#re: how long they'd been trying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carolmunson · 2 years ago

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is he rich like me? (wealthy!s.h. x thick!reader)

desc: hi, we've missed you here at slate insurance hq. i've been working on this WIP since i think october, having the initial idea back then and then going back and forth on it for a million years. anyway, i finally finished it. you and big money steve are finally both on the same page, so here's some porn with plot. big money steve is big money steve, and he loves to spoil his girl. especially before a big dinner deal closing with a new client. tw: 18+ minors dni. p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving), some daddy kink (it's steve c'mon) but he's pathetic, some breeding kink. casual dominance. big wealthy tings. recommended listening: time of the season - the zombies

"what's your name? who's your daddy? is he rich like me?"

Big boxes and gifts were nothing new anymore. Selfishly, they'd become expected whenever you walked in the door from work. Though, if it were totally up to Steve, you would have quit your job the moment the last box of your things came past the threshold of his Tribeca apartment in January. But having at least some semblence of your old life was important to you -- and Robin would lose her mind if she didn't have you to share an office with anymore. Steve on the otherhand, was adamant that once the first baby was on the way, you'd put your career behind you. Presumptiuous of course, considering you weren't even engaged. Tonight was a dinner -- not for the both of you, but for business. Sales pitches, deal closings, re-enrollment. He'd never take you a steakhouse for a date, he'd rather die. But, always a steakhouse for business, 'It's just more -- I don't know how to explain it baby -- money talk, red meat, stuff like that. I know you hate it, I'm sorry, but it just looks good when I bring my girl with me.' He'd make it up to you every time with a new dress, a new pair of shoes, his lips on your neck, your knees to your chest. This dinner was no different, coming in from a nail appointment and a pedicure out to see an array of boxes laid out on your side of the bed. Your main component, which you were expected to wear to dinner tonight, was a black silk dress. "It looks small, Steve," you mumble, holding it up by the skinny straps. Sometimes your wonder if he forgets how full your hips are, how things that look chic on Kate Moss can sometimes look suggestive on you. Not that he minded, he was always very suggestive whenever you dressed up.

"It got it tailored to your measurements, so it shouldn't be," he explains while tying his tie in the mirror, "Just put it on, baby. The car's gonna be here soon."

You huff a little, turning on your heels to his walk in closet -- it might as well be a second bedroom with how big it was. You laid the dress down on the center island where he keeps all of his ties and watches in specially made drawers. You eyed the dress for a moment -- it really was beautiful. Black as night with a high slit on the right side -- of course he made sure it showed some leg so he could run his fingers along the hem under the table.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror in the long line black bustier he bought you. Breasts lifted and high, nearly spilling out of the cups. You'd never seen something without straps have so much support. But then again, you'd never had a bra be custom made either. The matching satin panties sat high on your waist, cut high enough that you'd never see the lines under the silk dress.

Moment of truth, I guess, you think, taking the dress and stepping into it. You waited for the resistance when you pulled it up over your hips but it never came. You waited for the uncomfortable pull of trying to get the skinny straps over your arms and shoulders, but it didn't happen. The dress slid on like butter, like it was made for you.

Oh yeah, duh, it was made for you.

"Can you help me with the zipper, honey?" you call out. Steve still loses his breath when you call him a pet name. So overwhelmed that you want him, that you call him baby and handsome and honey. Honey, honey, honey. Maybe someday husband. Maybe.

He steps into the room with purpose, stopping short when he sees you in the dress.

"Oh, wow," he gasps, "Wow, wow, wow."

"Stop," you bloom heat when he eyes you, "C'mon help me, we gotta go soon."

He steps behind you and you can smell the cedar and sandalwood in his cologne -- having long traded his Aqua di Gio for Creed's 1992 Bois du Portugal. His fingers are warm when he trails his middle and pointer up the skin of your back where the zipper opens, just to watch you shiver. He hooks the closure at the top carefully before pulling the tab at the bottom to slowly close the dress up. At the finish, everything is pulled into place. It was perfect. Dipping and flouncing exactly where you wanted it too, every curve perfectly showcased.

“Do you know where my clutch is?” you ask him in the mirror while his fingers trace your shoulders.

“It’s on the island in the kitchen,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss over the strap of the dress, “But I have another surprise for you.”

“Another?” you ask, eyes wide. He already bought you the dress, the shoes, the lingerie. What else was left?

"Close your eyes." You do, you hear him open one of the drawers and can feel him behind you when something cold hits your chest. He fastens it at the back of you -- you know it's a necklace but it must be nice if he's having you close your eyes.

"Keep 'em closed, baby."

You hear him come around to the front of you, adjusting the necklace, feeling his breath againt your ear. His fingers trail from your shoulder, down your arm to lift your left hand up, "Stay like that." Your heart hammers, but quickly fades out when you feel him put on a bracelet. His delicate touches quicken your pulse, his scent makes your mouth water. Steve had a way of making everything romantic -- getting coffee, going to the grocery store, taking out the trash, putting jewelry on you. Jewelry he bought. Jewelry you know you'll love.

"And lastly..." he continues, while putting your hand down. His nose brushes your cheek when his nimble fingers click a pair of earrings into place -- they're heavy and cold. "Harrington," you sigh, squirming at the pinch of the back going too far into your lobes, "I can put these on myself." "Don't be such a baby, Manhattan," he tsks, smoothing your hair away from your ears before standing back and looking at you. He smiles big at the sight, you simply adorned in his gifts. Steve doesn't know whether to cry or kiss you when he feels his heart leap in his chest. It happens all the time when he stares too long at you, no matter what you're doing. You're his. "Can I open them?" "You can open them," he encourages. When your eyes flutter open and adjust to the light, you see them in the mirror. A platinum set tennis necklace sat across your chest, a matching bracelet on your wrist. Earrings in your ears to complete the collection. You gape at your reflection, mouth hanging open while you try to wrap your head around it -- about how much money you're wearing right now.

"Steven -- they're beautiful..." you gasp out. He stands behind you in the mirror again, grinning at your reaction.

"Sorry there's no ring," he pouts before kissing your cheek, "Not yet, at least."

It was an every other day mention -- the ring. You'd only been officially together for half a year, but Steve knew what he wanted. It felt like you both had been together for six years anyway. You knew the ins and outs of each other, literally and figuratively -- there couldn't be anyone else quite like him. It helt like you both had PHDs in each other's likes and dislikes, needs and wants, goals and dreams.

"Don't worry," you breathe, still not over the sparkle on the rest of your limbs, "This is...this is plenty, babe." He burns in his cheeks -- babe. He's your babe! He presses a kiss to your cheek, settling by your ear to mumble a heady 'I love you,' from the deep base of his chest. His lower lip coasts your earlobe and your eyes roll back in your head, feeling his warm breath fan over your jaw. "I love you so much," he murmurs, hand gripping your waist, you can feel his grin against your skin, "But I need you to hurry the fuck up or we're gonna be late, angel." "You're so annoying," you glower when his sensual demeanor turns into a mean snicker, tapping your ass to get you to move out into the kitchen.

It took every ounce of will power in his body to not cover you in hickeys in the car. He had to give it to himself, he knew how to dress you for stuff like this, and God did your body alway deliver. He had to keep looking out the window so he didn't catch a glimpse of your crossed legs in the rear view mirror of the Bentley. It didn't help that you smelled like heaven, dirving him crazy with every movement, sending Mulger's Angel through his olfactory straight to his boy brain.

He helped you out of the car and waked you arm in arm to the door of the restaurant, always sure to be there at least 15 minutes before his guests. You got accustomed to the song and dance: exchange pleasantries, only ask the wife of whoever he's with direct questions, feign some form of old school obedience, let Steve do all the talking and so help you God if you roll your eyes once he has no problem letting you pay for when you get home. Always in good fun, of course.

Tonight is no different, you look over the menu, sharing sweet moments with each other before his guest arrives. Guessing the status of every couple there, what they're talking about, how long they've been together. A few celebrities come in laying low and you never get excited but Steve always does, still deep down a sweet boy from Indiana. "I think I'm gonna do the salmon," I say with a sigh, "I know that's boring."

"Not boring, honey," he shakes his head, taking off his glasses to clean them off before settling the silver frames back on, "The salmon's really good here." "You're really good here," you tease. "Yeah?" his brow quirks, a smile pulling at his lips, "I heard you're really good here." "Actually, you're really good here," you start to giggle. "Surprised to hear you say that because it was reported in the Culiniary section of the New York Times that you're actually really good here," he laughs, but you're both cut short when you see the m'aitre d guiding your guests to the table. You keep giggling, sitting up straight and crossing your legs under the table cloth so that your thigh peaked out of the slit of the dress. "No more fun, Harrington," you say faux seriously, "No laughing, we have to be boring now." "So boring," he agrees in a fake whisper, but his demeanor changes on a dime when his guest and his wife arrive. Steve stands immediately, hand out for a firm shake.

"Mr. Parker, good to see you tonight," he flashes an award winning smile, the kind that make older men wish he was their son and older women wish he was their husband, "Mrs. Parker, you look stunning. He let's you leave the house looking this good?"

Only Steve can make a joke like that and have it be charming. He pulls the fake string in your back and you start your performance as Business Dinner Barbie as soon as everyone sits down. When the sommelier arrives Steve orders a bottle of white and red for the table and when the waitress arrives he gets himself and Mr. Parker their second highest priced scotch. 'Just because it's the most expensive doesn't mean it's good, they just wanna get the suckers to buy it.' You could mouth the words as he says them at this point, the same schpiel every time.

"And would you like to put your entree orders in as well?" the waitress asks. Mr. Parker orders the steak dinner, rare, which doesn't surprise you because he sort of looks like someone who gets joy out of consuming blood. Mrs. Parker orders the salad because of course she does, she's never eaten a starch in her life, or at least not in the past forty years. Steve places his dinner order, always filet mignon medium rare with a side salad. Steve takes your menu from you to pass to the waitress when her attention turns to you for your order. You open your mouth to speak but Steve's hand finds yours with a light squeeze, keeping eye contact with the waitress. "She'll have the glazed salmon, medium. And I hate to bother the chef but can we pass the broccoli rabe on for asparagus?" he asks, eyes dropping from the waitress to yours as she answers 'Absolutely, Mr. Harrington'. You swallow when his gaze lingers on you, a smirk flicking on the ends of his lips, a moment only shared by the two of you.

"Thank you so much," he replies, still looking at you, "She just doesn't really care for it." He smiles back up at the waitress as he finishes his sentence, pulse quickening when he sees you adjust slightly in your seat. You liked that, and he likes that you liked that. He continues the conversation with a winning smile, pretending like he doesn't know you're melting next to him. Staring at him in his suit acting like you care what he's talking about, like you're not watching the way the leather band of his watch hugs his wrist, how he gesticulates when he talks, his long fingers and big veined hands emphasizing his words. The way his brow furrows when he listens, the slight tensing of his jaw while he thinks of what to say next. While Mr. Parker discusses the potential pitfalls of partnering with Slate Insurance, you feel one of Steve's big hands under the table, resting on your knee. His thumb traces circles on your joint for a minute, you figure it's a comfort touch, something to ground him while he considers his next move. You learn quickly that it's not that at all. He lets a finger trace slowly and softly up over your knee and half way up your inner thigh before grabbing it, slowly and intentionally massaging the fat there, slipping his fingers under the black silk. Your back straightens in your chair, trying to keep your cool while he continues -- soft grazes with his finger tips, back and forth, inching further up as he goes. You grab his hand tightly under the thick white table cloth, catching his lips curl at the edges while he speaks -- no one else would be wise to it. You curse him silently at his ability to always play it cool.

"Have some water, honey," he says sweetly, taking his hand from your grasp and pushing your glass toward you, "You're looking a little flushed." You swallow, your smile a little tight while you take a sip and he watches. A battle between the two of you that you know you've already lost. The cool water passes your lips and you're nearly reinvigorated to try your hand but he comes in with a final strike -- a death blow -- "Atta girl," Steve grins. You've never wanted to pull him out of a restaurant by his collar more than you do right now. Just like always, dinner is a success. Steve always closes the deal before the second scotch so that the cool down conversation can feel more friendly. 'You want the client to feel like they made a friend when they leave so that they trust you. That's business, angel.' He'd say. You say your goodbyes and tell Mrs. Parker you'd be happy to join her book club -- you're unsure how many book clubs you've 'joined' at this point, how many invites got 'lost in the mail'. "Very darling woman you've got there, Steven," Mr. Parker says as he and Steve shake hands, the final seal.

"Isn't she?" he asks, giving you a quick once over. Your blood rushes in your ears at his look, the rest of their conversation muffled by an infuriating need for him. As Mr. Parker and his wife leave, he cleans off his glasses while you both wait for his credit card back for the bill.

"Beautiful job tonight, honey," he smiles, putting his frames back on.

"Do not speak to me," you say with a smile, heat pooling through you while a soft pink appears on his cheeks. "Don't worry," he shakes his head, getting his card back and signing off on the receipt. He helps you out of your chair like a gentlemen, passing you your purse as a means to press a kiss to your cheek, "We won't be doing any talking when we get home."

By the time you get home to the Tribeca apartment, all of your lipstick has been worn off. You're lucky if Vinny doesn't quit being Steve's driver after all of that. "Sorry," he says to Vin while you get out of the Bentley, "Won't happen again, I'm so sorry."

You try not to count how many hundreds Steve flips through when he goes into his wallet, you try not to see how many he slips his driver in embarrassment. Sometimes it still made your chest tight. "You say that every Friday night," Vinny laughs, taking the money, "And every Saturday I gotta get the interior detailed. Goodnight, Mr. Harrington."

The air is a little humid when you get out of the car, sticking to your skin slightly -- the soft rush of the river calms you in the quiet of the night, and there he is, in the glow of the lights outside of your building. He doesn't say anything when he approaches you, just pulls you in for another air stealing kiss. Steve's big hand pushing you in at the nape of your neck to give him better access to you. You frown when he breaks away, a small one, a gentle tug on your eye brows an lips. His hand drops to yours, taking you inside, greeting the doorman and front desk concierge by name as he does every morning and night.

The brightness of the lobby is a harsh contrast to the low light outside and the burst of air conditioning makes your nipples peak in your bra. Goosebumps trail up your arms, but you aren't sure if it's the blast of cold air or the way Steve impatiently waits for the elevator to get you both upstairs. The door barely closes when he's on you, shoving you against the wall of the front walk way. "How dare you," he murmurs, lips peppering kisses from your lips to your jaw, tongue licking hot at your neck, "Look this fucking good all night." "It's kind of your fault," you laugh, panting slightly while his teeth graze over a sensitive spot by your collar bone. You kick off your heels, leaving $2600 on the floor of Steve's apartment.

"Mostly yours," he grunts, pulling you over to the living room after taking off his own shoes. He opens the big vertical blinds so that the city glitters into the penthouse apartment. Steve wastes no time however, getting behind you the same way he did earlier, fingers nimbling unzipping your dress. You both watch it fall to the floor in a delicate puddle, black water silk at your feet.

Now there was $6600 on the floor. Steve takes a second to admire you in your skivvies, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth. He surveys you like a work of art, like a statue carved just for him. You shudder while he circles you, feeling the heat of his ambers eyes burning with need on your skin. He chuckles when he notices you get a flustered, settling down on the couch. He motions for you to you come forward and while you are never one to listen, you make your way over to him without question.

"You like when I spoil you?" he asks huskily, pulling you down to straddle his lap. One arm wraps tight around your waist while the other wraps delicately in your hair. Your stomach presses against him while your breasts heave in his face. He pulls your head down to kiss you, hungry and powerful, while his hips press up to grind against your satin covered cunt.

"Mhm," you whimper into his mouth. His hands reach behind you to the hooks and ties at the back of your bustier. Steve's fingers never met a bra that they couldn't take off in an impressive flick of the wrist.

"Let's get all this off you," he mumbles breathily before sliding his lips from your mouth to your neck. The bustier falls forward slightly before he gets impatient, pulling the straps down your arms before discarding it on the ground. You reach for the necklace but he stops you, reaching back up to capture you in a hungry kiss. "Keep the jewelry on," he says, ambers eyes meeting yours. He's stern in his request and you nod obediently, hands lowering down to meet his chest.

Now there was $8,000 on the floor.

His hands find your breasts and he lets out a rugged groan, massaging them with his hands while he presses kisses down onto the soft skin.

"You can't come with me to dinner looking like this anymore," he murmurs between kisses, "Barely closed that deal. Too busy staring at these tits."

"Steve," you gasp out, giggling, "You closed it just fine."

"Mmm," he nods, mouth occupied by taking a nipple between his lips. You can feel the flutter of his tongue over it while he looks up at you, eye shining wickedly. Your whine just encourages him to keep going. Your hips press down against him, reminding him what you want more than his mouth, than his hands. He pops his lips off of you, the sound echoing in the open living room.

“Is there something you want?” he asks sweetly, leaning back on cushions of the couch. You nod, rocking your hips over his hard cock in his pants, letting out a soft tiny moan at each bit of friction.

“You're so spoiled angel,” he teases, thumbs brushing over your nipples before rolling them between his fingers, making you whine. His voice still dripping in depth and heat, “I think you should work for it.”

“I thought the whole point of this was so that I didn't have to work anymore," you tease back, leaning forward to kiss him. He hums into your mouth and you can feel him smirk into the kiss. Bastard, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” he considers, palm skating over your thigh, “You do make a good counter point."

“I think giving into my demands is a good return on investment,” you assure, hips rolling against him in a way that makes his thighs tense up, "Imagine the long term benefits?"

He groans when you parrot him, getting harder at the thought of you genuinely listening to his business speak when you do these dinners. He squeezes the fat of your hips, tongue gliding over his kiss bitten lower lip while you take off his tie and start to unbutton his shirt. “Take these off,” he says, looking up at you while his finger traces your panty line. You heat up when he says it, a smug smile blooming on your face. His actions only confirming that he’ll always give in, “If you ask for want you want, I'll consider it."

“Oh, you'll pass that on to your team? I'd love to be considered,” you ask with a laugh, but he's done joking around, a tap to your thigh reminds you that he asked you to undress. You stand up off of him, your feet meeting the cold hardwood, your panties sliding down your smooth legs.

Now there was $8250 on the floor.

He undoes his belt while you stand in front of him, eyes glued to yours while he does it. You swallow when he winks, thighs pressing together — you know he notices. Steve shimmies his pants down slightly, enough that he can keep his legs spread wide while pulling out his length. It's clear that he's painfully hard, a guttural groan escaping him while his hand offers him some minor relief, “Is this what you want?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t you suck on it first and I’ll tell you when you can ride it," he smirks, and without thinking, you start getting to your knees. He stops you before you can make it to the floor, putting a throw pillow beneath you to protect you from the hardwood. Steve can't help but kiss you softly once you make it to your knees, he was never any good at being mean and forceful with you. You'd been right the whole time, he couldn't boss you around -- at least not for too long.

You unbutton the rest of his dress shirt that will now need to be dry cleaned and repressed. You let a hand trail down his chest, gliding through the hair there while pressing wet hot kisses down to his pelvis. Pulling some of the skin between your teeth to leave red and purple bruises behind.

“That’s it, baby,” his breath blends with his words as he adjusts on the couch, leaning back so you have more access to him. You kiss close to the base, tongue trailing over the crease of his thigh, breath ghosting over his shaft while your mouth stays occupied with his heavy sac. You feel him lean back, relaxing while you work him up, his hands coming behind his head, arms bending at the elbows. "Just like that, honey," Steve purrs, "Just like that."

Your hand reaches up to stroke him, slow and deliberate, mouth getting wetter while you leave sloppy kisses at the base and on his pelvis. Your thumb glides over the shining bead of pre-cum pooling out of the tip, teasing over the seam just under it. Your tongue finally glides up to the tip expertly, letting your lower lip catch on the head -- his eyes meet yours behind his glasses, burning with need. It feels cruel to keep him waiting when he looks at you like that, so you don't wait. While keeping eye contact you adjust, taking him all the way to the back of your throat without so much as a wince.

“Oh fuck, good girl,” he gasps into a growl, hand reactively entwining in your hair, “That’s daddy’s girl.”

You groan into the praise, sucking diligently on his cock, thighs pressing tight together. Your back arches into a posture he can only recognize as needy, making him grin while he runs his free hand through his own hair.

“Learned to like that, huh? Whose your daddy, angel?” You smirk up at him in response, tongue gliding from the base to the tip again, taking half of his shaft in your mouth before taking it out with a low laugh, "You are, honey."

His eyes roll back, hips canting up towards your mouth while his grip in your hair tightens. You press him by the thighs back down onto the couch eyeing him while he whimpers when your tongue traces the curve of his cock again. Always on top even on your knees. "Fuck, don't stop," he breathes out. He lets go of your hair, arm reaching behind him to clutch the back of the couch. His hips roll up again, disrupting your rhythm slightly. You taste the salt of him on your tongue while you continue, a soft giggle erupting from your throat, sending shockwaves through him.

"Having fun, honey?" he asks, pulling himself away from you slightly. You sit back on your heels and smile, nodding. He leans forward, blessing you with kisses, deep and slow, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

"I'm on top, right?" you ask. He smirks, watching the jewelry glitter on you in the low light. "Not a chance," he giggles darkly, "Not tonight. Really wanna show you how bad I want you tonight."

"Oh, just tonight?" you ask smartly, getting up from your knees to head to the bedroom.

"Every night," he says with a roll of the eyes, getting up and tossing his dress shirt and tie on the couch. He watches you as you walk slowly to the bedroom, eyeing your smooth skin, the way your hips and waist twist when you walk. He knows you're walking like this on purpose, but he'll never complain. You fall back on the sheets you've been sleeping in for six months and he watches your breasts and thighs and tummy jiggle when you land. Steve grins, sliding off his slacks, socks, and boxer briefs before stepping between your legs, standing over you while you lay on the bed. "Hi," you say, a genuine smile pulling at your mouth when you look up at him. A stripe of amber light from outside pools into the room from between the billowing white curtains, coating you both in a dreamy haze.

"Hi, baby," he says back, his hands reaching down to slide from just under your breasts to your waist, "So beautiful," he whispers to himself.

"Move up a little for me," he instructs, his voice sweet and deep. You scooch up the bed, settling between the mountain of pillows leaning against the short head board while he settles between your legs again. He watches you and the way your body manipulates when he reaches down behind your thighs, pressing the tops of them to your chest. He leans forward, pressing his own chest against what can be felt of yours. Your knees are at your decolletage when he leans in closer to give you another deep kiss before leaning back again, quickly tossing his glasses on the bedside table.

You both stay quiet while he strokes himself a few times, smirking down at your glistening core while he lines himself up to push in. You aren't sure why, but every time he does, it feels like the first time.

"Oh my God," you whine while he pushes in slow, "Stevie." "I know, angel," he nods, gliding in all the way to the hilt. He grunts when he feels you grip him tight, trying to pull out slightly only to get sucked back in. He grips the back of your thighs for leverage, pulling back half way and pressing in, feeling you get wetter around him while he picks up a rhythm.

"Shiii-Steve, that's so deep," you whine. It only encourages him to push in deeper.

"Gotta practice, honey," he grins, starting to pant while he looms over you, letting go of your legs to get close to you again, "Need it to stick when we do it for real."

You pulse over him when he says it, back trying to arch despite your position beneath him.

"You like when I talk like that?" he whispers, his voice sliding back to gravely in your ear, "When I tell you how bad I wanna cum inside you?"

"Mhm," you whimper, nodding against his searing kiss, working himself up the more he thinks about it. "Get you all fuckin' full with me?" he growls, "Keep you nice and pregnant the second I get that ring on your finger?" You burn with lust while he babbles on, wrapping your legs around his waist while his thrusts get rough and desperate. Your body shakes and quivers while his hips slam against you, filthy wet squelches filling the high ceilings of the room. Mixing with a symphony of both of your sighs and moans, the smell of your sweat mixing with his cologne. Slam, slam, slam, slam, slam. The headboard beating the wall between the windows with a thud over and over again. "I fucking love you," he grits out. "I love you, too," you whine, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Heat licks at your lower belly, building while the slight curve of his cock makes the head brush over your g-spot in rapid succession, "Baby, I'm..." "Yeah?" he asks with a knowing smile, "So close for me, hm?" He sits back on his calves, still able to thrust while he looks down at you. His thumb presses against your lips, asking for entry. You let him in, making sure to get it extra slick with your spit before he takes it out, reaching down to slide it in circles over your clit. "How's that, angel?" he asks, thrusts not showing a hint of slowing down, "Does that feel good?"

