#they’ll call it out during roll call

[emodennis]

i have a horrible feeling about my new job.

[honey-tongued-devil]

i Beg you i mean BEG YOU to do more chubby person x jinx or vi or something BECAUSE IM LITERALLY FATTT and i love the hcs

DROP ANOTHER ONE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙇🏽‍♀️

[Arcane preference] with a chubby s/o pt.2- cuddle time

The second request of the week. Honestly, as someone who isn't exactly slim, I write these headcanons for those who ask me but primarily for myself. Requests are open, as usual, I ask for your patience because English is not my first language. I'll leave you the link if you'd like to follow me on Bluesky (I'll be posting Arcane content there soon as well, i want to build a 'public' meanwhile).

| Tip jar |

Jayce:

- Starting with the fact that this man is built like a wardrobe, and his clothes are already pretty roomy, he’s started buying even bigger shirts just to make sure you can borrow them, they’ll be oversized on you, and you’ll be happy.

- So when you’re at home watching a movie or cuddling in bed, he strokes your belly with a smile, pretending to be surprised.

- “Is that my shirt?”

- This himbo, who handles a hammer that weighs as much as a horse, means no arguments when it comes to cuddles: you’re sitting in his lap.

- And when things get a bit heated, he’ll hoist you up with your knees on his shoulders, pressing you against the wall just to flex his strength and remind you that it’s absolutely no problem for him.

- After the dirty deeds, expect him to bring you something to eat (and especially drink) in bed, and don’t expect to be able to say no. 

Viktor:

- When you’re relaxing on the couch, it takes a moment to find a position that’s comfortable for both of you: usually, he sits upright with one leg stretched out, the other (his weaker one) draped over yours, and you either facing him or lying on your side with your head on his shoulder.

- The focus here isn’t on clothes, but blankets. They’re all queen-size, so the two of you can wrap yourselves up as comfortably as possible during cuddles without anyone getting cold.

- And when you stand up with one draped around you like a cape, he can’t help but chuckle and call you “Your Majesty.”

- As for clothes, you’d never think he’s clued in to your needs, but then you see the socks he buys for you both: to avoid any circulation issues, he only buys soft cotton and wool socks without elastic, so even at home, you always have cozy socks that match the season, like festive holiday ones.

- His secret move? Sliding his hands between your thighs when they’re cold, and playing with the little rolls there, pinching them when you’re cuddling.

- In your most intimate moments, he stops to kiss and nip at your thighs, leaving little constellations of marks that he traces over with his fingertips in the days that follow.

Ekko:

- Cuddle time is sacred.

- If he walks into the room and sees you sprawled comfortably on the bed waiting for him, a bomb alert goes off in his head: he shuts the door and runs to gather everything he might need.

- Water, snacks, extra blankets, anything he can think of.

- When he gets back and shuts the door behind him, he has a ridiculous grin on his face, warning you that he’s about to pounce with a playful growl, as if to show you just how much he wants to nibble you.

- Ekko is a huge fan of having your knees on his shoulders while you lie down, rubbing his cheek against your calf, and kissing it while you’re busy squirming.

- His favorite hobby? Getting his head caught between your thighs and becoming “deaf.”

- He’s always the big spoon because he has to protect you, hug you, and nestle his arms and hands into every soft spot.

- After any wild night, expect breakfast in bed and a hot bath waiting for you.

Vander:

- Zaun has a dreadful climate because the smog creates a thick layer of heat, but being underground and surrounded by cold materials, temperatures can drop sharply. So sometimes he shows up with a blanket, hands you a corner, and asks you to hold it for a moment.

- As soon as you take it, he calmly wraps it around you, picks you up, and carries you over to the fireplace, keeping you wrapped like a burrito on his lap while he enjoys his pipe for half an hour.

- Because of the cold, intimacy often happens right there in the living room, in front of the fire. Sometimes, he’ll give you the armchair and kneel in front of you, or you’ll both find yourselves on the rug.

- He’s a good lover, but don’t expect him to do much after expending all that energy at his age. On a good day, he’ll be a gentleman and carry you to bed; then it will your turn to cuddle and soothe him with gentle strokes as he enjoys them with his eyes closed.

- If it’s not a good day, he’ll pull the blanket over both of you and set the guard in front of the fire, resigning himself to the fact that you’ll be sleeping cuddled up either on the chair, the sofa, or even on the rug.

- In exchange, the next day, he’ll make it up to you with a long, hot bath and a massage.

Silco:

- This man has money, and he knows how to use it well.

- When the cold sets in Zaun, your bedroom becomes a place you’d never want to leave. Fur rugs are laid out on either side of the bed, soft, warm robes in matching colors appear in the closet, and if you want to stay in your den waiting for him while he works without freezing, you can even light the in-room fireplace.

- After he finishes his work, he washes up, dons his robe, and heads straight to bed, sometimes he doesn't even waiting, and begins going over his paperwork under the blankets while he absently strokes your shoulder or hair.

- If you complain enough, he’ll carefully gather up the papers, set them aside, and hover over you to kiss your neck and collarbones, sliding your robe aside so his lean, wiry body can press against yours.

- He’s incredibly gentle in everything he does, from how he touches to how he kisses or nibbles. Every movement makes you shiver, but he remains composed. Occasionally, between kisses, the cold tip of his nose brushes your skin, making you giggle; he then returns to your lips, asking for forgiveness before continuing his slow exploration.

- He’s the type for wine and a cozy dinner under the covers, a break for cuddles, and then back to work.

- If you protest that you’re eating too much, he’ll feed you himself—no time for nonsense (but always with a touch of tenderness).

Jinx:

- The most chaotic thing Jinx does is cross out or draw over posters that show people who are too skinny. They can’t make you insecure if you don’t see them, and any excuse for vandalism is a good one.

- With the cold setting in, her hideout transforms into a true nest: a heap of clothes and fabrics covered in blankets and throws to make everything softer and warmer.

- Jinx has cold feet, but it’s not her problem—it’s yours. She’ll press them against your stomach, your back, and if you react, it’ll only get worse.

- She’ll start laughing, and it’ll become personal. The only way to fight back is with tickling, but that would be a declaration of war.

- When you both finally calm down, she’ll wrap herself around you, clinging with her whole body, inhaling your scent deeply, and digging her fingers into your side.

- Don’t expect too much delicacy in intimate moments; if she needs you to move, she’ll grab and pull you into whatever position is most comfortable for her. She holds your legs up, and handles you like you’re her personal doll.

- For her, this is princess treatment; and the effort she’s putting in is what counts.

Vi:

- She buries her face in your chest, first and foremost. Feeling sad? Face in your chest. Happy? Face in your chest. Deep in thought? You guessed it—face in your chest.

- Her go-to stress reliever is squeezing your thighs and hips.

- During cuddles, she rests your head on her shoulder, strokes your back, kisses your forehead, and speaks softly.

- She always plays with your hair, and if it’s long enough, you’ll find small braids everywhere.

- When you’re cuddling in bed, she’ll either hold you close or be the little spoon herself, with one hand in yours and fingers intertwined.

- When things get more intimate, she becomes completely dependent on you, pressing her fingers so deeply into your skin that they leave marks, as if even that isn’t enough and she wants to be inside you, to reach into your very core.

- She never imposes anything; if you don’t feel like washing up, she’ll clean you up with a warm cloth, and if you don’t feel like getting up, she’ll carry you. Whatever you want, she’ll go along with it unconditionally.

- Occasionally, she’ll climb over you, propping herself on her arms, just to steal a flurry of kisses.

Caitlyn:

- Caitlyn can cook, and she will.

- Her way of cuddling starts at the table, with an evening set up like a royal banquet. Anything you like will be there, along with sweet and savory snacks, which, if there are leftovers, she’ll take to the coffee table or the bedroom so you can enjoy them later.

- There’s no rush; if you want to go for a walk or relax after eating, it’s fine by her—she just wants to be with you. She might ask a housekeeper for a bit of help, or she’ll clean up on her own while you get ready.

- If you lie down in bed, she’ll absolutely take the chance to gently knead your stomach like a cat, making you laugh but also helping you fall asleep rather quickly.

- She’s the ultimate big spoon, nestling her face into the crook of your neck and holding you tightly.

- When things get more intimate, she loves to look you in the eyes while she touches you, so she can savor every reaction, every shiver, watching your body melt with every move she makes.

- She becomes mesmerized by the way your body ripples under her touch, like there’s an ocean beneath your skin.

Mel:

- The real issue with Mel is that the rich never have anything better to do, so morning, noon, and night, they’re constantly organizing events. Breakfast at a noble’s home, brunch with the councilors, and of course, everyone must dine together. Tea at five with the Kirammans is absolutely sacred, and dinner is a moment for sharing ideas.

- Intimacy is this strange, almost absurd thing, as though everything is designed to give you no second of solitude.

- But when she does find a moment, she sits down and signals you to come into her lap or rest against her, cuddling you, playing with your earlobes, and winding her fingers through your hair until your eyes cross.

