#there are so many problems with this fucking series I don’t get how people enjoy that slop

[gloriousburden]

I think the fact that all the variants in the void very easily and casually accepted a crocodile being a “Loki” but Sylvie being female was so shocking to them tells you everything you need to know about the series and the people who wrote it

[cleo-fox]

Conquer

Part 2 of 5

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: The king intends to take a bride. You just never thought it would be you. (Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Chapter Summary: It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that��for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, edging, teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, semi-public sex, light Dom/sub. (see series masterlist for series warnings)

A/N: I realize that the GIF I'm using for this chapter is TVA!Loki, but the attitude is very much in keeping with this chapter, so I decided to forgo accuracy in favor of thirst. Also, you may be thinking "Part 2 of 5? I thought this was going to be 3 chapters!" Me too. Welcome to what it's like being in my brain: even I don't know what's going on here.

The wedding night isn’t the end of the sex, of course.

The immediate, sharp need for your first coupling is gone, but there’s a dull and persistent ache that keeps you coming back to his bed every night (and several times during the day). Loki is equally ravenous, if not more so.

While you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re going to fuck him, you still don’t like being the one to initiate sex. It sounds silly, but it feels like admitting to a vulnerability that you’re not prepared to acknowledge, let alone act on.

The problem is that your sex drive has skyrocketed since the wedding.

You’ve heard about this happening—the saying soulbonds are meant to be consummated, but some are more thorough than others didn’t come out of nowhere. You just didn’t think it would be a problem for you, especially once you found out who your soulmate was. 

You were wrong about this, of course—you are constantly horny. Your mind is a cineplex of perversion, constantly playing memories of the times that he has fucked you, ways he might fuck you next, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his annoyingly perfect cock. It makes you want to run your brain through the washing machine, like a couple of Tide pods and an extra rinse cycle might fix this.

But the part that drives you crazy is that he always seems to know when you’re in these moods and he always manages to claim the upper hand. It is—like so many things with Loki—profoundly irritating.

It’s all physical—your conversations are limited to the mundane or the utterly filthy. It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

You can feel his gaze caressing your body as you walk down the stairs to meet him. Your dress is gold and glittery, and hugs your curves while the slit sneaks just high enough that you know the fashion blogs will call it daring. You keep your eyes on your feet and your hand on the railing as you navigate the stairs in your heels. Normally, Loki would comment on that—something about how you needed proper education in comportment, you were a queen, queens don’t stare at their feet, people expected elegance, blah, blah, blah. Tonight, though, he’s silent as he takes you in, which you know means that he’s particularly enchanted by how you look. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to feel sexy and confident, to enjoy the fact that the most powerful man on the planet has been rendered speechless by how you look.

Are you ridiculously horny? Sure, but you’ve got it under control. You can hold out for an evening and you’re pretty sure Loki hasn’t figured it out. If he had, he almost certainly would have said something inappropriate when he offered you his arm. He’s probably going to be distracted by the gala anyway. Why had you ever doubted yourself?

When the two of you get into the limo, you remember why.��

The moment the door shuts behind you, Loki is pulling you close, his hands cupping your breasts and then sliding down to your thighs while his lips latch on to the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.

“What are you doing?” you ask, as though his intentions are in any way unclear.

“You need to come. I can smell you.” He’s hiking up the fabric of your dress.

Well. So much for him not noticing.

Your cunt clenches. “We’re in public.”

“Those windows are tinted and the partition is up.” His breath is warm on your neck as the fabric of your dress pools around your waist. 

“I can still wait.”

“Oh, I don’t think you can.” His fingers slip between your legs (when did you spread your legs for him?), gently grazing the gusset of your underwear, which you know is embarrassingly wet. “Soaked already,” he breathes, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. “You need to come.”

“I-I c-can—I can wait until—oh fuck.” 

He pushes the fabric of your underwear aside and lightly teases your clit with the tip of his finger.

“You can’t,” he rasps, lightly nipping at your earlobe. “You’re such a greedy, needy little thing. Your cunt is insatiable.”

He presses his first three fingers together and rubs your clit in a big, broad circle that makes your back arch.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flexing against the seat. “Fuck, just like that.”

“I thought you said you could wait?” he says with that mocking lilt to his voice, the one that makes you simultaneously want to punch him in the face and also ride him hard and fast and a little rough.

“Shut up,” you grit out.

He laughs low in your ear. “Oh, you don’t mean that, I know you love it when I talk you through it.”

You hate that he’s right.

“You love hearing about how tight and wet you are, how hard I am for you.” He drops his voice lower. “How hard I’m going to fuck you.”

You can’t help the quiet moan that falls from your lips.

“Yes, you love it when I talk to you like this,” he purrs. “And I love hearing what an utterly filthy, wicked girl you are.”

You whimper, despite your best efforts to keep quiet. 

“Oh, I like that little noise,” he says, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Let me hear you.”

“I hate you so much.”

You’ve said this to him before and like all the other times, he simply laughs. “Hate me all you like, darling, but you and I both know that you love what I do to you.”

You bite your lip and try to focus on the pleasure that’s rising in your hips.

“Has anyone ever made you come as hard as I do?” he muses, like he’s just making casual conversation. “From the way that you scream and beg for it, I imagine that there haven’t been very many that were capable. Your cunt has quite clearly been neglected.”

You’re going to ignore what he’s saying. That’s what you’re going to do. There’s no reason to listen to any of what he’s saying.

“The truth is that you need me, don’t you?” he says, nipping at your ear. “You need me because I know exactly what to do to sate your needy little cunt. I know exactly how to make you scream.”

You hate how close you are, hate how the impending rush of your orgasm has basically rendered you speechless, save for a few incoherent whimpers.

He brings his lips close to your ear, lowering his voice to a growl. “What would those pitiful Midgardians say if they knew their queen was such a needy little slut?”

Instead of delivering a stern rebuke, you come hard. Incredibly hard—it is arguably one of the most intense orgasms he’s given you yet, blazing through your body with a ferocity that leaves you shaking in its wake.

And he notices.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he purrs as he rubs you through the aftershocks. “I felt how hard you came, how utterly desperate you are for me to fuck you.” 

“Loki, please,” you breathe.

He tugs at your underwear. “Take this off.”

Your first instinct is to challenge him, but the fabric is now uncomfortably damp and you desperately need him to fuck you, so you lift your hips and slide your underwear down and off your legs without any complaint. He takes it from you and sticks it in his pocket.

You expect to hear the clink of his belt buckle followed by his silky smooth voice ordering you to sink down on his unfairly perfect cock. Even though you’ve just come, you want more. You always do with him. 

(You decide not to think too much about that last part).

Instead, though, he smooths his hair and settles back into his seat, looking out the window. After a moment, you clear your throat expectantly. 

He glances at you, utterly casual. “What is it?”

Your eyes narrow. He’s playing dumb and you both know it. 

“You made me take off my underwear,” you say, biting back a sharper reply.

“I did.”

“So…fuck me.”

He gives an amused little chuckle that makes your palm itch to slap him. “Darling, we’re in public, that would be unseemly.”

You roll your eyes before you can stop yourself. “You’re full of it.”

His gaze turns smoldering and stern. “And if you want to be full of my cock later tonight, you’ll change your attitude.”

You’re not sure if it’s the absence of underwear that makes you feel more aroused than usual or if he’s awakened some latent perversion you were previously unaware of. Possibly, it’s both.

Your breath hitches and he smiles like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Do you want that?” he says. “Do you want me to fill your tight little cunt with my big cock?”

You’re so far gone that you find yourself nodding before the thought of being contrary can even cross your mind.

“Well, then,” he says, flicking an invisible speck of dust from his tuxedo jacket, “you’re going to have to earn it.”

You huff out an irritated sigh and yank the skirt of your dress back down. “You’re an ass,” you say with a scowl.

“And you’re going to do exactly as I tell you or you won’t be coming at all.”

You stare at him, lips parted in the start of a complaint.

“And however much your pretty cunt is aching right now, I imagine it will be twice as worse tomorrow with no release,” he says. “If I’m feeling generous, of course. I could always make you wait longer.”

You close your mouth, biting back the urge to scowl.

He smirks. “That’s my good girl.”

Your cunt throbs. By the end of the night, your thighs will surely be sticky with your own arousal.

“This is unfair,” you grumble, crossing your arms and sitting back in your seat.

“Behave,” he says as you approach a rather impressive set of gates. “We’re almost there.”

A flick of his wrist sends seidr racing along your skin, smoothing your hair, straightening your dress, and fixing the smudge of lipstick at the corner of your mouth.

Your underwear remains in his pocket.

You have a feeling it’s going to be a long evening.

The Minister for Finance is giving a presentation. You’re not entirely sure that you would have been able to follow it under normal circumstances, but certainly not with Loki’s hand up your dress.

The two of you are seated at your own table—it’s one of the more stupid formalities he insists on, though you suppose it’s advantageous in this instance. His actions are obscured by the table and tablecloth and probably a little magic, but your heart is still racing with the thrill of it. His movements have been slow and deliberate, and the result is that he’s effectively been edging you for the duration of this forty-five minute presentation.

It feels incredible; it’s agony. You love it; you hate it.

“You’re being a very good girl,” Loki murmurs to you at one point and that alone nearly sends you over the edge.

“You’re a jackass,” you whisper back to him.

He chuckles. “If you want me to let you come once we get home, I’d suggest changing your tone, my love.”

You resist the urge to scowl, but only barely. “You made me come in the limo over here because you said I couldn’t wait,” you point out. “What happened to that philosophy?”

“It was supplanted by a desire to see what happens when I tease you for several hours.” A wicked smile curls at his lips. “Besides, I love how tight and desperate your cunt feels when I make you beg for me.”

You always come hardest when he makes you beg for him. You’d never admit it, though.

“I’d think you’d be more concerned about getting caught,” you say. “What do you think that would do to your image?”

“Oh, I think it would do wonders for my image,” he says. “Attentively tending to my wife’s needs despite potential social embarrassment? It’s rather feminist of me, don’t you think?”

“Okay, first of all, that is not what femini—” Your voice cuts out as he rolls his finger in a particularly devastating circle.

“What was that, my love?” he asks, voice thick with faux concern, his true intent easily betrayed by his shit eating grin. “You seem distracted.”

You’re not entirely sure if you’re tensing your muscles in anticipation of an orgasm or in an effort to stave it off. “You’re awful.”

His voice drops. “But I’m making you feel so very good, aren’t I?”

You take a deep breath, trying to soothe the tightening knot in your belly, even as your body is begging you to rush toward it.

“Aren’t I?” His tone turns stern and you hear the implied order loud and clear.

“Yes,” you bite out.

“Yes what?”

You swallow. You’re starting to get close, closer than he’s let you get so far. “Yes, you’re making me feel good.”

He smirks. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

You nod, taking another deep breath through your nose. Keep it together.

“I could let you come,” he muses. “Everyone’s watching the presentation. You could be quiet, couldn’t you?” His pace increases just slightly, enough for you to start to feel the tempting, shimmery tendrils of release. “Do you want that, lovely?”

It’s not a good idea, but you nod anyway. 

“I had no idea you were so filthy.” His fingers are massaging your clit more firmly and you bite back a gasp because you know it won’t be long. You’re trying to keep a straight face, but you’re struggling. You are so deliciously close.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asks quietly. He knows the answer.

You nod, not trusting your voice.

But just as you’re about to start to tip over the edge, Loki’s hand retreats and the building pressure in your hips diminishes back to that steady, throbbing ache just as the Minister for Finance concludes his presentation.

Loki is smirking like he expected this. “Ah. Unfortunate timing.”

You may kill him.

“You did that on purpose, you ass,” you hiss at him.

“Oh, you’ll thank me for it later,” he says, his voice dropping low.

You scowl at him, though you suspect he’s probably right.

You get a slight reprieve during dinner, but only in the sense that Loki’s hand is no longer up your dress. Your aching arousal remains, coating the inside of your thighs. Your heartbeat seems to be pulsing in your clit, the muscles of your cunt aching as they clench repeatedly around nothing.

While his hand is no longer up your dress, Loki continues to be as unhelpful as possible.

“Shall I let you unravel on my tongue?” he murmurs to you during the main course. “Or do you need my cock first?”

“I think you need to stop talking,” you say as evenly as you can muster.

“Whatever for?” he asks with the sort of feigned innocence that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Surely you’re not concerned that I’m going to make you come simply by telling you what I want to do to you.”

You take a slow sip of your water.

“Or perhaps that idea appeals to you?” he asks, dropping his voice even lower. “Do you want me to make you come in front of all of these people?”

There’s something about the idea that’s admittedly appealing in a taboo sort of way, though you aren’t quite sure you actually want to pursue it or if you’re just so desperate that even objectively bad ideas sound good.

“Truly, I doubt you could keep quiet,” he says. “You and I both know how much you like to scream for me and I’ve been teasing you for what, three hours now? But perhaps that’s what you want. You were about to come for me earlier. Perhaps you want them all to know what a needy little sl—ah, Stefan! So good to see you again.”

Loki has seamlessly directed his attention to the Swedish official who has approached your table. His ability to be charming and personable is irritating, particularly when he’s often been uttering absolute filth to you mere seconds before. Meanwhile, your brain has completely short circuited—your thoughts stopped being anywhere near coherent when he started touching you under the table during that presentation and your cunt is pulsing. You manage a polite smile and a pleasantly vague expression that you hope hides the fact that all you can think about is Loki throwing you down on the table and fucking you until you can’t walk straight and you’ve screamed yourself hoarse.

“You conducted yourself quite well,” Loki says softly once the man leaves. “I’d never have guessed that you’re hiding such a needy, sloppy cunt under that dress.”

You take a deep breath. “What’s to stop me from slipping off somewhere and taking care of things myself?”

His eyes flash a little dangerously and you hate how much it thrills you. “If you do that, I’ll see to it that you don’t come for a week. At least.”

You are irritated with him, certainly, but you are far more irritated with yourself for being even remotely aroused by his words.

“You’re insufferable,” you hiss instead.

Loki smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear. “We’ll see how you feel a few hours from now when I’m buried in your tight cunt.” His breath ghosts over your ear and it takes everything in you not to shiver. “I suspect I’ll find you much more agreeable. You always are when you need to be fucked.” His voice drops even lower. “And I know how much you need it.”

Your legs are shaking and you wonder how you’re going to make it through the rest of the evening.

You almost come during the concert.

It was probably easier for them to set up the orchestra on the same stage as the presentation, but it means that you’re still sitting at the same table as before, which gives Loki more than enough cover to continue touching you. His hand is creeping back up your dress before the oboe even plays the tuning note and while he’s still going slowly, it’s been four and a half hours and your body is aching for release in a way you have rarely felt.

His fingertip skates across your clit just a little too quickly and firmly and suddenly, you’re poised right on the edge. One more stroke of his fingers, just one more slight movement and you’ll come.

It’s a split second decision, so quick you can scarcely think twice about it. You desperately want to come, but even though you almost let it happen earlier, you know that a stifled public orgasm isn’t really what you want. You want him to hear you scream—you don’t want to hold back.

And you want to be good for him. You want him to reward you for being good, you want to be his good girl—

You shake your head to dismiss that thought and grab his wrist in a silent warning. Quickly, he moves his hand away, sliding it to your knee. Your cunt shudders and aches, the pulsing throb of your arousal even stronger than before.

He brushes his lips against your ear. “Oh, very good, darling. You’ll be rewarded for that.”

“You could reward me now and take me home,” you say pointedly, though it would probably be more effective if your voice wasn’t so shaky.

He chuckles, draping his arm around your shoulders. Every so often, you’ve seen a candid photo of the two of you in People or one of the other celebrity magazines and you’re always taken aback by how normal you look. You imagine that it would be the same if someone were to take a photo right now—you’d look like just another couple cuddling and canoodling instead of…whatever it is you actually are. Soulmates who hate each other but fuck like it’s their job and the rent is due? There’s no easy way to classify your relationship, which you suppose is for the best: this is not the sort of thing that should be common enough to have its own word.

“We still have quite a bit to go.” He brings his index finger—the same one that had just been up your dress—up to his lips and closes his eyes like he’s tasting something divine. “Norns, I can taste how desperate you are.”

You cross your legs in the hope that it will alleviate the pulsing ache between your thighs (it doesn’t). “You’re not helping.”

“Of course I’m not,” he says. “I told you, I want you begging for me by the end of the night.”

“How have I not already exceeded that threshold?”

He smirks. “I like to be thorough.”

Five minutes later, his hand is back between your thighs.

“Let’s try that again,” he murmurs. “Do you think you’ll be able to resist a second time?”

Somehow, you do—and two more times after that. By the end of the concert, your heart is pounding, your legs feel like rubber, your cunt is dripping, and you’d easily sell your soul for an orgasm.

“You’re doing so well, darling,” says Loki. He’s been full of praise and filthy promises and you can’t decide if that makes it better or worse.

“Can we please go home?”

He chuckles. “Of course not, that would be rude.”

“I have a hard time believing you’re concerned about rudeness, considering where your hands have been this evening,” you say with a pointed look.

“You wound me.” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it grudgingly, your legs wobbling slightly. “Now. Come help me charm the Minister for Defense. I need him to be much more cooperative about sharing intelligence.”

The only good thing about schmoozing with Swedish officials is that Loki can’t have his hand up your dress while doing so. Even so, he still finds ways to be constantly touching you—a hand on your lower back, your elbow, your shoulder, your waist. These things shouldn’t be erotic, but he somehow manages to make them so. Every brush of his fingers against your bare skin is agony: you are burning for him.

You watch the clock tick through another hour and a half while trying not to let anyone on to the fact that you’re keen to leave. Time feels like it’s dragging—even when the event officially ends, it still takes another thirty-seven minutes for you to say your farewells and make your way out to the front where your limo is waiting.

Your legs are shaking as Loki helps you into the limo. He slides into the seat next to you and you find yourself leaning into him, unable to resist any longer.

The door shuts.

“Loki—” you start to say.

“When we get home,” he says promptly.

“You can’t possibly—”

“Oh, I can.” He pulls you into his lap. “I’ve been hard for you all evening,” he purrs in your ear, settling you so that the thick column of his cock presses hard against your ass. “Do you know how many times I nearly dragged you off to some empty room to take you up against the wall?” He brings his mouth down against your neck, teeth pressing against your skin just hard enough to almost hurt. You tilt your head to the side to give him better access, guiding his hands to your spread thighs.

“Do you know why I didn’t?” he murmurs against your skin.

“Because you make terrible choices?” you say before you can think it through.

His low laugh rumbles deliciously against your throat. “No.” His hands slip underneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skating along the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your hips roll forward almost unconsciously, your breath hitching. 

“I didn’t because I know that you need to scream for me,” he says. “Just as much as I need to hear you.” His fingertip grazes your slit. “And you know that we can’t do that properly in the car.” His finger strokes your clit and you moan. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, tracing a slow circle over the sensitive skin. “I don’t think that I’ve ever made you this wet.”

“Loki—”

“I’m not giving you permission to come yet,” he murmurs, adding just a little more pressure. “I need you to be good for just a little longer.”

You let out a whine that you’re not at all proud of as he moves his hand away to gently massage your inner thighs. “Loki, please.”

“Be good.” His voice promises pleasure and punishment and everything in between and you feel drunk with desire.

“I’ve been so good,” you say, bringing his hand back to your cunt. “Please just let me come.”

“When we get home.”

“Just once. Please.”

He chuckles and brings his lips up to your ear. “You know that I’m going to take care of you,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “You know I always take care of your needy cunt. I always make you come. You just need to wait a little longer.”

“I need to come now.”

“Think about how good it’s going to feel if you wait just a little longer.”

“It would feel good now.”

“It will feel even better in our bed.” He rolls his fingers in a slow circle on your clit. “You know it will.”

You whimper, rolling your hips with his hand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this desperate,” he says. “I’m rather partial to it.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you grumble.

“Oh, I’d advise you watch your tone, darling,” he says low in your ear, sliding a finger inside you, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit. “I don’t want to deny you, but I may have to if you keep being so pert.”

As if to make a point, he slides another finger inside of you and you find yourself once again on the edge. You grab his wrist, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to hold back the rising tide within you.

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he growls and the pride in his voice makes your cunt clench hard on his retreating fingers. “You want to come so badly, but you’re being so good waiting for my permission.”

“God, this had better be worth it,” you say as you wait for the pulsing ache between your thighs to recede.

“It will be,” he murmurs against your neck. “You know it will be.” He shifts you in his lap so you face him and guides your hand to his cock. “Do you feel how hard you’ve made me? I’m aching for you.”

You rub his shaft, working your way up to catch the tab of his zipper between your fingers. He looks at you, eyes hungry, a smirk curling at his lips.

Slowly, you pull down the zipper.

“Oh you wicked thing,” he purrs, a low groan escaping him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and slowly begin stroking him. He’s rock hard and throbbing, and your hand quickly grows slick with his precome.

You lean in, brushing your lips against his ear. “I want you to fuck me,” you say, flicking your tongue against his earlobe.

He chuckles. “Are you trying to flip the tables on me, darling?”

You’re a little miffed that he figured that out so quickly. “Would that be so bad if I was?”

He laughs again. “You’re adorable.” He slides a hand along your inner thigh and back under your dress. “But I think we both know who’s really in charge here.”

Even the possibility of his hand touching your cunt has your breath quickening and your hand faltering in its rhythm on his cock.

You’re not about to admit defeat, though.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” you say, trying to keep the quaver out of your voice. You give his cock a few long, indulgent strokes. “We’re nearly there already. All I’d need to do is move a little closer.”

He chuckles, his hand sliding up to lightly tease your folds. “I would have made you warm my cock the whole ride back,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, “but I don’t think you could have done it without coming. You’re too sensitive.”

Your lips part like you have something to say, but all rational thought and the entirety of the English language has fled your brain and even more arousal is pooling between your legs.

Loki smirks like he knows all of this and he briefly strokes you from your entrance to your clit before withdrawing. “Ah, we’re nearly home,” he says, moving your hand away and patting your thigh before tucking himself back into his trousers. “Let’s make ourselves presentable, shall we?”

You climb off his lap and straighten your dress, but don’t even bother trying to fix your hair or makeup. You stumble out of the car a minute later, hoping that you don’t look like you’ve spent the entire evening poised on the brink of orgasm.

Loki, of course, is annoyingly put together. He wraps an arm around your waist and leads you forward.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you when we get to our rooms,” he says under his breath as you make your way into the foyer. 

“That had better be a promise,” you say.

“I thought we established that I’m the one who gives you orders—”

“We established nothing—”

One of his advisors—Sigurd, the same one who spoke to you in the hotel when he found you—is approaching Loki at a brisk clip.

“Your majesty—”

Loki barely takes his eyes off of you. “Later,” he says, waving a hand in Sigurd’s direction.

“Sire, it’s urgent.”

Your heart sinks. Loki stops and turns to Sigurd, eyes sharp, mouth pulled into a firm line. “It had better be.”

Despite the intensity of Loki’s expression, Sigurd looks unbothered and remarkably calm. “We received new intelligence on the matter you inquired about earlier, your majesty.”

Loki’s expression darkens and you realize with a sinking sensation that he has to go deal with whatever this is. “A moment,” he says to Sigurd before turning to you.

He lowers his voice so that only you can hear him. “Go to our rooms,” he murmurs. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

You nod and he leans in, brushing his lips against your temple. “Be good for me.”

A thrill runs through you.

By the time you get back to your rooms, though, you’re a little annoyed. He’s been teasing you for hours and when you finally get home, he suddenly has another work thing?

It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating.

Though admittedly, he did look pretty surprised and annoyed by Sigurd’s sudden appearance. It’s probably not fair to blame him for that.

Probably.

You take your time getting undressed, mainly in the hope that it will somehow hasten his return or trick you into thinking time is passing quickly. Not that you’re looking forward to him returning for any reason other than sex. You still hate him—you just really need him to fuck you. That’s all it is.

You hesitate for a long time over the collection of silk nightgowns in your wardrobe. Should you put something on? Should you just wait naked on the bed? A silky green number catches your eye. He’d probably like that. He’s pretty predictable when it comes to that sort of thing—put on his colors and he goes feral. With any luck you won’t be wearing it for very long, but you might as well do what you can to facilitate that outcome.