Your thighs shake, eyes pricking with tears, shining while they look up at him. Well he's pleased with himself, you think, making a mental note to throw him on his back tomorrow and ride him into next week until he's a babbling mess. "It does, huh?" he asks softly, nodding down at you while you nod up at him. "Shit," he huffs, "Oh fuck."

"Not so...oh my god, oh wow -- not so t-tough now, are you?" you giggle. He groans when you giggle, Why are you so fucking precious? he thinks to himself, Who allowed this?

Heat rises even more, the jewelry starting to feel clingy as it sticks to your shining skin. Steve keeps his pace, eyes closing softly while he leans his head back, the column of his neck begging to be bitten and kissed by you. You whimper, pulling at the clasp of the bracelet, tossing it onto the carpet next to the bed. Now there was $48,250 on the floor. Feeling less trapped and more desperate to destroy his neck and chest, you sit up, your manicured hand pressing against his hair covered pecs. It doesn't take long for him to allow it, looking up at you while you climb on top of him.

"That's it, honey, give it to me," he breathes, "Show me how bad you want it."

Your hips move with a slutty percision that he loves, grinding against him for your own pleasure and his. He hisses when you bite down on his neck, letting out a soft laugh when you pull at his hair, "Come for me, angel, c'mon." He hears you pant in his ear while you lean over him, the diamonds in your necklace shimmering in his eyes. You sigh, sitting up straight, unclasping the necklace while you bounce on top of him, gently tossing it to meet the bracelet. Now there was $198,250 on the floor. "Do not," he groans out, hands grabbing your hips with bruising grip, "Put those earrings on the ground, we will never find them until a post ends up in my fucking heel." You laugh, your own head leaning back, making him yearn to taste the column of your neck this time. But your laugh doesn't last long, it morphs into guttural moans while he holds you in place, thrusting up into you in an unforgiving speed. Steve gasps, watching your breasts bounce in front of him while he continues on unrelenting. "Baby..." You squeak out, "Steve...oh fuck, oh Steve -- Steve, Steve, Steve..." The heat builds and builds and builds. Your eyes water while his cock bullies into you. The head hitting your g-spot, pushing in deeper while he goes. You let out a cry, nails digging into his broad freckles shoulders while our hips slam down on him, thighs vibrating while white blooms behind your eyes.

"Good girl," He coos while you shake, collapsing onto his chest, "That's it, angel, that's my girl." He eases you onto your back again, giving you slow kisses on your neck and chest while he chases his own orgasm. It doesn't take long, nearly on the precipice of cumming since he zipped you up in your dress earlier in the evening. His mouth gapes while he sends his seed over your tummy, painting you with ropes of glistening white. "Jesus Christ..." he gasps, settling himself with some big deep breaths that expand his sculpted chest. You both look at each other, panting and sweating, the passion wearing off to a pure and gentle love for each other. You both start laughing. "We swear we're sexy," you laugh up at him. His smile makes you melt all over again. You watch him ease up off the bed, leaning forward from the side to kiss your forehead. He picks up the jewelry, inspecting it for missing gems, or - god forbid - a scratch, and places it carefully on the side table with his glasses. "Wanna get cleaned up with me?" he asks, tilting his head, "Can you stand?" "Oh please," you roll your eyes, sitting up slowly, "I can..sort of stand." You already feel the ache between your legs from taking him, knowing you'll need at least a day to recover from something so big. He helps you up, taking you into the en suite bathroom and getting the water just right for you to step into. "I'll be right back," he says, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple before he disappears in the steam. When he returns behind the glass of the standing shower, covered top to bottom in dark green tile, he passes you a glass of Malbec that matches his. "A little celebratory night cap," he says sweetly. "To closing the deal," you grin, giving his glass a clink to cheers. "To closing the deal," he says back before you both take a sip.

"I know you're not wearing those earings in the shower, Manhattan," he sighs, putting the glass on the product shelf out of the water. He reaches for you ears but you yelp playfully, stepping away from him, "You're gonna be the fuckin' death of me, honey. I swear."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x thick!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #pbv!steve #steve harrington fluff

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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not so wise II a.russo x reader

she looks so cuddly there ^ not so wise II a.russo x reader

"do you want us to come in with you?" lotte offered as she pulled into the dental clinic and found a parking spot. "no it should be fine. i know where to go and they said it shouldn't take much more than twenty minutes before i'm admitted." alessia declined, grabbing her bag and unbuckling herself.

the blonde was due to get her wisdom teeth removed today and yourself and lotte as her closest friends had volunteered to drive her there and look after her post surgery. tooney and mary had both volunteered given the wsl had a two week break but alessia assured them they should spend the time with family and loved ones in manchester instead.

"did they tell you roughly how long you'll be under for?" you questioned, rolling down your window as the taller girl hovered by the car, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "an hour or two maybe? they've got lotte's number and they said they'll call you once i'm in recovery and thats when you come inside." alessia explained as you both nodded.

"once you're all loopy!" you grinned teasingly making the girl roll her eyes. "i still say its something people put on and over act for views, i'm sure i'll be a little out of it but i don't think it'll be half as dramatic as everyone says it is." alessia assured herself as you and lotte only hummed with amused smiles.

"well bye then!" the blonde rolled her eyes again at your obvious disbelief toward her words, though this time more playfully as you both called out good luck and she disappeared inside.

"so...full english?"

"got any fives?" you asked, tucking your knees to your chest and peering at lotte over the top of your cards. "how do you win every single time, you're cheating!" the older girl huffed handing over her cards as you grinned.

"you're just terrible at this lots you've always been shit at card games." you chuckled, not willing to reveal you could actually see the poor girls cards in the reflection of the window behind her.

the two of you had gone for breakfast and coffee and had returned to the clinic, now sat in lotte's car trying to pass the time as you waited for her phone to ring.

"harsh. but alright new game, blackjack!" lotte announced, holding out her hands for your cards, though right as she began to shuffle the deck her phone rang. a few words exchanged with the nurses and the two of you had locked the car and headed inside.

"she's in the fourth door on your left girls." the nurse pointed down the hallway after checking you both in, thanking her you headed down there. "is that?" you paused, hearing a familiar voice singing.

"oh my god it is." lotte grinned, the two of you hurrying to the source of the noise, opening the door to find a nurse begging alessia stop moving her mouth, the gauze continually falling out.

"oh look it's my best friends, you came!" alessia gasped with a slur as you and lotte looked on gleefully at her current state of drugged up delusion. "hi lessi, you feeling okay?" you smiled moving to her side and running a hand through her hair.

"i feel....so good." alessia chuckled, grabbing your top and yanking you down closer to her. "we gotta steal some of this stuff it is great." she whispered making you laugh and gently pry her hands off of you as lotte spoke with the nurse.

"okay less you need to stop yelling because the nurse needs to put the gauze back in your mouth to stop the bleeding." lotte explained gently to the taller girl who groaned.

"it feels like im eating marshmallows i don't want it!" she whined, pushing away the nurses hands. "you don't eat it! you just leave it in your mouth." you reminded with a chuckle, alessia finally allowing the nurse to re-insert the gauze.

"this is going to be a long afternoon." lotte mumbled to you with a knowing smile as alessia started to ramble about how she didn't believe they'd taken her teeth out because she could still feel them in her mouth, words hardly understandable with the cotton pads shoved in her cheeks.

"but a funny one." you grinned in response.

"-here we gooo! tooney and lessi russo." alessia finished singing for what felt like the one hundredth time as now yours and lottes patience was beginning to slowly thin. "can they put the gauze back in?" lotte sighed dragging her hands down her face.

"they said we can take her home soon." you patted the older girls knee with a smile as alessia commenced the infamous song yet again, taking full advantage of the happy gas she was coming down from.

"oi. get my bag!" alessia stopped and pointed at you. "get your bag?" you hinted with a smile. "please." alessia corrected as you chuckled and passed her the bag. "less i don't think you'll need that it's not very cold out." you laughed as she pulled out a beanie.

"oh god stop it hold on." you shook your head as she tried to yank it on over her hair which was up in a bun. moving to let it out you took the beanie from her and gently tucked it on, patting her head once you were done.

"you're so good to me." the blonde sighed, grabbing your hand and placing a few kisses to the back of your palm as you scrunched up your nose and pushed her head away. "your mouths all bloody." you chuckled, pulling your hand away and wiping it.

"you wiped off my kisses!" alessia gasped before flipping you off. "oh i like doing this." she giggled, turning her middle fingers toward lotte who grinned and took a picture. "oh my god lessi." you hurried to push her hands down as the doctor and nurse entered and the blonde flipped them off too.

"i can assure you i've taken worse." the man chuckled as alessia flipped him off again and you held her hands in yours to stop her. "if you wanted to hold hands you should have just asked babe." alessia grinned, head flopping to the side as you sighed and shook your head.

"the anesthesia should start to wear off in the new few hours so you're both welcome to take her home now. i assume one of you is staying with her overnight to monitor?" he asked as you confirmed that would be you, lotte having dinner plans with tao.

"if she has any abnormally heavy bleeding, or a reaction to anything or the pain worsens beyond a five or six out of ten just give us a call." he gave you a card with the clinic details on it which you stashed in your pocket, quickly grabbing alessia's hand again as her middle finger popped back up.

you thanked him as lotte disappeared with the nurse to sign off on alessia's discharge papers. "do you ever think about if you drop soap on the floor. is the soap dirty or is the floor clean?" alessia pondered as you looked down at her in amusement.

"can't say i have less." you grabbed her bag off her lap, slinging it over your shoulder. "come on, time to head home." you helped her up into a sitting position, encouraging she slowly try to stand. "okay easy!" you grunted as the taller girl stumbled into you.

"you're so tiny. i could just wrap you up and put you in my pocket." alessia sighed, one hand resting on your head as the other slung over your shoulders, your own wrapped around her torso as you helped her walk out of the room.

lotte grabbing her from the other side the walk to the car was much smoother, alessia still rambling away absolutely anything that popped up in her mind, no chance of any sort of filter being active at the moment.

"why am i in the back! i'm the oldest." alessia huffed as you both slid her in and buckled her up. "no you're not you idiot." lotte laughed, slipping into the drivers seat. "yeah i've decided i'm the oldest now. deal with it bruv!" alessia slurred with a shrug.

"oh god her chav era's returning." you teased, alessia scoffing in offence and winding down the window as lotte pulled out of the clinic. "can we get food please? i'm starving!" alessia groaned dramatically.

"you're not allowed to eat for another two hours sorry less." you turned around with an apologetic smile as she groaned louder and sunk down into her seat, frowning like a scolded child. "i'm wasting away here! i'll die of starvation!" alessia moaned kicking the back of your seat as lotte chuckled and you started to film the blonde kicking off.

"they're starving me here send help!" she stuck her head out the window with a yell and gasped as suddenly her beanie went flying off her head, sending you and lotte into hysterics.

"that was my favourite beanie! it's from college." alessia cried out as you wound up her window. "should have kept your head in the car then less, you're not a dog." lotte chuckled as she pulled into alessia's driveway.

the blonde whinging the entire time both you and lotte managed to get her inside and settled on the lounge. "has it been two hours yet?" alessia huffed impatiently as you covered her with a blanket and shook your head causing her to groan.

"here you big sook put this on your jaw where it's sore." lotte returned handing alessia an icepack. "you sure you don't want me to stay?" she checked as you walked with her to the door. "no! you've been looking forward to these plans with tao all week. we'll be fine." you assured, hugging the girl goodbye and closing the door after her.

"what are you doing lessi?" you sighed with a smile as alessia was wrestling with the blanket. "i'm hot. i'm trying to take my pants off!" the blonde huffed in annoyance, words still slightly slurred from the swelling and anesthesia.

"do you want me to get you some shorts and a t-shirt?" you offered, hurrying off to her room and rummaging through her drawers, grabbing what you needed. "here." you threw them to her, laughing as the bundle of clothes hit her in the face.

"who turned the lights out!" she yelled against the material as you rolled your eyes and peeled them off, pulling the blanket off of her and retreating to the kitchen to put your phone on charge as she changed.

"well, all things considered that went quite well." you grinned seeing she had managed to change but had put her shirt on inside out. "what do you want to watch?" you collapsed beside her on the lounge, kicking your feet up onto her coffee table and grabbing the remote.

"something not food related!" alessia moaned in annoyance. "and here i was about to put on the great british bake off!" you teased, encouraging her to put the ice pack back against her mouth. "my arms are tired, you hold it." alessia demanded with a huff tossing it onto your lap.

clicking into she's the man, more so for your own viewing pleasure than hers, you shuffled closer to her and gently pressed the icepack to her cheek.

"can't believe you wiped off my kisses before, those were with love!" alessia glared up at you as you shook your head. "your mouth was all bloody! it was gross." you laughed making her scoff.

"if i kissed you on the lips would you wipe it off?" she challeneged, eyes starting to become a little droopy as the doctor warned she would likely become quite tired the more it wore off.

"why would you kiss me on the lips?" you chuckled with smile. "cause i have a crush on you, sshh." alessia hushed, a finger pressing to your lips as your eyes widened.

"don't tell y/n though." alessia yawned, stretching out as her eyes started to close. you opened your mouth to speak but thought better of it, knowing this would need to be a conversation had tomorrow.

"morning." you looked up from your phone as alessia appeared with a yawn, making a beeline right for her coffee machine, holding a mug up as you nodded.

"how do you feel?" you asked, last nights confession still playing on your mind as you locked your phone and rested your chin on your hand. "like i got punched in the mouth? and a bit foggy about most of yesterday afternoon." alessia chuckled with a rasp, morning voice thick as she slumped against the bench.

"all i'll say is you definitely need to retract your statement about people putting it on for views." you smiled causing her to groan and turn back to the coffee machine. "i assume you and lotte have plenty of video evidence." she sighed, moving to lean on the counter across from you, sliding you your coffee and sipping on her own.

"we do. but most of it was harmless," you assured her with a soft smile as her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "most of it?"

"yeah um, there is something you said i sort of want to talk about." you started, putting down your coffee and messing with your fingers as alessia nodded. "you might have kind of...said you have a crush on me?" you winced as the blonde choked on her coffee, spitting it back out and coughing as you hurried to grab her some water.

she croaked out a thank you and took a swig as you sat back down.

"it was just me being drugged up!" she brushed off, clearly embarrassed as her face burnt bright red and she refused to look at you. "less i-" you started as she cut you off, mumbling how she wanted to shower and darting off to the bathroom.

you waited for her to return, settling in on the lounge and flicking on her tv.

around a half an hour later she emerged, silently sitting beside you as neither of you spoke for a few minutes.

"so maybe it wasn't the anesthesia." alessia started, looking down at her hands. "i do kind of have a crush on you, as juvenile as that sounds given the fact we're twenty four." she chuckled awkwardly.

"but i really value our friendship and i don't want to lose that or make you uncomfortable so i'm so sorry if i have."

"you haven't, i promise."

"that was not at all the way i wanted you to find out." alessia sighed burying her face in her hands. "drunk mind sober thoughts hm." you nudged her with a soft smile.

"so are you going to ask me on a date or just sit here feeling sorry for yourself?" you asked nudging her again, alessia's head shooting up, surprise etched into her features. "um. do you want to go and get dinner?" the blonde stumbled over her words as you nodded, finding how flustered she was incredibly cute.

"yeah i do."

#woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alessia russo #woso

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phyrestartr · 2 months ago

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Those Ghosts We Cannot Burn | Dabi x M!Reader

w/c: 1k cw: past trauma, canon-typical Todoroki family, mentions of child abuse, canon-typical violence, graphic language, difficult relationships #Eventual NSFW, bl, dunno who is top/bottom yet lol, hurt/comfort, angst, drama, reader is yakuza, reader and dabi have history, sorta enemies to lovers?? Notes: AAAAH short little snippet but I wanted to post anyway!! I need to get drafts out of my system or I'll go mad lmao...they're all just clogging up my google docs...it's so bad dude OTL so many WIPs

(ALL tags): @kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

1. Hello, My Past

The bodies of his victims hissed and burned with a life only fire could leave in the path of destruction. Dabi knew it well–he was made the same way, after all. But they'd go on to simply disappear, their ashes fluttering away with the Autumn breeze while he continued to conquer his fate.

“Hey, you're the one they call ‘Dabi,’ right?”

The man in question paused, ears perking at that shitty, monotonous tone. Hah. It pissed him off. It made his heart hum, too. Weird.

“Who's askin'?” He drawled, tucking his hands in his pockets as he turned to face you with languid steps. When he caught sight of you in that alleyway, he almost remembered something, but couldn’t find the will to dwell on it.

“I am, on behalf of Shie Hassaikai,” you said, adjusting the cuffs of your jacket. “You've been torching our men, y’know?”

Dabi smiled. “And? You want an autograph or somethin’?”

You quirked a brow, looked him up and down, and scoffed. “You got a pen? Or, even know how to write in the first place? Don’t look the type.”

“Oi–”

“Anyway,” you continued, “You wouldn’t be willing to stop murdering ours while our respective leaders discuss their deal, hey?”

Dabi clicked his tongue. Annoying. “Their deal's got nothing to do with me.”

“Guess you're not as high up as they said, then.”

“You're a real pain in the ass, y'know?”

“It's kinda my job.”

“Maybe someone should relieve you from duty.”

A torrent of blue bloomed and crashed through the alley with the vicious hunger of a tsunami. Sparks exploded and flames lashed against stone and concrete, engulfing sky, earth, and all in-between with his show of firepower–a show he never grew tired of, one that never failed to remind him just what he lived for, what he–wait.

He squinted. What the hell?

A bright silhouette stood in the centre of the violent cleansing, wholly unmoved by the villain's flame. It wavered like a candle tousled by the night breeze, but it did not fade away with the light, nor with the wane of fire. And in the aftermath, once the alley fell quiet and dim once again, there it still stood, staring his way with a light that might rival a god's true form.

“You done?” You asked, voice crackling through a veil of blue.

Thousands of questions and thoughts rushed through his mind–what the hell was that? Who were you? What was your quirk? Why was your fire blue, too?--but he couldn't settle on one, not long enough to spit it out, anyway.

“I'll consider that a yes,” you decided. Your form re-materialized with a small flourish embers, and you breathed in deep.

Dabi tried not to let on how bothered he felt. “What the hell was that quirk?”

“Does it really matter?” You hummed, smiling. “The only thing you need to know is what you just saw–you can't get rid of me. Not with those flames of yours.”

“Hah. You sure about that, pretty boy?” His fingers twitched, eager to try his hand again. “I could crank the heat up for ya, see just how much you can handle.”

“Maybe another time,” you said, half-distracted as you checked your phone. “For now, remember what I said. Our bosses are trying to work together. Don't make this difficult.”

You turned halfway through your thought, showing Dabi your back without a care in the world. You must've really thought you couldn't be hurt by him. You must have really thought you were better than him. You must have.

But the sirens roaring toward the alley ruined his chance at demolishing you. He could take them on, but he'd rather not deal with the headache that'd follow–heaven knows he'd get reemed by some of the other villains for taking the PR crap too far.

Fucking prick, Dabi seethed silently. He'd have to kill you some other day.

–

“Touya,” you called, voice quiet.

The boy next to you, the one you squished into that single bed with whenever nightmares found him, stirred. Only your voice seemed to pull him free from the lull of dreams and nightmares, oddly.

“Yeah?” He whispered, clearing his throat, grimacing again at the scratchy stiffness to it.

“Once the doc helps you,” you started, sounding too serious for your age, “I think we should leave.”

“What?” Touya rubbed sleep from his eyes the best he could without tearing stitches and skin grafts apart. “What the hell is–”

Whatever else he had to say died in his throat when he caught a glimpse of you in the filtered moonlight; your calm, passive look of day had shifted come the night. Your face was kinder, exposing flickers of forbidden thoughts for none but one to see and soon forget, come the beckon of sleep.

“What the hell's your problem?” Touya breathed.

Your brows furrowed. “I don't want to be here,” you answered. “Have you even considered trying to go to your family? We could–”

“I did go back. Nothing's changed.” He smiled, bitter. “Those fucking sheep abandoned me already.”

“I won't abandon you,” you promised suddenly. “We can talk to them. Together. Come on, Touya–”

Touya laughed a pathetic, little sound. “Are you serious? They don't give a shit about me, they're not gonna give a shit about–do you think you're better than me? More special?”

Your eyes grew round. “Wh–I never said that.”

“But you think they'd listen to you, and not me,” he hissed, something igniting the hollow paths of his nerves and revving him back to life. “You think I'm not–”

You covered his mouth with a quick hand, and he held your wrist with a weak grip. “Shut up. You don't know what I think, so–so just shut up.”

I know what you think. And he was determined to prove you wrong, one way or another, even if he had to rip himself apart to do it--but you saw through him so easily. You always did; you always knew how to push his buttons then reset the system before he blew up.

And when you leaned in and kissed the back of your hand, the one still clasped over his mouth, he did indeed reset. Completely braindead once again, he was.

“Forget I said anything,” you huffed, turning your back to him and settling back in.

And Touya tried to forget, even though his mind buzzed and his heart thudded against his ribs. He tried, and he tried, and he tried.

#past trauma #canon-typical Todoroki family #mentions of child abuse #canon-typical violence #graphic language #difficult relationships #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya x reader #male reader insert #male!reader #bnha x you #bnha x male reader #toya x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x you #dabi x y/n #phyrestartr

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prettymase · 8 months ago

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I Can Do It Better

NOTES: Hi guys 🤭 it’s been a while and I can assure you I’m in a much better place now and was inspired to write after re reading my old fics. For now I’ll be posting my old fics and I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

WORD COUNT: 12.1k words

It was the first weekend you spent in Manchester. It felt a little odd adjusting to the new lifestyle in a new city where you barely knew anyone, it was going to take a while to get used to for sure but there was no one else you’d rather do it with.

The one person you sacrifice it all for

The reason you moved up here in the first place

The love of your life. Your boyfriend.

Mason Mount

Both of you are spending the evening in a restaurant in the city centre of Manchester with Mason’s new teammates alongside some of the WAGS.

You were nervous at first because you hadn’t met his new teammates properly yet apart from the England teammates, but meeting new people always made you anxious. It brought out the introvert in you, a side to you that you rarely showed anyone. What people think of you always matters to you because you’re a people’s pleaser and their first impression of you always matters, thinking about it made you feel sick. You wanted to make people believe that you were this confident, outgoing person but who were you to fool?

Even meeting the WAGS made you feel uneasy, everyone was either influencers or had their own businesses and then there was you, who had a basic 9-5 office job. Which there was nothing wrong with but it made you feel insecure about your relationship because you always thought in the back of your mind that you weren’t Mason’s type, no matter how many times he reassured you.

In terms of friendships, you also had a bad luck. You had a lot of fake friends since college, some of whom you had to cut off from your life because you didn't need toxic people in your life like that, no matter how much it hurt you, but you had to do it for the sake of your mental health.

You had a good few friends that you’d do anything for. But there was one where you’d just drop everything for at that second.

And that was your partner in crime, Sid.

From the beginning, this girl had been by your side all the way through. You could count on her to make your day ten times better, no matter what day it was, whether it was a bad day or a good day, she just knew how to make your day better.

It didn't take you long to figure out what you were going to do without her in Manchester. Because you were used to seeing her every day, you hadn't accepted that you had moved away from her and that she won't be a few minutes away from me, instead she will be a few hours away from me, but you didn't want to deal with it yet because you were used to seeing her every day and didn't want to accept that you had moved miles away from her.

You wanted to get through tonight without any problems.

You and Mason were the first people to get there surprisingly, because usually you were used to being late. The nerves were getting to you, Mason who was beside you in the waiting area had his arm around your waist, and another hand on your bare thigh silently comforting you.

As well as seeing Mason's nervousness, it was evident that it was a big deal for him, of course. He was meeting his teammates for the first time and was hoping that they'd all get along. You grabbed the hand that was on his thigh and started kissing his knuckles lightly just to show comfort and to give him reassurance that you were always there for him.

You put your arm around him, as he buried his face into your neck as his hand went to your bare back, “You okay?” You whispered, wanting to do your best to try and calm his nerves. As soon as he was about to reply both of your phones started going crazy with Twitter notifications, just to see that The Sun had posted a moment the two of you had a minute ago.

“Gosh, they’re quick aren’t they?” Mason laughed, making you laugh too.

You both had spent a few minutes before the rest of them had come, in that time a couple of his fans came up to him asking for a photo, which he couldn’t say no too.

The sight of him with fans always managed to melt your heart. He was just so gentle and caring with them. You heard one of the fans that had come up to him say that Mason was his role model and it made you so emotional and proud at the same time. The way Mason’s smile brightened when he heard that, it’s a sight you’d never get tired of seeing.

