#oww my nose

[orangebratz]

Here is Kirstee and Kaycee fighting over the Kaycee doll, trying to massage the doll's broken nose! Wanted to make a meme/edit of the Tweevils fighting over the Kaycee doll from the new Bratz Tweevils Special Edition 2-Pack! In the original video, they are fighting over a "Boobie" doll.

Here is the Amazon link for the new Tweevils 2-Pack!:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B91BQP75/ref=cm_sw_r_as_gl_api_gl_i_J147TJ2QBAQ2T9XWMEMP?linkCode=ml1&tag=069702b-20 

(Español): Kirstee y Kaycee se pelean por la muñeca Kaycee e intentan masajearle la nariz rota. Quería hacer un meme/edición de las Gemalas/Gememalas peleándose por la muñeca Kaycee del nuevo pack de 2 Bratz Tweevils Edición Especial. En el vídeo original, se pelean por una muñeca llamada "Boobie", una parodia de Barbie.   

[xomakara]

Behind Closed Doors

SUMMARY |  The quiet guy who lives next door to you hardly seems to notice you, but you can't help but notice him—he's gorgeous. You've given up all hope of striking up a conversation until he comes to your rescue one night after your ex shows up to your house, drunk and looking to take you back, whether you want him or not.

PAIRINGS |  Seonghwa x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  neighbor!Seonghwa, neighbor!Reader, smut, non-idol au, next door neighbor trope

CONTENT/WARNINGS | drunk cheating ex, profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (both receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, creampies

LENGTH |  6,053 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I love writing next door neighbor tropes just as much as I love writing college aus. I hope you all like this. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

"I told you to get out!" you yelled, throwing pillows at the sorry excuse of an ex-boyfriend you dated. You didn't miss when they hit him right in the face, and it gave you a weird satisfaction seeing him be hurt, even though it was from the small weapon.

"C'mon, babe, please. We were so good together!" He complained, attempting to get on his hands and knees and crawl over to where you stood on the opposite side of the sofa.

"Oh yeah? Does that mean that me finding out about you fucking all those random tramps was us being 'good together' too?" you scoffed at him.

"Now, babe—"

"Don't you 'babe' me, you asshole. Go find some other chick to go play house with! I never want to see you again, are we clear!?" you seethed. This had gotten annoying rather fast, and now you could barely stand looking at his face any longer.

"Baby, you know that she's nothing compared to you. You're the only one I ever want. I can't get you out of my—"

"If I was the only one that you cared about, you wouldn't have done that in the first place," you said as calmly as you could, trying not to get more upset by thinking about what he did.

“We all make mistakes sometimes!” He pleaded.

"FUCKING MY LANDLORD IN MY BEDROOM AFTER THINKING I WAS OUT OF TOWN IS A MISTAKE!?!?" you screamed, picking up another pillow from behind you and threw it with full force at him. He only missed the attack by dodging.

"Babe..." He tried crawling to you again but you just punched the sofa as hard as you could.

"I have had it! I am so fucking done! There is no chance in hell we will ever get back together and get married like you'd wanted—we're done. Are we clear on this, Park Donghyun!?" You used his full name in a way that wasn't appealing or desirable. It was in a harsh, angry voice that rang through his ears and scared him slightly. He just stayed on the ground, still crawling as slow as he could and acting as if it pained him for you to feel the way you did.

"Sweetheart, please," he croaked. "You know we belong together. I never really loved them, it was you."

You weren't sure if you two were ever good together or just good fucks to each other—either way, you weren't going back to a person like that. When he reached over the couch for you, you went to dodge out of the way and unfortunately, with your shitty luck, you tripped over the leg of the coffee table and fell, hitting your head hard against the corner as you hit the ground.

There was a lot of pain and the stench of soju filled your nose as Donghyun bent over you with lust filled eyes…and then suddenly nothing.

A few blinks later, the blurry figure above you was now much clearer, but it definitely wasn't your shitty ex-boyfriend. It was a much more beautiful sight: Seonghwa, your gorgeous neighbor who seemed to care more than he should about the stranger across the hallway, not that you were going to complain.

"Hey, hey, you should stay still," Seonghwa spoke softly.

"Oww," you groaned, taking an attempt to move to show you were feeling fine. Seonghwa gently grasped your arms and helped you into a sitting position. "Did that fucker leave?" 

"Don't worry. I made sure he wouldn't be bothering you again," Seonghwa replied, letting his eyes glide down to the purplish mark on the side of your face. It broke his heart to see that someone would ever consider treating someone else, especially a woman, this way. "Did he do that to you?"

"This?" you winced at the slight pain. "No. I was trying to get away from him and I tripped. Unfortunately, there was a table there that knocked me out, not the creep." You let out a long breath and blinked rapidly. "God, why did my life turn into a drama?"

You and Seonghwa sat there awkwardly, neither of you too sure what to do in the current situation you were both in. You were never that close, having only waved at each other a handful of times when you had happened to catch each other at the same time and your eyes met. Other than that, you hadn't gotten past acquaintances with the handsome male, though your friends seemed convinced you should start a relationship with him or at least have a nice quick fling for a week or so.

"Hey," he broke the silence that had been lasting a while. "If you want me to, I can put an ice pack on that for you. Might help to prevent the swelling, not to mention the pain."

You hadn't noticed the ache before, but now that it was mentioned, the spot throbbed almost as if in response. A look of surprise had etched onto your features as you finally answered. "That's alright," you answered a little too fast to be natural, "you don't have to do that."

Seonghwa watched you for a second before his expression melted into one of reassurance. "It's okay, I insist," his features brightened with a genuine smile. "Do you have any in your freezer?"

Before you could respond, he was walking over and grabbing them. With the ice in hand, he sat next to you. His shoulder rested gently against yours, his warmth spreading from his thin cotton shirt to you and you were tempted to sink against him and feel his muscles under his shirt. His smell was intoxicating, the light scent of his body wash still lingering from when he showered before coming to rescue you.

Seonghwa was coming home from running errands when the sound of shouting across the hall caught his attention. He knew it was no place for someone to be alone in such a situation, so he rushed over without a second thought. He didn't even question why the front door was unlocked; he assumed someone was preventing you from leaving and Seonghwa did not like that.

Bursting through the door, Seonghwa's protective instincts surged when he saw your ex looming over you. He didn't hesitate – grabbing the man, shoving him out, and slamming the door shut. Concern flooded him as he turned to you, lying on the living room floor.

Seonghwa was relieved to hear your injury was from a fall, not your ex's abuse. As he held the ice pack to your bruised cheek, his heart ached, wishing he could erase your pain. A permanent frown settled on his concerned face. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, pulling the ice back to gauge your reaction.

You nodded your thanks, then took the ice pack from him. "My head's pounding," you admitted, "but it was doing that before. The ice actually feels good..." You trailed off, glancing at Seonghwa. He was watching you with such focused attention, it made you self-conscious. "Though, yeah, it is pretty cold."

"Hm... How are things with him? Better now? Do I need to scare him off some more?" He joked, despite the tone and the expression on his face showing nothing more than that.

A dry laugh fell from your lips. "I honestly can't believe him."

"He seemed really obsessed." He nodded as he agreed.

"It's not just that," you scoffed bitterly. "He slept with other women the entire time we were dating, even after he said he loved me. He even slept with my landlady when he thought I was out of town." You shook your head, exasperated. "And here I am, unloading all this on you when we barely know each other. I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to me complain about my ex."

"Well, my schedule is empty at the moment, and I don't mind listening to you talk, either," Seonghwa shifted so that your right knee pressed against his own, his arms resting against his leg. "And about us not really knowing each other, we could get to know each other now and worry about that another day."

You thought about his offer to try and get to know each other while pressing the ice against the bruised spot once again. "So, I should be expecting you in my apartment more often now?"

A slight grin flashed over his lips, a deep chuckle shaking his body lightly. The vibration seemed to radiate into you, a sweet buzz tingling throughout your body and making it warmer than before. "Only if you need rescuing."

The corners of your lips curved into a smile as your free hand reached and ruffled Seonghwa's hair. "Careful now. What would your girlfriend say?"

He let out a laugh. "I'm single if that's what you're asking."

This gorgeous man was single? Even a guy like him was still unattached in this dating scene? As much as you were shocked, you were grateful for the information. You made sure not to let out a relieved sigh as he leaned in toward you.

Seonghwa removed the ice from your hand and held it against your face. It felt like it was much colder now that his fingers were brushing against your skin, especially since the bruise felt a bit better. Not to mention that you could see something sparkle in Seonghwa's eyes. This guy...

"Sorry for coming in unannounced earlier. I just needed to make sure that he wouldn't be able to hurt you," he said with a tinge of guilt in his voice. "You must be surprised I didn't even knock or anything."

You blinked rapidly, pulling back slightly. Then, you reached out and placed your hand over his, helping him hold the ice pack to your cheek. "You don't need to apologize," you reassured him with a warm smile. "I'm just grateful you were here. Who knows what could've happened otherwise, to me or my apartment." Your smile softened. "And don't worry about surprising me. Thank you, Seonghwa."

The shared warmth of your hands on the ice pack faded as Seonghwa withdrew his touch, leaving a lingering warmth on your skin. A flicker of disappointment quickly gave way to a flutter of excitement as his fingers gently grazed your cheek, careful of the bruise. This wasn't the casual acquaintance you'd known from brief encounters at the mailbox; a deeper connection was sparking to life.

Seonghwa kept the ice pack in place, but his focus shifted. His right hand traced your jawline, fingers hesitant yet drawn to your warmth. The intimacy of the moment was unexpected, a spark igniting where only polite exchanges had existed before. His touch lingered, a silent question hanging in the air, as if seeking permission to bridge the gap between comfort and something more.

He pulled his hand away and picked up the now melting bag, bringing it into the open-plan kitchen that connected with the living room. You followed behind him, confused as to why he had stopped the closeness the two of you were sharing before.

You stood in the doorway to the kitchen while Seonghwa refroze the ice pack. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" His dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle with interest as he studied you.

"Uh, well..."

"Or should I give you some space?" His eyebrows knit together as he fidgeted nervously, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. "I mean, I shouldn't impose, right?"

As if the fates were giving you the signal to tell Seonghwa that, yes, he was always welcome to 'impose', your stomach growled, growling loud enough that the gorgeous man couldn't have ignored it. You groaned and hung your head slightly while laughing lightly, embarrassment burning across your face and through your body.

Seonghwa let out a laugh. "Come over to my place. I'll whip something up," he said with a gentle voice. He walked out of the kitchen and past you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. You weren't entirely sure if it was done on purpose or if it was coincidental. But you let him guide you out of your apartment and across the way to his.

A few weeks later, Seonghwa had invited you over for coffee and conversation. Spending more time with the tall and gorgeous man across the hallway didn't sound bad at all. Sure, it had only been a few days since the 'incident', but you had already learned so much. For instance, Seonghwa juggled studying business with bartending gigs and helping out at a friend's car rental. It wasn't the most conventional career path, but he managed it all with surprising ease. Not to mention the fact he had the ability to stay motivated to pull it all off and somehow stay as calm and cool as he is. Then there was the way he effortlessly slipped into his charming demeanor. And how that never left whenever you were together.

Okay, you had to admit you had it pretty bad. This wasn't how you expected to be feeling, given how your relationship with your ex had ended just recently. Yet here you were, admiring this amazingly talented and attractive man sitting in front of you, wearing the most casual clothing possible. Despite looking quite sleepy and lazy with a bit of hair mussed and a very big, comfortable shirt, a small portion of skin was showing and it took all the willpower you had not to stare at him for a little longer. He was that incredible to look at. He'd even fallen asleep in his arm chair, and when you heard soft snores emitted, a light giggle had escaped your lips. Even in sleep, he still looked handsome and you could feel the growing urge to run your fingers through his silky hair and graze his face delicately.

Oh yes, you had it pretty bad... But how would he react? Maybe he would be the one running away. Or not. If he's anything like your ex, then there is a large probability he will leave like all the men you've dated had. Still...

You heaved a sigh and peeked over at Seonghwa, watching his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. You quietly cleared your throat and leaned over the table where his mug still remained, most likely cold. Placing your fingers against the handle, you began moving to grab the mug, planning on placing it in the kitchen sink. But just as you touched the glass of the mug, the sleepy man stirred awake, blinking to get ahold of reality and waking up. Seonghwa yawned widely, the sound catching in your throat. Your heart skipped a beat, a shy smile spreading across your face.

"Didn't mean to fall asleep..." His voice, rough with sleep, sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure.

"Nah, don't worry about it," a genuine smile graced your features, "I don't mind."

Your reaction seemed to comfort him as he rose from the chair and stretched before gathering his coffee mug and reaching out for yours, collecting them to take them to the kitchen and making more coffee for the two of you. You watched intently as his fingers went to his hair to mess it up a bit before coming back to the living room and sitting. He leaned back, exposing more skin at the neck of his shirt, making you realize he didn't have a shirt underneath it.

"So I've been thinking. About that creep," he paused and sipped the coffee. "I was thinking. You and I should hang out together when the creep is nearby. See if it helps to show him that you've moved on."

"Oh? And you think it would work?" You raised your brow, interested and skeptical.

"Yeah," he said it too quickly. His hand went to rub the back of his neck and his gaze stayed down, avoiding you. "He might just have gotten the hint that you don't want anything to do with him. Maybe we can help the process move along? That's if you want to."

His flustered state was adorable, a blush dusting his cheeks as he averted his gaze. You couldn't help but giggle at his bashfulness.

"Are you certain about this? It would mean spending a lot more time together," you teased, enjoying his flustered reaction. His grip tightened on the mug, and he avoided your eyes. "Unless you're only suggesting this out of concern, and you don't actually want to..." you trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

"It's not like that," his voice was a tad shaky and almost sounded panicked as his eyes locked with yours, the flush still coloring his skin. "I'm kind of interested. In you..."

His confession brought heat rushing to your face as well, and your embarrassment was written all over, judging from the amused smirk on Seonghwa's face and how you averted your eyes to focus on the floor. “I’m interested in you too…”

"Y-yeah?" he stammered, his voice catching in his throat. He looked every bit the nervous schoolboy, clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline and darting his eyes anywhere but your face. His lips parted, then closed again as he licked them nervously.

Seonghwa's flustered reaction was endearing. It was hard to believe this confident, capable man was reduced to a blushing, stammering mess in your presence. The realization that he was interested in you, of all the women in the complex who likely vied for his attention, sent a thrill through you. It was impossible not to fall for him a little harder in that moment.

With your mutual confessions hanging in the air, the atmosphere shifted. It became charged with a new intimacy, though a hint of awkwardness lingered. Seonghwa's eyes darted around the room, while your face couldn't help but break into a wide smile. This was a new beginning, a thrilling and uncertain one. As the initial tension eased, Seonghwa visibly relaxed, though he still couldn't quite meet your gaze. He fidgeted with his mug, taking a few sips, and your eyes met in a shared moment of laughter, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings now laid bare.

"Ah," he set his mug down before standing. "Do you maybe want to go out to dinner sometime? Just the two of us?" His gaze returned to you as you got up and put your mug down, keeping it by the table as he placed his in the sink to be cleaned later.

"I'd like that. Let's do it," you couldn't contain your excitement, and your hand instinctively reached out, slipping over where it rested on the sink. Your fingers intertwined with his, causing him to gasp softly. But he didn't pull away; instead, his grip tightened slightly, sending a warm jolt through you.

Seonghwa couldn't speak, his joy evident in the widening of his smile and the tightening of his hold on your hand. As if remembering his usual charm, a playful smirk tugged at his lips. He covered his mouth with his free hand, trying to contain his happiness, while his fingers intertwined with yours. "Yeah?" he managed, his voice barely a whisper.

A rush of heat burned your cheeks as you swallowed a nervous lump before answering. "Yes, I want to spend time with you."

His grip loosened, and he closed the distance between you, his warm breath washing over you. A moment of hesitation, a flicker of nervousness in the air, and then your eyes met. In an instant, you were enveloped in his embrace, his nose brushing affectionately against yours before his lips found yours. The kiss was intoxicating, a dizzying sensation heightened by the gentle pressure of his lips guiding yours.

All too soon, the feeling came to an end when he pulled back, leaving you a mess while he remained fairly composed, his smile beaming brilliantly. "Let me know when you want to go out and I'll take you anywhere. And anytime," Seonghwa cupped your flushed cheek with his palm. His touch sent electric sparks flying over every spot of your skin. "Call me, text me...come over any time."

"Okay," a smile that you didn't even feel could exist came to life as he leaned down again and kissed you, deepening this one a bit more and sending you further into an intense and head spinning trance.

He gave a bright and wide smile that shines as brightly as the sun as he took your hand in his, locking the two of your fingers together as he guided you out to the apartment hallway. He leaned against his open door frame, watching as you opened your front door. Before you could step through, you spun to face him, wanting to thank him, only to be met with him pulling you back and pecking your lips briefly.

"Hey, I'll stop by later if you want," his gorgeous dark brown eyes were sparking and begging you not to reject his offer. "I'll bring dinner. Sounds good?"

"Sure, yeah. That'll be nice," you answered, words slightly slurred since your head hadn't completely returned from being caught in the bliss of those kisses.

"Cool. I'll see you then," he placed a light kiss upon your nose before watching you return to your place.

The sound of the lock clicking shut echoed behind him as Seonghwa practically flew back into his apartment, his joyous shouts filling the living room. He was overflowing with pure elation, warmth spreading through him like wildfire. Rescuing his beautiful neighbor had been an impulsive act on a seemingly ordinary day, but who could have predicted it would lead to this?

"I can't believe how lucky I am," Seonghwa thought, already planning how to shower his new girlfriend with affection. She deserved so much more than that awful ex. The best dates, the best gifts, everything she wanted would be hers. He vowed to dedicate himself to her happiness, helping her erase every painful memory of the past.

After numerous dates filled with stolen kisses and lingering touches, you couldn't deny your growing desire for something more. The passion intensified with each shared moment, often leading to intimate cuddles on the couch or in bed, despite having dinner waiting or a movie paused in the background. Resisting the urge to take things further was a constant battle, but your patience was rewarded during a particularly heated make-out session one evening.

You were the first to move, rising off the couch to settle in his lap, arms finding their way around his neck while your hips were taken control of by Seonghwa's hands. Those skillful and very long fingers seemed to know exactly where to knead and grab as his teeth and tongue both went to work to drive you crazy. The fabric of his jeans was not comfortable at all and you tried to adjust your hips a bit to seek more comfort and maybe to send him some messages that you really enjoyed what was occurring. However, this movement seemed to rile Seonghwa up a bit.

"Can we..." you started to ask but couldn't find the rest of the words that you desperately sought out.

"We can... We can move it to the bedroom," he had already read you like an open book and his arms wrapped around you. "Or stay here if you don't mind the couch? We can go weherever you want to go."

As much as you liked the idea of staying right where you were and continuing this there and then, you weren't certain if you wanted the first time to be on the couch, even if that's where all the previous kissing had led. Shaking your head lightly, your answer was given and Seonghwa gladly lifted you and carried you with his long legs taking large and quick steps to his room, leaving kisses along the sides of your neck and behind your ear, a known sensitive spot for you.

He pressed you onto the mattress, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you cried out his name. How had this incredible man become yours? His touch was magic, igniting sparks wherever his fingers traced, leaving you weak and pliant in his arms. You threaded your fingers through his soft, thick hair, the boyish style contrasting with the raw passion in his eyes.

“You're so handsome, Seonghwa," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

"Handsome and talented? Hmm? And totally yours," his bright eyes shined with his dazzling smile and his eyebrows rose. "I'm yours, angel. All yours."

"I want you, Seonghwa..." you couldn't contain how badly you wanted him, the yearning strong as you watched him move his head to one side and his face nuzzle your neck. A light growl and he bit the spot he'd just exposed by moving out of the way before his teeth dragged his lower lip slowly back across the surface.