You contemplate underwear and decide there’s little point, given that tonight’s set is still tucked into his pocket.

You situate yourself in the middle of your bed and try not to think about your throbbing cunt. It would be so easy to get yourself off, but you know that it won’t be as good.

You need him.

You try to ignore the thought. It’s just physical. That’s all it is. You’re on edge from being teased all evening. It doesn’t mean anything.

You wait.

It’s late when you finally hear the door click open, followed by the tap of his dress shoes on the floor.

You sit up in bed, your eyes roving greedily over him. His suit jacket is gone and his tie is draped around his neck, shirtsleeves rolled up. You are loath to admit it, but it’s incredibly hot.

Before you can even get any words out, he’s striding across the room, eyes hungrier than you’ve ever seen them. His clothes disappear the second he hits the bed, followed swiftly by your nightgown. Seconds later, he’s on top of you, mouth seeking yours, cock pressing insistently against your stomach. Your hands are just as greedy, skimming up his back and combing through his hair.

“Have you been good for me?” he murmurs as he nudges your thighs apart.

“Yes.”

“Did you touch yourself?” he asks, his voice stern.

“No,” you say.

He knows you’re not lying and the hungry smile he gives you almost makes it all feel worth it. “Good girl,” he growls. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he drags his cock through your slickness. “Please.”

He chuckles as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I know, darling, I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Your cunt is so slick and sensitive from his hours of teasing that just the act of him sliding inside of you feels like you’ve reached your own personal nirvana. 

“Oh, fuck.” Your voice comes out in a whimper and your legs tighten around his waist to hold him in place because he feels so overwhelmingly good.

Loki lets out a low groan as he eases inside you, catching his lower lip between his teeth as his brow furrows. “Perfect.” He leans in to kiss you as he starts to move. His first thrust is slow but even so, it draws a whimper from your throat. He’s always felt good, but this is transcendent.

“Oh god, please don’t stop,” you gasp.

“I won’t, my love.” His voice is tender as he moves with an aching, slow precision. “Not until you’ve had your fill.”

For the first time this evening, you let down your guard. Every time he’s touched you tonight—even before the gala in the limo—you’ve had to hold back to some degree. You haven’t been able to give into it, to let yourself be completely unbound and unguarded. But now when he’s moving inside of you, you have the freedom to just be and feel and it’s exquisite. Every thrust of his hips, every reverent caress of his hands, every sigh or groan is an opportunity to discover a new kind of heaven.

“You were magnificent tonight,” he murmurs, sliding his hand between your bodies to rub your clit. “Even with my fingers playing with your pretty cunt under the table, you looked every inch a queen. My queen.”

He’s never talked to you like this before and it makes your body sing. You arch, rolling your hips with him as the building wave inside you rises impossibly high, as though every orgasm you almost had this evening is starting to arrive all at once. The tension in your hips is equally fantastic and unbearable, a supernova of sensation that may destroy and remake you all at once.

“Filthy girl, I can tell you’re getting close,” he purrs, tilting his hips so he hits the spot that makes you tremble. “You act so prim and proper in public, but it takes so very little to turn you into my perfect little slut when I get you alone.”

You are approaching the peak, the whirling center of the storm building inside you. “Loki—please, I can’t, I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, darling. Soak my cock like a good girl.”

You always come the hardest when he’s inside you and this is no exception. The pressure in your hips is suddenly and spectacularly ablaze with a shimmering euphoria that draws a raw and primal moan deep from inside your chest. You are a fountain of sparks, all the tension and desire of the evening finally reaching its apex. You have yearned for this all night and the resulting blaze is spectacular.

His pace is still slow, but Loki’s eyes are wild and you get the sense that his composure is hanging by a thread. Though his eyes occasionally flutter shut as your cunt convulses around him, his gaze is locked on you in a kind of wonder. 

“Do you have any idea how good you feel when you come on my cock?” he rasps.

Even in the throes of utter bliss, you need to hear his voice. “Tell me.”

“I would create entire worlds and walk through the fires of their destruction just to feel you come.”

You shudder out a sigh. “More.”

He picks up his pace just slightly. “I would flatten mountains and raise valleys and reverse the currents.”

“More.”

He’s hitting that aching spot inside you again and the rolling tremors of the aftershocks are starting to coalesce into another building wave. You moan and his hand moves back to your clit, slick fingers pressing and rolling in just the way you need.

His eyes shine, bright with lust as his hips and fingers work diligently to unravel you again. “I would take down the stars and bring the heavens to the earth…”

His words are making you dizzy and his movements are coaxing the pressure inside of you into a cyclone that you know is going to take you down.

“Loki, please.” These are the only words you know because your entire world is him moving inside of you, inevitable as the sunrise, the architect of the heavenly destruction and renewal that is building and building in your hips.

He shifts so his weight is entirely on his elbows, bringing his lips up against your ear so you don’t miss a single word. “I would lay my crown at your feet and forsake my name…just to feel you come on my cock.”

The coil in your hips snaps and unfurls into a starry, sparkling oblivion that has you crying out his name over and over like he’s your ending and beginning, the center of your universe. Your eyes are shut against the onslaught of intense sensation, but you can feel him reaching the blissful height he’d been speaking of. He groans and slurs out a few incoherent oaths before succumbing to you and filling your pulsing cunt with his hot release.

His mouth is on yours and he’s kissing you like he means it as he slows to a halt. You lie together for a long moment, hearts beating wildly against each other. 

This felt different than other times. There was an intensity there that had nothing to do with the sex. You don’t know what that means, other than it’s definitely not any kind of feelings for him. It must be something else. You’re certain it’s something else.

“I didn’t realize I’d be called away upon our return.” 

You’re so distracted by your thoughts that the sound of his voice startles you slightly.

“Oh, um, yeah, I figured…it seemed unexpected,” you say.

He lifts his head to look at you, green eyes intent. “Trust that there are very few things that could have pulled me away from you in that moment.”

He’s being sincere. It’s not what you expect and that scares you a little, though you can’t quite articulate why. The idea that he would care whether you thought he’d intentionally extended your wait hadn’t even occurred to you. You don’t really know this side of him. 

“So, it wasn’t like…making a proclamation designating June National Peanut Butter Month.” You know you’re deflecting, but you don’t know what else to do.

He frowns. “That can’t possibly be a real thing.”

You shrug. “It might be. Lots of governments do stuff like that. Maybe you should consider it.”

His smile is slight, but brief as he stretches and slowly eases out of you. “I will leave that to others.”

There’s a beat of quiet and you suddenly find yourself desperate to fill the silence. “What did they need to talk to you about?”

He looks at you sharply and you wonder if this was the wrong thing to say. Loath as you are to admit it, this conversation has fostered a flicker of warmth between you, a fact you only notice now because of its sudden absence.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he says as he rolls off of you. It’s not unkind, but it’s also not warm, and the discussion is clearly closed.

Part of you mourns the loss of that little spark of closeness, but a larger, louder part is intent on pretending it never existed in the first place.

“Suit yourself.”

You’re annoyed and you roll off the bed and go about your evening routine with a little more clattering and stomping than is strictly necessary. There’s a lump in your throat that you don’t understand and you’re full of feelings you can’t define. You eventually settle on the bed with your back facing him, glaring at the wall like he can see you.

But then he reaches for you in the darkness, his arms winding around your waist, nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck as he pulls you to his chest. And instead of reading him the riot act, you let him hold you and let yourself relax into his embrace, fingers twining around his. You sleep better like this, you tell yourself. That’s the only reason you’re allowing it. It’s nothing to do with him.

You’ve told yourself that every night since your wedding and every night, it gets a little more difficult to believe.

Next chapter coming soon

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 1

Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”

“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”

“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”

“Lloyd!”

His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”

“We have a problem.”

“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”

“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”

“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”

Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”

Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?

You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.

“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”

“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.

His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.

You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.

“You gonna get that?”

“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”

“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”

“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

“Start by holding her.”

“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.

“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.

“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”

“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.

“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”

“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”

Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”

“You need an au pair.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”

“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”

“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”

“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”

“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”

Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”

“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”

“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”

“I’m going to live with them.”

“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”

“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?

You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”

“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.

Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.

Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.

Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.

You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.

You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.

“Announce yourself. This is weird.”

“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”

“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”

“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”

He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”

There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”

So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”

“Is this a Dior stroller?”

“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”

“What do you do?”

“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”

“My needs? Like food?”

“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.

“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”

He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?

“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.

“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”

Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.

“That would be my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”

“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”

“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”

“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”

“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.

“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”

“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.

“When am I off the clock?”

“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”

“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.

“Dolly.”

“What?”

“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.

“I don’t like you.”

“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”

“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”

“Her name isn’t Dolly.”

“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.

“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”

“But you’re here.”

“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.

“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”

“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”

“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”

“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”

“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?

“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”

“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.

Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.

Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”

“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @buckybarnesisdaddy @patzammit @xoxo-ls @rebeccapineapple @slutforchrisjamalevans @marvel-wifey-86 @jesevans @ughdontbeboring @infantasywonderland @vampy-doll @i-like-to-read-13 @missacidburn928 @charmed-asylum @honeyhoneylovelylove

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 6/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I have only read through this once, but I plan on revising it this afternoon, so please excuse any mistakes! The next chapter will be the last, and I'm so glad you guys have enjoyed it up to this point :) You all are the best! (Also, I tried fixing as many of the tags as I could, but if it's still acting weird, please message me or send an ask!)

_________

Chapter 6:

“Shit, you have a mean right hook, but you kinda have to hit the target for it to have the impact you want!” I pant as I move just seconds before Bethanne makes contact with the wall behind me. “You learn that in pilates? Maybe I should take it up.” 

Reggie let out a frustrated grunt from the room over where Bucky was now ducking and weaving out of angry, calculated swings. 

In assessing my opponent's fighting patterns, I sense Bethanne going in for another swing. Grabbing the picture frame off the wall, I bash it into her head, where she teeters and falls back, discombobulated enough for me to move to help Bucky.

“I should have known better than to trust you two,” Reggie grunts as he gets a slight jump on Bucky, shouldering him and taking him to the ground. “Especially you’re bitch of a fake wife-”

I go to handle the comment for myself and help Bucky, but something about the slur triggers Bucky to handle the situation on his own, and the next thing I know, he’s now on top of Reggie and twisting his arms in a way that causes a wale in pain to follow. 

“That’s not how you speak about a lady,” he grits through his teeth and winds back to swing. 

At the same moment, with my attention elsewhere, Bethanne comes from behind me with a piece of glass from the picture frame -that didn’t do the job I’d hoped- and slices deeply in the back of my arm, getting a scream and hiss from me. 

She’s seething when I turn around, her own hand dripping blood on their pristine white carpet from the clamp she has on it, ready to give another slash when the opportunity presents itself. 

I hear Bucky shout my name, distracted by my injury, and then catch a glimpse of the tussle that breaks back out between the two men. One problem at a time. 

Holding the back of my arm, feeling the blood leave my body faster than I expected, I twist my head to the side at the blonde. I learned the intimidation tactic from Wanda, and when I say it works, it works…

Bethanne’s crass smile falls, and she is smart enough to take a few steps back. 

“I’m not a gentleman, so I won’t hold my tongue, bitch,” I add emphasis on the name and start walking to her with my head down and eyes glaring at her. Instantly, she turns on her heel and runs to another room, where I pick up my speed and follow her. 

I get my foot in between the doorframe before she has the chance to shut it, and dear God, I wish I had my Doc Martens right now to kick the damn thing down. I shove my shoulder into it, and she stumbles back for a lamp in the bedroom we were in now. 

Not well calculated, she throws a small one, and I dodge it as it slams into the door behind me. 

“Come on, Bethanne. All those sole cycles and bare classes, and you don’t want to see if those muscles work? Throw a hit like a woman. Let’s make this more interesting,” I move to a fighting stance and ignore the sting on my arm, knowing I have fleeting moments of adrenaline before the blood loss catches up. 

“You’re just mad you got caught,” she spits out, and I mean literally spits out. The saliva would have hit my foot if she wasn’t such a sissy. “You think we didn’t catch on from the second bug you destroyed? Pretty fucking obvious if you ask me.” 

I could hear more pieces of furniture breaking off in the other room and realized that maybe this chit-chat needed to end. 

“Sure. Let’s go with you guys figuring it out sooner. If that makes you feel better about all this,” I shrug, rolling my eyes and stepping in to move this party along. 

____________

The night before. Bucky’s POV:

Due to the wire in the bathroom, which neither Y/N nor I wanted to deal with, I had to shift my nighttime bathroom routine to the master’s. 

Like any normal master bath, there were two sinks, and I stationed myself at the one Y/N hadn’t. For the first time since coming to this place, we actually felt like a couple as we both got situated on our side of the counter and started doing our nightly regime. 

“How intense of a wire do you think it is?” she asked quietly after washing her face and dapping the water off her skin with a clean towel. 

The doors to the bathroom and her room were both closed, creating a barrier to the others. 

“I think we’re safe to talk in here,” I answered, rinsing my toothbrush I’d just used and throwing it into the travel bag I had. 

“Ok, so I can ask freely, how much longer do you think this mission is going to take?” she sighs, opening the cabinet in front of her, taking out three cosmetic vials, and putting them in a practiced order in front of her. 

“Huh?” I let slip, and she turned to me with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Huh, what?” 

I shake out of my disbelief and look at her clean and noticeably smooth face. A subtle scar next to her eyebrow being the only form of imperfection by societal rules, but I wouldn’t call it that. 

“I didn’t think you were a,” I paused, not sure what to call what I was seeing. I just saw her as someone who would splash some water on her face at the night's end and call it a day. Then again, I didn’t know enough about face creams and serums I’ve seen Nat and Wanda use. 

“A clean person?” she finishes my sentence with a harsh laugh as she brings out a spray bottle with a maroon liquid in it from another cabinet, spritz her face three times and pats it in with her hand. 

“Don’t think that’s the word I was looking for,” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair and fidgeting as I feel her gaze shift to me. 

“Not a face washer and 20 ageless serums kind of guy?” she hums, rubbing a green goop in her hands before all over your face. “Well, not all of us are aging at the rate of paint drying. Some of us have to put in effort to look this good.” 

I smirk at that because I don’t think she realizes what she just said. 

“You say I’m effortlessly handsome?” I grin, turning and resting my back on the counter as I watch her. 

She can’t seem to help her own smile and bites her lip as she fans her face, grabbing another small dropper bottle. 

“You know what? Don’t even try and pretend you don’t know you’re a pretty face,” she blushes and tries to backtrack. “God. Can you believe the difference this conversation would have been just two hours ago? And now I’m here calling you pretty.” 

“I’m not complaining.” The grin on my face hurts with how authentic it is. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think Reggie would steal you away as his wife if I weren’t already attached to you.” 

“Ah, yes. The testosterone battle that took place tonight. Glad you brought that up,” she nods, placing the finished bottles back in the cabinet and adding the last serum to her face. Her skin had a nice glow after the magic treatments. “I knew men lay their claim, but you seemed more intense than I’d imagined you’d be about that kind of stuff.”

“He was undressing you with his eyes,” I said sternly, compared to the easy-going tone we had stuck to. “He needed to be set straight acting like that.” My arms crossed as I watched her unbothered by the conversation piece.

“And you, acting like a lion ready to bite the head off of him while trying to get on their good side, was the way to counter that behavior?” 

“I wasn’t that intimidating.”

“You’re James Buchanan Barnes. You don’t have to put on an act to be intimidating. Therefore, when you put on any protective act, the intimidation act just multiplies.” She deadpans to me. 

Ok, maybe she was right… I was a little more invasive into her space this evening, but it was to prove a point. 

“I was doing my job,” I shrug, stepping closer, picking up her skincare bottle, and examining it. 

“You played the annoyed and jealous husband very well. I’ll make sure your nomination for a Tony Award is submitted.” 

I shake my head, handing her the bottle she places precisely in the cabinet. 

“Are you a neat freak?” I ask, and she turns to me, pulling her hair out of the ponytail she had put in to wash her face. 

“I’m not anal if that’s what you think? I prefer things to be organized where it’s helpful.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s what a neat freak would say…”

“Says the man who organized the spices alphabetically and sorts the coffee pods by color.” She tidies her space, wiping any water with a washcloth, and turns out of the room, flipping the light switch with me still in there. 

“When you’re cooking, it makes things easier to find. That’s just common sense. And the color thing? Well, it’s aesthetically pleasing,” I debate, following her on her heel. 

“Sure thing, neat freak…” she laughs, going to her side of the bed and getting her nightstand prepared for the night. 

I watch her, and she doesn’t seem to mind as I silently catalog her ritual. When she finally gets things settled and looks at me, waiting for a reason for why I’m still in her room, I stumble over my words. 

“You’re question earlier.” Considering the life mic in the room across the hall, I have to be careful in choosing my words. “Maybe this suburban life isn’t as bad as we thought it was. It is a nice break from our former day-to-day.”

She nods, pulling back the covers of her bed and rubs lotion from her bedside into her palms. 

“There are some aspects I’ve come to like,” she smiles genuinely. 

“Agreed.”

____________

Present Time

In seconds, Bethanne was unconscious and lying on the ground with a curtain cord binding her on the ground. She’d be occupied enough for me to help Bucky restrain his opponent and come back to move her after. 

I held the back of my arm, which was still oozing blood. The dizziness was slowly creeping up on me, but I tapped into the reserve of adrenaline to assess the chaos in front of me. 

Lucky for Bucky, he was holding his own well enough even if his opponent was double his size (but are we shocked? No.), so I moved to the kitchen for a weapon, considering we didn’t have time to prepare before this fight broke out. 

For context, this all started with me coming over here to meet Bethanne for a yoga class she had invited me to this morning. Bucky just happened to be heading home earlier from "work," given that he actually had nothing to do.

Lucky for me because Bethanne had used the excuse of yoga to corner me, and Reggie happened to be home to help, too.

I had played into their casualness to start, feeling the energy off and their disposition askew, and tried to stall for a while, knowing it would be a better fight with my partner nearby. I texted Bucky to meet me at their place with an excuse, and by the time he got there (5 minutes later), the fight broke out, and all curtains were pulled back to reveal the truth.

“Barnes!” I shout, and his head pops up from his position, trying to disengage Reggie. I throw the knife I got a hold of from across the room, and he spins, turning the giant perfectly to where the knife embeds itself in the front of his thigh. 

A yell in pain sounds, and Bucky turns to hold his head in a lock that eventually makes Reggie pass out. 

Silence takes over the space. The only sound is our panting as he looks at the damage and sees the end of our mission come to a close. Whether intentional or not…

“So, that was fun. Glad we got some cardio in,” I huff, pulling my arm closer to my body and putting pressure on the cut. 

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky runs a hand through his hair and walks to me. “Where’d she get you?” 

His hands are gentle and light compared to how he’d been using them the last few minutes. He turns me to the side, using my shoulder as leverage, and bends to look at the gash on my arm right above the back of my elbow. I had been wearing a dry-fit running jacket that clung to me, so the damage wasn’t 100% visible, I’m sure, but the hiss he lets out when he sees it leads me to believe otherwise. 

“How’s it look, Doc?” I ask and wince with a sharp breath when he pokes at it. “Dude. Jagged glass cut. Careful.” 

“Just moved the fabric,” he grumbles, still examining it. In front of us, Reggie groans. We both look at him. 

“We can play operation in a minute. Let’s tie the big guy up, and you can help me get Raggedy Bethanne from the other room in here to interrogate,” I push past his shoulder as I move to get Reggie situated. 

Begrudgingly, Bucky helped me move the sleeping giant and we shut all the blinds and set the space for a controlled interrogation. 

Currently, Bucky is on the phone with Steve, letting him know the plan went awry. We were working on getting information while we waited for a team to come collect the two perpetrators. Steve confirmed he’d send undercover agents as cops for us to wrap up the loose ends. 

In the middle of the call, someone knocks on the door, and we share a look. I’m still covered in blood, but I find a painter's poncho on the side, throw it on quickly, and grab a used paintbrush in the convenient tray next to it. 

“One second!” I shout, making a few marks on the poncho and one on my face for show. I go to open the door, praying I don’t have any blood on my face, but I did well in keeping away from Bethanne’s pathetic attempts of retaliation. 

When I open the door, I see their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Nosy-Nancy Betrum, smiling wearily in front of me. 

“Oh, hello, Charlotte,” she says nervously, trying to peer into the house around me. “Is Bethanne in there?” 

“Oh,” I perk up casually, turning behind me for a second and looking back at her. “She just ran to the bathroom. Is everything ok?”

“I just heard some shouting and crashing and wasn’t sure what was going on,” she started, still trying to peak into the background that I’m mostly hiding, so I moved a little to show the not-as-destroyed part of the house. 

“Oh, she’s doing a kitchen renovation and asked if we could help since we have some experience ourselves. The boys are hauling and dismantling some things. Lots of grunting and noise, I’m afraid,” I cringe lightly to play into the apologetic side of the conversation. “I’ll let her know we’re being too loud.” 

“Oh, ok,” she nodded, seemingly convinced but still glancing in. 

“Char, can you come help me and Reggie with this?” Bucky shouts, and I turn to look at him as he gives me an out. 

“Sorry about the noise, Nancy. We’ll try to be considerate about it. One sec, honey!” I nod back. “See you for Wednesday book club at Katrina’s next week.” I give an award-winning smile, and that seems to seal the deal. 

“Let me know how the finished project comes out,” she waves, walking down the steps.

After I shut the door, I groan as the pain in the back of my arm throbs more and more. 

“I’ll get Beth,” Bucky stands up from where he has successfully tied up Reggie and anchored him to a chair. “You go find a clean cloth and put some pressure on that,” he points out my arm that’s smearing red into the white paint I had tried to hide it with. 

“Good plan,” I nod, hissing as I move to the kitchen to make a makeshift tourniquet. 

_____________

The mission was done. I could sleep in my own bed now. My arm hurt like hell, and I was dreading the unfortunate aftercare and restrictions to come, but the mission was done, and I was headed home. 

After we got Bethanne and Reginald situated, the interrogation started, and they squealed like pigs. Well, Bethanne did, but Reggie didn’t hold out like he thought he would after some convincing with Bucky’s form of torture. Restrained if you ask me…

We had a list of other names to hunt and find. We found solid evidence in their home to prove most of it. Steve and Nat were given puzzle pieces that we had come for originally, so we were on the right path of taking down the organization Fury had been hunting.  

Things worked out for the better, even with the fact that they had successfully hidden a bug, and we were discovered. But there was a reason Bucky and I were picked for this, and we proved that. 

“What’s the diagnosis?” Bucky asked, coming into the med-bay I had been stationed in for the last hour on the Quinjet home. 

“I won’t need a robotic arm, unfortunately. I’ll have to wait a little longer before I can join your one-man club,” I sigh depressingly before I quirk a smile at him. 

“Wouldn’t be a one-man club if you joined it, now would it?” he laughed, sitting on the bed next to me where the nurse finished the stitches and wrapped a clean gauze bandage around it. 

“Thank you.” I nodded her way as she grabbed her things and walked out quietly. 

“Gonna be a minute before you back out in the ring, huh?” he asked, bumping my shoulder. “Sam hasn’t been proving to be the best dueling partner. Maybe since you won’t try to kill me now, you can take up the title? I feel like you’d be a decent match.” 

I turn to him after picking at my bandage and eye him. “Who says I wouldn’t try to kill you still? What’s the good of training if you’re not practicing the real thing?” 

He rolls his eyes and spreads his legs a little more, causing his knee to bump into mine.

“I don’t think you’ll be up for the killing portion of our fights for a bit, so I’ll take the advantage as long as possible.” 

“You think a little scratch like this has held me back from killing before?” He laughed under his breath, and we sat in comfortable silence for a minute. “The team isn’t going to believe I no longer have a vendetta against you,” I whisper. “They’re going to think we’re putting on an act.”

Bucky’s POV:

“I, for one, prefer the nicety over the insults, but that’s me personally,” I say, noticing the nerves in her comment. 

“I’m going to miss insulting you,” she sighs heavily, and I’m shocked at her closing in the space enough for our shoulders to touch. “I don’t have to give it up fully, do I?” 