His smile is the most beautiful ever. The way his dimples come into place and his eyes crinkle with his smile. It’s just a little too perfect.

Once everyone had finally come and you got seated your nerves started to settle but your hands never left Mason’s squeezing it every so often. All of you had got seated into a private room so that they couldn’t get interrupted, which Mason was secretly thankful for. You were squeezed in between Mason on one side and Jadon on the other, with Anouska opposite you, which you were thankful for.

You had spoken to Anouska a few times when Mason played for England for the Euros and The World Cup. So you were pleased to see a familiar face as it brought you right back to your comfort zone.

While the lads were talking you, Anouska and a few of the WAGS who sat close to Anouska, were talking about girly stuff that satisfied all of us girlies.

You turned to your right to see Mason settling in slowly with his new teammates which settled your heart because that’s all you ever wanted to see.

After months of drama with Chelsea it was like he was slowly losing himself, you saw it first hand. It was heartbreaking to see, so the fact he’s got a fresh start with a new club and seeing him laugh made your stomach erupt with butterflies.

You missed the sound of his laugh so much. It was good to see him coming back to his normal self. It’s all you ever wanted for him. It’s what he deserved.

A while later, Jadon had started a conversation with you. You had known him since the England squad and he was a funny lad. Every time you spoke to him you know there was going to be a good few laughs.

“How’s you and your girl?” You asked, remembering that he had a girl then last time you spoke to each other.

“Oh. We broke up, she wasn’t ready for a relationship, she felt there was too much pressure,” Jadon sighed, you hated yourself to asking that, now that you felt bad.

“I’m sorry for asking, the right one will come along when the times right,” you said smiling softly at him.

“I think I’ve made my mind up anyways. I think you are the perfect woman I need,” Jadon said with a serious tone, your heart dropped, you didn’t want trouble with this teammates. You only have eyes for Mason.

“What?” You asked confusedly. He burst out laughing seeing your reaction.

“I’m joking man, I know you and Mase are practically married. It was just funny seeing your face,” Jadon chuckled.

“Oh shut up J,” You said rolling your eyes playfully as you stood up to go to the bathroom with Anouska and the girls, leaving the boys to their boy chat or whatever they were doing.

Mason was talking to Luke who was on the other side of him, when he heard you talking to Jadon. He felt a little jealous that you and him were getting a long well. He knew that you both were good friends from the past England tournaments, but seeing you laugh with him every five minutes made him uneasy to see you with another man. Mason wasn’t trying to be possessive or anything, Mason thought he was getting a bit too some for his liking but he shrugged it off. He had known you had eyes for him and him only.

Once you had gotten up to go to the bathroom, Jadon scooted over to your hair for the time being so he could speak to Mason as he hadn’t done the entire evening.

“You alright bro? I hardly had a chance to speak to you this evening, you settling in alright?” Jadon asked, cutting Mason’s conversation with Luke short.

“Yeah bro! It’s all good. It’s going to take time settling in properly, but me and Y/N will eventually get there. She’s been a big help.”

"Well if ever need anything, you know where me and the Manchester lads are. Speaking of Y/N, she's a good girl. Don't let her out of your sight, someone else might have eyes on her," Jadon winks, as he moves back on to his own chair.

“Sound bro,” Mason sounded annoyed but tried flashing it with a smile which could practically fool anyone. What he was thinking was a whole different story. He had enough questions and doubts in his brain, he tried brushing it off and trying to act as if he wasn’t bothered by which could possibly fool anyone. However, he knew it couldn’t fool you.

You could read him like a book.

Ever since you had come back from the bathroom, Mason’s mood was off and no matter how much he tried hiding it with that precious smile of his, you thought to ask about it there and then but you hesitated knowing that this wasn’t the time and place for it.

Walking to your seat, you squeezed Mason’s shoulder in comfort, as you went to sit down you could see Mason playing with his fingers, looking down in his lap while everyone else was talking, you wondered if he felt out of place that’s why his mood was off?

You put your hand on his thigh, smiling softly “Are you okay, Mase?” You asked, as you couldn’t take seeing your boyfriend in a mood.

“I’m okay babe,” he smiled back, bringing the hand that was on your thigh up to his mouth kissing your knuckles gesturing that he was grateful you asked. You don’t know why you asked because you knew what he’d say would be a lie, he’s never not said to you ‘I’m not fine’, previously you’ve had to force it out of him but tonight you didn’t question it any further as you thought there was a time and place for that, and at a restaurant with his new teammates ain’t the place to do that.

Throughout the whole night, he kept to himself, only replying when needed to, but his hand never left yours.

The drive back home was awfully silent. Normally Mason’s hand would be finding his way up your thigh, but today it was by his side or on the gearstick whenever needed to change the gears. He hadn’t given you a second look since you both had left the restaurant, which you found odd.

You wondered if you had done anything to piss him off?

If that was the case he would’ve been moody with you the whole night too right?

And what could’ve you possibly done?

As soon as you parked up to your new shared house, Mason went straight to the front door. Another thing you found odd as he always opened the passenger door for you no matter what.

Was this a coincidence or was he actually mad at you?

You thought you overthinking this whole thing more than you should be, so you decided to leave it.

As soon as you got inside you rapidly took your heels off, relieved that now you were out of them because your feet were in pain the whole night. You don’t know why you did this to yourself every time.

You walked into the kitchen with Mason slowly following you behind. You got yourself a glass of water and while you were drinking it Mason came up behind you, his chest pressing against your back, moving your hair to the side, his arms gripping onto your waist and his head dipping into the crook of your neck, peppering light kisses on your sweet spot. You squirmed slightly because his stubble was tickling you, "you looked out of this world tonight, baby. You're mine. Mine only. Nobody else's. You're my girl." Mason started to get frustrated at how Jadon's words from earlier kept replaying in his mind at this specific moment. Mason couldn't help but get slightly overprotective and possessive over you. He knew you wouldn't do anything to hurt him but still he couldn't help his insecurities that got to the better of him.

“What’s gotten into you, Mase?” You playfully laughed at how his mood changed when you had entered your new home. Mason had ignored you and carried on kissing the crook of your neck just where your sweet spot is.

He knows what he’s doing

You had turned around to face him, causing him to stop with a little pout on his face. “Talk to me, bubs,” you softly spoke, his head down, grabbing your fingers to play with them that had settled him. He felt a little silly for what’s going to come out of his mouth next, but he needed to ask to reassure his doubts and insecurities. “Is there something going on between you and Jadon? You can be honest, I won’t be mad, I just want you to be honest with me,” you were taken back by his comments, how could he think that? You had no idea where this was coming from. “What? No!! Why would you even think that, Mase?” You asked a little surprised that out of all people Mason would think that.

“You can’t blame me for thinking that, you two looked a bit too close for my liking. You were laughing at everything he was saying, you never laugh at my jokes like that,” Mason raised his tone slightly, what Jadon had said to him earlier got into his head.

“Really, Mase? Is this what it’s all about? Not laughing at your jokes? He’s just a funny lad that’s all.” You looked down at your kitchen tiles, not wanting to look at him in the face right now.

“Does funny make you cum?” You shot your head up at that question, meeting your face with Mason’s rather serious face with his eyebrows raised.

“Mason, you’re staring to sound ridiculous now. Do I need to prove how much I love you? I thought moving here with you was enough to prove that.” The last sentence had just slipped out, you didn’t mean to sound like you were doing him a favour by moving here with him.

That felt like a slap in Mason’s face hearing that last sentence come out of your mouth, he was beyond pissed now.

When it was announced that Mason was leaving Chelsea and was starting his new life at Manchester United, Mason had sat you down and had asked you what you’d want to do, whether that was moving to Manchester with him or staying in London.

He had never put any pressure on you knowing that all your family and friends lived in London, he didn’t want you to regret moving in the future, so he let you take your time with deciding what you wanted.

What Mason wanted was a different story, he wanted you to move with him, but he didn’t want it to seem like you had to move with him, because the last thing he’d want is making it seem like you were doing him a favour by moving here.

And that’s exactly what you did.

“I NEVER FUCKING ASKED YOU TO DO THAT!!” Despite having a stern tone, Mason’s angry expression could be clearly seen through the tone of his voice.

“YEAH BECAUSE YOU NEVER NEEDED TO, I FOLLOWED YOU UP HERE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, I DON’T EVER WANT ANYONE ELSE!” You said frustratedly, trying to prove to him that he’s the only one you want so when he made that accusation it hurt you deeply.

“YEAH, IT FUCKING LOOKED LIKE IT WHEN YOU HAD JADON HANGING OFF YOU ALL NIGHT!!” Mason couldn’t help but roll his eyes which annoyed you even further.

“OH FUCK YOU MASE, YOU’RE BEING SUCH A CHILD”

“OH FUCK ME, YEAH?”

“YEAH, FUCK YOU!!”

Mason rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t be arsed to deal with this anymore, so you went past him shoving his shoulder lightly, “I’m not dealing with this right now, I’m going up to bed,” you said to Mason as you walked out of the kitchen.

Mason grabbed your wrist and pulled you abruptly towards him, his grasp on your waist turned firm. His gaze bore into yours as his lips met yours in a fervent kiss. With no opportunity to catch your breath, the fervour of the kiss increased as Mason pressed you up against the kitchen door. The passionate kisses escalated as neither of you wanted to part.

You feel Mason passionately bringing his lips back to yours as you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck as he trails his lips to your collarbone. He mumbles jump against your skin as your heart races and your breathing quickens. His grip on your waist tightens even more than it was as he pushed your body against the cold wall.

You slightly start to grind against him clothed bulge desperately wanting to feel him, throwing your head back while Mason’s lips trail across your jaw and down your neck, nibbling in your sweet spot as he holds you tight. Now sucking on your sweet spot as he couldn’t help himself, you know a mark will be left there in the morning but right now you don’t care. You moan not being able to hold it in anymore, Mason pulls back to look at you, “those moans are only for me, do you understand that sweetheart?” The tone in his voice is deep, the look in his eye is quite dark, with a cocky expression on his face.

He was enjoying being in control way too much

He threw you over his shoulder and carried you upstairs to your shared bedroom, so he can have his way with you.

“Y/N, you’ve been a tease all night. Now this whole neighbourhood is going to hear you scream my name tonight, they’re all going to know you’re mine,” he growled with an air of dominance.

Mason wasted no time in stripping your clothes off

You shivered, nodding. He smirked, as he threw you onto the bed, now that you’re both naked you never got used to the sight of seeing Mason naked, you were speechless everytime, your eyes went straight to his boxers which he hadn’t taken off yet. Mason smirked cockily at your reaction, “Oh so now you want me, eyes up here sweetheart,” he smiled, before hovering over you and tipped your chin up so you could look at him in the eyes, looking into those lust eyes knowing how much he wants you fuck you right now, “get on your all fours for me, baby.” Mason winked, as you just got lost in his eyes before Mason spoke again “baby, I really don’t want to have to ask again,” which brought you back to reality and did what he said.

He wasn’t one to be reckoned with when he was like this

territorial & jealous

“Jadon said you were a good girl, but good girls go flirting around with other people do they?” He breathed, showing his jealous side which you quite clearly enjoyed seeing him like this.

“So that makes you a naughty girl, my naughty girl.”

He gave your ass a little slap, watching it bounce from the impact with a satisfied smirk. You flinched but you secretly loved how rough her was being, “this is what naughty girls deserve.”

Mason quickly stripped out of his boxers, rolling a condom onto his thick, throbbing erection, before lining himself up at your entrance and shoving it in abruptly. Causing you to gasp at the sudden burning. The burning quickly subsided as you adjusted to Mason’s size, still to this date you never got used to his size. He started thrusting fast and furiously, tugging on your hair and making you lift your head so he could leave hot, wet kisses on the side of your neck.

You grunted with each thrust, trying to hold yourself up as your arms weakened in pleasure, but it didn’t stop Mason. He pounded into you with all of his anger, all of his jealousy, all of his possessiveness. “You’re such a slut, flirting with my friends,” Mason adds, slapping your ass once again. You absolutely loved this side of him, already soaring towards your release. Loud moans and screams left your lips, his name falling from them like a prayer. Your whole body shook, and the headboard against the wall sounded like thunder from his forcefully it was rocking. Mason pulled you up on your knees, so your bodies were fully flesh against each other, but he didn’t slow down.

“You like that, sweetheart? You like my cock buried inside your sweet little pussy? I bet Jadon couldn’t fuck you like this?”Mason growled.

“No, just you,” you managed to choke out, dangerously close to your climax.

“Say it again, who makes you feel this good?” He demanded, his cockiness getting to him.

“You, Mase, only you!!” You cried out, orgasm crashing over you and Mason released at the same time as you, both of you sharing an intimate moment together.

You lay there breathless, and Mason parted your legs again.

“Mase?” You asked, trying to get your breath back.

“When you can’t walk tomorrow, I want you to remember how good my cock was inside you and how good my tongue is,” he grinned deviously

His tongue darted inside you, and you groaned in ecstasy, still sensitive from the rough fucking he’d just given you. He slipped two fingers inside you, pumping in and out quickly and mercilessly as his tongue worked magic on your clit, almost immediately bringing you to your second orgasm of the night.

Mason spent all night pleasuring you in multiple ways and by the time he was finished, you were completely exhausted. You couldn’t even move and your clit kept throbbing, your legs twitching from time to time.

Mason lazily left a soft kiss along the already formed hi keys on your skin. He smiled against your lips and then laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, so now your head was on his chest.

“You did so good, baby. You took it all like a pro,” he. complimented.

“Mhmm… Hey, Mase. i just want to say I’m sorry-” you smiled, trying to apologise but you looked confused when he stopped you when he put his finger over your lips.

“Ah no, if anything I should be apologising to you, I’m sorry my doubts got to the better of me,” you smiled as he placed a kiss on your lips.

Mason chuckled as you quickly fell asleep in his arms, listening to him whisper how beautiful you are, how glad he was that you were his, and he doesn’t know what he did in life to get you. He truly felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Mason looked over at your sleeping figure, and thinking about the day when you both first met, how he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the crowd, effortlessly beautiful and how you’d never change anything from that day. It was the most perfect moment.

He was so thankful that his best friend and your best friend who joint heads together and set you two up, otherwise he wouldn’t be here where he was now.

Two years ago, you had met Mason during the EURO 2020, Sid had practically dragged you out of the house to watch the match, she was supporting her boyfriend Ben Chilwell, and you were actually off work for a change.

All you wanted to do was catch up on a Netflix series you had started watching but your best friend had other plans as soon as she’d known you were free. You hadn’t seen her in a few days and for you two that’s quite a while without seeing each other because you two at least see each other once a day, it would be nice to see her but just not a at a football match.

You weren’t interested in sports, you were clueless to even think about what was happening apart from the obvious points, that they have go get the ball in the opposite goals. In all honesty you found it boring, you once tried watching a football match at home with Sid and you fell asleep. Hence why you weren’t excited about this match.

You shoved on an England t- shirt you had from ages and paired it with ripped jeans, your hair loosely curled and you went for a natural make up look which consists of, a face tint, tiny bit of concealer to cover your horrendous eye bags, cream contour and cream blush, brown mascara to make it look more natural, laniege lip mask with a tiny bit of brown lip liner and you finished it off with the Charlotte Tilbury setting spray to lock it all in so it could last the whole day.

Once you had arrived at the stadium, you walked down to your seats which were the best in the whole stadium, that was the only good thing about Sid being a WAG. Even so, apart from the occasional teasing, you were happy that she found someone who cares for her and makes her happy.

It would be nice if you could look a bit more lively, don't you think?” Sid said as she settled down into her chair and started to get comfortable. As a response, you simply glared at her, knowing you'd rather be in bed right now, but you couldn't do anything besides try to enjoy the game now that you were here despite the fact that you'd prefer to be in bed.

—

Mason was warming up when he spotted you, he got lost in thought and didn’t hear what Benwas saying to him, “helloooo earth to Mase,” he snapped his fingers in front of his face that brought him back to reality.

“What got you into dreamland, you were looking over at the box? It better not be my missus,” Ben said, getting protective over his girl. Mason raised his eyebrow, “what no?! I’m happy for you two mate I wouldn’t get in the way of you two. I was wondering who’s next to her, I never seen her before,” Mason replied, his cheeks turning pink.

“Aww, does Masey have a little crush,” Ben teased, making Mason laugh and playfully push him. “Nah mate. It’s not like that, I was just wondering who she was that’s all,” Mason cheekily smiled. “The slight blush on your cheeks says something else,” Mason glared at him as he still didn’t answer Mason’s question, “Alright alright! She’s Sid’s best friend, she rarely comes out of her house, hence why you haven’t seen her.” Mason just nodded before getting back to warming up.

Ben wasn’t wrong, you were a homebody as you liked to call it. You just enjoyed being in the comfort of your own home, there was just nothing else like it. What also didn’t help is that you were a massive introvert, you only spoke to people you knew comfortably so if anyone came up to you in public and asked you something you’d panic because quite frankly you didn’t know how to hold a conversation, you found it always being awkward and you hated the atmosphere and working from home didn’t help your communication skills. You thought you were getting social anxiety but you didn’t want to self diagnose yourself.

Mason, however, couldn’t keep his eyes off you. It’s like his eyes kept automatically directing him up to where you were sitting. He thought you were one of the most beautiful women he’s laid eyes on, the way your hair elegantly fell into place without even trying, and your smile? He thought he fell in love at first sight.

He knew you were different.

Different from other girls.

As soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew that you would be a genuine person, and he wasn't sure how to explain it, but he knew deep within his heart that he had to find out just for himself whether or not this was true.

After the match, he followed Ben was going to see his girlfriend, he was excited to see you up close. If you had looked good from far away, he bet that you’d look even more attractive up close.

And he was right

You looked even better up close if that was even possible

—

While the match was going on you couldn’t help but keep your eyes focused on the number 19, your eyes followed everywhere he went. You couldn’t help but admire the way he was playing and you had no clue about the sport.

There was one moment that would stay engraved in your brain, he got angry at a player and started swearing at him. You didn’t know if it was normal to feel like this, you started to daydream a fantasy you thought that would never happen. You hadn’t thought you were daydreaming until Sid snapped her fingers to get you back into the zone.

“Is someone starting to form a crush,” she said playfully wiggling her eyebrows, and you brushed it off like it was nothing, “pfft no, you know me and crushes never went well,” there was truth in what you said.

You’d always find yourself crushing on someone who would never look twice at you, that was the sad reality and with Mason Mount who’s a premier league footballer, there was no chance he’d even take a look at me.

“Well this could go well, if someone puts a word in?”

You eyes went wide, shaking your head, “You dare and I’ll hate you forever,” you say sternly, you didn’t want to make the first move. In your head if someone had their eyes on you, they should make the move instead of you making the first move.

That way you don’t embarrass yourself.

So if Mason did ever have feelings for you, which you doubted, he should make the first move. Besides the fact that now he’s on the pitch playing, he could make a move after if he ever did have feelings.

You spent another 45 mins practically drooling over him. That was until after the game you could see him and Chilly, Sid’s boyfriend walking to the pair of you. You felt panic wash over you.

You turned to Sid with a panicky expression, “omg he’s coming over, what do I say? How do I act? Do I look fine?” You had a load of questions.

“First of all my love, relax. I thought you didn’t have a crush on him?” You glare at her because now was not the time. “Okay, Okay! You look perfect as always, and don’t think of what to say, let the conversation flow naturally. That way is always the best,” she gives you a heartwarming smile.

You didn’t think someone could look so perfect up close but that was the case with Mason.

You were really deep into this and you hadn’t even chatted to him.

You don’t know why you were panicking because you two hit it off really well, you did as Sid said and let the conversation flow and it did you wonders because you managed you bag yourself a date.

One date turned into two dates, two dates turned into three etc, 3 months into the relationship you became his girlfriend, 6 months in you said your ‘I love yous’ and the rest became history.

He didn’t know how he got so lucky to have you but he’d forever be thankful for God for sending you into his life. You’d been there for him for the toughest moments in his life. He’s forever appreciative of you.

masonmount added to their story

You are my one in 7 Billion! 🤍

declanrice replied: still two years later you are actually whipped bro

*masonmount liked this message*

-> masonmount: there’s no way I’d rather have it and you can’t talk, you are just as bad 👊🏻🤣

He laughed at Declan’s message as it had come through in his notifications, he wasn’t wrong in what he said. Him and Declan used to dream of the day settling down with their person, their forever, and it feels like it’s finally happening and he couldn’t be more glad. If he was called whipped so be it, if it makes you happy that’s all he wanted.

Our relationship was nowhere near perfect as no relationship is, and tonight was a good example of it. However no matter how many times you two had disagreements and at the time didn’t see the good side of things, Mason always thought that arguing would somewhat make the connection stronger.

He lifted his head slightly to look at your sleeping figure, trying not to move too harshly as he didn’t want to wake you up, you looked too comfortable and adorable to move. He placed multiple light kisses on your temple. He took one deep look at you, smiled to himself thinking how he was so lucky to have you and how he’s so in love with you and he wouldn’t change that for the world.

You were his forever and he was yours.

He finally drifted off to sleep, feeling content and safe. His worries were forgotten, and his mind was at ease. With a peaceful expression on his face, he slept with a huge grin on his face.

The next morning you woke up to Mason staring at you lovingly, his smile reaching his eyes and his dimples fell into place, even in the mornings he looked so effortlessly handsome.

“Morning handsome,” you kissed him softly as you greeted him good morning. He smiled at you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You both held each other for a moment, taking in the peacefulness of the morning. You felt a warmth inside your chest that could only be described as love.

Mason smiled down at you, his voice still thick with sleep, “good morning beautiful,” he murmured as you just smiled at him, giving him a soft kiss on his lips and he dips his head into your neck.

You stayed in bed for a little while he was placing kisses every so often whether that was on your forehead, neck or the side of your head. You had to get up soon though because Mason had training and you wanted to make him breakfast before he left.

The two of you had breakfast together, enjoying every second of it until he had to say his goodbyes giving you a kiss before he left.

While he was gone you decided to call your best friend, Sid, because she was coming down to Manchester to see you. You had dinner booked in the evening which you couldn’t wait for, because it felt like an eternity since you saw her.

The day had gone by so quick as you were mostly cleaning the whole day but the time had come to get ready for this evening.

You had to rush because you hadn’t been keeping on an eye on the time and you hated yourself for it because you wanted to take your time to get ready and actually feel good for once and whenever you tend to rush you always end up not liking your makeup and then your mood gets ruined but you were convinced no one can ruin your mood because you were off to see your bestfriend and that put you in a good mood.

You were originally going to get a taxi but Mason being the gentleman he is offered to drop you off which worked for you but you didn’t want to bother him because of his long day at training.

You think you actually screamed when you saw Sid, running up to hug her which you hadn’t done in almost two weeks, you felt emotional being reunited again. No one told you how hard it was going to be with now a long distance bestie.

You caught up on each others gossip, on what you had missed and catching up on daily life.

When the two of you were younger you both dreamed of being a footballers girlfriend, you don’t know why but the thought of it sounded so appealing,

“Toast to our younger selves who would be so proud of us right now.” Sid said, putting both of your glasses up to raise a toast. Which you cheered to, for once you felt happy about where you were in life right now. The fact that both you and Sid were happy together made the feeling even more special.

We were both where we needed to be in life and you were so glad.

yourusername added to their story

Dinners with my girl @sid.vii 🥰🤭

sid.vii replied to your story: I love and miss you already ☹️💘

-> a few hours wasn’t enough. I love you and miss you loads 😩💕

masonmount replied to your story: the two of you are trouble when you’re together. p.s you look beautiful 🤩

-> 😉 love you 💘

sanchooo10 replied to your story: you look beautiful! 😻

-> Thank you!

You and Sid had shared a taxi back to her hotel before the driver made another stop to take you back home. It was originally your intention for her to stay at yours and masons shared house, but she was being a bit stubborn and booked a hotel room in the hotel for the two nights instead of staying at your house. She had a train booked back to London early morning so you didn’t want to stay out too late either because both of you loved your sleep too much.

You didn’t know when you’d see her again and you hated the circumstances for being this way but you were also grateful that Mason was happy and that’s all that mattered to you. You can’t lie, you felt a little emotional saying goodbye to her, even you’d text every second of the day, there was nothing like seeing your friends in real life.

You smiled at her interaction at your story. Although you found it weird that Jadon had replied to your story but brushed it off thinking that he was being friendly with you and replied because you didn’t want to seem rude.

Part of you didn’t know whether to mention this to Mason or not, considering you had an argument about it the other day. You didn’t want to have any arguments today, you just wanted to go home and cuddle with the love of your life.

