everyone was cheering and far too excited for Pentious to be free for quite a while). Sure enough, several people grabbed Pentious, and he was carried away for a long night into one of the sex rooms.

            Cherri laughed and walked back to the group. “You know, we can do this fucking shit every fucking night, Angie. You don’t have to spend all your off hours ‘working on yourself,’ you little bitch.”

            “The hotel isn’t his problem,” said Husk, holding Niffty over his shoulder. “It’s—”

            “Valentino,” said Angel angrily.

            “Exactly,” said Husk, and (Y/N) nodded fervently.

            “Yeah, that guy is a piece of shit,” said (Y/N).

            “No,” said Angel. He pointed to a side lounge. “Valentino.”

            The moth was demon was there, in the club. He lay back on a couch, two demons curled up next to him as he smoked and crooned proudly about himself. He smirked, clearly at home and in control at the club.

            (Y/N) had seen pictures of him (unfortunately) around Hell, but seeing him in person made them dislike him all the more. He reminded them of the men they’d seen on Earth who only looked at others as pawns, as objects to be used and thrown away. Disgusted, (Y/N) narrowed their eyes.

            “Yeah, I come here all the time. They know me,” said Valentino to the two demons currently with him. He smirked at one. “You’re gorgeous. Do you need a job? How many dicks can you suck? I could make you a star.”

            Angel shivered as Valentino spoke and looked at his friends. “Let’s get the fuck outta here. Ok, ok.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Niffty’s gone.”

            Husk looked at his shoulder, and sure enough, the bug demon had disappeared. “Well, fuck.”

            “Shit, Niffty,” cursed (Y/N), spotting her running towards the lounge Valentino was sitting in.

            They moved as fast as they could, grabbing Niffty before she could get too close. Unfortunately (but when was the hotel’s luck ever good?), a clubber dancing bumped into (Y/N), and they and Niffty fell forward into the empty space in front of Valentino’s lounge.

            “Fuck, fuck!” Angel reached down and grabbed (Y/N) and Niffty, but it was too late, and Valentino had noticed him.

            “Holy shit, Angel Dust?” said Valentino. “What are you doing here, baby? You didn’t get enough dick today?”

            (Y/N) was disgusted just by his voice, and when Angel held Niffty behind him and pushed (Y/N) back with his other pair of arms, they didn’t resist at all.

            Valentino leaned forward, leering down at Angel, Niffty, and (Y/N). “Who are these chiquitas? You bringing me fresh meat?”

            (Y/N) felt bile rise in their throat, and they inched farther behind Angel.

            Niffty, instead, tried to lunge and bite Valentino, who instantly jerked back. “I just want a taste,” she said, grinning.

            “Eh, weird, but there’s a kink for that, I’m sure,” said Valentino. He tilted his head and regarded (Y/N) next, and they fought back a shudder, refusing to show weakness in front of him. “And that one looks sweet. I know a ton of clients with a thing for that~. A little young, but after a little time in Hell, eh, they’re close enough~”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and their stomach twisted uncomfortably at the implications of that statement. Angel protectively pushed them back, stood up, and glared at Valentino.

            “Fuck off, Val,” he snapped.

            “Excuse me?” said Valentino, narrowing his eyes.

            “I said fuck off!” shouted Angel.

            The club went silent, and everyone stared in shock at Angel.

            “I may have to put up with your bullshit, but you ain’t fucking with any of my friends!” said Angel, hands curled into fists.

            Valentino stood, towering over everyone. “You forget who you’re talking to?” He waved his cigarette, and the smoke collected into a chain. It wrapped around Angel’s wrist and pulled him to Valentino. “I own you!”

            Angel’s face fell, but his anger welled up again, and he glared, refusing to back down. “Yeah, you do, in the studio, and you can do anything you want to me there, just like our deal says. But out here, I get to do what I want. So once again, fuck off!”

            Valentino raised his hand and swung at Angel.

            Snap!

            A briar wrapped around Valentino’s wrist. The thorns sunk into his skin, and he gritted his teeth at the sudden pain. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at where the vine came from. Everyone was silent and turned their gaze on (Y/N), whose hand was lifted. They had summoned the vine.

            “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” hissed Valentino, and the hotel gang’s eyes widened as (Y/N) was faced with Valentino’s complete fury.

            “Telling you to fuck off like Angel did,” said (Y/N), refusing to cower.

            Valentino’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim lights of the club. “You’re making quite the enemy, you fucking brat.”

            “I certainly don’t want you as a friend,” sneered (Y/N), letting the vine tighten around Valentino’s wrist.

            Valentino gritted his teeth and ripped it away with another hand. Standing at his full height, he glared at Angel. “Enjoy your night, bitch. I’m going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow.” He looked back at (Y/N). “And you…You better be watch your fucking back. You’re going to pay for that.” He turned, and his red wings/cloak swept around with him as he went back to his lounge, fuming.

            “Fucking dickhead,” muttered Cherri.

            “Fucking hell, kid, if he hadn’t been at the club and not been able to risk destroying it, he could’ve tried to kill you,” said Husk, looking at (Y/N).

            They crossed their arms. “I wasn’t going to let him hurt Angel. Not when he’s here with us. Plus he made me feel fucking gross.”

            Angel looked at (Y/N). “He deserved it. Only wish I could’ve been the one to hurt him.” And he wished he could’ve kept Valentino from speaking like that about (Y/N), but he knew (Y/N) had already seen that.

            “Maybe one day you will,” said (Y/N).

            “I hope so,” said Angel. His shoulders heaved as the adrenaline ran out. “Let’s go.”

            Husk patted his back. “Proud of you.”

            Angel smiled. “Thanks.”

            “And you, too, kid, even if it was fucking stupid,” said Husk. “Valentino has got a lot of pull.”

            “I’ve lived under enough people’s thumbs,” said (Y/N), their gaze darkening. “I’m not doing it anymore.”

            Angel and Husk exchanged a look but decided not to ask (Y/N) what that meant. They looked upset enough.

l

            “What have you done to Niffty?” said Alastor as the group returned to the hotel. He was grinning at all of their appearances.

            Niffty was holding her head as Husk carried her, Angel Dust was ready to pass out at this point, Pentious was miserable since he hadn’t gotten a chance to “do the sex” with Cherri, and (Y/N)’s anger had worn off to disgust at their experience with Valentino.

            “She drank too much,” said Angel, throwing himself down on the couch. “Don’t wake me. I’m sleeping here forever.”

            “Move over,” said Husk, putting Niffty down to rest.

            “My, my, I thought Charlie had instructed you to have a good time,” tutted Alastor in amusement.

            “We did until Valentino showed up,” groaned Angel. “The dick tried to get Niffty and (Y/N) to work for him.”

            Husk shivered as Alastor’s grin widened but turned sharp and deadly.

            “Did he now?” said Alastor.

            “And then the creep tried to hit Angel!” said (Y/N) angrily.

            “And the kid stupidly made Valentino angry by hurting him with their thorns,” said Husk. “He threatened them.” Husk was proud of them for interceding when Angel had nearly gotten hurt, but he was worried about what Valentino would do now that he knew their face and disliked them.

            “He deserved it,” said (Y/N) sourly.

            “Hell yeah,” said Angel. “He was being a fucking creep.” His friends were off limits, and (Y/N) was seventeen. Not eighteen. Not an adult. Nothing like that. Valentino was a fucking monster.

            “Well, if you have any further trouble with that lecherous demon, I’m sure a quick conversation with me will put an end to it,” said Alastor, his grin dangerously wide even as he tapped (Y/N) on the forehead with his staff with more fondness than any of the demons present were familiar with him expressing.

            “I hope I never see him again,” grumbled (Y/N), completely oblivious to how protective Alastor’s words were.

            The Radio Demon, however, was. Ah, well. It was the truth. He wouldn’t have such a disgusting demon getting near his protégé.

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[wilbursprincess]

October 5- Making Out With Beardbur

Beardbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Reader being a bit of a brat, some sex references, so much fluff. So much tooth rotting fluff I practically had to brush my teeth afterwards!

This is dedicated to my boyfriend, who inspired a pure fluff fic and most of the things Beardbur does.

thanks for the help <3 love you

Fic below cut!

“Baby?” Wilbur asks, and I look up from my book to see him pouting on the sofa. “Come cuddle with me! I’m lonely.”

I sigh. “I’ve got 3 pages left in this chapter! Give me a second, Will.”

“Yea, but I want you now,” he pleads, laying on his back and holding his arms out, an invitation for me to curl up on his chest.

“The more you beg, the longer it’ll take me to finish the chapter,” I reply, going back to my book. I enjoyed teasing my boyfriend, who seemed unable to be without my touch for more than a few minutes.

“Please?”

Groaning, I dog-ear the page and set the book down. “Goddamn it. Fine.”

Wilbur’s entire face lights up as I snuggle into his chest, head tucked under his jawline. Stubble tickles my forehead.

“Someone hasn’t shaved.” I giggle when he rubs his stubble against my cheek. “It itches!”

“That’s what you get for reading instead of giving me attention,” Wilbur replies, pecking kisses all over my face. “Mmm, you’re so cute when you’re being a brat.”

I snort. “Maybe I’ll stop being a brat, then, and be an adorable, perfect girlfriend.”

“Too bad, I like that too.” Wilbur shuts up any possible reply with a kiss, a long, slow, soft kiss, one that melts me to my very core. As much as I loved teasing him, I loved kissing him more, because God, that man could kiss.

Wilbur gently pins my hands above my head before taking one of my hands in his, rubbing his thumb in tiny circles around my palm. The tiny gesture makes my heart almost explode, and I wrap my legs around his waist in my urge to pull him closer.

“I wonder what color bra you have on,” he asks slyly, pulling his head back to run his eyes down the buttons on my blouse. “Mind if I find out?

I kiss his nose. “Only if you tell me how much you love me.”

His fingers nimbly undo my top button. “You look really cute under me.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Keep going, Will.”

Second button undone. “I could kiss you for the rest of my life.”

Third button undone. “You look better in my hoodies than I do.”

“You’re just saying that to deal with me stealing them all.”

Wilbur pretends he doesn’t hear me, and undoes the fourth button. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Fifth button undone. “You can get me hard by smiling at me.”

“And I do that a lot,” I mutter under my breath.

He giggles. “Shush, I’m the one sweet talking you. Just lay there and look pretty while I undo your blouse and whisper sweet nothings, ok?”

I pout, but shut up.

Sixth button undone. “You always let me steal your fluffy socks.”

He’s down to the last button, and clearly is thinking of a suitable ending line.

“You’re the girl of my dreams and even beyond my dreams,” he whispers in my ear, undoing the final button and kissing a line down my bare stomach before drinking in my lacy bra. “Ooh, peach. I like it.”

I’m past the point of wanting to run my mouth, and instead pull Wilbur in for yet another kiss. We’re so desperate for each other that our mouths aren’t even lined up properly, since that would take too long. He’s nibbling at my lower lip, tongue snaking its way into my mouth alongside teeth.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the kiss.

I smile. “I love you more.”

“Impossible,” he breathes, warm breath fanning out over my face. “Because I love you more.”

We stop talking after that, preferring our entwined bodies to talk for us.

[xxxdragonfucker69xxx]

hi folks. its been a long week. but its time for HOUR IN BRASS

for those just joining us, a new exalted splat is being released; when this happens, i usually lose my shit and liveread through the charms; this time it's the alchemical exalted, golem-robot-communists inside the belly of the machine god autochthon. if you wish to avoid this, you will blacklist #hour in brass

first third of charms:

Howdy Mother Fuckers. its time for HOUR IN BRASS

starting with: the horniest chapter fiction so far

the alchemical paradigm is that you have only so many charm slots for active charms at a time, but that most charms have submodules that add on without taking more slots. they have to swap charms in and out with the rite of reconfiguration. their dice limit is Ess+Attribute BUT one of their biggest charms is going to make their math oh whatever here it comes