I take her attempt of trying to lighten the mood and nod. 

“Considering the team is going to give us hell for it, and Steve has a bet we’ll make up in 3-weeks-”

“Wait, make up? I thought the bet was how long until we bite each other’s heads off.” 

“Nat’s bet is. She gave it until tomorrow actually. Steve was rooting for us I guess,” I shrug. 

“Hmmm,” she nods her head as she thinks things through. I’ve seen that look many times. “What if we messed with them?” 

“Channel our energy into keeping the charade going a little longer so neither wins?” 

“You really shouldn’t be betting on your friends,” she grins mischievously. 

“I’m always down for winning a second time this week,” I smile back.

Marvel Tags:

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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

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[lunarbuck]

Jane!! I'm so excited for you and your 1.5k followers! Thanks for letting me be part of the things. In an effort to help you pick back up with BFB!Bucky, do you think we can see some sexy times? Maybe early on when they're still keeping it a secret?

I'm sorry i've made you wait like over a year for anything from this AU 😭 I hope you enjoy this!!!

moodboard is for vibes only, not what reader looks like

Thinking This Through

pairing: bfb!buck x f!reader (any race)

wc: 1.7k

summary: A secret night with Bucky (from his POV)

warnings: secret relationship, fluff, pet names [pretty girl, baby, boo bear], oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), swearing

a/n: this part takes place before part 2 so it's technically out of order!! it's also in bucky's pov which was fun :)))

series masterlist | au playlist | my masterlist | 1.5k sleepover Title is a lyric from the 1975's song I'm in Love With You

I catch her eye from across the bar and find myself smirking into my beer. No matter where she is, no matter how many people are in the room, I always manage to find her. It’s like she fucking calls to me, a siren singing her beautiful song to lure me in.

Well fuck it, I don’t care if she’s a siren. I want her all to myself. 

Some girl slides up next to me, getting way too close for comfort, and batts her long eyelashes at me. “You wanna buy me a drink?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I can tell she bleaches it too much; it looks fried. 

“Not really,” I reply, not caring to soften my tone for this girl. Maybe before I would’ve bought her one, maybe I would’ve entertained whatever this girl is trying to accomplish, but not anymore. Not since Becca’s gorgeous best friend turned my world upside down.

“You sure?” I feel the girl’s long, manicured fingers squeeze my arm, and I have to bite back the urge to tell her I’m taken. We’re not telling people yet. Neither of us are ready for the consequences of Becca finding out. 

“He’s sure,” Steve says, patting me on the back. The girl rolls her eyes as Steve shoos her away, but I don’t bother watching her leave. My eyes are back on the only girl I want to see tonight and every night.

She smiles at me brightly before her friend snags her attention again. Steve orders us another round as I text her. I want her with me tonight; I don’t care where we end up. I just want us together.

Bucky: You got plans after this, pretty girl?

Boo Bear: hm… i’m not sure yet

Bucky: Boo Bear? Really?

Boo Bear: i’m surprised it took you this long to notice

Bucky: anyways, i’ve decided you have plans we’re going home together in 20 minutes. 

Boo Bear: becca’s hanging out with ethan tonight, she said she won’t be home until after her class tomorrow morning

Bucky: perfect, see you in a few, boo bear

I try not to smile too hard at my phone, especially with Steve standing right next to me. He’s caught me practically kicking my feet while I text her way too many times. It’s becoming a problem at this point. 

Steve and I shoot the shit for a bit, and I pay my tab, shooting off another text to my girl, letting her know to meet me across the street. A few minutes later, I see her exit the crowded bar. She looks fucking fantastic, good enough to eat. Her jeans are tight in all the right places, and her top shows off enough skin to make my mouth water.

I never get over how perfect she looks, no matter what she wears or where we are. I don’t know how I held off for so long; I’m addicted now. 

“Hey, boo bear,” I whisper once she’s close enough. I tug her close and breathe her in, pressing a kiss to her neck. 

“Hey, Buck.”

The second the door shuts behind us, I’m on her. I press her against the wall, loving how soft she is against my body. Her hands grip my shirt, nails gently scraping against my chest. I kiss her deeply, tasting her.

“You’re gonna kill me, Buck,” she whispers, nipping at my lip. I dip my head, kissing along the soft skin of her neck as my hands trace down her body. I hook my arms under her legs and pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. 

“You got it all wrong, pretty girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.” I walk us to the couch and sit, positioning her on my lap, and she immediately grinds her hips against me, drawing a groan out of me. 

I tug at the bottom of her shirt until she lifts her arms, letting me pull it over her head, and I bite back a moan at the sight of her in just her bra and tight jeans. My lips immediately attack her collarbone, biting and nipping a trail down to her perfect tits.

She watches me, lips parted, as my hands find their way to her back, undoing the clasp on her bra. When I pull the garment away, she shivers, and I practically come in my goddamn pants. 

“I love when you look at me like that,” she whispers, fingers tugging at my hair. I take one of her nipples in my mouth, running my tongue over the bud. She gasps, gripping me tighter. 

While I tease her with my mouth, my left hand traces her skin, the metal cool against her heated body, and my right finds the button on her jeans.

“Pants. Off, Now,” I tell her.

“Ooh, Caveman Bucky is coming out to play,” she teases, standing on shaky legs to strip her jeans off. I shift until I’m sitting on the edge of the couch, my eyes level with her belly, and gaze up at her. 

She’d never believe her if I told her, but she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. 

I run my fingers along the band of her panties; she’s ticklish there, before I tug them down her legs. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Buck,” she tells me, reaching for my shirt. I let her pull it off of me, my jeans following soon after, and before I know it, I have her pressed into the couch with my head between her legs. 

I love the way she grips my hair, showing me exactly what she wants while I eat her out. My hips grind against the couch, seeking any sort of friction I can find. I work her up with my tongue and fingers, desperate to feel her come.

Her face twists up, and she makes these beautiful breathy sounds, and I know she’s close. “Come on, baby, come for me,” I practically grunt, circling her clit the way she likes.

She comes with my name on her lips, and I can’t help but smile, knowing I’m the one that gets to do this to her, the one that gets to have her like this. I shift off the couch and pick her up, carrying her to her room. 

I settle her onto the bed, kiss her until she’s breathless one more time, and run out into the main room to grab our clothes. We can never be too careful. Once I’m back, I pounce on her. I’m starving when it comes to my girl. I can never get enough.

“Please, Bucky,” she whines when I settle myself between her legs. She can feel how much I want her, how badly I’m aching for her, but I need her to beg a little more.

“Come on, baby,” I whisper. She knows what I want her to say.

“Fuck, Bucky, please fuck me.” I grin and sit up, watching her writhe on the bed. I fucking love her like this.

“You want me to fuck your pretty pussy?” I ask her, running my thumb over her sensitive clit. 

“Please, please, please,” she chants, giving in to the feeling. 

“Your wish is my command, baby.” I line my cock up with her and slowly press in, gritting my teeth at how tight she is. Once I’m fully inside her, I don’t move slow; I don’t give her much of a warning before I set a quick, deep pace.

I kiss her all over, needing to feel her everywhere. Her hands grip my back, scratching her nails against my skin, and I love that I’ll probably have marks tomorrow. Steve’ll probably give me shit, but I can’t wait. 

I lose myself in fucking her, in pouring myself into the beautiful girl below me. She’s blissed out, loving the pleasure I give her. I press deeply inside of her, making her moan. She clenches around me, and I know she’s close again.

I help her turn over, lifting her hips into the air. She settles her upper body onto the mattress, and I have to groan at how perfect she looks like this. Gripping her hips, I press back into her and fuck her, my dick hitting deeper inside her in this position. 

She’s a bumbling mess, moaning incoherently, and a sense of pride bubbles up in me. I know I won’t last much longer, so I reach around and find her clit again, bringing her back up to her peak.

“Come on, pretty girl.” She presses her hips against me, begging me to keep going. “I know you wanna come again; you wanna come all over my dick, don’t you?” She nods even though her face is pressed into the mattress.

“Yes, Bucky.”

“Then come for me, baby. I wanna see you come on my cock.” I fuck her harder, picking up the pace on her clit, and a few moments later, she comes hard, sending me over the edge right along with her. 

Together, we collapse onto the bed, and I pull her close, needing the skin to skin contact. I know I need to get up and grab a towel so I can clean her up, but right now, this is where I need to be. I need to be wrapped up in my girl.

As we’re catching our breath, I hear the front door click open, and the familiar sound of my sister’s voice rings loudly through the apartment. I roll my eyes as I stand, looking for my boxers. I look over at my girl and see her frantically searching for her phone. When she grabs it, she shows me a text from Becca saying that since Ethan’s roommate is home, they’re coming back here.

I stifle a laugh; we always have shit luck with this stuff. We settle back into bed and wait for Becca and Ethan to find their way into Becca’s room, but in the meantime, I enjoy cuddling with my beautiful girl.

I want to go public. I want to tell Becca. I hate all this secret stuff, even though it’s fun sometimes. Hopefully, she feels the same. I press a kiss to her forehead as she scrolls through her various social media apps and make sure she knows just how much I like being here with her.

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general tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14 @nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @chibijusstuff @midnightramyeoncravings @wickidlady @buckyb-stan @adoreyouusugar

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series tags: @peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @enchantedbarnes @writerwrites @beefybuckrrito @thatblackravenclaw @cloudyfeel @broco8 @searchf0rtheskyline @itsashleektchm @emmabarnes

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Too Far

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Part three

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Long, thick and hard in your hand. You're in the middle of a club, surrounded by tons of people, your hand around Javier’s cock and yet you don't care. He doesn't care.

Javier just fingered you dumb and now you've managed to pull his cock out of his pants. You jerk him slowly, fingers squeezing him gently.

He's breathing heavily, eyes shut tight, jaw clenched. Little sounds leave him every now and then and you can feel yourself getting wetter. You just want him in you. You need to feel his cock in you, you need to feel him thrusting into you, need to feel him fill you up.

You kiss his jaw, lick his neck. His hands are gripping onto your hips with so much force, you can feel the bruises forming.

“Angel,” he says breathlessly, his hips starting to buck against your hand. You like the nickname, it's sweet, soft…But it's also a little ironic. He calls you an angel even though you're doing this in public. Or maybe it's because you seem to be doing such a good job.

“Angel, wait,” he grunts, biting his lower lip. “Wait.”

You slow the movement of your hand but don't completely stop. “Yeah?”

“I need—fuck—need to leave. I should leave before I do something I regret.”

You frown slightly, releasing his cock from your grasp. “If you don't want this, I can just stop—”

“No. That's not the problem. Trust me, I want this. I just…you can do so much better than me,” he says quietly, those dark eyes meeting yours. “I'm not good for you.”

You lean closer to him, lips grazing his, your breath brushing his skin. “Let me decide for myself,” you whisper, hand returning to his cock.

He shakes his head. “I'm serious. You're-you're just too good for me.”

You giggle softly, squeezing his shaft, thumb rolling over the tip as it drips with precum. “I can misbehave, if it'll make you feel better.”

He chuckles roughly. “Ah, fuck.” He glances around. “I'd fuck you right here, right now, angel. But there are so many people. No one else should get to see you.”

Your heart starts beating faster at his words, at his possessiveness.

“Then let's go somewhere we can be alone,” you say quietly, leaning your lips closer to his ear. “Somewhere we can do whatever we want without having to worry about anyone else.”

His eyes darken, pupils blown wide with lust. “The back of my car,” he whispers, as if thinking out loud, while he tucks himself back in his pants. “Right now.”

*

You let him lead you, let him take you to the back of his Jeep.

Thank fuck for spacious back seats, he thinks as he guides you into the car. The windows are tinted, the parking lot is full of cars but void of people. It’s perfect.

Don’t, a little voice in Javi’s head is begging. Don’t do this. C’mon, she’s so young. She’s not thinking straight. She thinks she wants you, she doesn’t really know how much of a mess that’s going to be. You should be the adult, tell her no.

He shuts the car door after himself and pulls you onto his lap. His every thought evaporates. Good or bad, every thought dissipates. The only knowledge left in his mind is a) there is a condom in his wallet, and b) he needs to fuck you now. Before he loses his mind and comes untouched.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he says, hands wandering up and down your waist, fingertips grazing your breasts.

He helps you out of your blouse gingerly, undoing each button with patience. He wants you to enjoy this, wants to drag the moment out for as long as he can.

This is only going to happen once, so I better make the best of it.

Your bra comes off next, revealing your perfect breasts. He’s quick to kiss from your neck down to your collarbone, and then his lips find one of your nipples. He sucks on it, licks it, teeth gently tugging at it. Your other nipple is quickly taken in by his fingers. He sucks and pinches and licks and kisses until your back is arching and you’re panting.

Until he can feel you dripping onto the fabric of his pants. Until your slick is seeping through.

Fuck.

He releases your nipples, the nubs now swollen from the attention, and he kisses your mouth. Your lips are soft and you taste sweet, of the piña colada you had and a certain innocence he is not worthy of.

His hands wander to your thighs, pushing your skirt up and bunching it around your waist. He holds your hips, eyes falling to your soaked panties before meeting your eager gaze.

“Angel, are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice hoarse and breathless.

You nod. “I’m absolutely sure,” you tell him. “I want you, Javi. Please.” You undo his pants, unbuckling his belt, undoing the button, pulling the zipper down, hands eager and needy.

“Fuck,” he groans, cock in your hand as you pull him free. “Alright. Alright.”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He retrieves the foil packet and opens it with ease. He slides it on, the car quiet except for the sound of your heavy breathing and his panting.

When the condom is in place, you grab onto his shoulders, adjusting your hips on his. He grabs you by the waist, keeping you from sliding onto him. When your gaze rises to his, he firmly says, “If you want to stop, you tell me.”

You nod, trying to lower yourself onto him. He keeps you from it. “Repeat it,” he orders.

“If I want to stop, I tell you,” you repeat breathlessly, sounding eager and needy, and Jesus fucking Christ, Javier just wants to fuck you.

“Good girl.” He grabs your hips and slowly leads your body down. The tip of his cock, an angry red with need, probes against your entrance and he groans.

A little breath leaves you and your hips rock against him, allowing him to slide between your folds and smear your slick all over his thick length.

He grabs his cock in hand, aligns himself and then leads you onto him.

Your pussy is warm, tight, soaked. You moan as he slowly guides you down and he watches as you take every inch of him. He grunts, chest heaving with each breath, and is amazed as you stretch to fit him.

When he’s all the way in, he pauses, giving you the time you need to adjust, handing the control of the situation over to you.

He glances up at your face. Your eyes are closed, eyebrows pinched together, mouth slightly agape. Your heavy breathing and little whimpers make him throb with the desire to just rut into you, fuck you hard until you’re begging him to stop.

But not now. Now, it’s your call. This is your decision.

He kisses your neck, licking your jaw. “You feel so good, baby,” he murmurs, inhaling the sweet scent of your sweat. “So fuckin’ tight. Look at how you take me so well…”

You slowly move your hips, starting to ride him. He keeps himself back from thrusting up into you. Taking deep breaths, he manages to control his urges and just lets you do it how you want.

The sounds that leave your mouth are heavenly, the feeling of you clenching around his cock has him biting his lower lip, trying not to come already.

While you ride him slowly, hips moving softly, exploring to find the best angle, he moves one of his hands from your hip to your clit, his thumb adding soft, gentle pressure there.

You gasp, writhing, hips bucking to meet his touch. He chuckles, an almost guttural sound that makes you clench him tighter.

“Such a good girl. Look at you.” He smirks, keeping his thumb on your clit while his other hand moves to grab your chin and force you to glance down. “Look at how well you take me. Oh, you’re doing so good, baby. Such a good little thing…”

You whimper, spurred on by his words, riding him faster. “Javi! Javi!” you squeal.

He clenches his jaw, his hips not obeying him and starting to thrust up, meeting your movements. “I know, angel. I know.” He kisses your neck, bites the sensitive skin there. He wants to leave a mark, wants others to see. He just wishes they could know it was him.

As your movements start to stutter, Javi takes over. He grabs your hips, holding you up, and fucks up into you. His cock slides in and out with ease, the obscene sound of your soaked cunt imprinting itself in his mind along with the image of your bouncing breasts and the sight of your beautiful face caught in ecstasy.

Javier knows he’s going to think about this moment for a long while after tonight. He’s going to use this memory over and over, in the shower, late at night, when he’s with his hookers. No more imagining what you feel like. The memory of your pussy around him is going to haunt him until the end of his days.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunts, admiring you as he feels you clench around him. “Come for me, angel. I know you’re close. Play with that pretty clit for me, lemme watch you.”

You obey, hand desperately rushing to your nub to rub it in hard, quick circles. Your moans fill his ears and the car shakes under the two of you.

Your climax hits you with so much force that you throw your head back, back arching, every muscle going tense. And then you shudder, gasping, moaning, nails digging into his shoulders.

The sight, the feel, the entire experience of watching and feeling you reach your orgasm sends Javier over the edge. He spills into the condom, grunting, fingers kneading the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck,” he gasps as he starts to come down from his high. “Fuck, angel.”

Weak, exhausted, you lean down and rest your head on his shoulder. “God, Javi...” Your voice is soft, breathless.

He grins at himself a little, knowing he did a good job.

He kisses your forehead gently. “You did so well for me, y’know that? So, so well. You were such a good girl.”

*

His praise makes the soft blush on your cheeks intensify and you giggle. “Mmm…” You kiss his jaw, his cheek. He smells of sweat, musk, cigarettes, whiskey…

Danger.

You nuzzle your face into the crook between his shoulder and his neck. “We should make this a regular thing,” you venture, a little nervous that he’ll turn you down.

You’d heard the rumors. Javier Peña, the womanizer. Javier Peña, the man who just sleeps around. Javier Peña, the flirt. The heartbreaker, the cocky asshole, the temperamental and ambitious and dangerous man.

Javier Peña, Javier Peña, Javier Peña.

His name is on the lips of every woman at the embassy. You included. Those late nights, thinking, imagining, dreaming…Your fingers deep in your cunt, your eyes rolling back in your head as you moaned Javi, Javi, Javi almost with the hope he’d appear in your bedroom and do it himself.

You’d been warned by all the other women, been warned against the danger he poses.

But you’re willing to risk it all if it means he’ll fuck you like this again.

*

He holds your gaze, eyes flickering across your face.

Are you serious? Are you actually asking him for more?

He pauses, biting his lower lip.

No, his conscience screams. Tell her no. It’s a bad idea. You’re not good for her. Don’t, don’t don’t. Just let her down.

But, fuck, the way you’d felt around him, those doe eyes of yours. Your moans, your perfect body…

“You sure you wanna get into this with me?” he asks instead, ignoring everything within him that begs otherwise.

You smile gently, kissing his jaw. “Yeah,” you say softly.

Your kiss sends shivers down his spine and the blood is already pumping down to his cock again. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, angel,” he warns, rolling you over to pin you under him, your back against the soft material of the car seat. “If I get my hands on you, I won’t be able to let you.”

Your eyes shine and his heart just about stops. “You won’t hear me complaining,” you whisper.

He smirks. “Good. I just wanna hear you scream my name.”

Javier doesn’t know anything for the next hours except for you, the feeling of your body, your scent, your moans. He loses himself in you. And good God, he’s going to hell for this, but at least he’ll die a happy man.

Thank you @cafekitsune for the dividers!! I'm in love with them!

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I'm sososo obsessed omg someone send help 😩😩😩

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 3

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: Dramatic reveals are revealed, dramatically (or, you and Steve tell the gang about Baby Harrington and it does not go well).

Warnings: language, food mentions, everyone is angry all of the time

Word Count: 7965

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Notes: I'm so sorry this took as long as it did! I've been going through it lately but through the power of boygenius I was actually able to finish this bit the other day! Please enjoy and also no one is allowed to be mad at me lol

Steve Harrington was going to be a dad.

The funny thing that came along with that was that Steve was actually going to have to tell people.

He imagined that there were many couples who would be very excited about this prospect. There were lots of young men out there who had mothers begging them for grandchildren. His hadn’t quite gotten there yet.

You had told him that you wanted to put off telling people for as long as you could. He entirely understood why; times had changed quite a bit since his mother’s day, but still, being an unwed mother in Smalltown, USA was relatively frowned upon. Honestly, considering just how gossipy the population of Hawkins tended to be, Steve was surprised the front desk ladies at your doctor’s office hadn’t already spread the news like wildfire, HIPAA be damned; golden boy Steve Harrington and his childhood best friend, having a baby out of wedlock? That was some front page stuff, right there. 

Married or not, though, it was going to have to happen sooner rather than later. In a few weeks time, it was going to start getting very difficult to hide. You were going to begin showing any moment now, and as Spring started to settle in, it brought its warmer temperatures with it. You could only hide behind your winter coat and thick sweaters for so long. 

And not just your bump; your friends were beginning to pick up on the fact that there was something going on.

“Steve!” Robin barked before tossing a wadded up ball of old receipts at him. It hit him square between the eyebrows. “Stop moping and do your job, please?”

“I’m not moping,” Steve defended (he absolutely was), before turning back to the pile of returns he was supposed to be sorting through.

“Fuck off, yeah you are,” Eddie very helpfully added.

“See, this is why I don’t like it when you hang around here,” Steve said, pointing a pen toward Eddie. “You two always gang up on me!”

“Why do you think I’m here at all?” Eddie quipped back with a smirk. 

“Because you don’t have anywhere better to go?” Robin supplied.

“That, too.”

“Either way, I’m not moping,” Steve assured. “I’m fine.”

“That’s a fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Eddie said over the click of the markdown gun, as he emptied its bright orange stickers down that back of his arm. Steve couldn’t help but notice that he had set the price to ‘WAS $4.20, NOW $0.69’.

“Stop that,” Robin huffed as she whipped the tool out of Eddie’s hands. “Steve, I can practically see the rain cloud floating over your head.”

“Oh, my god!” Steve didn’t really want to snap at his friends, but he did it anyway. “Nothing is wrong! I am fine, everything is fine!”

Eddie and Robin just stared at Steve like a pair of deer in headlights from across the counter. They both knew how easily frustrated Steve could become, and they’d be the first to admit that sometimes they can poke at him a bit too hard, but an outburst this quickly had been unexpected. Neither said anything, and Steve just sighed.

After a moment of awkward silence, Eddie spoke up once again. 

“Lady problems?”

“Get out!” both Steve and Robin exclaimed, in unison.

“I thought you guys liked me.” Eddie feigned offense.

“You do not work here!” Robin said as she grabbed onto his shoulders and shoved him toward the door. “And Keith’ll get pissed if he finds out you were here and didn’t spend any money, so go home.”

“Fine,” Eddie relented from the entryway. “Hey, I’ll see you guys on Saturday, right?”

“Of course!”

“Probably not.”

“You claim nothing is wrong,” Eddie said, pointing to Steve. “And yet, in the same breath, turn down free beer?”

“Leave!”

“I love you both!”

The bell above the door rang as Eddie walked out, and Steve was left in Robin’s concerned gaze. 

“Y’know, Eddie does kind of have a point,” Robin said after a moment. Nine times out of ten, Robin was able to coax Steve out of his quiet and get him to talk about whatever it was that was eating at him, a fact that Steve was highly aware of. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Steve barked back. If this conversation didn’t end in the next two minutes, he would jump off the roof. 

“You haven’t hung out with any of us in weeks!” Robin exclaimed “Weeks, Steve!”

“I’ve been busy,” Steve lied.

“Busy with what?” she inquired. “Do you have another job I don’t know about, or something?”

“I’m allowed to do things without you around. You know that, right?” It was meaner than he needed to be.

“Oh, god, this isn’t about your lover, is it?” Robin drawled with a scowl.

“You know her name, and you don’t have to say it like that,” Steve responded.

“You two got back together, didn’t you?”

She hadn’t quite gotten it head on, but it was probably as close as she was going to get.

“I knew it!” Robin looked like she was going to explode. “I fucking knew it!”

“Please don’t turn this into a thing,” Steve pleaded.

“Me turn it into a thing?!” She was mad now. “You two are the ones turning it into a thing! You cannot keep sneaking around like this, it cannot possibly be healthy!”