"You can have all of me," the smirk was obvious from the sound of his husky tone. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Do whatever you ask and I'll gladly listen."

"You should probably know... I've never been on top. Always the bottom," you admitted.

"Hmmm...so you want to ride this tonight?" He grinded his crotch over top of yours, allowing the rough friction to give you a preview, the movement so expert and sensual as his eyes shut and he threw back his head, lips parted to let out a groan. "Because I can make that happen if it'll please my angel."

You couldn't stop your fingers from raking along his bare skin beneath his shirt, digging slightly as your back arched for more contact. "Yes. I want that. Will you give it to me?"

"Hell yes," his husky growl had you burning for him with anticipation and the excitement made your hands shake as your shirt was removed. In seconds, the rest of your clothing had been peeled from your form and Seonghwa stood by the bed to toss off everything.

There wasn't time to admire the masterpiece that he had under his pants because those hands returned, sliding along your curves and hips before flipping you up to straddle over him. Once settled and comfortable, your eyes fixated on how aroused he was before you as your core was positioned directly over the bulge pressing firmly against your heat. Your hands supported you in his lap with the flat of your palms pressed against the soft sheet, just below his firm, perky chest. With each slight wiggle of your hips, an enticing moan erupted and his head pushed back while his length grinded against your sex, creating a lovely mix of heat and wetness that coated over his growing arousal. The slick and wet noises each time you rolled or swiveled your hips sent your head spinning and you wanted nothing more than to continue that until you would eventually need a taste of that pulsing, red, swollen tip.

"Hwa? Can I suck you for a bit?" you whispered as your lips spread out across his upper chest.

A light hum that was filled with pure desire came as a response from him before a broken 'fuck' slipped free as the first touch of your tongue and lips worked across his defined collarbone and your fingers began working his growing length. Each pump made your core swell and dampen more, and the anticipation and arousal nearly blinded you, so badly were you just yearning to be filled and used.

When he seemed to be unable to handle it any longer, Seonghwa flipped you back around so your rear faced him and you had your mouth leveled with the object that would very soon satisfy that part of your aching sex. "Why don't I eat you out while you suck me? Sounds fair to you, babe?"

You could only hum against the smooth skin of his arousal and closed your eyes when you felt his palms roaming across the curvatures of your rear before spreading the plump cheeks. He didn't waste any more time before diving right in with a long, deep lick to your soaking pussy. Each swirl and circle had you wanting to moan and push your hips back for more while at the same time, trying to take him deep, gagging slightly until you began to find the right balance and breathing technique. Seonghwa was a lot bigger than your last boyfriend, but luckily for you, there was enough practice and pleasure before, thanks to your skills, to prepare for him.

"Fuck Hwa, right there...ohh!" your cries got a little louder and your body felt more restless when he began nibbling and licking over your clit.

"Come on, angel. Don't stop sucking me," he purred against your heat and the vibrations drove you higher and more insane.

As soon as he returned and increased his attention on you, you returned yours to his deliciously thick and hard length. You would make sure to give it the utmost care and attention, no matter how good it felt to have those masterful lips and tongue working you in the most sensitive spots. You pulled out all the tricks and techniques you knew, bobbing your head at just the right moment and at the perfect angle that you could take him in more and at the right moment would stroke his base. Meanwhile your other hand carefully rolled his sack and when you weren't completely focused, would pull up lightly from its place. Each moan he let out into your dripping cunt had your legs quivering and you weren't sure how much longer you could take before coming undone.

Your head was beginning to cloud more and more with desire and lust while the hot and slick sounds and your panting grew louder the longer the oral stimulation went on for. It took your whole power and energy to remember that you had your hands working while you felt like a puddle, near your limits of coming undone as his tongue swiped against the most sensitive nerves. It became increasingly difficult to focus and concentrate on keeping your throat and gag reflexes under control with each bob. You definitely weren't going to be able to handle this for much longer if things kept going at that pace.

"Hwa, I can't...ahhhhh," your screams echoed as his talented tongue and the slight prodding of a long, slender finger at your entrance had you finishing in no time.

"Me too, angel," his breathy moans were encouraging as were the heavy panting from his mouth while he pushed his hips back and forth, gliding easily within your mouth with the help of your hand. "Oh, fuck... Fuck! Here it comes, babe..." Seonghwa grunted as he shoved his cock back further into your warm, wet, and waiting mouth and you swallowed and held him in there, eyes watering and stinging slightly.

Once he eased up and the load that had shot directly down your throat was swallowed, you turned around and crawled up his body, your lips latching onto his neck.

"I'm not quite done with you yet, Hwa," your hand gripped his throbbing member once more, rubbing teasing circles along the sensitive flesh and feeling it twitch within your fingers. Your thumb smeared the moisture from the head across the entire, swollen shaft, making the pumping slick and quick. "Need you in me...right fucking now..."

"Take it as much as you need, angel," the raspy voice growled back as he used your soaked entrance to slick and prep his length.

In the matter of a single second, his full length slid straight into you and you let out a drawn out moan. With the size of your new lover, he hit spots that no one had ever even come close to touching. He was that thick and long, hitting places you'd never imagined having touched. He must have been blessed by the gods and you were incredibly lucky.

"If I'm hurting you—" Seonghwa began to ask, concern etched on his face.

"No! Hwa, you're fine... Better than fine," a breathy, eager, and almost desperate whimper met his ear as you grinded your hips on his length, begging for movement and pleasure from him. "Fuck, you fill me up so well. It feels so amazing," you added.

His hips rolled and with each stroke, each thrust was controlled and steady as he made certain to hit your deepest spots, rocking his pelvis at the perfect angle so he could continuously graze along that spot deep inside, coaxing it to explode and send you over. "So tight and wet...perfect...fuck, this pussy is gorgeous and sweet. And only mine. Right, angel? My girl's perfect tight little pussy is all mine?" Seonghwa asked and smirked after hearing your sweet sounds.

All you could do was nod, clutching him and running your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to hold off your second climax as long as you possibly could, even though the way his cock kept sliding, prodding and working along that one sweet spot would become your undoing. That, and his filthy words. Those filthy words mixed with the beautiful grunts and moans from him were so sexy. He was already wrecking you so much.

"All yours, baby," you said softly. "Only yours."

"So perfect, my angel. Come on, my sweet angel," his husky voice murmured and encouraged you to keep going and let the feelings come to their highest peak.

"H-harder. Fuck me harder, Hwa." The sensations within you built, the pressure and knot deep within ready to burst. Just a little more. Only a little more and you could finish and feel free of the bliss and pleasure that your boyfriend was so skillfully bringing forth.

"Prettiest, most angelic voice...just listen to the little moans you're making... Fuck!" Seonghwa pounded and pounded deeper and deeper into you until you were a babbling mess. He fucked the words completely out of you, replacing them instead with sweet moans and screams of his name. That angelic sound of you reaching your climax did not go unnoticed as it bounced along his bedroom walls and your tight walls squeezed him.

It was all too much. After giving you such a glorious release that had you seeing stars, Seonghwa reached his high, moans mixing together as the two of you panted and clutched each other with strong arms. The two of you basked in the high the two of you had just taken part of and came down from slowly, hearts beating at erratic rhythms while your breath returned.

"Wow..." Seonghwa spoke softly. "You're amazing, angel."

"That was...that was great," you still hadn't fully recuperated from the waves and the intensity of the mind blowing experience with him. "But Hwa...baby?" you questioned.

"Hm?" Seonghwa questioned, his voice raspy with contentment.

"We definitely need showers," you giggled.

"Hm... But I can't walk yet, my legs are numb," Seonghwa stated as he gently patted your rear.

You giggled and smirked, "Get stronger ones, mister," before settling down on his chest.

"My legs can barely move! A shower sounds awesome, but I'm so comfy and tired right now," he made a fake, overly loud snoring sound.

You poked the tip of his nose. "How about I draw a bath for us then?"

"Perfect. Or we could skip the bath all together and just do some more...adventures...in bed," he had a smile full of mischief and the wink had you giggling and shaking your head, a blush finding its way into your cheeks once more.

"You and your dirty mind..." you went to get up and start the water, only to have him grab your wrist and sit up slightly, the sweat dripping down and his cheeks rosy pink.

"Angel, one more? Then we can be good and clean," his pleas were soft and inviting, and very convincing when coupled with the sweet smile and twinkling eyes.

"How about sex in the bathtub instead? As a compromise and to satisfy your neediness," you said and put a finger to your lips.

Seonghwa chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain. That's a deal."

[winterarmyy]

Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

[mapis-putellas]

𝐵𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑠

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader

Words: 1299

Warnings: None!

Summary: A typical morning in the Putellas household.

Notes: I’m so sorry for the long wait

"Good morning." You murmur as you slip behind Alexia and secure your arms around her waist, craning your head forward to press a kiss to her cheek. It was early, the sun just beginning to rise against the already blue sky, but Alexia seems to have been up for hours. She was clad in nothing but a black sports bra and a pair of red gym shorts, her blonde hair tied back into its usual ponytail with the fly aways secured by a headband.

The skin of her stomach was slightly clammy, and that along with the slight aroma of sweat lingering on her suggests she had just got done working out. You wrinkle your nose as you rest your chin against her shoulder, giving her a playful poke. "You stink." You add as an afterthought, grinning at the scoff that fills your ears.

“Good morning to out too, amor.” The sarcasm was evident as she pats your hands still pressed against her stomach.

“Hey!” You say defensively. “I said good morning first!”

“Before telling me I stink?” She glances back at you, a singular eyebrow raised.

You shrug. “Well, you do, so…”

Alexia turns her head to look back at you, a look of playful resignation on her face. "And yet you’re still hugging me." She retorts.

"The things I do for love," You joke wistfully before suddenly yelping at the not so gentle swat that meets your backside. "Hey, oww!" You whine, reaching back to rub at the smarting skin as you pull away from her. "Did you just swat me with the goddamn spatula?!"

Alexia's face holds no remorse as she turns to face you with a spatula in her hand, a single eyebrow raised. "Yep. And I will do it again if you do not behave, amor" She warns, and you mock salute her as you stomp away to the refrigerator with the intention of making your own breakfast. You all but yank open the door and grab the first thing you see -which just so happened to be a punnet of grapes- before slamming the door shut and tossing your chosen breakfast onto the counter. You hop up next to them, ignoring your still throbbing butt cheek as you begin kicking your legs.

Alexia glares at you as she turns off the stove, and you pointedly glare back as you pop a singular grape into your mouth and chew all without breaking eye contact.

Surprisingly, Alexia was the first to look away, letting out a deep sigh as she begins to dish out two portions of the scrambled eggs she'd made. "Eres un dolor en mi trasero." She grumbles beneath her breath as she heads to the sink to put the frying pan to soak, and your eyes narrow as you toss another grape into your mouth. You have no idea what she'd just said -curse your inability to learn a new language despite the many months of tutoring you'd had- but you were pretty sure it had been insulting.

Spotting the now discarded spatula Alexia had left by the stove, you reach for it and place it out of sight behind you just in time for the blonde to finish with whatever she was doing. She turns to face you, and you smile innocently as you continue kicking your legs like were the epitome of innocence. Alexia's own eyes narrow, glancing between you and her breakfast, and you roll your eyes again as you swallow.

"I didn't do anything to your breakfast, ale, relax."

Assured by the honesty in your voice, Alexia reaches for her eggs. She bends over, resting her elbows on the counter next to your body before beginning to eat.

"I think my butts going to bruise." You say, effectively breaking the silence.

Alexia glances your way and rolls her eyes as she swallows. "I didn't swat you that hard, amor." She murmurs, and you scoff again as you shift s little to face her. You both knew she'd never seriously hurt you, and even if she just so happened to do so on accident, she’d apologise profusely before promising she’d do anything in her power to make it up to you. This, however, was not one of those times. This was simply a case of who could annoy the other more.

"And how do you know?" You retort. "Are you me? Can you feel my pain?" You hold a hand to your chest, your other hand already behind you tightly gripping the handle of the spatula. You could feel the satisfaction racing through your body already. Oooh, revenge was going to be sweet.

Alexia chuckles in amusement at your dramatic response as she pats your thigh in hopes it would momentarily appease you. You simply blink at her audacity.

"I will kiss it better, amor." She promises somewhat seriously as she scoops up a forkful of eggs, and you smile slightly a you tighten your grip around the spatula.

"Aww, thanks. I'll kiss yours better too."

Alexia looks up at you with a frown of confusion. "But I don't-"

You cut her off by reaching forward and swatting her on the ass just a little harder than she'd done to you. She drops her fork in surprise as an unmistakable yelp escapes her lips, her hand instinctively reaching back to sooth the obvious sting, and you cackle loudly as you hop off of the counter with the intention of finding somewhere to hide before she could retaliate. You feel her fingers just skim the material of your shirt as she tries yet fails to grab you before you could leave the room. 

"Amor! Come back here, right now!" You hear her yell.

"No!" You scramble up the stairs, the sound of her footsteps pounding after you. Your hand was just inches away from the bathroom door handle before her arms grab your waist and yank your body back into her own. "Alexia! Let me go! This is not fair!" You laugh as she hauls you up into her arms and carries you through to your bedroom like you were no more than a rag doll.

"How is it not fair?" She tosses you onto the bed and climbs on top of you before you could even think about making your escape. Your chest heaves as she leans over you, her large hands pinning your wrists to the bed.

"You hit me first! I was just getting my well deserved revenge!" You yell, squirming futility beneath her.

Alexia stares down at you in amusement. "Revenge?"

"Yes!" You cry indignantly. "I have a spatula shaped bruise on my ass cheek because of you! It was only fair you get one because of me!"

"You are going to have a lot more than a spatula shape bruise when I am finished with you." Her eyes had a teasing glint to them, and you knew her next move could go one of two ways. One, she could mark you. Or more specifically, your neck and as a result you'd be forced to listen to the relentless teasing from your teammates until it fades. That was typically her chosen punishment for you when you ‘acted up’ despite your many protests. Or there was option number two . She could-

Hands attack your sides before without any warning, and the shriek the escapes your lips was immediate as you scramble to knock her hands away to no avail.

You guess revenge was a dish best served cold after all.

**

Tags:

@goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @marysfics @liloandstitchstan @xxnaiaxx @helen-with-an-a @ceesimz

[botched1up1brain]

Short story i made inspired by @meo-eiru 's yandere one eyed monster oc Theo

This is how my oc Zia meets Theo.

.

.

*click*

"My name is Zia Atreya, paranormal investigator. The date and time is September 18 20XX, 2203 hours. I'm on the trail of the creature who's been following me for the past few months, possibly longer. The last time I got a glimpse of the creature it seemed to be 5'8, was wearing a large raincoat, and had one. huge. glowing eye. I have salt, silver, a cross, and a knife, cause who knows what will hurt this thing if I must defend myself. I will be back when I have an update"

*click*

*click*

*sigh*

"My name is Zia, paranormal investigator. The date is September 19 20XX, about 0010 hours.. I've lost the trail, im tired, and I forgot water. I think I need to abandon this mission and resume when I'm *yawn* more awake-"

*leaves rustles amd footsteps*

"..that wasn't me.."

*silence*

*loud running steps, leaves crunching*

"..Oh my god, its right there!"

*more running steps, gasping breathes*

"I saw it's eye! Oh my god I found it! Oh shit- Oof!"

*thump on the ground*

"Fuck! Oww.."

*silence*

"um.. I.. I've lost the creature again.. and my foots- uh! stuck in this tree root.."

*sounds of this girlboss trying to get her foot unstuck from the tree root and failing*

"..Aw man.. okay uh hopefully I'll get unstuck and be back with an update.."

*thud*

".. of course, you dropped the recorder, stupid.. ugh.."

*footsteps getting closer*

"Oh shit.. its coming.."

*girlboss panicking noises*

*closer footsteps*

"Uhm.. can I help..?"

*silence*

*click*

.

I was handed the recorder by a pale hand belonging to the figure. It was like time froze.

I stared at the figure, his face becoming clearer by the second. His eye really did glow in the darkness. His pretty golden iris was surrounded by long lashes and had a round wide nose sitting below, light freckles sprinkled on it.

I recognized that nose. It's usually peeking below a face covered with reddish brown hair, the same hair that frame the unique face of this creature.

I was so lost in his face that I barely noticed he grabbed my foot to pull it out of the thick coiled tree roots. I slowly found my footing despite my right foot aching in pain.

He seemed frozen too, but his face was in a more panicked state. My flashlight bathed us both in a yellow light for a moment, before the boy turned around and ran away.

I didn't chase him this time.

.

*click*

"Um, this is Zia Atreya, paranormal investigator. The date is September 19 20XX, it's 7am. So I did.. technically, succeed in my mission, and I now know who was following me. It's the quiet loner that sits behind me who covers his face, uh Theodore, i think it was? I'm going to hopefully confront him at school today. My foot still aches, but it's not that bad. And my parents didn't hear me sneak back in the house, so yay me. Okay, uh, be back with my update, bye."

*click*

[atrirose]

TAKE 9 : STRAWBERRY FLAVOR ! psh

はい bf!sunghoon x f!r . . . 🎀 warning. none ! + FLUFF ★ seiu msg: after so long i feel great mwah lovies

“is there something on my face?” sunghoon has been staring at you for a while now and even though the silence was comforting because you know he loves to just sit next to you and enjoy a moment of peace, nothing said but so much conveyed.

“no” he said as he continued to watch you apply mascara, his hands tracing your forearm, stroking it as he moved closer to your face “are you trying get me killed darling” you said popping the mascara wand back in the tube as you faced him, booping his nose “and why do you think that” he tilted his head “what can i think of it when your handsome face is so close to mine, i’m afraid my heart might bust out” he looked at you, eyes admiring your face as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“how did i get so lucky” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed your cheeks, his breathy kisses trailing down your neck, you gulped at this “are you nervous my love” he said smiling in a teasing way, he knows too much and he uses that to his advantage everytime. he cups your face “you are going to hate me for this”

“what do you mean? why would-” before you could finish your question his lips were on yours, it took you too long to nail the lip combo you got on but at that point it didn’t matter, maybe you can get mad later. his lips were soft as he giggled against your lips “sorry i needed this, i wanted to make sure you aren’t a dream” you pinched his ear “oww what’s that for yn”

“because i know that excuse, you give it everytime when you need a kiss” you pout as you see your lip gloss smeared on his lips “it’s not an excuse you truly are.. like i have no idea how did i get so lucky” he said as he licked the gloss of his lips “it’s strawberry” he giggled “your pretty face will not get you excused for running my lip combo that i worked so hard on” you were supposed to go on a date and reapplying the products and nailing will take you too much time. “how about we not go” he suggested cupping your cheeks again.

“hmph wait give me a sec-” he pressed his lips against yours, pecking you multiple times “we can watch the movie on tv, let’s spend the day together” he held your hands, his forehead pressed against yours, hoping you agree to hours long cuddle session with him.

“did i tell you about where i want our wedding reception to be?”

[r3starttt]

STREAMER! GF! ELLIE

M.list

Streamer gf! Ellie whose wall is almost filled with guitars even though she only plays with one specific and does it just for you.

“Y’all wanna see the guitars? I only use that one actually” she moved her chair to show it properly, pointing her index finger at one that was lying on the floor

“Want me to play? I haven’t done it in a while”

Streamer gf! Ellie who remembered everyone that she had a girlfriend once she went super viral (and got made fun of bcs there was no way she could even approach to any girl without getting nervous and it seemed)

Streamer gf! Ellie who made you appear on stream with her after that just to prove you were in fact real and dating her.

“For today’s stream I’m gonna show y’all my wife, be nice, but not too much” she grabbed you by the wrist, bringing you closer to the camera and only showing you from your nose down.