- She prefers giving affection to receiving it, simply because it feels like the only way she truly knows how to show love.

- Only in the deepest intimacy does she allow herself to do less, to enjoy your presence lying with her, to let go of control.

- She adores the way your body moves artistically, like it follows lines painted in oil, and these are the few moments where she can fully admire you.

- She’s quite strict afterward. You must drink those two glasses of water, and as you get up, she’ll call for someone to change the sheets and make the bed, so by the time you’re done showering, everything is ready and perfect.

Sevika:

- Bluntly put? She works with the chem barons, who are mostly old, misogynistic men with monocles embedded in their skulls, grotesquely altered rats with spider-like mechanical limbs, a very interesting gang of women in latex with disturbing port attachments, people with mechanical noses that pump in toxic stuff directly, and other highly modified, not-so-pleasant characters.

- I mean, sure, you have every right to feel insecure, but when she tells you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her, she’s being quite literal.

- Her delight in the fact that not only are you entirely flesh and blood but actually soft flesh is beyond words—she feels like she’s hit the jackpot with a premium relationship.

- There’s hardly a moment when she’s not touching you, holding your arms or cheeks in her hands, or kissing your skin.

- During cuddles, she prefers you on top of her, and if she’s calm and has enough time, she’ll even remove her arm.

- It’s a controversial choice, but she doesn’t want to be around you while wearing a weapon, and she doesn’t want you to see her the way she sees the chem barons. It’s almost a moral decision on her part.

- In bed, she can hold you easily with just one arm; she’s strong, it’s not an issue for her. But first and foremost, she wants to lie down with you, feel your soft arms, your chest, your waist where she can let herself sink in, and when you laugh because she’s tickling you, she kisses you.

- For her, the hardest part isn’t functioning with one less limb but letting herself appear calm, not on the defensive, even vulnerable.

- But she doesn’t regret it for a single second.

[g0dlyunsub]

it takes two.

spencer deals with a lot on the field, but nothing can prepare him for when he’s stuck inside a locker with you.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: 18+ due to sexual themes but no smut, slight claustrophobia triggers

word count :: 2.2k

author’s note :: inspired by a scene from s9e23, i'm imagining spencer in a fitted collared shirt and tie, reader wears a skirt

accompanying song :: stuck between by dutch criminal record

“nothing’s showing up on vicap. i’ve cross-checked records against everything you’ve mentioned, sir, but there’s literally nothing. zilch,” you hear garcia let out an exasperated groan as she ferociously taps at her keyboard. 

you watch as hotch kneads the skin between his brows with growing impatience while morgan starts to pace around the room. you’re not doing any better yourself, your stressed-out fingers threatening to tug at the strands of hair neatly holding your ponytail together. 

it’s too frustrating. the leads are clearly there, but your team is lacking the final puzzle piece to complete the profile, to confirm that it’s someone in the department that’s deliberately injecting themselves into the investigation.

“your answer is probably written down on paper. ugh, i hate when bad guys try to act all smart,” garcia fumes, and sulks as she gives an apologetic wave from her side of the screen. hotch nods, relays a thank you, and cuts the call before rounding the whole team together.

“think about it, those two are the perfect scapegoats. all of these agents have everything to lose, so why not just blame them? they’ve been in and out of cells already, and it makes perfect sense to craft a narrative that’ll point fingers at them,” morgan starts, making small gestures as he speaks with his signature cadence, topped with a honeyed rasp.

“and they’ve got all the authority to influence the public’s opinion,” jj nods in agreement.

“we need to try to get those two to talk again, but we also have to take extra precautions. jj and prentiss, go interview them one more time to see if they’ll spill any names. morgan, i need you to work with garcia to look for other possible leads. reid and l/n, go to the records room to review the files of the agents working with us. dave and i will try to hold down the fort,” hotch instructs, nodding at each of you as he rolls out the orders. 

“and try not to draw suspicion. if all else fails, say that you need to run to the bathroom,” rossi adds with a wink. it always amazes you how calm the italian agent is during such high-pressure situations, a trait you’ve grown to immensely appreciate.

“shall we?” you say as you nudge spencer, and he hums back in response. you bid a wish of good luck to emily and jj and traverse the hallway to the records room with the doctor, your heels clacking beside the cushioned steps of his slightly worn converses. 

after looking left and right to make sure no one’s around, spencer opens the door. you silence the sounds of your heels as you follow inside, and let the bolt of the lock plunge into the frame by slowly closing the door. 

“alright, you take the left, i’ll take the right,” you whisper, and spencer gives you a thumbs up. 

the two of you work silently and as fast as possible, sifting through the piles of records that lie on the tables and beside the cabinets. you feel your heart jump into a cartwheel every time a sheet of paper slips out of the manila folders, the sounds of rustling and creasing setting you on edge. 

“i found mcgregor and drew, but i don’t think it’s either of them,” spencer declares with a voice that isn’t supposed to sound loud at all, but it feels hundreds of decibels higher than the bare whisper you spoke with earlier. 

“okay, i found weaver and lee, but they don’t fit the profile either. let’s continue looking for the other two,” you call back. 

spencer walks over to you and kneels beside your left to help you with your search. once you spread the folders on the floor, you spot one of the two remaining files, and spencer soon finds the other. you’re about to turn through the sheets in the folder when the doorknob starts to shake, startling the both of you.

“shit. spence,” you blurt as spencer takes his file in one hand and grabs yours with the other, and shoves them into an open drawer. after he slides the compartment back with his careful and nimble fingers, you grab his arm and squeeze into a spare locker. you barely manage to seal the opening shut in time.

you could say that it was quick thinking that saved your and spencer’s cover, since the door jiggles and thrusts open a mere second later.

you never would’ve imagined that the day would come when you would draw air directly from spencer’s breaths, let alone enclose yourself in the same room as him. 

and yet here you are, perched on top of spencer’s knee, the scratchy fabric of his trousers resting under the hollow space of your pencil skirt and between your legs. his other leg presses against your side of the wall with an uncomfortable bend, while his chin sits an atom’s width from your forehead.

it’s a nonnegotiable consequence that comes with his tall figure, the way his clothed knee has to rub against your inner thighs under the draped fabric.

one of your hands lies awkwardly on his chest while the other is on his thigh, right above the knee that’s using you for leverage. your attention immediately shifts to your left when you see the rays of the intruder’s flashlight scope through the room. 

you stop mid-exhale when the light pours through the gaps of the locker, casting shadows on spencer’s face and your body. he looks stressed, anxiously wetting his lips with closed eyes, face turned away from you.

and he looks overwhelmed. rapid bursts of inhales and exhales fire from his body, likely due to the collar of his shirt being bound tightly around his neck with the tie. with shaking fingers, you slowly reach for his tie, waiting for approval to loosen it. 

you feel his forehead bury into the cave of your shoulder, and he whispers his desperate ask into your ear: “please.”

despite the lack of light around you, you’re able to locate the small end of his satin tie, and you tug lightly. the knot unfurls as you pull, and spencer lets out a small sigh of relief before breathing a low thank you in your ear.

as this happens, you hear the intruder surf through the piles of papers, unlocking drawers and lifting boxes left and right. hurry, hurry, hurry, you pray desperately in your head. beads of sweat start to form at your temple and threaten to fall down to your exposed neck, which happens to be situated directly in spencer’s line of sight.

“come on,” you hear the guest in the room complain, angrily flipping through papers and slamming the cabinets. you think it’s finally time for him to leave when you hear the high-pitched ring of his phone. 

but your eyes widen when instead of heading to the door, he makes strides towards the locker right across from yours, and leans his back against it before holding the phone up to his ear. holy shit.

“jensen speaking,” he says with a gruff voice, and plays with the button of his flashlight so it turns on and off spontaneously. as the light flickers, it dimly shines the space inside your locker. 

spencer turns his head to meet your eyes, a panicked expression covering his face. you’re about to mouth a small sorry for the helpless situation you’ve dragged him into, but just as you’re about to do so, spencer’s trousers slide against your legs, creating friction so unbearable that you let out a squeak. 

you freeze, looking up to see spencer’s eyes flash warningly. he instantly clasps your mouth with his hands to cover any further sound from escaping your lips, but with no form of support to maintain his position, he starts to slip, and his shirt lightly skids against the locker’s slippery walls. this is somehow even worse for you, because spencer’s knee starts to dig further up your legs and into your cotton underwear, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

luckily for the both of you, jensen seems to be distracted by whatever words are being spewed from the other end of his phone call to pay any mind to your suppressed yelps. 

“i think their agents might be on to us,” he scowls, and you watch from the corner of your eye as he tosses the last of his files into a box and opens the adjacent locker to ram it inside.  

“yeah, i’ll try to stall them for as long as i can. they don’t know what they’re getting themselves into.” 

jensen curses and promptly ends the call, returning his phone into the pocket of his shirt. he finally walks to the door, sighing as he twists the knob and steps out. the two of you lie in wait for an additional three minutes before trying anything. 