“We’re-” Steve huffed out a breath. This tightrope he was walking across seemed to be growing more and more thin. “Working on it.”

“Can you work on it a little bit faster, please?” Robin asked as she punched out. “You two are so fucking weird about each other. Split, or make it official, just do something, because I hate having to keep this secret for you, it’s exhausting!”

“We sort of already did. I think,” Steve confided. Partial truth is better than no truth, right?

“Split?”

“Make it official.”

“Oh, thank god,” Robin sighed, tossing herself across the counter, all dramatics. “I can finally quit having to cover for you.”

“Don’t say anything yet.” Steve was quick with his damage control. “We, uh, we wanna do it. Ourselves. Figure it’ll probably go over a little bit smoother that way, y’know?”

“Fine, but if you don’t tell everyone soon, I’m going to,” Robin said. “Don’t think I’m the only one who’s noticed something off with you lately.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Everyone is worried about you, Steve,  it’s not just me,” she explained. “Dustin was about two seconds away from showing up at your house after you bailed on us last week.”

Steve didn’t know that. It sent a lightning bolt of regret through his chest.

“The faster you two can get your shit together, the better. I’ve been happily cleaning up this mess for you, but I’m starting to get fucking tired of it, Steve.” Robin looked at her watch. “I was off ten minutes ago.”

She was out the door before Steve could even think up an apology.

Steve and Robin didn’t get into fights often, but he absolutely hated it every time they did. Even silly little arguments left him wracked with guilt sometimes, but proper, go-for-the-throat type fights made feel sick. 

Pair that with the fact that he was making Dustin worry, and Steve felt about ready to hurl. 

God, this was difficult. Stupidly difficult. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you’d agree to just run away with him so he didn’t have to deal with any of it. 

If he could just pluck up the courage to tell his parents, that would at least be a start. They were the difficult ones, the conversation he was dreading more than any of them, and the wild anxiety ate away at him for the rest of his shift. By the time seven o’clock rolled around and he was finally able to go home, it was entirely all-encompassing.

Fuck it. It had to get done either way, right?

The drive from Family Video to his parents house, no longer than ten minutes, felt as though it stretched across half an eternity. The vicious anxiety ate away at his stomach as he drove, and with each turn, each mile crossed, it only increased. Maybe he should just turn around. Maybe he should go home to you, and his parents could just figure it out on their own. He was sure his dad would love that.

Steve pulled into the driveway and was very close to losing what little nerve he had. He turned off the ignition, this is a bad idea. He got out of the car, this is a bad idea. He walked up to the front door and let himself in, this is a bad idea.  

He could hear the commotion of his mother making dinner in the kitchen. Something was sizzling; popping and crackling with the smell of onions and garlic, of bell peppers and roasting meat. 

Steve had lots of reasons to be jealous of other peoples’ parents, but at least his knew how to cook.

“Steve!” his mother exclaimed once he walked into her view. One hand was occupied by a wooden spoon stirring a pan of vegetables, the other holding a frosty glass of white wine. “I didn’t know whether or not to expect you.”

“You barely even live here anymore,” his father chided from where he was sitting at the counter. His suit coat was off and he had a matching wine glass sitting on the table in front of him. Nine times out of ten, Steve’s parents were able to be amicable with one another. At this point, they acted more like roommates than husband and wife, but at least they were roommates that were able to stand being in the same room as one another. Usually. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you before I left.”

“Sit down! Have a drink,” his mother insisted. She pulled another wine glass out of the cabinet and the bottle out of the fridge. 

“Oh, no, I’m alright,” Steve said as he sat down. His mother poured him the glass anyway.

He was about to ruin a perfectly good dinner, Steve thought to himself. His mother probably poured over it all day. The roast that just got pulled out of the oven was probably expensive. 

“So, what’s been going on with Steve these days?” his father asked him. 

Now or never.

“I actually wanted to, uh,” Steve stuttered out. “I wanted to talk to you guys.”

“You didn’t crash your car, did you?” his father said, only half joking.

“No, the car’s fine.”

“Is this about that girl?” his mother asked as she turned the stove down to low, mischief painting her voice.

“Girl? What girl?” His father pointed his gaze over to Meredith. 

“He met a girl,” she responded. She seemed almost giddy with excitement.

“Finally,” his father said. He said it like it was a joke, though it didn’t feel all that well meaning to Steve. 

“Oh, tell me it’s Giada’s daughter from down the street,” his mother said. “Have you seen their kitchen? I’d never have to host another Thanksgiving ever again.”

“No, it’s not- no.” Steve wasn’t even sure he knew who Giada was, let alone her daughter. 

“Well, at least give us a name, Steve,” his mother said. “Is she cute?”

When Steve said your name, he felt almost like he was condemning you. Like just uttering it strapped you to him, so now you’d both be falling from grace. 

“The one who grew up across the street?” his father asked, as if you hadn’t known him your whole life.

“Oh, that’s just too sweet!,” his mother exclaimed. “It’s like a movie, ugh! I’ll have to give her mother a call, she’s going to be thrilled!”

Good luck with that, Steve thought to himself. She won’t even answer the calls from her own daughter.  

“Took you long enough,” his father said, leaning back in his barstool, lackadaisical. 

“What?” Steve responded. He was wildly unimpressed by his father’s haughty attitude.

“You two have been making googly eyes at each other since you were eight,” he explained. “Frankly, I didn’t think you had the balls to do anything about it.”

“Ron,” his mother chastised at the choice of words.

“What? Obviously, I was wrong.” Ron pointed his gaze back to his son. “Y’know, I think she could be a good influence on you. Steady job, good work ethic. She’s a bit of an oddball, though, but I guess with a father like her’s, could you really blame her?”

Leave it to Ronald Harrington to judge other peoples’ parenting skills while simultaneously insulting his son’s girlfriend. 

“Don’t be rude,” Meredith said. Her back was now turned to the two men, arms elbow deep in the sink. “Such a shame her parents moved away, though. I couldn’t imagine going that far without bringing your daughter with you. Is she still living on the south side?”

“Yep.”

“That’s not the safest area in town,” she commented. “Did you hear about that house fire down that way? The woman on the news said that it might have been arson. Arson!” 

“It’s alright,” he placated. “Not as bad as it used to be, at least.” 

“I still don’t know if I like the idea of a girl like her living all by herself in an area like that,” she said. 

“You’ll have to invite her over for dinner once I get back,” his father said, entirely oblivious to the topic of conversation between his wife and son.

There was a moment of silence between the three of them. His mom took a sip of her wine and stuck the meat with a cooking thermometer, his dad refilled his own glass, and Steve felt his stomach do a backflip. This was going poorly.

“If there’s something else you have to tell us, you might as well just rip the bandaid off quick.” His father hit the nail on the head, that was for sure. He paused for a moment before making the kind of poorly timed, borderline insulting joke only someone like his father could. 

“God, she’s not pregnant, is she?”

Steve went rigid, and he kept his gaze trained on the swirls in the marble countertop. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t bring himself to, so he just left his parents to piece his silence together on their own.

“Steve,” his mother demanded. She had a carving fork gripped tight in her white knuckled fist, planted hard against the edge of the countertop. Steve was pretty sure she was about to stab him with it. He couldn’t look either of them in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to squeak out. He could feel tears beginning to well up in his eyes. 

“Goddamn it, Steven!” his father exclaimed, slamming his hand onto the counter. It made the glasses rattle. “This has to be some kind of joke!”

“I’m sorry!” Steve said, louder this time. “Fuck, I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?” his father asked. “You didn’t mean to? You didn’t think it would actually happen?”

“I don’t know,” Steve responded. He suddenly felt very small, confronted by his father’s booming voice.

His mother stood silent in her spot on the opposite side of the kitchen island, but there were definitely tears running down her cheeks, and anger radiating off of her in horrible waves that Steve wasn’t used to. 

“No, you don’t, because you weren’t thinking at all, were you?” His father fumed. He was standing now, towering over Steve despite the fact that the two of them were almost the same in height. “For Christ’s sake, Steven!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ll have to marry her-”

“We already talked about that. She said she wants to wait,” Steve explained quickly.

“No. No, this is not a question of want, Steven. I don’t care about what you want, you’ve forfeited that right! You both have!” his father spat back. 

“I’m not gonna force her to marry me against her will, dad, I’m not evil!” He shouldn’t have said it that way, he knew that. But god, he was mad, and a low blow like that was just as satisfying as he thought it would be. 

At least this hadn’t happened when he was 16. He would have been well and truly fucked if this had happened when he was 16. 

“You know what? Maybe this is just the thing you need,” his father snapped.

“What?” Steve asked, confused.

“A big mistake for you to finally learn a thing or two.”

Steve wasn’t particularly fond of his father’s use of the word ‘mistake’.

“I leave for Santa Monica tomorrow morning. I’ll be back in a week,” his father stated. “I want you out of my house before then.”

“Ronald,” Meredith broke her silence, exclaiming from behind the tears. Steve knew she wouldn’t explode the way his father was doing, but she really looked like she wanted to.

“No! We have been defending him and making excuses for years, Meredith. Years! If he wants to go play house with his little girlfriend, that’s fine by me, but he’s not gonna do it under my roof.” He doubled down and turned his gaze back to where Steve was sitting. “I think it's a damn good time for him to learn that his actions come with consequences.”

The older man turned away at that and pulled his keys off of the hook on the wall.

“Where are you going?” Meredith called after him. He didn’t bother with an answer, only walked out and slammed the door behind him. 

Steve was left alone with his mother, which was simultaneously much better and far worse. 

“We were already planning for me to move in with her,” Steve said. If his father had stuck around for a minute longer, he would have been able to explain that to him, too. “She needed a roommate anyway.”

His mother scoffed and shook her head.

“Look, I know that-”

“You make it incredibly difficult for me to be on your side sometimes, Steven,” his mother interrupted.

“I know,” Steve agreed. He did know. 

“I wish I could say that I thought your father was being irrational, but I don’t know if I can,” she sighed. “For once, I think he and I might be on the same page.”

“You are?” Steve asked. His father’s vitriolic anger hadn’t come as a surprise, he’d been expecting it, but he thought his mother would be at least a little bit understanding. She always had been before. Steve guessed that this was different, though. 

“You’re not going to be able to live in that apartment forever, Steven,” she said.

“I know that.”

“And you’ll definitely need a better job. I highly doubt your father’s previous offer still stands, by the way.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” she asked him. Her voice had a bite to it that he had never been on the receiving end of before. “You’ve been saying ‘I know’ for years now, Steve. You know you need to grow up, you know you’ll have to move out someday, you know you have to do something with your life, yet you have never made any actual effort to do anything about it!”

“Mom, that’s not true-”

“If you want to start making big, adult choices like this, you’re going to have to start acting like one. Clearly, you’re not a child anymore.” 

His mother untied her apron and tossed it onto the counter before leaving the kitchen, heels clicking on the tile.

Steve’s whole family had been waiting for that thing; that final, fatal event that would break the Hawkins Harringtons for good. Aunts, uncles, cousins, all piecing together whatever bits of gossip they could, knew that the string that tied Steve to his parents was being pulled thinner and thinner and thinner. His mother could only do so much mending for him, and everyone had spent the last few years waiting with bated breath for that string to snap, for Steve to lose his footing. Once it did, he would plummet.

Steve was now standing alone in his childhood home, scissors in hand. 

Steve didn’t know what to do, so he stood up and turned off the stove. He pulled out a tupperware container and boxed up the vegetables. He wrapped the meat in foil and left it out on the counter, because it needed to cool before it could be put away, or else it would screw with the temperature inside the refrigerator. He found a stopper and closed the bottle of wine, placing it in the fridge before gathering the three glasses. His was still full, and he wanted to chug it, but thought better of it and poured it down the drain. He cleaned all of the dishes, dried them, and put them away. He turned off the oven, and wiped down all of the countertops, and neatly hung the towel to dry. He turned off the lights, making sure to leave the one above the stove on as a nightlight. 

Truly, there wasn’t much left of his personal belongings that he really cared about that he hadn’t already taken to your apartment. Most of what he needed was already there. He could grab the rest of it when his mother wasn’t home; the rest of his clothes, important documents, that kind of thing. What all do you even need to bring with you when you're being forced out of your childhood home, anyway? 

Later. This was something he could deal with later.

So he left. Unsurprisingly, his father’s car was nowhere to be seen. He wanted to keep talking to his mom, to explain himself, to apologize, to say anything, but he knew it would just make it worse than it already was, so he just got into his car and pulled away instead.

He did need a better job. He’d been needing a better job for a while now, actually, but he definitely needed a better job now. And his mother was right, there was no way he would be able to work for his dad after that. 

He wished he was able to explain to his parents that hey, funny story, due to atrocities he won’t be explaining right now, the government actually gave him a frankly absurd amount of money a few years ago, and he’d be alright for a while. It wouldn’t last forever, but it was enough to keep the pair of you afloat, especially with yours, too. You had used a bit of it on rent right after your parents had left, but Steve’s money sat mostly untouched in a bank account his family didn’t know he had. 

See, the thing about government hush money is that you can’t just go out and spend it on something wild, because then people are going to ask where it came from. Believe him, if he had been able to go out and buy some fancy sports car or a bunch of designer clothes, he would have. His father would have told him to buy a nice watch and invest the rest of it (Steve wasn’t entirely sure what that actually meant, or how to even go about doing it). He was just grateful to have it right now.

He could put a down payment on a house for you and him. That seemed like something a responsible adult would do with it, right?

Steve pulled up to your building and was shocked with how well he’d held it together up until this point, because he felt like he was going to explode. When he got to your floor and walked into your apartment, you were sitting on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, textbooks and paper spread before you. The sound of him walking in pulled you away from your schoolwork and when you turned to look at Steve, you were clearly upset.

“You told me you were off more than an hour ago!” you said as you wiggled out from behind the table and stood up. “I was starting to get really worried, Steve, where were you?”

“I, uhm,” Steve started. He felt his voice crack, the sting of tears beginning to well in his eyes. He had to keep his shit together, for your sake.

“Did something happen?” you asked him. You brought your hands up to the sides of his face, and there went any chance of him keeping it together. 

“I told my parents,” he confessed. He was not going to cry in front of you. He wasn’t.

“What?” you questioned. You sounded a little bit hurt that he did it without asking you, but mostly just horribly concerned. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

“We did, but it was eating away at me, and I just couldn’t sit on it anymore, and-” The floodgates broke and Steve’s words were cut off by a strained sob. 

“Oh, Stevie.” You pulled him into a hug and Steve wanted nothing more than for these stupid tears to just dry up, but it felt like weeks and weeks of pent up worry and fear were being pulled to the surface, and he didn’t have it in him to try and stop any of it. He was supposed to be the strong one for you, but Jesus Christ, that was difficult. “It was bad?”

“Well, they kicked me out,” Steve said.

“What?”

“Which, I mean, my dad’s right. I barely even live there anymore, so I guess it doesn’t really even matter,” he rambled out, wiping his nose on his sleeve like a child.

“Yes, it does,” you assured him.

“And I’m pretty sure that this is my mother's worst nightmare, so I don’t know why I didn’t expect her to be pissed.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. You pulled Steve towards the couch and carefully lowered onto the cushions, your grasp on his wrists bringing him down to your side. 

“And Robin and I got into a fight, too.”

“You didn’t tell her, did you?” you questioned.

“No, but I think if I don’t do it soon, she might disown me,” he admits. 

“She’s not going to disown you,” you protested. “She’d never do that.”

“My parents just did,” Steve lamented. “My mother just did. Who’s to say Robin isn’t next, huh?”

Steve would never, ever be able to make his father proud, because his father would never, ever let him even get close. He had known that for a long time, and maybe there was a part of him that was relieved by that. He knew that it was an entirely unattainable goal, so he never really bothered to reach for it. His mother, oh so cruelly, always made sure Steve knew that he could do great things. Why did she have to go and do that? Steve knew his mother held him to a high bar, he just hadn’t ever considered the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to jump high enough.

So maybe that’s why it hurt so badly when you curled into him that night when he finally crawled into bed. Maybe that’s why he called into work the next day, even though he knew it would probably make Robin totally freak out. Maybe that’s why he waited until he saw his mother’s car leave the driveway before going into his - what used to be his- house to box up the last of his things.

Maybe that’s why he missed the Hawkins Police Department truck parked outside of your apartment building when he was bringing groceries inside a handful of days later. 

“I’m back!” he called into your apartment after releasing the wildly heavy grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. Making more than one trip is for suckers. “They didn’t have any pineapple juice, so I just got a pineapple, figured it can’t be too hard to just-”

Steve cut himself off when he looked up from the paper bags to see more than just you sitting in the living room; Joyce was sitting on your left with an arm wrapped protectively over your shoulders, Robin on your right with her legs pulled up underneath her and a tissue box in her lap, and Hopper was propped up on the arm of the couch. You were in the middle of the array, in tears. 

“Hello,” Steve nervously greeted, eyes wide as frisbees and blood running cold.

There was absolutely no universe in which this went well.

Robin’s expression, which had clearly been soft and sympathetic before Steve had interrupted them, quickly changed into anger. She shot up from the couch, earning her a disapproving tut from Joyce and making you wince away from her. It took her three wide stomps to cross the small space and grab onto Steve’s wrist with more strength than he knew she had in her.

“Ow, Robin!” Steve complained as she dragged him out into the hallway. She slammed the door hard behind her and it made Steve jump.

“What the fuck, Steve!” she demanded.

“Robin-”

“I mean, seriously, what the fuck!” Steve could already hear the noise complaints from the neighbors as she chastised him. “You lied to me!”

“I-” didn’t, is what he wanted to say, but he knew better than that. “I’m sorry.”

“How long have you two been back together then?” she questioned. Steve really didn’t want to admit it. “How long?”

“Six months,” he replied, sheepishly.

“Six months?!” Robin shrieked in disbelief. “Jesus Christ, you really did lie to me!”

“Robin,” Steve said, hushed and ashamed and really fucking mad at himself.

“For half a year! You lied to me for half a year!”

“I’m sorry!”

“She had to turn down her job offer from the school,” Robin barked. 

“I know that.”

“The job that she’s been talking about for, oh I don’t know, six months? Probably more than that, actually!”

“I know, Robin, alright?” Steve assured her and crossed his arms across his chest. “You think I don’t? I am highly aware of that!”

“And, I’m sorry, but you’re far from the King of Responsibility!” Robin said. 

“What does that mean?!” Steve questioned, a tint of frustration layered over his words. 

“I’m just saying, you aren’t exactly known for your maturity,” she spat.

“You think we wouldn’t be able to take care of-”

“She can. I know she can.  She’s more than capable of doing whatever the hell she puts her mind to, but you?” Anger and resentment dripped from her mouth with each word. “You, I’m honestly not sure. If you were more willing to lie to my face for six months than you were to just tell me the fucking truth, I’m sorry, but that’s really winning you any responsible adult points, is it?”

Tears pricked behind Steve’s eyes. He wanted to yell, to scream at the top of his lungs that, no, Robin, you’re wrong, I can do this!, but he really wasn’t sure if it was true. If his closest friend, one of the people he trusted most in the whole world, really thought that he wouldn’t be able to do this, then maybe she’s right, right?

The apartment door next to Steve slowly creeped open.

“Everything alright out here?” Hopper asked, carefully planting himself just slightly between Steve and Robin. 

Robin lost her vitriol like a tea kettle after the burner got turned off, leaving her with no more steam to fuel what she needed to say. 

“I’m waiting out in the car,” she muttered as she whizzed past Steve and turned down the stairwell. The two men in the hall listened to her descending footsteps. Once they heard the front door open and slam back shut, Jim broke through the quiet.

“Robin wanted me to check up on you after you called out,” Jim explained. “She was worried you were mad at her, after your fight.”

“Right,” Steve said.

“So, imagine my surprise when your mom answers the door, only to tell me that you don’t live there anymore,” the older man said. “She wouldn’t tell me why, just gave me an address and shut the door.”

“Look, if you’re here to give me another angry dad talk, then you don’t have to bother. Mine did a pretty damn good job all on his own,” Steve asserted. 

“I’m not here to be angry.” Steve could tell that Hopper was choosing his words very, very carefully.

“Oh, that’s unlike you,” Steve commented, arms still crossed and eyes on the floor.

“Don’t be shitty!” Jim snapped. Steve withered.

“Sorry,” he muttered, still not able to look the man in the eyes. Jim just sighed.

“Do you have a plan, Steve?” he asked. 

“Yes. No,” Steve replied. “I don’t know. She seems to have one.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’m just not sure if I fit in it,” Steve confessed.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Jim huffed. “Maybe you do need another angry dad talk!”

“What do you want me to say?” Steve interrogated. “That everything is under control and totally normal? I have no idea what’s going to happen! None! And, honestly? I’m fucking terrified, Hopper!” 

“Steve-”

“I have to be good at this. I have to! Because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’m not, but I am so terrified that I won’t be able to, and I’m going to let her down, and I can’t do that!” It all came out as some sort of paranoia fueled stream of consciousness. “I’d rather die than be anything like my dad, but what if it’s just in my blood? Like, I’m just predestined to turn out just as shitty as him!”

“You definitely won’t,” Jim said, as if it were just a simple fact. “I can assure you, there are very few people on this earth as shitty as your father, and you are not one of them.”

Jim wasn’t overly fond of Ronald Harrington; he was an all-around asshole to most people he met.

“Look, as much as I hate to admit it, you two aren’t kids anymore,” Hop said. “You’re grownups, you two are smart. You can make your own choices. If this is the choice you two wanna make, then make it.”

“You’re making it sound so simple,” Steve snarked.  

“It kind of is,” the chief replied. 

“Really? Because this feels like the least simple thing that’s ever happened to me,” Steve said. “You’re really not mad?”

“Well, I’m not thrilled,” Hopper grumbled. “But, like I said. You two are grownups. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

The pair stood in silence for a moment. Steve knew that Hop was more than likely lying about how mad he was, though he had been preparing himself for Jim to completely lose it on him. He probably would have deserved it. 

“Does it ever get less terrifying?” Steve asked, genuinely wanting to know.

“Nope.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“And it’s not just the fun parts,” Jim added.

“I know,” Steve responded.

“It’s more than just tiny socks and decorating the nursery.”

“I know that.” 

“Just makin’ sure.” Jim was far from happy, but he gave Steve a nod and a pat on the back, which was as close to congratulations as he was going to get. “I know the kids give you a hard time, but you’re smart, and so is she. You two know what you’re doing.”

“Thank you.”

“She’s really, really scared, Steve,” Hopper said. There was something in his voice; a silent question of  ‘do you really know what it is you’re getting yourself into?’

“I know,” Steve replied.

“You don’t get to panic now, alright?” Jim told him. “And you don’t get to change your mind.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Steve said; ‘I do know, and I want all of it.’ “I would never do that to her. Never.”

The pair went back inside, and you seemed to be in slightly better spirits now, even if you still had a sea of tears in your eyes. Both you and Joyce turned to face the two men with questions in your eyes, and Jim’s small nod seemed to be enough of an answer for Joyce to shoot off of the couch to envelop Steve in a tight hug. 

“I have lots of baby things I can bring by for you two,” she gushed after pulling away.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said to her, but she was having none of it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Joyce assured. “It’s all just collecting dust anyway.”

Which left Dustin, who in a lot of ways, Steve was the most worried about. He could take the anger from the grownups. Hell, he could take it from Robin, but Dustin, he was less sure about. 

In true Henderson fashion, he found out about Baby Harrington a few days later, entirely by mistake.

“I still don’t understand why they kicked you out in the first place,” Dustin stated from his spot on the living room floor of your (Steve’s!) apartment. He was digging through a pile of old clothes Steve decided he no longer needed. He had a lot of things, he’d realized while moving in, and he really only wanted a few of them, needed even less. He would donate whatever went unclaimed, but Dustin wanted first dibs for himself. 

“Because they’re assholes,” Steve responded. 

“Okay, yeah, fair, but hasn’t Robin been begging you to get a place with her for, like, a year?” 

“It’s not like I was able to really take my time apartment hunting.”