“I told y’all to not be so nice, why’re you even calling her mommy? What’s wrong with you people”

Streamer gf! Ellie who got insisted on doing more streams with you so she started to play with you on stream (ofcs your favorite games most times) and bringing you with her anytime she played any horror game.

Streamer gf! Ellie who started to play Minecraft with you once a week on stream (having more views those days too) because people loved the dynamic you two had for that one game specifically.

Streamer gf! Ellie who ended up showing your face by accident while trying to adjust the camera and panicked once her chat told her because she thought you’ll get mad or something

“What do you mean? No I did not-“ she started to open like ten different tabs on her computers, checking something desperately and trying to push you so you wouldn’t see the screens “what? What happened?” you asked, confused.

Ellie was panicking but the chat didn’t seem to take it so seriously so you laughed at her too, still fully confused and trying to understand whatever the screens showed. That until you saw you face on a clip “Did you just show my face?”

Her eyes shifted to you, not saying a word “El, did you? Really?” once she heard you laughing it was like the sudden tension on her body disappeared almost immediately, letting out a small laugh as well “Well everyone, meet the wifey” your hand slapped her arm, not to hard but with how dramatic she is; she pulled away from you ‘oww’

Streamer gf! Ellie who tried to make a vlog and failed because she doesn’t know how to hold the camera properly (you ended recording everything for her)

Streamer gf! Ellie who social media is full of shit posting, kitties and you (likes every edit her fans make about you)

Streamer gf! Ellie who once did a bet with you during stream and ended up getting long nails because she lost almost immediately

Streamer gf! Ellie who wears lots of “I love my girlfriend” shirts on stream

Streamer gf! Ellie who spoils you a lot and likes having small dates with you, like building legos together, doing movie marathons or going shopping. Just anything where she can spend her money on you and have a nice time together.

“Babe, wake up” you were covered in blankets, hugging a pillow and trying to cover yourself from the warm but very bright rays of sun that entered trough the open spaces in between the contains. Groaning the moment Ellie started to pat your back because that meant she was either hungry or bored and needed you up too.

“El, let me sleep… cuddle with me, Mhm?” the way she chuckled made you turn around, trying your best to open your eyes properly “I have a surprise for you” her sleepy voice elicited a smile on you “yeah?”

She got under the blankets, crawling to you until she was practically on top of you “yeah, and I don’t wanna be late” her lips pressed on your forehead, hands on your face making small circles around your cheeks with her thumbs

Streamer gf! Ellie who insists on you making your own YouTube channel or something like that because people love you a lot and you would be a very talented influencer

Streamer gf! Ellie who got excited when you first opened an account somewhere to interact more with the fans and did lots of spam about it

Streamer gf! Ellie who begged you to get a cat. She wanted the orange + black combo originally but ended up getting a gray kitty she found on the street (and it’s obsessed with it, it’s her baby) She named it either a stupid name or something game related

Streamer gf! Ellie who apologizes a lot for having to go on stream during the weekends or when you’re free and feels bad for not being able to spend more time with you

Streamer gf! Ellie who always goes to cuddle with you and the cat after every stream and asks you to tell her everything about your day

[biteofcherry]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Steve + “Are you trying to hide from me?”

Thank you for sending the Hoe Fairy my way, through all the trials and dangers of time zones 😆💖

Grateful for it, I wrote something slightly longer than a drabble? Oops.

I'm creating a new dark-ish universe here, so brace yourselves.

New World Order

soft dark!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: After the snap and the breaking of the Avengers the world has turned into a darker place than it already was. Being under Steve Rogers protection should be your beacon of light, right? So why does it sometimes feel as if you're caught in a sticky web?

warnings: semi dystopian universe; soft dark Steve Rogers; manipulation; sprinkle of gaslighting; economical/situational power imbalance; dub-con; smidge of breeding kink; sex (p in v);

word count: 3k

Main Masterlist

A small creak startled you. Your body tensed and jerked, the jars in your arms almost falling to the floor. You held your breath, tightening your hold on the precious cargo.

The sound came from the other room, the one anyone from the compound could’ve walked into, so it shouldn’t scare you. Not when you made sure to cover any tracks leading to this special, secret unit, which you’ve discovered a few days ago. 

Slowly, careful not to make any sound that might alert whoever was roaming out there, you put the jars down on the shelf. One by one. Gently. You kept your breath shallow as you did, keeping your movements to the minimal. Then you stayed still, counting down seconds in your head and listening for any sounds from outside. 

As one minute passed into another, then another, until it was seven minutes, then eight, you began to relax slightly. 

No further sounds, steps, nor voices came. You assumed they were gone, whoever it’s been. 

With a little huff of breath, you turned around. The nose of your boot bumped into the box of supplies you sneaked inside. It made little to no noise, but it was enough for the domino to fall down completely.

Something clanked on the other side of the wall. Then the hidden passage in the wall opened. 

Bright daylight filtered through and the broad, dark silhouette filled nearly the entirety of the doorway. 

You lifted your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden burst of light, letting out a small squeak as you curled inwardly. It took you a mere second to recognize who caught you and while your heart eased at the realisation, there was still a part of you that feared the outcome.

“I was wondering what kind of mouse has been hiding in the walls,” came his soft, deep voice. “Turns out it’s my own little scrapper.” 

Captain Rogers walked in. Despite wearing heavy boots he still managed to move quietly. 

The wall closed automatically after him, leaving the two of you in a small room with light fixtures casting pleasant, but artificial glow from the ceiling. 

“Are you trying to hide from me?” His lips curled in a lopsided smile, but the way he slightly tilted his head made you aware that he wouldn’t like it, if you said yes. 

“Of course not,” you let out a nervous laugh, gripping the edge of the counter behind you. 

“Not from you, Steve.” Nervousness still buzzed inside you, spiking as he neared closer and closer. 

Steve Rogers, Captain America, could be a scary motherfucker, if he wanted to. Usually, however, it was reserved for anyone trying to harm people he protected. Or if his subordinates broke his rules in any way. 

He may not be the golden boy you remembered from the very few, rare press conferences and pap photos from a decade before. Too much has happened, since he was the poster of glorified values the government tried to sell. 

First, they stripped him of the crystal areola they put themselves on him. Named him a fugitive and a traitor, for wanting to protect his best friend and fight for justice. 

His other colleagues have turned away from him, leading to breaking of the Avengers formation, which was supposed to protect the people.

Then, when the ultimate threat appeared, the remaining politicians blamed Steve and the other heroes for being unable to defeat Thanos. Tony Stark never returned. So many others have dispersed into dust. For a few years - as the world around you spiralled into dystopian nightmare - phantom governments have been using Captain America and other Avengers as the arguments for why so many things were failing.

Living became hard. Well, even harder than it used to be. People turned jaded and distrustful, so very few still tried to show each other support. Unable to count on governmental help, people have started forming their own little groups. Little communities that took care of each other, but were very wary of anyone else. 

You met Steve when you shyly walked into one of the support groups he was leading. You’ve seen posters inviting people to the meetings, but for quite a long time you stayed away from them, because Captain America or not, these groups always meant selling your soul in some way. 

Steve lured you in with his patience and soft voice, but was firm in pointing out that if you’d like to take some of the provisions back home, or needed aid, you had to do some labour in return. 

You weren’t opposed to that, but you were wary. Still, you agreed. 

Each task seemed more and more important, or that’s what you told yourself, because with each you’ve somehow gotten to work closer and closer to the Captain himself. 

You worked dutifully, which was something Steve didn’t omit to praise you for on a few occasions. Which perhaps was the reason why he assigned you to a team that so often worked closely with him. 

As much as it filled your chest with warmth, your gut tightened each time he got a little closer.

And he always got closer. 

You always sensed his gaze on you. Felt your heart jumping whenever he grazed his fingers along your arm, in a seemingly innocent, sweet gesture. But there was something about his attention, about Steve himself, that made you feel uneasy.

He was charismatic, but also less lenient. 

Caring, but didn’t give second chances. 

Patient, but often merciless in his decisions. 

He was still Captain America, but bitter and darker. Worn-out and dirty, like his suit, with the trace of a star that used to shine hope to those who saw it. Now that faith trailed with darkness. 

When Steve approached you one evening, as your team was scavenging the territory the Captain and his Avengers have liberated from under the influence of bloodthirsty gangs, you felt that quickened pulse and whispers of self-preservation instinct telling you to be wary.

He said that he noticed you watching him. Which rendered you speechless for a moment. If anything, you always caught him looking your way. 

Did he really think you were the one checking him out? Was it why your gazes met every time?

You stuttered with your response, not quite knowing how to explain yourself. Steve offered you that disarming, comforting smile. He touched your hand. Slipped his fingers between yours, ever so slowly rubbing the pad of his index finger between two of yours. 

Such a small, meaningless gesture, but something about it had your cunt clenching in response, as if he was insinuating he wanted to rub you somewhere else. 

Before you managed to explain the situation, Steve turned the tables on you once again. He leaned in and confessed that he missed intimate touch, as well. That it was understandable and he felt honoured you would give him your attention.

Then he simply walked away, joining Natasha to make further decisions regarding the operation; leaving you dizzy with confusion and conflicting emotions. 

Was he right? Were you subconsciously seeking out his attention? Was your sense of unease in his proximity provoked by your attraction to him?

Because Steve Rogers was a very handsome man. From the soft strands of hair he had grown a little longer, to the way his broad chest tapered into narrow hips and possibly the sexiest ass you’ve ever seen. 

From that moment, the Captain often approached you, smiled at you, and touched you however briefly. The pounding of your heart increased each time, your thoughts still clouded. 

When he caressed your cheek one time, while having just returned all dirtied and splattered with blood from a mission abroad, your breath stuttered. He asked you to help him out with patching some bruises and you didn’t find the strength in you to deny a request from a wounded man. Captain America at that. 

He took you to his quarters. At Steve’s command, the AI closed the door after you. Your fingers trembled as Steve guided you how to unzip and take off his suit (since his shoulder throbbed so hard, he seemingly couldn’t do it himself). 

Steve’s fair skin was indeed marred with bruises and a few cuts, which you cleaned and patched. In response to your breathless “I better leave” after you were done, Steve slid his big hands onto your hips and softly asked you to stay. 

Perhaps it’s been too long since you kissed anyone. Or maybe his grip on you tightened enough for the fear of repercussions freezing you in place. 

With a tiny whimper, you gave in to his demanding lips and wandering hands. Despite your brain screaming at you to run away, your heart rate accelerated with pleasure, quickly drowning out the fear.

Steve had you sinking down on his thick cock right there, while he still sat in the chair and his suit was barely pushed past his hips. He groaned praises at how good you felt; how hot it was to feel your tight cunt stretching around him; how sexy you sounded struggling to take it all.

Even with some of your brain cells fighting against it, your whole body surrendered to Steve and the pleasure he drew out of you over and over again. 

Maybe he was right all along and you were starved for intimate contact. 

Maybe you were choosing to let him take you, so he wouldn’t hurt you or your family in any way. 

Later, as you laid in Steve’s arms, you debated with yourself how good it felt to be held and protected, and that maybe it was worth following Steve’s subtle commands. 

He took you again in the morning. On your side, sliding into your sore pusy from behind. When you hissed that it hurt, Steve slowed down, but didn’t stop. He distracted you by arousing other parts of your body - rolling and pinching your nipples, sliding his fingers between your lips and fucking your moth with them, using his wet digits to rub your clit. 

Both of you returned to your duties afterwards, but in the evening Steve simply wrapped an arm around you and greeted you with a kiss on your temple. Then guided you back to his quarters.

He talked to you about everything, asked about your past, as well simply about your day. 

But not once did he ask, if you wanted to have sex with him. 

As the days passed, the less brave and determined you were to reject him. Especially not after Steve started coming over to your quarters, to meet your parents and play this whole thing, as if you really were a couple.

So if he was this sweet and supportive, why did you still fear displeasing him in any way? 

“I mean I’m not hiding at all.” Your speech quickened slightly, as you explained your actions. “I may have hoped no one would find this spot that quickly. I would tell you about it, I was going to. But first I needed to, um, I wanted to-”

“Easy, honey.” Steve cupped your cheek.

He ran his thumb along your lip, cooing at you softly. 

He didn’t look angry, nor suspicious. Which lessened your worries. 

“So you found one of Tony’s panic rooms.” Steve took a quick look around. “Not many people know about their existence. Not many can find them.”

“It was actually an accident,” you laughed at that, remembering how you stumbled when changing light bulbs in a weird fixture in the main lounge room and instead of breaking the mirror on the wall the pressure of your fall activated sensor in the wall, opening the passage to this room. 

You told Steve the story, watching mirth form crinkles around his eyes. He kissed your forehead softly, before pulling away. Not enough to leave much space between your bodies. 

“And why are you storing provisions here?” He glanced at the jars and cans you stacked on the few shelves. 

“Just in case. We have a storage and everything is rationed generously, but-” your gaze dropped as you mumbled- “somemayhavebeenstolen.”

“What was that?” Steve’s tone chilled and you felt the hair on your nape standing to attention. 

With two fingers, he tilted your chin up. Blue eyes bore into yours, a Captain’s command in them snapped you into obedience without an order falling from his lips. 

“I think I’ve noticed someone sneaking out some portions. Often.” You admitted. “I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t suffer much loss, in case that person continued to steal.”

“Why haven’t you reported it?” Steve frowned, his hold on your chin turning into an unpleasant pinch. 

“Because the person I should report to first, is the one who takes it.” You also tried to convince yourself that maybe Walker simply was giving it away to someone in need. 

“You could’ve told me.” Steve pointed out, his frown deepening in displeasure. 

“But you always talk about the importance of chain of command,” you blurted out.

Which actually surprised Steve. His eyebrows arched up and then his disapproval was shifting into amused satisfaction once again.

“You’re so dutiful, honey.” Steve’s grin made you gulp nervously. 

His gaze slowly trailed down. When it returned to your face there was a possessive glint in the blue irises. A hot jolt stroke down your spine, pooling in your lower belly with heat in preparation for what was to come.

Because even if your lips wanted to part on a pitiful No, you knew Steve would take anyway. And he’d make sure your body was on board with his desires. 

“Why don’t you continue your impeccable service for your Captain, huh?” Steve dragged the zipper of your jacket down. 

It was butter soft brown leather; once belonging to Steve, but since it was too big on you, he graciously encouraged you to cut and sew it, so it fit you better. 

Steve parted the sides of the jacket, exposing your chest. One move was enough to yank down the stretchy top you had underneath. Your breasts spilled out and you clenched your fingers on the edge of the counter, forcing yourself not to cover yourself, even though you felt shy. 

Steve cupped your breasts with his hands; squeezed them and kneaded gently. The coarse fabric of his fingerless gloves provided additional sensation. He rolled one nipple under his thumb; pinched the other. His mouth swallowed each little moan of yours. 

He drew out a whine out of you as he tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, at the same time unzipping your jeans. Steve knelt down to take off one of your shoes and pull your leg free from the pant leg. Enough to have you spread for him as wide as he wanted. 

“Umm-” you swallowed hard as Steve stretched to his full height. 

He was so much bigger than you. So much stronger. Sometimes, when he had you in his arms, it truly made you feel safe. Other times it scared you; made you quickly comply. 

Steve picked you up so easily, sitting you on the narrow counter and standing between your legs. 

“I don’t have any more pills,” you revealed. “Contraceptives, I mean. Bruce said it will take a few weeks for the production to be finished, after that one ingredient turned out to be spoiled.”

Steve met your eyes. He listened to what you were saying, nodding his head intently as you spoke, but still unzipped his suit and freed his cock. 

You couldn’t help it, your gaze flicked down. Seeing it almost daily didn’t diminish the awe of the cock a primal part of your brain declared perfect. Your pussy clenched, growing wetter in preparation for what was inevitable. 

Steve’s hand closed around his girth and he gave a few pumps before guiding the angry-red tip into your hole. 

He slid inside with a groan. Your own choked cry responding. 

When he met slight resistance due to your position, Steve hooked his arms beneath your knees and pulled your legs upwards. Your ass tilted and your upper body angled backwards. It allowed him to sink fully in, until you felt that unpleasant pressure against your cervix and his balls met your buttocks. 

Then, as he bottomed out in your unprotected pussy, Steve regarded your words.

“Slight inconvenience. But we’re skilled in adjusting to new situations and challenges.” He rested his forehead against yours; his voice growing more raspy and breathless. “If fate wants us to have a child, then we will rise to that blessing as well.” 

He rocked his hips into you, his pelvis grazing your clit. You squeaked, bracing your hands on Steve’s shoulders. 

“Fuck, honey.” Steve withdrew a few inches then slowly thrust back in. “Your sweet cunt is so tight and wet for me.” 

It was tight, because he hadn’t prepared you thoroughly - sometimes it was a blessing, because there were other times when Steve was so focused on making you soaked that he turned you into an overstimulated mess. 

Also because his dick was so fucking thick. 

“My perfect pussy. Isn’t it?” Each stroke was a purposeful, unrushed torment, so that you felt those inches penetrating you. Owning you. 

“Y-yes, Steve. It’s yours,” you mewled when he poked your cervix again. 

“It was made to be filled, honey.” Steve’s pace started increasing. “Its purpose is to take my cock and milk every last drop of my cum, until your womb swells with it.”

There were protesting voices in your head, demanding that you shake your head no and that you tell him you didn’t want to get pregnant. But they never made it past the barrier of voices supplying that you always dreamed of having a family and that Steve would take good care of you. 

Even if the objections somehow made it onto your tongue, the moans and cries Steve was eliciting with each thrust and filthy word deformed them into agreement. 

“That’s it, honey. Taking your Captain so well. Going to take all my cum and thank me for it.”

[cheesit-notes]

Abuse of Power

in which Captain Price goes on a fucking power trip over his new recruit, you ♡

tags: MDNI!, power abuse, bdsm, bondage sorta, gags, whips, spanking?, reader giving blowjob as punishment, cum on face, basically Price being a big bully because he has the power to do so

a/n: slight changes to wording, wanna change more but dk what to add you know? hope you guys enjoy this ^^ i don't think reader's gender or any genital body part is specified but i had fem!reader in mind when writing (so watch out for that, pls tell me if there's any)

you're just a rookie and have so much to learn, it must be soo stressful, yes? don't worry because Captain Price here will guide you all the way. he's your very reliable captain, so trust him won't you?

all those tasks that only you seem to get? the ones that somehow end up with you on his lap or in some odd position that could easily be misinterpreted? don’t worry about it, just listen to him! remember to call him captain or sir when talking to him, he is your superior. he’s teaching you the ropes ‘cause he’s sooo kind. you’ll need what you’ve learned with him later on ;>

monday mornings are now spent on your knees in front of him. you're tied up, hands behind your back, gagged and you have to show him you can break free. oh but the ropes are too thick.. and you can't move... and oww they dig into your skin. it hurts! too bad, Captain Price isn't going to stop practicing this with you until you manage to break free. and even then, more practice doesn’t hurt.

thursday evenings have you half naked, bent over his desk as he whips you. gosh.. you really need to build your pain tolerance, you're a crying, whimpering mess on his desk! how will you handle yourself in case some awful person tortured you for information? Captain Price realizes you need a lot of training, so why don't you come on saturdays too?

oh be careful, don't let your tears spill on the documents... geez, you really had to get the papers soaked, didn't you. guess you need a punishment.

you know how he's always palming himself during your training? well now your punishment is helping him out with that. on your knees, half naked, hands tied behind your back, ropes digging into your skin, and guess what? you're going to stay this way until he says so.

he sits in front of your kneeling body on his office chair. his cock growing harder as he lazily strokes himself. his thumb pressed on your lips telling you to open your mouth, his hand holding the side of your head. he guides you closer until the tip of his cock is touching your lower lip.