“i think we’re good,” spencer huffs, finally opening the locker door with a thud as the sounds of steel clashing against steel echo throughout the air. 

“yeah,” you nod, taking a breath to collect yourself as you step out. you watch as spencer runs a hand through his hair and moves his fingers down to adjust his tie. 

he returns the stare, his adam’s apple bobbing when he eyes your wrinkled shirt and scrunched up pencil skirt – which looks more like a mini-skirt with how it sits right below your hips.

“i um, i need some air. how about you?” spencer asks at last, clearing his throat. you bite your lip when he starts to brush the dust off his thighs and knees, the moments of earlier flooding into the back of your mind like the warmth pooling between your thighs.

“yeah, i could use some fresh air too,” you respond breathily, averting your eyes and focusing instead on smoothing out your shirt and retying your loosened ponytail. when you’re done, you turn around and stagger to the door, not looking twice to see if spencer’s following you. an intense flush spreads across your cheeks, and your only viable path of escape is to the bathroom.

“you, um, missed a spot,” you hear from behind, and you follow spencer’s gaze to see that he’s referring to the back of your skirt.

“oh,” you say as embarrassment swamps you, and you hurriedly pat at the fabric. “does that look better?”

“it’s still folded there. if you want, i can- may i?” 

the question tumbles from his pretty lips and messes with your head. his hand hovers right around your waist, the same way yours lingered on his tie as you waited for his consent. and his softening eyes. his slightly smoldering gaze looks so innocent and alluring at the same time, your heart starts to feel heavy with the weight of desire. 

note to self: never wear a pencil skirt again.

“please,” you utter like a silent prayer, and mentally prepare yourself to endure the test of his fingers against your skin.

as soon as he receives your word, his hand lightly brushes against your thigh and trails down your skin. he takes the hem of your skirt and pulls down, giving several tugs before releasing the stretched garment. 

he clears his throat when you don’t move even after he’s retracted his hand.

“all good now.” 

spencer’s words drown out your thoughts and snap you back to reality. he’s already standing by the door, holding it open for you with a patient smile.

“thanks,” you say as you walk out and rub your hands together, nervous for what you’re about to say next. “spencer, um, i’m so sorry about that whole ordeal, it was really unprofessional of me to drag you in there, i wasn’t thinking when i-”

“you did the right thing,” spencer interrupts your ramble with the shake of his head, and his flawless smile pulls at your heartstrings.

“i would’ve pushed you in there if you hadn't. that door’s the only way in and out if you don’t count the windows,” he continues, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walks you to the elevator.

“oh,” you shyly murmur back, your cheeks flushing with a shade of bright pink as his words pour over you like warm water. he would’ve pushed you in there if you hadn’t?

“yeah, but how about we try a bigger locker next time?” spencer almost reads your mind as he half-mindedly jokes, causing you to drop your jaw in shock. he doesn’t acknowledge your reaction, however, because he starts to dial rossi’s number on his cell.

“by the way, the uh, new look suits you. the grey skirt and all,” spencer says with a lopsided smile before he raises a hand to excuse himself and call rossi. you’re saved the embarrassment of responding when rossi accepts the call, but your palms are already profusely sweating at his compliment.

note to self: maybe wear the pencil skirt again.

[annabelinlove]

No Games

Pairing: Wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: You were injured by some Slytherins and the boys worry for you.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: angst, description of violence, language, Snape is a dick, English isn’t my first language, Peter doesn’t exist in this, lmk if I missed any

Being a muggle born never really bothered you. You loved your parents, and you were glad for the childhood you had. They were really surprised when you had gotten your letter but were supportive nevertheless. They didn’t understand your new world and even though they were happy for you, they never cared to learn more about it. Part of you was bothered about it, because living in two different worlds, yet still trying to communicate, was hard. You drifted apart and whenever you visited during the breaks, they never wanted to hear about your school year or the magical world. It was usually awkward and uncomfortable, but you still loved them dearly and knew they loved you. You weren’t ashamed of your parents and defended them any chance you got.

Your first year was pretty hard. Not only were you getting used to this whole new world you were suddenly thrown into, but you’ve also learned the hard way, that being a muggle born was viewed as a bad thing. Being called worthless, stain on the wizarding world and mudblood were suddenly a daily occurrence. Thankfully, being sorted into Gryffindor led you to meet some amazing people and become best friends with Lily Evans. You tried to get through it together and it was suddenly much easier to have someone who understood you. You’ve befriended the Marauders as well and since the start of the second year, you were inseparable. Lily had some apprehension at the beginning, since James Potter was an ‘arrogant toerag’ in her words, but you’ve helped her realize, that there was much more then mischief in the boys. It didn’t take long for you to develop feelings for two of the troublemakers. There was just something about Sirius Black and Remus Lupin that made you fall, and you fell hard. You still remembered the conversation with Lily, where you revealed your feeling by accident. It was soon after Sirius and Remus started dating.

“I don’t get how the two of them could be together! Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy for them and I hope they’ll be happy but they’re just... they’re so different!” Lily told you drunkenly at one of the famous Gryffindor parties, looking at the couple snogging in the middle of the made-up dance floor.

“And that’s the beauty of it, you know? When Sirius is hotheaded, Remus is there to calm him down and where Remus is reserved, Sirius helps him get out of his shelf. They’re two sides of the same coin,” you defended them fiercely. Seeing them like that made you so happy, but the darker side of you was jealous, wishing you could be part of it.

“I kinda wish a coin had three sides, you know? Can you imagine how amazing that would be?” You said without thinking, gaze fixed on the two boys. Lily shot you a confused look.

“A coin with three sides? How would that even look? And what kind of shape would it have to have? Why would you want a three-sided coin?” Her confusion was not only in her eyes, but you could also detect it in her voice as well. You just rolled your eyes at her oblivion.

“I don’t want a three-sided coin Lily, I wanna be part of their relationship. How you’re on top of every class, I have no idea.”

The memory always made you smile. And your wish came true. Not long after your conversation with Lily, even though it felt like years for you, you became a part of the relationship. It was quite complicated at the beginning, you were no stranger to dating, but dating not only two boys but two Golden boys of Hogwarts was no easy task. But you’ve happily settled and after some long conversations, when you all tried to figure out, you were as happy as you could ever be.

Your sixth year was however when things turned complicated once again. The war raging outside the walls of the castle was taking a tool on you. You were constantly worried about the safety of your family as well as your own. It was no secret that you had muggle parents, which made you a target at the school as well. Every time you saw some Slytherins, mostly Snape with Malfoy and Mulciber, you were called names and even hexed multiple times. But it wasn’t only you, every muggle born was treated like that, which didn’t make it better, yet it seemed like you were the biggest target, wether it was because of your connection and close friendship with the Marauders, the constant pranks you pulled on them or the fact, that you always fought back and never let them get away with it. You had many serious talks with Lily about this topic. She tried to tell you to take it easy and ignore them like she did, and they’d get bored of it soon. You never had the heart to tell her, that the reason the boys didn’t target her as much was because Severus still had feelings for her, even after their falling-out, and threatened other Slytherins to take it easy on her.

“Why did you do that?” Lily asked you as you laid on your bed with a pack of ice on your face that still stung from the hex they threw at you.

“You mean why did I turned them into snakes? Because that’s what they fucking are Lily. I can’t juste let them call me names and walk away. Plus, they started it,” you said tiredly, the headache making you nauseous.

“But you could! If you had just ignored them, you wouldn’t have been hurt and in detention” she tried once again “that’s what I do, just walk away. So what if the call us mudbloods, its not like its harmful anymore.”

“But its not about the name calling. They’re fucking death eaters and acting like they’re better than us, but they’re not! It’s about the principle. You can’t do something bad and not get punished for it.” The conversation was almost identical to the one you’ve had many times in the past.

“Well, at least you’ve answered your question why you have to go to detention for the following week,” Lily sighed and went to change you ice pack.

The boys tried their best to protect you, they always made sure that at least one of them was with you. Wether it was in library with Remus, quidditch with James, the kitchen with Sirius or at least one of them walking you to every class and the Great Hall. They never talked to you about it, but you knew what they were doing, and the thoughtfulness warmed your heart. But they couldn’t be with you every second of the day no matter how much you wanted them to or how much they tried. That’s how you found yourself walking to your common room late at night after another detention with McGonagall.

“I’m sorry, you did what?!” Remus shrieked, staring at you in disbelief.

“I set Snivellus on fire. I mean, just his robes,” you mumbled sheepishly. Your boyfriends stared at you with mixed amazement and incredulity. James bursted into laughter.

“How come we never thought of that?” He said between laughter.

“Pff, don’t encourage her Prongs or she’ll think it was a good idea and will do something analogously stupid.” Your scarred boyfriend scoffed, but the corner of his mouth twitching.

“And what was I supposed to do? Let him torture the poor second year and just walk away?” You tried to defend your actions, slowly getting worked up.