“I still feel like crashing on Robin’s couch for a while would’ve made more sense than moving in here,” Dustin supplied. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I needed an apartment, she needed a roommate, that’s it. Alright?” Steve loved Dustin like a little brother, but good lord, he could be obnoxious sometimes. “Now pick out what you want so I can clean this shit up.”

Dustin finished his haul, though he grumbled about how Steve was rushing him the whole time, and gathered the previously neatly folded clothes into a messy pile.

“I didn’t think of how I was gonna get any of this stuff out to the car.” Dustin, at not- quite- eighteen years old, had finally gotten his drivers license. ‘Thank god,’ Steve had remarked, ‘that I don’t have to be your fucking chauffeur anymore.’ That sentiment only lasted a little while, though, as it quickly became clear that a drivers license meant that Dustin could come and bother Steve whenever he wanted to. And he wanted to all the time. “Will you help me carry it all out?”

“No, I won’t, because there are more trash bags in the cabinet under the sink.” Steve pointed towards the small kitchen. Dustin got up off the floor, going into the kitchen and checking in seemingly every cupboard you had.

“I said under the sink, dude!” Steve heard the squeaky cabinet hinges open and shut, the rustle of the plastic trash bag.

“Steve?” Dustin called after a moment. The apartment was small, and the only real thing separating the kitchen and living room was a few feet of counter and the floor switching from tile to carpet.

“What?” Steve responded, not bothering to look up from the clothes he was shoveling back into their own trash bag. 

“What’s this?” Dustin asked him. When Steve finally looked up at him, he was pointing towards something on the fridge, and it took Steve a second to realize that what Dustin was referring to was the ultrasound pictures that he’d forgotten to take down.

Well, shit.

Steve rocketed towards the fridge to put them away, but Dustin was faster and grabbed them before he could. The damage was already done.

“Dustin, please give me that,” Steve asked. 

“This has her last name on it,” the younger boy observed. 

“Put it down, alright? You weren’t supposed to see it in the first place, so just-”

“Is she fucking pregnant?” Dustin demanded. 

“Dustin, please.” 

“I didn’t think she was dating anyone, though?” the boy thought out loud. “Oh, my god, I wonder if it’s someone we know!”

Oh, it definitely is.

“Dude, c’mon, please just give me the picture.” Remember what Steve said about Dustin being obnoxious?

“Wait, why are you moving in with her if she’s pregnant?” Dustin inquired. “I’m pretty sure that extra bedroom is gonna be pretty occupied in nine months.”

“It’s closer to six, actually,” Steve clarified, and Dustin’s eyes widened. “But that isn’t the point, can you please just-”

“Steve?” the boy asked, tone shifting away from curiosity into something Steve found much more concerning.

“Yeah?” Steve sighed.

“Why did you move in with her?” he asked again, although the way he spoke the words made Steve think Dustin probably already had it figured out. 

“Why do you think?” was all Steve could come up with to say.

“Oh, my god.”

“Dustin-”

“Oh, my god!”

“You cannot tell anyone, okay? This is totally top secret,” Steve begged.

“Did you-? You two-!” Dustin stuttered out. “Oh, my god!”

Dustin was about to start hyperventilating and Steve was doing his best to keep that from happening, pulling the glossy image out of Dustin’s hand as if it were made of precious porcelain, when the sound of keys jingling in the door distracted them. Both boys fell into bitter silence as you opened the door and took in the sight in front of you; a very frazzled Steve and a very distressed Dustin.

“Hi?” you greeted. “What’s going-”

“You’re fucking pregant?” Dustin exclaimed.

“What?” you spat out in response. Steve could tell that your mind was working a mile a minute to come up with a way to cover for yourself. “I-I don’t, uhm-”

“I left the sonogram on the fridge by mistake,” Steve confessed. He felt awful. “I’m sorry, it didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Oh,” you replied. You hadn’t moved from your spot in the entryway, hadn’t put down your bag or taken off your coat. You just stayed frozen.

“Oh, I have so many feelings!” Dustin wheezed, leaning forward. “Oh, my god!”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned him.”

“You’re having a fucking baby?” Dustin asked you.

“Yes,” you timidly responded, slowly placing your work bag onto the side of the couch.

“With Steve?!”

“Yes,” you said again.

“That Steve?” Dustin pointed a thumb over his shoulder to where Steve was hovering behind him. “Steve Harrington? Our Steve?”

You nodded. “That Steve.”

“Holy shit,” the boy breathed out.

“Please don’t be mad,” Steve requested.

“What? Mad, why would I be mad?” he asked. “Who’s mad?”

“Well, so far, everyone,” Steve explained.

“Wait, is this why Robin’s not talking to you?” Dustin asked.

“Robin’s not talking to you?” you piped up, concern dripping from your words. 

Steve hadn’t mentioned that part to you yet. 

Robin had been giving Steve total radio silence ever since she had found out. Even at work, she was refusing to say a single word to him. She went and hid in the bathroom anytime Steve tried to say anything at all, and she had even recruited Keith to be her disinterested, detached middle man and relay VHS-related messages if she really needed to. 

To say the least, she really hadn’t taken it all that well.

“Later?” he said to you, silently begging you to table this conversation for a time when you didn’t have a very upset teenager in your kitchen.

Sticky silence fell over the three of you, sealing to Steve’s skin and filling his lungs up in a way he hated. Dustin was the one who peeled through it first. 

“Are you actually having a baby?” The question was directed to Steve this time. Dustin was wildly expressive, he always had been, and he looked very, very overwhelmed. Steve felt about the same. He just nodded, and it took a second for Dustin to properly process the news.

“Gimme the picture again!” Dustin insisted. 

“No, dude! We only have a few and-”

“Excuse me, it’s my nephew, I think I get to see the picture if I want to!”

The tension dissolved as soon as the words came out of Dustin’s mouth. Steve had been so, so worried that he’d be mad, madder than Robin was. 

“Hah! See, Dustin thinks it’s a boy, too!” Steve exclaimed to you. Reservation made way for excitement. Like Dustin said, it’s his nephew.

“Oh, god, please don’t start with this again,” you said, smiling despite the faux exasperation in your voice.

“You think it’s a girl?” Dustin asked.

“I think,” you say as you shuck off your coat and lean against the counter, across from the boys, “that Steve is going to get his hopes up about it being a boy, and then be disappointed if it isn’t.”

“Not possible,” Steve clarified with a smile. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about it because I’m right, and it’s gonna be a boy.”

Dustin didn’t end up leaving until a good few hours later, when Steve noticed how your eyes kept fluttering shut as you leaned against his shoulder. He had to manhandle the boy out the door; he had a seemingly unending vault of questions (“you guys have been sleeping together this whole time?!”), but you were totally wiped. 

You really just wanted to just go to bed, but Steve insisted you ate something first, and a mug of soup later, you were practically dead on your feet. He cleaned up any dinner mess (canned soup doesn’t really result in any mess, but he’d be damned if you had to put your own dishes into the dishwasher), and sent you off to get ready for an early turn in. 

He’d just put the pot away when you summoned him into the bathroom.

“You alright?” Steve asked, leaning against the doorframe. You were standing in front of the sink in your pajamas. He could smell your mouthwash.

“Come look.”

Steve took a step into the bathroom to sidle up next to you as you pulled the bottom edge of your too-big t-shirt up. Your fingers ever so gently ghosted over your stomach.

“That wasn’t there before,” you asked, tilting your head back against the crook of Steve’s arm to look up at him. “Was it?”

Steve was entranced by your reflection in the mirror, by the way the swell of your tummy absolutely gave you away. 

“I don’t know.” Steve spoke just barely above a whisper, the way he would have if he was standing in a church. You felt like an angel beneath his arm. “I don’t think so.”

“I feel like I would have noticed it if it was,” you said, eyes glued to the mirror just as Steve’s were. 

“Definitely would’ve noticed,” Steve quietly gushed. “You officially have a baby bump.”

Realistically, you still had a couple more weeks before anyone else would actually be able to see it. Still small enough to hide behind your clothes, but absolutely, undoubtedly there. 

You hummed, and Steve noticed the way you were trying to hide your smile.

“You’re allowed to be happy about it, you know,” Steve reminded you. Your eyes caught his again, and your small, shy smile grew just a little bit bigger as you pulled his hand away from your hip and placed it firmly against the slope of your tummy. He felt his breath hitch, like the action of touching you was breaking some sort of cardinal law, but he stroked his thumb up and down, up and down across your skin, and you flattened yourself as deeply into his chest as you possibly could. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering in the scent of you for as long as he could allow himself to.

His hand stayed glued to you for the remainder of the evening.

Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @hoesbloated @luvlexi-darling

[darsynia]

Shipping and Handling | Ch 2: Urgency

(Stucky x Reader slow burn, Steve x Reader fast burn, Friendship all around)

SERIES MASTERLIST | STORY MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

Summary: There’s a chance you and Steve aren’t the only people dealing with the strange chemical bond from Mistress, so you agree to submit to daily tests that should help Dr. Banner figure out what’s happening, and maybe how to stop it. The problem? Seeing each other every day brings a new set of side-effects that both of you hide from each other and Banner until things come to a head– not just for the two of you, but also for the man who has to deal with you: Bucky Barnes. Length/Warnings: 3,028 / sexual situations Prompt: @allcapsbingo April Adoptable: Sex Pollen ((I know, right??))

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan @brooke0297 @caplanreblogsfics @hails270105 @venusfalling @zzz000eee @eralen @mrsevans90 @myinconnelly1 @thorinsmistress @cjand10 @wckedheart @samfreakingwinchester @blind-devil @sanniegirl1214 @karimac @dispatchvampire

Excerpt:

Steve’s expression turns sheepish. “I was trying to persuade him to walk you out.” 

“Let me guess, he was doing the same?”

He nods. The elevator protests the doors remaining open, and he murmurs some kind of command that changes the red color to green.

“You could escort me down?”

“That’s probably a bad idea,” Steve says solicitously. There’s a light in his eyes that sends a thrill along your spine, and you almost wish you could push him to change his mind-- but then you remember how important it is to figure out what the hell Mistress is doing to the many people exposed to it every day. Encouraging Steve Rogers to take an elevator ride so you can stand near him and wish he would kiss you is probably not furthering the cause of science.

Chapter Two: Urgency

In retrospect, inviting you over for dinner has clearly made things more complicated, not less. Bucky had figured you’d show up, they’d order food, and then the three of you would have an uncomfortable but necessary conversation (one he’d get to enjoy observing, which would make up for the awkwardness).

Instead, he’s barely holding in his amusement at the way things have devolved into an R-rated I Love Lucy episode.

In a strained voice, you observe, “The connections are hopelessly stretched. You’ll probably need a whole new stove.”

Bucky just nods.

“It’s actually kind of impressive, the way the metal crocheted with the cotton in this tea towel withstood the stress like that.”

He clears his throat to cover his need to laugh, but the sound ends on a wheeze.

“Damnit, what?”

“You practically knelt down in front of him. Take pity, will you Doll?” 

Bucky only realizes the endearment after he’s said it aloud, and to minimize the damage, he clenches his jaw and twists his lips into an inconsequential smile.

It doesn’t work.

“You’ve never called me that before,” you say, your lovely eyes lit with surprise and something else, something he shouldn’t be looking for. 

Gruffly, he says, “Really?” It’s a shut-down tactic, because people are much less likely to elaborate on something they’re uncertain over. He maximizes its effect by leaning down to examine the oven door, which is indeed fucked.  

“Really. I liked it, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft. “Looks like you’ll be needing these menus, I doubt the stove is kitchen rated with the door off! Come on, I’m sure Steve is going to be hungry when he shows back up.”

Are… you joking about what Steve’s doing in his room right now? Bucky lunges over to block your way out of the kitchen. The shirt you’re wearing smells like the detergent he and Steve use, and something about smelling Steve on you sends heat straight to his groin.

He really should’ve punched Banner, too.

“What?”  

“Are you sure you want everything out in the open?” You look at him, uncomprehending, and Bucky’s a hypocrite, because there’s no way any of what he’s been thinking about lately can be in the open.

You’re shaking your head at him. “I don’t--”

He grips the doorframe so tightly it gives a little under his metal hand. “Steve is jerking off in there. He’d only do that while we’re waiting out here because he has to. If he comes out here and you make a comment like that, he’ll feel guilty for--”

“--weeks. Maybe forever. Shit.” you interrupt. He pushes off from the door to let you pass, and you continue; “Banner seemed certain that the… intensity was because we’d spent those two weeks apart, but this is--” You break off and drop the pile of menus on the dining room table with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m really worried it’s going to be untenable, but then I remember all the people out there this could happen to, you know?”

Bucky nods toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, where Steve is probably touching himself right now. “Is that the ‘untenable’ you’re talking about?”

Your face wrenches in embarrassment, eyes closed, and you nod.

Because he doesn’t want to go through this whole ordeal without some amusement at his own expense, he says, “There are two bedrooms, if you need to borrow mine? You know where it is.”

Your eyes pop open, and you suck in a breath, tightening the blue shirt enough that he can see your nipples are hard. Then you smack him hard on the right arm.

“The look on your face! Stop fake-leering at me, asshole, I was already worried about that!”

That was close. “Worried about what?”

“Well I got to thinking, it’s not like the combined pheromones are inert, right? So anyone who spends time around the two of us could get hit with them. Hell, maybe even the solo ones we were making might be able to--” You retreat to the other side of the table like you need the fortitude of distance. “You’ve still been able to achieve-- I mean… Have you?”

“Roll that back. You think that stuff could turn me as horny as the two of you?”

You wince. “Promise me you’ll tell me if anything changes? For science?”

“I promise,” Bucky says. He is affected, but nothing whatsoever has changed.

“And you can still…”

He raises his eyebrows and pretends not to understand.

“Bucky!” Your exasperation is not a deterrent at all.

“Just spit it out.”

“Can you come?”

He cannot resist. “Come where?”

“Oh my God, I cannot believe you!” Instead of stomping off to cool down, you march right up to him and grab the loose sides of the dress shirt he’s wearing on top of his tee. “I am asking you if you can orgasm, you monumental dickhead!”

Maybe the pheromones you and Steve are emitting are doing something, because a number of inappropriate things leap immediately to mind.

He chooses the least offensive of the five. “Pretty sure I can, but I’m willing to go try right now, if it’s that important to you.”

Steve speaks up from the hallway before you can vocalize the affectionate fury Bucky sees written all over your face. “Everything okay?” 

Steve’s hairline is wet, like he’d stepped into the bathroom to splash his face with water, and his own shirt is untucked. By now, Bucky’s used to steeling himself against his attraction to Steve, but he’s not used to being so close to someone who can figure out what he’s thinking before he shoves it away. Your hands tighten on his shirt, and when he looks back at you, there’s understanding in your eyes.

Understanding and guilt.

Carefully, you reach up to adjust Bucky’s collar as if that’s what you’d been doing all along, patting at his chest maternally before stepping away. “Starting to think you had Steve help you dress before you’d show up at the restaurant for those 40’s nights,” you tease.

Shit. Shit. Are you trying to-- Shit.

Across the room, Steve’s body language is stiff, and he adopts a false joviality that has Bucky screaming in his own head at the multitude of misunderstandings.

“Are you kidding? He snuck out! Probably didn’t want me to ask why he was wearing all that leather on a weeknight.” A second later, Steve waves his hand in embarrassment and comes over to the table. “That came out like I was implying he dresses in leather on the weeken--”

“Stop!” Bucky groans. “I’m starving and the two of you are nuts. Pick something and order, would you?” He walks off toward the window and hopes that you and Steve will mix pheromones so much you’ll completely forget what you think you just saw.

The need to stare at each other (and feed him) seems to be enough to preoccupy the two of you. Bucky looks out at the bustle of rush-hour traffic and tries to tamp down his panic. Of all the struggles he’d faced in the past year, he’d never have picked ‘caring too much about his closest friends’ as the one to give him the most trouble. It’s an unfair thought on its face, because the burden of all his other shit has been lifted by having you and Steve around.

It’s not just caring, though, and as much as he wants to lie to himself, it’s not just physical, either. If there was any way to reassure you about the pheromones, he would, but if Bucky’s honest with himself, he’s glad you’re worried about that. It gives him cover.

He sighs. A thought that had occurred to him a few nights ago pops back up. To have friends is one thing, to want someone is another thing, but to know better than to act on it? To step aside for the sake of the people he cares most about in the world… that’s a sign that he’s more human than weapon. It’s cold comfort, but he’s used to the cold.

The knowledge of what Steve had been doing and why is burning through your insides. It looks like it’s burning through him too, but from embarrassment, since he’s just worked through his other discomfort.

Steve clears his throat and reaches over to scatter some of the menus. “Any preferences?”

“Let me see what we’ve got,” you say, and he nods, loosing a lock of wet hair that flops onto his forehead.

It suddenly occurs to you the reason why it’s wet-- he went to wash his hands, and just in case that wasn’t enough, he washed his face, too. Because he’s a gentleman, despite what it was he was doing. You feel such a rush of pure affection for him that it shakes your ability to stand. To cover it, you drag out the chair you’re standing near and fall into it, reaching for the brochures.

“Do you, ah…” 

He falls silent, and when you look up, he looks supremely uncomfortable. You lift your brows.

“Do you need to…”

You are completely baffled-- until you aren’t. “Oh, God, thank you, but no. I’ll--  I’ll manage.”

His nod is anxious, so you hand over the menu you had your eye on and do your very best not to worry that you should have taken him up on it. After all, you weren’t able to change your underpants, but if there’s a world where you have to ask Captain America if he can smell your arousal, you’d rather just disappear into the NYC sewers.

Dinner goes surprisingly well. You already knew that Bucky and Steve got on well, and over the course of the evening, you can tell that your rapport with Bucky is reassuring to Steve. Instead of making you uncomfortable, the simmering heat you’re afflicted with seems to keep you on your toes, a constant reminder to be careful about what you say and do, lest you awaken the same banked fire in Steve. 

You let the two men run the conversation, and at times they almost fall over each other to share anecdotes. When you’re ready to leave, you step away to use the bathroom and come out to Bucky and Steve deep in a serious discussion, almost an argument. Maybe it’s your full, happy stomach, maybe it’s your sense of impishness, but instead of alerting them to your presence in the room, you sneak over to the door and make it to the elevator before Steve catches up to you.

“Making me feel like a failed host,” he says, jogging over to hold his hand over the just-opened doors.

“Not at all,” you smile. “You two looked like you were having an important conversation.”

Steve’s expression turns sheepish. “I was trying to persuade him to walk you out.” 

“Let me guess, he was doing the same?”

He nods. The elevator protests the doors remaining open, and Steve murmurs some kind of command that changes the red color to green.

“You could escort me down?”

“That’s probably a bad idea,” Steve says solicitously. There’s a light in his eyes that sends a thrill along your spine, and you almost wish you could push him to change his mind-- but then you remember how important it is to figure out what the hell Mistress is doing to the many people exposed to it every day. Encouraging Steve Rogers to take an elevator ride so you can stand near him and wish he would kiss you is probably not furthering the cause of science.

“Good night then, Sir Knight,” you tease, dipping into a curtsey. Your skirt is tight along your thighs, but you’re able to use the tails of your borrowed blue shirt to aid in the look.

When you lift your head, the elevator doors are closing, and Steve is nowhere in sight. It’s not a big deal-- you’ll be seeing each other once a day for the foreseeable future anyway.

Not that you’re looking forward to that, or anything.

Steve and Bucky had agreed to show up at the performance the next day, to satisfy the proximity requirement. As expected, the 90’s crowd is different from the 40’s one, but the energy is high, and you end the night on a literal high note. The plan is for the two of them to come over after the set to spend a few minutes physically close by, but as usual, the band is crowded by admirers who ‘just want to chat a few minutes.’

You can see that Bucky’s temper is flaring by the way Steve’s fingertips whiten on his friend’s shoulder, so you try to hurry. The last person to push through to speak to you is carrying two of the restaurant’s signature ‘flagon’ beer glasses, and he enthusiastically thrusts one into your hands before you can stop him. The action sloshes the liquid over onto the back of your hand.

Before you can formulate a polite refusal, the restaurant’s bar bouncer Benji throws a collegial arm around the man’s shoulder and guides him away.

“Saved a life, right there,” Steve says in a low voice beside you. You actually slump over into him for a few seconds in relief, feeling him initially stiffen at first contact before his arm comes around to support you.

“What do you mean?” you ask, lifting your hand up to lick off the alcohol. 

To your surprise, Steve spins you the few steps out into the dance floor. The ballad currently playing means that the couples around you are slow-dancing in the ‘modern’ style, hands on hips or shoulders, swaying close with little to no artistry. His hand at your wrist is an inexorable band as he positions your palm flat on his chest, his other hand grasping the small of your back in defiance of convention.

“Okay, clearly you have panicked,” you say, blinking up at him. Your other hand is holding onto the lapel of his suit jacket as if for dear life, because holy god, the man sends your senses reeling.

“Inside pocket, Mistress test tabs. Swab your hand,” he whispers hoarsely.

Your steps falter, and you nod. Testing has become second-nature at this point, so you don’t even need to check the box for the color key. 

“Orange,” Steve says, when he sees the strip. His hand at your back sweeps you closer. Orange is more than the yellow or green of faint traces. 

The drink was dosed.

“On it,” Bucky husks as he brushes past the two of you, plucking the test strip from your fingers on the way. Because of Steve’s close stance, you’re helpless to stop him-- a point Steve makes very clear by spreading his fingers at your back. The possessiveness of the action works like napalm in your bloodstream, but the pressure of each fingertip against your skin sends a very clear message: you may not follow.

There’s napalm, and then there’s napalm.

Fixing your eyes on his chest, and with a bright smile hiding that your teeth are clenched, you hiss, “Steve, if we weren’t in my workplace, I would be pitching a fit right now. You are not in charge of what I do or say, do you understand me?”

The pained sound from his throat drags your eyes up to his. Steve looks stricken, and you realize you’d offered the man who tried to deliberately drug you with Mistress more grace than the one who dearly wishes he hadn’t. Your apology dusts in your mouth when he starts speaking.

“I couldn’t protect you when it counted. I can’t protect you from me. I will damn well protect you from everything else!”

As he speaks, Steve moves the two of you off of the dance floor and back past the bar into the alcove Benji usually stands in. He’s shaking, and you’re overwhelmed, the fear of what you’ve just dodged only prickling the edges of your consciousness. The only thing you can think of to defuse the moment is Bucky’s gripe about Steve’s reticence for swearing aloud.

At the very last second, you realize you can’t use the phrasing you’d meant to, because this man’s mother has been dead a very very long time.

“You kiss your lovers with that mouth?”

Time stands still for a long second as you regard each other. Then, Steve’s head tips to the side, eyes locking onto your mouth. His lips part, and the sigh he releases seems to release the angry tension he’d been holding since pulling you close in the first place.

“You tell me,” he whispers, releasing you and holding his hands up like a man being held hostage. In a way he is. You both are.

You can’t recall wanting to kiss someone more than you do right now. To hell with absolutely everything else! you think to yourself, reaching your hand up toward the side of his face.

The wetness on that hand reminds you, and you draw back. “Shit. Shit, Steve! Mistress!”

He looks at your lips again, then your hand, then your chest, and then dashes off into the crowd of people only to reappear again impossibly quickly with a damp washcloth from the bar. Without asking, he scrubs at your hand-- but you bite your lip at the sensations. Even that small amount of the drug is affecting you, having soaked in while you were distracted by the undercurrent of desire you always feel around Steve.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your voice low. 

He makes a little noise in response, then puts a hand on each of your shoulders. “We need to get to Banner. If what I’m feeling is related to the Mistress in your system--”

“Oh God,” you whisper.

Steve’s grip on you tightens, and he snaps his head back like he’d been about to lean in for a kiss before his instincts kicked in.

Your instincts are affected by Mistress, but you don’t give a shit. You reach up with both hands and cup his face. “In the cab.”

“Stark sent a car, actually. I sent a distress call.”

“Even better.”

To be continued...

[justmeinadaze]

Halloween Masquerade (Part of Pushing the Barrier AU) (Eddie X You)

A/N: And now that song from that scene will be in my head for days lol Enjoy <3.