Captain Price starts slow, he's pretty lenient about your punishment, at first. but god, he's getting more and more frustrated. you are not doing it correctly. the only thing happening is his cock slipping in and out of your mouth. god, you really are dumb. well, that means he just has to teach you, so listen up. he barks out orders between groans; "suck it, rookie. just fucking- ugh, don't use your teeth" but you're a little slow on understanding his verbal orders so he has to start getting physical.

a hand on the back of your head pushing you to take his cock deeper and deeper, until your nose is in his pubic hair. you're gagging and tears begin forming in your eyes. you look up at him, teary faced and you're moaning around his cock. he grunts out a string of curses before letting you go and cumming all over your pretty face.

he'll take off your restraints, look at the bruises and red markings caused by the ropes, tells you to clean yourself up and go to med bay. how will you even explain the marks? ah, doesn't really matter either way. if they find out, that's fine by Price. he doesn't mind if others see his handiwork.

"... next week, same day, my office, at 5."

"yes sir,"

is all you say, because what else can you do? he is your captain, afterall.

[becomingmina]

How they would react to Y/N being clumsy/embarrassed during… smut w/ SKZ Maknae line 18+ only Mdni. {tw: blood}

How they would react to Y/N being clumsy/embarrassed during sex w/ Maknae line:

Han Jisung:

“Jisung.. I’m close,” you moaned, spread out inbetween his legs as he rubs circles on your clit.

“Hold it in,” he says, wanting to edge you more.

You tried to hold it but you were going to burst anytime now. Your hands come to grip the sheet under you and you sink your heels into the bed as you try to help you.

“Ji— Fuck—,” you moaned as he move his fingers faster, applying the right amount of pressure to relief you.

“Ahhh— cummi-,” you moaned, squirming in his chest as cum. You suddenly felt a sharp pain coming from your calf and you helplessly wiggle in his arms.

“Owww, shh— Oww cramp! Cramp!” You cried at the pain. You realised you tensed your leg muscles too much trying to hold in your orgasm, causing your leg to cramp up.

Jisung quickly jump from behind you reaches for your thighs in panic.

“Where? Where?!” He asked, looking all over your body for where cramp was. You lied on the bed on your side, your hand coming up to hold the area that was burning.

“My calf,” you cried, hiding your face in the mattress as it scrunched up at the pain and the embarrassment.

Jisung’s hands replaced yours and he slowly soothes the area with gentle massages. Your hands now comes to cover your head, feeling the pain start to go away.

“You okay now baby?” He places a couple of kisses to your calf before laying besides you, digging his arm underneath your head.

“Just embarrassed..” you admit, lifting your head up so he can put his arm down.

“What? Don’t be,” he giggles softly at you. “What happen? Was I too rough?” You look up to meet his glossy eyes, he wasn’t crying but he was clearly taken back at the situation.

“No.. I just tensed my legs a little too much trying to hold back,” you say, laughing at your own stupidity.

“You’re okay now baby. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have made you hold it in,” he says, leaning in to peck your nose. He feels bad. You listened to him so well but there were consequences - this instant getting a cramp.

“I feel bad, ripping you from your orgasm baby, wanna make it up to you,” Jisung says gently looking into your so too glossy eyes. “Tell me how I can make it up for you?” He asked.

You look down between your bodies and reaches for the erection on his pants. “With this,” you replied back cheekily, forgetting about what just happened.

Lee Yongbok/Felix:

"Where do you want it?" Felix bites his lip, squirming on the the couch, ready to cum.

You don't release him to say anything, hoping he gets the idea you him to empty in your mouth - down your throat.

You bob on his length faster and his hips buckle up hitting harshly against your throat. You feel yourself choking up a little bit at it and suddenly forgot how to breathe.

You pull away from him with a deep breath as he cums, and he shoots his white liquid onto your face, some going straight up your nose. You squirmed, coughing and shaking your head at the hot sensation in your nose. “Ahh—”

Felix laughs at the scene, finding you so cute. “I’m sorry baby.” A hand coming to comb your hair away from your face.

“What happened? I thought you wanted it in your mouth?”

“Couldn’t breathe,” you chuckle, embarrassed. He looked down at you, adoring your flustered complexion.

“You okay now?” He asks. You nod up at him with big eyes, your tongue coming to wipe some of his seed that landed on your lips.

“God, you look so cute like this baby,” he smiles. “Come here,” he taps his thigh and pulls you up from the floor.

“Can’t believe you choked on my dick,” he jokes, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table to clean your face. “Am I that big?” You playfully nudge him.

“You sure you feel okay baby? Your face is still red,” he was so gentle, carefully holding your face to he wipes his mess off.

“I’m okay,” you reassured, wrapping your arms around him leaning in to give him a kiss.

“You did so well. Mmm, wanna reward you,” he says between the kisses as he throws the tissue away. He tugs at the hem of your shorts and gets on top of you, eyeing your body part that he craved.

Kim Seungmin:

“Need.. need something in my mouth Minnie,” you begged. Your boyfriend was slamming into you from the back, hitting your g-spot each time.

“Cum first,” he says sternly but you were too impatient. You wanted to taste him now.

“No!” You moaned with the deep thrust. “Wanna .. wanna suck you off please,” you pleaded gripping the bedsheets underneath you.

“I said cum first,” Seungmin smirked to himself at your eagerness to taste him. He loved when you get desperate.

“Min— I want it,” you say slipping from him before turning around to push your boyfriend back on the bed. He looks at you as you desperately reach for his dick, mouth opening as you kneel down in the process.

“Hey hey hey, slow down!” Seungmin says as your mouth touch the condom, nearly devouring his dick like that. You pull back away from him when you realised what you were about to do.

“You slutty baby,” he laughs at you, finding you absolutely insane and cute for that. You curled up in between his legs, hiding your face on his thighs as your hands squeezed them, an attempt to release your embarrassment. Fuck, you think to yourself. He was never going to let this go now.

“Going to use it against you now,” he holds your head, caressing it to soothe your emotions but he wasn’t going to let you go off easily though.

“You’re crazy,” he teases, lifting your face up.

“You want your dick suck or not?” You retorted, shooting your eyes up at him.

“Yes, but with the condom off,” you takes his the thin plastic off and you rolled your eyes at his expression - he is smirking, what a bully.

“I hate you,” you hide your face again.

“You love me… And my dick,” he runs his down your body before stopping at the globe of your ass.

“Come on, don’t be shy now my dumb baby, hm?” He places a light slap to your ass and you look up at him. “I need your mouth. Want my dick in your mouth so badly,” he begged, using his desperation to get head to cover up your embarrassment.

Yang Jeongin/IN

Jeongin pulls out then rests on his forearms on-top of you as he catches his breath.

“Are you okay?” Jeongin asked, pressing a chaste kiss your your lips.

“Mhmm.. you’re so good,” you praised him, smiling at your gorgeous younger boyfriend. He smiles back at you before looking down at the mess he made, his smile suddenly turning into straight as his brows furrowed.

“What is it?” You say after taking in his face. He looked worried, his eyes waver around the lower part of your body.

“Did I hurt you noona? There's a lot of blood,” You instantly sat up to look down. There were spots of blood on the bed sheets underneath you, on you and on Jeongin’s dick.

“Oh my.. oh my god,” you froze, you were modified, absolutely humiliated. You can’t believe it, out of all the times your period is due it happened right now - while you were having intense sex with your boyfriend. You stared at him with glossy eyes before moving further from him.

“No, don't run away,” he grips your arm. “Is it—” he was going to ask but you were too embarrassed to even be asked that.

“-Yes. It's disgusting, I'm sorry—,”

“—No, it's not,” he was quick to defend you. He hates when you feel embarrassed and especially when it was out of your control too. It also didn’t matter to him, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable by it - as along as you weren’t hurt. “It doesn’t bother me noona,” he reassured, his other hand coming to cup your flustered face.

“Is it okay if I continue?” He wanted to keep going. You thought he would be grossed out by it but no he wasn’t, he was still as hard as a rock.

“But, I don’t.. I don’t want it to get messy,” you say, still feeling a little bit uneasy.

“If you don’t want to continue here..” he places a kiss to your lips. “…you know I’m a big fan of shower sex too,” he smirked and start a feel completely eased now.

“Hm? What do you say?” He moves his kiss down your neck now and you warp your arms around him.

“I like shower sex too,” you say and he wraps your legs around him before getting up and walking you slowly to the bathroom.

Hyung line here 💌

{Notes: Not proof read lol}

[wondipity]

simp ʚɞ park jongseong

ʚɞ basketball player!jay x cellist fem!reader ʚɞ

ʚɞ summary: you decide to invite your life long crush to your orchestra performance hoping it would spark something between the two of you. now the question everyone wants to know is "did it spark something?" ʚɞ

ʚɞ fluff!!! plus high school au ʚɞ

ʚɞ warnings: making out!!! reader has long hair and sunghoon lowkey abuses jay ʚɞ

ʚɞ word count: 1.4k!! ʚɞ

ʚɞ (a/n): 1.4k!! wowwww... my first sorta full fic hehe!! i used to play cello in high school so this sorta just came to me while i was looking through my yearbook so yeah, hope you enjoy guys! ʚɞ

Jay HATED his friends.

“Oh my god man you’re such a simp!” Sunghoon yelled out, throwing the basketball in Jay’s face just to get his point across. Jay grumbled and rubbed his nose where the basketball had smacked him. He jogged across the court to get the ball that had rolled away (and to escape his horrible friends).

Heeseung laughed as Jay came back with the basketball in one hand and Sunghoon’s Gatorade in the other. “Another word out of you and I will dump this into the trash can.” Sunghoon’s eyes widened as he pleaded and let out “no noo’s”'and “the blue flavour is the best one c'mon's''”.

Jay rolled his eyes until he saw you walking into the gym and holy shit you looked gorgeous. Your hair cascaded down your slightly oversized grey sweater and a pretty smile was plastered on your face. Your friends Giselle and Winter were beside you, flyers in hand. Jay could have watched you for ages. Well, until Sunghoon hit him in the head again.

“Oww!” Jay yelled out, glaring at Sunghoon. He didn’t realise how loud he was until he caught you and your friends staring at him weirdly. His cheeks flushed as he looked down and ran to get the basketball. Which coincidentally came to a stop at your feet.

Jay’s cheeks burned brighter and before he could reach down to get the ball, Giselle shoved a flyer in his face. Jay stumbled back a little and you giggled softly before reaching to take the flyer from Giselle’s hands.

Jay watched as you gently handed him the purple and blue flyer. “Here,” you said, your soft voice causing him to take a shaky breath. He carefully took the flyer from you, shivering a bit when your lithe fingers grazed his thicker ones. His eyes scanned the sheet of paper, picking up words like “performance”, “tonight”, and “Decelis Orchestra”.

“We’re performing today,” your pleasant voice caused Jay’s focus to snap to you, wanting to drink in every one of your words. “Please come to the hall at 6 in the evening if you’d like to watch us!”

Your kind eyes and sweet smile was very different from Giselle and Winter’s, whose sarcastic smiles and sharp eyes seemed as if they were telling him ‘come or else!’. So yeah, Jay did what any guy who was in his situation would do. Stay silent for a good minute and mutter a quick “yeah whatever” before RUNNING AWAY FROM HIS FREAKING CRUSH back to his friends who were waiting for him at the basketball court.

How stupid. Jay thought of his actions as stupid.

How cute. You thought of Jay’s actions as cute.

“Girl calm down,” Winter said as Sunoo rubbed your back up and down, trying to calm your nerves. You peeked through the red curtains of the stage, wild eyes roaming the crowd until they stopped at one person. Jay Park.

Your eyes widened and your breaths got shallower. Winter just rolled her eyes as she got a good look at what got you so worked up. “Simp,” she murmured, turning her back to you to yell at Beomgyu to stay in his position. Sunoo just gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before heading to his own position.

“[Name], what are you doing, take a seat!” Jungwon came up to you, obvious panic in his eyes as he looked you up and down. “Mrs Kim gave me a chance to organize this event and if I fail, she will murder me! Now go sit down so you can rock that cello!”

You smiled slightly at Jungwon before taking your seat in the center of the stage. You took a deep breath in and changed the cello position. Jungwon raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded, signifying that you were ready to start. The curtain raised and the bright light shined in your eyes.

3, 2, 1

You close your eyes as the music starts, shutting off your brain. Your fingers draw the bow over the strings as you hum along to the music playing. You loved playing cello. It allows you to forget everything. It allowed you to feel like you.

Your eyes peeked open and you caught sight of Jay, his mouth slightly ajar and his hands frozen midway through the clap position. Seeing your longtime crush have this reaction to the music that you’re playing sent a massive boost of confidence through your veins. You close your eyes once more as you flow along with the music, barely realizing that the performance was over. After playing, nothing mattered. 

The rest of the event was a blur. Teachers, parents, students, and guests all congratulated you. You just smiled and nodded. Jungwon came up to you and hugged you, telling you about how he was now going to run so many more events at school. You just smiled and nodded. Your parents came up to you, taking so many photos and asking if you had a good time. You just smiled and nodded. But when Jay came up to you, you didn’t smile and nod. You didn’t have time to.

Jay rushed up to you and hugged you tight, knocking the breath out of you. You blinked once, then twice then wasted no time in hugged him back, because fuck, your crush of 4 years was hugging you and you’d be a fool not to take advantage of this. “You were amazing,” you heard Jay mumble into your shoulder.

You bit back a smile and muttered a soft “thank you” in response. “Seriously, you brought tears to my eyes [Name],” Jay said, pulling away to look at you. You giggled and brushed a lock of hair away from your eyes. You felt Jay’s dark eyes scaling your face before he did the unthinkable.

HE KISSED YOU!

Well, not like a real kiss.

You stood there completely frozen as Jay pecked your cheek lightly. You looked up at him as he looked down, looking as if he was about to apologize. But you didn’t let him. Because this time you did the unthinkable.

.

.

.

YOU KISSED HIM!

(And a real kiss this time) This time it was Jay’s turn to be flustered. Your soft lips enveloped his and you let out a soft sigh into his mouth. Jay got over it quicker than you did though and a soft growl escaped him before he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, giving him a chance to push his tongue into your mouth.

You smiled into the kiss as you ran your fingers through Jay’s hair, prompting a soft groan out of him. He pulled away first, panting heavily as his sharp nose nudged yours. “I’ve wanted to do that since forever,” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You giggled and said “I’ve wanted you to do that since forever, which is why I invited you here.” Jay blinked then chuckled letting his head fall back as his laugh grew louder. He grinned at you and whispered in your ear “Could've just told me sweetheart,” His warm breath fanned your ear, causing you to shudder.

You shared another sweet kiss before Sunghoon started cheering for you guys. You broke the kiss and looked on with wide eyes as Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jake were all cheering loudly while Giselle, Winter, Jungwon, Sunoo just gave you a thumbs up and made other supportive signals.

Oh God, you and Jay were done for.

“SIMP!” 

Just like old times, Sunghoon was abusing Jay physically and Jay was abusing Sunghoon verbally while Heeseung and Jake just watched on and laughed. The only thing that was different was the group of orchestra kids on the bleachers cheering them on.

Jay huffed as Sunghoon threw the ball way too far once more. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered but the angry look on his face melted into a smile when he saw where the ball landed. You caught the ball with your (surprisingly agile) cellist hands and threw it to him so he wouldn’t have to come here.

But he did anyway. He came and he kissed you and he brushed your hair out of your face and he told you how you were the most beautiful girl in the world and he caressed your cheeks and rubbed your noses together and-

And Sunghoon hit him with the ball again.

“YAHHHH!!!!”

[sweetsweetjellybean]

After the kiss you can't forget about, your past and present with Eddie collide under the glow of the city lights and the glittering stars at the City Beats launch party.

Masterlist Listen to Clumsy Here

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago.  Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Mentions of DV. Smut Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

WC: 11646 beta'd by @superblysubpar

“Stop being such a baby and just let me look.”

The light in Eddie’s bathroom buzzes with a slight flicker, casting a pallid tint over the worn linoleum and water-stained sink.

“I don’t recall anyone asking for your services here, Florence Nightingale,” Eddie grumbles, perched on the edge of the vanity with a blood-soaked washcloth pressed against his forehead. The knuckles on his right hand are swollen and split, and the scrape along his jaw is already turning colors. 

You pour a little iodine on a cotton ball you grabbed from the first-aid kit— the one your dad made you keep in your car for emergencies, though this probably isn’t what he had in mind. “Who else is going to patch you up?” you question, shifting until you’re standing in the space between his spread legs.

With a sigh, he lowers the washcloth and tosses it into the sink. Blood wells up in the gash above his brow, the skin around it swollen and purple. As gently as possible, you dab around the cut with cotton.

“Oww.” He winces and leans away. “That shit stings.”

"Sorry." You push up on your tippy toes, drawing closer, one hand resting on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. The scent of his apple shampoo tickles your nose as his hand moves to your hip, anchoring you. You purse your lips and blow gently over his wound to soothe the sting. His chest expands with a sharp intake of breath.

"Better?" you whisper, a flood of butterflies taking flight within you. His fingers press tighter into your skin, your shirt inching upward, eliminating the barrier between his touch and your warmth. 

"Yeah." His throat bobs, his gaze roaming your face.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

His grip on you loosens as his eyes fall away.

You pick up one of the butterfly strips, pulling back the adhesive tabs. “You said you weren’t going to do anything. I asked you not to.” 

The faucet drips into the cracked tub as you press the strip into place. “It was my choice to end things, Eddie. It didn’t feel…it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

He grabs your fingers, holding them away. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have been running around with him in the first place.”

The anger in his tone has you stepping back until you can feel the towel bar pressing into your shoulders. He stands and faces away from you, shaking his head.

“So what? I’m a slut now?” Your voice is small in the cramped space, bouncing off half-filled bottles of shampoo and shaving cream. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him about losing your virginity to Parker Hayes in the backseat of his mom’s Chevy last weekend. But that’s something you tell your best friend, right? Eddie has certainly never shied away from sharing his sexual exploits with you. Maybe, deep down, you had been hoping for some kind of reaction, but not this. 

“No.” His shoulders slump as he turns to face you, the hardness in his stance softening. “I don't think that way,” he explains, his voice growing gentler, “and I'd never think that about you. I want you to date. I want you to have everything. I just want to…” The rest of the sentence dies in his throat as a familiar shadow falls over his eyes, dimming their warmth. “I guess this is what happens when you're friends with a chick,” he chuckles.

“Might have been easier if Gareth had moved down the street instead of me.” You switch gears to match his tone, a familiar move after all this time.

“Yeah, you’re a pain in the ass,” he says, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Speaking of Gareth, I got a thing.” His gaze drops to his wrist, but he’s never worn a watch. “Lock up when you leave, alright?” 

You're still standing in his bathroom when the front door clicks closed. 

Your hands smooth down the skirt of your long-sleeved mini-dress. Its modest front sits elegantly at your collarbone, but the back—you twist your head to check the mirror behind you—the back dramatically plunges to just above the curve of your ass.

“Wow.” Steve stands stopped in his tracks at the entrance of your walk-in closet, his eyes drinking you in. “You look like a sunset.” He moves behind you, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder as his hand slides over the rose gold sequins covering your dress. 

“You’re not too shabby yourself, handsome.” You turn to get the full effect of his designer camel-striped suit with a bright mustard tie. “I always like you in yellow,” you tell him, running a finger down the cool silk. 

His smile widens as he grips your hips, spinning you back towards the mirror, wrapping his arms around your middle. “We should do this more often,” he says, holding your gaze in the reflection.

“What?” you ask, crossing your arms over his. “Launch streaming radio services?”

“No, smart ass.” His lips find your temple. “Get dressed up like this and go out. With everyone coming, do you know what it reminds me of?”

“Dare I ask?” You flutter your lashes. 

His grip on you tightens in a deliberate firmness that has you tensing. He steals another kiss, pausing for a moment before saying, “Prom.”

“Uck,” you moan, stepping out of his arms and moving to the island to pick up a pair of earrings. “Your parents went to prom? How sad.”