TRANSPUISSANT ATTRIBUTE UPGRADE aka transpussy assribute ultima. which raises your resting attribute by 1, starts to stack at higher essences, and comes with a load of submodules to let you swap what attributes are used for what. god im fucking excited to have these around. unwavering sniper calibration to snipe with perception, for example

actually they have a lot of wacky universal charms about integrating with hearthstones, artifacts, stuff like that. robots be customizing bodies. i do want to point out vat surrogate reweaving system, which lets you speed-swap charms once between reconfigurations. i read it and immediately thought camilla hect Go Loud and started cackling

yes alchemicals can still go colossus and eventually turn into cities. though metropolis play is not mechanically supported

ok appearance. starting with radiant iconography array: anima holograms, but they do stuff like become realistic illusions or huge legendary size stuff

emotive aesthetics of the body electric naturally bangs

patriotism-provoking display has many-is-one node and one-is-many node as submodules, whihc are fun

universal advisor comportment is fun, makes you feel sagacious and advisorly

beguiling aestheic perfection is fun, when you socially affect someone they suffer trying to beat your guile for the rest of the scene. i have suffered this irl many times

pheromone regulation system… i cannot make any jokes about this that arent crass. i once knew someone who was turned on by the smell of xbox exhaust

man the submodule tech is really realyl nice. this is a great fucking way for charms to work. you can flashbang people with blinding strobe projector and then on top of that you can choose to enter stealth, steal more initiative, or make it rainbow

its really interesting to me that appearance is getting so many teacherly charms. with illuminating inspiration beacon "The Alchemical’s faith in her students shines through in every aspect of her neon-limned visage"

damn, and from there is psyche-stabilizing beacon, where you radiate such comfort that it helps people resist brain curses

theotropic veneration mantle rocks. project a principle to the exclsuion of others, and those who share the principle see you as a holy figure

i sort of hate glistering obsession nodes. i dont want to glister. it makes people obsessed with me if they can't figure me out

ooh, disguises in appearance subterfuge. including stuff to appear human, or as a dfferent exalted

optical shroud, a classic, predator invisibility

apocryphal operative halo is really interesting, MIB neuralyzer

semiotic flare projector is a really cute concept. almost as cute as supreme icon of battlefield glory. when you kick ass on the battlefield your troops love it, and you can make your enemies hate it, and at e4 you can project it over the entire battlefield

alright, charisma. starting with effective leadership algorithm, both a great example of alchie flavor and of submodule tech bc its just a menu of submodules that let you decide what kinda rolls you use it on, whether youre using faction-building unity or overriding authority mode

oh synergy promoting upgrade is interesting. helps with bureaucracy if youre leadering, gets better if your group likes you, SPU: communal supremacy makes it better if its for a community, SPU: lifestyle cooperation paradigm makes your group like each other

hdkfghdfjsg universal authorization chevron. the cool s. intuitively recognized as a symbol of authority. UAC: axiomatic emblem means even gremlins/fae/undead recognize you with wary deference. UAC: perfected delegation emblem lets you hand out copies to deputies

heresy declaration beacon, lets fucking go

radiant emblem of integrity is interesting… if you speak the complete truth everyone knows that its the complete truth, and it can also authenticate replays of events projected with radiant iconography array. also if you tell the truth and it sucks, gain wp. fantastically built charm. oh the submodule lets you make it permanent and mandatory

electric fervor inspiration is a set of orichalcum electrodes implanted behind the alchemical's jaw. thats fucked up. oh it lets you reset social rolls thats differently fucked up

battle anthem of the alchemical exalted! made it in! oh this is just a menu of songs thats super neat. including thousand work shifts ballad… and double music

similarly with programming language eloquence "A breaker between the Alchemical’s frontal and temporal lobes filters unnecessary emotion from her communications…" im really having fun with this

damn propaganda interdiction signal: void-quelling chastisement means that gribblies can't call on principles to resist your influence to hangout with mortals

something about vox populi broadcast really compels me. its just a charm to speak loudly but you can submodule it to communicate only with allies or to cut through magical silence.. and its speakers implanted in your throat

ideological override circuitry…

FEAR OVERRIDE DEVICE in warfare

homeguard reinforcement clarion… whip up that militia

dexterityyyy okay we're getting into the combat charms now

omg magnetic subdual coils to steal weapons. including a pulse blaster submodule, field projector, magnetron…

protosynthetic ammunition replicator, as expected, but thankully it is reloaded with "an articulated metal tendril". & btw dispersive flash-chaff cluster to make it a flashbang arrow, fulminating conduction charge to make it a stun arrow, concussive overpressure warhead to make it a knockdown, airburst grenade

being able to group all the "fast attack" charms in one place is fun, the submodules have a cute menu of extra ways to use it

damn, blinding velocity actuator upgrades you to a surprise attack if youre fast enough?

i like that gear-driven reflex automation is, past all the prereqs and flavor lines and stuff, exactly one line of charm. and then some fun submodules. wait damn withering counterattck at e3, with tactical reaction matrix

hacking multistrike accelerator to "enact pre-programmed motions" in pursuit of… erm… well… ok wait forget that this is a really cool charm. doesnt use all your initiative on the decisive, this feels like itd be real fun to fuck with espcially with the submodules

dsjksdks subluminous onslaught: kinetic launch catapult lets you like launch a fucking sword to short range. or your fists

ESSENCE PULSE CANNON. lets fucking go. again the submodules are really cool: concussive, focused, precision, de hey. Sieve Devastator Mode. its sheer heft provides her with heavy cover

skjfdsf autonomous assault processors makes (Dex-2) attacks, but dont forget you could be augmened enough for that to be 4 attacks at e2 anyways, 5 at e3 (if i remember the TAU rules right).

oh shitt transmodal rapid targeting system, bend that bullet. psychokinetic vectors. sdhksdfs this damage calculation is really funny. damn this is fully just children of the sun or whatever that game was. epic

TRANSFINITE ULTRAVIOLENCE DRIVE. time stands still. and then you bank attacks, which seems really fun. shjdskf and TUD: omnitactical processing core lets you add more withering attacks on top

oh huh accelerated response system: unwavering precision lets you not take onslaught if you successfully defend against lower init enemies. thats probably not that strong but it feels strong

casualty-minimizing equations is a damn good name

perfectly parallel defensive geometry…

oh light-etched interceptor barrier is fun. roll parry instead of static. and essence absorption screen lets you eat energy attacks with it

autonomous defensive drones AERIAL! actually theyre more like murderbot drones, they orbit and defend you. … damn, they cant be withered and theyve got almost as many hls as a starting character, theyre a pain to take out. their DO Parry is (Dex+1) so they're like fantastic for ranged fighters who dont parry or dodge

precalculated evasion system lets you bank dodge successes… kind of like light-etched interceptor but not. really interesting. hey what its simple?

omnisituational evasive equation is a fantastic name. ts the perfect dodge. OEE: hyperspatial geometry is really fun

cyclical velocity treads! heelies!!!

and then theres… oil slick dispenser nozzles… in your calves. i love wacky races

momentum-charged overdrive engine is a bangin name… a preprogrammed sequence of combat acrobatics

inclding jet boosters in optimized pursuit accelerator… ts really funny that al these red jade rush charms are also like "ugh fine you can also use these to run away if you have to"

transphase engine… walk through fucking walls

sjdflskdf digital precision effectors splits open your fingertips

covert telemetry mode…

counterharmonic scatter system is just like a really fun charm name. im having a lot of fun with charm names. displaces the sound of you

sdjlfsdf flicker-flare launchers are a flashbang to just immediately enter concealment

ooh matchless assassin protocols… reflexively stealth after a disengage or distract

hyperdextrous tentacle apparatus. can someone get astrakiseki on the phone

total perception negation field. if you see me no you didnt. ending, of course, in unseen deathblow calibration

and thats the first third. im like getting really alchemicalpilled rn. its hot

[jagibee]

Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 4

2,078 Words

A/N: hihihihi, you guys ready for some quality Chan time? As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated and lmk what you think!!!

…

What the fuck.

Why was Bang Christopher Chan at your hotel room?

And dear god why did you have to be wearing your old sweatpants with a hole on the inner thigh in front of an internationally famous kpop band leader with a crazy hot accent and perfect abs?

Regretting that you had taken off your scent blocker and not reapplied one, you cleared your thoughts as best you could.

“H-hello, Chan. What are you doing here?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Is it all right if I come in?”

“Oh! Yes, of course, come in. Do you want a water or soda or something from the fridge?” You led Chan over to sit at the tiny desk while you sat on the bed across from him.

“No, that’s alright.” He looked up at you. “I wanted to talk about everything with you.”

Tilting your head, you responded. “I thought you said we were meeting tomorrow. Is there an emergency or something?”

“Ah, no, no, nothing like that.” He pressed his lips together and looked down at the desk. “I wanted to talk… without the company listening in.”

You hummed in understanding. “Alright. Anything specific?”

Just then, a knock sounded at your door.

You jumped up off the bed. “Sorry, excuse me, I totally forgot that I ordered room service.”

He smiled at you as you rushed to answer the door. As soon as you got your tray, completely littered with bowls and plates, you set it down on the tiny coffee table and sat down on the floor in front of it.

Looking up at Chan, you asked. “Do you want anything?”

He had been staring at the tray but his eyes flicked back up to you. “Hmm? Oh, no that’s alright. Sorry to interrupt you.”

You rolled your eyes and patted the floor next to you. “Come on, I ordered a bunch because I didn’t know what I would like. I can’t actually eat all of this. Honestly, it’s good that you came by so that there’s not a lot that’s wasted.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be rude.”

You patted the floor next to you even harder. “Sit down. It’s all getting billed back to the company anyway.”

He huffed out a laugh before finally settling down beside you.

By then you had taken off all the lids and were surveying everything. “Hmm. Any recommendations?”

His eyes widened. “Ooh, try this first,” he said, handing you a bowl.

You took a bite and promptly groaned. “Oh my god, this is so good. Is all hotel food here good?”

Chan chuckled at you. “No, I don’t think so. The company must have really wanted to impress you.”

You snorted. “Honestly, they could have set me up with a zero-star hotel and I would have been perfectly happy as long as they still gave me the job.”

He grinned back at that and took a bite from your bowl when you offered it. “Oh, shit, that is good.”

You gasped mockingly at him. “Bang Chan! You’re swearing? I’m telling your fans.”

He sighed fake exasperatedly. “I can already tell that you are going to gang up with my members against me, aren’t you?”

You smirked. “For sure, old man.”

You both smiled at each other and continued to eat, sharing bowls and making teasing comments. You were surprised how quickly you had become comfortable with him, but that was probably the Bang Chan Effect. Plus, you knew someone in a different type of way when you shared ramen while wearing old sweatpants at who-the-fuck-knows-o’clock.

Taking one last bite, you groaned and leaned back until your back hit the ground.

Chan copied you so you were lying next to each other with your legs splayed out under the coffee table.

You each turned your head to look at each other. God, he’s pretty.

You cleared your throat. “So what was it you wanted to talk about?”

He gazed off in thought before refocusing on you. “Well, we could start with any questions you might have? Ha-joon said you ran out of time today so I mostly wanted to see if you wanted to get any answers without the… company filter.”

You nodded in understanding and stood up to get the file from earlier. When you handed it to him, he sat up to read it and you laid back down in your previous spot.

You noticed Chan itching at his scent blocker. “Do you want to take it off?”

He tilted his head at you. “Sorry?”

You gestured at your own neck. “Do you want to take your scent blocker off?” At his widened eyes, you felt the need to clarify. “I’m not trying to make a move on you or anything, it’s just, you’ve had it on for a while and I know they get annoying, and hey, we might as well get used to each other’s scent already, right?”

He smiled warmly at you. “Right. Do you have a new one I could put on before I leave?”

Nodding, you went and got the box of heavy duty blockers that the company had delivered to your room when you got back. After you handed him one and he put it in his pocket, you laid back in your previous spot next to him.

Chan gazed at you while he peeled his off and threw it away. Settling back down, he turned to the file. Thank goodness he was too busy to notice how you were almost going dizzy with the strong scent of eucalyptus.

After looking over the file, he turned back to face you. “This is both less and more than I expected them to tell you.”

You let out a sharp laugh at that and sat up. “So, is there anything not in there that I need to know?”

Chan considered it for a second. “Well, Felix’s heat is the next one coming up, so we should probably focus on him first. The company wanted you to meet everyone tomorrow, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you or my members, so I thought it would be best if you just met the omegas? What do you think?”

You smiled up at him. “That’s perfect! I can’t wait. Anything I need to know before I meet them?”

Before he could respond, his phone started ringing. He checked it and looked back to you. “Sorry, is it alright if I take this?”

“Oh, sure,” you responded, “Do you want me to go out into the hall to give you some privacy?”

He shook his head. “It’s just Lino. I doubt he’s just going to expose all my deepest, darkest secrets on one random phone call.” Then, he looked off into the distance dramatically. “But really, who can tell with him?”

After he accepted, you could hear the voice without it even being on speakerphone. “Yah, hyung, what took you so long?”

You had to suppress a giggle at the way Chan sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m busy, what’s up? Is everything alright?”

“I just wanted to tell you that you’re buying coffee for the kids when they’re like zombies tomorrow.”

Chan leaned back and closed his eyes. “Mhmm. Why?”

“You’re the one who told them about meeting the caretaker soon and now they won’t sleep.”

“Tell them that only Hyunjin and Lix are meeting her tomorrow.”

There was a short pause before the other voice replied. “Yah, I’m not meeting her?”

Chan groaned and laid back onto the floor. “You can meet her later! Just the omegas tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow she can meet me, Yongbok, Hyunjin, and you. Then she can meet the others. That way it’s half tomorrow and half later.”

Chan cleared his throat. “Yeah, it didn’t exactly work out that way.”

“What do you mean, hyung?”

Chan glanced at you guiltily before he sighed and answered. “I kind of… met her already?”

“What?!”

At the even louder shout, Chan winced and held the phone further from his ear. “Yeah, I uh. I met her today. Walked in on a meeting accidentally.”

“What’s she like?”

You snorted at that. ‘What am I like?’ You mouthed at Chan.

He smiled back at you. “She’s cool. Gave me food. She smells good.” At that, you could feel heat rising in your cheeks.

“Wait, she gave you food in the middle of her meeting?”

Chan sucked air between his teeth. “Uh… not exactly.”

“Hyung. Where are you.”

Chan sighed. “I’m already buying you coffee tomorrow, can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Are you with her right now?”

“Maybe?”

“And you’re eating food with her?”

Chan laughed. “Well, not anymore.”

You could hear a joking growl over the line. “We’re getting a divorce. I’m taking the kids.”

Chan giggled. “Ah, no, you can’t take all of them!”

“Fine. You can have Seungmin. And Hyunjin.”

“Then Seungmin and Hyunjin can meet Y/N! And you can’t!”

At that, Chan got hung up on. All he did was laugh harder. You couldn’t help but join in until you were both spread out on the ground, limbs slightly overlapping, slightly exhausted from all the laughing.

I could live in this moment forever, you thought.

Then Chan’s phone buzzed. Pulling it out again, he checked it before he started laughing again. He showed you the screen as well.