As soon as you got home all you wanted was Mason, you had missed him even though it was a quarter of the night you hadn’t seen him.

You found him in the living room, curled up on the sofa with a blanket on him, on his phone scrolling while the tv was on in the background not being looked at, just there for the noise. He hadn’t noticed you had come back until you stood in front of him, he peered up to look at you through his lashes, “hey you. You have a good night?” Mason asks while moving the blanket and patting his hand on his knee indicating you to sit on his lap.

You felt yourself go soft at the sight of him, it was quite cold out there so all you wanted to do was to cuddle up against him while you fall asleep in the warmth of his arms around you the whole night.

“I did. it was nice seeing Sid again after two weeks, that seems like a long time I’ve gone without her and it feels weird to say because we are normally joined by the hip,” you said a little deflated as got comfortable on his lap.

“That’s good! As you long you enjoyed yourself baby!” Mason said enthusiastically as he moves your hair to the side leaving your right shoulder bare for him to kiss. You had given him a rundown on what happened the entire evening and he every so often lifted his head up from your neck to kiss your forehead in a soft gesture.

That was until you stopped talking to see he had fallen asleep and because you didn’t want him to ruin his sleep downstairs you gently woke him up, “Mase, go to bed. I’ll be up once I’ve make sure everything’s locked,” you said before getting off his lap and going to the front door to make sure it was locked.

When you had come back to the living room, you’d seen that he had listened and went up to bed, before you went up you went to check all the windows were locked too.

You always had to double check it was locked otherwise god forbid if anything was to happen, the blame would have landed on you. You felt yourself shudder thinking about it.

As you had entered your shared bedroom, you flopped on the bed feeling exhausted after the day you had. Mason was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed.

Once you looked up to see he was done, he was standing there completely shirtless and in boxers, still to this day you never got used to this image that was in front of you. You felt like you were gazing in dreamland, with a a lttle drool coming by the side of your mouth. You didn't realise you had zoned out until he spoke, "take a picture, it will last longer," he winked.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, as you got off the bed to go to the en suite to take off your makeup. You took off your lashes which felt like a relief taking them off, and grabbed your cleansing balm to melt your makeup off, to finally be make up free.

Your phone buzzed which was on the bed where you were laying a few minutes ago, so you told Mason to check it

You and Mason trusted each other with your phones, it’s not like either of you had anything to hide.

His heart had dropped with what he saw. He had a million questions running through his mind right now.

Why was he messaging you?

What were you two speaking about?

He had thought the worst by a single notification.

Mason stayed quiet while his mind was thinking overtime, he was wondering whether to mention this to you or if he should stay silent and wait to see if you say something.

You entered back in the bedroom done with your nighttime routine, getting into bed where Mason was sat, his head resting on the headboard.

“Who was the notification from?” You asked him as you got comfortable in your bed. He didn’t respond, he just handed you the phone with an unimpressed expression. You just looked down to see that Jadon had liked your message.

“Oh,” you mumble silently

“Did you forget to tell me or were you even planning on telling me? I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Mase, you’re overreacting! If you looked at the messages you’d realise it’s nothing!” You raise your voice a little because you were tired of arguing over the same thing.

“Oh? I’m overreacting? Me!!” Mason matches the same tone as yours.

“C’mon Mase, actually read the messages,”

“No, I’ve seen what I’ve needed to, that’s enough!”

You try to hand your photo to him while unlocking your phone to show him the full chat, but he wasn’t having it. He pushed your arm away. He had to exhale before he said the next sentence.

“Listen if you don’t want to be with me, you can just tell me outright. You don’t have to go behind my-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” You interrupted him. You were tired of going round in circles and ending up in the same place. You thought after yesterday he would’ve understood that you only want him.

“Do I need to prove how much I love you? If I didn’t I wouldn’t have wanted to start a new life with you up here, moving with you.”

There it was again

Bringing up the move constantly after every argument.

He looked at you deep in the eye, eyes filled with tiredness and anger, not only he was tired about having to argue about this whole situation about million times but he also felt insecure every time this was brought up.

“Do you need to fucking bring up the move every time? I’m so grateful that you moved up here with me but I don’t need you throwing that comment in my face every time. As well as you i’ve left everything back in London too. You don’t need to make this about you 24/7!!” Mason snapped

He regretted that comment right after it was said, he got off the bed and rushed looking for his top.

“I need fresh air, I’m going for a walk to clear my mind.” Mason says rushing out of the bedroom quickly putting his top on, by the time you were about to speak, it was almost too late as you heard a loud slam from the door.

He always thought you were almost too perfect to be with him. Out of his league. Thinking that you could do so much better than him. He had trauma and doubts from his previous relationship, which was what left him with the doubts.

He felt the cold breeze of air hit him while he took a walk around his quiet estate. He didn’t know where he was walking but he just carried on to see where his feet take him.

Remembering what went wrong in his previous relationship to help save this one, he felt like your relationship was failing and the last thing he wanted to do was to lose you.

You meant the world to him and he couldn’t risk losing you and he was so appreciative that you wanted to move up with him, but he didn’t need you constantly nagging at him like you’ve done a massive favour.

It doesn’t count as a favour when it’s for the people you love

Even thinking about it made him feel sick

It was about three years ago when he met his ex Molly, which he met at a club, mistaking her for someone else. They had hit it off straightaway. During the night Mason thought that he had found his partner for life already, which was obviously wrong but he had the wrong first impressions of her.

They had decided to go out for a date and take it from there to see how it goes. It went great, or so he thought.

He decided to give this girl a chance as she seemed genuine and didn’t seem like the girl to fuck about.

Look can be deceiving

It was about 3 months into the relationship, it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. In fact it wasn’t at all. During the first month he noticed on his free days she’d rather spend time with her girl mates and if that wasn’t an option she’d make some sort of excuse.

She was in for one thing only

Fame

Molly obviously knew who Mason was the second they started talking, her and her friends and come up with a cunning plan. All Molly wanted to become was an influencer, so she took the chance and took it. She thought if she’d act like she’s interested in him, it would get her the followers she’d need and then once she’d have enough, she’d come up with a sob story to say this isn’t working.

In her little world things were going well for her until one afternoon Mason was home earlier than she had expected and the night before she had stayed over his after a night out because it was closer to him. Once Mason had stepped into his house, he was eager to see his girlfriend. They were in the ‘honeymoon’ stage so they are bound to be excited, well at least one of them.

As soon as he got closer to his bedroom door where Molly was, he heard her over the phone talking to one her friends what it sounded like. “Yeah babe, he won’t find anything out. Bless him he thinks I actually like him,” that was the sentence that broke him.

Molly’s true intentions were revealed and he hated how he fell into this trap.

Once Mason had found out what Molly’s plans were, he wasted no time in telling her to get the fuck out of his house and his life.

To say Mason was devastated was an understatement, he kept thinking about how he lets people in so easily, this whole situation got him feeling shit and insecure.

He promised himself that he wouldn’t trust someone so easily again.

However no matter how shit his past was, he should've never treated you like that. He made a promise to not let his insecurities get to the better of him. No matter how bad the situation is and you two should just talk like grown adults you are. He knew you were tired of this bullshit too.

This late night walk did his mind wonders, he saw a Tesco nearby and decided to pop in to get you some flowers to help lighten the mood as you both didn’t help by all the shouting. Sometimes leaving your mind alone to think works magic and gives you time to reflect on what you both could’ve said to handle the situation better, but in this heat of the moment things get said which you both regret.

As he walked into the shared house, he rushed upstairs with the flowers in his hand ready to give them to you, he was praying that you hadn’t gone to sleep because he was told not to sleep on an argument as the next day wasn’t guaranteed.

He walked into to your shared bedroom only to be met with an empty bed. There was only one other place he thought you could be.

The guest bedroom

In previous house together, whenever the two of you would get into a heated argument, Y/N would always go to the guest bedroom indicating that she needs space before the argument gets pretty ugly.

And that’s exactly what she needed tonight

He couldn’t blame you

He needed to stop letting his past get to him so easily, just because one person made him feel easy doesn’t mean that you’d be the same. In fact he knew you wouldn’t do the same.

Maybe he needed to tell you to help overcome the doubts that he had and that it would make you understand why he’s like this.

After Mason had left furiously, slamming the door behind, you had guilt inside of you. You should’ve told him even if it was a minor thing, you didn’t want to be the one that kept secrets from him.

You wanted him to trust you

But also him accusing you of talking to other people when you’re happier than you’ve ever been with him deeply hurt you because you had thought better of him, and you didn’t think he’d stoop that low to accuse you of something like that.

Both of you were in the wrong

You needed to find a way to communicate with each other better.

You went to sleep in the guest bedroom, you thought it would the best thing you both needed, just a night alone away from each other to clear each others minds

Sleep wasn’t coming easy to you, you were tossing and turning every few minutes, your mind at unease because you wanted to know where Mason was, ‘when’s he coming back?’

These questions didn’t stop spiralling in your head, you began to overthink as time went on, such as ‘what if he’s had enough and wants to break up with you?’ which then went to ‘you don’t know how to manage life without him’

It sounds stupid but you didn’t know how to cope without him

It wasn’t long until tears started forming in the corner of your eyes, the more you imagined life without him you convinced yourself that wouldn’t ever heal. Tears now rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow.

A short while after your little breakdown, the guestroom door creaked opened and you obviously it’s going to be Mason so you pretended to be asleep but Mason knew you too well, he knew well enough that you weren’t asleep.

Mason crouched down to the side you were sleeping on, he noticed the dried tear tracks on your face straight away, he hated seeing you upset anyway but knowing he possibly made you cry broke his heart.

He didn’t ever want to be the reason for your tears and he promised you from the start that he’ll always keep you happy but he had failed you.

The flowers now sitting on the bedside table unnoticed. Mason pushed your hair out of your face ever so gently, caressing your cheek.

“C’mon baby, I know you’re not sleep. I think you forget I know you too well.” He chuckled a little to ease the tension

You smiled lightly at his comment and fluttered your eyes open, meeting your eyes with his beautiful lust eyes. He smiled at the sight of you “there’s my beautiful girl.”

You couldn’t help but blush almost forgetting about what happened in the last hour.

“I think we should talk,” Mason’s tone sounded desperate, he felt sorrowful. Your heart had dropped on the tone of his voice, you thought this was it.

He’s going to break up with you.

Mason noticed your mood change when he spoke, he got himself from the crouched position and sat himself on the side of the bed gently moving your legs so he could sit properly and comfort you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, pulling you up and embracing you with his arms around you. “Nothing” your voice had cracked, as you weren’t sure if you could say more without crying. You hid yourself in his neck, your shaking shoulders gave it away, he clung onto you tighter rubbing your back to comfort you.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He spoke softly kissing the side of your head every now and then

“Don’t leave me,” you thought you were overreacting but you didn’t know what he was going to come out with.

“Where has that come from? What makes you think I’m going to leave you? Do you know how much you mean to me? I could never live a day without you, you’re my forever baby,” he felt himself choke on the last sentence, even thinking about leaving made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you want to talk to me about then?” You sniffed, feeling stupid that he wanted to speak to you about something else, making a fool out of yourself for no reason.

“I wanted to tell you something. The main reason why I have doubts and feel insecure when you’re talking to other men. I know I shouldn’t have any right to say anything when you don’t have any problem with me talking to women. It should work both ways, so this is fair.”

As he took a deep breath, he recounted the story of how he met Molly and how things went down from the beginning to the end. To say that you were angry would be a major understatement. How could somebody even have the audacity to be so blatant about treating someone like this? It had angered you to find out that she had treated your man in such a way. Your anger was bubbling up inside of you, but on your face was a soft expression as you were trying to comfort him, as you could tell it was still hurting him. It’s like he was traumatised by this and you couldn’t blame him.

This girl seemed like a massive bitch by her actions, if you had ever crossed paths with her you would make sure she be sorry for being a bitch. You were deeply hurt the fact that she made Mason feel like this.

“Every time I look at you, I just think god I must have done something right to gain an angel like you, I don’t deserve you.” Mason’s voice cracked, trying to blink away the tears and it tore you apart seeing him like this. He’s been through enough already.

“Woah, you gotta stop there bub. Don’t you dare say anything bad about yourself, because you’re truly the best thing that happened to me. I’m so grateful Sid managed to drag me out of the house and go to the match otherwise we wouldn’t have crossed paths. You have a heart of gold, you’re so self less. You put other people first when it should be the other way babe. Put yourself first! People who take advantage of you don’t deserve in the fucking slightest. If I ever meet this bitch she’d better run because she doesn’t know what’s coming. I’d have to get the big guns out,” you tried to lighten the situation and it worked because he gave you a smile that will always make you weak in the knees.

“I think even if you didn’t go to the match we would’ve still found our way to each other because we’re meant to be. You are my forever,” he says ever so proudly with his eyes twinkling.

“I love you!”

“I love you too, so much!”

The two of you spent a few minutes appreciating each others presence in comfortable silence, placing a few kisses on each other. It was only then you realised the flowers that were sitting on the bedside table, you looked at him in surprise, “you got these for me?” you questioned.

“Oh shit I forgot to give you them,” he slapped his forehead in playful manner which made you giggle. “But yes I did baby, it’s been a while since I got you flowers,” you heart warmed at the gesture.

“Just when I thought I couldn’t get anymore luckier,” you blushed. Mason just smiled, giving you a kiss on the lips as a response.

You two spent the whole night like that, curled up with your head on his chest while his hands rested under your shirt, his fingers stoking up and down your stomach.

Holding each other close the whole night.

It had been a few days since that night and you were going out tonight Mason and his teammates.

Over the last few days, you two just decided to get off whatever was on your chest so you two could start fresh with the move and everything.

You had agreed to block Jadon too, after what Mason told you what he said to him the other night. You didn’t feel comfortable talking to him anymore.

Tonight he was going to be there too which is going to be awkward but with Mason by your side you’re sure you’ll get through it.

So here you were, sat in a dim restaurant waiting for the food you ordered a few minutes ago. Mason placed his hand on your thigh and you didn’t think much of it until it had started wandering up your thighs and under your dress. “Keep quiet,” he whispered, smiling innocently giving the impression that you two were talking about something ordinary.

“Mason, behave,” you replied, glaring at him slightly as your cheeks heat up at the feeling of his fingertips on your inner thigh.

“Seeing as he can’t keep his eyes off you, he deserves to know what’s mine and what he’ll only ever dream off,” Mason said with a smirk on his face.

It was evident to a bird that Jadon had his eyes on you since you walked in with Mase, at first glance you thought it was a friendly thing but the more you saw him glancing at you the more you felt slightly uncomfortable. You were grateful to have Mason by your side even though he was good at teasing you.

He began touching you through the fabric of your underwear, gently pressing his hand against your groin, which made you flinch and if you hadn’t been in public, you would’ve gasped.

Mason turned back to his teammates, engaging in their conversation while acting like nothing happened. The moment he pushed your underwear to the side and started rubbing your clit in circular motions you reflexively clenched your legs together, but Mason was quick to spread your legs again.

You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth, trying your hardest to hold back a moan when he inserted two fingers and slowly pumped them in and out while caressing your clit with his free fingers. He kept doing this at a steady slow pace that he knew drove you crazy every time he chose to give you an even more intense feeling by not speeding it up like you wanted.

Just when it was getting even more difficult to not make a sound, Mason directed a question at you, knowing full well that you weren’t able to speak without making ungodly noises that would get you all kicked out from this restaurant before you even got your food. You glared at your boyfriend because he knew what he was doing and it was frustrating you, if only you could let him have his way with you right here.

Mason smirked and continued moving his fingers around your clit, speeding up just a little, “ Are you okay, Y/N?” Luke asked slightly worried.

You simply nodded and forced yourself to smile, pretty sure that if you spoke now, you couldn’t pull yourself together. Since Mason started, he didn’t shown any sign of excitement or shame whatsoever, joking around with his teammates like everything was normal, as if he wasn’t fingering you under the table. He curled his fingers to massage your sensitive spot, all while keeping a straight face.

You breathing got heavier as you were getting closer and closer to your climax, but all of a sudden Mason pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging before you could reach your orgasm. The moment you realised he wasn’t going to finish you off, you reached down, ready for the job yourself, but grabbed your wrist and gave you an assertive look, silently telling you to wait.

You cleared your throat before excusing yourself from the table, squeezing your thigh to signal him to follow you inconspicuously, pushing your chair back to stand up and walking in direction to the bathrooms.

A few minutes later, he came in with a cheeky grin on his face after he closed the door behind him. You crashed your lips into his, kissing him forcefully as you couldn’t wait anymore.

“Fucking finish what you started,” you muttered as you broke away. Mason kneeled on the floor, pushing your underwear down and pushing your dress up so he can get a full view of you.

He grips you by the hips and then cranes his neck forward to kiss and lick between your thighs, tongue gliding between the folds of your pussy, in a way that makes you ache for him even more desperately.

You pull him up to stand, so you can reach for his jeans, unbuckling that belt and zipper without breaking eye contact. His arms are on the wall behind you, caging you in and he’s smirking. You know how much he loves this, having you undress him.

Once your hands are free, he emerged forward, his body pressing you against the sink, “turn around for me, bub. It’s going to be hard and fast, just like you need it. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” you say eagerly

You shiver as you feel and hear him take himself into his hand, he spits on his cock and then there’s the wet, push and pull sound of him jerking himself off. It gives you goosebumps. You widen your stance, trying to balance yourself on your heels, and he presses a soothing hand against your back to keep you still as he slides inside of you in one smooth movement.

Oh my god. You want to scream in relief. He feels so much deeper from this angle. Heavier. Bigger. Like you can feel him in your stomach.

Mason's hand clings to yours as he bends you over in front of the sink, his fingers grasping your knuckles while he bends you over, holding on to your knuckles. From this angle, you feel impossibly full.

He kisses the naked skin of your back and throat where your dress is exposed, you grin meeting his face in the mirror.

His hands don’t stop, constantly groping your breasts. His mouth hot and wet on your neck.

Your eyes flutter close, you love how low his voice gets when he’s this deep. It feels good. Feels like someone is touching you from inside out, being with him is consuming. You want him. All of him. All the time. Everywhere.

“Feels so good, Mase,” you whimper as you grind back against him, your skin singing with relief at finally feeling satisfied.

When you finally open your eyes you moan again at the sight of Mason reflected back on the glass in front of you. He’s leaving indents on your skin, hickey that you’ll worry about in the morning. The best part is watching him fuck you.

He looks beautiful, sliding his tongue over his mouth, biting into his lips as he loses himself in staring at how your pussy and his cock work together. Watching himself disappear inside of you with each stutter and thrust of his hips. When he looks up to find you staring at him through the reflection, he smiles so wide and so soft that it makes you tighten around him.

“Mase,” you whimper, wanting to say more but your words got caught in your throat. He feels unbelievably good.

He gathers you closer and sneaks his fingers into the space between your thighs and starts rubbing your swollen clit with two fingers. Your elbows almost losing their balance when touching you, the sensation makes you feel like your knees could buckle.

“Oh my god! Mase-”

“You gonna cum for me baby? Gonna coat my cock with your cum?”

“Yes, only for you Mase!”

You felt a stinging sensation on your scalp where he reaches to tug on your hair. Your spine has no choice but to arch back. The best kind of pain.

“I’m going to make you come so hard, but you need to stay with me okay, angel?” You grit your teeth on a particularly hard thrust.

“I need you to come for me,” Mason says, desperately wanting to feel you cum for him.

Your body obeys him before your mind can think, you’re so weak for him, your shoulders are shaking from the effort of not trying to scream his name.

Mason grips your face gently, as if he could recognise how torn you feel. “That’s it baby. My good girl. Did so well for me angel. Gonna make me come too.”

“Yes! Come for me Mase, I want to feel it-”

And that’s what always does it.

You begging him. He can never resist the ache in your voice. He moans into your mouth as he lets himself go. You talk him through it too, telling how much you love him, how good he looks when he comes, how you wanna feel it deep. His cock is pulsing when he’s done and how he lets go of your lips as his neck rolls back and tries catching his breath. His release settling inside you that makes you feel soothed.

“Fucking hell,” he laughs, sinking his weight onto you, loving the feeling of him against your back. “I’m so glad you’re mine. I get to fuck you for the rest of my life, how lucky am I?” Mason chuckles.

“You tease, and yet I thought you loved me for my brain,” you turned around to place your head on his chest and hugged him.

“Oh believe me I love that too! You don’t understand how sexy is when you turn into a sexy know it all,” Mason winks, placing his head in the crook of your neck, kissing it innocently.

You roll your eyes at his comment. “Come on, let’s go before they suspect anything,” you try to push him off but he wasn’t letting you go. “Masonnnn,” you groan longing out his name. “Fine, but gimme a kiss first,” you roll your eyes at his neediness. You gave into him and you should’ve known he was going to push this kiss deeper than intended. You pull away, “uh uh that’s enough mister,” he gives you a fake sad expression but you weren’t falling for that. He leaned in again but you moved your head so instead his lips met your cheek. He gave you a pout, “Listen if he start again now, we’re never going to stop. I’ll give you what you want when we’re home.”

Instantly his mood changed into a quirkier mood. He grabbed your hand and led you out of the bathroom, “We’re going home,” his pace started to get faster but you suddenly stopped him in the middle of the hall way, “what about your teammates? it’s a bit rude if we leave now,” you said not wanting to leave half way through as it seemed rude.

Mason placed a finger to lips “shh. I’ll just tell them you were being sick or something and speaking of rudeness, wasn’t it rude when you were begging me to fuck you under the table while my teammates were there?” He cockily said, smirking.

Well that certainly shut you up

“That’s what I thought.” He continued his pace until he reached the table you had sat at. “Sorry guys, but we have to go. Y/n’s not feeling well, she just threw up in the toilets,” you wanted to laugh at how much of a good liar he is but you couldn’t otherwise that would have ruined your ‘evening plans’

They all looked at you with a sympathetic look in their eyes clearly believing Mason. You found it hard enough to keep a straight face and when they all looked at you, you wanted to start laughing but you needed to hold them in

Marcus started off saying “Mate don’t be sorry, you’ve got priorities! We completely understand!!” He said enthusiastically following along with the others who were agreeing. You all said your goodbyes and Mason was eager enough to get out of this restaurant.

You reached the car park walking to his car that he had pushed you against as he pulled you close and your lips met in a passionate kiss that seemed to last forever, completely oblivious of the fact that you were in public.

Mason pulled away, “As much as I’d love to do this, we have to remember we’re in public and I really don’t want to wake up to the sun articles saying ‘Mason Mount was caught snogging his girlfriends face off’. I can just picture it” You laughed at him mocking the sun articles which would probably most likely be true.

“I promise to fuck you until you see the stars tonight,” he promises with a wink as he kisses one last time. Now you are eager to get home to see Mason obey what he promised you.

Mason had found the quicker route home, while you couldn’t keep his hands off him. Him speeding because he couldn’t wait to touch you, making love to you the whole night.

You were in for a night of fun ahead of you..

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omagpies · 8 days ago

Note

hey have you considered a potential curlayna child wanting to be an astronaut and the both of them nearly have a heart attack... kthxbai

okay your ask sparked a conversation between me and @cyanidecrystal so here goes:

(slightly recolored james mcavoy faceclaim lmaooo) this is Yuri, they/them;

(sidenote: this drawing is retroactively about baby yuri now)

they grow up only knowing a very, very sanitized version of what happened on the tulpar; while PE had no finances to cover up the story, the company producing the ships did, so even the initial splash of news was quickly suppressed and only remains as sporadic bits free floating in the infosphere. curlanya only tell them the bare bones of it, but since their family relationships are solid, yuri sees no reason not to take their word for it.

what does win is curiosity, and yuri does end up trying to dig things up just to know more about their family. the blurry, low res picture of post-crash curly they manage to find is written off as either one of the dead crew members, or perhaps even something generated by AI.

as a child, yuri already proudly declares that they are going to become an astronaut; curly and anya by then still haven't set foot in a spaceship or even a plane, so they sweat nervously but ascribe it more to a childhood whim (i'm going to be an astronaut AND a president AND a garbage truck driver)

it is not, in fact, a childhood whim

as yuri is growing up, their interest becomes more prominent. curlanya, excellent parents overall, make their first serious blunder and try their best to discourage them from pursuing a career in space

of course, it means that yuri ends up going behind their backs and sneaking off on a short-ish trip (think a jupiter moon, not even leaving the system) as an intern. they text them right before they lose signal, something like 'hey, remember you said you'll make it up for me for not letting me go on that school trip? (it involved a transcontinental flight) i've got it covered now so no worries, see you in a week!'

someone on the trip recognizes yuri's last name, asks if they are related to curly. yuri is surprised by this, deeply unaware that curly had a solid reputation as a captain and a pilot back in the day.

the trip ends up taking a little longer. during it, yuri sustains a minor injury for reasons of being a goober. something benign like a mild burn or a blackeye, so they come back wearing a temporary eye patch and supremely chuffed about finally looking at least a little like dad

curlanya do not react well. they don't yell or anything, but they are Weird, and it's not the reaction yuri was expecting. they don't know how on earth this is such a big deal to them.