“Come on. Not them.” He shoves his hands in his pants pockets, his gaze tracking your movements. “Everyone else, though. Didn’t you have fun at prom?”

“I don’t remember,” you shrug, attaching the diamond to your lobe.

“Of course not. How stupid of me,” his tone drips sarcasm as he shakes his head, “How could I have forgotten about your Hawkins amnesia.”

The shrill melody of his ringtone sounds from the bedroom, pulling him away before words can escalate. Lately, high school memories seem to invade every conversation, leaving a residue of guilt that clings tighter with each mention. Alone, you face the mirror, taking a steadying breath. He’s under a lot of pressure. This is his night. You plaster a smile on your face, forcing a semblance of calm. You owe him.

With a final glance, you slip on a nude pair of heels and move to the bedroom to let him know you're ready. Steve’s phone is discarded on the bed beside him, where he sits with slumped shoulders and his hands raking through the hair he had just spent time styling. 

“Baby?” You keep your voice soft as you sit down next to him, your hand moving to rub circles on his back. “What’s going on?”

He glances up, only now becoming aware of your presence. "It's my parents," he murmurs, his lashes fluttering with rapid blinks as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "They've decided not to come."

“What? But they’re at the hotel.” Your mind races over the possibilities, “Are they okay? Did something happen?”

“Yeah, my dad ran into a client. That’s what happened.” Steve's voice hardens, taking on a bitter edge as he echoes his father's words, “Business is business, Steve. You understand, don’t you, son?” 

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say in a near whisper, covering his hand with yours.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t really want them here, you know? But when I dropped by the hotel this afternoon with the tickets, my dad actually seemed proud of me for once. Fuck. I feel so dumb for getting excited.” He pulls his hand from yours to tug at the messy strands falling over his brow before his eyes find yours again.  “Did I ever tell you about my baseball coach in middle school?”

“No,” you shake your head, shifting on the bed to move even closer beside him, offering what comfort you can.

“Coach Patterson.” His eyes fall to his lap. “He tried talking to him once when he dropped me off for a game. He told him that it would mean a lot if he’d stayed and watched me play. But Dad…” Steve's voice falters, “He just looks at me and says, ‘I've got better things to do than watch you lose.’”

“Steve-”

His eyes bore into yours, filling your chest with an ache. “The thing is, we did win, but he still never stayed.  He didn’t believe in me. I guess he still doesn’t.”

His phone screen brightens with an incoming call, and he picks it up, silencing it with a push of a button. “I've poured everything I have into this, trying to be perfect, what they—what everyone—expects me to be.” The frustration builds in his voice,“But no matter how hard I try, it'll never be enough. Not for them. And maybe... not for you either.”

You cradle his larger hand between yours, wishing he could see himself through your eyes. “You’ve always been enough.”

“I want to give you everything–”

“Steve, stop. You can’t live for other people. Pursue this because it brings you fulfillment, not for anyone else. Think about everything your dad has given your mom. Do you think it’s made them happy?”

He pulls his hand from yours, a fleeting shadow crossing his features as his gaze drifts to some distant point in the room. “I’d never treat you the way he treats her.” 

“That’s right.” Gently, you cup his face, your thumbs brushing lightly against his jaw, coaxing his gaze back to you. “You’re better than him. And if he can’t see that or celebrate your wins, that’s his shortcoming. Tonight is going to go off without a hitch, and Richard is going to thank his lucky stars for having the good sense to have assigned you City Beats.”

Leaning in, you press a soft, deliberate kiss to his lips. “You deserve your success.” His hand rises to cover yours, and your face softens into a smile. “Now, can we go? I need you to dance with me during the slow songs. I’ll even let you pretend we’re at prom.” 

The corners of his mouth rise, his chuckle warming the space between you as he leans in, your foreheads touching gently. “What would I do without you, Ace?” The words are gentle as his lips seek out yours. A car horn blares from the street below, breaking the moment. “I think our driver is getting antsy.”

“Well then, handsome,” you say, a gentle determination in your voice as you smooth out an imaginary crease on his jacket. “Let’s go to a party.” 

Dozens of spotlights pierce the night, illuminating the iconic Adler Planetarium. Limos and sleek cars roll up, dropping off the who’s who of the city—celebrities, influential politicians, and tech moguls—onto the red carpet-lined stairs. Banners emblazoned with the City Beats logo wave from the art deco building's great dome, set against the dark waters of the lake and the distant city lights. 

“Wow,” you breathe as Steve takes your hand and helps you out of the car. The magnitude of the moment takes over. Now it’s your turn to be impressed. “Baby, you did all this!” 

Steve’s signature smirk takes over his face, his cheeks tinting with a flush from your compliment. A camera flash pops in your face as you step out onto the red carpet. With a deep breath, you tighten your hold on his hand. The PR team's efforts have paid off. Photogs from all over the city and national publications line the step and repeat. The air is a blend of lake chill and expensive perfumes as you await your turn to be photographed. Steve’s reassuring hand, firm along your ribs, holds you steady as the flashes blind you. His gaze drops to yours, brimming with unmistakable pride, lending you his confidence. A quick squeeze of his hand coaxes a genuine smile as you face the cameras together.

“Not used to being on this side,” you murmur, keeping your teeth on display under the relentless flashes.

He chuckles, drawing you forward. “You're a natural,” he whispers, guiding you to the entrance with a hand at your back.

As you step into the grand foyer, your name being called pierces the hum of conversations. Rihanna waves from across the room, her manicured hand catching the light. She mouths ‘Call me’ before being swept away by her very tall date.

"Was that–" Steve asks, eyes widening. 

"I interviewed her last year," you explain, returning her smile with your own as she navigates the crowd. 

"Must have made an impression. That was the new point guard for the Chicago Bulls." His eyebrows raise as he watches them disappear into the throng of guests. Leaning in, his breath tickles your ear, “I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore, Dorothy.”

Light laughter bubbles from your throat. “Thanks, Toto,” you quip, threading your arm into the crook of his elbow, letting him lead you along.

Abstract designs mimicking sound waves, musical notes set into star patterns, and cosmic shapes elegantly adorn the solarium. The floor-to-ceiling windows extend the celestial theme, allowing for sweeping views of the night sky. 

“From Skyline to Bassline: This is City Beats Streaming Radio.” 

The DJ's smooth voice transitions the songs playing through the speakers as they live-stream from a platform beside a wall of digital screens alive with a social media feed and a map showing millions of listeners around the world tuning in. 

Steve lets go of your hand as he’s swarmed with department heads buzzing with reports and updates. You stand alone, crossing one hand over another as muted conversation hums under the beat of the music. The waitstaff weaves through the crowd, offering trays of fluted glasses brimming with bubbling champagne, and you gratefully accept a glass. Guests interact with kiosks exploring the different channels offered by City Beats, including specific music genres, news, and talk shows, while others move onto the themed lounges or drift out to the terrace for the small bites and views of the city.

“Harrington.” Richard's booming voice sends Steve’s staff scattering into the crowd. “Everything is looking just splendid, son.” He greets Steve with a firm handshake before his voice drops,“Now, how are those numbers?”

You look away, rolling your eyes out of view as you drain the rest of your glass. He can’t give Steve five minutes of peace. 

“According to sales, we are easily beating the first round of projections and are slated to hit our monthly target in the next hour.” Steve’s voice is filled with cool confidence, but his palm is damp when his fingers slip between yours. 

“That’s good to hear,” Richard says, the tightness in his expression easing as the redness circling his face begins to fade. He leans closer to Steve, his tone firm, “I don't think I need to remind you that Second City has a lot riding on this, which means you've got a lot riding on this.”

Steve's lips press together in a firm line as he stands a little taller and smooths a hand over his tie. Your teeth clamp down on the inside of your lip, forcing your silence. 

A waiter glides to your side, stopping to collect your empty glass. You place your flute on his tray a touch too forcefully. The clink with the other glasses is louder than intended, breaking the moment. Richard straightens, his attention drawn to you for the first time. He steps back, the wheels turning behind his eyes as he tries to place you.

His manufactured grin returns as he claps Steve on the shoulder. “Keep up the excellent work, my boy. This is impressive.” He waves a hand, gesturing around the party, “I don’t know what any of it is, but it’s impressive,” he laughs, expecting you to join him. When you only muster a weak smile, his laughter fades, replaced by a brief, awkward silence.

“I’m glad you brought the little lady with you tonight, Steve. She just gets prettier and prettier,” Richard continues, not missing a beat. “My wife’s around here somewhere, probably telling someone how to do their job,” he chuckles, then signals a waitress for more drinks. “Make sure you say hello. She loves gossiping with the other wives.” Handing you both a fresh glass, he adds, “Now, see to it our boy here doesn't work too hard, okay?” With a final pat on Steve’s shoulder and a wag of his finger in your direction, Richard moves off into the crowd.

Steve exhales quietly, the tension leaving his shoulders, as he gently squeezes your hand.

“I don’t know how you stand him,” you fume, “How many years have I worked here, and the bastard doesn't even recognize me.”

“Trust me, you’re better off not being on his radar,” Steve replies, downing his champagne in one go before passing the empty glass off to a passing waiter. “I’m sure he’s going to be on my ass when I meet with the investors.”

“But it’s such a nice ass,” you grin over the rim of your glass, letting the bubbles tickle your lips.

His eyes gleam as he leans in a little closer, but his response dissolves before it's spoken. Warmth heats the bare skin of your back as someone steps close behind you. Your stomach plummets like a rollercoaster, and goosebumps dot your arms—there's no need to look.

“Eddie,” Steve welcomes him with a handshake that shifts to an embrace. “You made it.”

Since the kiss, Eddie has honored your request, maintaining the distance you needed— a display of restraint that the high school version of him might not have managed.  But after your talk with Hopper and the shadow of the looming deadline creeping closer, it was only a matter of time before you had to face him. And the clock has just run out. 

“How could I pass this up?” Eddie’s gaze darts around the solarium before landing on you. “Doll.” He leans in, placing a light kiss on your cheek before turning back to Steve. “This is some party. Congratulations, man.” 

"Thanks for passing the word down your contact list,” Steve says, his tone sincere. “My head of PR mentioned you've made her job a hell of a lot easier." 

“Happy to help,” he shrugs, adjusting the gold cufflinks at his wrists. He’s ignored the last few buttons of his pressed black shirt and worn it open-collar, allowing a glimpse of the fine black-inked lines that grace the skin of his chest. 

“Do you own a suit that isn’t black?” You ask, eyeing the slim-fit pinstripe, that's obviously been tailored to fit him like a glove. “Or is that a rental?”

“Ace,” Steve chides.

Eddie laughs, the sound rich and easy. “Gotta match with the sweet old tats, don’t I?” The edge that once sharpened your words now fails to cut. His smile blooms into dimples, and it’s contagious. Despite the crackling of nerves and self-made promises, he disarms you. A line creases Steve’s brow as the moment hangs, and your smirk echoes Eddie’s.

A peel of laughter rises above the blend of music and conversation as the party continues. A harried junior staffer pushes through the crowd, bumping shoulders and muttering apologies as she tries to keep a stray lock of hair from escaping her updo. “Steve, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she keeps her voice low despite her breathlessness. “Ted's already on his fifth bourbon, and he's cornered Harris Blake from Bean City Brews. He's telling that joke about the nun and the circus tent, and I think we are about to lose half of our ad revenue for this quarter."

"Shit," Steve mutters, his fingers raking through his hair. "Okay, let's deal with this." Relief washes over the staffer's face as she quickly turns, leading the way.

Steve pauses, his eyes meeting yours, an apology written on his face. "I’m-”

"It's okay. Go," you reassure with a squeeze of his bicep. His lips lift at the corners before he turns away, disappearing into the crowd as your gaze lingers after him.

The weight of Eddie’s eyes settles on you before you’ve even turned to meet them. “So, is this the part where I chase you around all night until you finally agree to talk to me?” he asks, closing the distance with a step forward.

“Actually, I thought we’d skip that part.” Your eyes dip to your shoes, avoiding his stare. “I want to apologize for what happened. I let my emotions get the better of me. It was unprofessional.” 

“Unprofessional?” Surprise lifts brows before his lips press together in a hard line. “Come with me.” His hand closes over yours, pulling you through the solarium without looking back before you can object. 

“Eddie-” you start, but he’s already ushering you into the double doors of the sky theater.

He doesn’t stop as he leads you into the darkness, the room illuminated only by the soft rows of small floor lights as the soaring domed ceiling swirls with violet and periwinkle projections of the starry sky. Ignoring the few others milling around, he tugs you into the privacy of the shadows, finally releasing your hand. In the orchid-tinged light, his stare holds a depth that's hard to look away from. “This isn’t business, doll. You mean every–” he swallows, “you’re my closest friend.”

“You don’t even know me anymore, Eddie.” Your head shakes, silently begging him to understand.

His hands move to grip your shoulders. “There are some things that time can’t change.”

“It can’t happen again,” you state in a firm voice, taking a step back and widening the gap between you. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets, waiting as a couple meanders past, pointing out Cassiopeia. “Then what do you propose?”

“I’ll finish the articles.”

“And then?”

“And then everything goes back to the way it was. I'm sure we'll cross paths from time to time.” The words emerge on a strained breath, tightness seizing your lungs. “It’s for the best.” 

“That’s not good enough,” he counters, the shake of his head cutting through the dim light. “I want you in my life.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You can.” He inches closer, blowing out a sigh. “Look, it was my fault. Be my friend. Draw that line, and we won’t cross it. I know you’re still pissed at me, but we can work through it.” His voice falters, the earlier resolve in his eyes melting into a plea. “Aren’t you tired of carrying all this around inside of you?”

His question softens the tension in your chest, suggesting a sliver of peace you hadn't known you were seeking. Maybe the scars etched on your heart for so long have also shielded it from joy. You swallow the lump in your throat, offering an almost imperceptible nod.

“Can you try for me?” he pleads. 

“I can’t make you any promises,” you nod again, more sure this time. “But I’ll try.” 

His thumb gently traces the side of your face before his arms circle you, pulling you close against him—the scent of vanilla and clove clings to his jacket. Under your cheek, the fabric is cool and smooth, tinged with a hint of tobacco, taking you someplace you thought was lost. 

“Don’t mark up my suit with that shit you wear all over your face,” he teases, his hold on you not lessening an inch. “It is a rental.”

There is a tentative hopefulness in your newly minted truce with Eddie. Almost as tangible as the pulse of the bass vibrating through the soles of your shoes. His smile, easy and unguarded, lights up his face as he guides you through the sea of finely dressed attendees with a hand resting on your lower back. Stopping to exchange hellos and handshakes with a group of industry professionals who are eager to discuss his Studio opening. He pushes the topic aside in favor of introducing you.  With an effortless charm, he leaves no room for doubt about your credentials as a journalist at Stax and suggests the value an interview with you would bring to their clients.

“What?” His eyebrows lift, amusement playing across his features as he catches the pleased look on your face as you tuck a handful of new business cards into your clutch.

“Are you auditioning to be my new publicist?” you tease, your brain already teeming with the new articles his introduction just made a possibility. 

The warmth of his laughter is becoming a welcome sound. “I’ll be anything you want, doll,” he offers, the words punctuated by a flirtatious flash of his dimples.

A snort accompanies the roll of your eyes, even as your stomach flutters. 

“I’m proud of you, you know? he adds, a soft earnestness in his tone. “I like showing you off.” The tenderness in his expression doesn't waver as he follows you through the solarium. You find your fiancée chatting with a familiar face. A welcome distraction from all things Eddie. 

“Dulcita,” Argyle wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Looking bitchin, as always. That dress is killer.”

Laughing, you nod toward his outfit, “Well, I’m just trying to keep up. You look amazing.” 

With an exaggerated flourish, he poses with his thumbs stretching the lapels of his periwinkle floral suit before turning to greet  Eddie with a handshake. 

Steve's hand finds its way to your hip, drawing you near. "I thought I’d lost you. Where'd you disappear to?"

“Just exploring a bit,” you offer, meeting his look with a smile, but his eyes shift past you toward Eddie.

A pretty blonde waitress weaves through the crowd, her tray of fresh drinks catching Eddie's attention. He flags her down with a tilt of his head and a confident wink. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, plucking a few glasses from her tray to pass around.

“This event is popping off,” Argyle chimes in, taking a glass and nodding toward Steve. “Congrats, dude. I couldn’t have planned this better myself.”

Eddie extends a glass in your direction. “Doll?” 

Steve’s shoulders tense as his stare fills the space between you and Eddie, the sides of his mouth dipping. “Have you eaten?” he asks, his hand tightening slightly on your waist.

For a heartbeat, you just look at him, letting the wave of irritation roll past. Your teeth sink into your lip as you decline Eddie’s offer with a shake of your head. 

Eddie's face tightens, a flash of restrained agitation crossing his features as he retracts the glass and dismisses the waitress with a polite nod. Argyle, shifts uncomfortably, his lips pursed into an O as his gaze skitters across the room. 

Turning fully towards Steve with a soft expression, you aim for lightness. “Argyle’s right, you know. It all looks perfect, Steve,” you say, channeling warmth into your words, “Everyone’s having a great time. All your hard work is really paying off.”

Half of his mouth lifts as his gaze wanders over the crowd. “Guess we’ll see on Monday when the final numbers come in. Richard is already pushing to take City Beats national.”

Your face falls, “But that’s...that’s a massive undertaking. You’d have to restructure everything, wouldn’t you?”

Steve nods, his expression turning heavy. “Yeah, it would mean a major overhaul, not just in marketing but across multiple departments. We'd likely need to set up satellite offices in other cities, which means a lot of travel for me. It’s ultimately up to the investors, though.”

“Not too shabby, Harrington,” Argyle says, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “You’re going to be running with the big dogs now.”

The conversation becomes muted as worry knots your stomach. Steve doesn’t seem to realize that his decisions impact more than just his own future. The coming months loom large with late nights and lost weekends. The toll won’t be just the dark circles under his hazel eyes but the shared moments slipping away like water through your fingers. His relentless drive for success and approval is edging him closer to repeating his father's mistakes—becoming distant, hollow, bitter. Pouring himself into work to the point of exhaustion, neglecting those he loves, just as he was once neglected. You can't just watch as he loses himself, not when you see the signs, feel the strain.

“Come on, Ace, smile for me. This is a good thing.” Steve says with a soft tone as his lips find your temple.

“I know that, and I’m so proud of you,” you manage, lifting your cheeks in the look of adorement he hopes to see. “You work so hard. I just worry.”

His hand shifts to cradle your jaw, tipping your chin to meet his gaze. “It will be fine, I promise. I’ll take some time before things really ramp up,” he reassures, the corners of his hopeful eyes crinkling. “Maybe for a honeymoon?”

“Sounds like someone is trying to think of excuses to get out of the actual work,” Nancy’s voice slices through the moment, her arrival almost as commanding as the deep plum of her silk dress that clings and flows in all the right places, complementing her sleek dark hair.

“A national campaign?” Jonathan steps beside Nancy, his narrow tie and vintage-cut suit making him look straight from the 1950s. “You might as well give back the ring now. Sounds like he’s already married to his work,” he leans toward you, cupping his mouth like a secret, earning him a chuckle from the rest of the group. 

Ignoring him, Steve directs his attention to Nancy with a self-assured smirk. “Thanks for showing up, Nance. Wouldn’t want you to miss the moment Second City leaves Spectrum behind for the history books."

Her eyes narrow as her arms cross over her slender body, “That’s adorable, Steve, really. But the idea that your little radio project outshines a whole TV network? Please..”

Steve lets out a snort as his hands move to his hips. “Last I checked, Spectrum's sprawling empire was one channel.” 

“We're thinking of expanding,” her voice is as smooth as silk as she examines her nails. 

“With the tech we’re developing for on-demand music, who’s going to need cable?”

“If you can manage–”

“If I may suggest putting away the rulers,” Argyle’s voice rises above their bickering, “It’s Steve’s party, and I think we’ve had enough dick measuring for the evening.”