My Evil Devil Rabbit🐇❤️

So if you met the caretaker today, then four people - me, Yongbok, Hyunjin, and In-ah - could meet her tomorrow and then the others can meet her after. 143.

You giggled at the text. “Wow, he really wants to meet me.”

Chan hummed. “They all do.”

“Great, no pressure,” you grumbled.

Chan blinked at you slowly. “They’re going to love you.”

Before you could respond, he picked up the file again, then turned his gaze back to you. “I know we said just the omegas tomorrow, but would it be alright if he met you? Otherwise, I’ll have to listen to him complain.”

You laughed at that. “It’s fine! I’m just glad I don’t have to meet all eight of you at the same time. Plus, I know he’s trying to play it off but he’s definitely just being protective of his omegas.”

Chan smiled softly at you. “You are good. So tomorrow you meet Danceracha?”

You hummed. “Well, I could also meet someone else. Gotta keep it 143, right?”

Chan released some ‘affectionate’ pheromones. His eyes widened and he slapped his hands over his neck. “Shit, sorry. That was an accident.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “You’re fine, I get it.” You released your own ‘soothing’ pheromones and continued talking once he relaxed. “So which of the other members am I meeting?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Well, Lino probably had a good idea with meeting I.N tomorrow. He’s extra sensitive because he’s still getting used to his ruts, so I think it would be good to meet him with the first group instead of making him wait.”

You nodded. “Sounds good to me. Oh! Before I forget…” Chan’s eyes turned to you. “Mini fridges.”

He recoiled. “Mini fridges?”

“Mini fridges,” you confirmed.

He huffed out a laugh. “What about them?”

“Do you have them?”

“No?”

You shrugged. “You should definitely get a couple. At least one for each dorm. That way, if someone is in their heat, or their slip, or their rut, and they don’t want to leave their room, they can still eat.”

Chan blinked slowly. “That’s a good idea. Anything else?”

You scrunched up your face. “Not anything I can think of now.”

“Alright.” He smiled and stood up. “I should be leaving soon. Otherwise, someone might try to hunt me down at my studio, only I won’t be there.”

You laughed at that and stood up to walk him to the door. You waited for him to take the scent blocker out of his pocket and apply it before he opened the door.

“Well,” he turned to you, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Y/N.”

You smiled up at him. “See you tomorrow.”

You watched him walk a couple feet away before he shouted “Wait!” And ran back to you. He pushed past you, grabbed the pen and file off the desk and wrote something down. He straightened up and handed it to you. “My number,” he told you, “text me if you have any questions!”

After the two of you exchanged goodbyes, he left and you slumped against your door.

What the fuck?

…

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I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 14

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 |-| Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: Time passes...

Warnings: None I think???

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58 @justheretoreadthxxs

August, 1944

Amber sparks floated through the breezeless air, the flickering flames that stretched upwards from the hardstand tarmac turning the dark sky brown with its orange glow. The stench of burning oil was almost suffocating, exacerbated by the sweltering summer heat until the atmosphere itself felt as if it were pressing down against the earth.

Skin sticky with sweat, droplets running down her forehead, Frankie stood back and watched the flames. She had unbuttoned her coveralls, shrugging off the top half and tying her sleeves around her waist to stop her trousers from falling down, nothing underneath but a sweat-soaked vest as she waited for a single, cool breeze to soothe her. Ken lay flat on his back beside her, hands folded behind his head, eyes closed against the firelight. It may have been the middle of the night now, but the sun's rays had been steadily baking the tarmac all day long, and the dark patch spreading across his back became visible whenever he sat up.

"I hate the summer," Frankie groaned, head upturned towards the heavens as if venting her frustration to God himself.

"I miss my wife," Ken complained, cross-legged on the ground as he frowned at the flames.

"Ooh, look at you, all bloody married," She teased, nudging him with the toe of her book, and wobbling off-balance as he grabbed her by the ankle.

"You would be too - whose fault is that?" He raised a knowing brow, only releasing her leg once it became apparent she was about to fall over. Frankie stumbled for a second as she caught her balance, folding her arms across her chest.

"Shut up," She muttered, ruffling his hair, cringing at its sweat-soaked dampness. "It's not the time for it - you get married before the war, like you, or you wait for after. Besides, we've only been together for - what, eight months? That's not that long."

"But he's it for you, ain't he? Rosie?" Lemmons asked. Frankie had been about to tease him for his romanticism, but hell - the guy had gotten married at nineteen. It shouldn't have surprised her. But before she could respond, a shout of greeting sounded from the darkness at the end of the runway, an involuntary smile spreading across her cheeks at the familiar voice.

"Evening!" Rosie called, half jogging towards them, his grin growing visible as he neared the blaze. He'd unbuttoned his shirt below the collar, tie long discarded, sleeves rolled up past his elbows. The humidity had unstuck his curls, the gel he religiously applied each morning all but useless - although, she'd always preferred it this way.

"It's midnight, honey," Frankie pointed out, squinting in the light of the fire as she grinned, digging the toe of her boot into the ground.

"Yeah - 's why I brought water instead of coffee," He nodded, raising his canteen, its contents so fresh and cold that a layer of condensation had begun forming around the outside. She let out a gasp, bounding the last couple of steps to close the gap between them as she snatched the bottle from him, letting out a groan of relief as the cool liquid poured down her throat.

The moment she stopped for breath, Ken had ripped the canteen from her grip, downing a huge gulp for himself. Frankie let out a pant, wiping a stray droplet from her chin. "I swear to god, if we were near a church right now, I'd marry you," She shook her head slightly in earnest, mopping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.

"Well, if I'd known it was that easy," Rosie chuckled, wrapping an arm around her neck and pulling her sideways towards him, pressing a kiss to her cheek. The salty taste of sweat lined his lips, and he let out a laugh as Frankie squirmed out of grip, yelling at Ken as she tried to wrestle the canteen from his hands before he could drink all of the water, their shadows ever-flickering in the changing light of the fire.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

October, 1944

A bubble of chatter filled the pub, jolly patrons talking and laughing over their pints as someone banged out a tune on the piano in the corner. Frankie slipped through the crowd, the wall of customers thinner than usual as she reached the bar, leaning against it with both elbows as she craned forward to catch the bartender's attention.

"Pint o' Guinness, please? Thanks, love," She grinned, nodding to the man behind the bar as he grabbed a glass, practically knowing her order before she'd even had to ask.

"Her drink's on me," An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and Frankie turned her head as one of the replacements sidled in beside her, a confident smirk creasing his cheek. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Her drink's on her. Thanks, though," She chuckled, flashing the bartender a grateful grin as he passed her pint over. Raising it to her lips, she took a sip, waiting for the awkward silence to send him off. It didn't.

"Aw, c'mon. Pretty gal like you shouldn't be buyin' her own beer - whaddya say?"

"No, no. I just said it," Frankie shook her head, still frankly amused at such a clumsy attempt at flirting. "Besides, I'm on my husband's dime... You have met the Major, right?"

A spark of panic flashed behind the pilot's eyes, and he was gone as quickly as he'd appeared, retreating back through the crowds. She let out a snort of amusement, lifting her glass slightly in a mini-toast to herself before turning back towards her table. Rosie was patiently awaiting her return, brow furrowed, frown tugging at his features as he craned his neck, watching the spot in the crowd where her unwanted admirer had disappeared.

"You alright?" He asked looking up at her as she sat down. "That guy wasn't bothering you, was he?"

Frankie let out a huff of laughter, nodding slightly. "Oh, god no. Only if you count the most embarrassing attempt at a pick-up I've ever seen as 'bothering'."

"Seriously?" Rosie's frown deepened, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as if about to stand, still peering in search of the pilot.

"Oh, sit down," She scoffed, batting at his arm with the back of her hand. "Thank you for the concern, but I'm really not bothered."

He did as she asked, but still seemed unsettled, brow pinched above his nose as he lifted his glass to his lips, sitting in silence. Frankie stared sideways at him, taking in his appearance. His jaw was clenched, and even beneath his jacket, she could tell his shoulders had gone stiff. Rosie sat quietly in an awkward state of tension, attention seemingly caught by any man who seemed to stray too close to their table on their way past. He was... oh.

"Oh my God," She breathed, wide-eyed and smiling.

"...What?"

"You're jealous!" Frankie grinned, noting the sudden flush that coloured his cheeks at this observation.

"What?! No! No," Rosie shook his head firmly, lifting his glass to his lips as he took a long sip. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him jealous before - all flustered and defensive. It was certainly amusing.

"Oh, sweetheart," She tutted, patting a hand on his thigh. "I mean, I get it - I'm one-hundred-per-cent a catch, you probably should be worried," She teased, nodding along until he began to smile.

"Stop it," He chuckled.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I invoked your rank and pretended you were my husband to scare him off," Frankie shrugged. Something flickered in Rosie's expression - something she couldn't quite interpret, but definitely enjoyed.

"... You did?"

"Mhm."

It was silent for a long moment. She took a calm sip of her beer, wiping the residual foam from her lip, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. Resisting the urge to smirk, she spoke. "... Hey honey, d'you wanna step outside for a sec-"

"Yep," Rosie was on his feet before she'd even finished her sentence and she let out a guffaw, abandoning her not-even-half-empty beer upon the table as she got up to follow, trailing behind him as they made their way towards the door.

They rounded the side of the building, stepping into the side alley where no one would walk past, and the moment they reached it his hands were on her, cupping her face as he brought their lips together, their teeth grazing against each other's as they tried not to laugh. She had a hand on his chest, then her arms were wrapping around the back of his neck, holding him as close as she could as she kissed him back, the smell of beer thick on their breath. His hands moved to her waist, squeezing slightly as she stepped back against the side wall, feeling his moustache tickly against her lip slightly as he let out a long sigh, the tension melting from his shoulders. She'd lost count of how many times they'd stood here, doing this, and yet every time it felt exciting - like they were teenagers trying not to get caught, as if anything they had between them remained even remotely secret. It had been a tiresome facade to keep up - even more so when it became apparent how bad of a job they'd been doing of it - so it felt wonderful to simply exist together out in the open.

Rosie's breath fanned her cheek as he broke the kiss for a moment, eyes still closed. "I love you."

Frankie's smile widened into a grin, tapping the tip of her nose against his. "I love you too. But not jealous, yeah?"

He lifted his hand back to her face, looking down at her with warm eyes as his thumb skimmed back and forth across her cheek. "Well, not anymore," He shrugged, beaming as she laughed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

December, 1944

"Wa-hey!" Frankie cheered as she waddled sideways in through the front door of her father's house, a bag full of boxes held up in each hand as Rosie shuffled in behind her, reaching out to pluck a few stray snowflakes from her hair. "Presents, presents, presents! We're working with a Major's salary this year, people, so get ready."

Her father stood to the side, taking the suitcases from Rosie's hands and piling them at the bottom of the stairs as the couple weaved their way further inside, hurrying to shut the door behind them before the snow could blow in too. Alice and Jill waited grinning the the doorway to the kitchen, wrangling the dog between them to stop it from darting beneath anyone's feet. Frankie had received several letters from her father about the new canine, and they'd already taken to jokingly calling it her replacement. Tugging against its collar, Jill let out a faint shriek as the dog escaped her grip, scrambling down the hall and darting beneath Rosie's feet, almost tripping him.

"Oh, hey!" He smiled, crouching down to scratch beneath its chin. "What's this guy's name, huh?"

Frankie had already disappeared to unload the presents, but a guffaw of laughter emerged from the living room as she returned, leaning against the doorway. "Yeah, go on girls. Tell 'im what the dog's called."

Alice's face turned red with embarrassment, but Jill simply bounced on the balls of her feet, practically giddy with excitement at the prospect of breaking the news. "He's called Rosie!"

Clamping a hand over her mouth, Rosie could tell Frankie was fighting the urge to laugh again, her cheeks growing pinker by the second with the effort. The dog was a scrappy little terrier, with wiry, brow fur poking out at every angle and a rather prominent under-bite. "... Wowww," He nodded, smiling back at Jill. "Yeah, I... I see it!" Frankie ducked into the kitchen, and he heard her let out a snort, earning her a glare from the younger of the two girls.

"Alright girls, leave Rosie - and... Rosie - alone," Mr Bevan boomed, face reddened with amusement as he herded the children into the kitchen. Standing up to follow, Rosie stepped cautiously around the dog, whose stare remained fixed on him as he passed, claws skittering against the floor as he followed him into the next room.

Sitting down to their Christmas dinner, it was as if he had been transported back in time to the year before, crowded around the tiny kitchen table, the clinks of silverware and glasses echoing incessantly as they passed plates of food and refilled cups of wine. He had spent the last year carefully curating a slew of flying stories for just this occasion, and the girls spent the meal on the edge of their seats, listening with pricked ears to everything he had to say. Frankie's father had never appeared to take much interest in his job - nor the war in general - and Frankie was well-versed enough in his escapades to tune them out, the pair communicating with mouthed words and vague gestures across the table, which seemed to serve them just fine.

"I'm gonna be a pilot," Jill declared, passing her plate across the table so that Frankie could cut her ham into bite-sized pieces.

"Your feet won't reach the pedals," Alice teased, rather pleased with herself. Jill looked absolutely outraged, and the pair appeared poised to fight until Frankie's voice came from the other end of the table.

"Girls," She warned, firm tone working like a sedative as they immediately shrank back into their seats. "Alice, if you've finished eating go take the vegetable scraps out to the compost, yeah?"

"But I wanted to do that," Jill whined.

"Then go help, and come finish your dinner when you're done."