(meanwhile, curlanya are severely triggered by literally everything about this and are in the process of discovering that all the trauma they thought to have processed has not, in fact, been fully processed, and their kid is now making them face it on hard mode)

they do end up having an argument about it. yuri is upset and offended and says some things they probably shouldn't, like 'just because you had an accident doesn't mean i will, and you're fine anyway!' (in their defence, everything happened so long ago, and curly's had years to recover by now)

perhaps they even say something like 'i'd rather get into a crash than stay at home doing nothing like you'

yuri is forbidden from sneaking away again, so of course that's what they do.

this time, however, when someone asks them if they know curly, the person ends up telling them a fuller story of what happened. with a fresh and exciting degree of understanding of why their parents are Like That, yuri is forced to sit with their feelings until the trip is over. forced to think over all the jabs they'd thrown their parents' way because they didn't understand.

after that second trip, the three of them finally sit down to have an honest conversation. curlanya still omit some details (like anya's assault), but since yuri really does want to work in space, it's time for them to reckon with their paranoia. their trauma must not define the life of their child.

yuri asks curly how he'd lived. curly smiles and says that he doesn't know either, yuri would have to ask their mother about that.

from then on, they learn to support yuri. whatever breakdowns they have, happen when it's just the two of them.

curlanya are both emotionally involved parents, but this is where curly becomes a little more closed off and lets anya take the reins. he doesn't want to bombard their kid with his problems, so he sticks more to logistics.

(for example, obsessively looking up every crew member of every trip yuri goes on. no background goes unchecked)

eventually, yuri invites them to come on board the ship they're now working on. after much hesitation, curlanya agree. curly is allowed into the cockpit (recognized by name if not by face) and reckons with the strange mix of nostalgia and despair. the equipment is just different enough to not send him into a fully blown flashback, but he does have to make his excuses and go hyperventilate in the bathroom.

it's a real moment of growing up for yuri, when they goes to find their father and see him so helpless. it's a gradual process, a series of 'god, i never knew it was this hard for you guys to accept this'

the more they understand that, the more they, too, understand how much their parents love them and how much their support costs them

still, learning more about the accident doesn't pass without a trace for yuri. for a while, they are uncertain if this is what they really want to do. ('i think i saw a picture of you after the crash. tell me it was a fake')

anya wins that day. her trauma wasn't as obvious to strangers, wasn't gawked at or paraded like curly's. it's easier for her to think rationally about this. and after all of it, she wants yuri to chase their dream

(maybe yuri even writes a resignation letter for their company and tells anya about it. after their heart to heart, anya tells curly, and he calls the company and tells them not to process it just yet. yuri stays on the roster.)

eventually, of course, the cat is out of the bag, and someone callous enough to bring it up asks yuri about the assault and if they are a result of it.

deeply distraught, yuri doesn't immediately clock that the math doesn't math. all they can think of is that they might be the child of their mother's assailant. that curly might not be their father.

they come with it to curlanya, and that's when they finally show yuri a picture of curly from before the crash.

yuri has always thought they took after their mother in pretty much everything except eye color. now, they find a blond version of themself looking back at them, and it feels like coming home.

#mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #curlanya #yuri the curlanya kid

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whoopsyeahokay · 8 months ago

Text

October Sun

summary: you'd known that Simon wasn't okay since it had been announced that they'd found blood in the boiler room. his pain, his hurt, his loss had spilled out from him and into you and you'd had no clue how to handle it. and then suddenly, you'd been soothed, and all you'd been able to think of had been getting to the source of that comfort and giving thanks.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.8

Wally couldn't stop thinking about earlier. How the slopes and arches of your body fit against him like a puzzle piece. How malleable you'd been under his touch. The intense liquid heat that had thrummed between you both as he'd leaned in to kiss you; heartbeats synchronized, eyes fluttering closed, utterly surrendered to the sensation.

He'd kissed a few girls when he'd been alive. Hell, he'd made out with Dawn a handful of times when adrenaline and hormones had needed an outlet. None of those experiences held a candle to what he'd felt when he'd just barely brushed his lips to yours.

There was something underneath it all. Not just his attraction to you, which he'd harbored for going on two years now. Something else. Something mystical and big and unleashed. Maybe you already knew what it was. After all, you could reach through the veil, hear and see and feel Wally...maybe you had an explanation.

If only the connection between you and Wally hadn't made it practically impossible to finish a conversation.

"Where'd you go, superstar?"

Wally nearly jumped in surprise, having forgotten he wasn't alone. He glanced around, saw Katelynn—the courtyard fatality—and Ajay studying him as intently as Rhonda. They were in the kitchen piling a late lunch of leftovers onto their plates while, around them, the staff muddled through their end-of-day breakdown.

"Uh," Wally supplied, intelligently. He was a miserable liar, something Rhonda had teased him for mirthlessly in the past. Told him he was as easy to read as 3rd grade English (ouch). But he didn't take his promises lightly and knew he had to come up with something or Rhonda would grill him until he broke. Deflection it was, "Do you think Maddie had a good time?"

Rhonda, perched primly on a counter, rolled her eyes and plucked a bread roll from the bin one of the staff was about to seal. "Jesus, you really are ditzy for her, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that," Wally said. He really wouldn't, "I just want her to—"

"Confess her undying love? Make you the center of her universe and forget all about her dreamy, badboy ex?" Rhonda scoffed, "Hate to break it to you, hot stuff, but you'd just be a rebound and we all know how those end."

"Badly?" Katelynn guessed. Having been fourteen when she'd kicked the bucket, she'd likely never had the chance to explore the intricacies of romance. Or of all its thorns.

Rhonda's hands clamped and then bloomed in front of her as she vocalized a bomb exploding.

"No, Rhonda, that's not it," Wally spoke in long strokes, as if to a child, willing away a flash of irritation. "What I was gonna say was that I want her to know there's more to being dead than trying to solve your own murder." Since, after all was said and done, there'd be nothing left to do besides passively haunt Split River High.

And that shit got dull after a semester or two.

Unexpectedly, "I spoke to her today." Rhonda admitted, somewhat reluctant, as the group paraded from the kitchen into the cafeteria. Wally encouraged her to continue with a smile, "About how I died. She thought it could help, so..." She slid into her regular seat next to Wally, eyes fixed on her plate, "I guess it did because she took off after."

It was obvious that relinquishing even that morsel of information made her uncomfortable, shoulders curled to her ears and lips pursed, those metaphorical walls re-erecting.

Wally clapped her on the back, "You did good, Deadly." A fond nickname he used sparingly as it often earned him an elbow to the ribs.

This time, Rhonda simply glared a warning at him before tearing a piece off her bread roll and smearing it through the gravy on Wally's plate. Progress, he supposed.

To move the conversation away from Rhonda, Wally engaged Katelynn, "I saw you with the extinguisher today."

Katelynn grinned through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"You know what we should do next time? We get those chairs with the wheels, a couple of fire extinguishers..." He mimed the scene with fervor, grinning conspiratorially between the others, "We could do it in the gym. Take bets. See who goes farthest. It would be awesome!"

Rhonda patted his knee twice—thank you—under the table. How she displayed gratitude without being obvious. As discreetly as possible, Wally returned the gesture, tapping three times to indicate I've got you.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Somehow, you'd done it: graduated to the end of the school day without incident. Sure, Mathilda had given you a funny look when you'd made your excuses to stay behind, but she'd been too distracted by what pieces to include in her portfolio to cross-examine you about it.

"Text me later, sillybean!" She called over her shoulder as she, Hana, and Lucas exited the school.

The siblings waved in unison, Hana pirouetting and blowing you a kaleidoscope of exaggerated kisses before falling back into step with her brother.

You turned back to your locker, shoving in your backpack and your uncle's hoodie. You'd accepted that the connection between you and Wally quashed any attempt you made to hide from him; berated yourself for not realizing it sooner.

After you'd closed the door and slipped the lock back into place, you mustered your courage and turned toward the direction of the theater. You could do this. Without getting sidetracked.

Yeah, you believed that about as much as you believed the lunchroom bread rolls were 'made fresh' everyday.

A metallic clamor caught your attention before you'd even stepped a foot forward, causing you to hesitate. Down several lockers along the row, Simon shook his lock against the hasp furiously. He was unmistakably upset, jaw tight, vibrating with unfettered anger.

You approached him just as he kicked the locker below his.

"Here," You said, inserting yourself between Simon and his locker, "What's the combo?"

Without pause, "8-37-15," he recited through gritted teeth.

You dialed the combination, unhooked the lock and held it out for Simon to take.

"You okay?" You asked, already aware of the answer.

"Yes." Simon lied then abruptly changed his mind, "No. I don't know." He dumped his bag at his feet and rummaged through the contents of his locker only to give up and spin around. Propped against the closed bottom level, Simon ran his hands through his hair roughly, reminding you of someone with responsibility that outweighed their experience.

"What's going on, Si?"

He lifted his head, brow creased with despair, "Aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

The question knocked you for six. Unsure if it was rhetorical, you chose to stay quiet and, sure enough, Simon expounded. "Aren't friends supposed to tell each other things, even if it's hard? Even if they think it might hurt? Because, at the end of the day, you chose that person to be there for you no matter what. And that person chose you right back."

No questions asked. Your voice overlapped with Xavier's, years worth of emotional petitions for comfort and unbiased support echoing in your head.

Thinking of your friend, you wondered, "Is this about Nicole leaving with Xavier after lunch?"

Simon seemed surprised by the news, yet, after a second, confirmed, "Yeah. Uh, yeah, it's about that."

He stared at his feet, arms folded tightly across his middle, chewed his lip as he pondered what he wanted to disclose. Finally, "I just want to be there for her, but it's like she won't let me. And it sucks." His voice was damp with pain. "And now she's pissed and she's shut me out and...I don't know what to do."

When he raised his head again, you almost choked on the sorrow in his eyes. You wanted to hug him, hold him, cry. Here was a boy whose best friend had, for all intents and purposes, left him behind, and now he was scared he'd lost someone else.

The mounting sadness radiating from Simon made your eyes sting. You had no clue how to comfort him, not like you did Xavier or Mathilda, the two people you'd chosen and who'd chosen you back.

The strength of secondhand emotion chipped away at you, threatened to shatter you into a thousand anguished pieces, but just as you thought you would break, a familiar warmth sunk into the cracks. The sensation blossomed upward and concentrated behind your ribs, loosening a deep breath of relief.

Absently, you shifted your hand the slightest bit away from where it rested against your thigh, the movement undetectable unless one was looking for it. The warmth grew, contented and safe, and then—a whisper of fingertips across the back of your hand, there and gone.

You didn't move, kept your gaze on Simon; simply waited for Wally to enter your periphery. His back was to you, his hand returning to his jacket pocket as he, Rhonda, and a couple of others walked toward the end of the hall. You vaguely saw him split from the rest of the group, Wally going left while the other three went right.

Simon swallowed, mournful, and he rasped, "What do I do?"

Invigorated by Wally's touch, you planted yourself in front of Simon, placed your hands on his shoulders, and urged him to, "Talk to her. People knock communication like it's some cringe cliché, but it's the best way to resolve things." He nodded, weak but resolute, and you dragged him into a hug. "Trust me," You said, "Just be honest and listen. You don't have to understand everything, you just have to accept it."

Simon chuckled wetly, squeezed you tighter for an instant before releasing you.

"Thanks."

"Any time." And you meant it in your bones. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Simon said, scrubbing the back of his wrist over his eyes, "I'll be fine." He cleared his throat, "Listen, um, I forgot something in the cafeteria, but if you want to wait I could give you a ride home."

Something in his tone suggested the offer was halfhearted, though you appreciated it all the same.

"Nah, it's cool. I have to study." You replied, already positioning yourself to leave. Simon didn't mention that the library was in the other direction, merely flashed you a small, grateful smile.

"See you tomorrow." He saluted.

Free to excuse yourself, you found you had to fight the desire to go go go, hurry, go, that warm sensation purring louder the closer you got to the theater. Fuck making sure the coast was clear, you were supposed to be in there right now; swung the door open with probably a lot more force than necessary.

Wally, who had been sitting on the edge of the stage awaiting your arrival, hopped down as soon as you entered the darkened space, his gaze instantly locking with yours.

One dubious step, two, three, and the warmth fizzled and licked inside you, encouraging your pace to quicken, faster, nearer. You broke into a run, closing the distance, Wally's stare never wavering. With less than a foot remaining, you sprung up, body colliding into his. He caught you easily, held you in his arms with one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist.

No thoughts, no words, no inhibitions; fever-hot and eager; Wally's jaw in your palms, you surged forward and pressed your lips to his.

💀___________________________

PART SEVEN - PART NINE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #October Sun

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honey-minded-hivemind · 8 months ago

Text

🌙Silent Night🦋 AU... Part One:

(Warning: This AU depicts abuse, self-harm, self-mutilation, unhealthy mindsets, guilty platonic yanderes, and platonic yanderes. If this upsets you or is not your cup of tea, do not read. Viewer discretion is advised...)

• They aren't sure when it started. When the others started to dislike them, to get angry with them, to see them as less than them. Maybe it was from the start, when they had optimism and were bright-eyed and were full of love and empathy. Maybe it was when their views didn't align with the others anymore, when they couldn't agree with them no matter what they said was right or just. Maybe it was just their natural way of acting, and they finally snapped and took it out on them. Whatever the case was, they were soon at odds and ends with them, dealing with the contempt and anger of the ones who they thought they could trust.

• Reader knew their beliefs were... looked down on. They knew that the first time they said they didn't hate humans, that they wanted to make peace with them, that something had changed. And it wasn't for the better. Where once they were allowed to join the other kids, now they were ostracized, cast aside. Where the adults used to include them or care about them, they now were mad, snappish, annoyed whenever Reader spoke up or said anything. Not to mention how no one seemed to like them anymore, seemed to try and talk with them, tried to help them or offer aid or smooth over any fears or doubts.

• But it still only grew worse.

• The problem came when they had helped a human out. Reader hadn't even done much, besides put a band-aid on their leg and hidden them, only leading them back out and bringing them somehwhere safer for them than the woods. Except this secret wasn't so secret, and the next thing Reader knew-

• They were locked up, tossed into a cell and chained, left to rot save for when one of the adults came by to... "re-educate"... them.

• Their life hadn't been long, but Reader soon discovered there were worse fates than death. Being hurt, be it by claws or forced fighting or being held down and bruised, was awful. It hurt even more knowing that it was done by people who once claimed to care about them, to want to help them... But whatever this was that they were doing, it wasn't helping. Was it? The bleeding cuts, the bruised limbs, the sore wings from trying to stay aloft, to get away- Their scratched-up hands, the bloodied nails, the blackened spots that bleed under their skin, turning into ugly shades of purple and black... The one thing that felt untouched was their wings, the only parts that didn't ache with slowly being healed by their body, that didn't become scarred up or marred by the hands that grabbed and clawed and hit and forced down...

• Reader didn't know why it wouldn't stop. Didn't know how much longer it would be until something gave. They should have known it would be their wings that would be the breaking point.

• That memory was faded a bit, their mind blocking out some of it, but what they remembered was another forced fight, running as far as they could before they were yanked back, hands grabbing, something creaking-

• SNAP!

• And soon they were wailing, collapsing into themself and trying to hide, to drag their broken wing over them, using their hands to muffle their sobs as they waited for their attacker/s to finish it... But they didn't. They only stopped, then left, leaving Reader on their own and curled up in the farthest corner of the room, doing their best to not move, grasping at the last threads of comfort they had...

• They'd been still for days. Any food or water left had been ignored, Reader not budging an inch to go near it or to do anything else. It didn't matter when someone eventually came in to check on them, or when hands grasped their wing, feeling at the broken bones and slowly bandaging it, setting up a sling. It didn't even matter when they said Reader could go back up with them, could leave for the first time from their personal h*ll... Yet Reader didn't enjoy this new freedom. It wasn't freedom really, was it? They now had to face the ones who wounded them, those who turned their backs on them, who had put them into their own special kind of h*lll, all because they weren't like them... All because they tried to do the right thing, to help someone, even if that person had been a human...

• Reader didn't keep count of how long it took them to gather the nerve to escape. They knew it had been at least two weeks, if not more... The night they chose was quiet, cold and chilled, soft snowfall dusting the sky and leaving a blanket of freezing white on the ground. No one should have been up. No one should have seen them. Reader had crossed past the farthest edges of the property, making it a few feet into the woods, before they heard someone shout far behind them- Then they fled, scrambling over rocks and slippery patches of ice, hurtling over fallen trees and past ice-covered trunks. Ice glinted under the small amount of moonlight, frosted and gleaming, each shard and icicle and flake as cold as death. Even then, it didn't deter them, not even when they reached a ledge, looking out over a frozen lake, a dark mirror reflecting the darkness and cold of the night, and the smallest glint of the moon...

• "Reader... Don't move." Yet even the quiet eventually was broken, by the same people who'd broken them.

• "Get back here... Now."

• Reader shifted slightly, feeling the way the wind pushed at their wings, soft as silk and cold as the snow underfoot. Their foot goes back, then the other. Fear fills them, burning hot and sticky as tar, melting through any resistance they have, setting ablaze their paranoia and terror, which consumes them.

• "Reader. Come back. NOW!"

• Their foot only slides back by a fraction, yet that's all it takes-

• CRACK!

• The ledge crumbles beneath them, sending them down like a comet crashing to earth, their wings splayed in a futile attempt to slow the fall, then liquid night surrounds them, studded with freezing white stars and sharp crystals, bubbles and frothy pink left in their wake...

• The world around them is silent, wrapped up in snow and bathed in milky light when they awake. The wind brushes against them, sending chills through their half-drowned body. Water gurgled up from their lungs, splattering warm liquid and murky silt onto the frosted, rocky dirt. It doesn't take much more to drag themself up, their wings laid crookedly around them like a fallen cloak, and soon they staggered off into the snow-brushed trees, leaving behind nothing more than frozen anguish and freezing memories...

• They make it far enough as they travel those first few weeks, enough so that they stumble into a worn, wet shed, hiding away from the blinding snowstorm that roars and wails around them. The shed doesn't hold any heat, yet they can't force themself to look for better shelter. What they do find are a sharp, large pair of shears, rusted and cold to the touch. And Reader is struck by a thought, which soon turns to a decision-

• If they ever want to live, to hide amongst people and try to survive... their wings can't stay. Their wing that had been broken was even worse than it was before, possibly unfit for flight ever again... And the other/s isn't /aren't much better, worn and bedraggled. Both are heavy weights on them, useless now... So really... why keep them? Their wings won't be able to help them in any way anymore, and if anyone sees them, they're as good as dead. So with those thoughts in mind... they lift the base of their first wing into the mouth of the shears, and with a swift push and wet crunch-

• Their wing falls to the floor, ebony and garnet gore spattering across the floors and walls, their loss soon followed by a sharp scream... And then the next wing is hefted up, and the small world is soon bathed in red...

• When the snowstorm ends, Reader slowly stumbles out, their shirt torn and new gashes in their back, one less burden weighing them down. It doesn't take them more than an hour to find a small cottage, dusty and worn down, yet still cozy and warm from the harsh winds and frozen slush outside. Dusting off the few couches and chairs, Reader soon settles in, dragging blankets and sheets onto one settled by the small fireplace, curling themself up into the dryness and warmth the soft, fuzzy cloths bring...

• And slowly, they settle into the world around them. They gather nuts and rabbits and mushrooms they find over the next few months, slowly building up stock on the edible fungi and nuts, adding soft pelts and fresh fish as well, and take their findings to the snow-locked town beyond the wintery forest. The people don't ask many questions, aren't very open, but they happily accept the fresh food with little grumbling, paying Reader for what they brought. And then they keep doing it, even hunting small deer and foxes and fish for those who weren't able to reach the stores or catch any themselves... So they slowly start to accept Reader. They don't turn them away or charge them extra for food anymore. They start paying them a little extra for the better pelts and larger meats... Reader even manages to make a small business, bringing food to those trapped by snow and ice, being able to sell or barter shells and stones they pick up from a lake nearby...

• Yet after about three years... Their nightmares come back for them.

• Reader doesn't know how they were found, nor how their demons were the ones to find them, yet somehow, someway, they did... People, the ones they hoped they would never see again, who they wished would go far away, to disappear, were at their cottage. The moment they see them, they try and take a step closer... But Reader swiftly turns heel and runs, heading straight into the freezing woods that surround them.

• They don't stop when they hear shouting, nor when the sound of flapping and footsteps echo behind them. Even as their heart picks up speed and their terror burns through their blood, they don't stop. As the snow whips through the woods, sending frozen flakes falling thickly through the branches, they don't slow down. Their feet are swift, their steps unhalted by wings or doubts. Yet their steps are frozen when they something lands on them, sending them both into the chilling snow all around them.

• Reader struggles, trying to push themself up yet being unable. Hands soon press down on them, pinning them to the frozen earth. "Get off!" Reader yells, bucking and biting at whoever has them in their grasp.

• "Kid, stop fightin' me!" shouts a familiar voice, and Reader feels a new sense of dread fill them, sending them into a panicked flurry. "Kid, please, stop strugglin' fer a minute! Yer gonna hurt yerself-"

• Reader kicks out, soon clawing themself out from under their captor... who is one of their old mentors, one of their past abusers... Another one alights into the slurry of sharp white and biting ice, peering at them with sharp eyes. Reader hisses, backing away carefully, not taking their eyes off of either one for a moment... Then they're whirling around in a snow-dusted blur, scrambling past-

• Only to be caught by strong hands, which pull them back into the scuffed clearing.

• "Cub, just calm down fer a minute-! Ya aren't in danger, yer not gonna be hurt, yer safe-" Reader only screeches, wriggling and scratching at the hands keeping them from their escape. "Shhh, i know, I know, this is all scary an' new an' isn't the best way ta go 'bout this, but ya aren't listening to us-" One of the hands touches their back, then freezes. Soon the person holding them goes still, then their hands are tugging at their shirt, trying to get it off.

• "Get off me! Get off!" Reader screams, fighting harder, only for their other past mentor to hold them still. Something cuts through their shirt, tearing the fabric- And then their back is bare, save for the few bandages that cover their upper chest, showing their scars to the world.

• Something touches at their back, tracing one of the scars... and then the grip on then tightens, panic filling the voices of their captors.

• "Sh*t-! Kid, cub, what is this? What happened? Why- why can't I see yer wings- cub, they-they aren't here, where are they-?"

• Reader feels tears filling their eyes, their stomach twisting at being partially naked and unable to break free. "... I don't have them. Now... get off..."

• "Cub, kid, kitten, what do ya mean? Don't- they- they aren't... they weren't..." He trails off, a soft noise rumbling up. Reader feels another soft, cool touch along their scars, followed by a low whine. "No... nonononono..." The arms and hands are soon wrapped around them, upset noises warbling out like a distressed animal. Reader takes that moment to snap, struggling harder. They're dropped, only to be picked back up and held in a firm embrace. "No, no cub, ya can't leave, yer hurt, yer missing yer-" A strangled noise escapes him, but he continues. "We can't leave ya like this, cub, we can't. Now please, please, stop fightin'... please..."

• Reader only fights harder, scratching and snapping and kicking at the hold on them. A wounded noise escapes one of their captors, then in a moment, something sharp sinks into their arm. Reader freezes up.

• "Shhh... don't worry, 'kay? We just need ya ta calm down... It was only a small sedative, cub, just enough to help ya relax a little... That's it, just take deep breaths..."

• Tears trail down Reader's face, a sob pushing past their lips as they struggle further, shoving and clawing as they try to break loose from the firm embrace. That only earns another wounded noise, leaving Reader weakly hissing. Their head starts to feel clouded, their fear being smoothed out to discomfort. Another hand is carding through their hair, leaving them softly whining. Their thoughts keep slipping through, melting from frozen ice to lake water to soft puddles... They hiss one more time, weakly snapping at whoever... whatever... mmmm... something, that holds them... Their face feels cold and wet... Hrrrmmmmph... They feel all soft and cold and chilly an... hhhhhh... They eyes slip shut, their mind muddling further. Everything feels weird... it's all fluffy and wet and cold... but their back is against something warm, and something warm is on their head, aaaaand their head is feeling weird and syrupy and all sweet... Hhhhhmmmm... Heh.... Sweet and syrupy and honey and molasses and bees and...