“Fine,” Nancy agrees as she holds Steve's stare, matching his smug expression, “I’ll concede. Congratulations on your accomplishments, Steve.”

“Appreciated,” Steve says, with a tip of his chin. 

“But let's be clear,” Nancy adds, unable to help herself, “my dick is still bigger.”

Argyle groans as Jonathan's eyes roll skyward. Eddie takes a gulp of champagne, trying to stem his laughter.

“Where’s Robin?” you ask, cutting off whatever retort Steve was planning before it has a chance to leave his mouth, “Didn’t she ride with you guys?”

“She took off at the coat check with Jessie J—something about a twerking tutorial,” Jonathan explains, looking confused as he tucks his hands in his pockets. 

Nancy's laugh tinkles with mischief. “Trust me, it's a sight. Robin insists she's better.”

“Well, I’m not missing that,” Eddie says, polishing off his drink, “I’ll catch you all later.” He turns and leaves your group, placing his empty glass on a waiter's tray as he walks past. 

As he melts into the crowd, Nancy's gaze shifts to Richard making his way toward your circle. Her smile tightens ever so slightly, “Oh god. Is that Richard Kingsley?” she asks Steve. “I thought he’d have retired by now, off riding a golf cart in Florida.” 

“No such luck.” Steve mutters under his breath, “Play nice, please.”

“I’m always nice,” she whispers before she plasters on her grin, “Richard.”

Richard approaches with a practiced smile, extending his hand to Nancy. “Nancy Wheeler, Spectrum’s shining star in the digital domain, or so I’ve been told. They’ve certainly sent us their best tonight. How’s the world of content directing? ”

“Actually, Richard,”  Steve quickly corrects, his voice firm yet courteous as he positions himself alongside Nancy, “Vice President of Content Strategy. Nancy’s been leading the charge there for over a year now.” 

Richard's smile doesn't falter as he turns to Nancy. "My apologies, Nancy. I’m sure it's a well-deserved promotion.” She offers him a polite smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes as he continues, “Your insights at the conference in New York were…enlightening. It's always good to have industry leaders like yourself in attendance.”

As if on cue, a junior staff photographer weaves through the crowd. Richard snaps his finger at him, seizing the opportunity, "Let's capture this moment, shall we? A picture for the company archives.”

“Better him than me,” Jonathan mutters as the staffer directs the group a few feet away, ensuring the City Beats Logo will frame the background of the photo. Richard positions himself at the center, patting at the shine of his red face with a handkerchief before draping an arm over each of their shoulders.

“That’s depressing,” Jonathan snorts, watching the setup. “Well, I'm off to find a drink that matches my cynicism,” he adds, taking the opportunity to slip away, leaving you alone with Argyle.

“So,” The sweetness of pineapple and weed hit your nose as Argyle leans over your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear, “It looks like you and Eddie sorted out your shit, huh?”

“We’re tolerating each other,” you tell him without turning your head. 

“I don’t know, man,” he muses, his eyes narrowing, “Tolerance was not the look on your face when you walked in here with him.”

A huff escapes your throat as you whip around to face him. “I’m interviewing him, remember?” you ask, trying to keep defensiveness out of your voice. “I'm just trying to be…pleasant.” 

“You can tell yourself whatever you need to,” he adds, concern written across his face. “But from where I’m standing, you look like you’re in way over your head.”

The words die in your throat as Eddie reappears, weaving through the crowd with the grace of someone used to navigating this kind of affair. In one hand, he balances a plate arranged with an assortment of canapes and sushi, each piece a miniature work of art. His deep brown eyes keenly focused on you. “Eat something, doll,” he suggests, handing the plate over to you.

That feeling wells up in your stomach as you purse your lips, trying not to let your mouth stretch too big in front of Argyle, although he probably has picked up on the heat rising to your face. “Thanks,” you say shyly, accepting the plate. 

“I’ll snag one,” Argyle reaches toward your plate with two fingers.

 Eddie brows lower. “You can get your own, they’re not charging.”

“Sheesh, I know, dude. They're from my restaurant,” Argyle informs him.

“Then you know exactly where to get more,” Eddie counters.

“Did you find Robin?” you ask, changing the subject. “Was she twerking?”

“Yeah, I caught the tail end of it. And I’ll never unsee it,” his genuine laughter fills the space. “I think it’s burned into my retinas.”

“Mrs. Harrington," comes the voice of a junior staffer materializing beside you with such abruptness that the plate nearly slips from your grasp. "They want you in the photo now.”

“Umm, sure,” you say, glancing to where Steve is standing with Nancy, laughing at something she said. Eddie takes the plate from you, his easy smile from earlier erased by the downturn of his lips. 

Smoothing down your skirt, you follow the photographer, consciously relaxing the clench of your jaw over how you were addressed. Steve’s eyes sparkle with warmth as he makes space for you between himself and Nancy, Richard positioned at the end. The clear happiness on his face eases your irritation. His hand finds a place on your ribs, pulling you into his side before the photographer directs you where to look. 

“Very nice,” Richard comments with a nod after the flash goes off. 

“One for your company Christmas card,” Nancy quips, throwing a look in Steve's direction.

Richard, not missing a beat, turns to you both. “Yes, well, it’s always a pleasure, Ms. Wheeler. I hope you enjoy the party,” he says before shifting to Steve. “Ready to give the investors a tour, my boy? They’ve had their share of drinks. Should be just about softened up for you now.”

“I’ll be right with you, Richard.” Steve waves him off, his eyes softening as he looks down at you, “You going to be okay on your own for a while, Ace?”

“Absolutely,” you tell him, rising to your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re going to kill it, handsome.” 

The side of his mouth tips up as you use your thumb to wipe away the gloss you left behind. “How did I get so lucky?” he wonders aloud, his gaze locked on yours. Leaning in, he captures your lips with his in a kiss that lingers a beat too long for a public place. 

“I'll find you later.” Regret clouds his eyes as he pulls back, slipping on the professional mask he wears far too often. He walks away with Richard in tow.

“I better go find Jonathan,” Nancy tells Argyle and Eddie as you rejoin your friends, “or he’ll end up in a corner talking politics all night, and I made him promise me that he’d dance with me for at least one song.” 

“You can sign me up for one too, Wheeler,” Eddie says, popping a piece of sushi in his mouth. “No arm twisting required.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Munson,” she promises, pointing a playful finger at him before turning to leave, her dress swirling behind her.

“You, Eddie Muson, volunteering to dance,” you tease, your expression mockingly shocked. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

“Play your cards right, doll, and I’ll show you up close and personal,” Eddie says, his eyebrows dancing as he offers you a canapé.

“That’s alright, Eddie. I’ve got my regular dance partner right here, right Argyle?” you say, looping your arm through his.

“Yeah... yup,” Argyle murmurs, his attention momentarily snagged by a tall brunette striding past. She sweeps a waterfall of silky hair over her shoulder, pretending not to notice him, but the extra sway added to her hips says otherwise. 

“Solo dame una noche con ese culo y te haré mami, querida,” Argyle calls after her, untangling himself from your arm.  

“Traitor,” you accuse, watching him go with a shake of your head as he follows after her without a backward glance.

“Ve por ella, amigo,” Eddie encourages with a booming laugh.

Turning back to you, he rocks on his heels, a smirk playing on his lips. “Looks like it’s just you and me, doll.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to look so happy about it,” you chide when his dimples make an appearance, sending the rusted chains around your heart rattling when it jumps under your ribs. Maybe Argyle wasn’t too far off the mark.

A brisk wind cuts across the dark surface of Lake Michigan. The City Beats logo burns bright in yellow neon, its light spilling over the outdoor stage and dancing across the water’s surface in a rotation of colors. Despite the press of bodies, warmth is scarce, with the night air nipping at any exposed skin. Before you can even think of shivering, Eddie drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders, the fabric holding the residual warmth of his body. He stands close beside you, seemingly unfazed by the cool temperature, as Maroon 5 concludes their set.

The crowd sways as one, heads bobbing in sync with the rhythm pulsing into the chilly evening. The spice of Eddie's cologne is a veil around you, drawing you closer into his orbit. Glancing his way, you expect his attention to be on the show, eyes tracking each note and chord. Instead, you find the intensity of his gaze fixed on you.

As the song ends with the band offering their thanks, the MC dashes on stage to announce the next performer. With a tip of his chin, Eddie motions for you to follow him. Together, you squeeze through the crowd, walking along the path at the lake's edge until the sea of people begins to thin, their noise fading into a distant murmur until it's just the two of you left, accompanied by the quiet hush of waves lapping against the bank. 

He stops, gazing out over the water, city lights dancing in his eyes. “I almost forgot how your face changes when you listen to music. It’s like the lyrics break right through, lighting you up from the inside.”

“My one true love,” you respond with a wistful sigh, giving him a shrug. 

“Oh yeah?” He turns toward you, inching a bit closer to reach into the breast pocket of the suit jacket enveloping your shoulders. He pulls out a tightly rolled joint, eyeing you with a raised brow. “What’s with all the ‘Mrs. Harrington’ business?” he asks, placing the joint between his lips and fishing a brass Zippo from his pants pocket. “Did you get married and forget to invite me?”

Your eyes flash skyward as he lights it with a practiced flick and takes a deep drag. “I don’t know...Steve encourages it. I think it’s his way of reminding me he’s waiting for me to set a date.”

He passes you the joint and blows out a lung full of white smoke that swirls into the night air.  “You have left the poor sap waiting for a while.”

“I don’t want to talk about my relationship with you, Eddie,” you say, flicking the ash off the burning paper's end before pressing it to your lips and inhaling. 

“Why not?” His gaze probes, seeking an opening, a slip, anything. “Friends talk about their relationships, don’t they?”

You can’t help but cough, the potency of the smoke catching you off guard. “You know exactly why not,” you retort, passing the joint back to him. A soft fog settles over your thoughts, smoothing out the evening’s sharpness. “And you? Volunteering to help with the guest list...” You eye him skeptically, “Trying to ease your conscience?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes another hit, “It was only a couple of texts, doll,” he says, passing the joint back to you, his fingers brushing yours. “Trust me, I sleep just fine at night. What’s between you and me started long before Steve entered the picture.”

 "Well, he’s here now," you assert with defiance, your gaze locked with Eddie's as the joint burns down in your fingers. 

His fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding your left hand into the streetlamp's glow until the diamond on your finger flashes. "I guess he is. But doll," he steps closer, his eyes holding yours, "so am I."

“Yeah? Let’s wait and see if you stick around this time.” Your skepticism is clear as you bring the joint back to your lips, watching his face fall with your pointed words.

“So this is where the cool kids hang out,” Hopper’s gruff voice cuts into the night, anchoring you back to reality. Eddie takes a step away from you, his hands tugging on the ends of his curls. Hopper’s eyes narrow on the joint between your fingers. “Really think it’s wise to smoke grass at a work function?” 

“I promise not to operate any heavy machinery,” you respond in a dry tone, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

The older man’s eyes shoot skyward before he holds out an expectant hand, “Give it here.”  

You hand it over, and the burning paper crackles as he takes a practiced drag, “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Sorry. Yeah,” you rub your forehead, “James Hopper, this is my…um, friend, Eddie Munson.” Eddie leans forward, reaching out to shake hands as you quickly explain, “Hopper’s my editor.” The steadiness in your voice doesn’t quite bridge the awkward moment. 

Eddie’s brows raise as Hopper’s hand closes over his in a crushing grip. “Hell of a grip,” Eddie comments with a question written across his face. 

“A handshake is a good measure of man,” Hopper offers him no other explanation, handing him back the smoking joint before turning to you. “I expect a write-up of the launch on my desk by 10:30 tomorrow for the digital edition. And don’t skimp on the details about the radio service. Downtown is keen on pushing this, so I hope you paid attention.”

“No problem, Hop. I’m on it,” you assure him.

“Now, I’m going home to Joyce. If she gets a whiff of this on me, I’m sending her your way.”

“You’ll be in the clear,” you promise with a soft grin. 

Hopper's stern demeanor gives way to something gentler. “Alright,” he says with a nod, “Enjoy your evening, kid.” His eyes dart to Eddie. “But not too much.”

“Jesus, that’s your editor?” Eddie asks once Hopper is out of sight. “The guy missed his calling, he would’ve made a great cop.”

Your laughter accompanies the dismissive shake of your head. “We better go back inside.”

The walk back is steeped in quiet, the night’s emotions a heavy weight that weaves threads of weariness and a dull ache through your limbs. Eddie appears less burdened, wearing an expression of contentment, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of his jacket still resting over your shoulders. The warmth of his palm seeps into the bare skin of your back while his thumb traces soothing circles along your spine. Carried in on a breeze, the earthy spice of late-blooming asters mingle with the vibrant colors of marigolds softened under the glowing canopy of string lights.

As you near the terrace, the murmur of voices grows, and the sparse groups of people along the pathway thicken to a full gathering. The shift from the lake’s tranquility to the party's bright lights and crescendo of conversations is jarring.  The solarium overflows with party-goers, their inhibitions loosened by drinks as they flood the dance floor, the music swelling louder and more insistent than before.  Despite the sea of people, it takes only moments for Steve’s gaze to lock onto yours across the room as you reenter with Eddie by your side. 

Without hesitation, he leaves the conversation he'd been having and moves toward you. The corners of your mouth lift in a greeting that isn’t returned. His forehead creases with a question. The air seems thicker as you slide the jacket off, returning it to Eddie, the tightness in your chest reappearing. Steve's jaw clenches as he reaches you, his arm circling your waist. “I’ll take my fiance back now, Munson.”

Eddie’s smirk sharpens as he hooks his jacket over one shoulder, “Just keeping an eye on her for you, buddy. Couldn’t leave the lady alone with all these musicians wandering around.” He leans closer, his free hand circling his mouth, “They tend to  get a little handsy.”

"Thanks, pal," Steve replies, the last word stretched tight as he stands taller. “I’ll take it from here.”

Eddie’s gaze drops to his feet momentarily before his head lifts. Amusement widens his grin, reflecting a confidence that borders on smug. His feet shuffle as he adjusts his posture to match Steve’s. A twist of nerves tightens your stomach as a spark that you know all too well brightens Eddie’s eyes like an echo of the cocky teenager he once was. 

“How about that dance you promised me, handsome?” you blurt, cutting Eddie off just as his mouth opens to respond. Stepping between them, you intertwine your fingers with Steve's and tug him toward the dance floor. As if on cue, the music mellows to a slower tempo. 

Steve’s stare remains on Eddie as his arms circle your waist. “You know, it’s funny, I never realized what a dick Eddie is.” 

Your head turns to see Eddie watching you with hands shoved in his pocket. “You barely spoke to him all night. What led you to that conclusion?”

Robin bops over to meet him, her blue eyes gleaming as she tugs at his arm, trying to coax him into a dance despite his shaking head. 

“I don’t know. The guy is just rubbing me the wrong way,” Steve doesn’t hide the irritation in his voice as he turns you so you’re facing away from them. 

A burst of protectiveness that has been dormant since high school wells up like a hot spring. The words escape before your better judgment can catch them. “Really. Are you sure it’s not because he’s my friend?” 

The mossy green rings of his eyes burn into yours for only a moment before he blows out a soft breath. “Let’s not fight.” His big hand slides down to rest low on your back as he pulls you closer. “I’ve been waiting to get you alone all night,” he says into your ear before his mouth covers yours hotly, leaving you whirling with his quick change. “Where have you been all night, Ace?”

One side of his mouth lifts in a half-smile, but his confident mask slips. Behind his eyes, he’s lost—the familiarity tugs at you. Rising on your toes, you press your lips to his. “I’m right here.” 

His expression softens, radiating a comforting warmth as his lips brush your temple. The rhythm of the song wraps around you both like a truce. Burying your cheek into Steve’s shoulder, your gaze follows Eddie as he turns his back and heads for the door. 

Steve leans closer to the bathroom mirror, his fingertips shiny with the pomade he's using to piece out the strands of his chestnut hair. 

“Don’t forget your glasses,” you remind him, turning away from the open doorway and entering your bedroom.  

“Or the tickets,” you toss out, noticing the white envelope on his night table.

“What would I do without you, Ace?” His voice floats from the bathroom, light and teasing.

Settling at the end of your bed, you pick up the novel you started recently, the book's weight familiar in your lap. Seeing Steve so relaxed and happy broadens your smile. He deserves this night out to blow off a little steam. City Beats' launch exceeded every expectation. A success that's finally turned the heads of the old guard at Second City toward the efforts of their youngest executive. Of course, memories are short, and victories are fleeting.

Steve's workload hasn't lessened, and the prospect of taking the platform national is still on the horizon, but you've set aside any misgivings, at least for now. It’s been a week since you surprised him with the Bulls tickets during his birthday dinner at Maple and Ash, Steve’s favorite, surrounded by your closest friends–with one empty chair at the table when Eddie hadn’t shown. 

“Sure you don’t want to come? I still have an extra ticket,” He asks, emerging through the pocket doors separating your bedroom from the closet. Securing his Jaeger-Lecoultre watch to his wrist, the scent of Dior Homme follows him.

You glance down at your cozy leggings and cream wrap sweater. “I’ve got big plans tonight, handsome.” You hold up the book against your chest. “Didn’t anyone from your pick-up game want the ticket? Or those guys you play racquetball with?”

“I didn't get a chance to ask until the last minute,” he explains. “Robin called my office about fifty times to harass me about inviting Eddie to the game. It took me all week to get the guy on the phone, and  then he turned me down flat.” He shakes his head, walking over to his nightstand to retrieve the tickets. 

“I don't think Eddie is much of a sports guy,” you muse, glancing down at your fingers, folding and unfolding a dog-eared page. “He used to say he didn't have time for throwing balls into laundry baskets. He’d go on and on about the unfairness of high school politics.” A quiet laugh escapes your mouth along with the memory. “He could be so dramatic back then.”

When you lift your eyes, Steve's standing frozen in place, the deep line between his brows wiping away his easy demeanor. He's looking at you like he's just found an uninvited stranger in his bed. It’s just a flash before he recovers, his features returning to the affectionate expression he usually carries for you, but it was enough. The parts of yourself you keep hidden loom like an iceberg–he’s just spotted the tip. You draw your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Yeah?” He pauses, the air between you thickening as a hint of challenge colors his voice. “That’s a little weird considering he got us seats at a Lakers game last time I was in LA.”

The silence stretches just a moment longer. “Guess he’s not the same guy you knew back in Hawkins. But then again, none of us are, right?” He lets the question hover, knowing an answer isn’t coming.  “People change,” he shrugs, his gaze intense and probing. “Or maybe we just never really knew them at all.”

He steps closer and leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth in a kiss that punctuates the conversation. His tone, sharp and heavy like a dull knife, cuts deep as he turns to leave. “Enjoy your book.” 

“Wait.” You slip off the bed, bridging the gap between you. Your fingers tangle in the material of his shirt, drawing him closer until your lips meet his, adding pressure until his arms circle your waist and he kisses you back. His embrace grows warmer as your tongue slides into his mouth, grazing his before pulling back, making him chase you, and he does. You break away but keep him close, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath a warm whisper as his nose runs along your cheek. “Have fun, okay?” you murmur against his lips as his hands slide up and down your back. “Knock back a few. Yell at the Ref. Get Jonathan drunk enough to annoy Nancy.” 

He chuckles, a smile lifting his cheeks. “You got it, Ace.” His eyes close as his lips find yours again. “I love you.” 

"I love you too, Steve," you whisper, your fingers uncurling from his shirt as you let him go. He takes your hand as you follow him downstairs. He opens the front door to a car waiting at the curb, the driver hoping out to open the backdoor. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” He smiles, picking up his keys from the small table.

The cold air rushes in from outside, and you pull your sweater tighter around your neck. Watching him step through the door, you call out, “Happy Birthday, handsome.”