Both satisfied with the compromise, the girls clambered out of their seats, arguing beneath their breaths as they fought to decide who got to carry the potato peelings, voices never raising above a mutter to avoid another scolding. Frankie let out a huff of amusement, turning back to her dinner as she poked at her pile of carrots with her fork.

"You're good with 'em," Her father pointed out. "They listen to you - I swear they bicker constantly otherwise, don't listen to a word I say."

"Think that's par for the course when there's two of 'em," Rosie smiled.

"You got siblings, Rosie?"

He hummed, nodding as he raised a hand to his mouth. "Two sisters. But I'm the youngest, so growing up it was mostly just me watching them argue."

Once dinner was over and everything had been tidied away, they hurried into the living room to let the children open the presents they'd brought, watching from the sofa as they tore at the paper with ruthless precision. Jill received a toy biplane, fashioned from tin and painted bright red, as well as the view-master she'd spent the last year begging for, and for Alice, they'd supplied a hefty stack of mystery novels. Frankie watched with a smile, a fresh glass of wine in hand as she sat sideways, legs stretched out across Rosie's lap.

And as he sat there, hand resting on her knee, he struggled to fathom how any Christmas had ever felt adequate before he'd met her. With the children at their feet, stuffing their faces with mince pies, and the blinking lights across the street casting the room in various shades of green and red, it was hard not to imagine the scene as the rest of their lives. It was hard not to wish it - so dearly that something ached within his chest.

As afternoon gave way to evening, daylight slowly dissipating, a calm fell over the house, descending into quiet. Alice had sat curled up in an armchair with one of her books until she could scarcely keep her eyes open, wandering off to bed, and after a tiring afternoon of playing fighter planes with Rosie, Jill was almost comatose, curled up at one end of the sofa as she struggled to remain conscious.

"Alright, sweetheart," Frankie cooed, crouching down to the child's level as she stroked a soft hand through her hair, gently rousing her. "Time for bed, I think."

She had expected an excuse - some poor demonstration of how she was definitely still awake and definitely didn't need to go to bed. What she was met with was a wide-eyed smile as Jill clambered down from the sofa, already padding towards the stairs on tiny feet. As she passed Rosie, she caught the cuff of his sleeve between her fingers, tugging at him until he followed. He grinned at this, turning his head back to face Frankie. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Mhm," Frankie nodded, mirroring his smile as she pressed a quick peck to his lips. "Goodnight, honey," She called after Jill, who barely seemed to notice as she hiked up the stairs.

"I've been practising the Winnie the Pooh voices," Rosie whispered quickly, stepping out of the room to follow. Frankie laughed.

"I bet you have."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

January, 1945

The officers' club was heaving with crowds, conversing in tense anticipation as the clock ticked steadily towards midnight, mere minutes left until the dawn of 1945. George's brow furrowed, a drink in each hand as she looked around, one almost finished, the other entirely untouched. It seemed almost all of Thorpe Abbotts was here somewhere, from the commanding officers to the local Land Army girls, and yet Frankie did not appear to be among them, the sound of her voice suspiciously absent.

"Where is she?" She demanded firmly, cornering Lemmons and interrupting him mid-story as his fellow mechanics backed off.

"She's not here?" He frowned, immediately catching on without even having to ask who they were talking about.

George let out a groan, rolling her eyes as she turned to walk away. If Frankie wasn't going to make it on time, she wasn't saving her drink. "Here you go, free beer - Happy New Year," She drawled, passing it off to the first stranger she passed as she shouldered her way back through the crowds.

Rosie was standing at the other end of the bar with his crew, and their gazes met, exchanging a look of resignation as they attempted to gesticulate that neither knew where Frankie had gotten to. Throwing up her hands in irritation, George downed the last of her drink, weaving her way towards the door and out into the night, a saddening departure from a party she'd otherwise been very much enjoying. Really, she just hoped she wasn't gone long enough for Blakely to notice - he'd been looking forward to a midnight kiss all week.

She made it most of the way back to the huts before noticing the light was still on inside her own. Clenching her jaw, George resisted the urge to groan aloud once more as she marched towards the door, practically throwing it open. Frankie poked her head around the doorway to the bathroom, a streak of grease still staining her cheek.

"Oh!" She smiled. "I was wondering where everyone had got to."

"Frankie," George spoke through gritted teeth. "Get your ass in the officers' club right now."

There was a pause, Frankie's brow furrowing slightly. "...Why?"

"It's fucking New Years!"

Her eyes widened. "I thought that was tomorrow!"

"It is literally the thirty-first of December - when else was it going to be?"

"I don't really look at the calendar, I just-"

"Get out here!" George yelled, voice echoing against the curved, metal roof.

"Jesus Christ, I'm coming," Frankie's brow raised as she hurried across the hut to the door. "I'm still covered in oil, though, so-"

"I really don't care," Shaking her head, George seized her by the wrist, practically dragging her back towards the club. She could almost hear the clock ticking in her mind, a constant reminder that they were running out of time, her pace quickening by the second until they were almost jogging. Frankie had begun to smile, holding back a laugh at her panicked state so as not to rile her further.

The pair were barely ten metres away from the door to the club when an uproarious cheer blared from inside, the sound of champagne corks popping a clear sign that they'd just managed to narrowly miss it. Stopping dead in their tracks, Frankie's eyes widened, turning slowly to look at George, who was already glaring daggers into the side of her head.

"George, I'm really sor-"

She was cut off as George seized her by the cheeks, leaning forward to plant a firm kiss on her forehead. Frankie frowned in confusion as the blonde pulled away, shrugging despairingly. "Right. There you go. Happy New Year, Frank, love you." Turning on her heel, she made a beeline for the door, utterly focused on whatever her remaining mission was.

"... Where are you going?"

George looked back one last time, wide-eyed and slightly crazed. "I am going to snog my fucking boyfriend!" She all but shrieked, and Frankie chuckled as she disappeared inside. Suddenly, the image of Rosie standing alone at the bar came to mind, a jolt of panic filling her with energy as she burst into motion.

"Oh, shit - wait for me!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

February, 1945

A layer of frost coated the tarmac, dozens of tyre tracks marking imperfect black streaks in the white blanket of ice as trucks rolled back and forth, crews waiting to board beside their forts as the final checks were carried out. Frankie's breath formed a frozen cloud in front of her face with each exhale, clouding her vision slightly as she stomped along the runway, fists shoved into the pockets of Egan's old sheepskin. It was a bitter morning, and she'd put on one of George's turtlenecks underneath her coveralls for the warmth, scarf wrapped tightly beneath her chin. As she approached the Riveters' fort, noticing Rosie waiting on the tarmac for her, she let her frozen scowl give way to a smile, a puff of breath materialising as he noticed her arrival.

"There she is," Rosie grinned, turning to face her as she closed the gap between them, pushing herself up on the balls of her feet in a small jump as she threw her arms around his shoulders. A laugh vibrated from his chest as he enveloped her in an embrace, rubbing his hands back and forth across her back, the action equal parts affectionate and an attempt to warm her up.

"Fifty-second mission. Jesus Christ," Frankie huffed, a distinct note of admiration in her voice.

"Let's make it a round sixty, then I'll retire," He chuckled, pressing his cheek against the side of her head.

"... You're joking though, right?"

Her question gave him pause. Was he? He supposed he had never given it much thought. But how long could he really keep pushing it before his luck ran out - before it was cruel to make her wait?

"I don't... I don't think so."

Frankie's sleeves brushed against his neck as she pulled back, just far enough to look him in the eye, a faint expression of disbelief holding back the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. The cold had mottled her cheeks, a red flush colouring the tip of her nose, and he wasn't sure he'd ever wanted to kiss her so badly.

"Are you serious?" She asked, tilting her head to look at him from an angle, as if assessing him for cracks in his facade.

"Yeah," Rosie breathed. "Yeah. We hit sixty, n' I'm done. I'll go back to America, or I'll find somewhere to stay here - I don't care, I just-" He was cut off as her lips collided with his, eyes screwed tightly shut, her face cold against his as she pulled her arms back to hold his face in her hands, gloved palms warming his cheeks. Smiling against her lips, he brought one hand to her waist, the other to the back of her head, and dipped her backwards as if they were dancing. The sudden movement made her laugh, the kiss broken for only a second before he pulled her back in.

They stayed like that for a moment, until Frankie came up for air, their clouds of breath mingling into one as they stood with their foreheads pressed together, gazes fixed on one another. "In that case," She spoke, barely more than a whisper, something glinting in her eye. "I have an idea, too."

"Oh yeah?" He grinned, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, not quite catching on. "What's that, then?"

"Robert Rosenthal," Frankie began, hands on either side of his face once more. "When you get back, I'm gonna marry you."

Rosie swore his heart stopped beating in his chest for a moment, gaping slightly, utterly unable to form a thought let alone a coherent word. His entire face must have flushed bright red, for she had started to laugh, and he wasn't sure he'd ever heard anything more wonderful. Except, perhaps, for the words she'd just uttered.

"... Yeah?" He asked, expression suddenly distorted by a lopsided grin that made him look like an overexcited puppy. Frankie nodded, beaming back up at him.

"Mhm."

Before he could stop it, a burst of ecstatic laughter escaped his throat, and he stumbled slightly, passing his weight from one foot to the other as he fought to regain his balance, Frankie's grip on him perhaps the only thing keeping him upright. "Well... In that case, maybe we'll make it fifty-five, huh?"

It had seemed impossible for her to smile wider, and yet she did, tears welling in her eyes as she fought to blink them away. But before she could reply, there came the creak of the plane hatch being wrenched open, and Pappy's voice sounded, yelling from the Riveter's belly.

"Hey, Rosie! Should I let Hitler know we're gonna be late, or what?!" He called, impatience thick in his tone. Frankie snorted, covering her face with her hands to stop herself from laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'!" Rosie exclaimed, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly as he stepped backwards out of their embrace, the flush in his cheeks still yet to dispel itself. He shot Frankie a wink, and she mirrored it in return, shoving her hands back into her pockets.

"Guess I'll see ya round," He shrugged.

She grinned, and for a split second, he would have given anything for just five more minutes out on the freezing tarmac.

"Not if I see you first."

[callsignthirsty]

Chapter 2: On the Roof

Shit weather can only stop me for so long! Here's chapter 2

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron “Slider” Kerner Summary: The boys receive their commendations, and you keep your legs crossed. Should be easy, right? Wrong. Word Count: 3680 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) Chapter: 2/4 Minors DNI Previous Chapter

“Sooo,” Maria Cortell leans as far forward as her bump will allow, drawing out the word with a smile on her lips. It’s become apparent that you’ll be waiting a while for your stolen tablemates to walk onto the stage and receive their commendations. “Are wedding bells ringing?”

Your poor heart, which had only just slowed, skips an unsteady beat. Maria’s question, for as simple as it is, packs one helluva wallop.

The thought hasn’t crossed your mind. You haven’t even said I love you—not for a lack of love, but because you’ve lost many of the ones you love over your life. Admitting the depth of your feelings—whether for family, friends, or beaus—always seems to precede an abrupt departure of said person from your life. But now that Maria has mentioned it, what are you supposed to do?

Distracted, you twist your cloth napkin between clammy hands. It’s not like you can marry Ice and Slider, but you can’t date Ice forever, either. especially not if he’s trying to climb the ladder. He’s expected to marry. To have kids. The white picket fence experience. A wife to come home to.

“They must be,” Merlin’s wife jumps in.

Maria nods with the enthusiasm you wish you felt. “Bill and I were looking at houses after three months. I’m sure you’ve at least talked about it.”

Goose throws back a full glass of wine.

They think they’re being supportive, and it would be nice if it weren’t so terrifying. “I–”

“And now’s the perfect time,” Maria doesn’t even realize she’s cut you off. “Who knows how long he’ll be stationed at Miramar?”

“Ooh! You could get married on the beach.”

Cougar catches your lack of participation. “Don’t scare her off, now,” Cougar says, placing his hand on top of his wife’s to get her attention.

“Oh please,” Laura brushes Cougar aside, “they’ve been practically wrapped around each other all night. Ron said they’ve been inseparable.”

Maria sighs. “Poor Ron.” Carole chokes, but the only one who pays her any mind is Goose, who smacks her between her shoulder blades and refills her water. “I remember how close he and Tom were at Pensacola, must be hard for him to watch his friend settle down–“ something must flit across your face because she hesitates mid-sentence, her eyes widen a little as she realizes the insinuation, and she all but lunges for the distraction of her sentry of a water glass, “–but, um, I’m sure you have a friend you could set him up with?”

“Oh,” Goose interjects loud enough to turn a couple of heads and incite a stern look from Jester, “I think this is them.”

It isn’t.

“That would be fun,” Laura coos back to Maria without skipping a beat. “Think of the double dates.”

“Come on,” Goose tries again, “you don’t want to set someone up with Kerner, do you?” And didn’t Goose know it. He squawks when Carole catches him in the ribs with her elbow, but Maria and Laura are off to the races, passing the idea back and forth and painting a picture of your future while you struggle to keep up.

“You’ll always have someone to keep you company when they end up on a carrier halfway around the world.” Maria.

A sly look from Laura. “You know, if you time it right, your kids can grow up together.”

“Community is so important,” Maria agrees, ducking around a waiter’s arm as dinner plates are settled.

“Sam and I were lucky enough to be stationed near my family when we had the girls.”

“I don’t know what I’d have done without the wives’ group while I was pregnant with Robbie.” Maria gives her husband a tender smile and smoothes a hand over her belly. Whatever she says next is drowned out by applause.