• With a last tired sigh, Reader slips into unconsciousness, soon relaxing into the hold on them... The two older ferals can't help but wrap their cub up with one of their coats, trying to keep the already-freezing kid warm. The two trudge back through the thick sheets of snow, tracking down the kids who came with them... They find them still as stones, staring at an old, broken-down shed. They come closer, trying to figure out what's scared them... Only to find the remains of bloodied, broken wings, surrounded by blackish stained wood, the heavy scent of iron still clinging to the rotten wood...

• They carefully collect them, carefully comforting the kids and keeping Reader cradled against one of them while the other handles their cub's wings... When they start to head back, they realize they have a lot of healing to do for their cub... This time theyll keep them safe. They'll keep them warm, they'll take care of them, they'll accept what their beliefs- But they aren't letting them go back. They can't leave them alone. They can't risk letting them hurt themself further. They won't hurt them, they won't yell, they'll be soft and gentle, they promise. Maybe they'll have to keep their cub a little tired, enough to not fight them or hurt themself... Yet if it means they'll be able to heal, to feel better... Then it's worth it. They won't fail them again...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #yandere platonic xmen #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #🌙silent night🦋 au #🪶creed!reader

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

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Iris

And I don't want the world to see me, ‘cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Mature – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.5k (I went way over than I was supposed to, lol)

cw: switching POVs (2nd person reader, 3rd person Eren), canon-universe, VERY canon-divergent, consider this a what-if scenario, major AOT spoilers up to season 4, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), fingering

Summary: At the Battle of Fort Slava, Eren Jaeger, hell-bent on launching his ultimate attack on Marley, injures himself to pose as a wounded soldier, granting him admittance to the hospital to finalize his plans. You, an Eldian volunteer working at the hospital, start treating this new patient, nervous about his mysterious demeanor. Eventually, you learn that you have much more in common with each other than you think.

Author’s Note: Thank you @ichinosejager13 for your second request for the y2k karaoke party! I did something totally different this time; I wrote a fic set in the canon universe. I thought it fit well with this song, so I hope you like it! While it’s set in the canon universe, it is very obviously canon divergent, so please remember I took a lot of liberties with this. I am in no way suggesting that any of this is what I wish happened in canon. I just think it was an interesting idea to write. Also, I understand that this will seem very out-of-character for Eren, but let’s just roll with it because it's all in good fun, lol.

Like, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune.

Fort Slava, huddled in the trenches. Blade through his leg, bullet in his eye. This is the last vivid memory Eren can recall as he stands in line outside the hospital, waiting to be admitted. Some asshole Marleyan imitates explosion sounds, causing all of those around him to fall to the ground, cowering in fear. They suffer trauma from the battlefield, and even Eren, with a clear conscious now, is affected by it. A kid, another Eldian dawning the same yellow armband as he is, steps towards them, kneeling down to help them up. He even assists Eren, correcting his armband to his left arm instead of the right. Luckily, it goes unnoticed by everyone else, which is exactly what he wants.

It's all part of his plan; the attack on Marley. It’s been in the works for months now, starting with his infiltration of the army, fighting alongside Marleyans and Eldians alike. He thought he’d have better clarity of the situation, maybe get convinced to call the whole thing off after bonding with other solders through the tragedies of violence and war. Unfortunately, it’s only made him realize how much more he needs to follow through with it. Nothing will ever change in this cruel world unless he’s the one to do it.

There are days when he gets cold feet. He’s tempted to re-evaluate, find a way back to his home of Paradis, reunite with his friends, devise a better plan and figure it out together. But in all the futures Eren can see, his current plan is the only one that will work. The only one that will grant him the freedom he’s been chasing his entire life.

The process is slow to get a room in the hospital. Luck remains on Eren’s side when he’s assigned a private room. It’s barren; a single-bed, just long enough to accommodate his stature, withered sheets and rusted iron on the frame. There’s a small nightstand beside it with two drawers to hide his belongings, which is essentially nothing, and atop is a small lamp, illuminating the room in a dreary glow. It’s not luxurious, but it’s enough for the time-being. Because that’s all Eren needs right now: time.

Eventually, Zeke will find him. They’ve been contacting each other for a while now, and Eren has a firm grasp on what his older brother is trying to convince him to do with the Founder’s power. While he doesn’t agree with his idea to euthanize the entire race of Eldians, Eren needs to entertain it long enough to manipulate Zeke into letting him use his royal blood.

It's all convoluted and fucked up, he’s aware of that. Somedays, he wishes he could escape this curse without doing anything at all. That one day, he’d be gone from this world, liberated from his Titan power, saved from this burdened life. This isn’t what he imagined while reading all those books he and Armin would marvel at as kids. This isn’t the freedom he was hoping for.

He rests in his pathetic, yet oddly comforting bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. His leg and eye are still wrapped in bandages, so a nurse should be coming soon to check on him. There’s a faint commotion out in the hallway, but Eren is too lazy and too uninterested to investigate. Soon, it subsides, and the door swings open, revealing a women around his age, wearing a nurses uniform and the yellow Eldian patch on her left arm. He recognizes the attire from battle; the army had a few nurses stationed at the fort for casualties.

“Mr. Kruger?” she asks.

It takes him a second to remember the alias he decided to use. He confirms it, nodding his head silently.

She gives him a warm smile, introducing herself. “I’ll be helping you from now on.”

~~~

You started working at the hospital a few months ago. For Eldians, it’s nearly impossible to be accepted into higher education, so nursing school was never an option. With opportunities so scarce, your best bet was to apply for a volunteer position at the hospital in hopes of using that as a steppingstone for an actual paying job. You don’t expect a promotion any time soon, not even in the near future, but at least you’re spending your time helping others.

While it’s rewarding, it isn’t glamorous or pretty in the slightest bit. Because you lack the proper education, your tasks mostly include bathing, feeding, cleaning up any accidents or messes. Occasionally, if your patient is open to it, you spend time with them chatting, doing activities with them, listening to their stories. This is rare, though. Most that are admitted are Marleyans who refuse to speak to you because of your status. Some are even reluctant to have you help them in the first place. The Eldians, sadly, are usually too traumatized to open up, so you do your best to make them comfortable however you can.

When you meet your newest patient, Eren Kruger, you don’t expect him to be any different from the rest. You are, however, surprised at how young he is; he can’t be any older than you, judging by his appearance. His records show nothing except for his name and his status as an Eldian, which isn’t unusual, so you don’t think much of it. “Mr. Kruger, I know you must be hungry,” you start. “Lunch will be arriving soon. If you need assistance, I’ll be here to help you.”

He acknowledges you with another curt nod, remaining silent. You can’t help but notice how brilliantly green his eyes are. Have you ever seen irises like his before? You let the inappropriate thought vanish quickly before you ask, “Would you like me to bathe you now or after you eat?”

At this, his brows tighten. “Bathe?”

“Yes, Mr. Kruger. We can bathe you before or after lunch, it’s up to you – ”

“I don’t want to bathe,” he says, avoiding your gaze.

You blink at him, unsure how to respond. “Surely you must want to be clean – ”

He interrupts you again, muttering, “How can I, when I’m like this?”

You understand his hesitation now, not needing further explanation. Sometimes, patients with missing limbs have expressed concern submerging themselves in a tub full of water, not wanting to get their bandages wet. Quickly, you clarify, “It would be a sponge bath. We can do that while you’re lying in bed, actually. And your bandages will stay intact.”

This seems to be the answer he’s looking for. His expression relaxes when he says, “After. I want to do it after I eat.”

You smile softly at him, noting it on your checkboard. “Understand. I’ll go check on your meal now. Is there anything else you need from me?”

A beat passes before he replies, “Pen and paper. For letters.”

You write it, reminding yourself to bring it when you return with his meal. “Got it.”

A few minutes later, you return with a tray of food along with a wad of paper and two pens. You set it on his nightstand beside him, waiting for him to move it. When he doesn’t, staying still, staring blankly at the foot of the bed, you clear your throat. “Mr. Kruger?”

“I’m not hungry,” he murmurs.

“But you haven’t eaten all day. You need nourishment if you’re going to get any better.”

“And who says I want to get better?” He glares at you, startled by the intensity in his gaze.

You swallow hard, nervous, but still resilient. “You have to eat. You owe it to yourself after what you’ve been through.”

“And how would you know what I’ve been through?” His voice is steady, a hint of venom, barely enough to sting. But you’re determined. You sit at the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him. Reaching for the tray, you set it down on your lap, sighing. “I don’t know. I have no idea what war is like out there. All I know is that it’s not great for us here. At least out there, you’re fighting together as a unit. Marleyan, Eldian, it doesn’t matter. You’re working to defeat our enemy. And who knows? If we ever win the war, maybe life will be better for us here.” You shove the tray towards him, glaring back at him. “So the least you could do is try to see it through and survive, right?”

He studies you carefully, contemplating how to respond. Glancing at the tray in front of him, he smirks, scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. You ease up, tension releasing from your shoulders.

After a few more bites, he speaks. “Who do you think the enemy is?”

Just when you thought you were in the clear, he asks you another question. “It was the Mid-East Allies. That’s who you fought at Fort Slava.”

“But who do you think the real enemy is?” He’s finished with his potatoes, now moving on to his meatloaf.

“Well, I suppose it’s whoever the government says it is.” You’re unsure what kind of answer he’s searching for.

“And if they say that we’re the enemy, then what?” He points between you, leaving you confused.

“We…?”

“Eldians. Devils.”

“No, no. The Devils are on the island. We’re…we’re not like them.”

“Are you sure?” He stuffs the rest of the meat into his mouth, chewing and swallowing it all down. “What makes you think you’re any better here than you are there?”

Your face feels hot now, and you start to stammer. “Because…because that’s what we were told. We’re on the right side. They’re on the wrong.”

His plate is nearly clean now. He slides his fingers on the remnants, licking it off before chugging half a glass of water. “What if I told you there’s a place for people like us? A place where you wouldn’t have to walk around with an armband. A place where you were treated fairly. Would you want to go to a place like that?”

You feel yourself drawn in by his words. The idea of it sounds impossible. Ever since you were born, you were taught to know your place in this world. That place was here in Marley, destined to be a second-class citizen. You were told that the island across the sea was full of devils like you, but because you’re here, you’re better. You can’t deny that you’ve been curious what life is like out there. All this time, you thought it must be worst, secluded on an island, hated by the rest of the world.

But is this life any better? Secluded in your own community and still hated by the rest of the world?

You pick the tray up from his lap, muttering, “I’ll go get your sponge bath ready.”

He doesn’t add anything else, watching you silently. You walk towards the door, ready to leave. Before you do, you say, “And to answer your question: I would.”

~~~

It was supposed to be innocent banter, that’s what Eren intended. He figured he could chalk it up to the trauma speaking for him, that she wouldn’t even be remotely interested in what he had to say. He thought she’d be like all the other naïve, brainwashed Eldians, ignorantly believing everything that was told to them. He realizes soon enough that he was wrong to underestimate her.

She comes to him every day, fulfilling her volunteer duties. Their daily routine begins with breakfast, then a morning stroll in his wheelchair out in the courtyard. Sometimes they’ll play chess at one of the tables, sometimes it’s checkers. Lunchtime comes, and then it’s time for a bath, one of Eren’s favorite parts of the day. Her hands are always gentle, gliding along his skin with a damp sponge. They’ll do another stroll outside, this time on his crutches, where he practices how to walk. Dinner arrives when it’s already dark out, and occasionally, he’ll ask her to read the latest news from the paper.

While all this happens, they talk. They talk a lot.

As expected, she figures out that Eren is from Paradis, though he bends the truth about his true intentions for being here. She doesn’t know about his Titan powers, thinking he’s a refugee seeking sanctuary here. Surprisingly, she isn’t offended about it; in fact, she’s curious. They spend most of their time together sharing stories of their childhood. Eren describes life in Paradis, she describes life in Marley. While there are stark differences between their upbringings, there are also blatant similarities. And together, they come to the gut-wrenching conclusion: Eldians are terrorized wherever they are, whether it’s here, or across the sea.

Eren has only sent one letter in the past two weeks, and that was to his friends back home, informing them that he is in Marley, safe and sound. He doesn’t disclose his plan to them yet. In all honestly, he’s not sure what the plan is anymore. Zeke still hasn’t found him, nor has Eren gone out of his way to be found. What Eren does know is that he enjoys spending time with the woman who helps him. So much that he’s losing grip on what he’s supposed to be doing here. He has to do something soon.

It comes to a head one night, three weeks after he was admitted to the hospital. Eren requests for another sponge bath after dinner; it was a hot day and he worked up a sweat during their afternoon walk. She helps him strip his shirt off, starting with the wet, warm sponge at his chest, massaging small circles onto his sticky skin. He watches her carefully, noticing her eyes lingering on his body more so than usual.

He speaks softly into her ear, leaning in close. “I have something to tell you.”

She continues above his waist, hands gently scrubbing, not bothering to look at him when she responds. “What is it, Eren?”

He’s thought about this all day. The plan. “Would you like to visit Paradis?”

This time, she does look at him, confused. “What?”

Louder now, and more confident, he says, “Come to Paradis with me. See what it’s like there.”

She scoffs. “I can’t just leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is my home.”

“They treat you like nothing here,” he argues. “At Paradis, you’re somebody. We can be safe at Paradis.”

She stops, tossing the sponge into the bucket of water beside her, frustrated. “Safe? After everything you’ve told me? You said it yourself; you’ve been terrorized by Titans since you were a kid. Every nation in the world wants Paradis gone. How can it be safe?”

He swallows thickly, gripping her hand delicately in his. “I can’t explain everything right now, but I have a plan. We have a plan.” He recalls one of the last memories he has of Armin, his brilliant friend, suggesting a small-scale Rumbling, enough to scare the rest of the world from attacking Paradis for centuries. He dismissed it quickly then, but now, he considers it. Could this be their best option? Instead of the billions of casualties Eren had originally devised? “You just have to trust me for now. Once we’re there, I can explain everything.”

She stares at him, clearly in shock from his suggestion. He doesn’t blame her. Eren is asking her to give up everything she knows.

“Eren,” she starts, squeezing his hand tighter. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

He smiles at her, brushing his thumb across her knuckles delicately. “I understand. I know it’s a big ask, and I shouldn’t have expected you to say yes. I just…I just think I know what I can do for Paradis to make it safe for people like us. Somewhere we can be ourselves, where people will know us for who we are, and not for what they see on our armbands.”

“It sounds like paradise,” she says quietly.

“It does. And I think I could make it that way. I know I can.”

She sighs, retrieving the sponge again. “I want to believe you, Eren. But I don’t think I can throw away my life for something I’m unsure of.” She starts to slide his pants off, ready to wash below his waist.

“Please, just consider it. I plan to leave soon, within the next few days. I just have to send out a letter tomorrow, and I should be ready to go.”

“You’re leaving? Already?”

“I know what I have to do now. I can’t waste any more time when we can end this war now.”

She peers at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I…”

“What is it?” He sits up, leaning in close to cup her cheek, brushing away her falling tears.

“Will we ever see each other again?” Her voice is trembling, lips quivering. His heart sinks into his stomach, seeing her like this.

He presses his forehead to hers. “I’ll find you when this is all over. I promise you. Whatever you do, don’t go anywhere near the shore, okay?” The small-scale Rumbling should only affect the fleets, which will be in the middle of the ocean, far from the shore. Still, he can’t risk anything happening to her. Not when he isn’t there to protect her.

She nods, not asking for any further explanation. He presses a small kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring us peace.”

~~~

Eren asks you to drop off a letter in the mailbox, addressed to someone named Azumabito. Apparently, she is an ally to Eldians who is stationed here in Marley, so she can arrange a ship for him to head back home.

There are still so many questions left unanswered, though you decide not to ask them. Maybe it’s foolish to trust someone you’ve only known for a month. But Eren has given you more truth about this harsh world that anyone else the entire time you’ve been here. And he’s the only one who’s ever promised you a better life.

Two days after you mailed the letters, you receive a response. It’s addressed to you, though you’re sure it’s meant for Eren. There’s a fancy insignia stamped to one corner of the envelope: a circle with a triangle in the center, formed by samurai swords. You keep it safe in your pocket as you head for the kitchen, ready to deliver Eren’s dinner.

He reads it when he’s finished with his meal. You watch as he scans the letter carefully, mouthing a few words under his breath. When he reaches the end, he looks up at you, a small grin on his face. “She’s arranged a ship for tomorrow morning, before sunrise.”

You gasp, surprised at how soon his departure is. “Tomorrow?”

He nods, folding the letter and tucking it beneath his pillow.

You let out a deep breath, unsure what else to say. Noticing your quiet demeanor, he reaches for your hand to hold it. “I know this is happening so fast. But I’ve never been more certain about what I need to do until now.” He interlocks his fingers with yours, smiling. “And you helped me with that.”

“Me? How?”

“By being you. By giving me a chance to explain myself. Even when you found out I was from Paradis, you didn’t judge me. You got to know me. It showed me that there are people, good people, on this side. That even in a ruthless place like this, there is beauty to be saved.”

You don’t say anything, throat too heavy with emotion to respond. Blinking away your tears, you take his tray from his lap, walking quickly to the door. Before you can leave, he asks, “Can you please come back to help me shave?”

Without turning to face him, you nod, exiting his room, stifling your sobs on your way down the hallway. Your heart yearns for more time with him. For the past few weeks, being here has been an escape from your painful reality. You’re not seen as an Eldian, you aren’t considered a second-class citizen. With him, you’re just you.

You know that you can’t keep him caged here forever. Like a bird, he’s ready to spread his wings. He’s ready to be free. While you’re heartbroken to see him leave, you’re thrilled for him to fulfill his destiny. All you can hope is that one day, you’ll be reunited in a better place than here.

You return to his room a couple of minutes later with everything you need to give him a close shave. His facial hair has grown out quite a bit since he arrived. You lather his face with a small amount of soap, scrubbing the suds off with a warm, wet towel. He closes his eyes, indulging in your relaxing touch. After mindful preparation, you begin to shave his goatee with a straight razor, pulling his skin taut, gliding the blade carefully across his chin, cleaning it after every stroke. When you’re done with his beard, you focus your attention on his mustache, delicately moving the razor until his skin is smooth and shaven. You smile as you wipe off any remaining residue with the towel.

With everything discarded into the bucket of water set on the nightstand, you take this time to admire his face, memorizing every detail. The flutter of his lashes, the bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his jawline, the plush of his lips. It’s only now that you realize how close to him you are. You’re kneeling beside him on the bed, noses almost touching, your fingers grazing his smooth skin. He opens his eyes to look at you, and his breath hitches at the intimacy, glancing at your mouth.

Before you can move, he closes the short distance, kissing you on the lips. As quickly as it happens, he pulls away, blushing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have asked first. I’m sorry – ”

You cut him off with another kiss, hungry for more. It’s his last day; in mere hours from now, he’ll be gone, and you’re not sure when you’ll see him again, if ever. It’s crossed your mind many times by now, how it would feel to be with him like this. The feeling of his lips on yours, the slide of his tongue in your mouth, the taste of his spit. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you’ve never thought about it. In fact, it’s been on your mind every night as you fall asleep, wishing you were in his arms instead of alone in your bed.

He doesn’t pull away this time, sinking in deeper, slipping inside your mouth to swirl his tongue with yours. He’s just as sweet as you fantasized he’d be, luscious and rich in your mouth. His skin is smooth against your fingertips, tracing his jawline. One hand slides around your waist, tugging you closer to him, the other wraps around the nape of your neck, holding your head steady. You swing one leg over him, straddling his lap, hoisting the hem of your dress past your hips, revealing your panties. He moans, shifting beneath you in the bed to slip his trousers down, displaying his erection bulging in his underwear.

“Is this okay?” he huffs, catching his breath. His voice wavers, his only visible eye half-lidded with arousal, unable to keep his cool.

“Yes,” you answer, grinding yourself on him, kissing him sloppily. His grip is on your hips, guiding you to rut against his cock faster. The friction between you is enough to make you wet, your slick soaking through the fabric.

“You’re an angel,” he whispers, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to make you feel good.” His thumb teases the elastic of your waistband, hand slipping inside to rub your clit against his fingers.

“Eren,” you moan, his sensual touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He slowly slides two digits inside you, massaging your bud with his palm while he pumps his fingers into your sopping cunt. His cock is stiff beneath you, watching you ride his hand, cursing under his breath until you reach your climax, coating him in your arousal.

You’re breathing heavily, in a daze from your orgasm. He removes his hand from you, slipping it past his underwear to jerk his cock. You reach for him, tugging his bottoms down his legs, replacing his fist with yours, stroking him eagerly. He whispers your name, bucking his hips in tandem with your movements. You’re aching for more, desperate to feel him inside you, feel him deeper. You position yourself correctly, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side to tease the head of his cock up and down your folds. He sits up on his elbows, watching you with a nervous expression on his face. “Are you sure?” he asks.

You nod, smiling at him. “I’m sure. I want to be close to you, Eren.”

He swears, letting his head fall back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. You sink down on him, his dick stretching you out smoothly, still sleek from your previous orgasm. He moans, craning his neck to take in the lewd sight before him. “Oh my god,” he groans, thrusting his hips into you.

You ride him slowly, his entire length filling you up to the brim. He plants his feet into the mattress to fuck you deeper, the metal frame creaking with every thrust. It doesn’t take long until you’re both coming together. He shoots his load inside you while you gush all over him, creating a wet mess between you that you couldn’t care less about in the euphoric state you’re in. You lift off him, rolling to his side, relaxing into the pillow with him beside you, cradling you in his arms. He gives you a smooch on the cheek, nuzzling his nose with yours. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“What?”

“You really are an angel,” he says, smiling at you.

~~~

Eren wakes up alone, and he’s almost convinced that it was all a dream until he spots the small note scribbled on paper laying his nightstand.

It’s too hard to say goodbye, so I won’t. I trust you to keep your promise. We’ll see each other again soon.

With daybreak approaching, Eren leaves for the docks quickly with only the clothes on his back and letters in his pocket, including hers. With sunrise teasing the horizon, he makes it to the meeting place just in time. He recognizes Azumabito and greets her, explaining the situation as they board the ship. She informs him that they are waiting for several other passengers, so he makes himself comfortable by a window.

A few minutes pass and one of the crew approaches him. “Mr. Jaeger, there is a woman trying to board, claiming they are with you. Do you know anything about this?”

He glances out the window towards the docks and to his shock, he sees an angel with a suitcase in hand, talking to Azumabito. His heart races, overjoyed as he jumps out of his seat, sprinting out of the ship to meet her.

#eren smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #aot smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan fanfiction #eren fanfiction #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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xomakara · 4 months ago

Text

Elevator

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You and Wooyoung are stuck in the elevator with nothing to do but talk. But when you are awfully aware of how close he is, you can’t help but act on your urges.

PAIRING | Wooyoung/Reader

GENRE | non-idol!Wooyoung, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, oral, vaginal sex, elevator sex

RATING | Mature

LENGTH | 2593 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE | On the shorter side but still smutty~

"Nononono. This can't be happening." You ran a hand through your hair, sliding down the walls of the elevator as it stopped moving. The lights were out and you could barely make out the figure of the man who stood next to you.

Of all days to get a power outage!

"Freaking out like that isn't going to make things better." The man muttered, his voice low and calm. "Breathe deep. Count to ten. Do something productive. Shit. I forgot what to do when things go bad."

He added, not sounding at all sincere.

You didn't need him to tell you to breathe; you'd been doing so since the lights went out in the first place. Your heart was pounding and the sweat on your palms made them slippery. The whole situation was just freaking bizarre and the adrenaline pumping through your body wasn't helping either.

You knew you had a bad feeling when you woke up this morning as you struggled to get out of bed. All your work clothes were in the laundry hamper, a lightbulb went out in your bathroom while you showered, you ran out of coffee and there was nothing left to eat for breakfast besides half an apple that had turned brown overnight.

On top of all that, the bathroom mirror showed that the faint lines around your eyes were more pronounced than usual.

And now you're stuck in the company's elevator with that very attractive employee in your department, one who is probably pissed off that he can't find anything to do while trapped here too.

"I knew I should have called in today." You muttered, burying your face in your hands. "This day couldn't possibly get any worse."

"How worse could it be?" The man asked, looking slightly annoyed but also amused by the sight of you bawling your eyes out on the elevator floor. He took a few steps forward before stopping again, taking another deep breath. "It's just a power outage after all. It happens every now and then."