Full Series Here!

Warnings: Stripper Eddie X Fem Reader, SMUT, quickie passionate bathroom smut :), FLUFF, They love each other <3, ANGST, readers mom isn't a fun of Mr. Munson here and feels like he broke up readers marriage, Eddie confronts her and meets the parents, he also has a run with her ex who I finally gave a name to!

Word Count: 3531

“So how are things with your new man going?”

You grin sassily towards your coworker as you take a bite of your food. It had been six months since you kicked out your husband and filed for divorce. You and Eddie both moved out of your old apartments into one together that you absolutely loved. The place you were at with your ex was so big and always felt so empty. With the metalhead’s things mingled with yours, it actually felt like you were home. 

Three months ago, your ex showed up to your classroom trying to win you back so after telling security to make sure to never let him in the building again, of course, the gossip quickly spread. When you casually mentioned Eddie everyone wanted to know more and after bringing him to a work function, they fell in love with him. 

“Y/N, he’s so sweet, oh my god! You were married for how long to that other guy and I don’t think I met him once. He’s really cute to. Look at that smile! You’re so lucky!”

When they asked what he did for work, you told them he was a musician which wasn’t an entire lie. Eddie still played with his band on the weekends and they did what they could to get noticed. You just left out the part about the cube and him taking off his clothes for money. To be fair, you two had many, MANY conversations about it and it was his idea that you keep it a secret.

“I don’t want it to cause trouble for you at work or anything.”

“I don’t think it will but I’m honestly not sure.”

“Baby, I come from a small town remember? Parents used to flip shit about teacher’s personal lives all the time. We had one teacher in middle school who ‘resigned’ because the parents found out she had a girlfriend. It was bullshit.” Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulders as your lean closer against him on the sofa. “I know this city is a bit more liberal but…it would kill me if you lost your job. You love those kids and you’re an amazing teacher.”

“It’s going pretty well. Now the divorce on the other hand…”, you roll your eyes.

“Nick causing problems?”

“With a capital P. I don’t get it. He was never home and asshole cheats on me but he doesn’t want to sign the divorce papers because he thinks we ‘still have a chance’.” 

***

You sighed as you entered your apartment and placed your things down on the floor by the front door.

“Hey baby. Long day?” You smile when you find Eddie sitting on the counter with a beer in his hand. It takes you moment to realize his eyes were clouded over with worry. “Yeah, it’s about to get longer.” Reaching over with his finger, he pushes a button on the voicemail box and you roll your eyes as your ex’s voices floats through. 

“Y/N, honey, please. I know we can fix this! Call me back so we can talk. That’s all I want to do is talk.”

“Seriously, babe, he’s not what you deserve. You deserve so much better! I can be the man you need.”

“Fuck! Y/N, you are smarter this. What kind of future can you expect to have with trash like him.”

You cross your arms as you growl at his insult of the man you love. 

“Oh, wait. It gets better.”, Eddie says with sarcasm. 

“Y/N, it’s your mother. Look, you can’t keep ignoring people that care about you. Nicholas is still your husband and you owe it to him to at least hear him out. Don’t be selfish! A marriage is about two people not just one.”

“Sweetheart, you made a commitment when you said I do. Whoever this boy is that you think is worth destroying your marriage over… I can’t. I’m so upset.”

You roll your eyes as the message closes out with her pretending to cry. Shuffling towards him, you place yourself between Eddie’s legs as you wrap your arms around him, pleasantly sighing when you feel his hand pet your head. 

“I’m sorry you had to listen to that. You’re not trash, baby, and you definitely didn’t destroy whatever I was in before because I know it wasn’t a marriage.”

“I know, sweetheart. I just hate feeling helpless.” Leaning back, you look at him with confusion. “I’d like to talk to your family.”

Shaking you head, you completely pull away from him as you head towards your bedroom with him hot on your heels. 

“Y/N, come on. I can handle them and I’m sick of you having to listen to them berate you because of me.”

“It’s NOT because of you. It’s because of Nick. He convinced them he’s a good guy and he convinced my mother that he’s the victim. Eddie…”, you exhale heavily. “Just ignore them. Please…so we can be happy.”

“Please, sweetheart, at least let me try.”

He softly smiles as he watches your head tilt to the side in thought.

“In our neighborhood where I grew up, for Halloween, they have this cheesy masquerade dance thing they do every year. Usually, Nick and I would go but this year I had planned to skip it… Eddie, are you sure about this?”

“Yes. I promise if I can’t sway them then I won’t bring it up again.”

#############

A heavy exhale leaves your lips as he parks his van outside of the building the party was being held at. 

“Hey.”, he coos to get your attention. “You look really beautiful tonight.”

Eddie’s mouth had fallen open when he saw you step out of the bedroom in your purple masquerade dress that you had bought quickly one day after work. It was short in the front but the lacy material flowed down behind your legs just above your ankles with sleeves that came down to your elbows. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail with the loose strands curled as they hung behind you. The purple mask rested on your face and brought out the color in your eyes that made the metalhead swoon. 

Tonight, he took your breath away in his sleek black tux and utterly sexy smelling cologne that almost had you jumping him before you even left your apartment. What he didn’t tell you was he had asked Mira to help him pick something out. 

“Eddie, everything’s going to be fine. I thought you didn’t care what people thought about you two.”

“I don’t but this is her family. I don’t actively want to make her life complicated. If I can smooth things over then I want to try.”

Smiling you lean over to give him a kiss before he jumps down and runs around to open your car door.

“After this, when we get home, we’ll celebrate Halloween right; spooky movies and greasy pizza till one of us throws up.” He beams down at you as you genuinely laugh and agree. “I’m right here with you, princess, ok? No matter what happens, you’re mine and I love you.”

***

As soon as you both entered the building, the stuffy air and aristocrat vibe hit you instantly. Keeping his hand tightly intertwined with yours, you yanked him towards the bar and hand him a glass of whatever was handed to you that you hastily knocked back. 

“How long has this dance thing been around?”

“God, um, for as long as I can remember. My parents were always going and then dragging us along when we became adults.”

“Is it an adult only thing?”

“Not technically but you have a room full of people who are probably already drunk and think they’re above it all so…” Eddie can’t help but chuckle at your disgusted tone. “Did they have things like this in Hawkins?”

“Not that I’m aware of. One of my closest friends, his family comes from money and they had parties but I don’t think they went all out like this. This reminds me of that scene in The Labyrinth.”

“But I'll be there for you-ou-ou As the world falls down…”

His grin grows as you sing and look up at him with wide, glistening eyes filled with nothing but love for him. 

“Care to dance with me, Ms. Y/L/N?”, he inquires as he playfully bows and extends his hand out for you to take. 

“I’d love to, Mr. Munson.”

Guiding you to the dance floor, he tries to mimic the people around him, placing his palm on your back and clasping the other to you own while holding it in the air to the side. You smile as your free hand rests on his shoulder and you two begin to sway.

“You really do look handsome in this.”, you compliment him.

“Me? I pale in comparison to you, princess.” Eddie’s hand slides a bit lower as he brings you closer to him. “I’m not going to lie. I feel like I’m in a storybook right now. Like I’m a commoner who just snuck into the king and queen’s palace to dance with their beautiful daughter.”

“Eddie, you aren’t a commoner.”

“After we dance, I’d climb up to your balcony Romeo and Juliet style, professing my love to you.” He smiles when you giggle and blush, dipping you dramatically before bringing you back to his chest as he softly sings.

“A love that will last Within your heart I'll place the moon Within your heart.”

Feeling eyes on you, you glance around the room till your gaze lands on your mother who is staring daggers at the man holding you. 

“I love you, Eddie.”

Hearing the shift in your tone, he takes a deep breath and wraps both arms around you. 

“I love you to, Y/N. We got this.”

***

“Mom. Dad. You guys look amazing.”

Your dad grins as he yanks you in for a hug. “We look amazing? Look at you! You look beautiful. Who’s your friend?”

Eddie lifts up his mask and offers his hand to your father who shakes it. 

“Hello, sir. I’m Edward Munson but you can call me Eddie.” As he moves to greet your mother, she glares at his palm as if it was dirty and he hesitantly pulls it back. “Ma’am.”

“This is my boyfriend.”

“Hm. Can’t have a boyfriend if you already have a husband.”, your mom spits.

“Hm. Someone should tell Nick that since he had a girlfriend through most of our marriage.”, you retort angrily. 

“How about we go somewhere quiet and get to know Eddie here?”, your father suggests trying to break the tension. 

Both of you follow them into an empty area where you and Eddie sit side by side on a couch while your parents take a seat in separate chairs across from each other. 

“So, how did you two meet?”

“She was out for a walk and it started to rain so she ran into the bar I work at. We got to talking and…” He gently smiled as you looped your arm through his and leaned on his shoulder. 

This was the story he came up with when you introduced him to people you knew. It always made you feel bad because you weren’t ashamed of what he did. You knew he only did it to survive and was working hard to become a musician. But Eddie insisted, trying to protect you from any more unwarranted stress. 

“You’re a bartender?”

“I’m a guitarist actually.”

“He and his band are fantastic.”, you boast making him blush as his fingers lightly squeeze your knee.

“I imagine that doesn’t pay all the bills. Not here in New York.”, your mother sasses. 

“Not yet, ma’am, but I do what I can to make ends meet.”

“Like seducing my daughter and breaking up a marriage?”

“He didn’t ‘break up’ my marriage. Nick did. You know what, that really pisses me off that you continue to defend him after what he did. I did everything to make my marriage work! You constantly make me feel like l didn’t try hard enough.”

“Obviously you didn’t because you and your husband aren’t together. Do you think your father and I get along all the time?”

“It was way more than ‘not getting along’!”

“Please. Look I’m just going to cut to the end of this conversation so we don’t waste any more time. I think you need to give Nicholas another chance and leave this negative distraction behind.” 

You huff as she gestures towards Eddie. 

“She did that already and he failed.”, the metalhead interjects. “We spent time away from each other and I respected her choice even though I didn’t agree with it. Y/N gave him a chance and he still went off to be with that girl.” He turns his head and meets your father’s eyes. “I love your daughter with every fiber of my being. Since the first time I heard her speak, I knew she was special. Nick had her for years and tossed her aside making her feel worthless. I know what that’s like and I would never do that to her or make her feel that way.”

“A marriage is sacred.”, your mother scoffs as she folds her arms. 

“I agree. That’s why I want to marry her as soon as I possibly can.” His eyes find your own. “If you’ll have me of course.”

“Of course, you idiot.” Your palms cup his cheeks as you bring his lips to your own. 

“You know, when we first met Nick, all he did was talk about himself.”, you dad smirked before extending his hand out to Eddie. “You’ve got my blessing, kid.”

As he enthusiastically shakes it, your mom starts scolding you three in the background. Ignoring her, you tug on his arm, and power walk down the hallway till you find an empty bathroom, pushing him in as you lock the door. 

His arms open wide and you practically fly into them as your lips feverishly dance with his. Eddie’s palms roam your body, searching for a zipper, button, or any kind of access underneath your dress. Helping him, you lift the front hem exposing your panties and he hastily pulls them down before grabbing your ass to lift you onto the counter by the sink. 

Heavy pants escape you as he sucks that sweet spot on your neck, grinding his groin between your legs as you fumble with his belt. His palm snakes to the back of your neck, placing his forehead on your own, and groans when he feels you free his cock from its confinement. Licking his lips, Eddie watches you with pure lust and anticipation as your tongue runs along your hand before stroking it along his length. 

You guided his tip to your entrance till his hips took over and he thrust himself into your cunt. Gripping his waist, you allowed him to take what was his as his lips tenderly kissed parts of your face till he found your lips again. 

“I love you, Eddie. I’m yours, baby.” The man’s jaw went slack as he pumped his hips at a faster pace as he listened to you murmur to him. “Look at me, baby, please.”

You subtly nodded as he did what you asked, flashing him a small smile. 

“I can’t wait to marry you. I’ll—mmm—I’ll do whatever I can to get my divorce through. I’m not going to make you wait again. I promise. I promise, Eddie. Fuck.”

Bringing your head to his shoulder, the metalhead circle his arms around you, and held you to him as he pounded into you till your eyes rolled. 

You trembled against him as the coil in your belly snapped and while your pussy clenched around him, he grunted in your ear before releasing his seed deep inside your body. 

No one moved as you continued to hold each other. 

When Eddie finally did pull back, he smirked and leaned forward to kiss your lips. 

“I’m still going to purpose to you at the perfect moment but at least I got your dad’s blessing.”

As he adjusts his pants, he grabs some tissue to clean you with and helps you on to your feet, kissing the skin along your legs as he pulls your panties back to their proper place. 

“No matter what, Eddie Munson, I’ll say yes.”

“I hope you know, baby, I’m not worried about you when it comes to your divorce. I know it’s him dragging his ass on everything.”

“Sometimes, I think about that fight we had in the cube…when you said I was the only girl in the world that you were ok with being my second choice.” Your fingers reach out to fix his jacket as you speak. “That killed me… I never want you to ever feel that way again, Eddie.”

Ringed fingers lift your chin to meet his eyes. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to keep punishing yourself for that and your marriage. You’re here with me now and I’m going to give you the life you deserve.”

After one final kiss, you both leave the bathroom hand in hand as you tug him towards the parking lot with the intention of leaving. Of course, things can never just be that easy for you two. 

“Y/N?”

“Fucking hell.”, you growl in annoyance as you turn around. “Unless it’s about our divorce, Nick, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Y/N, you haven’t returned any of my calls! The least you could do is hear what I have to say!”

“You had 5 years to say what you needed to say! You chose to cheat on me instead!”

“Look, I—” As your ex stepped towards you, Eddie stepped between you. 

“Right there is good. You have no reason to be that close to her.”

“She’s my wife.”, Nick seethed as he eyed the metalhead with disgust.

“Not anymore. You had your chance, many of them, and you blew it. She doesn’t want to talk to you and with that being the case I’m not letting you near her.”

Your ex took a confident step forward and to his surprise Eddie did the same towering over him. 

“Go ahead, Nick. Give me a reason. Y/N wouldn’t let me confront you when you harassed her at work so this will make up for that.”

“Eddie. Come on, honey. Let it go.”, you coax him in a calm voice.

“I broke up with Sarah.”, he says as his eyes flick from Eddie’s to yours. “I haven’t seen her since you left.”

“Too bad you couldn’t do that when we were together. Come on, Ed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! Are you fucking kidding me?! I’m way better for you then this trailer trash asshole! How long are you going to keep punishing me?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Nick. I forgot everything was about you! It’s always been about you! He’s way more of man than you ever were in every fucking way. Now, fuck off!”

“HEY! You don’t get to talk to me like that—”

As Nick stepped forward to scream at you, Eddie’s fist flew hitting him square in the nose as he fell to the floor. 

“I warned you to stay back. Sign the divorce papers, Nick, and let her go. Let her be happy for once.”

##############

“Ow!”

“What do you mean ‘ow’?! Your rings took the brunt of the impact, you badass.”, you tease as hold the ice pack on his hand. 

When you got home, you both had changed and were now comfortably lounging on the couch with you curled up by his side as you took care of him. 

“Geez. You’re so mean.” Eddie smiles as his eyes scan your face. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m ok. I’m sorry about my mom.”

Shaking his head, he tugs you into his lap and you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

“Don’t be, sweetheart. I don’t care what either of them says about me but I do care that it hurts you. I remember how lonely you were, Y/N. That sad sound of your voice when you first came in. The way you cried when you stumbled into my apartment telling me what Nick had done. I know you tried everything and I know you deserve better then that dick because I was there. I saw and heard everything. If she wants to keep belittling you, at least now she knows I’m not going to allow that and your dad knows I’m a good guy for you.”

“You are a good guy for me. My knight in shining armor or blood-stained rings I guess.”, you giggle. 

“Hey, I warned him—”

“I know. I know.”, you smile as you turn his head to kiss your lips. “Now I believe I was promised pizza and celebrating the holiday correctly.”

Eddie laughs as he places a final peck on your lips and playfully pushes you off his lap. As he gets up to call the pizza place, he lightly continues to sing David Bowie, and gives you a wink.

“Falling, falling, falling, falling in love…”

###########

############

@Munsonsuccubus @samunson83 @tayhar811

@bibieddiesgf @maximus2354 @nevermore66 @ajkamins

@dollalicia @secretdryrose @staandupanndscream

@tlclick73 @persephone13 @mandyjo8719 @bebe0701

@other-world-s @kiyastrf94 @alottanothing

@blue-eyed-lion @zeroxbendylove-blog @munsonology

@mimsthebannished @ches-86 @siriusmuggle

(I pulled this from an old list so im sorry if any of these names are no longer what you go by. Just let me know and I can update it!)

[cancerian-woman]

I’m in a petty mood so :P

if Bonnie wasn’t the most disrespected character of tvd then maybe…idk there wouldn’t be videos, books, articles online that has to thoroughly explain this topic repeatedly with detailed evidence. Then you fans that claim Bonnie didn’t suffer the way other characters did or it wasn’t as bad only have that argument because you let your hatred for Bonnie cloud anything else. Pull up a video that explains how badly Caroline and Elena was treated that lines up with Bonnie’s. Like I said before NOBODY has ever said Elena and Caroline didn’t struggle that would be false but their struggles will never align with how the MAIN black woman was treated for 8 years.

Yall be upset over characters like Katherine, Vicki, Caroline, Elena etc etc. when Julie never went on Twitter tangents about her disdain for that character or actress , never bashed or nitpicked at those fanbases. Caroline Dries never intentionally talked over Candice, or Nina in interviews because they had ideas. Candice was so loudly loved that not only was her character placed with nearly every male, but they written in her pregnancy for Caroline connecting her to 2 more shows. Nina got to do more scenes as Katherine.

There’s plenty of other things but Kat could give yall losers a PowerPoint presentation detailing about how she was sidelined from Bonnie’s sexuality, repeatedly making remarks about how often Bonnie’s sacrificed and gets nothing, the relationships, and even her wardrobe. On top of continuously mentioning how she felt like they didn’t want her there. She’s even said directly she thinks there wouldn’t have been problems had she been white. I mean look at the white witches… The series will never let us forget how beautiful they found the other women yet NEVER gave Bonnie those compliments and moments to just be beautiful in a gown. Mystic Falls had a dance every damn moment yet how many of those was Bonnie enjoying herself? She couldn’t even win prom queen without that being taken from her. “She’s always had good friends…” what? The friends that didn’t notice she was dead for months and only wanted her back because they needed her magic? The friends that don’t check up on her at all period until they want her magic? “Her family loves her” oh you mean the Grams they referred to as an alcoholic in s1? The father who worked soo much but clearly never wanted to stay. You mean Abby the woman that loved Elena and herself more than she loved Bonnie? Wait, no no you mean Lucy the woman who said she’d see Bonnie again and dies offscreen? Or all of the lovely WOC we never get to see…

Yall really be talking out your ass. The fans that claim “people make it so hard to love all three!” because of these metas ONLY have these issues when Bonnie fans want to speak and cater towards Bonnie first. Dont follow Bonnie fans if you’re going to get mad everytime they speak about Bonnie. I don’t fucking get that at all. WHY go out your way to follow someone and you know you don’t want to read anything they have to say. Not smart but whatever.

[rockanroller]

You can’t fucking play that game of “ignoring the voices of SA survivors” when people of SA are coming out and saying that they hate the graphic bdsm explicit scenes, because you just look like a massive hypocrite and dumber. I get what she’s trying to say about hypersexuality and we shouldn’t shame survivors of SA for being hypersexual but you don’t have to put explicit graphic images of a character getting SA. For fucks sales there was an episode of tuca and Bertie that handled SA and hypersexuality perfectly. How can you be this ignorant and just stuck in your bubble? I can go rants about shows/anime that handled SA and hypersexuality with nuance and sublty.

for context, one of my recent reblogs (here) of viv defending her handling of Angel Dust, where one of the things she posted is this:

and i totally agree anon. it’s hypocritical for viv to scoff that ppl aren’t listening to SA survivors (that are defending her,) when she isn’t listening to SA survivors (that aren’t defending her.)

SA representation is a touchy subject and a complex one that i’m not sure there’s a hard “right” or “wrong” answer or approach to only bc the experiences and coping methods of SA survivors are so varied and complex.

that said, there are criticisms from survivors that should be listened to and considered from *both* sides when reflecting on the handling of these very serious and complex topics—especially when the person handling them has been known to sexualize and enjoy abusive dynamics (mainly if not exclusively of mlm) in the past.

and i’ve already seen many survivors still giving her/the approach some benefit of doubt along with their critiques on how it was handled poorly *or* why—despite the fact they don’t have a surface problem with it—they are concerned bc of the ppl behind it (in this case viv and raph, both known for sexualizing mlm abuse and raph even publicly saying he is not an SA victim, only repressed and has “been controlled”.)

one repeated sentiment i’ve seen from survivors is they felt Addict handled the subject better, but from what they’ve seen of Angel’s behavior in the new series, and the snippets of Poison going around, they are concerned it’s heading in a worse direction.

feel free to share your thoughts on what other shows/anime handled it better anon.

and ty for sharing your thoughts.

[reioka-reads]

Title: Iron Widow

Author: Xiran Jay Zhao

Status: Keep

Series Continue: Yes

Okay. So. I’m going to preface this by saying that this has some spoilers in it. It’s only been a year so I’m aware that some people might still be on the waiting list at their library for this NYT Best Seller lol.

Anyway, sometimes I take a peep at the negative reviews on books to see if it changes my perspective and this time they absolutely did not. A lot of the negative reviews on this book have the same talking points: It feels rushed/some parts feel shoehorned in. And I agree. But you know what? Zhao does too. I remember them making a post somewhere (I follow them on both Tumblr and TikTok so it could have been either one) explaining how they had to cut back parts because it was their debut novel and in the publishing industry, the companies don’t like those novels to exceed a certain amount. Zhao, also, was not satisfied with their novel as it was published. Knowing that, I felt like I could see the parts where they cut back to fit into those guidelines. I think, if they hadn’t had to cut back, it would have been an even better book than it is.

That being said, I thought this book was great. I actually caught Zhao on TikTok and that’s what led me to reading the book (they are very funny and clever). It was an interesting premise and I enjoyed it. It felt very… refreshing, somehow? I’m not sure that’s the word I want but you know, after the inundation of vampires/werewolves/wizard schools the past few years, it was a breath of fresh air. I especially loved that the one-sidedness of the love triangle lasted maybe about a minute before all of these bi disasters decided actually no let’s be a true triangle. Good for them.

Zetian was brutality in its purest form. I love that for her. But I also loved the parts where she was vulnerable—where she allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of the men she loved. And how she refused to feel shame in front of others either. I also, for some reason, really like that she’s disabled? And it’s a focal point of the story, her constantly thinking about how she’s crippled and how it was supposed to make her desirable but all it did was make her life harder; how she’s constantly comparing her Lotus feet to the unmarred feet of her female peers and feeling envy and shame. It’s not a throwaway problem, it doesn’t get fixed, and I’m interested to see how it’s going to show up in the story in the future. I wish we could have seen Yizhi and Shimin fleshed out as much as she was, but the breadcrumbs that were dropped that I pieced together have me looking forward to maybe seeing more fleshing out in the sequel(s).

This story had so many twists and turns that I was constantly and genuinely shocked (delightfully so!) when they happened. I itched to get back to the book when I had to put it down; I wanted to know what happened next. I honestly didn’t expect the betrayal from the Black Tortoise and Shimin’s “death,” and I mourned with Zetian as soon as his qi reader hit zero. Then she actually found Qin Zheng and the yellow dragon! Piloted it herself!!! And then Shimin wasn’t dead and apparently the “gods” had saved him?! What the fuck!!!! And Yizhi simply killing his father with no remorse, no regrets. Qiu was probably the only person who figured out how Zetian truly ticked and he was so busy facing off with her that he didn’t even think his son could or would turn on him. My only beef is that Xiuying wasn’t alive to see Zetian crush her family to death, so that she could see that Zetian was stronger than her in every way.

I have more thoughts but I can’t really seem to articulate them, so I think I’ll leave this here. So bummed that the release date for Heavenly Tyrant has been pushed back, but I appreciate that Zhao is being transparent for their reasons. If pushing it back means a better story, I’m happy to wait.