“That’s not what he meant, pet. We just want you to be careful. Moony means well, he’s scared, just like the rest of us. They’re getting bolder and bolder. We’re proud of you for defending the kid, aren’t we, Moons?” Sirius finally joined the conversation, trying to calm you all down. He pulled you into his arms, kissing your head. Remus sighed and took your face into his hands, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Of course I’m proud, you're our brave girl, darling. Just don’t wanna see you hurt.” And with those words he kissed you deeply.

Walking down the dark and empty corridor, you tried not to think about the sickening smell you’ve been inhaling for the least couple of hours. Professor McGonagall made you wash one of the dirty bathrooms without magic as your punishment. You were disgusted with the Hogwarts students and the mess they could make. So lost in your own head, you didn’t even hear the steps of people behind you. Not until it was too late anyway.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” Said the voice behind you that belonged to no other then Severus Snape. Before you could even pull out your wand, it flew out of your hands with a simple Expelliarmus from Mulciber, whom you just noticed standing behind Snape.

“I’m not in a mood for your games Snivellus,” you snapped at him, already tired from the day you had.

“Oh, trust me, this is no game,” he threatened, smiling at you maliciously. You wanted to punch him so hard.

“What are you even doing here, aren’t you supposed to be at the infirmary? Those burns looked pretty nasty earlier.” His smile disappeared and something much more dangerous appeaed on his face.

“You’re gonna pay for that, you stupid bitch,” he sneered at you. Your fight or flight instincts kicked in and you moved to him with the intention to rip his head off his body. But before you could take more than few steps, he hit you with a Petrificus Totalus spell. You tried to mask your panic when you realized you could possibly be in an immense danger without your wand and the ability to move with two deatheaters, who loathed you. The grin Snape and Mulciber gave you was a sign of how much of a shit job you did to hide your emotions.

“Not so brave now, are you, mudblood?” Mulciber gave you a sickening smirk. You could see nothing but madness in his eyes. They started to circle around you, eyeing you like predators wanting to hurt their prey. You watched them carefully, waiting for their next move.

“Not in a mood for games, did you say? What a shame because I’m ready to play,” said Mulciber before casting a Flipendo and suddenly, you were upside down, your head hitting the floor. You wanted to do something, protect yourself, scream for help, but you were powerless, unable to do any of the things you wanted to.

“I feel like it’d be much more fun if she didn’t see us, don’t you agree?” He asked Severus who chuckled and nodded.

“For once, I must agree with you. Obscurs!” And all of a sudden you were blindfold, your panic rising. You had no idea what they had planned for you, but were sure it was nothing pleasant. Everything went pretty hazy after they hit you with the Confundus charm. The two deatheaters were taking turns hexing you. They made you slowly bleed and ache, but they haven’t done anything terrible to really harm you, which somehow made you even more nervous. They were slowly becoming more and more harmful with their hexes, causing you more pain. Until they grew bored of the wand work. You were thrown on the floor, all spells lifted from you, and you thought it was finally over before you were harshly kicked into the stomach. You could hear them laughing as they continued to hit you and kick you around the cold floor. They’ve caused you more then enough harm. You were bleeding from various places and was more than sure that you had a few broken bones as well as a concussion from them throwing you around like a ragdoll. Your foggy brain couldn’t comprehend all that was happening. Both of them suddenly stopped and quietned down as you tried to crawl away from them. The silence was broken with a shout.

“Crucio!” Yelled one of the boys. You couldn’t care less which one, as you were hit with an immense pain. You were on the floor, whirling in pain. You trashed on the ground, somehow in hopes off gettin rid of the pain, but all in vain. You tried to let out a scream, but you weren’t sure if you did because you couldn’t hear anything but their laughter. The curse was lifted and you sucked a breath of air into your lungs, or at least you tried to. You didn’t have time to even move before they’ve casted the curse again. And again and again. You felt like your insides were being twisted and ripped out of you. At that point, you just wanted them to kill you. You didn’t know how much time has passed, before Snape leaned over you.

“You’ll learn where your place is. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as we do, mugblood. Let this be your lesson. Hopefully one you’ll remember until your pathetic life ends. Which may not be that long, now that I think about it.” You didn’t even notice that the curse wasn’t on you anymore. You couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t do anything then whisper a pathetic please, hoping your suffering would end soon. He just smirked at you and looked like he wanted to say something else, but Mulciber beat him to it, shouting Crucio once again. There was nothing you could do than just to take it while begging them to stop. You were slipping into unconsciousness, the pain being too much. You couldn’t even tell the difference between being under the curse and not because all you could feel was agony. You thought you heard someone shouting, but it may have just been a hallucination. Opening your eyes, you could make out a silhouette of someone else coming and you were praying to Merlin it wasn’t Malfoy wanting to join in on all the ‘fun’. To your surprise you saw, or at least thought you did, Snape and Mulciber running away, but not before the last curse Snape sent your way. Sectumsempra were the last words of Severus Snape, before he took of, disappearing in the darkness. You realized; you didn’t know pain until now. Your body was on fire and instead of drawing in a breath, you coughed out blood.

“Hey, hey, can you hear me?” Somebody was leaning over you, but you couldn’t make out who it was.

“It’s okay now, please just try to breathe. You’re safe, you’re safe.” Those were the last words before the darkness took over you.

“Lay her here, carefully! And quickly, sent for Dumbledore!”

“I don’t know what to do, I’ve never dealt with something like this.”

“Just hold on, it’s gonna be okay.”

“What the fuck happened?!” “You can’t be here right now, mister Black.”

“This is gonna hurt, dear. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re safe now, my love. I’m never gonna let anything like that happen to you. I swear on my life.”

“What the hell do you mean, they’re not gonna be punished?!” “We are not discussing this topic with you, mister Lupin.” “They can’t just walk away, have you seen what they’ve done to her? She’s fucking dying!” “Enough Remus, please.”

“Please, wake up. I know it’s selfish of me to ask this, considering everything that happened, but please, I really need you to wake up.”

You kept slipping in an out of consciousness, hearing bits and peaces of the conversations happening around you, but the darkness has always won and took you under.

The first thing you felt was something wet on your hand. You tried to open your eyes, but even such easy task seemed like something impossible. You tried to move, but it was like you were under the binding curse all over again. After much effort, you were able to open your eyes very slowly. The bright light made you blink a couple of times, but you were able to recognize your surroundings. The hospital wing. You wanted to sit up, but the pain suddenly consumed you like a tsunami, and a groan tore itself out of your throat.

“You’re awake!” Said a quiet voice. Your eyes met Lily’s beautiful green ones. Tears rolled down her cheeks and the realization that you’ve felt her tears on your hand hit you. You tried to open your mouth to say something, but your throat felt like sandpaper and nothing came out.

“Shh, don’t say anything, its okay. Here, try to drink some water instead.” She handed you a cool glass of water, but you were unable to sit up and drink. When she noticed, more tears welled up in her eyes and she softly squeezed your hand and with the words, that she’ll be back soon left you alone and disappeared behind the white curtains around your bed. You didn’t know how much time passed with you just looking at the ceiling, but Madam Pomfrey was suddenly by your side with some other woman in white.

“This is nurse Bimley, we’re just gonna do a quick check, okay?” She asked and both her and the nurse started to examine you and move you around. They asked you some questions, but you didn’t really pay attention, your mind tired to function properly. With their hands on you and calming words, you fell into the darkness.

Opening you eyes the second time was easier and even adjusting to the light was quicker. You found yourself half sitting, half laying on the hospital bed. Did they move you again? How long has it been since I last woke up? Why am I even here?

“Hey.” Whispered a voice beside you, interrupting your train of thoughts. You looked at the boy sitting on a very uncomfortable looking chair next to your bed. You’d recognize his stormy eyes everywhere, but the ever-present spark in them seemed to disappear, worry replacing it. Your hand was squeezed and you looked on your other side, seeing a scarred hand placed in yours. You felt somewhat calmer knowing that your boyfriends were with you.

“Here, drink this.” Remus lifted a glass of some murky liquid to your mouth waited patiently for you to drink the whole thing and you did even though it tasted like shit. He placed the, now empty, glass on the table, avoiding eye contact the whole time, contrary to your other boyfriend. You were all quiet for a while, just studying each other before Sirius broke the silence.

“How are you feeling, love?” You wanted to answer, but instead of words, you started to cough. To your horror you’ve realized droplets of blood came out of your throat, and Sirius was quick to hold a small bucket near your mouth.

“Shh, its okay darling. Just let it out. It’s okay.” Remus tried to soothe you, suddenly standing next to you. He looked like he wanted to place his hand on your back, but for a reason unknown to you, he decided against it. After your coughing fit, you closed your eyes and tried to properly breathe, which suddenly seemed like almost impossible task. When you calmed down a bit and looked up, you saw Sirius’s eyes pooling with unshed tears. He tried to smile at you reassuringly, but it felt fake.