As you close the door, Steve pauses on the landing with a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know, now that I think about it, Eddie didn’t stop yapping that entire game. Maybe you’re right after all. The guy just doesn’t like sports.”

You give a noncommittal shrug, your fingers tightening around the edge of the door. "What did you talk about?"

“Can’t remember,” he shakes his head, resuming his descent down the steps. You watch for a moment longer before closing the door and latching the deadbolt.

With a sigh, you turn back to the now quiet house. The soft pad of your fluffy socks muffles your footsteps as you drift through the rooms, dimming the overhead lights to let the warmer glow of lamps bathe the space in a comforting light. You head to the kitchen, grabbing the remote from the counter. At the press of a button, the scratch of a guitar and a gravelly voice fill the silence, as comforting as an old friend.

You mouth the lyrics as you reach for a wine glass from the cupboard. With a practiced motion, you uncork a bottle of red, filling your glass halfway, only to keep going until it's right to the brim. The song shifts as you leave the kitchen, glass in hand, taking a sip, the rich flavors of dark fruit and spice mingling perfectly, soothingly. Sinking into the couch, you tip your head back against the cushion, letting the music and the stillness envelop you. Your eyes close, the lyrics weaving a soothing spell, chasing dark thoughts away. 

The peace is predictably short-lived. A buzz jolts you. The phone tucked into your leggings vibrates with an incoming call. You try to ignore it, letting it ring to voicemail, but it buzzes again—this time a text. With a resigned huff, you pull it out and unlock the screen with a click.

Missed Call – Eddie

Eddie: Your neighbors don’t complain when you play music that loud?

You blink down at the screen and then lift your gaze to the room's dark corners.

Eddie: Don’t get freaked out. Just come to the door. 

Pushing off the couch, you pad through the house to the front door and open it to the chilly November night. A brisk gust of wind blows down your street, swirling dried red and orange leaves around Eddie's black leather boots, where he stands at the base of your steps, bathed in the soft glow of the sconces flanking your door.

His hands are shoved into the pockets of dark-fitted jeans, a cozy half-zip sweater in deep charcoal hugging his broad chest. He looks up at you from under his long lashes, head slightly cocked to the side. “I tried the bell.” His head turns to the street as a passing car splashes water up from the wet pavement. “What kind of sound system is that? I thought Chris was in there with you for a second.”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, your fingers gently rub the fabric of your sweater as you ignore the surrealness of Eddie casually referring to Chris Cornell by his first name. “What are you doing here? Steve's not home.”

“I know. I thought the guy would never leave. How long does it take him to do his hair, anyway?”

“It’s not funny, Eddie. You can’t come in.” You glance down the street to see your neighbor, leash in hand, appear in the circle of light cast by the streetlamp.

“I don’t want to come in, doll. We’re going out. And we're late, so if you could light a fire under it.” Eddie’s lips press into a hard line as your neighbor passes him on the sidewalk, giving him the once-over, the poodle pausing to sniff his legs.

“Evening, Mr. Davis," you acknowledge with a wave as the man continues down the street, shaking his head. You turn back to Eddie, frustration evident in your tone. "I can't go anywhere. I'm not even dressed.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, assessing your attire. “Those look like clothes to me.” 

Your head tilts to the side, your expression unwavering. 

He glances at the sky and lets out a frustrated sigh before his gaze returns to you. “You look beautiful, doll. Now, please. Just grab your coat,” he implores, his hands pressing together in front of him. “ I promise to have you back before you turn into a pumpkin.” 

Your eyes lower to where your toes are wiggling in your socks, “Eddie, I–”

“Well, I could always just hang out here,” he muses, scratching at the scruff on his chin. “Might get awkward when the game lets out.”

“You're not serious,” you challenge, skepticism evident in your tone.

“Oh, aren't I?” he asks, cocking a brow as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Friends hang out together, don’t they?”

“Fine,” you fume. “But I better be back in plenty of time.” You catch the way his smile broadens as you turn back into the house to slip on a pair of boots and grab an old woolen peacoat off the hook by the door. Stepping out onto the stone landing of your brownstone, you hesitate, shooting him another look of apprehension before turning to lock the door.

“Christ, woman, was that so difficult?” He throws his hands in the air as he crosses the street to a shiny black Audi Q7 parked at the curb. With a wave of his hand, he opens the passenger door, beckoning you to climb inside. 

The bare branches of the trees sway with the wind, casting moving shadows against the shining asphalt painted with the last of the fallen leaves. You walk across the road to where he’s waiting and step into the SUV. You sink into the plush seat, the smell of leather, smoke, and his cologne assaulting your senses. It's the same scent that seemed to linger for days after your last visit to CursedSound, the one your guilt tried to erase.

Your hands worry themselves in your lap, twisting the diamond on your fourth finger while you wait for him to round the vehicle. The agreement about keeping the lines drawn is fresh in your mind as he climbs into the driver's seat. 

Without warning, he leans over you, the warmth of his body invading your space, the pout of his full bottom lip hovering inches from yours. The sharp intake of your breath echoes loudly in the vehicle's quiet confines.

“Seatbelt,” he reminds you, his big brown eyes dancing with amusement as he drags the strap across your shoulder and clicks it into position at your hip. 

Heat rises up your neck, burning your cheeks as he settles himself in his seat, strapping in before pressing the button that starts the ignition. 

“Shit.” His face falls as he glares at the glowing numbers on his dash.  He turns the wheel, lurching the Audi onto the roadway. Your neighborhood disappears in a blur as he turns and heads north. “And I thought LA traffic was bad,” he mutters, weaving in and out of stagnant lanes. 

The congestion loosens as he turns onto Lakeshore Drive, heading uptown. The moon hangs low, presiding over the rippling waters of Lake Michigan that stretch out into the night. A vast, dark canvas that reflects the tapestry of light from the towering buildings across the roadway rises to pierce the skyline. 

Music from Eddie’s phone plays at a low volume through the stereo. It serves to fill the quiet between you, but there’s something in the clash of the electric guitar and smooth bass that's an itch in your brain. Familiar like a half-remembered dream, but somehow still new. 

Your eyes steal glances to your left. His profile fades in and out of shadow with the passing headlights. The sharp line of his jaw tightens with a clench when he’s forced to slow his speed. The baby softness he used to carry in high school has given way to solid angles and the perpetual growth of stubble. There’s no denying it– he’s only gotten more attractive.

His head turns suddenly, catching your stare. Your throat clears as you reach for the knob, turning up the volume and letting the song replace anything about to be said. His hand moves from the gear shift to his thigh, his elegant fingers flexing against his jeans. Your eyes stay fixed on the taillights ahead as the song moves into its final refrain.

"Wait." You reach out to punch the back button,  restarting the song. "This is you."

His eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth parting slightly. "How did you—"

"I’m right, aren’t I?" you interject, pointing at the dash, focusing on the distinct chord progression and the sound of fingers sliding over frets.

"Yeah, it's something I’ve been working on for a while,” he admits, looking at you with soft eyes. “Still trying to figure out a part that's missing." 

"I didn’t realize you still played," you comment, adjusting the volume again.

“I don’t know why you're surprised,” he says, reaching back to place his hand on your headrest as he smoothly backs the SUV into a space, turning the wheel to align with the curb. “I don't give up on the things I care about.” He shifts into park and turns off the ignition. “Come on.” His hand lands on your knee in a gentle squeeze. “We’re here.” 

Exiting the car, you step onto the empty side street. Ambient light filters down from the high windows of the brick buildings lining both sides of the street. A nondescript bus with blackened windows and a few other cars sit parked at the curb. This is exactly the kind of place you'd normally avoid after dark. Sighing, you round the car to where Eddie is waiting. His hand finds its way to the small of your back, guiding you across the street to a lone, unmarked steel door. With a closed fist, he raps out five quick knocks followed by two slower and turns to you with a grin. 

“What are we doing here?” you ask, shoving your hands into your coat pockets and looking up and down the street.

“I’m apologizing.” His words are cut off by the scraping sound of locks, followed by the door swinging open. Bright light spills out, casting a silhouette of a very large, bald man holding a clipboard, nearly obscuring the doorway.

“Can I help you?” booms the man’s voice, reverberating off the surrounding brick.

“I’m on the list,” Eddie says, undeterred.

“Name?” the doorman asks, retrieving a pen from behind his ear.

“Munson,” Eddie responds, glancing at the clipboard. “Edward and guest.”

The man sizes up Eddie with a thorough once-over, his gaze flickers towards you briefly before allowing you both to enter. 

Following Eddie, you step inside, the brightness of the overhead fluorescents bouncing off the cinder block walls, causing you to squint after the dimly lit street outside. Flight cases and amp stacks clutter the small vestibule of the venue's loading area. The muffled thrum of a bass line vibrates through the walls and high ceilings. 

“You’re cutting it close,” the man grunts, his staff shirt stamped with the Riviera Theater’s logo pulling tight across his chest as he hands Eddie two lanyards with plastic tags. 

The sweet sound of a cascade of delicate strings drifts through the air from down the hall opposite you, drawing your attention like a moth to a porch light. 

“Is that violins?” Turning toward the sound, tiny sparks ignite in your chest as Eddie slips the lanyard over your head.

“You know the way?” The doorman snaps his clipboard, ignoring your question.

“We’ll find it,” Eddie assures him, his fingers closing around your elbow as he tugs you toward the hallway.

The smile stretching your lips is automatic. Tingles of energy zip through your veins as anticipation builds, like being a kid at Christmas. As the stark fluorescents give way to dimmer bulbs, a murkier haze settles around you, mirroring the anticipation building in your chest. Their soft glow catches the shine of the dark curls resting on Eddie's collar as you trail after him down the maze of narrowing corridors.

Passing by closed doors and bulletin boards tacked with production notes and schedules, you step lightly to avoid the cords snaking across your path. The worn wooden floorboards creak with each step like they are responding to the growing clarity of the strings that now reach your ears, no longer muffled but rich and full.

The baseline of Dreams smooths into its final notes, and applause thunders from the audience. Eddie pauses, his hand resting lightly on your back, guiding you to a halt. You step between him and the canopy of curtains gathered at the stage’s edge, the sounds of the crowd's approval dissipating into the cavernous space. The polished instruments rest in the orchestra’s hands, poised for their next cue. Your hand flies to your mouth as the sight of The Cranberries at center stage fully registers. Dolores O’Riordan’s head turns, catching Eddie’s gaze. With an exasperated look, she taps the watch strapped to her wrist. He mouths a “Sorry,” his head tilting slightly towards you. At that moment, her brown eyes connect with yours. A hint of a smile graces her face before she turns back to the audience, her voice resonating in the stillness, "I was saving this one."

The first sigh of the violin expands with your breath, an arrow soaring through the air, piercing the center of your chest. A thrum of a calloused thumb brushing over the strings of an acoustic guitar accompanies the “Ahhs” of her lilting voice. The harmony is echoed by a cello, then a viola, and another violin, each repetition weaving into the next like a ripple of raindrops on calm water until it all fades into a hush, leaving your stomach swooping in its wake.

The silence shatters with the bold strum of the guitar. The air leaves your lungs in unison with the crashing bassline, the full swell of the strings washing over you like an ocean wave.

If you, if you could return

Don't let it burn

Don't let it fade

In the auditorium's darkness, the audience vanishes until only you and he exist. Eddie stands close, his warmth seeping into you as he presses into you with his shoulder. Clove and tobacco mix with the tang of iron and polished wood. The back of his hand grazes the soft skin of your own, but it’s the stage that holds your attention, pulling you in deeper. 

Is that the way we stand?

Were you lying all the time?

Was it just a game to you?

The accompanying musicians close their eyes, becoming extensions of their instruments. Dolores tilts her head, her voice clear and strong, pouring from her slight frame. The music rises through the aged floorboards, tremors of notes climbing your legs and bursting within your chest. Stirring emotions so immense it threatens to spill over as tears sting behind your eyes. 

Oh, I thought the world of you

I thought nothing could go wrong

Your head turns and you find Eddie has been watching you the entire time. His throat bobs as he swallows, the bright lights reflecting the shine in his eyes, and now it's you who can't look away. The soft expression he wears is tender and novel. The black lines that have always connected you pull taut, tugging at your heart. Lines that you thought were severed by anger and loneliness. 

But I was wrong, I was wrong

But somehow, they’ve remained. Tattered and a little frayed but enduring all the same. At his core, he is who he’s always been, and so are you.

Things wouldn't be so confused

And I wouldn't feel so used

But you always really knew

I just want to be with you

Two souls found each other in the darkness, singing the same song. He brought you here for a reason—he's telling you he's sorry without words, reaching for you through the melody in a way you can't ignore—in a way that matters.

And I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

Everything falls away, but the music and your shared heartbeats. Memories flicker, like pages of a faded scrapbook caught in the wind—sunlit and shadowed. The heavy musk of aged velvet curtains shifts into the fresh scent of cut grass and summer nights, the cool touch of lakewater, and the honeyed warmth of sunshine lingering on his skin. Hummed lyrics, shared laughter, the comfort of being by his side. You liked the version of yourself reflected in his eyes.

Recollections you locked away come back in a deluge. Past moments, both sweet and sharp, weave together, softening the edges of old wounds. Each verse, each look from him, peels back layers of hurt you’d clung to. The bitter shell around your heart begins to crack, dislodging the shards within. Lighter now, your wounds can start to mend. The remaining scars are reminders, but a warmth begins to unfurl in their place, reluctant and bewildering. It’s not forgiveness yet, but the possibility is closer for him and for yourself.

You got me wrapped around your finger

Notes spiral upwards, threading through the shadow-laden lattice of ropes and rigging until they dissipate into the darkness above. Under the glare of the stage lights, the harmonies that once defined you rekindle, sparking to life. Your fingers find his with intention, intertwining with deliberate grace, palm to palm, sliding, locked together. Warmth spreads through the both of you. It's unexpected the way lyrics unravel you, making room for something new. Your gaze leaves his, returning to the performance, but you lean into Eddie, your head tipping to rest on his shoulder. The breath releases from his chest in a shuddering sigh.  And he feels an awful lot like home. 

Do you have to let it linger?

Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?

Listen to the acoustic version of Linger here Rest in peace, Delores. Ni bheidh a leitheid ann aris.

Big, huge, giant, hugs and sloppy wet kisses for sticking with me. I know the wait was long. Your encouragement got me through it. Especially Leighanne and Taylor who had to put up with me whining.

All your song suggestions have made this fic so fun to write. Please keep 'em coming.

We are about halfway through, kittens. It's about to get bumpy.

For updates follow @tornupdates

[xiao-come-home]

Giggling, kicking my feet, spinning in circles over Boothill...

Just imagine, S/O in a creative field, and they've been preparing for an event where they get to show off their work..

Except, they've been doing it in secret because they don't feel confident and they're unsure if people would stop by for them..

So cue S/O's surprise when they suddenly bump into Boothill at said event—maybe even burst into (happy) tears if he praises their work.. I just know this man's the sweetest for his S/O ;;;-;;;

YUEESS anyway this got kinda long but take it 🫡

You knew the day was coming - the day so, so important in your career that could possibly shift everyone's opinion about you and your hard work. Day after day, more preparations were made, and people who assisted you kept patting your shoulder as you walked by, already congratulating you.

Yet, amongst all of the joy - your hesitation was certainly present. No one close to you knew about the event - not even the closest people, not even Boothill himself, who was your significant other. Even though so many already praised you - just what meaning does it hold if no one actually shows up to the event itself?

The lack of confidence and worrying were the only ones that bothered you to no end - which, Boothill noticed immediately as it was not your usual behavior. Not only were you constantly busy and away from home when he finally got back, but you were constantly stressed out. He tried not to pressure the matter as you were unwilling to talk, but that's Boothill we're talking about - which means - time for Boothill to snoop around and find out himself.

Today is the day. The day you anticipated so much, but also dreaded to finally have it happen. You hop onto the stage, and gasp at the amount of people below. You can't count the amount of eyes that gaze at you, and people seem to be genuinely impressed at your work - applauding loudly, causing you to tear up on stage.

That's a shame you haven't noticed the familiar cyborg who's been watching you the whole time, smiling widely to himself.

Once the official part is over and the festivities begin, people swarm around you to ask you more about your work or actual interviews, but you gently excuse yourself for now under the excuse of being tired. Surprisingly, the crowd goes away, but they'll surely be back...

You breathe in and out, shaking your head from all the attention, but suddenly, you bump hard against something and your hands automatically cover your poor nose; the pain makes you cry under your nose a tiny "oww," just what the hell is that pole here? Was there one before?!

"Ouch! 'm sorry sweetheart! Thought ya would finally notice me, but not that kinda way..." Boothill's voice reaches your ears and you open your eyes in the span of seconds, "I can't believe ya didn't tell me about all of this! A god dang event just for you, and those little motherfudgers that barely let me in, let alone get closer to ya—"

Boothill takes your hands off your face in his, pressing a soft kiss on your nose, "I didn't know my sweet pea was so smart," his voice gets softer and quieter, eyes gazing into yours, "I'm so proud of ya. I really wish you've told me about this, so we could be properly celebratin' this together."

You no longer could fight your tears and let them run down your cheeks, "I'm sorry, I didn't— I didn't think anyone would even show up," you sobbed, "I didn't even know if I could get through this if—" your sentence gets cut off by Boothill's fingers pushing your chin up and staring at you with ungodly amounts of love in his eyes.

"Silly you," he wiped off the tears with his hand, "of course they'd come. They did. So many people are here just for you, admirin' yer work and almost fightin' to say a word to ya. I know ya often doubt yourself, but, as you can see," Boothill looks behind you and see people fawning over your projects, "there's no need for it. You deserve all of this, sweetheart, even if I can't understand a single fudgin' word. You put yer entire heart into this - I see it, love."

Boothill's words only make you cry harder, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly - but this time, your tears are those of joy.

After calming down, you sit nearby with Boothill next to you. Sparing him a glance, you confusingly mention the new hat he's wearing, "Ha! Took ya long enough to see! It worked as intended - ya didn't know it was me back there, in the crowd!" He exclaimed proudly, sending you a smug grin.

[oval3000]

Chapter 6

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

-------------------------------------------------------

You felt your body heavy that you couldn't move when you wanted to. Your hands above your head, tied to the head board of the bed. Your eyes wanted to open, so you pried them, feeling a bit of a burn.

"Mmh...oww." you groaned, opening your eyes and saw what was in front of you. A tall man wearing a tight, black, t-shirt that shows his tone abs and muscles. Tan trousers that doesn't hide his bulge well enough, and a black cloth covering his face. But those blue eyes. Those blue eyes that you are familiar with. "K- König?"

He tilted his head, walking to the side of the bed, getting closer to you. He took off his mask, revealing his face to you. He sat down on the bed, making the bed sink down a bit. He hold your chin using his thump, "you're so beautiful." He got closer to you, his mouth near yours. "My beautiful bunny."

"Where am I?" You felt his lips over your cheek, on your forehead, over your nose, on your neck. How badly he wanted you. How hard he's pressing the palm of his hand to his cock, feeling it hardened. "König."

"You're home, liebling." He said kissing your neck while rubbing his hardened, clothed, cock with the palm of his hand. You can feel your wet spot of your neck, where his lips are, vibrate with his moans.

He got up and hopped on the bed with you. He grabbed your thighs and spread them apart. He positioned himself in between your legs, his throbing dick touching your clothed area. You didn't fight him. You didn't argue. You didn't scream. He lifted your chin up for you to make direct eye contact with him. "I'm afraid I have to stop, bunny." He got close to your face, "not now. I have to prepare you."

He got up and left to go to the bathroom. You quickly closed your legs to hide the fact on how wet he got you. You felt so weak on his touch.

König dropped his trousers and started to jerk off. He pumped his cock with his hand, gripping it tight. He wants to touch you, to be inside you. It didn't help that you were tied up the way you were, it turned him on even more.