[hyunnieshannie]

EX | HJ

Chapter 3: We'll be your new body guards

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 8,408

General Synopsis: Your ex? Shitty. Your family? Worse. Your best friend? Left for a tour in the middle of one of the worst times of your life. How are you meant to deal with planning what should have been your wedding, dealing with your family, and pretending like you're not falling apart all on your own?

General Warnings: Idol! Jisung, mentions of other Idols (P1Harmony/Seventeen), all views on these idols are purely fictional. Idol AU. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smoking and drug use (weed and cigarettes), Mentions of drinking, angst, self esteem issues, depression. Y/N is older than Jisung. (I'm sorry for the jokes that come out of this) (any tags I missed please feel free to let me know! More tags to be added as the story goes on.)

Chapter Warnings: SO MANY HURTFUL THINGS SAID IM SO SORRY, FIGHTING (nothing physical), there's just a lot to unpack.

→ A/N: God I am so unoriginal with names, sorry to the friends I threw into this... such a long chapter, I just HAD to get in that fight, and didn't realize how long it was oh my god. I hope you guys enjoy though!

PREVIOUS ꕀ❀ꕀ SERIES MASTER LIST ꕀ❀ꕀ NEXT

“Hey,” Jisung says as he opens the door gently, you stand there staring down at your shoes as he speaks, you feel slightly rude not looking at him as you mutter a pathetic ‘hello’ to him. The door swings open wider, granting you space to walk inside. Keeho walks in before you, carrying your suitcases, as you clutch your favorite stuffed animal. The familiar feeling of embarrassment nulls the rest of your senses. You hadn’t felt like this since your first time walking into Keeho’s home seven months ago, only this time it’s worse. This time instead of coming into a friend's home, someone you’d known for years; you’re walking into a home full of people you’d barely even met. 

“It’s just until I get back,” Keeho whispers, as he gently nudges you forward. Hesitantly you walk in and observe your new living space. The house is nice so far, the living room is large and clean, and the kitchen is modern. There are stairs leading up just on the further side of the room, large windows spanned the far wall allowing for the orange colors of the setting sun to seep right in. Your bags are placed down with a thud, as Keeho straightens himself out, standing tall beside you. “Thanks, Ji. Seriously, this means a lot to us” he says. The unease of being in a new place is bearable but the thought of having to call this home for the next few months, doesn’t sit right. This isn’t home, not yours at least. A few voices sound from upstairs, muffled behind closed doors. 

“No problem, honestly. Everyone’s happy to have her, and Min’s pretty excited to have another girl in the house.” Min? Another girl? Meeting Jisung’s other roommates was something you had prepared yourself for but there was never any mention of another girl living in the house, and the idea of that scared you. It wasn’t typically hard for you to get along with other women, but you’d surrounded yourself so much with the boys you’d almost forgotten what the company of a woman would be like, and Leah was hardly a good example of sisterhood among women. 

“Ah, I’m sure she is; living with you guys must be rough. Can’t imagine how she’s survived.” Keeho laughs, 

“mmm, “ Jisung hums, “She might actually be worse than the rest of us, you should hear her at night it’s-” 

“Woah I don’t want to know!” Keeho blushes, clearly making a presumption about the end of Jisung’s sentence. 

“Not like that you creep.” Jisung laughs, “She plays fucking league of legends, valorant, and shit she gets riled up screams at her teammates, honestly sometimes I wonder how Chan is the one with a banned account and not her, I mean her toxicity is way up there sometimes” he giggles as he turns to you, watching as you look around and take in the new environment. She’s toxic enough for Jisung to wonder why her online games haven’t banned her, you think to yourself, Fuck how am I even going to speak to her? 

“She yelled at you, didn't she?” Keeho snickers as Jisung side eyes him, 

“Yea- THAT’S NOT THE POINT KEEHO” Jisung whines, loud thumps come from upstairs making their way towards the stairs, the girl you could only assume Jisung yells out to him, 

“ARE YOU STILL TALKING SHIT JI?” She yells, “I SWEAR TO GOD JISUNG THE NEXT TIME YOU INT ME IN A RANKED GAME, WILL BE THE LAST TIME WE DUO” She stares up at Jisung who turns to her un-phased, “And I’ll report you for inting. Maybe post on twitter how shit you are at Lea-” slowly her gaze falls on you, she quiets down quickly as her face flushes a bright shade of red, “Oh shit-” she mutters, “You’re here,” you smile up at the girl, her eyes still narrowed as she looks at Jisung, “You should have warned me you fucking moron,” She says before turning back around, “I’ll be right back!” 

“Hey wait!” Jisung calls out, reaching out for her as if magically he’d be able to pull her from the stairs to the front door, “Where's your friend?” he asks, her face is dark from the hood she has pulled over her head and her expression is slightly unreadable, 

“Why do you want to know?” she smirks, 

“I just want to know if she’s staying for dinner or not.” He sighs, another person in the house, ‘It won’t be overwhelming Y/N’ ‘It’ll be fine Y/N’ Kee you liar. 

“Why does it matter to you, you’re not the one that cooks in the house.” she smirks again, as Jisung looks up at her with eyes that silently tell her to ‘shut the fuck up’  she’s with Chan in his room anyway” 

“WAIT JISUNGS COOKING?” More loud thuds come from upstairs, a door slamming open as someone leans over the railing, “WAIT YOU CAN COOK?” She laughs, “Who’d have known!”

“Shut it Maddy and go back to eating Chan’s face or something,” Jisung sighs, the girl laughs loudly as she walks away back into the room she came from, 

“We’re just watching videos, you loser!” 

“Sure you are!” he yells back, 

“Don’t be mad ‘cause it aint you!” She yells back before the door slams shut, Jisung fakes a gag which earns him a pillow to the face thrown directly at him by the other girl who still stood on the stairs, quickly she turns back around and runs back up hiding herself in her hoodie and disappearing into the second level. A door shuts, and now you’re back to being with only Keeho and Jisung. 

“Sorry,” Jisung mutters, “Maddy and Mini are something.” You give him a weak smile, you were told you’d just be meeting his roommates, you didn’t expect another girl, and NOW a friend of said girl, and Chan? “I’ll introduce you to Min, Hyunjin, and Changbin after you get settled,” you nod as he turns back to Keeho. “Have fun on tour,” he smiles widely, genuinely. Jisung brings Keeho into a hug, as he wishes him luck and fun on his adventure around the world. You stare up at Keeho wishing, for a moment he’d just take you with them; but you know that he can’t. That’s not how it works. 

After a few more minutes of chatting, Keeho pulls you into a tight hug. “I’ll be back soon, Y/N/N” you sigh into his chest as he whispers to you that it’s only going to be a few months, that you can call him whenever, that even if he isn’t physically present; he’s still here for you. You know he is. You know he’d never leave you alone willingly and you know that you can talk to him whenever you want but it wasn’t that. It was still the idea of being with new people you barely know. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“And that’s the entire first floor.” Jisung says as you slowly follow behind him, the first floor was mainly the kitchen, and a utility room connected to it. The living room being the centerpiece of the first floor. It had a small powder room, and a larger room filled with mixing equipment, microphones, and different instruments all crammed into it. 

As he finishes showing you the last room, Chan makes his way down the stairs smiling warmly as he spots you, “Y/N,” he takes wide strides towards you as the other girl who’s voice you’d only heard follows closely behind him, “good to see you again,” he brings you into a tight hug; your body tenses up. Unsure as to why he’s even hugging you in the first place. He lets you go as the girl walks up slowly beside him, placing herself into the situation. Shit. You think to yourself, avoiding eye contact with her as you mumble a quick ‘you too’.

“Hi,” the girl says cheerfully, as she extends her hand; you take it cautiously hoping for her not to squeeze too tightly as a warning of coming near what seems to be her man. “I’m Maddy!” 

“Y/N, nice to meet you,” your cheeks turn a light shade of rose, as you look at the ground. She holds your hand softly as she introduces herself. 

“I should get going! But it was nice to meet you Y/N! Hope to see you again,” she smiles, waving goodbye; she wasn’t as bad as you had thought but still. What an uncomfortable way to meet someone. Chan quickly follows her to the door, leaning down to her height to give her a quick kiss goodbye. “Goodnight,” she smiles, before quickly changing from a sweet and soft voice to screaming up the stairs. “BYE MIN!!” She waits a moment, no answer. “Bitch probably can’t hear me over her game,” she giggles while opening the door, just as she walks out Jisung let’s out a loud sigh. “What Ji?”��

“You hate me just say it,” he whimpers, truly looking at her like a kicked puppy. 

“True” she laughs, 

“Wow.” 

“Shut up,” she continues giggling as she rushes over to give him a hug, he smiles at her embrace; letting her go as a car pulls up to the driveway, headlights beaming in through the windows. She rushes out the door, Chan who stands by it watches her until the very moment the car takes off. 

“Sorry,” Jisung’s face shows clear signs of embarrassment, does he like Chan’s girlfriend? “Let’s get your stuff upstairs,” he goes to pick up one of your suitcases, but Chan beats him to it. Picking up both leaving Jisung to grab only the small backpack you had with you. 

“I got it, you show her upstairs,” Chan walks in front of you, trudging up the stairs, muscles flexing as he carries the two heavy bags. Jisung motions with his arms, for you to follow Chan up as he follows behind. The stairs led to a smaller open area, with two hallways leading into multiple different rooms. A large clean  shared bathroom in the middle of the hallways to the left.

“That’s Changbin, and Chan’s bathroom,” Jisung smiles. The three bedrooms in the hall all had their doors closed with names labeled above them. Chan, Bin, Han. They read. “We put those there for you, so you could find whoever you needed.” His voice indicated he was shy about mentioning how they’d thought of labeling themselves, all for your sake. He takes a quick right into the further hall, where three more doors sit closed. Chaos, Hyun, Mini & Y/N “I hope you don’t mind,” he whispers, “Mini said she’d share her room.” share her room. If you didn’t think you were already intruding, you definitely did now. Knowing you’d have to share a room.

“W-what’s the ‘chaos’ room?” 

“Gaming mainly, it’s where Mini put her pc when she first moved in, from there we kind of just decided to let her have it. Chan put some sound boards up to try and muffle her screaming, it helps. A bit.” he laughs as he opens the room. The lights were off but the colors from the computer shone brightly throughout, pinks and purples, as the silent pc sat turned on. Two Monitors, displaying colorful moving backgrounds of animated characters. LED lights wrapped around the room, a camera connected to the PC by organized wires, a ring light sat tucked in a corner. The room is what you would expect out of one of those big streamers you often see on twitch or YouTube. The wall behind the large black and white chair had a nice backdrop, but the one behind the pc was covered to the max in posters, polaroid's, and light sticks hanging from command hooks. 

“Is that a-” 

“Photocard inside the pc?” Jisung laughs, “Yes, she says it gives her good luck in games.” 

“She streams?” 

“Sometimes, I think this is mainly stuff from her old place; she used to do a bunch of content on different sites but stopped recently.” he closes the door quietly, as Chan drops the bags in front of the door labeled Mini & Y/N. “I’ll go get her,” he smiles, walking towards Hyunjin’s door. He taps on it lightly, and someone rushes to open it. She opened it quickly, smiling as she walked out and closing it behind her. You can finally get a good look at the person you’d now be sharing a room with. Her name, Mini, was the opposite of her. She’s taller than both Chan and Jisung, with long hair split-dyed down the middle. Black and white, she wore a large black hoodie and a baggy pair of sweats. “Min, this is Y/N.” Jisung says, as she approaches you. “Y/N this is-” 

“Mini, Moni, whatever works, sorry about earlier. I was expecting you later.” her voice is soft, but not high pitched, a calming mid range honestly. Jisung looks back to you, attempting to read your expression but you offer him nothing. Just a weak smile. 

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” She smiles at you, bringing you into a tight hug. 

“Be nice to have another girl around here,” She giggles, 

“Yeah, as if you’re a girl.” Jisung snorts, 

“Do you want to die now? Or should I smother you while you sleep?” She gives him a glare, and he quickly backs down. “Go take Hyune to the store. I planned dinner. He knows what to get. I’ll get her settled in because god knows you’re not going anywhere near my room.” Jisung nods as he walks towards Hyunjin’s room, looking back at you with caring eyes before slipping quickly into the room. Mini takes you inside her room. It’s nice, the same large windows spanned one wall, a large bed with a fluffy black duvet and matching pillows was centered against the furthest wall. The room is a light shade of blue, while most of her décor was white, a few paintings hung on her walls, and a study desk sat against the windowed wall. The closet was large, and the door to the washroom within the room was kept open. “It’s not much, everything else is in the other room-” she says nervously, 

“No- It’s nice.” you say, she smiles weakly at you before laying one of your suitcases across the bed. 

“I cleared out the closet the best I could for you-” she says as she opens the door, half of it empty with hangers waiting for your clothes to be placed, “and this is the washroom,” she walks over with you following. It was a nice size, for sure big enough for two. What you found most interesting was the shower, it was huge. The tub centered inside of it, honestly it looked like it had popped out of a ‘bathroom inspo’ Pinterest page. “This used to be the master bedroom.” she says softly, “Boys gave it to me expecting us to use it since-”

“Us?” You ask, you didn’t mean to let it out. Your mouth simply started before your brain could catch up, 

“Mhm,” she hums, “Hyune and I” 

“Ah so you’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend.” she nods, “Explains the photocard in your pc” you awkwardly laugh as you mention it, of course this was his girlfriend, what else should you have expected? She came out of his room, she had mentioned him already and let alone the photocard, it should have connected by now. 

“You’re Keeho’s girlfriend right?” she asks, you could tell she’d been trying to find the right words, as she fiddled with her rings. 

“No, just a childhood friend,” you say, it wasn’t the first time you’d been mistaken for being his girlfriend, people had assumed many times before. You two were just close, and it often led to misconceptions of how the two of you felt towards each other. You had never really considered it but if you looked deep down you knew all you felt from him was a platonic love, similar to the one you should feel towards siblings. “I get it all the time,” you assure her, as she looks at you as if she’d just offended your family, concerned. 

“Fuck- Sorry I shouldn’t have assumed,” 

“To be fair I assumed about you too-” 

“Yeah but that’s a fair assumption,” 

“So was yours,” the two of you laugh together, and hard. The first sign of life you’d given since arrival. Talking to her was awkward, but only because you didn’t know her; but as she warmed up to you, you warmed up to her as well. She quickly rushes to shut the door as Hyunjin’s swings open, Jisung’s voice booming loudly through the halls as he screams out they were off to the store, and that if anyone wanted anything to text them. 

“Sorry he’s so fucking loud all the time-” she giggles. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

Mini helped you unpack as the two of you spoke, getting to know each other. You learned she’s a film student and that her favorite colors are black and red. She listened carefully to every detail you told her about yourself, and showed genuine interest in the things you liked. The fear of her slowly dissipated as the two of you talked and laughed. She seemed intimidating, a cold look to her when you’d first been introduced but as the hours passed, you came to see she was warm, like a summer breeze. 

“Can I ask you something?” she says as she props herself up on the bed, you stare back at her as you finish hanging your last shirt, 

“Shoot,” 

“What’s it like being friends with Keeho, and his group?” 

“I should be asking you that question, what’s it like being friends with Stray Kids?” 

“Hell.” she mutters, “Jisung is so loud all the time, and he says I’M the one that yells?” you chuckle at her response, “All seriousness they’re great people, I’m lucky to have met Jeongin.”

“Jeongin?” she hums in response laying back down as she stares at the ceiling, 

“I had a film study with this director for one of their videos. Great opportunity by the way. Anyways Jeongin was looking over some of his parts and he wasn’t too happy with his performance, nerves or something. I don’t remember how the conversation went, but as a film student I also had to take writing, and acting courses. You know; to create jobs when you don’t have one or something.” she sighs, “So we got to talking, I kind of said the basic first year acting class bullshit my teacher said, but he seemed so grateful. Next thing you know he was talking to me every time we were on set and he didn’t have scenes to film-” 

“I swear this is starting to sound like a romance,” 

“NO!” She laughs, “not at all, more like people with the same goal. He wanted to do well for the fans, and I wanted to make sure he did well for the fans. I wasn’t much help but- he was kind. The guys took notice that he’d be around me all the time, kinda reminded me of my little brother. Chan introduced himself first but after that I didn’t see them as often. Then get this-” she sits up excitedly, her eyes glistening as she recounts the memory. “I got an assistant job with the director, I did so well apparently that I was able to get a fucking job! Even after I changed my hair, my appearance, everything Jeongin remembered me the next time we saw each other like- a year and a half later!”  she lets out a sound you can only register as something endearing, “he said, ‘Mini! You’re back! I can’t wait to show you my improvements!’ and he did so good. I was absolutely stunned, I mean he was talented before but this time around he was even better! The shoot went so well, they had invited a lot of the staff for a dinner after the video release! I spent most of the night with him, talking about film and photography. And he goes-” she clears her throat before mimicking Jeongin's voice “You need to meet Hyunnie~ Only he talks about that stuff the way you do, you’ll get along! And then boom, there I am arguing with him over which film camera is better for like an hour. While the rest of them laughed at us~” you could tell by her voice how excited she was, you could see in her eyes how much love she held for both Jeongin and Hyunjin. She groans as she looks at you, completely entranced by her answer, “I didn’t wanna talk about me,” she huffs, “Go on tell me your story!” you think to yourself about the first time you’d met Keeho, 

“I mean I knew Kee, when he was Stephen” you giggle, walking back towards the bed and placing yourself on the opposite end of her, “Family friends, we grew up together, he’s basically a younger brother to me” 

“No way you’re older than him!” she exclaims, almost shocked at the fact. 

“Mhm, Then he came here. He’s been here longer than me but, when I moved in with him last year I felt like I was at home ya know?” she nods, “Three years I’ve been here and nothing felt more like home than being with him,” 

“Five years? Wait you just said-”

“I lived with Kee for about seven months of those three years, I lived with J- an ex. But Kee was quick on taking me in when it failed, but I have known the other boys since debut mainly, they’re also hell.” you change the subject quickly avoiding talking more about your relationship, your failed one at that. “Kee, Intak and Taeyang are the ones I spend most of my time with, they’re like grown toddlers I swear to you.” she laughs at your response before agreeing with the statement, “Are all boys stupid?” you giggle, 

“YES! Oh my god.” A soft knock at the door ends the conversation quickly, which to you came as a slight blessing. Your mind, though distracted for most of the evening, was slowly starting to revert to its thoughts of Leah and him. 

“Hyune say’s dinner is ready,” Chan says softly as he opens the door, “Bin won’t be home till later, something about a plan you came up with?” Mini’s eyes widen as she leaps off the bed, standing quickly and rushing to the door, grabbing Chan by the shoulders before jumping up and down excitedly, 

“HE DID IT, HE DID IT” she yells out, “HE FINALLY ASKED HER OUT!” She lets out a high pitched squeal as both you and Chan look at her confused. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

At dinner, Mini sat next to Chan, Hyunjin in front of her while you sat beside him. Jisung sat on the far end of the table as he scribbled down notes into a small journal. It was a nice dinner, and the conversation flowed. Mainly questions about yourself as everyone tried to get to know you a bit more, still the awkwardness of being around a new group of people persisted and to make everything worse, your phone buzzed non stop throughout all of it. The group had told you multiple times to answer, that it would be fine. Maybe it was Keeho checking up on you before his flight. You only had not checked because you were worried it’d come off as rude, so as clean up began you excused yourself to check the messages. 

Call me ~Leaaah

y/n?~Leaaah

dude.~Leaaah

You’re supposed to be helping me where are youuu ~Leaaah

Keeho isn’t picking up, call me asap~Leaaah

Y/Nnnnnnnnnnnnnn~Leaaah

Girl if you don’t…~Leaaah

I’m gonna cry and send you a video if you don’t call me~Leaaah

Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N ~Leaaah

I HAVE AN IMPORTANT QUESTION ~Leaaah

UGH ~Leaaah

You sigh, as you look at the messages. Instantly a new one comes in.

FINALLY YOU READ MY MESSAGES, IM CALLING NOW~Leaaah

You really should turn off read receipts. The call comes in and you reluctantly answer it, it’d been two days of non stop messages; you’ve answered every question you could possibly think of so what now did she want?

“Y/n where have you been!” she sighs, instinctively you roll your eyes as her high pitched voice leaves a ringing in your ears. “Doesn’t matter anyways I have a favor to ask,” 

“What is it?” 

“Well it’s not really a favor, you’re my maid of honor so you have to do it, anyways I got my binder sorted out and I wanna go over some things with you, so we're meeting tomorrow at one pm.”  

“Where?” 

“Your place” 

“No Leah, I can’t-” 

“You HAVE to!” She cries out, you know that as her maid of honor you had a duty of going over the planning with her, being there for her through every step. Not only as her maid of honor but as her sister, but truthfully you weren’t ready to help plan what should have been your wedding. You remember day dreaming of the day he’d ask, you remember your little scrapbook of things you’d wish to have, one that never saw the light of day. One you kept tucked away in secret, the only person having seen it being her. 

“Ok, I’ll figure it out. Just not here-”

“PERFECT TEXT ME THE ADDRESS” She yells before abruptly hanging up the call. You let out a loud sigh as you walk back into the living room, sitting down carefully on the couch where everyone else sat playing an intense game of Super Smash Brothers, Jisung on the other hand was nowhere to be seen. 

“All good?” Mini asks, as she focuses on the screen in front of her, furiously smashing on the buttons of the control. 

“Yeah, just my sister wanting to meet with me to plan her wedding.” you sigh, 

“Oh congrats, that's great! When?” Chan says, 

“Tomorrow, but I don’t know where to take her for it-” 

“Just bring her here, the boys can lock themselves away in their rooms since they have the day off!” Mini smirks as she pushes Hyunjin off the platform in game, he grunts as he looks at her as if he’d been betrayed. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-” “Should be fine, just us anyways and Jeongin but we’ll be upstairs mostly. I’ll make snacks” Hyunjin says, as he stands from the couch, stretching his long limbs out with a loud yawn. 

“Oh- Okay,” you sigh.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

As you lay in Mini’s bed you stare into the ceiling, wondering if it was a good idea to invite Leah into a house that wasn’t even yours. Everyone had insisted that it was fine, but you knew Leah. She’d be distracted at the sight of them, she only knew a few of the boys of Seventeen well and often gawked at anyone remotely famous. Whether that be a tiktok person with a few thousand followers, or an actual celebrity you couldn’t help but think slightly ill of your sister. She’d always wanted to be someone, something more than what she was. She wanted fame, she wanted to be recognized. She wouldn’t go to any extremes to gain it, but she wanted it. Doesn’t everyone want to be more than they are? Doesn’t everyone wish for some sort of fame? That’s why you chose to go into college as a music major, was it not? To gain something? Some sort of relevance, in your irrelevant little life. Because isn’t everyone's life irrelevant if the world doesn’t know who you are? Sure, most of the songs you’d produced were sold off, you were merely a ghost writer, but it would be nice if someone told you how much they admired your music, it would be nice to be recognized for your work. The difference was that you worked for what you wanted, though nothing had come from it yet. Leah wanted it to come simply, Leah wanted to be noticed because she’s pretty, and ‘don’t pretty people become famous overnight?’. Yeah she had attempted her luck on tiktok, YouTube, and being one of those ‘Instagram’ models, but she offered nothing of substance. 

Leah had no niche, she wasn’t funny in the eyes of the internet, nor did she create videos that were ‘captivating’ most if not all of the time she relied on her looks, lip syncing to songs hoping to become the next Bella Poarch or Addison Rae. 

And, That’s just not how it works.

You tossed and turned the entire night, hoping Leah would be on her best behavior, and lightly thanking Mini for sleeping in Hyunjin’s room because by the way you were rolling about the bed, you’re sure you’d only keep her awake. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“Mm, you sure you want me to stay? I can go bother Jeongin and Jisung upstairs..” Mini says as she sits upright on the couch, looking mostly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, Leah said she wanted to make girl friends so-” you trail off as the bell rings, you’re quick to open the door. Not even a hello leaves your sisters lips, she just simply walks in as if she owns the place. Walking right past you to admire the home, 

“Cute~” She winks at you, “Oh HI! You must be the other girl!” she exclaims as she rushes to Mini who now looks even more uncomfortable. Leah brings her into a hug, as Mini gives you wide eyes, barely even touching your sister. She doesn’t like being touched on some days. You remember, and this was one of those days.