“We should get madame Pomfrey,” Remus murmured, the words aimed to Sirius who slowly nodded, but before any of them could move, you croaked barely audible no. Your voice sounded like nails on chalkboard, and you cringed before starting to cough again. Sirius held up the bucket again while Remus spoke.

“Okay, okay. We won’t call anyone just yet. Just try to breathe for us darling.” And you did what he told you. He sat on the chair again. After you stopped coughing, you tried to speak once again.

“What..” but before you could finish your sentence, Sirius gently shushed you. “Don’t speak, my love. You need to rest and talking just makes it worse.” You nodded at his words, resting your head on the pillow behind you.

“Do you remember what happened, angel?” Remus asked you carefully to which you just shook your head. You didn’t remember anything; you mind still not working properly. The only thing you knew was that you were in terrible pain. Remus sighed before continuing.

“You were attacked darling. When you were walking from detention, some Slytherin cornered you and..” his voice broke, not being able to finish his sentence. Thankfully, Sirius took over.

“They did horrible, horrible things to you, angel. They didn’t tell us exactly what happened, but it almost killed you.” His voice was barely above a whisper at the end, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It almost killed you kept on replaying in your head over and over again as you started to remember bits and pieces. Their laughter, their hexes and curses, the pain. You didn’t even realize you started shaking before Sirius gently laid his hand on your cheek.

“Hey, hey, baby listen to me, you’re safe now. It’s over and you’re safe, do you hear me? We’re never gonna let anything like that happen to you again, okay? You’re safe with us. I promise.” He tried to calm you but you didn’t register his words as you kept on remembering everything. It felt like you were in a trance, not being able to do anything beside cry and shake, ugly sobs tearing out of your throat. You didn’t even realize that Remus quickly left your side to get Poppy to help you. To you, she appeared out of nowhere, suddenly by your side.

“I told you to get me when she wakes up, mainly to prevent something like this from happening. Now leave us alone and get professor McGonagall.” Both of your boyfriends left rather quickly without a word but sending you a sorry look. You really didn’t want them to leave but were unable to voice you thoughts through the sobbing. The sweet nurse got you to calm down after a while of sweet talk and reassurance that you were safe.

“Let me check the injuries, okay?” She asked but already started to take off your hospital robe that you didn’t even notice you were wearing. Underneath your whole body was bandaged, some of the bandages red from the blood seeping through them, you could see black and blue bruises where your skin was showing and you felt like you were going to be sick. Madam Pomfrey, thankfully, saw that coming and quickly brought a bucket to your mouth, the same that Sirius gave you earlier, and you puked your guts out, all that while she whispered calming words to you. When you were done, you closed your eyes and let the nurse rewrap your wounds after rubbing some ointment on them. The second she was done, professor McGonagall came into sight with Dumbledore on her heels, it was like they scented they could come.

“Good evening miss Y/S. How are you feeling?” He asked you politely, his eyes searching yours. You shrugged your shoulders, not trusting yourself to talk just yet.

“Do you remember what happened?” He asked you again to which you just nodded your head, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“I know its hard, but would you be able to tell us what happened?” You dreaded this question, but took a deep breath before finally answering verbally. You vaguely told them the events of that night. I don’t even know how long I was asleep ran through your head, but you pushed it aside and continued talking. About how they cornered you, taking your want and hexing you. How they grew tired of it after a while and decided to beat you up. How they used one of the Unforgivables on you before someone came to your rescue. How they ran but not before sending some unknown spell in your way. By the end, you were silently crying once again.

“Thank you, dear. You should rest now. Don’t worry about anything else. I’ll come and talk to you when you feel better.” Professor McGonagall thanked you and you heard in her voice how sorry she felt for you. You sent a smile her way, or at least tried to, before they left you again.

“You should really rest now. I’ve put some sleeping and calming draught next to your bed, if you want it.” Madame Pomfrey decided and went to leave you alone before you stopped her.

“May I speak to Remus and Sirius please?” You pleaded with her before adding “it’d make me feel much more at ease.” To which the nurse nodded before disappearing behind the curtain, hopefully snatching the boys. And soon enough, Remus’s head poked from behind the curtain, smiling at you soflty.

“Hi there, darling. James and Lily are here to see you, if you feel like it. If not, that’s completely okay and they understand. Anything to make you comfortable.” You smiled at his thoughtfulness, and you considered it for a second. You didn’t want your friends to see you in such state but you knew that seeing them would make you feel better so you nodded. Soon enough, around your bed were the four most important people of your life. You gently smiled at them, feeling calmer already. Remus carefully sat on your bed, Sirius in the chair next to him with Lily in the chair and James standing next to her on your other side.

“Hi.” you said timidly. Lily almost started to cry when she heard your voice and James laid a protective hand or her shoulder, smiling gently at you.

“Hello there, sunshine.” He responded just as gently.

“Are you feeling any better?” Remus asked you carefully, not wanting to make you cry again or overall worsen your state. You didn’t know whether to say yes or no so you just shrugged.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. We were all so worried.” Lily whispered, looking deep into your eyes. A flashback of her crying when you woke up suddenly popped up in your mind.

“You were here, before I mean.” You realized, looking at her.

“We were all here at some point. You kept on waking up and falling asleep the whole time you were here.” She looked like she wanted to add something, but her quiet sobs prevented it.

“Yeah, you’ve been here for two days. We sneaked in whenever we could. Sometimes you woke up and started babbling some nonsense, sometimes you just screamed. Do you remember any of that?” James added and that’s when you noticed the dark circles under all of their eyes. You felt bad for making them so worried.

“No. I mean, I remember some of it, but it’s all blurry. I remember some other woman tho, I think she was a nurse.” You tried to fish for your memories, but nothing else came to the surface.

“That was nurse Bimley, she came from St. Mungo’s after Dumbledore sent for someone to help you.” Lily explained, now more composed, but it left you even more confused.

“Why? What happened?” You decided to ask, wanting to hear their side of the story. They all looked at each other in apprehension, apart from Sirius, who was uncharacteristically quiet and avoiding eye contact, before Remus decided to put you out of your misery and explain.

“When you didn’t come from your detention, we started to worry. The more time passed, the more terrified we were. James tried to look for the map, but we’ve put it somewhere and none of us were able to find it. We kept on telling ourselves that you were fine, and that Minnie was just making you work extra hard, so we didn’t go to search for you. Something that I’ll never forgive myself for and I’m terribly sorry for it, love.” He took your hand into his and softly squeezed before continuing. “Then some Gryffindor prefect bursted into the command room, ordering everyone to go to bed, that there was an attack on a student, and we weren’t to leave our dorms. I felt my soul leave my body at his words, I swear. We didn’t even take the cloak, we just ran straight to the infirmary. There, we saw...” but before he could continue, Sirius interrupted him, his eyes unfocused as if he was remembering the night.

“It was Reggie. He found you and took you straight to Madam Pomfrey. He saved your life. We found him sitting on the floor, looking like he might pass out or puke. When he spotted us, he quickly started to explain how he didn’t have anything to do with it, how he wasn’t part of it and just tried to help you. I was so confused at that minute but when I saw the look on his face… I just knew that something horrible must have happened to you.” He exhaled, still not looking at you. It was Regulus who helped you. Regulus saved your life. You were tremendously grateful for Sirius’s little brother. Sirius took a deep breath.

“After he calmed down, he explained what happened. Told us that he was just wandering around when he heard screaming, so he went to see what was going on. He found you on the floor with Snape and Mulciber above you with wands in their hands. Doesn’t take a genius to know what was going on. He went to you aid, yelling at them to leave you alone. Before he could make it to your side, they ran away, but Snivellus casted some weird curse at the very last moment. We don’t know what it was but..” he choked on his words, not being able to continued. You could feel the anxiety from remembering that night rolling off of him. James decided to add to his speech.

“It slashed up your whole body.” He said before Remus send a dark and disapproving look his was which shut him up pretty quickly. Thank Merlin for Lily who decided to carry on explaining before the two of them started fighting.

“The curse made numerous of gashes appear on your body, they were all so deep and you were slowly, but surely bleeding out. If Regulus hadn’t brought you to the infirmary so quickly, you’d bleed to death.” She said quietly, not looking into your eyes.

“We heard Poppy screaming at Dumbledore to sent for help, that she wouldn’t be able to safe you by herself. Then he and McGonagall came out of the door and saw us. I don’t think they were even surprised to see us there. Dumbledore left without saying a word, surely to sent for someone from St. Mungo’s, while Minnie stayed behind. She was crying but tried to look strong for us. Told us that you were hurt really badly, but that they were going to help you. Then she made us all leave with a promise that we would be updated as soon as she knew something. She walked us all back to our dorms, even Regulus, to make sure that we wouldn’t try to stay. But once inside the common room, we just snatched the cloak and decided that one of us would always be by your side and we were until you woke up. And now we’re here.” Remus ended the story and a long pause followed. You tried to compose your thoughts but it all seemed too much for you. So I did scream. Your head started to hurt and you were just so fucking exhausted from everything.