"True enough." You agreed, raising your head to look up at him. "I just can't believe I'm stuck here with you."

"What's wrong with being stuck in an elevator with me?" He laughed.

"Not funny, Wooyoung." You frowned. "God, I can already hear all the other ladies in our department talking shit about me. Why do I always get myself into these situations? Like I haven't got enough problems as it is."

"I mean there's one way we can deter the shit talking." He smirked, gesturing at himself suggestively.

You groaned and shook your head. You really needed to get out of here soon or else your colleague was going to try to make a move on you and then you'll be really fucked. Not that you weren't interested in the idea, but you've heard some horror stories from friends who hooked up with co-workers and most of them ended badly.

You glanced around nervously, wondering how long the power outage would last and how long you'd be stuck in this elevator. You wondered if they'd think of any contingency plan if they realized how much time had passed since the lights went out. Maybe they'd sent maintenance to fix it? Hopefully someone will come soon.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, sinking to the floor next to you. His legs crossed and his arms resting casually on his knees. "Having second thoughts about making a move on me?"

"I am not trying to make a move on you, no matter how attractive you may be." You mumbled. "Are you really sure you want to know what I'm thinking?"

"I have been told I have good hearing." He grinned, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "Go ahead and tell me. Whatever it is, I won't judge you."

"Just being in this elevator is making my anxiety go up the wazoo." You sighed, sitting back against the wall.

"That's why I'm trying to distract you." He said with a shrug. "So, you really want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I've just had such a bad day." You sighed. "I struggled to get out of bed this morning. All my work clothes were in the hamper, the light bulbs went out during my shower, I didn't have any breakfast except for a stupid apple that turned brown and I ran out of coffee this morning. Everything seemed to conspire against me this morning and..."

You took a deep breath and stared down at your feet, knowing that if you looked at him, you might let yourself get carried away. Wooyoung squeezed your hands gently.

"This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. I've always got my shit together, but today, everything seems to fall apart. One after the other." You muttered.

"Y/N, don't feel embarrassed about having bad days. Everyone has them." He murmured. "Sometimes life can be cruel and unjust, leaving us to struggle with burdens we never thought we could carry alone. It happens to the best of us."

"Maybe." You sighed. "But sometimes you wish that sometimes those bad days wouldn't happen at all."

"Well, we can't always get what we want, right?" He smiled gently. "But if we accept reality as it is, rather than as we wish it to be, perhaps we'll feel better and cope better with whatever life throws at us."

"Who are you and what have you done to the cocky Wooyoung I work with?" You let out an amused sigh. "Is it possible to see two sides of a person at once? Because I definitely saw a different side of you today. Thank you for being nice to me."

"Oh come on, it's nothing special." He waved his hand dismissively. "But I'd like a kiss as payment for comforting you. That's if...you want to."

You looked at him, eyes taking in his handsome face. His messy hair, slightly tousled from always running his hands through them. Those eyes that made you weak in the knees. The lips that were dangerously close to yours.

"Do you want to kiss me?" He asked quietly, tilting his head to the side.

There was a moment where neither of you moved, staring deeply into each other's eyes until finally Wooyoung leaned closer and pressed his lips against yours softly.

The soft kiss surprised you, making you pull away slightly. But Wooyoung didn't seem fazed by it and instead he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You returned the kiss, brushing your lips against his before pressing your mouth more firmly against his.

Your lips parted slightly as he continued to press kisses to your lips, opening wider as his tongue slid along the seam of your mouth, exploring every corner until finally parting to allow him entrance. He tasted faintly of coffee, which made you wonder if he drank a cup before he came down here, but his taste was still pleasantly sweet.

"You know I could care less about what our coworkers would say about us." He muttered against your lips. "I only have eyes for you."

His words, along with his closeness and the scent of his cologne filled your senses and slowly your breathing became deeper, almost as though your lungs were expanding and pushing the air inside even further. The electricity flowing between you caused goosebumps to rise on your skin, spreading all over your body as his hands tightened their grip around your waist.

As much as you wanted to deny it, his lips and his touch were sending sparks of pleasure shooting across your skin and a warm sensation rushed to your core.

"Wooyoung..." You moaned, closing your eyes tightly. You felt his lips graze your jawline, before moving lower to nip at your earlobe. A shiver ran down your spine and your knees began to weaken, causing you to lean back against the wall behind you.

"Y/N..." He whispered, nibbling at your neck before he began to suckle your earlobe. "Do you want me to stop?"

The question caught you completely off guard and you opened your eyes to stare into his. In the dim lighting of the elevator, your pupils were drawn into his dark eyes, which seemed to have gone darker, taking on a darker shade.

"No." You breathed, leaning in to press your lips against his.

And Wooyoung seemed equally affected by your kiss. Before you could blink, his hands reached up and grabbed the sides of your face, pulling you towards him so that your lips met once more.

With every kiss, the intensity grew and soon you were lost in the sensations coursing through your body. When he pulled away slightly to give you a chance to catch your breath, your breath hitched and you licked your lips before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

The man in front of you was no longer the Wooyoung you usually worked with. Instead, he looked like a man who knows exactly what he wants and won't hesitate to take it.

"Don't stop." You breathed out, Wooyoung lifted you in his arms. His face darkened with desire and his breath came out in shallow pants as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes. "Please..."

He dropped to his knees, lifting your skirt and tugging your panties aside, revealing your pussy. It was slick with excitement and arousal and you felt your breath quicken. The sight of your cunt getting wetter was arousing and thrilling, as he looked up at you expectantly.

Before you could stop him, he slipped two fingers inside your pussy and began to stroke you, bringing out small whimpers of pleasure. He continued to slide his fingers in and out of you, fucking you with such skill and control.

Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, feeling weak from the pleasure he brought you and you sank back against the wall, needing something to hold onto. He didn't need to be told twice and quickly placed his hand under your knee, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, his face now buried between your thighs.

You let out a gasp when his tongue began to lap at your clit, teasing it and making it throb with pleasure. You closed your eyes and tilted your hips upwards, allowing him better access to your center. Your hips bucked erratically, driving his tongue faster, while his fingers kept pumping in and out of you.

He hummed and thrust his tongue harder against your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You started panting heavily, sucking in your bottom lip as he began to finger fuck you in earnest, fastening his pace. There was no mistaking it anymore. He was totally focused on pleasuring you, intent on giving you mind blowing orgasms.

The combination of the electric shocks from his fingers in conjunction with the vibrations from his tongue was too much to bear. Soon your hips began to buck violently, moaning and whimpering, driven mad by the pleasure that overwhelmed you.

"Fuck!"

It was unlike anything you ever experienced before. As you screamed his name, letting go of all control, all you could do was keep your orgasm coming, flooding his mouth with your juices until your body relaxed against the wall and he withdrew his tongue, licking the last traces of your cum from his lips.

"Holy fuck..." You gasped, catching your breath.

"Good?" He asked, kissing your inner thigh and working his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, but it only added to your arousal.

"So good but now..." Your knees went weak and you rested your forehead against his. "Now I need you to fuck me."

In an instant, he lifted you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The position left you open and vulnerable, as he settled himself between your legs and pushed forward, burying his cock deep inside you. You gasped as you took his length fully, enjoying the fullness of him. The feel of him filling you to capacity.

Wooyoung thrust in and out of you, setting a steady pace that made you cling onto him. With each thrust, his pelvis smacked against your clit, making you cry out.

The speed increased as you leaned back against the wall, lifting your ass higher to accommodate him. Wooyoung gripped your hips, moving them back and forth with precision, hitting just the right spot. He pressed kisses to your neck, then your ears before finding your lips again.

The combination of the feel of his hands gripping your hips and the feel of his hard cock pulsating inside you, sent ripples of pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your passion.

"Oh God...Wooyoung..." You groaned, arching your back as his tongue found its way to your earlobe.

"You feel so good. I could fuck you forever." He whispered, thrusting into you harder and harder, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "Can I fuck you forever?"

"Yes please...Yes. Yes.." You moaned, pressing your body tighter against his.

His moans were growing louder as he thrust into you faster and faster, matching your pace. With every thrust, his fingers dug into your hips, holding you tight against him. Every time you pressed back against him, he let out a long groan, then immediately buried himself inside you, fucking you harder and harder.

"Y/N... Y/N... Come for me..." He groaned against your ear.

It took every ounce of willpower not to let yourself cum, but his moans and the feel of his hard cock deep inside you drove you crazy and you knew you couldn't hold back any longer.

The muscles in your stomach clenched and a tremor coursed through your body as another orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling. Wooyoung thrust harder, gritting his teeth and growling as he came with you. The sight of him losing control and calling out your name made your heart skip a beat and make your knees buckle.

But before you could fall to the floor, he caught you in his arms and held you tightly, kissing you tenderly. You were completely spent and all you wanted was to collapse into his arms.

"I got you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

As soon as Wooyoung placed you on your feet, the power kicked back on and the elevator started moving again. The both of you let out a laugh as you fixed your clothes, making sure that nothing had fallen out of place.

"Wooyoung?" You turned to look at him, smiling at him. "Thank you."

He grasped your hand, linking your fingers together as you walked towards the doors. "Anytime."

As the elevator door opened, he let go of your hand, placing his hands on the doors and holding them open for you. He watched as you exited the elevator, giving you one last smile before he followed you.

When you got to your desk and Wooyoung to his, you were both silent, content in the fact that you had each other and no one else knew what had happened between the two of you. And when you turned to look at your phone, you saw a text from him asking if you wanted to get dinner later.

Your heart skipped a beat as your face lit up with a wide smile. The night was still young and there was plenty of time for you and Wooyoung to enjoy it together.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfics #ateez smut #ateez stories #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

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Bonny we love everything you do! If you are up to, what about IT girl has a date and jk open a live coincidently on the same day and time so she cannot go

(Ps: Her date is an asshole and jk knows it)

You guys have really made me wanna write this... Warnings for Jungkook's internal dirty thoughts haha

First part: here

There's no fucking way he will let you go on a date with someone like sangwook. Absolutely not.

You're way too nice to say no to the guy, and he himself knows that the staff member has a certain way with words, knows how to get his way. But Jungkook has also heard the horror stories of the guy getting girls drunk until they're barely conscious, just so he can have his way with them- and he won't just sit here and let that happen to you of all people.

Not if he can do anything about it.

Jungkook and you had honestly had a great time when you eventually came over to eat the re-heated instant noodles together. He learned some stuff about you, about your interest, about who you are apart from just your job. You share a lot more interests with him than initially thought, both of you having a love for gaming and good food. And he especially enjoyed how natural you were, treating him like a normal person, not like the idol he is.

Maybe that's why he just can't let you go now.

He'd heard of the date from Sangwook himself- he'd been chatting with another female staff about you, and how he'll 'find out' if you're 'as innocent' as you apparently act. It made Jungkook feel like throwing up, a guy like that potentially filling you up with alcohol just to eat you like prey- he can't let that happen.

You've told him how you seek love, romance, excitement and something almost childish.

Exactly what he wants, too.

So he goes live, the only way he knows he will keep you there, well aware that you take your job (hopefully) too seriously to go on a date instead. He doesn't know how close you are with him yet- maybe it's a lost cause, maybe Sangwook had been the reason you'd been so hesitant with jungkook in the first place-

But he has to try.

"Hm, hello." He greets the fans, but more so you who he hopes is watching on the other side. "Its quite sudden, isn't it?" He chuckles, holding onto the iced wine in the glass mug in front of him. "Looks like a date? Ah, yes it does, doesn't it?" He grins, acting all shy.

And there it is. An angry smiley- several, even.

It makes him chuckle as he reads the comments and imagines you fuming in your home, but he can take the heat coming his way if he at least prevents that horrible date from happening. Have you already started to get ready? He wonders what you might look like all dolled up. In a short dress maybe, one that hugs your curves just right, with simple delicate straps holding it up over your shoulders. He knows you need no fancy designer shit.

He'd rip it off of you either way.

"Army.." he hums, referring to the fans, but hoping that you get the message most of all. "If you go on dates, late- you be careful, right?" He says, taking a sip of his iced wine, before setting the mug down, and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. There's another round of emojis flooding in, and he can't help but laugh.

He continues this game for almost an hour, making sure that your date was not happening, before he ends the live.

And not even half an hour later, you're in his apartment, fuming, angry, upset. But you're there, and not with him, so Jungkook can't help but be satisfied.

Especially at the sight of you in a strapless denim-dress. Short, but long enough to cover you comfortably. The fabric stretches a bit over your curves, tits looking so good but a little uncomfortable. He would just have to pull down a little, just a tiny bit, and they'd spill out, he's sure of it. He can't see bra straps.

Are you not wearing one? Interesting.

You're pushing him lightly. "You asshole!" You yell at him. "You knew I had a date! You knew it!" You complain, and he nods, a simple smile on his face, and it only angers you more. "Stop laughing!" You demand, but he just raises his hands as if to show you he's no threat, but you just reach out to push him again-

But instead he pulls your wrists towards him, wraps his arms around you, completely catching you off guard as he holds you close, trying hard to ignore your body's warmth against his.

"I'm glad you didn't go." He says, and it sounds surprisingly serious. "I was worried you might." He tells you, and you hate how good he looks, how good he smells.

"Cause you wouldn't have someone to play around with?" You mumble still angry, and he chuckles.

"I'm not playing with you." He denies, swaying you both from side to side a little. "I really am not." He says as if to make sure his point gets to you.

"And yet you still ruined my date.." you complain.

"Sangwook isn't worth your time." He shakes his head.

"Oh but you are?" You scoff. He chuckles. Again.

"I mean, you're here, are you not?" He states.

You are. And you're not sure why you're here, why you didn't at least change, why you don't want to leave just yet.

"To tell you to stop trying to ruin my love life." You snap back in defense, and he laughs.

"Then stop trying to ruin mine." He says back, making you freeze in his arms before you both detach a little. "I thought we were good? Why did you agree to that date?" He wonders, and you shrug, crossing your arms.

"He asked... nicely, you know?" You say, looking at the floor.

"And you couldn't say no." He sighs. "Because you're too nice yourself." He scolds softly.

"I just.. wanted to, you know, talk to someone. Be social. Spend my evening with something else than animal crossing and icecream.." you try and justify yourself, and Jungkook suddenly opens his arms wide, shaking his head before he hits his chest.

"Am I not right here?" He complains. "Am I just an illusion or something?"

"..no?" You wonder, and he tilts his head in irritation for a moment.

"Then why am I not an option for you?" He asks, a little agitated. "I thought we were fine last time you were here. We had a really good time, talked, fuck I thought we were going somewhere!" He complains.

"I'm just.. scared." You say, and he runs a hand over his face.

"I know." He nods. "Lets just- okay. Do you want to try this?" He asks, motioning between you and him. "Yes or no."

"I don't know-" you start, but he shakes his head.

"Not an answer, try again." He tells you, crossing his arms.

"Jungkook what if we get caught-" You start again, but he denies it again.

"Yes or no. It's pretty easy." He says.

"What's your answer?" You ask, and he throws his head back in agony. "Okay, yeah- yes? But-"

"Good, great, fuck!" He barks out to no one, before he holds your face in his palms. "Just trust me. Please." He begs, eyes sparkling in both the light of the candle on his kitchen table, and the neon colored laser points traveling all around his walls from his moodlight.

"What do you want from me?" You ask, and he smiles.

"Your love." He answers, before he shrugs playfully. "And maybe the occasional fuck on the couch if I'm in the mood-" he starts, and you hit his chest at that, though you laugh.

"So you really do just want to screw me!" You whine, crossing your arms- unaware of how you're pushing up your cleavage.

"No, baby." He shakes his head, tongue running over his lip piercing. "I don't only want to fuck you." He answers.

"Though I won't say no if you're ever offering."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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stinkysam · 4 months ago

Text

Serge “Frenchie” - Millions pieces.

Warning : nsfw, blood loss, slight gore (?), long ass intro, blowjob (receiving), come eating.

Genre : smut

Synopsis : “could you write Frenchie x male supe in, like, a body worship nsfw scenario where Frenchie is comforting him? Preferable related to his powers but could be dysphoria, self-esteem, whatever (I support creative liberties tbh).” - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

A/N : for a better visibility of reader’s powers, see Buggy the Clown from One Piece (tho it's a bit different)

You didn't know what were your powers apart from your super strength until the day you fought against Homelander with Butcher and Soldier Boy at Herogasm, your fists doing barely anything against his laser eyes who slit your throat from left to right, separing your head from the rest of your body. You fell to your knees slowly before falling on your front, head rolling on the ground, blood gushing everywhere.

When you reopened your eyes, Homelander was gone, Annie and M.M by your… side ? Standing next to your body ? You blinked a few times trying to make sense of it and get rid of the hazy feeling.

“Fuck.” M.M whispered. Blood continued spilling from where your head was supposed to be. He was at a loss for words.

“What should we do ?” Asked Annie, feeling nauseous from seeing you in such a state.

“Grab his head.” M.M said. They weren't going to leave you here. They'd take you to the base and give you a proper burial. Somewhere.

Annie grabbed your head cautiously, unsure on how to hold you.

As M.M moved closer to you to grab your body, your arm moved suddenly, as if to rub your head, making them jump in surprise.

“What the…” You said quietly, almost inaudibly, feeling foggy from the extreme blood loss, looking at your body by M.M’s feet, while your hand is groggily patting the air in hope to find your throbbing head. “Why can I see… my body like that ?”

Annie turns with horror your head around to look at your face.

“How… are you still… alive ?” She asked shakily, words slowly coming out of her mouth as if she struggled to find them due to the shock.

“What ?” You replied tiredly, confused, barely remembering what happened. “Why is my body…” You started again, slowly losing your words, ready to pass out again.

M.M checked your pulse as if to make sure you were really alive and nodded to Annie. After a beat she moved closer to your body, unsure and awkwardly, and placed your head where it should be.

In a few seconds it was re-attaching itself together, leaving a big scar all around your neck where you had been lasered.

Since that day, you always found yourself in situations where you get heavily cut. Arms ripped, hands torn off, fingers cut, thighs slit, ankles deeply severed. But you always glued yourself back together, leaving big scars where you got cut.

You quickly found out that once a part of you had been severed, you could detach it at will, sending your hands flying to strangle someone while your legs kicked another person in the nuts, your head flying above them to yell where the others were hiding, and this, without major blood loss or having to saw through your skin, flesh and bones. You could be cut in a million pieces and re-attach yourself afterwards.

Still, as much as you liked your powers, each scar left you with a sour taste in your mouth.

They were big and everything but neat, and you could often physically remember the pain it caused you. Sometimes it was just your fingers hurting, sometimes it was everywhere at once, feeling like you were being ripped apart again.

Frenchie knew you had trouble with them, it was obvious and you weren't particularly silent about it. You hid them with bandages as much as you could or wore clothes that would hide your neck, arms and hands, only taking them off to sleep or when you knew you'd be alone all day.

He knew all too well how you could feel about your scars, he himself had a multitude of them on his body, often reminding him how he got them, with the pain it brought him.

So he tried to help make you feel better about them.

You were currently laying on your bed, the sheets thrown aside, no bandages or clothes to hide your scars apart from your boxers hiding the cuts around your thighs. Frenchie was resting next to you, kissing your shoulder as he fought the urge to take a nap, one of his hands absentmindedly caressing your side.

He hummed, feeling comfortable, and you smiled.

He moved to place another kiss on the side of your neck this time, feeling the irregularities of your scar against his lips.

“I think that you're a handsome man.” He stated out of the blue after a minute with a small smile and shining eyes.

You opened your eyes and frowned, slightly taken aback.

“Okay ?” You replied, laughing quietly.

“Non mais je suis sérieux.” He moved so he could look you in the eyes, grabbing your face with one hand to make you look at him. “Not once I could think the opposite.”

“First of all, you're biased.” You nodded half joking, half serious, enjoying the warmth of his hand on your cheek as you turned yourself to fully face him, the hand that caressed your side now on your back.

“How ?”

“We're dating ?” You frowned, as if it was the most logical of all things.

“Oh, because I'm dating you, I can't find you handsome, huh ?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, fuck that. J'emmerde ta logique.” He said with a frown, making you laugh.

“Okay, okay.” You caressed his cheek, trying to wave it off so he would change the topic. He didn't. He kissed your neck again.

“Head to toes, there is not a thing that I don't like.” He smiled against your lips before pecking them, his fingers tapping against your spine absentmindedly.

“I could find you a few things.” You laughed, kissing him back.

“Non. I love everything.” He grabbed your hands, planting his lips on your scarred wrists.

“Stop.” You said, trying not to show embarrassment. But instead of stopping he continued, kissing your palms, fingers and wrists once more.

“Non.”

When he let go of your hands it was to attack your face, kissing whatever he could reach as quickly as possible as you laughed. Eventually he landed on your lips, savoring the kiss a bit more, then moved to your chin then under it, until he reached the scar around your neck.

Quickly, he pushed you on your back as he climbed on top of you and kissed your scar again. One of his thumbs caressed it slowly as if to memorize each bump and irregularities.

“Serge.” You warned quietly, nervousness evident in your voice, not feeling the greatest about him studying your scar like this despite enjoying the attention and affection.

“I love them.” He started, looking at you. “Because each time you survived.”

You stared at him as if you were debating whether to believe him or not.

He kissed the scar you had at the joint of your left arm and shoulder.

“As horrible as it had been, you survived.” He smiled, grabbing your hands to kiss your fingers.

One of his hands moved to touch your body, fingers lightly caressing you, giving you goosebumps as he focused on kissing your collarbones and moving lower, slowly, as if to not let an inch of your skin feel unloved or untouched.

When he was low enough, he pulled your boxers out of the way, throwing them aside, before caressing your thighs, feeling the rather new scars on your soft skin. He planted a few kisses there, his hand caressing your other thigh as you watched his every move.

“Avec ou sans.” He stroked your dick before giving it a peck. “You're still handsome. You’re still you.” He looked at your eyes, making sure you were listening to him as he jerked it slowly as it began to harden in his hand.

Frenchie squirmed a bit, changing to a better position, allowing both of his hands to caress you, thumbs tracing your scars gently.

“Malgré mes cicatrices, tu m’aimes, right ?” He asked, though he already knew your answer.

“Bien sûr.”

“C'est pareil pour moi. Pourquoi mon amour devrait changer à la vue de tes cicatrices ? Mh ?”

At your lack of answer he nipped your inner thigh, away from the scar, making you yelp and close your legs in surprise, squishing his head for a second before reopening them.

“It shouldn't.” You said and he kissed where he bit you. Correct.

“Carrément it shouldn't !” He replied, frowning before focusing back on your dick, thumb tracing the veins, lips kissing the side by the base, slowly going up to the tip. “Je t'aime. And no scars will change that, understood ?”

You nodded, watching his hand move up and down your dick slowly, teasing you. You sighed, letting the pleasure get to your head as Frenchie began to lick you before wrapping his lips around you.

“Fuck…” You quietly said as he started to bob his head, his other hand massaging your inner thigh cautiously, not wanting to irritate the scars, always gentle.

It felt so warm and wet inside his mouth, you refused to close your eyes to not miss a thing, feeling his tongue press against your cock and move, making you squirm.

Your right hand landed in his hair, at first just to touch him and to keep him there, but rapidly it was to control the pace. You closed your legs a bit and he wrapped his arms around them, taking you deeper in his mouth.

You knew Frenchie had no gag reflex but each time it blew your mind, though you remained cautious, not wanting to wake a remnant of it while your tip was in his throat.

His grip around your legs tightened, making sure you wouldn't move.

As if you'd want to get away from this.

You moved his head up and down on your dick, cursing quietly as his mouth swallowed you whole. It was a sight to behold. A bit of drool pooling at the base of your cock.

Your hips bucked into him, making him hum and swallow around you, close to sending you over the edge. You could feel his thumbs caress your thighs, fingers tracing your scars delicately.

“Fuck, I'm close.” You warned, sighing and panting loudly. Your hips stuttering upward, bucking into his mouth to get more, his eyes flickered to yours before pulling away to jerk you off quickly. His lips were by your wet tip, tongue out, ready for you to come.

And that's what you did, you came on his tongue, shooting ropes of cum in his mouth with a loud moan, and when you were done, he swallowed it all, licking your dick clean and smiling cheekily at you before crawling to kiss you.

“I love you.” He whispered, booping your nose, making you chuckle.

“I love you too.” You kissed his cheek. “I'm not saying I love them now, but maybe I'll try to not bother myself with bandages. Maybe.”

“I knew I gave awesome blowjobs.” He said proudly with a large smile. You frowned, rolling on your side as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Le melon du gars...” You whispered, smiling, and he laughed before kissing your forehead.