“Hi,” Mini says, “Monica, nice to meet you.” She had told you the night before how much she hated her name, how much she preferred Moni, or Mini over ever being called Monica so why would she introduce herself that way?

 “So where is everyone else!” she yells out excitedly, 

“Upstairs minding their own business” Mini laughs,

“Tell them to come say hi, if they’re going to be my sister's friends they should be mine too!” Of course, she doesn’t say hello and immediately asks to meet the people that even you, barely know. This was just how Leah is. The sound of a door creaking open, loud music finding its way down the hall, as footsteps sound near the stairs. Jisung casually strolls down, followed by Chan, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Changbin. “Ee'' Leah lets out, “You must be the members of SKZ I've heard sooooo much about you!” Leah jumps, “My sister is obsessed with you guys!” Maybe it was in her tone, but you could swear she was trying to embarrass you in front of them, “Like literally obsessed, can’t believe she’s even functioning in front of you right now!” Jisung shoots you a concerned look, one that read ‘what is she saying’ you shrug at him, and he puts on a smile quickly, 

“Oh thank god someone likes our music,” He laughs, “I was worried we’d be starving artists for life!” Leah is quick to laugh at his joke, “I’m Han.” he says extending a hand, Han. His introduction to her was different from the way he’d introduced himself to you. He was being professional. 

“I.N,” Jeongin smiles, as he walks up to Mini placing a hand on her head which she immediately shakes off, as he smirks down at her. 

“Bang Chan,”

“Changbin,”

“Hyunjin.” They were all, including Mini, being professional. As if speaking to a fan of the group and not your family member. They were being careful.

Something in Hyunjin’s body language seemed off. The night before he was relaxed, maybe it wasn’t your place to judge how he carried himself, and you don’t know him well enough to be able to read him but you do know that he’s tense. Giving Leah a side eye she seemed to miss. “Oh, Y/N” he says seemingly relaxing as he approaches you, “I added you to the group chat this morning for the house, we kind of just use it for whatever. Talking, and plans, all that stuff.” 

“Ohh cute! A group chat, awe Y/N I wanna be in it!” Leah whines. Had you never noticed how Leah always managed to inject herself into situations that were clearly not meant for her? Have you always looked at your sister with loving eyes? Were you a terrible person for thinking she was looking for attention, from people she doesn’t know?

 Hyunjin gives Mini a look, a look of ‘For what’. 

His expressions are easy to read, his emotions clearly conveyed from a glance, as he faced Mini with his back towards Leah. Mini glances at Chan, who quickly speaks up. 

“Hah, I mean it’s just a housemate thing, he says we talk but it's mainly grocery lists. You’d get bored of it, ya know?” nervously he looks at Leah whos nodding away agreeing with his statements, 

“True, I would! You should see the group chat I have with my boys, gosh they’re so all over the place, honestly it’s best for me to not join another!” bragging. She’s either bragging, or playing off the fact she was denied something she wanted.

 “Anyways we came down because we were gonna get some snacks so- we’ll be off” Changbin says as Jeongin walks back carrying a bowl full of packaged snacks, Hyunjin reaches for one of the packages before immediately getting scolded by Jeongin, 

“HEY!” he huffs, “What would Seungmin say,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes before snatching the snack and racing up the stairs, 

“What he doesn’t see, he can’t nag me for!” he laughs, as the rest of them chase him down. 

“Awe, he’s such a cutie” Leah giggles, causing Mini to sit up. 

“He is, honestly I let him get away with way too much because of that face” She giggles, “Remind me to call Seungminnie to snitch on him later Y/N,'' you nod “Seriously Y/N don’t let me forget, even if he threatens to break up with me don’t let me give in to those puppy dog eyes he’ll give me later!” You laugh at the comment as she eases the mood, while drawing a line that she in fact was Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Engaged or not, she wasn’t going to let the hopeful look in Leah’s eyes slide. 

“Anyways, look what I found!” Leah dismisses the comments made, sitting down comfortably on the couch as she leans over the coffee table, rummaging through her bag and pulling out a blush pink binder, then slowly pulling out a smaller green scrapbook. Your scrapbook. “I found it in a box at the house!” she smiles, “Ugh, it’s been so long since we looked at it!” she pushes it towards you. 

You shake as you take the book, “I’d rather not open this Leah,” you softly say, 

“Oh please Y/N you had such cute ideas!” Leah says as she snatches the book, prying it open to the first page. Themes. Mini watches you carefully, mentally noting how your demeanor had changed since Leah had walked in. “Ah a forest theme! So cute!” she cries out, “We’re thinking of Jeju!” 

“Jeju is nice,” Mini says, 

“RIGHT!” Mini only hums, still watching as Leah flips through the pages carelessly. You stare down at your hands. Please stop. You begged internally. “Oh, so Y/N” you look back up at her, the scrapbook now closed.  “I booked my appointment to try on dresses!” 

“Oh fantastic, show me what you looked at.” You force a smile, as she pulls her binder out. Opening it to the dresses tab. Your heart stops for a moment. The page you had created of dresses was cut up and plastered all over the place, and the gorgeous dress you had admired lay centered on the page. You remember the day you had first seen it, then and there you had decided that that was the dress for you. That was your dream dress. You studied it, praying to find some sort of difference, praying that it was some sort of similar dress, that it wasn’t the one you’d day dreamed of wearing for years. 

“Hope you don’t mind, but I saw that and I fell in love,” Leah smirks, 

“What are you doing?” your voice is flat, as you stare at her. Whatever game she was playing at, you were over. 

“What do you mean?” she says with a pout, 

“Listen, I'm not feeling well. Let's do this some other time.” you say as you stand from your spot on the floor. It wasn't a lie, seeing the dress you dreamed of lay in front of you, knowing she would be trying it on made you sick to your stomach. You thought you could do okay, you thought you’d be fine helping her, but clearly you were wrong. Nausea begins to overwhelm you, and you feel your heart race as your body threatens to puke up every negative thought, every memory, every single little detail that made your stomach churn. 

“Common Y/N don’t be like that,” Leah sighs as she leans back on the couch, Mini still watching everything unfold. Her body tensing up as if she felt the earthquake before it hit, the tsunami of emotions that was bound to flood the room. “I know you loved it, but.” There’s always a butt before the bullshit. “It would be a waste not to see it. I know you wanted this to be your dress, but I can’t stop my heart from loving what I love, it would go to good use. It will finally be seen because at least one of us is getting married, also for the party. Can you invite those girls from Keeho’s company for me? He didn't answer so I assumed he’s just busy. Maybe Moni can invite people from her boy's company too!” Mini flinches at the last words, looking at Leah with a disgusted face, and you. You’re unsure if you want to cry or scream. 

“About the dress Leah. Not today, I can’t do this.” you sigh, “And I can’t just invite random idols to a party for someone they don’t know. I'm sorry.”

“You have to.” 

“Leah, we’re not doing this today please.” you were desperate for an out, you couldn’t stand sitting here planning your dream wedding for her, you couldn’t sit there watching her admire your dress. You couldn’t do it. Not today. 

“You’re fucking pathetic.” Leah mutters, as she stares daggers into you. “I can’t believe you.” 

“What.” 

“Over a fucking dress.” you sighs, 

“It’s not really about the dress, Le-”

“You said you were over it.” she snaps, her anger shining through. The entire time she’d been here she’d been nothing but rude, and now she has the audacity to be mad at you? 

“Leah, we’re not doing this.” 

“Fucking. Pathetic, like I said.” Leah scoffs, “No wonder Keeho sent you here, I’m sure he was hyped to get rid of you and your pessimistic ass!” she shouts. Causing enough of a commotion for the boys to come quietly down the stairs to figure out what the yelling was about. “This is why Jeonghan left you,” she mutters, “Because you can’t see any good in anything, I don’t fucking know how anyone does it. Dealing with you, you’ve been nothing but sour ever since you found out. Couldn’t even stay the whole time during the engagement party. How the fuck do you do it Monica? How do you deal with her fucking depressed ass?” Mini doesn’t know, Leah please stop. You cry out, but words don’t form. You look at your little sister, tears filling your eyes, anger boiling at a dangerous heat within you, threatening to overflow. 

“Do not speak to me.” Mini says a little too calmly. “Do not speak to your sister like that, and certainly do not speak on behalf of Keeho. We all know why she’s here. It has nothing to do with you, or her. Apologize, please.” 

“Why should I!” she screams, 

“Because you are in my home, and I will not tolerate this shit.” Mini says, 

“YOUR Home? This is Bang Chans home, Changbin’s home, Han’s home, Hyunjin’s home.” Leah laughs, “you’re just like her,” she says as she points to you, “Living off your idol boyfriend.” the venom in Leah’s words stung, and everyone in the room could tell. Hyunjin quickly making his way to Mini as she stands there trying to calm her breathing. 

“Don’t fucking speak to her like that.” Hyunjin interjects, 

“Get out.” you mutter, 

“I’m not fucking wrong! You lived off Jeonghan for so long you fucking pa-” 

“We’re done here.” Chan says, as he demands the rooms attention. “Listen, we invited you into our home to allow you to plan your wedding. Not fight with Monica, or insult your sister.” 

“You don’t know me.” Leah laughs, “Who the fuck are you to-”

“Even more reason for you to leave.” Chan responds, not letting her finish her sentence. Jisung makes his way to the table, gathering Leah's things and quickly throwing them on the table closest to the door. 

“This is a joke right?” Leah scoffs, your fists clench as you watch her continue her fit “You’re gonna defend her when she’s the one who came onto me first?” 

“Refusing to invite random idols who have no idea who you are to a party that has nothing to do with them isn’t coming to you, and neither is being uncomfortable about the fact you’ve decided to just use the dress she had planned out.” Mini laughs, “Delusional much? Like why would you need idols at it anyways don’t you have your own friends?” 

“I do but she has more connections, I want my day to be special as would anyone!” a gross excuse.

“You’re not entitled to Y/N’s friend circle.” Changbin says, his brows furrowed as he speaks. His chest, puffing up ready to defend you, even though he doesn’t even know you.

“Truth be told,” Jisung says, “The way you’re reacting right now is over the top. Did you really want Y/N’s help or were you hoping to use her for her connections?” Leah stands quickly from the couch, wide eyed as she stares of Jisung who’s now made his way in front of you, blocking her view of you as your tears begin to fall. 

“You’re all pathetic.” Leah mutters, “All of you. A joke. What did I expect out a group no one even likes.” she laughs as she runs her hand through her hair. “And you Monica, enjoy him sticking up for you while it lasts, I mean learn by example; look at how Y/N ended up. He’ll find someone better than whatever the fuck you are.” 

“Leah sto-” you begin standing up, tears falling leaving streaks of mascara down your face. How fucking embarrassing. For her to do this in front of them. In Front of people you're barely getting used to. You lightly push Jisung out of the way only to be cut off by Mini, her hand stretched out across you as she walks in front of you placing herself beside Jisung. 

“Y/N.” She says lightly, “It’s fine. Go to our room and breathe,” she whispers. Mini turns, now completely facing off with Leah. Mini was the complete opposite of her nickname. She stood tall, her stance intimidated even you who she was defending. 

You storm up the stairs into your shared room. Your heart pounding as she calmly told Leah to leave, letting her know if she refused that she would remove her, herself. Leah’s shouting only grew louder, until you heard Chan’s voice raise for the first time ever. The door slammed shut, and a few minutes of silence passed before Mini made her way into the room. Shutting the door behind her, she sat carefully on the bed as you tried your best to calm down. 

“I want to go home,” you sob, “But Keeho and his stupid fucking company, and-”

“You know, Y/N I may be over stepping here but,” Mini says as she looks at you, her body language indicating she was about to say something that made her uncomfortable, “Before I met Hyunnie, I was in a similar situation. I mean he didn’t ask my sister to marry him but he did some really messed up things,” she pauses hoping you wouldn’t yell at her for crossing a boundary. “What I’m saying is, I know it hurts right now but don’t blame Keeho for sending you here. What she said wasn’t true. He wasn’t getting rid of you, he just wants to make sure you have some support while he’s gone. We may still be very new to you, but I consider you a friend already. We all do. Even Jeongin, and he only met you a few hours ago.”

You look at her teary eyed, as she speaks. You’re afraid she’ll tell you not to cry over it anymore, that she’d tell you that you were being dramatic about the situation. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did, because your entire family had said it. ‘You can’t control who people fall in love with, you’ll get over it, don't be dramatic Y/N’ 

“Cry it out.” Mini says, “Scream if you have to, none of them will mind. You've been so strong for so long, you’ve been keeping your actual thoughts in for so long Y/N. So scream, let it all out. Get. Angry.” you look at her shocked, you expected something else but here she was telling you to get angry, to get everything out of your system. All the pent up anger, the hurt, all of it. And you did, it all came out at full force, all at once as you screamed and cried loudly for the whole house to hear, and possibly the neighbors a few houses down. She simply hugged you, letting you bawl into her chest as she played with your hair. Ten minutes. Ten minutes of screaming, ten minutes of crying and cursing the world for the injustices you’ve faced. That’s all it took for you to feel just a little bit better. 

A soft knock on the door made you straighten up and wiper your tears, Hyunjin walks in followed by Jeongin, Chan, Changbin and Jisung who held a cup of water, Jeongin carrying his bowl of snacks. Jisung handed you the water carefully, as you weakly smile up at him. 

“Sorry,” you mumble as you take a sip of the cool water. 

“It’s fine, we’re used to it. All of us do it, thanks to a certain someone” Jisung says as he motions with his head towards Mini, 

“Sometimes, you just got to get all that energy out into the world. Why bury it within yourself? It only hurts more to bottle it up.” Mini sighs, “I used to do it a lot. Like I said, they’re used to it.” You look down at your hands while Jisung crouches in front of you. 

“Feel better though?” He asks, you nod. The bed shifts as the other four boys sit on Mini’s bed. You watch Hyunjin cradle Mini who is now sitting in a ball up against him, Chan, Changbin and Jeongin sit silently. 

“You guys are cute,” you whisper. 

“Ew. now i want to die” Mini says as she quickly gets off Hyunjin, he gasps in offense. 

“As if you didn’t want to already,” Jeongin jokes, 

“First off, fuck you. Secondly go fuck yourself,” Mini hisses, 

“Well, which is it Mini? Do you want to fuck or should I go jer-” 

“You’re disgusting you fucking perv.” she snaps, “Your hand deserves so much better than you!” 

“Could say the same about Hyu-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll fucking bleach your brows in your sleep.” 

“NO WAIT NOT AGAIN” He yells in panic as Chan and Changbin laugh so hard they throw themselves back, almost falling off the bed.

You had forgotten you were crying now, laughing as hard as you witnessed the people around you. Hyunjin and Mini, Chan and Changbin, Jeongin, and Jisung who had moved his hand to yours and was now rubbing circles on the top of your hand with his thumb. Six new people, who like Keeho, somehow managed to make you feel a bit better about everything.

“Thanks, all of you.” you whisper, 

“For?” Changbin asks, 

“Everything. Letting me stay here, and especially what happened just now. I means alot.” 

“You’re a part of us now Y/N.” Chan says, “We wouldn’t let it slide for anyone, but especially not you.”

“We care about you,” Hyunjin smiles sweetly as he sits up, “Wasn’t the first time we had to do it either, I remember when we had to go off on Mini’s dad.”

“Yo fuck that guy.” Changbin huffs, 

“Ay, don’t turn this around on me Hyunnie. Also true but still.” Mini sighs, “Like I said, we might still not really know each other but you’re our friend now Y/N, sorry but you’re stuck with us now!” 

“Until the others come home, we’ll be your new body guards,” Jisung jokes, as he references how Taeyang, Intak, and Keeho gave themselves the title. “Specifically Mini tho, that bitch is like a rabid animal when she’s angry.” 

“She gets angry?” You asked, from the looks of everything that happened she was the calmest one there.

“Unfortunately,” Hyunjin sighs, shuddering at whatever memory popped into his head. The others laugh as Hyunjin makes a worried face. Their laughs are contagious. Their energy. Is contagious. If the energy this group of people carried were a sickness, people would never want to find a cure. You laugh alongside them as Mini hits Hyunjin with a pillow, defending herself saying she only gets angry at games. They’re a family. I can trust them. You think to yourself as you watch Jeongin and Changbin try to protect Hyunjin from the assault. As Chan yelled out that he’d call for backup, pulling out his phone to call the other members, as you laughed loudly with the rest of them; as Jisung admired your smile. 

Tag List: @g4m3girl @channiesbub@dugarzaddy@fairywriter-oracle@skzloveforever Thank you for letting me tag you <3

[satanicspeaks]

What I want to know about The Expanse world is how is data storage being managed? If there is that many people across our solar system (and beyond) then where is all the data being stored and how?

This also applies to other sci-fi media. Currently we are so used to places hosting data that it’s become an after thought (until AO3 goes down or someone remembers they don’t actually own a copy of the e-book they bought on kindle).

In The Expanse there are terminals, similar to phones but can do a lot more, where anyone can log in to a terminal with their identifier and then it has all their messages and things they need. So instead of the phone number system we have it’s more like logging in to a universal Facebook. That raises some security issues but not the point here.

By making it a Facebook type system then the person also doesn’t own their own data. It’s not solely stored on their device. There are tech in that world where data is only stored on one thing, like our USB’s, but that’s not the standard because there’s a network. For there to be a network there must be a place to connect it all to.

So, given what happens in book 6 (no spoilers here dw) I reckon it’s stored in the belt, somewhere in vacuum/space, on Luna, or on several of the moons. Reasoning is that reduces a lot of natural heat data servers would have to deal with, reduces natural environment problems. It would absolutely be several locations, sole locations are a serious liability, and also with how much emphasis the series puts on light delay data/communications from one to another that would cause bigger issues.

As I type this I just realised: each station/location would need to have some level of a local copy. There were times that characters quickly set up a new terminal within a minute, and functionally waiting long periods is just bad business.

This likely isn’t something the author considered for the series, because killing or taking data servers hostage would be a way to fuck everyone over. Hence strengthening to the idea that data storage is in *a lot* of locations, making it hard to do a full take over.

There is also some programming elements that make me ‘hmmm’, especially season 1 of the Tv series where a sole person is trying to crack complicated encryption on a time crunch. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a hobby programmer at most, my area is UX, so I don’t know if that’s truely effective. But from how over stated the complexity is it would make more sense to have several people on it (buuut of course story wise it’s cooler if one person can crack the really complicated Martian encryption).

I do wish the TV series showed Naomi as a programmer too, not just electrical and systems engineer. Maybe it’ll pop up later, I can see why they don’t with wanting a more visual way to show what she’s doing, but it feels like it understates her skills and what she can actually do.

Ty for reading my ramble if you made it this far. There’s practically no fandom for this series so mutuals can just second hand enjoy this

[maybege]

may's candid and personal take on fandom

On a more candid note, I’d like to talk more about my experience as a writer in fandom. I spent a long time thinking about this (a better part of the last six months, on and off) as I am usually trying to keep my opinions to myself due to events that are long ago now.

I really need you all to be kinder to writers.

I have been here since sometime around May 2020 and I think it is telling that the fandom circles around the same problems again and again and nothing ever changes.

Interaction is really low and I am not the first writer to lament this, nor will I be the last one but maybe I have this naïve hope that if enough people read the same thing again and again, it will finally stick. I know I haven’t put out content on a regular basis for a long time now but while it is not directly related to the level of interactions these works get, that rhythm will for sure not improve if interaction stays as low as it is. It can be really disheartening to know you have over a thousand followers and the reblogs/comments on your works do not even exceed 50.

Obviously, the way tiktok and fast paced social media work have influenced how we interact with things on all kinds of platforms. But I really need you all to understand that a like on tumblr does not count the way it does on Instagram or maybe even tiktok. That is a bookmark at best. Do I mind if you serial like an entire series of mine? Of course not, I am happy to see that someone is actively reading something of mind and enjoying it. But please have the courtesy to maybe comment on the masterlist or the most recent part.

Fandom is taking and giving and I think it is unfair that it is somehow is expected of writers to pump out story after story without having to give them something (comments, asks, reblogs) for it. And when someone complains about it, suddenly we are deemed as ungrateful to the few that actually read our stuff.  

Back in lockdown, there was more of a balance for obvious reasons. But now that I see that writers cannot post as much due to real life or maybe other reasons, it is like the number of notes has diminished across the board. Writers in fandom are people who are not (and cannot be) paid for their works. (Side note: If you accept fanfiction commissions or money for fanfiction, I will find you quicker than the mouse mafia because you will not ruin this for us.) On one hand, the expectation seems to be that writers should update ever single week without fail. On the other hand, it seems too big an ask of readers to actually comment/reblog the things that they read.

(Waiting for a new chapter for weeks, months, hell, even years, was never unusual in fandom spaces and I need this to be more common knowledge.)

Then again, the negativity in fandom has really fucking increased. It comes and goes in wavesand I will not pretend to be affected because I was so inactive this last year. (This is simply a side note but it is something that I think needs more attention: The way I see poc creators treated is despicable and while I do not write for PP characters anymore because of all the drama, people really need to reflect how they see Pedro Pascal as a human being instead of a sex object.)

For me, personally, I have noticed that if I get genuinely angry at something happening on tumblr, it is time for me to log off and really focus on real life and I think it is something that we all should take to heart. Sadly, the more time passes, the more I am convinced that this fandom might not even be worth it anymore and I genuinely understand many creators who decide to leave permanently. It often feels like people are just there to create drama or to vague or that important and serious posts about how we should treat each other and the actors we admire are simply ignored in favour of the “I don’t like drama.” line. Which, like, one is drama and one is not. (Spoiler alert: Discussions on fandom inclusion and racism within fandom are not drama.)

Anyway, Readers need to be more mindful of the power they have over writers and if you want to complain that so many creators have deactivated or become inactive, I would like to ask that you reflect on when was the last time that you commented on someone’s fic.

[a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5]

It’s a fanfic I’ll never finish or post but I did brainstorm/write the skeleton of dialogue and description for an Eddie fanfic where he had a pen pal (the reader) whilst he was in prison. They’ve got a semi-fucked relationship that’s got them bonded, two lonely people who need connection after horrible things happen.

Eddie is torn between trying to get his old life back with his wife and his girls, ignoring the person who kept him human during his time in prison, and moving on with the reader, admitting he’s lost everything through no fault of his own. He wants to move on with his life but he can’t let go and he can’t have both ways. Meanwhile the reader is trying desperately to make Eddie happy while he’s in prison and when he invites them to Chadder when he’s released to help him get back to real life. They want to be with Eddie but they know his baggage and don’t wanna force it yet they can’t keep holding back like this.

It’s basically a little daydream I wrote alongside watching the show lmaooo major slow burn and idk how to introduce any real romance cus they’re both so messed up.

I doubt I’ll ever do anything with it but it’s a brain worm I had and I know you’re sad we don’t have any other fics for him so I thought I’d share the idea

Your brain works in beautiful, angsty ways and I love it

I've also been sitting on something I want to turn into a full fic, but actually putting words to it is different

This ask as remained in my ask box for like three days and I've just been reading it over and over because I love the idea so much

I have no idea if anyone will care but spoilers under the cut just in case

I'm not even a big angst guy but the potential there is absolutely beautiful. Especially when you factor in that Eddie fully believed he had hurt Jim up until Riya brought the money to the lake. Living at home in a town that hates him after being released early is already clearly stressful as the series shows but then adding in a penpal that he has feelings for??? Having to choose between two things he really cares about??

I'm a bit advocate for nuance in relationships like these. I always want to write happy, ideal endings because that's what I enjoy and it makes me feel fulfilled to both write and read so, if it's not a problem to use this as inspo, dear Anon, I would definitely give it an "everybody wins but not everyone gets what they want and instead what they need" ending"

God there's just so many possibilities