This time—as Goose breathes an “Oh, thank god”—a familiar group of flyboys are led onto the stage. The commander keeps it brief; says some words about the Layton mission and the courageous efforts of the aviators who defended the boat from enemy MiGs. Everyone gets a pin on their lapel before they’re all ushered off the stage. Your legs are crossed by the time they make it back to the table.

The rest of the dinner passes without issue. Plates are cleared. The program comes to a close with the cutting of a cake. A cacophony of music and conversation erupts as the masses are released from their seats and the event finally catches its second wind. More immediately around you, the flyboys spill into the space between their tables and continue catching up.

Hollywood and Sundown introduce their dates—fiancée and wife, respectively—to the larger group. Jester and his wife sneak off, presumably to find Viper but definitely different company. It’s a relief to gain more social padding between yourself, Maria, and Laura, well-meaning though they may be.

It’s while you’re reacquainting yourself with the rest of the group when Hollywood asks Slider if he’s flying solo these days.

“What’s it look like?” Slider grumbles.

Wolfman slings an arm around his fellow RIO’s shoulders to pull him close. “Aw, man. What happened?”

Slider gives him a half-shrug, looking otherwise unaffected. “You know how it is. Couldn’t handle the job.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Chipper chimes in. “You’re still at Miramar.”

“So she dumped you?” Wolf’s winces as he looks up at Slider, taking his silence for confirmation. “Yikes.”

“Hey, it wasn’t like that–”

“Don’t mind them,” Sundown says, an arm wrapped around his wife. She beams at him when he assures Slider,“The right one will stick around.”

And the conversation could’ve ended there. Wolf, Chip, and Sli could’ve spent the rest of the night wingmanning each other until it was time to turn in and Slider would slip into your quarters.

Maria Cortell had other plans. “Don’t be ridiculous! We were just talking about how the future missus must have a friend she can set you up with.” Cheeks flaming, you tuck into Ice’s side in an attempt to escape his gaze. “Future missus?” His tone gives nothing away, but the stiffening of his arm beneath your hand speaks volumes.

Beside Ice, Slider raises a brow. “Were you, now?” This is a conversation you were hoping to avoid.

“Please,” Pete scoffs. “I wouldn’t wish Kerner on anyone.”

Slider sneers, but it doesn’t have any real heat behind it. “Bite me, Mitchell.”

And bless Carole Bradshaw because she sees Pete opening his mouth to say, “Which one?” from a mile away and deploys a very loud countermeasure: “I wanna dance!”

Goose grabs his wife’s hand and pulls her to sit across his lap. “Great idea, honey!” he crows, earning a kiss on the cheek.

For as long as you’ve known him, Goose has always been a darling. Everyone knows it, too. The sun is hot. Water is wet. Everyone loves Goose. His close call on Hop 31 only cemented that last truth. Nick Bradshaw is magnetic in a way few others are, and he could pull a crowd just as easily at the piano as he could, apparently, at his wife’s beck-and-call.

The display of eager, honeyed affection drawing the eyes and smiles of the group.

“C’mon, Mav, give us a push!” Goose loops his arms around Carole as she makes herself comfortable in his lap for the taxi to the dancefloor. “Should be a—what did you call it?—a target-rich environment.”

“Wait. You not seeing Blackwood anymore?” Hollywood asks, receiving ‘oohs’ from the rest of the men. Pete’s shoulder’s bunch, but otherwise, he ignores his friends. Though she was a civilian contractor, Charlie did work for the DoD, and after her relocation to D.C., Pete was technically on her turf tonight.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Ice deflects.

Pete grabs hold of Goose’s wheelchair, finding it more difficult to maneuver with two passengers.  “I wonder if Penny’s here.”

Carole throws her head back with a guffaw. “After your little joyride? I’d be surprised if her daddy lets her within a thousand feet of you!”

The group doesn’t stick together much longer, inevitably breaking up as they go their separate ways.

“What do you say?” Ice asks, nodding after the group headed to the dancefloor. Eventually, Ice needs to go back to rubbing shoulders with the brass, but there’s no harm in a quick dance or two to break up the monotony.

“That’s okay, Ice,” Slider butts in, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. You repress a shiver when the same hand that had been between your legs squeezes your shoulder, fingers ghosting over the velvet near your collarbone. “You go keep Mav out of trouble. We’ll grab dessert and meet you there.”

The twitch at the corner of his lips gives away how hard Slider is fighting to keep the wolfish grin off his lips. Your ears burn, but Ice’s only reaction is an unenthused, dismissive sound. Both of you know what Slider is playing. That doesn’t stop the pinpricks of arousal from returning as you imagine Slider’s hands—both of them this time—working to finish what he’d started under the table.

“How long have we known each other?” Ice asks Slider.

“Going on ten years.”

“And I can count the number of times I’ve seen you eat cake on one hand,” Ice muses.

Undeterred, Slider offers you a lopsided, wolfish grin, his fingers tracing down your arm and raising goosebumps in their wake. “Who said anything about cake?”

“There it is.” Ice flicks Slider’s fingers from their path and threads his fingers through your own. The same Iceman mask he wears around the tarmac is firmly in place when he levels Slider with a look. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You’re pissy because I had this in the bag before I was interrupted.”

“And how were you planning on getting away with it?” Ice hisses with a glance to make sure the three of you are well enough alone. “Sitting at a table full of people.”

“I had a plan,” Slider scoffs.

“A plan to get caught with your hand up her skirt.”

“You’re just upset you walked right into it.” Ice clenches his teeth. He doesn’t have a responding quip, and Slider knows it. Ice had been too excited by the sudden appearance of Cougar to realize Slider was gunning for a quick win. “All it takes is one mistake,” Slider needles.

Wearing down the competition with technical precision is a page straight out of Ice’s book and his fingers twitch ever so slightly in your grasp, Slider rubbing it in his face that he’s fallen prey to his own game. It’s a mistake he won’t make twice.

Ice takes a deep breath and looks to the barrel-vaulted ceiling as if he’ll find the answers he’s looking for among the gold leafing. “We’re leaving now.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” Slider taunts, but Ice is back on his game. He serves Slider a smug look as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Goodbye, Kerner.”

In the dance hall, you’re a single drop in a rolling sea. The band is louder here, the floor tacky with spilled beverages, but you find a pocket of space as the music slows. Pete hangs onto the edge of the crowd with Goose and Carole, his face pressed between Goose’s shoulder blades as he helps his best friend stand to dance with his wife—Carole, you’re sure, is crying.

Gentle hands bring your focus back to your partner as he encourages you to step with him to the rhythm. When you look up at him through your lashes, you almost forget the rest of the room. Taken by the flint of his eyes in the low light. A smile bubbles to life on your rouged lips is an inevitability.

You spin beneath his arm and let Ice reel you in until his breath tickles your ear. “You’re stunning.” You glow under the praise, fingers playing with the short hairs at his nape. High praise.

It makes you wonder: does Ice even know what he looks like?

The ever-present tan of his skin highlighted by the contrasting white of his uniform. The smarts. The confidence. A beauty mark on his jaw. High cheekbones. The way he moves.

He has to know. Not for vanity, but for fact. 

“How’re you holding up?” He must pick up on the restless twitch of your muscles or maybe the flutter of your heart in your palm.

You paint on a smile. ”I’m fine.”

You can’t suppress the shudder that wracks you or the sharp intake of breath when he lifts your chin with a finger, lashes brushing your cheeks as a kiss is pressed to your forehead. When he tugs you closer, you go easily, but you’re unable to fully relax into the embrace.

“Did you know you only say you’re fine when you aren’t?” He shifts his hold so it feels more like a hug, a soft quirk to his lips. It’s easier for him to hold you like this when you fade into the crowd. There’s less pressure. Fewer eyes on him when his hand shifts lower, dexterous fingers tracing over the knobs of your spine and raising goosebumps beneath the luxurious drape of your gown.

The band does wonders to mute your gasp, but Ice doesn’t miss the way you jerk in his grasp. Sensitive.

“Was it…?” He doesn’t finish in an overabundance of caution for who may or may not be eavesdropping. The hand you’d let linger near his nape comes to fidget against his chest as you lay your head against his shoulder and nod while focusing on the ba-dum of his heart. “Do you need to leave?”

“No.” Sure, you tingle with each brush of skin on skin. Yes, you’re eager to soak up each touch. But, as you meet his eyes, you mean it. “I’m just a little overwhelmed by all of this,” you fib.

Slider may be pushing the boundaries of decency—may have definitely blown past them during the dinner— and you may be wound tight after so many days without either of their company, but you can do this. Tonight is about Ice, and you intend to see it through.

“But I don’t want to leave.”

Ice keeps you close as the song fades out and the band counts in a fast-paced number. “Look,” Ice concedes when you break free of the dancing. Playtime is over, you can practically see the cogs turning in the metal of his eyes as Ice comes up with a revised plan. “There are still some people I need to talk to, but after, I’ll get us out of–”

“Just the man I was looking for.” Ice stops so abruptly that you stumble into him. “Admiral John Benjamin,” Penny’s father introduces himself, taking Ice’s hand in a firm shake. “Really good stuff on the Enterprise.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The praise, though sparing, is well-deserved. But the obsequious nature of his comment is revealed in the way the admiral’s eyes scan the nearby crowd. Ice isn’t his target.

“Say,” the admiral drawls as he drops all pretenses, “you wouldn’t happen to know where your wingman is? I want to congratulate him on a job well done.”

You very much doubt that, but as you glance over to where Pete had been with Goose and Carole earlier, he’s long gone—Carole helping her husband back into his wheelchair, the only evidence Pete had been there at all. And Ice knows enough through retellings of Pete’s past run-ins with Admiral Benjamin that you trust him not to sell your brother out. At least, not if he doesn’t have to.

“I haven’t seen him since we received our commendation.”

“Of course. Congratulations again on those,” Benjamin clips. “But you must have some sort of idea of his whereabouts.”

“I–”

“Ice. Admiral, sir.” It never ceases to amaze you how someone as large as Slider can so easily fly under the radar when he wants to. “I need to borrow her for a minute,” he says before Ice can say anything, and because he can’t do anything when Admiral Benjamin continues to squeeze for information on Pete, Slider steers you out of the dance hall.

It had been a crisp 66 degrees in DC, the setting of the sun taking what remained of the day’s warmth with it. The cold creeps beneath your skin as Slider beckons you up the roof access, shimming the door with a wad of folded cocktail napkins so you can slip back to the party later.

Though shrouded in darkness on the flat of the rooftop, the bright lights of the capital might as well be a hair’s breadth away. Too close for comfort. Before you can protest, Slider engulfs your hand in his and looks for a more suitable, more private corner. It won’t do to be caught, though Slider doubts anyone will come looking. But it pays to be cautious.

“You have any idea how good you look in this?” Slider rumbles, voice resonating from deep within his chest in a way that makes your insides quake. He lets you know with a demanding kiss, his lips lightly stained with your rouge when he pulls back so you can suck in a breath.

“Sli.” The wind carries your whine toward the street, where it’s drowned by the brassy horns of street traffic. When goosebumps erupt along your arms, your fingers scrabble for his shoulder boards in a bid to keep him close.

It takes next to nothing to convince Slider to give in to your plea. Crowding close as he smears kisses and color down your neck. “It’s been so hard to keep my hands off you.” Said hands grab fistfuls of you over the velvet of your gown; the smooth rasp of the fabric over tender skin makes you gasp.

“You didn’t,” you point out.

“No,” he agrees, fingers reacquainting themselves with the gusset of your panties. “But can you blame me?”

“Who else would I blame?”

Dizzy with desire, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep a heady whine locked away when fingers slip between your pussy lips to tease around your entrance. “Do you want me to stop?” Slider asks with a lopsided, teasing grin.

“Don’t you dare.”

Instead of giving you what you want—two fingers to fill you where you feel hopelessly empty—Slider’s hand withdraws from your panties. You’re a second from demanding he put his hand right back where he had it when Slider lowers himself to the ground. “Wait–!” you exclaim as his first knee touches down on the unkempt rooftop floor “–your pants.”

“Don’t worry,” he says as both of his hands slip under your dress, eager fingers drawing the lacy elastic of your panties down your legs. “That’s what drycleaning’s for.” But his other knee stays decidedly off the ground.

Slider scoots himself closer, impatient hands rucking up your tight-fitting dress until he can take advantage of the slit in your skirt. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, soft skin exposed to the night, but you’re far from cold as he chases the fabric with scorching kisses up the inside of your thigh. Deliberately leaving marks where no one else at this stuffy party will see them.

His hair is just long enough that the tips begin to curl. You spear your fingers through the short waves and fist what you can. Normally, you’d hold him close as he litters your hip with hungry kisses and sharp, rosey blooms, but with the way he’d worked you up earlier, you pull his head toward the apex of your thighs. You can go back to being Ice’s pretty trophy girlfriend after you cum on Slider’s tongue.

Slider lets out a gruff rumble of a chuckle as if he’s read your mind. A nip makes your leg jump in his grasp, your heel knocking against his back, but he’s as eager to get this show on the road as you are.

Face half-obscured by black velvet, Slider’s tongue laps over your clit. Eyes slamming shut, whole body pulsing in time with your heart, head thunking back against the wall. Slack-jawed, you encourage him to do it again with a shuttered but wanton noise in the back of your throat.

“That’s it,” Slider encourages, his other hand reaching up to massage your ass and drag your hips forward in a slick grind against his mouth. You tremble in his grasp as he continues to roll your hips against his face before he opts for a new angle of attack.