“We’re gonna let you rest now, Merlin knows you need it. We’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. I hope you’ll feel better, sunshine.” James broke the silence first and he gently kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, Jamie. For everything. You too, Lils. Please, try to get some proper sleep as well, okay?” You pleaded with them and softly.

“Only you would worry about us getting some sleep while laying in a hospital bed.” Lily shook her head but laughed a little bit and you smiled at them as James took Lily’s hands and they both left, leaving you with your boys.

“I’m so fucking incredibly sorry, my love. We promised you that we wouldn’t let anything happen to you and look where we are now. I’m so so so sorry.” Remus whispered, ashamed of himself.

“We won’t let anything like that happen to you again. I swear on my life. We failed you once, but it’ll never happen again, okay? I’d rather die than seeing you like this again. I’m so sorry, my darling.” Sirius apologized as well and your hear hurt for them.

“This wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have done anything. I don’t blame you and never will. Please, don’t blame yourself either. I’ll be okay.” You tried to reassure them, wishing they wouldn’t be so hard on themselves.

“But it is out fault. We should’ve protect you but instead left you alone to your misery.” Sirius kept on beating himself but you were quick to stop him.

“Please, don’t. You can’t be with me every second and that’s okay. You’re here now and that’s what matters.” Remus looked like he wanted to say something as well, but you stopped him. “Let’s talk some more tomorrow. I’m exhausted and in pain and I just want to sleep. I’m here and I’m alive, that’s what matters.”

“Of course, of course. We’re gonna leave you to rest. Merlin knows you need it. We’ll come back tomorrow.” Remus said as he started to stand up, but you quickly shot your hand to stop him, the quick move making your whole body ache again and you let out a groan. Sirius quickly brought the draughts that Pomfrey left for you to drink and you happily did so while smiling at him in thankfulness.

“Please stay, I don’t wan to be alone.” You whisper shyly when you’ve set the potion down, still holding Remus’s hand. He smiled at you gently but looked unsure.

“Are you sure? You need to get some sleep and we don’t wanna bother you or make you uncomfortable.” He made sure to know you’re comfortable.

“You could never make me uncomfortable. Please, I really need you right now.” You assured him and pleaded with both of them to which Remus nodded and performed a spell to make your bed bigger so all three of you would fit and have space.

“Oh, thank Merlin. I don’t think I’d be able to leave you alone tonight.” Sirius sighed as he laid next to you, very careful not to hurt you. You smiled at his words and turned to him.

“Have you talked to Regulus?” You whispered to him while Remus drew the curtain shut and went to lay on your other side.

“Yeah, sent him a message thanking him and telling him you were okay. He asked if he could see you.” He whispered back to you and gently put his arm under your head, to pull you just a bit closer.

“I’d like that. I wanna thank him myself.”

“I’ll let him know tomorrow. Wanna talk to him myself. But now sleep and don’t worry about a thing okay?” He kissed your head just as Remus lied on your other side and took you into his arms slowly, waiting for a sign of discomfort from you but when you didn’t show any, she kissed your head as well before whispering.

“Sleep now, my darling angel. We’ll be here when you wake up and then every second for the rest of our lives.”

[leaderwonim]

SEASONS

⤻ pairing. popular!sunghoon x shy!reader (ft nishimura riki and hanni from nwjns)

⤻ genre. fluff, hints of angst, brother’s best friend to lovers trope (reader is heeseung’s sister) forbidden love kinda

⤻ synopsis. park sunghoon, the notorious playboy who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend, was off limits. heeseung had made it clear to you during your freshman year of high school, and the rule still hasn’t changed even when entering your senior year. but what lee heeseung doesn’t know won’t hurt him right?

author’s note: wrote this out of boredom after listening to seasons by wave to earth 🥹 i love that song with all my heart. riki is so unserious lmao i love him. COMMENTS & REBLOGS are always appreciated 🤞

“he’s off limits,” heeseung says as he swings by your desk, watching as you scrolled through your Instagram feed, a post of sunghoon’s passing by. “i saw you stalk him, you know.”

“i wasn’t stalking him.” you say, shooing your older brother away. “geez, have you gotten crazier since you’ve left for stanford?”

“first of all, i’m not crazy.” he flicks your forehead, deciding to be the annoying older brother he was and rummage through your things. “and i’d like to see you get into stanford yn, i really would. instead of being boy crazy with your psychotic friends.”

you roll your eyes at this, placing your phone down to look at your brother. “my friends are not psychotic. plus, your stupid rule about sunghoon started in freshman year of high school, can’t you let it go?”

“never.” heeseung steps off your bed. “i know him, yn. you don’t, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

you blow the threat from your brother. if there’s one thing you’ve learned from living with lee heeseung your entire life was that ignoring him was easier than trying to pick a fight with him. he was stubborn as a bull.

heeseung and sunghoon became friends in the fifth grade after your family had moved, and he ignored your presence up until junior year of high school, where he ruffled your hair when you congratulated him on his graduation.

“thanks little lee,” he says, and it’s all park sunghoon has spoke to you, which hurt knowing that you’ve practically tried everything since middle school for him to acknowledge your existence.

“YN!” your mother calls from the kitchen. “oh gosh, i forgot to pack heeseung his lunch! can you drive to the university?”

your cheeks puff out, which makes riki who was currently on your phone screen, laugh.

“yah, listen to your mother lee yn,” riki snickers. “i’ll come with. i need to get out of my house anyway.”

you roll your eyes at his self invitation, hanging up as you quickly run down to grab heeseung’s lunch from your mom and your keys.

yn on top☝️

be ready in 5 nishimura, im omw

nishishi

ok.

yn on top ☝️

dry ass

“get in loser!” you call out. nishimura riki pulls his black shades down, eyebrows furrowed.

“the hell you call me?” he jokes, opening your passenger car door.

he starts to buckle his seatbelt as you drive, taking a sip from your stanley. “so why are you so excited? wait—i know why. you get to see park sunghoon in action!”

“yah!” you slap his shoulder with your free hand, turning the music a bit louder so you couldn’t hear him.

“oh don’t turn up the music because you can’t handle the truth. you just wanna see your brother’s hot best friend.”

“can you blame a girl?” you say, lips out in a pout. “maybe now that i’m 18, they’ll take me seriously.”

“nobody takes you seriously, y/n.”

“nishimura riki, you have 5 minutes to get out my car.”

turns out, nishimura riki did not get outside of your car. for a boy who was on the varsity track and swim team of your high school, he refused to walk the 3 miles that was left to go to the university.

“you almost forgot his lunch idiot,” riki laughs, handing heeseung’s lunch to you. “imagine you approach sunghoon thinking you’re all cool and then he asks why you’re here and you don’t even have your brothers lunch to defend you.”

“do you always wish death upon me?” you give him the stink eye, pulling him by his hands.

“little lee, did not expect to see you here.”

you knew that voice from anywhere, and you were almost afraid to turn around to face the owner of it.

“yah little lee, i’m talking to you.” it was park sunghoon in all his glory, his hair sitting all nice and pretty as he waits for your response.

“oh! uh—where’s heeseung?”

“ouch,” sunghoon places a hand over his chest. “i greet you and the first thing you ask is where’s your brother.”

riki cackles loudly, so loud that you want to slam his mouth shut and pretend you don’t know him.

“hi park sunghoon,” he greets, extending his hand.

although sunghoon finds the tall boy a bit of a cutie by his baby face, the way he was holding onto your hand made him already seem like a threat, so sunghoon’s expression is pursed into a poker face.

“heeseung is down at the corridor,” sunghoon says, turning back to you. “do you want me to give him that?”

you nod shyly, handing the lunch to sunghoon who smiles. “aish, the kid got into stanford and he’s still making his mom make his lunch?”

you could feel riki’s hand loosen from yours, his attention caught on two students who were currently dancing on the other side of campus.

“be right back!” he exclaims, running off to watch them.

“this jerk,” you whisper underneath your breath, smiling when you make eye contact with sunghoon again.

“he’s quite the character, isn’t he?” sunghoon questions. “who is he?”

he says that in such a bitter taste that makes your stomach flip, wondering why he was suddenly upset.

“nishimura riki, he transferred to hybe high from japan just this year. he’s really sweet but very chaotic.”

“ah,” sunghoon clicks his tongue. “is he your boyfriend?”

your words almost get caught in your throat, obviously shocked by sunghoon’s straightforward question. “what?! no!”

“oh,” he smiles. “that’s good little lee.”

“you should just call me y/n,” you groan. “little lee sounds so stupid.”

“it’s not stupid,” sunghoon says, flicking his hand. “it’s cute.”

“really?”

“like you.”

before you could even process it, riki’s already running back to the two of you, excitedly telling you about the amazing dance program stanford has to offer.