He gripped onto the sink, closing his eyes shut. "A-..aaah..liebling....augh...liebling....mmgh...ngh....Scheiße!" He felt his balls getting heavy, bouncing on how hard he's fucking himself. How badly he wanted you to suck them dry. To take his full dick in your mouth. To watch your eyes rolling the back of your head as he cums deeply inside of you. He pumped his hand back and forth rapidly fast. Squeezing his hard, veiny, girthy cock,"(Y-y/n)...Ja!...aAaH!....." he felt the cum squirting out of the tip of his penis. He watched as cum covered all over the mirror of the medicine cabinet, the sink, the floors, his hand, dam even parts of the wall. How badly he wanted this. How badly he wanted to fuck you. To mark you.

Your his to touch and breed. To love and cherish. To sacrifice the world for you. He knows how much you take over his mind. He would kill a thousand men for you.

After he cleaned himself and the bathroom, he made his way over you. He adored how you aren't screaming at him, how he feared your reaction, thinking that you might put up a fight with him. "König?"

"Yes, darling." He took his shirt and pants and put on a pair of light sweat shorts.

"Are you going to kill me?" You looked at him. It was a stupid question and you know that. But the feeling on your chest, the nervousness, the fear. Is he getting revenge for him being locked up? Was he playing you this entire time, is he playing you until you gain his trust, just for him to drive a knife on your back.

He snapped his head towards, slaming the drawer shut. "Never. Ever! Say that again. I'll never hurt you." He cupped your face with his hand, "I love you, liebling." He pulled out his bowie knife, which made you flinch a bit, but all he did is to cut the rope off your hands and headboard. "Let's get some rest, love."

He positioned you to your side, facing away from him. You pulled your knees to your chest as König positioned himself the same way. He covered the both of you with the blanket, you felt his arm wrapped around your abdomen, pulling you closer to him.

Your body shivered all night. You couldn't tell if it was maybe the cold or because you are laying in bed with König. His warmth body, made you feel out of place. You never experienced this before. His strong grip. His affection. His attention towards you. You never had this before. He wants you. He loves you. He said that he loves you.

"I'm so sorry (Y/n). Your mom's liver isn't responding to any treatment and she doesn't have alot of time." The doctor told the girl, sitting on the doctors office.

"I thought UNOS was going to give my mom a new liver, isn't she on the transplant list?" The girl question as the doctor gave her a nod.

"Unfortunately, UNOS rejected your mother. Your mother has a drinking a problem. For UNOS, they don't accept patients who...harm themselves and possible have them damage the new organ when it can go to someone who-"

"Isn't an alcoholic. And I'm not a match, right?" The girl finishes the Doctor's sentence.

"I'm sorry, but you're right."

"What should I do?" The girl asked.

"Be by her side. Call anyone you need to call. I'm so sorry, (Y/n)."

What if there is no one?

"(Y/n), what are you doing here?" The sick mother said with her raspy voice.

"I wanted to visit you, mom." The girl gave her mother a smile.

"I don't need you here (Y/n)." The sick mother looked up at the ceiling of the hospital.

The girl's smile disappeared.

"Call your father. Tell him where I'm at." The mother closed her eyes, enduring the pain of swallowing the saliva.

"Mom, he doesn't want t-"

"Call him!" The mother followed up with tough, dry coughs.

The girl dialed her father's number. She hardly spoke to the father. He never really showed up to any of her events or any day at all. He mostly mails her letters and card, sometimes. When she does call, he hardly picks up. When she leaves a voice-mail, he will respond with a short text message.

"Dad? It's me..(Y/n). Um...I'm sorry for bothering you, I'm not sure if you might get this message. Uh...my mom is sick and she wants to see you. So...please get back to me when you get this. Ooh and uh we're in Saint Teresa's hospital if you might be wondering...um bye."

The girl waited for hours for the response. Her mother was question when the father will get here. "Where is he, (Y/n)?"

"I'm not sure, mom. I called him. He might be here. But I'm here and i-"

"(Y/n) I don't need you. I never did. And I don't want to see you as the last face I see when I die, so get your father here. Do something good for once. Do this for me."

The girl called her father multiple times. But as time went on and days passed, not a single response. The mother would look at the girl with disgust and hatred.

The mother grew weaker each day. She eventually felt her fall through. "(Y/n). I want you to know, because I don't want you to bother shedding a tear. I know I've never been a good mother to you, but the truth is. I never loved you. You tore me apart since the day I find out about you. Because of you, your father found me unattractive and slept with multiple women." She laughed with her weak voice as you stood there, on her side. " you caused me to feel this way, and now I'm paying for it. All thanks to you. You deserve a good mom, but you're not daughter, you never were. Get out of here. I don't want to see your face."

The doctors talked to the girl about the different programs for grief. The girl worked two jobs, while going to school so she can afford a funeral for her mother. She was the only one to attend. The only one to say goodbye to her. As they placed her six feet under, the girl finally received a message from her father saying 'I'm sorry'

She never went in contact with him ever again. She never received any mail from him. It was just her.

You woke up and didn't feel Köngs arm around you. You sat up on the bed looking around the room. A desk on your right, a chair on the right corner of the room. A dresser next to a closet on your left. Near the corner, entrance was closed shut. You wanted to get up, but heard the door knob jiggle making you froze on the spot.

König came into the room and saw they you woke up. "Schatz, you are awake. I made breakfast. C'mon let's go." He grabbed your hand and guided you to the kitchen. The home is beautiful. Very antique and vintage. He walked you to the kitchen table and opened up a sit to you. You saw the delicious breakfast he made you. He did this for you, you thought. Do you even deserve it?

He sat down in front of you and immediately digged in the plate of food. "I miss real food. Not that crap they give me in that prison hell." He said, chomping down the food.

"Konig? You stabbed the piece of sausage with your fork.

He looked at you, taking a sip of his water, "yes, schatz."

"How did you end up at the hospital? I know that you're ex- military, but how?" You questioned him with a squint of your eye, afraid you might've said something triggering to him

"No, love. Not ex-military. I'm still in. They didn't like my behavior with the enemies so they had me tested and the stupid doctor sended me there." He took another bite of his scramble egg.

"Dr. Smith?"

"No, another one. My original doctor left and that blonde bitch came in like she knows everything." His thick accent with a chuckle made your heart pound. You wouldn't have thought you would find it attractive. "But it's okay, she's gone now so there is nothing to worry about."

"So you're still in the military?" How if he murdered innocent people? You thought.

"Mm..sort of. I was only suppose to be there for two years and leave, but then you came along and changed everything." He followed your glance at him with his eyes, "and if your worried about the people I killed. I have good men that cover it from the public eye. Eat your breakfast, it's going to get cold."

There was a knock on the door. You still have no idea where you are. Who's house this is? Where are you?

König stood up, placing the napkin on the table, "stay here." He walked up to the door and opened. You tried to peak who it was, but couldn't due to the massive structure of König's back. "Okay, put him in the garage. Make sure to tie him up good." He shut the door and made your way towards you," he whispered to the man infront of him.

Still sitting on the chair, you looked up to him. "Who was that?"

König lowered his head with his thump on your lip, "no one, liebling. Eat your breakfast."

He turned his back on you, ready to head out. "Where am I? What is this place, König?"

"Just eat your breakfast, liebling." He left you in the kitchen.

He made his way to the garage. Horangi was standing there, stomping the stomach of Mr.Miller, who has duck tape on his mouth and hands and feet tied together on his back. Mr. Miller saw König coming out of the shadows. His tight black shirt and tan trousers, making it hard to picture him without the white wear of the hospital. As soon as he saw König's face, Miller let out a scream through the ducktape on his mouth.

"Thank you Horangi, but I can take it from here." Horangi gave him a nod and left the two men alone in the garage.

He crutch down to him with his legs spread apart, knees bent, forearms resting on his thighs, " Such an imbecile."

He was about to take off the ducktape when he heard your voice, "König?" He looked back and saw you standing there with a fright look, "What's going on? What are you doing?"

He stood up and marched over to you, "Go back inside okay."

You looked past König and saw Miller tied up. "Why is he here?"

"Schatz, go back inside." König pointed to the exit door.

You looked at him, "are you going to kill him?"

König pinched the bridge of his nose, "(y/n)! Do what I tell you! Go back inside!" You flinched at his harsh tone at you. He noticed and felt bad, "I'm sorry, schatz, but you have to listen to me, okay. I'll deal with him, go inside and eat your breakfast, it's probably already cold."

You shook your head, "are you going to kill him?" You fiddled with your fingers. You couldn't keep your mouth shut and do as he says, you thought. However, you needed to know.

"Scheiße! Tu, was ich dir sage, und ich werde dir nicht weh tun. Wie schwer ist das!? (do what I tell you and I won't hurt you, how hard is that!?)" he yelled at you. He never to yell at you. Quite frankly, he knows he's overreacting. "Yes, I'm going to kill him. He touched you. He touched something that is mine. Du bist mein!"

"I'm sorry König." You looked down on the floor. He rushes to you and cupped your face.

He lifted your face up for you to face him, "it's okay, liebling. You just have listen to me, okay."

"You'll never hurt me right? You said you'll never hurt me." You said, placing your hand on his.

He shook his head, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Go back inside, okay. I'll be in there in a minute."

You did as you said. You went back inside. You heard the door behind you lock. König didn't want you walking in on him breaking every one of Miller's bone.

König took his bowie knife out and cut the rope that tied his legs and arms together. He ripped off the ducktape that taped his mouth shut. König lifted Miller's left food up in the air. He placed his foot in the middle of his calf. "NO! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I'LL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! PLEASE!" his cries didn't stop König from stomping on the calf, hearing the bone crack. "AAAH! GOOD! FUCK!" König lifted his other leg while the men cried in pain, "I'm so sorry! Please! Please! Please! I'm sorry!"

Snap

The men let out a shriek of pain, feeling his legs completely shattered. Nothing stopped König to reach his arms and pulled them apart, breaking them from the shoulder point. The men on the floor, feeling the blood coming out of his body.

König then reached to his neck and gave it a final squeeze. Seeing the life of the men quickly going away.

You waited for König in the bedroom, you covered yourself with the blanket, staring at the door. At last, you heard his loud footsteps coming closer. He opened the door and closed it shut. "Schatz, you have to listen to me. You have to do what I tell you." He took off his black shirt, showing his perfect abs and chest. The scars on his body, making look raggedy. He took off his pants, leaving his boxers on. His tone thighs and legs that made his way towards you. "Don't make me punish you."

He yanked off your blanket which made you cover your body with your arms. He grabbed your legs, which were bent up to your chest for more protection, and pulled them down, pulling you closer to him. "Why don't I show you? My beautiful, beautiful, hase."

"Meins." He gripped onto the neck line of your white tank top. "Alles meins." He ripped your top apart, revealing your lacy bra.

"My beautiful hase. Mein wunderschöner Hase."

He would never hurt you.

Right?

[ellethespaceunicorn]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Well, it took me a couple of days but I did it!! Oh, and it's the longest drabble in the world. Did y'all know a drabble is only 100 words???? I thought it was 100-500...I still wrote way more than that, but still.

Title: No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Prompt: Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Warnings: age gap (Ari is mid-40s, Reader is early-20s), yandere Ari, drugging, non-con fingering (f receiving), non-con p-in-v intercourse, non-con creampie, choking, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: Hahahaha this was supposed to be a drabble. Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Moving out on your own isn’t exactly the easiest thing for you. You spent four years living in your college dormitory, but you always had at least one roommate. So, signing a lease and accepting the single set of keys was a huge accomplishment.

Your landlord, Mr. Levinson, is so great. He told you to call him Ari more than once. From the first tour of the apartment to the day of your move-in, he offers his help in many ways. Where the best farmer’s market is, how to reach him if you need any repairs, and even when the local bars close are just a few tidbits he leaves you with.

You get to know him a bit more during a block party one Saturday night. The two of you talk over cheap beer, tamales from Señora Cruz, smoked brisket from Mr. Lorenzo, and lasagna from Mrs. Di Paolo. Ari seems like he is lonely, and your kind heart can’t stand to see someone in need. 

Before you know what you are getting into, you agree to have a weekly tea date with him. It’s during one of those visits that you realize that something is a bit odd about Ari. He tries to cover up how he knows what cabinet you keep your tea in, but he makes up some dumb excuse that it would just be “the perfect spot”.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom as he busies himself with setting the tea, and when you come back, a steaming mug is waiting for you on a saucer on your coffee table. Usually, you make the tea, but Ari wanted to help out, and you had a long day at work, so you accepted.

“What is in this tea? It’s almost spicy,” you ask, taking another big gulp of the tea you don’t recognize.

“Is it spicy? Well, it does have ginger and cinnamon in it. Some chamomile, too. A little benzodiazepine in there,” Ari clambers on, trailing off at the end.

“D-did you say benzo…dia…zep,” you slur, reaching for Ari as you sit on the couch, but you end up passing out with your head in his lap.

When you come to, you struggle to remember what happened. Your heavy head pounds as you turn it to the side before putting the heel of your hand to your still-closed eyes.

“Take it slow, Bunny. You must’ve been really tired,” he consoles, from the other side of your bed.

“Mr. Levin-”

“Uhn uh. Call me Ari; no more of that Mr. Levinson polite shit, ok?” he swears for the first time in your presence.

“Um, Ari… What are you doing in my bedroom?” you ask, your mind a blank slate from earlier.

“Oh, Bunny. You invited me over for tea, and then you weren’t feeling well, and you asked me to stay until you felt better. Next thing I know, I’m carrying you in here because you fell asleep on me with that sweet little face of yours right in my lap,” he comforts, the knuckles of his hand sliding down your face before he boops your nose.

“Why do you keep calling me Bunny?” you mewl, still trying to get in control of all your limbs.

“When you sleep, you furrow your eyebrows and scrunch up your nose like a little bunny. It’s one of the cutest things you do,” he admires, his hand now moving down your neck and through the valley of your breasts to get to where your skirt rides up your thigh.

“Mr.-Ari…I think I feel better now; you don’t have to-” 

Your words are cut off when Ari reaches under your skirt, and you specifically remember having on panties earlier today, but his fingers are touching your tender pussy directly. Did he take off your underwear?

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Must’ve been all that time I spent rubbing your cute little cunt through those white cotton panties. God, those little moans you were making went straight to my cock, Bunny. Feel it,” he dares, grabbing your hand and resting it against the thick outline of his dick through his Wranglers. 

While your hand is on his length, he shoves two of his fingers into your wet heat. At first, you are surprised by the shock of it. But soon, you can tell that he knows how to work your body. You scream out his name, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he shoves one hand over your mouth and gets close to your ear.

“You’re not gonna ruin this for me. You have been parading yourself around here like you’re some holier-than-thou sweet little thing. And I knew you’d end up letting me smash at some point. But I didn’t wanna wait anymore, Bunny. You have had me wrapped around that little finger of yours since you moved in. It’s time that I get what’s owed to me-what you’ve been flaunting in front of me,” he sneers, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean before opening his pants and pulling his dick out.

He lines up with your sodden core before thrusting in with no grace or elegance. Slamming himself inside your tight snatch for the first time feels like he is splitting you in two. You’re no virgin, but you also don’t have much casual sex, so Ari’s thickness was a shock, to say the least.

“Sweet Bunny, you’re so tight. What a good girl! You’ve been waiting for me like I’ve been waiting for you, huh? Fuck, you’re like a fucking vice. You hear that, Bunny? Hear how that cunt loves it when I fuck it? Love that loud, sloshy pussy,” he beams, his wide hips between your legs making your joints hurt.

You’re in stunned silence as Ari uses your body to chase his release. Your mind is bringing up all the times it seemed like he was getting a little too close for comfort. All the times when he would talk to you about his divorce, or his current dating trend, or the fact that he once told you that a pretty thing like you belonged locked up in a tower for a prince to come and free you.

Did he think he was a charming prince?

“Oh, Bunny, fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Look at me; wanna see your eyes when I cum inside you,” he blurts, holding your face in his hands as you look into his dilated, hungry eyes. “Take it. Just. Like. That.” The last few words are punctuated with thrusts as he paints your walls with thick, milky ropes.

Once he closes his eyes, his hips remain still, and his forehead meets yours. This would be almost romantic if Ari didn’t make it beyond creepy by whispering how perfect you are and peppering kisses all over your face. His softening cock finally slips free from you, and you are happy to be empty until you feel the flow of his semen leaking from you. He notices your discomfort and mocks your whines as he pushes his jizz back into your swollen hole.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he starts, moving off of you to recline next to you, “Not gonna leave this bed ‘til you’re knocked up. As soon as you are, I’m gonna move you in with me. You are gonna be well taken care of, too. You are so perfect-every little thing about you. And when the baby comes, we are gonna be the perfect little family. You wouldn’t wanna ruin our family, right? You’re gonna be a good girl for me, huh?” he implores, holding your cheeks in his hand so your lips poke out a bit.

You nod while tears stream from your eyes, finding it hard to form words. But what would you have said? He seems to like you mostly silent; you haven’t uttered a single word since before he was inside you. It wasn’t too late to try, but it was too late to have hope; at least that’s what you told yourself.

“I don’t know about you, but I am starting to get hard again just looking at you. On all fours for me, Bunny. I know you got it in you,” he orders, no kindness in his voice.

You quickly scramble to get on your hands and knees for him and are happy that he is pleased with your speed. As he slides into your sensitive folds again, you grimace but hold in your noises of pain. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you hurt, even though what he is doing is traumatizing. He relishes in the gushy sounds your pairing makes and the mighty “oomph” you make when he wraps an arm around your neck and flattens you down to your belly.

He has you in a chokehold while his hips canter back and forth, plunging his length deeper and deeper inside you. When he hears you start to sputter and gulp in air, he removes his arm from around your neck and holds your face cheek-down on the bed.

“Look at her, taking my cock just like she should. You’ll be the prettiest little wife and mother, won’t you? Gonna keep you nice and round as much as I can. My perfect little Bunny…ugh, fuck,” he blurts, his release surprising him suddenly.

When he pulls out, he smacks your ass and lays down next to you while your life flashes before your eyes. He moves closer to you, readjusting your body to lay on top of his as he rubs your back. He kisses the top of your head in such a kind gesture that you feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

You can’t even bring yourself to fully cry, the tears streaming down your face just to splash on Ari’s denim shirt. Forgotten and dried up to never be seen again.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble!!!!

**Tag List**

I also didn't know who to tag since this is the first time I wrote Ari.

[beansprean]

Any guesses? 😈

My Familiar’s Ghost part 38

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up on Guillermo shyly looking down with a fond smile as he says 'Yeah, well... I pawned the watch Freddie gave me. But I still have your glitter portrait, so.' 1b. Reverse shot of Nandor looking down at him with wide, sparkling eyes, cheeks flushing as he clutches the walkman to his chest. Guillermo continues from offscreen: 'Thats the difference, I guess. Besides, there's no feelings I want to express to him except maybe a punch in the nose.' A single pink heart floats up by Nandor's face. 1c. Repeat. Nandor turns his head away with a secret little smile, shyly tucking hair behind his ear as he looks down again at the walkman. He says, 'Well, you have always been a very sentimental fellow...' 1d. Close up on Guillermo, still looking down but with widened eyes and a furrowed brow, as if coming to some realization. He murmurs, almost to himself, 'I have, haven't I?' Offscreen, Nandor continues, 'Of course, I am not one for such things, but-'

2a. Wide shot of both side by side. Guillermo startles and sits up straight, eyes wide, and interrupts Nandor with a loud 'Oh my God!!' Nandor cries 'Oww!!' and flinches violently beside him, accidentally crushing the walkman between his hands. 2b. Close up on Guillermo as he turns toward Nandor with a bright smile, ghostly light and wraith cloak blooming around him. He announces, 'I know where I went to die!' Offscreen, Nandor whines 'My walking man...' /end ID