A quick reposition of the leg over Slider’s shoulder grants him better access for a more thorough assault on your cunt, and your back arches when his tongue prods at your entrance. Blood roars in your ears while your walls clench around nothing at the promise of his tongue, but it only teases at your lips.

You try to drag him closer with your one leg, letting go of Slider’s hair with one hand to steady yourself against the wall. Sli takes that moment to dive in, tongue finally fucking into you and his nose bumping into your clit in a way that has your heart stuttering and limbs shaky. Your hips jolt at the touch, back arching off the wall.

It’s messy, the pinpricks of Slider’s stubble eased by the mix of arousal and spit coating the apex of your thighs. The barely muffled slurp as he parts your lips and delves his tongue inside before engulfing your clit in the wet heat of his mouth and giving it a suck.

Slider’s eyes are half-lidded when he meets your gaze. “You’re close,” he breathes, calloused fingers petting up your leg directly to your clit and drinking in the shiver it knocks loose, your lips red as you bite back a moan. “Don’t worry,” he says, two fingers dipping the slightest bit into your cunt before drawing back to rub at the opening, “we’ll get you there this time.”

Against your back, the wall rattles as the roof access bangs open.

Next Chapter

[funishment-time]

Kokichi/ general with

87 75. 73 25 and 22?

ooh, kokichi-centric! i assume this is for this ask game since it's the only one i've reblogged that goes so High!

87.)Headcanon on Pregame V3 Characters?

i have lots, but generally, my Main Headcanon with all V3 characters is that part of Tsumugi's "fictional" story is right: there is an Ultimate Hunt going on. their pregame selves are actually a memory-wiped disguise, not their true selves. the Monokubs really did give them back their talents and base memories, just also threw a bunch of fake ones in there too. and there is indeed a reality show going on but...well, i won't get into it here. long story short V3 is a reversal of Danganronpa 1 in many ways.

it's basically just what a lot of people headcanon already but in reverse. i think there's a lot to play with there psychologically still.

for Kokichi specifically, i imagine he was a timid weeb guy who really wanted to be an edgelord so bad but just didn't have the Audacity. i'm reminded a little of Charlie MoistCritikal's story about how in college he wore a CD around his neck and acted like a douche to pretend to be a Mysterious Anime Character. like that. that's what pregame!Kokichi wanted to be.

75.) Unpopular Headcanon?

general: that a lot of relationships in the main timeline wouldn't happen if they weren't backed against a wall, esp with the protagonists. i don't think Kyoko would care much for Makoto in a Normie World, but i don't think she'd care much for most folks. i don't think Kaede would be any closer to Shuichi than her other classmates either (and i'm someone who's gung-ho for a platonic soulmates thing with them). which is fine really! lots of interpretations and timelines to explore

for Keech: that Kokichi is 99% gay but would have a crush on a rare girl, like Kaede

73.) Popular Headcanon?

general: a lot of characters are actually plus-sized.

for Keech: that Kokichi is 99% gay. i guess technically he'd be bi or pan in my mind (see above) but i don't personally view him as one that cares for labels, and it's mostly guys he likes to play with

25.) Favorite Anthology Chapter?

i haven't read all the Translated/Fanslated anthologies, only the DR1 ones. (i'm not sure where to find the others. if anyone could link them to me, let me know.) but i loved the comics about Junko and Mukuro before Muki really had a defined personality of her own, and she was kind of just the annoyed older sister being dragged along on her crazy younger sister's stupid schemes. i'm reminded of the one where they temporarily adopt Mondo because he can't get a girl and become the Despair Triplets. crack central.

i also like the one where a blank-faced Kyoko just hides in things like a cat to find out where people might hide a body. and the one where she throws a horseshoe crab into a pot of stew everyone's making. they are genuinely close to how i imagine Kyoko really is on a personal level: just kind of a Beautiful Freak who doesn't interact with reality very much

22.) Favorite Random/Unnecessary Moment?

Hiro's dumb fucking stories about his life. the UFO burger abduction and the 100% unnecessary aside about how his dad burned down their house because he was smoking in bed (i assume that's why Mrs. Hagakure mentions she's divorced in UDG) and even Makoto's like ???? god bless Yasuhiro

[biggestsukunafan]

new chapter posted in my wattpad (please read it)

wattpad link

SNEAK PEAK!!

As the group made their way back home, the evening sun cast long shadows on the pavement, its warm glow adding a soft, golden hue to the scene. Kirishima and Mina led the group, their footsteps light and carefree as they chatted and laughed, their voices blending into the sounds of the bustling city around them.

Mina's energy was contagious, and her laughter rang out, bright and unrestrained, while Kirishima, ever the supportive friend, grinned widely at her antics, his own mood elevated by her enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Katsuki and I trailed behind. The air between us was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional comment from the pair up ahead.

"The last few questions were the worst!" Mina's voice pierced through the quiet, her frustration evident as she threw her hands up in the air for emphasis. Her animated gestures made Kirishima chuckle, and he nodded in agreement, his red hair catching the light as he did.

"Yeah, seriously! But hey, at least the rest of the week we won't have school!" I chimed in, offering a small smile. The thought of a break after the grueling exams was a relief, and I hoped to lift their spirits.

"Thank god!! I'm so glad the exams are over. They were way too hard this time!" Mina responded, her voice tinged with genuine relief. She seemed to relax a bit, as if just talking about it was enough to release some of the tension she'd been carrying.

"It was okay, I guess," Kirishima added, his tone more laid-back. "Some parts were really tough, though, bro." He laughed softly, scratching the back of his head, and for a moment, his usual unshakable confidence seemed a little less certain.

Suddenly, Mina's eyes lit up with a new idea, and she bounced on her toes, barely able to contain her excitement. "OOH WHAT IFFF... We reward ourselves by going on a small trip!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a newfound enthusiasm that quickly spread to the rest of us.

Kirishima's grin widened at the suggestion, his eyes sparkling with interest. The idea of a trip clearly appealed to him, and he quickly jumped on board. "A trip?? That sounds dope! What do you think, dude?" He turned to Katsuki, hoping to get his input.

Katsuki, who had been walking with his usual air of indifference, seemed momentarily surprised by the question. His brows furrowed slightly as he considered it, his gaze flicking to me for a brief second—so quick that if I hadn't been watching him closely, I might have missed it. Then, just as quickly, his usual guarded expression returned.

check wattpad for continuation! ^_^

[whatwouldsylwrite]

hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt7

pt 6

to: Abby

Do you want to come over tonight?

Minors don't interact!!!! This is an adult work meant for adults, I'm really uncomfortable with anyone younger than 18 reading this, so please move on.

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, reader is into sexy/girly dances, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov. Smut. Oral (r! receiving, Abby!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), pet names, vanilla sex

Notes: this is their first time, so there's no kinks yet, they're just exploring and getting to know each other, so it's pretty vanilla. I actually wanted to include a lot more, but this chapter is so long I had to cut some parts out. :(

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It was a Friday night, your tv was buzzing with some reality show as you were doing your homework, not paying any attention to the tv - you really wanted to finish the whole load before tomorrow, because your weekend was fully booked by Abby. 

So you worked through every assignment without any breaks for a few hours, until your head started to hurt - not the smartest decision, you admit, but you really just wanted to finish your homework and then just chill for the rest of the evening, letting your brain shut down on some ridiculous show. 

"Fuck." You sighed as you looked through the last assignment. Thank god it wasn't as time consuming as some of them were. 

It took you another half an hour to finish it, and when you looked at the time, it was over seven. Your head hurt, your stomach was screaming for anything sweet, and you really wanted a shower, as if the water would wash away your irritation and tiredness.

But it was worth it - you'd have your weekend free, a whole weekend with Abby, without practice and homework, without any worries and stupid responsibilities. Sometimes you missed being a teen, when you didn't have to take care of everything. "The real horror of adulthood - decide what you want for dinner every fucking day", you thought as you remembered the tweet you saw some time ago. 

Abby took her skates off, feeling tired and irritated - Eric was so fucking annoying with his training and useless comments, picking on everyone like as if he wanted the whole team to kick his ass. Boys were grumpy as well, bitching all the time while they changed, but Abby didn't pay attention to them until Manny sat next to her.

"You wanna go out tonight? I need to get wasted to forget about this asshole." Manny nodded in the general direction of the coach room. 

"No, I'm going home." Abby said shortly as she checked her dms. 

You sent a photo of yourself looking absolutely done with your homework, your hair a mess, your brows stubbornly furrowed. Manny immediately put his nose in Abby's phone as she sat there, just smiling at your picture. 

"Ooh, so that's (y/n) in her natural habitat." Manny smirked, knowing he'd get a reaction out of Abby. 

"Fuck off." Abby said and put her phone away from him. 

"What, don't want to show your sweetheart to your best bro?" 

"I swear to god, Manny." Abby rolled her eyes. "Go to your weather girl and leave my girlfriend alone."

"And not tease you? Sorry Abs, not happening." Manny laughed as he ducked Abby's pads she threw in his face. "Have a nice evening!"

"Fuck you too!" Abby shouted in response as she packed her things and went home. 

You left your shower feeling a lot better than before. Chocolate probably helped too, but it wasn't real food, and you needed to cook something before you'd give up and just not eat anything. 

You went to your room to change, and while you were changing you listened to how quiet your apartment was. It was the eerie silence of living by yourself, the constant reminder of lonely independence. It took you a long time to get used to the quiet, but sometimes you'd feel so fucking lonely, curled up in front of your tv, the darkness of the apartment surrounding you, trying to choke you out of the existence. 

You knew Abby had practice today - you looked at the clock - she should have finished already. She was probably tired, though. You worried your lip as you sat on your bed, naked, the water dripping from your hair to your back, giving you an unpleasant shudder, and opened your dms. 

Abby already saw the picture you've sent her during the most frustrating part of your homework.

from: Abby

looks like your hw kicked your ass

Fuck you, you laughed in your head as you typed your reply.

to: Abby

*I* kicked its ass, because I finished it

You tapped your fingers on your phone case, nervous. You really wanted to see Abby, but you also didn’t want to impose. She was tired after practice, and she’d have to drive to your place… But you could just relax together, watch something, you’d make some food for her. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right? She could just say no and it’d be totally fine. 

to: Abby

Do you want to come over tonight?

Why, why did your heart pick up its pace? Why did you suddenly feel so nervous? You just asked Abby if she’d like to come to your place, it was normal, it was fine, you were dating, for god’s sake. Abby’s been to your place before, and you just cleaned your apartment, you shouldn’t be worried about it at all. Maybe it was because Abby could say no today? Maybe it was because you meant it as a sleepover? 

You checked your phone - Abby wasn’t online, which disappointed you a little, so you put your phone in your pocket and went to the kitchen to start cooking. You figured you'd cook enough for a few days - especially if Abby'd come tonight, since her hockey training required a lot of energy, and therefore a lot of food. And if Abby wouldn't come then you wouldn't have to worry about your meals for the entire weekend. 

The thought of Abby not coming made you sad, but you scolded yourself for being so selfish and needy - Abby was your girlfriend, not your mom to fix all your problems. You still reached for your phone anyway - still no answer. 

"Okay." You sighed, nervous, knowing you needed a distraction as your patience was running thin. You took all ingredients you needed and started to cook, getting your mind off "did she answer" loop in your head.  

Abby went out of the shower and fell on her bed, feeling pleasantly tired. She wasn't exhausted physically, but dealing with Eric's shit left her low-key irritated. Some days he was just insufferable and Abby wished the poor asshole just got laid and maybe that'd calm him down. 

Abby sighed and closed her eyes, trying to calm down herself. She needed to think about something pleasant - her weekend plans with you for example. Abby missed you, not seeing you properly the whole week - you caught each other every chance you got, and spent too much time in her car after practice, you not wanting to go home and Abby not wanting to let you go. 

And now the whole weekend would be for the two of you. You asked Abby if she really wanted to do rock climbing, but she had to admit she was afraid of heights - it was embarrassing, she knew, but you just nodded and said you'd keep it in mind, to Abby's relief. You asked her for another skating lesson and Abby agreed, happy she'd get to hold you in her arms again - that was your plan for Sunday evening. And tomorrow Abby wanted to take you on a day trip to the next town and just walk around, find some interesting places. 

Abby smiled and rubbed her face, slightly embarrassed by how bad she had it. She knew she was a lovesick idiot, but sometimes it was hard to embrace it. 

Abby sat up on the bed and reached for her phone that she left in her backpack. 

from: dancing queen

Do you want to come over? (sent 40 minutes ago)

Abby's heart stopped but started beating twice as fast right away, her cheeks flushed. Was it what she thought it was?

No, knowing how shy you were - no way you asked this question with any subtle meaning. But Abby couldn't help but feel a little optimistic. It was evening, you definitely asked her to stay the night, and she just couldn't ignore her annoying thoughts. 

You sent it 40 minutes ago - was it when Abby parked her car? She should have seen it if it was sent before, god, was she in a shower for 40 minutes? No she wasn't, she unpacked her gym bag first and put her uniform in the washing machine. 

Was your offer still up? Or maybe you changed your mind? Got tired of waiting for her response? 

That was asking for some serious measures, and Abby pressed call, not taking a chance with texting in case you wouldn't see her messages. You picked up after four antagonising dial tones and Abby started feeling nervous. 

"Hi." You said, sounding like you were busy. "Wait, gimme a sec." 

"Okay." Abby said as she listened to you turning water on and off. "You okay?"

"Yeah." You said, panting a little. Abby got worried she blew her chance - you were definitely not free right now. Why the fuck she didn't check her phone before going to the shower? "Okay, I'm here."