“let’s go! i have to go home and submit an application to stanford!”

sunghoon raises an eyebrow at the excited tall boy who was currently grabbing you, sending you a small wave and smirk when your eyes plead for him to rescue you.

“see you soon little lee.”

“YAH! ARE YOU AN IDIOT?”

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU IT WAS AN ACCIDENT?!”

you were currently scolding the japanese boy for ruining your chances with sunghoon earlier.

“it is not my fault lee yn!” he says, puffing out his chest. “plus, the dancers say there’s a party this weekend at stanford and they’ll sneak us in. we have to go, you can see sunghoon hyung again and i can see them!”

you pursed your mouth into a thin line, riki awaiting anxiously for your answer.

“let’s say i do wanna go, heeseung would never let me go to a college party, especially not with a boy like you!”

riki clasps his hand over his chest and pretends to fall over in pain on your bed. “how could you say that?! i’m a great guy. cmon yn, you can’t let your older brother dictate your entire life, you’re 18 now!”

although riki has said a million of stupid things, he was right about this. you were eighteen, and you didn’t need your older brother ruining your chances of getting a boyfriend.

“okay,” you say, watching as riki’s eyes lit up. “let’s go. who are your dancer friends?”

the weekend had came by quicker than you thought, and you waited until heeseung said his goodbyes to you so you could get dressed and do your makeup.

although you didn’t want to go overboard with the whole thing, you still wanted to impress sunghoon, because after all, there would be a bunch of prettier college girls at the party that were smarter than you in everything.

“wow.” nishimura riki’s mouth drops as he sees your dress and face. “you clean up nice lee yn!”

“thanks ri,” you ruffle his hair, which he swats away in annoyance. “let’s go, heeseung’s already there.”

“great, so are my dancer friends!”

the two of you blended in easily, riki’s height doing both of you a favor as you held hands and made your way through the crowd of dancing and drinking college students.

“little lee?” your face bumps into sunghoon’s chest, and you almost gulp when you look up at his height. “what the hell are you doing here?”

“well that’s my queue to leave!” riki chuckles nervously, throwing you a lazy thumbs up as he runs to the drink cooler.

“never will understand that kid.” sunghoon mutters under his breath. “but seriously y/n, it can be dangerous, why are you here?”

it’s the first time in forever that he’s addressed you by your first name, and you can’t help but feel giddy.

overconfident by the drinks you had pregamed with riki previously, you find yourself leaning closer to park sunghoon. “i came here for you.”

he blinks.

“here..” he states, glancing around the party. “for me?”

the confidence wore off in a second. you were now starting to get embarrassed, cursing yourself for saying such things in front of sunghoon who probably didn’t even like you.

“that’s sweet little lee,” he says, eyes crinkling. “but you could get into a lot of trouble if your brother finds you, you know? he already freaks about you enough, finding you at a party at his college at night will kill him at the spot.”

park sunghoon was right, your brother would absolutely rage if he had found out you snuck out to go to a party. in some ways, he was even more strict than your mom.

“hoonie!” the voice of a girl interrupts the both of you as she makes her way over, placing a sloppy kiss against sunghoon’s cheek. she hasn’t said anything to you and you were already starting to see red.

“oh hi! i didn’t see you there!” she extends her hand, grinning from ear to ear. “i’m hanni, president of the pi beta thi sorority!”

you notice sunghoon’s hands finding themselves around her waist. although he’s probably only doing that to stabilize her, you find yourself too jealous to speak.

“hanni, this is lee y/n, heeseung’s sister.”

“oh!” the girl gasps. “oh my gosh, i’ve heard just so much about you! you’re prettier in real life! what are you doing at a college party?”

now you can’t really keep being mad at her because she seems so genuine when she’s complimenting you.

“oh, my friend riki has dancer friends who invited us.” you say awkwardly, watching as sunghoon whispers something in hanni’s ear.

“well that’s awesome, i hope i’m gonna see you here next year!” hanni then waves her hands, parting away from sunghoon. “i’m gonna go say hi to your brother, toodles!”

you watch as she makes her way towards the outside, most likely to the pool. at least you knew where your brother was so you know how to avoid him.

“hanni is really sweet,” sunghoon says as you turn back to face him. “met her a few months ago.”

“oh really,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek. “is she your girlfriend?”

sunghoon laughs as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. “what? no—of course not. she’s just touchy when she’s drunk. she’s dating one of my frat friends, his name is yang jungwon.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, happy that sunghoon was still single. after all, hanni was a pretty and nice girl, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was able to pull him.

the two of you stand in silence for a bit, sunghoon staring into your eyes with his dazed eyes. you almost want to pull him in, close the gaps between yours and his lips.

“am i stupid?” he suddenly asks, eyes still in contact with yours.

“no, why would you say that sunghoon?”

“i still like you after all this time. even when i got to college and promised myself i’d find a girlfriend and move on, you’re always still at the back of my mind.”

his confession makes you wonder if you were hallucinating, not believing that the park sunghoon who you’ve been inlove with since childhood was currently telling you he liked you.

“i..” he doesn’t let you say anything else, choosing to lean in and kiss you instead.

it’s all great and feels magical until you’re pulled back harshly, the sound of your brother’s yelling filling your ears.

“LEE Y/N? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING AT A COLLEGE PARTY, AT NIGHT? KISSING SUNGHOON OF ALL PEOPLE? WE’RE GOING HOME!”

you want to cry in embarrassment when you realize everyone has turned their eyes to look at you, and sunghoon throws you a look of guilt and pity when he sees heeseung dragging you away.

“stop it, you’re embarrassing me.” you cry as you’re outside the party.

“me, embarrassing you?” heeseung scoffs, looking up into the sky before looking down at you. “do you know how much you’ve disappointed me tonight? first, you dress up in barely any clothes, then you sneak into a party with some japanese male exchange student, and then you KISSED MY BEST FRIEND?” you close your eyes at heeseung’s yelling, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole.

“what will i do with you?” he grumbles as he drives the two of you home. “you’re lucky mom is out of town for two days. if i drove you home like this, she would kill you. and is that fucking alcohol i smell on you lee y/n?”

you gulp, knowing full well that you probably reeked of alcohol and sunghoon’s cologne at that moment.

“i told you he was a bad influence.” heeseung says as a red light comes up, turning to you as his hands were still on the steering wheel. “he’s going to break your heart and crush it beneath his feet, and who are you gonna come crying to? me. i’ve seen it so many times before y/n, my own girl friends at college have got with sunghoon and all he’s done is crush their souls and spirits. you think you’re any different because he said a few sweet things and kissed you?”

“stop it.” you say, wiping your tears away. “you’re being mean, heeseung.”

“men like him don’t change, y/n. sure, he’s my best friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend. he’ll drop you the second he feels like you’re inconvenient.”

you let out your first sob at night as your brother pulls into your driveway. although he’s still fuming mad at you for going against all his rules, he pulls you into his chest, letting you cry it out as he rubs your back comfortingly.

“are you okay?” is the first thing nishimura riki says when he sees you at school, frowning at your bloodshot eyes. “i saw you get dragged away by heeseung hyung yesterday night. it was really loud.”

“gee, thanks.” you scowl at him, making him raise his hands in surrender.

“if it makes you feel better, sunghoon wanted to speak to you.”

your head suddenly peeks up at this, and riki almost laughs by how easily he could change your mood.

“really? even after last night?”

“mhm.” riki stabs a fork into his mashed potatoes. “but he didn’t look so happy, so if you end up crying after, i have ice cream at my house.”

you let out a laugh at the boy’s words, silently thanking the world for giving you such an unserious best friend.

and just like riki had said earlier, park sunghoon was waiting in front of your house by the time you got home.

“hey.” he says, hands in pocket.

“hey.”

“about last night,” he seems to be looking everywhere but you. “i’m really sorry about your brother.”

“it’s fine.” you say, shrugging. “he was just being overprotective as usual.”

“yeah.” sunghoon steps closer cautiously. “i meant what i said, you know. about me liking you.”

“sunghoon, i like you too.”

he nods slowly, expression still glum. “that’s the problem though. we cant be together, y/n, you know that, right?”

“why?” you breathe out. “because you want to keep playing girls at your college?”

his eyebrows furrow deeply. “what? no? i’m just—i can’t be with you!” he steps backwards. “i’ll ruin your life, you said it yourself, i play girls at stanford. what’s to say i wont do the same to you?”

“i have known you since you were 10 sunghoon!” you say, throwing up your hands exasperated. “i know you can change for the better. i won’t let you go away this easily, not when i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

“really?” sunghoon whispers, eyes teary. “you’ve spent your entire life loving me?”

“i have.” you walk up to sunghoon, cupping his face into your hands. “and i’ll love you for my next life if i have to.”

he laughs quietly, head tilting as he admired your face.

“little lee,” he says softly. “you really are a gem, aren’t you?”

park sunghoon being park sunghoon doesn’t let you reply to his words, instead shutting you up with a long kiss on the lips.