Traduction - Translation :

Non mais je suis sérieux. - No but I'm serious.

J’emmerde ta logique. - Fuck your logic.

Avec ou sans. - With or without.

Malgré mes cicatrices, tu m’aimes ? - Despite my scars, you love me ?

Bien sûr. - Of course.

C'est pareil pour moi. Pourquoi mon amour devrait changer à la vue de tes cicatrices ? - It's the same for me. Why would my love change at the sight of your scars ?

Carrément. - Damn right.

Je t'aime. - I love you.

Le melon du gars… - The melon (to have a big ego) of this guy.

#male reader #m!reader #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys x male reader #the boys tv #frenchie #frenchie imagine #frenchie x male reader #frenchie the boys

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

Text

Sauron’s Secret [Eddie Munson x Reader]

Title: Sauron’s Secret, one ring to rule them all.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Wife!Reader {Established but hidden relationship}

Timeline: Around S4- slight alternate timeline, no Vecna. No mention of past events in Hawkins.

Summary: Eddie’s hiding a secret and Dustin is determined to figure it out.

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of marriage. Hidden relationships, secret marriage. Mentions of drugs and marijuana. Dustin is a sleuth and I love him for it. Lord of the Rings references.

I had so much fun writing this. Set in mostly 3rd person/ Dustin POV.

Eddie Munson was allusive and mysterious, even to his closest friends.

He shared only what needed to be shared and kept his business private, just how he liked it. Eddie's favourite colour? Who knows, probably black or red but you'd never get a solid answer. His favourite movie? He says it's some old slasher film from the 50's that defied cinematic structure and gave the middle finger to the 'man' trying to oppress the creative spirit of filmmaking. Was it the truth? Probably not. His favourite book? He’d alluded to it being Lord of the rings but if questioned he would act like he’d never heard of it.

The only things he was open about were his love for heavy metal, pizza and D&D, and even then he kept his sadistic and intricate campaigns under wraps for as long as possible before the big reveal, trusting no one with his secrets.

Despite his attempts at general ambiguity, there were a few 'tells' in his behaviour, if read carefully, that could clue your in to his inner workings.

Dustin Henderson in sheer contrast is a completely open book; wears his heart on his sleeve, has little to no filter and will openly discuss all of his favourite things, regardless of if the audience is listening or not. But Dustin is also naturally inquisitive and curious, always trying to dig deeper and see the little idiosyncrasies in people that clue him in to their internal thoughts. He notices things that most people overlook and in the case of Eddie, someone he looks up to and proudly calls his friend, his curiosity is never stronger, particularly around the subject of Eddie's concealed love life.

It started a while ago, just a random day at Hellfire when Eddie came in a little late, trying to downplay his flustered nature as he shot off a roundabout apology and began setting up his campaign as Dustin looked on. Eddie had never been late, always having the table laid out perfectly, the mood lighting and repositioning all done ready for the Paladins, Wizards and Artificers ready to commence their quest. Dustin noticed as the game wore on that Eddie smelt better than usual, not that he ever smelt bad before but he seems to have a little more cologne on and his clothes smelt clean. Sometimes Eddie's clothes would have a faint tinge of damp, like they'd been sat in the dryer a little too long before airing out and being worn, only occasionally but that seemed to disappear completely after that specific meeting.

Sometimes, Dustin swears that he can smell a faint whiff of strawberries emitting from their Dungeon Master, specifically from his hair. At first he thinks he's crazy but the second or third time it happens it's definitely too much to be a coincidence.

A few weeks later when Hellfire had just come to a close, Dustin watched as Eddie shrugged on his signature two jackets and instantly frowned as he looked at the patches on the outer battle jacket. He quickly dropped the frown on his face, unknowingly doing it in the first place, before shifting subtly closer to that he could look to see what was different. The Dio patch on the back piece of the jacket was no longer raised or peeling upwards as it had been before in the bottom corner. He couldn't see any additional patches so he put it down to a fluke that Eddie just have re-sewn the patches, this time doing a much neater job than before.

But then he notices the lunches. Eddie had always brought something easy for his lunch, a bag of trail mix or questionable nut and pretzel mixes but suddenly there were sandwiches and the odd leftovers. That's when things began clicking into place for Dustin, realising that he might actually be on to something. He kept quiet about it, uncharacteristically, until he had more concrete evidence that supported his theory.

One day at lunch, Dustin walked in to see Eddie frantically scrawling ideas and little drawings on to a notepad, an actual wire bound notebook. Dustin had asked Eddie where he got the notebook but he just received a harsh glare and a dismissive insult in reply. Unfazed, Dustin smiled to himself as he tucked into his lunch tray, adding another point to his mental list, taking Eddie's defensiveness as evidence that he hadn't just stolen it from an unfortunate freshman, it was given to him. Eddie usually scrawled onto little slips of waste paper he'd find in his pockets or donated by his friends, never having brought an actual book to school in all the years that Dustin had known him, which were then folded or crumpled up and thrust into one of his many pockets.

The first Hellfire meeting after Christmas break is when Dustin realises that he'd been right all along. Eddie lights up a smoke after getting things loaded into the truck and for the first time since Dustin had known him, he wasn't using gas station grade clippers nor a random pack of matches he sometimes carried when the shitty lighters inevitably died on him. He instead lit the questionable cigarette with a black zippo lighter, one of those that were built to last, refillable and much, much nicer than any he'd ever seen in Eddie's possession before.

Still, he says nothing, content in knowing something about Eddie that no one else did, almost gleeful actually. He decides that if he's going to find anything else out then he needs to tread carefully, not wanting to alert Eddie to his inside knowledge or tip him off that he's digging around in matters that were not his own. He has to plan this carefully, asking questions that are only appropriate in the right setting, not out of the blue.

Luckily for Dustin, the moment presents itself not too long after at Hellfire when mid roll- Eddie's shirt shifts just enough for a second chain to be seen beneath his shirt, the movement of him shaking and rolling the dice allowing the pendant and chain to slip out from under his neckline. Eddie had always worn the guitar pick necklace, he never hid that beneath his shirt but this one had definitely not always been there. Dustin doesn't miss the golden glint of something hanging from the necklace, a ring that looked like a simple band. There's a few tense moments where Dustin studies the ring intensely before Eddie notices it slip, trying to quickly instil it into his mind for future reference before Eddie is alerted to his necklace being on show.

It lasts all of ten seconds before Gareth pipes up about the curious piece of jewellery in a less than delicate manner, his face scrunched up and turned to one side as he questions Eddie about it. Seemingly not missing a beat, Eddie quickly looks down at the offending article and smiles before he stuffs it into his shirt.

"That my friends is a custom made ruling ring, one ring or Isildur's Bane if you will. Genuine lord of the rings replica, 'One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them'." He smirks dangerously at the crowd after replacing the chain inside of his shirt before crouching down and casting aside one of the figurines on the table, "now, gentleman, are you prepared for your next defeat? You've fought valiantly but it may not be enough to save your sorry hides!"

Dustin gives him a lingering side eye, knowing that there was way more to that then he's made out; He'd seen the face Eddie had involuntarily pulled when he realised his mistake. Dustin was moving in on him now, biding his time until he can make his move and actually probe Eddie for the truth.

What Dustin doesn't expect however, after the months he'd spent agonising over gathering secret intel and evidence on Eddie is that one day soon, Eddie would put himself completely due to unfortunate bad luck.

It's raining, tipping it down as the Hellfire club burst through the doors of the school in sheer elation, celebrating their defeat of Vecna and his cult. The gang separates into separates cars all waiting for them and disperse as they run to get out of the rain. Dustin's mom was at work and he'd have to cycle back regardless, cursing himself for not bringing his waterproof. Eddie offers him a ride in the van, only for him to scream multiple profanities when the van only stutters before giving up completely. He kicks the wheels in frustration, already stoked to the bone from the rain in just his two jackets before he turns to Dustin to ask for his cellphone. Dustin watches him closely as Eddie dials a number entirely from memory, moving away so that his conversation would remain private as he quickly talks to someone at the other end of the phone. Dustin quickly shies away as Eddie's gaze flickers over to him briefly, acting as if he wasn't paying attention at all, until Eddie ends the conversation and hands him back the phone.

"Got a ride, stick around and we'll drop you off at home," Eddie says, nodding his head back towards the school so that the two of them could stand under the canopy to avoid getting wetter. Dustin watches as Eddie rings out his nearly flat curls, boosting them up so that his signature look wouldn't be ruined. Dustin however, pays no mind to his wetness and instead stares intensely at the road leading to the school, not wanting to miss who would be picking them up, transfixed on the idea that it might be someone he'd been waiting to meet, or prove was real, for a long time.

Dustin has to fight back a happy jig when he spots an old looking pickup truck driving up the road towards the school, eyes stinging with the rain as he daren't even blink, desperate to catch sight of whoever was driving.

When the truck comes to a stop, he falters as he sees an old man get out, wearing a boiler suit uniform having clearly been a mechanic of sorts. He then notices the logo on the side of the truck, something or others repair shop. Eddie steps forward and has a brief conversation with him but Dustin pays no mind, throwing himself down onto one of the benches under the canopy, his chin resting on his hand as he pouts.

When the older man begins to tow away Eddie's van with one last wave and a pat to the back for the dungeon master, leaving Eddie and Dustin stranded, he shoots Eddie a confused glance. Eddie simply averts his eyes, shooting him a strange look before wrapping his arms around himself, the cold clearly getting to him.

Nearly as soon as the old truck pulls away with Eddie's van, a second truck pulls around the corner, pausing briefly window to window to talk to the man in the truck from their respective vehicles. This truck is all black and seemingly well loved, an old Chevy of sorts but Dustin's not great with car models. The trucks pull away from each other and the second truck comes to a stop outside the school, right by the canopy.

"Wait here Henderson," Eddie mumbles, eyes focused on the truck as he ducks out of the canopy and into the rain. The windows are slightly tinted so it's hard to see what's going off though Dustin desperately tries to sneak a peak at the owner of the truck.

"Haul your bike in the back," Eddie calls out, pulling open the passenger door, only to be met by resistance from the person inside the car. He huffs, closes the door and helps Dustin lift the bike onto the truck bed before he opens the passenger door again and slides across the bench, giving Dustin room to climb in.

He notices the woman driving immediately but doesn't recognise her at all. She's pretty, really pretty and is dressed in a leather jacket with a material hood that is hardly concealing her hair, dark jeans and fingerless gloves.

“Hi, you must be Dustin,” she smiles towards him and Dustin has to fight a blush that the pretty girl was talking directly to him. His momentary silent pause isn’t missed by his dungeon master, who shoots him a harsh look before letting out a low chuckle at the kids face.

“Hi,” he says shyly with a small wave, which only makes the woman smile wider.

“You’re up on Cornwallis right?” She asks, turning the key in the ignition to start up the truck. He gives a little nod, still not finding his voice entirely and she smiles back, turning to check her mirrors.

“How’d you know?” He asks only a few seconds later as the truck begins to pull away. He frowns when both Eddie and the mystery woman share a little mischievous smile, an inside joke of sorts.

“I’d like to tell you it was seeing you riding past on your bike when I’d visit Barb but,” the woman says, barely taking her eyes off the road as she navigates through the heavy rain.

“Skull rock’s just behind your house, dude,” Eddie says with a chuckle, finishing the sentence for him.

“Oh,” Dustin says, “oh.”

Both of the older constituents chuckle and Dustin takes a moment to watch them, seeing that they both had a natural ease with each other, like they’d known one another for a long time. He decides a little harmless digging wouldn’t hurt.

“You knew Barbara Holland?” He asks, watching her reaction carefully. She gives a sad little smile before shrugging gently, the faint rustle of leather ringing out in the near silent truck cabin.

“Our dads used to work together at the shop, before all the shit went down, nice kid,” she replied. Dustin watches as Eddie’s hand seems to move just slightly so that he’s touching her thigh, though it’s subtle, no doubt on account of Dustin’s presence.

“So you didn’t go to school with her?” He digs further. Something tells him that with the addition of the woman, who still remained largely a mystery to him would shield him from Eddie’s wrath if he caught on, like a buffer for the situation.

She snorts a little at the thought and shakes her head, flicking the wipers up a speed as the rain continues to pour, the windshield hardly clearing before it’s full again.

“Don’t know if I should be flattered or offended by that,” she says with a smile and a chuckle. Eddie’s mouth pulls to one side, like he was trying to hide his smirk. “I graduated in 84, spend two years at high with her but we didn’t interact much, she had her friends and well, I got stuck with this degenerate,” she laughs, gesturing to Eddie beside her. He shoves her, muttering his outrage at her statement but she merely laughs harder.

So they were at school together; before Dustin had ever reached high school. He wondered if Steve knew her? He didn’t recall him ever mentioning her, though he didn’t even know her name so that was one issue. He notices they are already on Cornwallis and he pouts again, wanting to find out more about the woman but by the time they’d pulled up to the mini intersection of Old Cherry, right by his house, it was too late.

“Thank you!” Dustin says very pleasantly as he prepares to make a run for it to grab his bike from the bed of the truck, frowning as he wonders how he’d lift it by himself.

“Eds, go help him,” the woman says, urging Eddie to help with the bike. Surprisingly, Eddie doesn’t hesitate much and does actually move to help

Dustin, who gives him an odd look.

“Thank you again, errr,” he pauses before hopping out of the cab, hesitating so that he’ll grab her name.

She’s about to reply but Eddie shoves him quickly out of the cab and reaches for the bike himself before placing it on the floor and handing it to Dustin.

“Night Henderson,” Eddie says, quickly messing with Dustin’s wet cap before he smirks and hops up into the truck again. The truck doesn’t pull away straight away and Dustin realises they are waiting for him to let himself in, checking he wouldn’t be left outside. That had to be the woman, Eddie would have been nothing but exhaust smoke and tyre screeches in the distance by now.

As soon as he opens up the garage, the truck begins pouring with loud music, something heavy and angry sounding and the truck begins to pull away with a single beep of the horn.

This brief but important encounter has only spurred Dustin on further, amping up his desperate need to find out exactly who she was and who she was in relation to Eddie. They seemed overly friendly but comfortable, could she be the one that had given him the necklace? She wished he was sat next to her so he could get a whiff of her hair; if it was strawberry scented he’d have been on to a winner. The next day, he cycled to the library, thankfully it much better weather than the previous day, and had scouted through pages and pages of source material trying to find old yearbooks from Hawkins High that might have illuminated who she was. Nothing.

He cycled to family video, scrambling for any information Steve could give but he was nearly as clueless as Dustin.

“Dude I’m telling you, I never noticed Munson until the satanic rumours started, never paid any attention to him,” Steve shrugged, already having told Dustin this at least three times but the kid was persistent.

“She had * colour hair and she was wearing a leather jacket, really pretty,” Dustin tried to explain her but Steve looks vacant.

“There were tonnes of girls with her hair colour and pretty,” he says defensively.

“I said really pretty,” Dustin says, adding the inflection. Steve huffs and takes a seat on the stool behind the counter, trying to rack his brain for anyone that might have been with Eddie. Until a faint memory appears at the very edge of his brain, making his face squint as he tries to recall it, having been so long ago.

“There was a chick, she was into rock music, saw her with Billy once,” Steve says, still squinting.

“Ughr,” Dustin says, his face distorting into disgust. Steve immediately sees Dustin’s reaction and clarifies.

“No, she told him to fuck off,” he then chuckles, “was pretty funny actually.” He’s quiet for another moment before it comes to him, the memory getting clearer in his mind, the vision of her coming into full view, he clicks his fingers in a eureka moment. “Hot girl! Munson pulled hot girl?” He sounds aghast, muttering it again under his breathe as he questions it over and over again.

“Hot girl? Come on Steve, names, I need names!” Dustin says, banging his hand on the counter.

“Alright alright! Sheesh,” Steve says, running his hand through his hair. “Umm, it was… something hot.”

Dustin gives him a thoroughly unimpressed glare but he doesn’t notice, too consumed with mentally searching for the name on the tip of his tongue. “Ashle…bec..ayleigh…Rox… y/n! It was y/n!” He clicks his finger again, smiling proudly that he’d been able to recall the information. “Y/n L/n!”

“Hey!” He suddenly shouts after Dustin who races out the door with no reply and no thank you. “I need new friends.”

Dustin wastes no time as he pedals harder and quicker, his destination set in his mind, with her name repeating in his head so that he didn’t forget even a single syllable. As he pulls up in front of his house, he doesn’t even slow before dismounting the bike, leaving it on the grass in front of his house without a single care. He runs in, completely ignoring his mums greeting and whizzes over to the phone book that Claudia Henderson always had sat on the side table. He leapt towards the book and quickly began searching for her name, endlessly trawling through the alphabetical listing until her name would show.

Nothing. It was like she never existed.

“Mom! How olds this phone book?” He shouts, his volume way above appropriate for inside. When she tells him that she only got it last month, he frowns and sinks down into the chair with a slump.

“Dammit!”

“Dusty-bun, language!”

He lays off the trail for a while, exhausted by his extreme efforts, pleased that he knew her name now but feeling deflated at not getting any further. He still watches Eddie for any signs and notices a few odd things here and there but nothing feels groundbreaking anymore.

Until the Byers’ pay a visit to Hawkins. Will is immediately accepted back into the group and whilst Mike is distracted with El and Lucas at basketball, Dustin spends most of his time with Will. Jonathan mopes around most days and even his spirited friend Argyle seems a little lacklustre and irritable at times.

“What’s up with them?” Dustin asks, nodding his head towards the two older boys who are sat on the couch moping, hugging pillows to themselves and barely watching whatever’s playing on tv.

“I thought it was just Nancy stuff you know, but they’re been like it for a few days,” Will says with a shrug, casting a look towards Jonathan and Argyle who look visibly irritated.

Later that evening, Argyle catches Dustin alone and delicately tries to swoon him with pleasantries and chitchat until he finally asks the question that seemed wholly inappropriate.

“My dude, where can we find the devils lettuce?”

“What?” Dustin asks bluntly, completely lost.

“You know,” Argyle says, mimicking smoking a blunt, “some green, some kush, Chiba Chiba, ‘pass the kutchie pon’left hand side’.”

“Weed? You want weed?” He asks bluntly, not caring for the theatrics one bit.

“Well yeah my dude, if you have to be so crude about it,” he says jokingly. Dustin rolls his eyes and walks over to the telephone on the side, reaching for the phone book and flipping it straight to ‘M’ for Munson. Eddie’s side business was the worst kept secret in Hawkins, especially to his friends even though he kept discreet about it for good reason.

Dustin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he came across the name beside Eddie’s seeing it listed directly beneath his. Y/n Munson.

“My dude! I’m the delivery guy, don’t sweat it!” Argyle shouts with a laugh as Dustin suddenly takes off, offering no explanation as he grabs his bike and pedals away, straight towards Forest Hills.

He doesn’t stop, not even to catch his breath as he nears the entrance to the trailer park, flicking his eyes around for Eddie’s van. He’d been here once or twice, mostly to try and visit Max and had spotted Eddie in the opposite plot, assuming that he lived there and had visited once when Eddie needed something for D&D that Dustin had mistakenly taken. He pushes on, catching sight of Eddie’s beat up van and the black truck parked beside a trailer and doesn’t stop until he’s immediately outside. Dismounting his bike, he gasps for air and pulls out his inhaled from his jacket pocket, wheezing as he puffs on it a few times to catch his breath.

He walks up the steps to the trailer door and knocks over and over loudly, insisting that someone come to the door. The door opens to reveal Eddie in a Metallica shirt and some lounge pants, something Dustin would never believe he would wear, assuming he wore his jeans all the time.

“Henderson?” Eddie looks around behind Dustin and pulls him inside, “the hell are you doing here?”

The place looked very, very different from when he’d been here last, the rooms clean and not fusty anymore. The walls were no longer lined with display mugs and trinkets but rather nice homely decorations that were a little off centre, framed band posters and photos of people in nice frames.

“Dustin?” He hears the all too familiar woman say as she walks through into the kitchen. She’s also wearing a band T-shirt, Judas Priest he thinks he can make out, with some plaid pyjama shorts and a cardigan. She reaches up to smooth her hair down, not having expected anyone to turn up and a glimmer of something on her left hand makes Dustin freeze, before he remembers exactly why he came here.

“You’re married?!” He asks, turning to Eddie, shocked and outraged that he’d managed to keep it a secret. The woman, who Dustin now knew to be Y/n Munson, bursts out laughing as she throws herself down onto the couch, immediately covering her legs with a soft blanket.

“You’re still playing that game?” She asks, turning to look at Eddie, who looks like he’s about to spontaneously combusts.

“Fucking Christ Henderson, you came all the way here for that?” He asks, ignoring his wife’s laughter. Dustin simply shrugs, appearing resolute on the outside but internally he’s beginning to see how much he’s overreacted.

“You ashamed of me, Munson?” His wife teases, turning her head to the side, goading him with a smile. He finally turns to her and snorts, also amused by her words.

“Yeah like getting the hottest girl in Hawkins is something I’m ashamed of.” He sends her a wicked smile and she blushes just slightly, both of them smiling at each other as their eyes meet.

“So what am I missing?” Dustin says, not reading the room. Eddie breaks his gaze with his wife to glare at Dustin for interrupting the moment, the kid clearly had a lot to learn about women.

“Just tell him,” y/n says encouragingly, reaching for the cup of tea in front of her as she watches on with rapt interest, and slight amusement.

Eddie huffs and sighs, his shoulders dropping a little as he prepares his explanation, though why he was explaining things was a little lost on him.

“We got married in October,” he pauses as Dustin immediately looks like he’s going to blow a fuse and with one harsh glare, he closes his mouth, allowing Eddie to continue. “Been together for a few years but Wayne moved out last summer so my girl moved in and then we got hitched just after,” he explains, taking a seat on the little chair, offering the other to Dustin who declines. “I didn’t tell anyone because being a married man, still in school and DM’ing a kids D&D club isn’t exactly ‘cool’,” he says, sounding honest and a little deflated.

“To be clear, you weren’t that ‘cool’ before,” his wife snarks, thoroughly enjoying the show. He shoots her a look and she simply sinks at him, seeing the argumentative look diffuse immediately from his face as he smiles at her, seeing her beaming back at him, if not a little sarcastically.

The pieces slowly meld together in Dustin’s mind, illuminating the big picture, each little thing he’d noticed now becoming clear.

“So the ring,” he says, gesturing towards the chain around Eddie’s neck. “It’s not a Lord of the rings thing?”

Y/n’s loud burst of laughter breaks the last lingering slither of tension in the room and once again Eddie sends her a warning glance though she ignores it completely.

“Yes that very powerful wedding ring forged in the fires of Orodruin by the dark Lord himself, Edward Sauron Munson. Does it enhance your Dungeon Master powers specifically or is it like an all around enchancement? Because as far as I can tell there’s been no improvement to your cooking skills,” she says with a chuckle.

“Sweetheart you are in for it,” he says threateningly, though his eyes still shine with amusement. She lifts her eyebrows once as if goading him, hopeful that his words will take on a very different meaning later.

“Why not just wear it on your hand?” Dustin asks, missing the point of it all being hidden.

“Because, Henderson,” Eddie says, leaning forward to push Dustin back to fall into the seat opposite him. “My girl got me this ring,” he says flashing him the skull ring that sat on his left ring finger. “18th birthday. Couldn’t get married using that so I got a normal band but this means more to us,” he says, gesturing back to the ring. “Plus.”

He then slips off the ring and extends his hand under Dustin’s frowning gaze until he spots what Eddie is trying to show him. Her initials, tattooed on his ring finger, concealed by the skull ring he always wore.

“Soon as I graduate, it won’t be a secret anymore, hell, I’ll probably shout it from the rooftops,” Eddie says with a beaming smile, “but for now, it’s just between us three okay?”

“Okay.”

It’s graduation day and Eddie proudly walks the stage in his cap and gown to accept his diploma before giving the finger to Principle Higgins on the way. His friends sit in the auditorium and cheer him in but no one cheers louder than ‘hot girl’ who stands and cheers, clapping loudly for her husband who had finally graduated.

“Dude,” Gareth says, pointing towards the side of the stage after everyone had walked and the procession was over. They all turn to see Eddie place the cap onto the woman’s head before pulling her in for a searing and very public kiss.

“Who’s that?”

“Hot girl?”

“What?!”

Dustin smiles, watching the pair only briefly before the scene suddenly becomes decidedly less PG, turning to his group of friends that all look on in complete amazement. He smirks, ready to unleash the secret he’d been hiding for months, keeping his tone casual as if it were completely obvious.

“Oh, you guys don’t know Eddie’s wife?”

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