"Is your offer still up? For me to come over?" Abby asked, ridiculously nervous.

"Yeah." You said shyly. "You don't have to, I know you just finished your practice and you're tired, I don't want to-"

"I'll at yours in 20." Abby interrupted you, too eager to calm you down. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah. See you." She said to you quietly. 

"See you." 

Abby ended the call and ran her hand through her hair, calming herself. Okay, you were still up for it. Abby tried to push her stupid horny thoughts down, but you asking her to come over on Friday night was like a pavlovian for her. You didn't mean it, but Abby would kill for you to mean it. 

Abby eyed her other backpack, feeling optimistic again. She emptied her bed drawer into her backpack, you know, just in case. Never in her life Abby got ready faster than now - in 10 minutes she was locking her door, her hair half-dry and brushed, her clothes clean and her backpack filled with a change of clothes and other stuff. The ride to your apartment took her a little bit longer than ten minutes and she was five minutes later than she promised, but it didn't matter.

What mattered was her ringing the bell to your apartment. 

You opened the door and immediately smiled at Abby, your eyes twinkling with happiness. 

"Hi." You stared at her for a second and then moved out of the way. "Come in."

Abby put her backpack down and finally looked at you, regretting it immediately: you were wearing skintight top and Abby could see fucking everything, because you weren't wearing a bra. Oh fuck, she thought as she tried to look away from your chest. And these stupid short shorts you wore at home, Abby was going to die here.

 

"Are you hungry?" You asked, unconsciously moving closer to Abby, taking her hand in yours. She looked flushed, but you didn't mind. You also didn't mind her eyes flicking to your chest - her stare sent shivers down your spine, making you want to arch into Abby. "I've made some food."

"Starving." Abby chuckled and pulled you to her, kissing you. It was a gentle kiss, her hands a soft pressure on your waist, and you melted against her, letting her hold your weight. "Missed you."

"Me too. Felt lonely without you." You admitted, a little embarrassed of your weakness. You caressed Abby's shoulders, marvelled by her strength as she held you close. "Are you going to stay for the night?"

"If you let me." Abby shrugged playfully. 

"If I let you." You teased her. "You're the one who should be letting me beg you to stay, you know." You pinched her cheek gently and led Abby to the kitchen. 

Abby let go of your hand and just towered behind you, her chest to your back, her hands on your hips, as you put food on two plates. You swallowed as your desire to just arch back into Abby became too powerful and you tentatively pushed back, trying to not turn this moment into something more heated. Abby sighed into your neck and her grip on your hips became stronger. 

"What do you want to watch?" You asked, cosily quiet. 

Abby buried her nose in your neck, making you giggle from tickling. 

"The one we spoke about a week ago." Abby said not lifting her head from your shoulder. 

"Okay." You smile to yourself. "Come on, let's move." 

Abby slowly moved away and took a plate you gave her, pouting a little: she really didn't want to let you go. 

You went to the living room and while you two tried to find a more comfortable way to sit, you searched up the movie - it was a french comedy someone recommended to Abby, and you've seen the trailer and liked it. It took some time to find it, but you put it on and you both started eating while the introduction rolled. You secretly hoped Abby'd like your cooking - like if you were showing her what a wife material you could be. And, judging by her little moan and her head thrown back - she liked it. You hid your smile, but Abby noticed anyway.

"I'm marrying you tomorrow, (y/n)." Abby said as she put a fork in her mouth. "What did you put in it? Magic?"

"Garlic and ginger." You giggled. 

You finished your food pretty quickly, both of you were too hungry to go slow, and you went to the kitchen to put your plates in the sink. You poured two cups of tea and came back, to find Abby in a different position than before.

She was sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading, and when she saw you, she patted the place between her legs, inviting you to sit there. You smiled and put your cups next to Abby so you could reach them, and sat between her legs. 

Abby immediately snaked her hands around your waist, pulling you closer without any effort and your breath hitched in your throat: Abby held you close to herself, pressing your back to her chest, her chin on your shoulder, her strong thighs on both sides of you. You felt safe like this, surrounded by Abby, and you leaned on her, relaxing and putting your head on her shoulder, breathing her in. Abby always smelled like something cold and soothing - maybe because she spent a lot of time on ice, but her scent always reminded you of the first days of spring when snow started to melt. 

The movie was good, Abby had to admit, but having you in your arms was better. Abby liked how you relaxed right away, letting her touch you everywhere she wanted, caressing your waist and your ribs and your thighs absentmindedly as she watched the movie. And the way you shook against her when you laughed - adorable. Abby pressed a few affectionate kisses to your shoulder, just appreciating your existence, and you relaxed even more, your weight pleasantly heavy on her. 

Abby liked this reaction, so she pressed more kisses into your bare shoulder - you went soft in her arms and Abby just couldn’t get enough of it, making you feel safe was her fucking drug. She moved her lips up, planting slow tender kisses on your neck, not really trying to work you up, just enjoying being gentle with you, but you sighed sharply as Abby kissed you pulse point, her lips lingering on your skin for a second. This little sound made Abby’s eyes open wide and her core throb - maybe she wasn’t trying to work you up, but you were definitely getting there. 

Abby lifted her head from your shoulder and looked you in the eyes, checking if you were enjoying yourself as you turned to her. Her serious, studying eyes met your glossy ones, and something snapped. 

You reached for Abby’s face desperately and kissed her, your whole body trembling as you weaved your fingers into her hair. Abby deepened the kiss, her tongue slowly playing with your tongue as she lifted you up and turned you so you’d sit in her lap. You whimpered quietly - the ease with which Abby moved you made your underwear hot with sudden wetness. Abby kissed you wet and dirty, her hands moving up your naked thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until she reached your butt and grabbed it  hard, her nails slightly digging into your body. You sighed into her mouth and caressed her neck and broad shoulders, so solid against you. 

You pulled away, trying to catch your breath, and Abby watched you with a small smile. Horny looked good on you.

“That’s not why I asked to come over.” You whispered. You didn’t want Abby to feel pressured into anything, to think you only invited her to stay the night because you wanted to have sex. 

“I know.” Abby whispered with a small smile as her hands held your waist. She knew what you were trying to say, and her heart overflowed with affection. “Do you want to stop?” 

You smiled and shook your head, stroking Abby’s nape gently.

“Words, baby.” Abby grinned as she watched your eyes go big with surprise when she used the pet name. “I need you to say it.”

Consent was important for Abby, especially since she could easily overpower you. She needed to hear that you wanted this, to have this confirmation. She couldn’t imagine doing something that would upset you because she read your non-verbals wrong. 

“Want you, Abby, I want you.” You whispered, not looking at Abby - too embarrassed to admit your desire so blatantly.  But if Abby needed to hear it, it didn’t matter if you were embarrassed - her comfort was your top priority. Abby tilted your face, trying to make you look at her.

“You’re nervous.” Abby stated when she noticed how you fidgeted with her hoodie. She didn’t like it - she wanted you to feel happy and relaxed with her.

“A little.” You admitted and smiled, giggling when Abby tried to catch your eyes, turning her head at all angles possible.

“Am I scaring you?” Abby asked playfully and stroked your back.

“Big bad Abby.” You laughed. “No. Just want to do it right.”

“I don’t think there is a wrong way, (y/n).” Abby kissed your jaw. “Really, if you want to stop, it’s totally cool.”

Now Abby looked at you, serious, as she searched your face for any sign of discomfort, so tuned to your body she could tell if you were even slightly tense, but you smiled and kissed her gently.

“You’re so sweet.” You said and moved away, creating a distance between the two of you. Abby tried not to read it as a sign you wanted to stop, but as the distance grew bigger, she became more sure that this was it. “Let’s move it to the bedroom.” 

Abby blinked and smiled brightly when the meaning of your words finally caught up with her. Abby kissed you again, her hands roaming your body, squeezing you painfully. Abby grabbed your thighs and suddenly you were in the air, clinging to Abby for dear life. 

"Fuck." You said, a little bit shocked as Abby hoisted you up, her lower stomach pressing just right between your legs. "Warn me next time." You laughed and snaked your hands around Abby's neck. 

Abby smirked and kissed your collarbones, making your hole clench on nothing - you were getting so wet, too wet, and nothing really happened yet. 

"Abby." You inhaled sharply, your fingers squeezing her shoulders.

"Yeah?"

"Bedroom."

Abby chuckled against your neck and carried you to the bedroom while her hands continued kneading your butt. You were so fucking soft in her arms, it was so easy to carry you Abby felt drunk on how much stronger she was, how effortlessly she could just move you and hold you and not let you do anything, leaving everything to her. 

Abby lowered you down on the bed and you pulled her with you, making her press you into the bed as you kissed her. You spread your legs further, making Abby press into you as her hand caressed your thigh lightly, admiring how soft and warm you were. 

Abby broke the kiss and sat between your legs and this view alone made you ache, made it hard to breathe. She looked serious, her strong hands crawling up your thighs, her wide shoulders moving up and down as she breathed heavily. You sat up and tugged her hoodie up, literally not able to take it anymore, you needed to see her. The hoodie came off, leaving Abby in her sports bra, her muscles, her strength on display.

"Oh my fucking god." You whispered, mesmerised. "Fuck, Abby." You ran your fingers over Abby's abs and  she flexed her muscles instinctively, causing the wetness pool in your panties, the pressure building behind your clit. You looked at her with wide eyes as you got closer to feel her skin under your lips. 

You left open mouthed kisses on Abby's side, holding her hips. She was warm and solid and she tasted just as she smelled - cold and mouthwatering. You couldn't get enough, your hands travelled lower and you groaned - Abby had a V line, fucking hell. 

Abby watched you worship her body and her breathing became heavy, her hunger growing with each second and her boxers getting wetter after every kiss - your soft mouth drove her crazy, your genuine admiration getting to her heart dangerously close. Abby knew girls enjoyed her physique,  but there was something different about your reaction - you were gentle with her, smoothing her edges in a way that scared her, but left wanting more. Abby needed you to cum, to feel good, to come apart in her hands again and again until you couldn't anymore. 

"Doll, look at me." Abby panted and gently lifted your head. You looked up at her, your eyes shining and your cheeks flushed. "Fuck, you're so pretty." Abby kissed you, hungry and getting a little rough from her desperation, but you didn't mind, clinging to her with your whole body. "Can I take it off?" 

"Yeah." You whispered, exhilarated when Abby's fingers hooked the bottom of your top. She was slow, as if she was opening a present she wanted her whole life and now couldn't believe she had it, and you suddenly felt impatient from your own excitement, buzzing with arousal.

The top came off and Abby stared at you, unblinking. You were so goddamn beautiful: your cute shoulders, the soft line of your neck, your round pretty tits with hardened nipples, the delicate line of your waist - Abby wanted to devour you. You looked divine, you looked holy to her and she wasn't sure she should be allowed to touch you. 

"Lie down." Abby told you and you leaned back, spreading your legs so Abby'd fit between them. "Fuck." Abby said as she watched you, lying on your pillows all pretty and inviting. 

Abby's hands were fucking shaking as she leaned to you, your naked stomachs touching. You sighed and bucked your hips up without thinking, just craving Abby's touch - skin on skin contact wasn't enough, you needed her strong gentle hands on you. Abby used one of her hands to push your hips down, stopping you from moving completely and you whimpered, bucking your hips again, now because her strength turned you on even more, but Abby didn't let you, pressing you back even harder, and you shuddered. 

"Do you need something, doll?" Abby asked as she kissed your neck, grinding a little against you. You suddenly relaxed under her and spread your legs wider, your brows furrowed as Abby's lower stomach pressed into your pussy. "Tell me." 

"Are you teasing me?" You asked as you swallowed a quiet moan.

"I'm asking." Abby breathed in your skin, addicted to your scent: you smelled like warmness and home to her. She licked a long strip on your neck, from your collarbones to your ear and smirked when you made a little mewling sound in her ear. She was genuinely asking, but she couldn't help but tease you a little.

"Can you touch me?" You asked shyly, not even meaning touching your pussy - you'd get there eventually - you just wanted her hands on you. "Like-" You swallowed and stroked her sides. "Like that?" 

Abby melted.

She nodded and squeezed your sides, spreading her fingers over your waist and hips, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the solid firm pressure from Abby’s hands.

"Like that?" 

"Yeah." 

Abby kissed you and moved down, putting her mouth over your nipple, swirling her tongue around your bud. You arched into her, choking on air, your body like a naked wire, but she held you down again. Abby looked at you, stupidly turned on from your reactions.

"You're sensitive." Abby stated in amazement and smiled, so fucking pleased with this fact about you. 

You didn't have time to even think what to say to Abby as she sucked on your nipple and grinded on you, watching your reaction with hunger: she saw it once and nothing would tear her away from you now. You whimpered, your nails digging in Abby's shoulders as she continued playing with your nipples: her tongue on one nipple and her fingers on the other as she pressed her body flush against your pussy.  You felt how wet you got, soaking through your underwear - you probably had a wet spot on your shorts now - but you didn't care as long as you had Abby's hands and mouth on you. 

Abby moved back to your face, admiring you, all flushed and panting. You smiled at Abby and pulled her into the kiss, barely maintaining it as you couldn't stop smiling. 

Abby touched the waistband of your shorts and looked at you, serious again. 

"I'm going to take them off." Abby said, waiting for your confirmation. 

"Good idea." You giggled and watched Abby undress you completely. She took your underwear with your shorts, not wasting any time. 

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." Abby said tenderly, her gaze making you blush as she looked you over. "What do you like?"

"I-uh." You tried to get your thoughts together. "Anything?"

Abby nodded and spread your legs with her hand, caressing your thighs in the process. You shivered when you felt cool air on your wet hole and you covered your face, a little embarrassed when you noticed how intensely Abby was staring between your legs.

Abby felt her mouth water when she saw how wet you were, the desire to make you feel good overpowering her. You were so responsive it made her want to touch you even more, but your shyness melted her heart. 

"Hey, don't be shy." Abby chuckled as she caressed your pelvis lightly. "You're so pretty." 

"Fuck you." You laughed affectionately and moved your hand from your face to look at Abby, who was grinning at you. 

And then Abby moved down, leaving lingering kisses on your stomach until she was right in front of your pussy, her shoulders keeping your legs apart. Abby snaked her hands around your thighs, locking you in one position, and you caught your breath, just staring at her. You couldn't move, her grip on you was unyielding. 

Abby kissed your thighs gently, making you relax again: this feeling was so fucking addicting, just watching you visibly unbend and just accept what was happening - it pressed Abby's buttons in ways that her mind got even filthier, imagining if you could let go completely and let her do whatever she wanted with you. 

Abby pressed on your thighs, spreading them even wider to open you up for her, all pretty, wet and hot. Abby smirked and licked you from your hole all the way up to your clit, the tip of Abby's tongue making you twitch in her hands from sudden painful pleasure. Too much, Abby thought and relaxed her tongue on your clit, circling it softly. She watched your breath hitch and eyes flutter, the soft, quiet sounds leaving your lips as she played with your clit. You were so wet and tasted so fucking good Abby didn't want to leave your thighs ever again. 

Abby's mouth felt so good on you, you couldn't even think as she sucked on your clit, making you fucking jump in her arms, but she held you down without breaking her movements and doubled her efforts, sucking and licking and swirling her tongue until your heavy breathing turned into loud moans. 

"Abby, fuck-" You managed to say between your high whines. "Jesus-" 

But Abby ignored you, keeping her pace steady on your clit, her chin covered in your slick. She felt how twitchy you got, and she smirked knowing you were close, so she sped up just a little, cautious not to overwhelm you and break the spell before you'd cum for her.

Abby's tongue was pulling you down and down and down, drowning you in syrupy pleasure, building you up to the inevitable as your thighs started to shake and your voice became high pitched, your moans broken and choked. You grabbed Abby's forearm as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"Fuck- ohmygod- abby- Abby!" You screamed, oh god Abby made you fucking scream and she wasn’t stopping, she wasn’t stopping, her tongue lightly moving up and down your pussy, collecting your wetness as she licked you clean. It made you blush and you covered your face again as you tried to get your body under control.

The hold on your thighs eased up and Abby kissed your stomach, her tongue hot on your skin. She took her time, worshipping you as she placed soft kisses on your body: you were so soft and delicate she couldn’t believe she actually got to touch you. Abby moved up and gently moved your arm away from your face.

“Hey.” Abby said as she smiled at you, so tender it was almost unbearable. You looked so good, still twitching after your first orgasm, and Abby looked into your eyes, trying to remember every little line and every blush and how your breathing wasn’t evened out yet, but you were smiling back at her.

“Hi.” You giggled and put your trembling fingers on Abby’s neck. You looked at each other and broke into happy giggles. “Gimme a sec, I need my body to stop shaking and then it’s your turn.”

“That good, huh?” Abby smirked and you blushed. “Actually. Do you think you can go again?” Abby asked, her hand moving down to your hip, tracing circles on your hip bones. 

"Yeah." You nodded, a little confused, and then Abby's hand moved further down. "Oh, you mean now." You giggled at your own obliviousness.

"Yeah." Abby whispered as she watched you, her hunger back. "Wanna see you cum again, you're so fucking beautiful."

You looked at Abby with wide eyes and kissed her desperately, her words messing with your heart, turning you into butter. 

Abby pulled away, wanting to see your face when she'd push inside you. She moved her fingers through your folds, so gentle and careful, and you felt one finger circling your hole. You shuddered in anticipation, looking back at Abby, her pupils so dilated she almost lost all blue in her eyes. And then she pushed her finger inside and you couldn't even make a sound. You were still tight and wet after your last orgasm, and Abby's finger felt amazing as she slowly stroked your walls.

"Fuck, (y/n)." Abby whispered and kissed your neck, sucking a hickey into your skin. 

She wanted to be careful with you, to keep you relaxed until your pleasure would build up enough for you to start making these pretty high noises. Abby curled up her finger, looking for your sweet spot, and suddenly your thighs closed on her arm and you whimpered. 

"There you go." Abby smiled, enjoying you. She eased up a little, giving you a chance to exhale. "Breathe, baby.” She chuckled when she noticed you held your breath. 

You inhaled sharply and your thighs relaxed, not locking Abby’s arm anymore.

"Good girl." Abby said affectionately, so pleased with you and you whined, your head suddenly fuzzy.

You looked at Abby: she was so gorgeous, her face calm and her cheeks faintly pink with a bunch of freckles you wanted to kiss, her hair tucked behind her ears - god you loved when her hair was down. You ran your hand from her neck to her waist, adoring all soft warm skin under your fingertips as she thrusted into you, your breathing turning from sighs to moans.

“Do you want another one?” She whispered in your ear, making you shudder, her mouth working another hickey on your pulse point. 

“Yeah.” You gripped Abby’s hair gently and she pressed her mouth harder to your neck. 

Abby pulled her finger out and you felt empty and a little cold, but then you felt two fingers pressing inside. Abby pushed them in slowly, marvelling by how soft and tight you were around her, how you looked at her, your eyes a little foggy while you smiled a little. Abby curled her fingers and you clenched around her, whimpering, and Abby felt her own hole clench in response. Fuck it was hot.

You felt so full, Abby’s fingers pressing everywhere, ripping sounds out of you on each thrust. Your skin was on fire, each nerve trembling as Abby sped up, her fingers pressing against your sweet spot, as absolutely obscene wet sounds joined your whimpers. It took a little longer to bring you over the edge, but Abby didn’t break her relentless pace until you cried out for her, your walls clenching and pulsating around her fingers as you came, shaking so violently Abby had to use her other hand to hold you down as you twitched uncontrollably while coming down from your high. 

Abby watched you, spellbound, as you came on her fingers, your throat bared for her, purple marks blooming everywhere: you were hers, only hers, and you were so beautiful, like a fucking angel.

"There you go, doing so good for me." Abby praised you as she pulled her fingers out slowly, watching your blissed out face.

Suddenly there was pressure on her shoulders as you made her lie back while your trembling fingers went under her sports bra.

“I wanna see you.” You said in a shaky voice, barely standing up, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm, sticky with your slick. “Can I go down on you?”

Just hearing these words coming out of your mouth made Abby groan - she wanted to fuck you again, but you looked so desperate and wanting she couldn’t refuse. She really couldn’t say no to you, could she? 

Abby sat up and helped you undress her completely, blushing a little under your hungry eyes. You nestled between Abby’s thighs and tried to just absorb her, your eyes roaming over her body, so fucking powerful and beautiful and perfect. You leaned down to Abby and kissed her neck while your hands ran up from her thighs to her waist. Fuck she was magnificent, firm lines mixed with soft flesh. 

“I wanna fucking inhale you.” You said into the crook of her neck, dizzy with desire. Abby’s breath caught in her throat, her ears ringing and her pussy aching because of your words, that were filled with raw obsession. 

“Holy shit, doll.” Abby sighed and tried to get you to lift your head, but you were already moving down, leaving sweet kisses on Abby’s collarbones and stomach.

You cupped Abby’s tits carefully and she closed her eyes, enjoying your touch. You smiled and took her nipple into your mouth, sucking on it gently, and Abby made this low appreciative noise that went straight to your clit. Abby was much quieter than you, but it only turned you on more, listening to her soft fast breathing as you went down, kissing her abs, her sides, mouthing at her muscles as she flexed, her breath hitching every time you placed a new kiss on her skin. You couldn’t get enough of her: you traced Abby’s v-line with your tongue and then planted open-mouthed kisses on conjunctions of her hips, nuzzling in the dips as Abby spread her thighs wider. 

“Can I ask you for something?” You asked as you moved all the way down, getting comfortable between Abby’s thighs. 

“Yeah.”

“Will you be able to keep still?” You mouthed at her thighs, looking Abby in the eyes. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold her down, but you wanted her to let you do what you needed to do.

Abby was surprised by your request, but it only turned her on - it was nearly impossible not to move in this situation, but you asked her - and your wish was her command.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” You said and buried your face between Abby’s thighs.

Abby twitched but stopped herself from moving, letting you do whatever you want. You opened your mouth and put it over Abby’s pussy, slowly flicking her clit with your tongue. Abby squeezed the pillow behind her and hissed, her orgasm already close: she’s been close since she pushed her fingers inside you. And now Abby had you between her legs and she had to stop herself from moving while your tongue played her like musical instrument and she knew she wouldn’t fucking last. 

“Fuck.” Abby gasped when you gently sucked on her clit, her thighs trembling by the sides of your head. Your mouth felt fucking amazing, and Abby felt her lower stomach tighten, so fucking close. 

Abby tentatively moved her hips up to meet your tongue, bucking up so slightly and so gently - she didn't want to take your control away, but she was almost there. You put your hands on her hip bones and helped her grind against your mouth so tenderly you'd think she was being shy, but Abby moved so precisely you figured that was something she liked, and your heart ached: this powerful woman was so delicate in your arms right now. You met her movements with your soft tongue, flicking her clit until she started to lose her pace. Abby was close, so you gently pressed her hips back to the bed - more accurately, Abby let you press her back to the bed - and sped up, desperate to give Abby her orgasm. 

"Holy fuck." Abby moaned quietly, her voice shaking a little. "Just like that, baby- oh fuck-" She managed to say and in the next second Abby was pulled under as her body exploded, the long groan ripping from her lungs, her hands clutching the pillow so hard she might have torn the fabric. 

You watched Abby obsessively, your mouth slack against her: she was gorgeous, her chest heaving with her fast breathing as the reality came back to her. You moved up to kiss Abby, lying on top of her.

"Hey, (y/n)." Abby called, panting, her eyes are still closed, but her hands were already on you, caressing your back and your waist.

"Yeah?" You kissed her cheek, her nose, her eyes, buzzing with happiness.

Abby opened her eyes and you pressed your thighs together under her dark determined gaze: she looked at you like you were her prey and she finally caught you.

"Can you go again?"

[samsgff]

CHAPTER 2!!

A few hours had passed, Dean woke up all confused, not recognizing the house he was in, only because whenever he used to hangout with Bobby it was never at his house.

He got up slowly, placing his hand over his head since it was pounding like it had been hit by a hammer. The boy opened the window quietly and jumped out, he began wandering around looking for a way to get as far as he could from this place, and that's when his eyes caught a beautiful mesmerizing car. It was a 1967 black chevy impala. His eyes teared up as he slowly traced his fingers all over it remembering the wonderful times him and his family spent in it. He opened up the door and got inside and realized that he did not have the keys.

"I must have left them inside" he whispered under his breath.

The winchester jammed up the car and drove off, not even understanding how he managed to do that.

The house went back to being completely quite. Bobby had grabbed a bottle of beer and was ready to give it to Dean but once he opened the door, the room was empty, no sign of Dean or anyone ever being in the room. The bottle dropped from his hand and covered the floor with glass.

"Oh Dean you idjit" he said in a worried tone.

°•°•°•°•°•

The now ex hunter kept on driving while enjoying baby with his favorite music blasting and the wind caressing his soft hair. After a short period of time Dean started feeling sleepy, but he kept on driving...Until suddenly someone jumped in the middle of the road without giving the winchester any chance to stop the vehicle. His naive self got out of the car and slowly approached the mystery person, she was all covered in blood and unconscious. Petrified Dean reached out for his phone to dial 911 and before he knew it the mystery woman had her arms wrapped around his head and her teeth stuck inside his neck.

°•°•°•°•

Few hours later, the poor guy aroused with his neck stained in blood and his arms tied above his head.

"well well well if it isn't the famous Dean Winchester the big bad hunter"

someone spoke up from behind the shadows.

"do you know for how long my pack and i have been trying to get both you and your brother here?" she added as she came into the light.

"I don't know who you are or what you want but i think you have the wrong person

please let me go" Dean begged.

"ooh your brother's death must-have hit you like a brick- but oh well i could never imagine one of my family members being stuck with Lucifer in a cage" she added in a mocking tone.

"i don't have a brother" the brown haired man whispered softly.

"Look i don't know what kind of trick you're playing but it ain't working and you're not leaving this place with a single drop of blood in that beautiful body of yours" she exclaimed as she traced her fingers over his neck.

"usually our victims endure a quick death but you- oh well it's not everyday I get to devour the blood of a winchester! so make yourself comfortable" the creature uttered before sucking her teeth into Dean's neck and knocking him unconscious once more.

°•°•°•°•°

"Come on boy pick up your phone" Bobby muttered anxiously as he paced around in the living room.

"oh for fuck's sake Castiel get your ass down here right now."

"what happened" the angel asked as he appeared out of thin air.

"Dean is missing" the hunter replied angrily.

"what do you mean missing?" castiel demanded with his head slightly tilted to the left.

"missing as in he left the house and fucking disappeared and hasn't been answering his phone" Bobby shouted as tears began to fill inside his tired eyes.

"you were supposed to keep an eye on him"

cas added.

"you listen to me castiel if you don't help me find Dean in the next twenty four hours i swear to god i am sticking an angel blade right into you angel heart got that????" the old man hallowed.

And so the trip of finding the last standing Winchester began.