“wow.” you say as you pull away, making the older boy giggle. “lee heeseung is so gonna kill the both of us after the life lecture he gave me last night.”

“can’t kill me if i move away to antarctica.” sunghoon smirks, watching as your expression changes in a millisecond.

“YAH PARK SUNGHOON! YOU ARE NOT MOVING ANTARCTICA AFTER JUST CONFESSING TO ME!”

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Denial

Co-written with the gorgeously talented @gravid-transluna Thanks so much for picking up this RP starter, so happy we’re collaborating and writing fics. I’m having a blast! 💜 [fpreg, 7.7k words, birth denial, clothing birth, public birth]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex had a million and one things to do in the office before she went on maternity leave. The day was disappearing fast and she’d barely sat down; with back to back meetings, numerous phone calls, it was non-stop. It seemed her body wasn’t too keen on being pushed so hard this late in her pregnancy, if the constant braxton hicks were anything to go by, but she powered through assuring herself that she’d be resting soon. Just get through today.

The Exec waddles into the lift, heading to a meeting room a few floors below. The doors were just about to close before a young employee jumped in lightly after her. They stood in relative silence facing the exit, until the sudden screech of metal clanged all around them. The floor shook, jolting suddenly, and the lift was brought to an abrupt halt.

Alex’s curled hair swung around her face as she glanced at the tiny screen which usually displayed the floor level - it was now flashing a warning error image. “Eugh, is the lift broken?” Alex gruffed, annoyed.

“Looks like it.” The anxious looking subordinate replied, clearly worried and apprehensive at the thought of being trapped in here. “H-Have you got your phone with you?”

“Damn. No, it’s on my desk. You?” Alex asks, frustrated her pregnancy brain had struck again, making her forget something as fundamental as her phone. Seeing the other woman’s expression Alex quickly realised neither of them had a phone.

Thankfully the lights stayed on, but the metal box quickly started feeling too small. Another cramp rolls across Alex’s large, full-term, belly and she can’t help but grimace.

“Oof…mmmnghh….” A moan slipped out under her breath, she rubbed the side of her twinging bump as the other hand automatically reached to the wall of the elevator for stability. “Hooohooo… not now…” Alex whispered.

The other woman looked at her nervously.

Colleen had two fears: contained spaces and her boss, Alex. Unfortunately for her, she was trapped in with both of them today. Alex’s pregnant belly straining the buttons of her work blouse did nothing to diminish her fearsome personality; if anything motherhood had only made her more intimidating, still a commanding presence in a roomful of men even with a swollen, overdue baby belly hanging off her frame.

Worse, her boss seemed a little more than uncomfortable in this situation. She’d seen her bite receptionists’ heads off her a wrong coffee order, but still, seeing Alex wince and rub her belly, which seemed to have dropped even lower this week, she felt compelled to hesitantly ask, “Ma’am, is everything alright? I’m sure they’ll realize we’re in here eventually.”

Alex gave Colleen a quizzical look, but on seeing where her colleague's gaze was, she realised she was rubbing the right side of her large pregnant stomach. She stopped, letting her arm fall limp at her side.

“I’m fine,” Alex replied curtly. “I just don’t have time for this today.” She sighed and looked around the cramped space, what she was looking for she didn’t know, but there must be someway to get someone’s attention and get them out of there.

She knew she was cutting it fine; both by how late she was going on maternity leave but also with how much she was trying to cram in to her last day. Her feet were aching in her 3inch heels having been on her feet for most of the day, in meetings and presentations and walking around the office trying to make sure everyone in her team was well equipped to continue things during her absence. She was heading down to the third floor for her next meeting with the team leaders, that was if the lift hadn’t so inconveniently broken down.

“So you don’t have your phone on you or any method of communication at all?” Alex griped, asking her mousy employee yet again. Hoping the woman would miraculously have a way of contacting the security team or something.

The baby in her womb seemed just as uncomfortable as Alex in this small space, shifting and kicking harshly against her taught and stretched skin. His head was sitting so low in her pelvis it felt like her hips were being pulled apart. She’d be happy when this pregnancy was over, she was done playing host, she wanted her body back. Though she continued to dress in her staple pencil skirt, blouse and heels, pregnancy be damned.

Alex began to pace around the room, finding herself needing to move, shifting the aching from her hips. Another braxton hicks decided to add to her problems, she huffed under her breath and faced away from the doors into the corner, blowing out a silent exhale through the twisting pain.

Colleen could tell by the way that Alex’s gaze flicked over her that she probably only recognized her face by sight and not by name. She seemed impatient, which wasn’t unusual for such a busy, ambitious, work-minded woman, but there was something else in her impatience, an almost shifting restlessness that seemed to match the restless movements in her packed womb. The fabric of her blouse was almost see-through, stretched so thinly around her massive swell, and Colleen could observe visible ripples against the tight skin of her belly. She winced. Colleen wasn’t at an age where she had seriously considered children, but her respect for her boss had grown immensely, seeing her waddle around the office in her pencil skirt and blouse, seemingly as efficacious as ever.

Alex’s restlessness became even more pronounced when she turned away from Colleen, as though hiding her big belly and whatever was going on inside it.

“I don’t have my phone,” Colleen said helplessly, hoping it wouldn’t result in a chewing out. “I left it in my handbag on my chair.”

Alex let out a disgruntled sigh, half from annoyance at her staff’s serious lack of organisation - who goes anywhere without their phone anyway? - but also from the way in which this false contraction was starting to bite.

The practice pains had been a consistent thorn in her side all day and it was really starting to get on her nerves. She’d successfully managed to grin and bear it through this morning's presentation to the board but by lunchtime they were starting to take her breath away. Still, Alex carried on. There was just too much to do and not enough time. It was why she was working right up to her due date, not that she told the company that. They’d have forced her out weeks ago if they knew she’d technically passed her due day on Tuesday.

When the pains passed, Alex spun around and walked determinedly towards Colleen who appeared to brace herself for something. She always got a warped joy when they did that. Leaning past her employee, Alex began pressing buttons on the lift and found the emergency call button. “Let’s try this shall we.” Alex smirked at the hesitant Colleen. Unfortunately the emergency button did absolutely nothing at all.

“Umm,” Colleen scratched awkwardly at her neck, trying to disguise her growing panic. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped, but more so she knew as things continued to go wrong her boss’s mood would continue to sour, and didn’t want to remotely be in her vicinity when it did.

She tried not to look at the immense belly taking up most of her field of vision, though it was hard not to glance at it, especially when making eye contact with Alex was such a terrifying experience.

“We could shout for help?” Colleen suggested. “Maybe someone will hear us from whichever floor we’re on.”

“Eugh… if you want to shout then go ahead.” Alex dismissed, and continued back to her pacing around the small space.

They stayed in awkward silence, the only sounds were the clack-clack of Alex’s heels on the metal floor as she did loops around her section of the lift. She had one hand on her back, knuckles pushing into the base of her spine as it ached and spasmed. She’d managed to breathe her way through a few more of the annoying cramps but they were soon joined by a serious increase in pressure.

One particularly forceful twinge made her gasp and stop her pacing, one hand flying to the wall to lean against as the tightening got stronger and stronger and stronger. She couldn’t stop the low hum she made in her throat as the cramp continued its assault.

Colleen didn’t dare to open her mouth to shout, knowing she’d probably receive a dirty look and a complaint about a headache for her troubles. Instead she watched as her boss paced, again noting her restlessness and the hand bracing her curved, strained back as well as the hand constantly circling and resting on the broad shelf of her belly, as though to soothe the baby inside. This time, though, she noticed Alex’s walk, the way she waddled as though encumbered not only by the weight of her huge bump, but a pressure of sorts between her legs.

She more than suspected Braxton Hicks at this point, but her worst suspicions were confirmed when her boss finally leaned against the wall as though unable to support her own weight or trying to escape a deep pressure from her womb. She hummed, lowing as though she’d momentarily forgotten Colleen was there, absorbed with sensations from her pregnant body.

“Ma’am, are you okay?!” She stepped closer, hands spread like she didn’t know what to do with them. “You’re having a contraction, right. Oh god. Oh, this is so bad.”

Alex waved a hand away at the approaching colleague, keeping her at arm's length. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hoooo…. It’s nothing, it’s just a c-cramp that’s all… mnghhh…”

Her hand drifted lower and brushed along the underside of her stomach needing to try and find some way to ease the ache that was gnawing through her belly. She could feel her knees start to wobble and she breathed steadily, her weight supported by the wall, until it passed.

“See, it’s gone now. I’m fine.” Alex stated confidentially, her work facade firmly replaced. “Someone better get us out of here soon, I’m gonna bloody fire that security officer.” Alex muttered aloud.

She wanted to resume her pacing, her hips needed the constant movement, but her feet were far beyond protesting the high heels - they were downright screaming at her. Too exhausted to keep up every one of her professional fronts, Alex resigned herself to the comfort of bare feet and uncharacteristically kicked off her shoes.

Colleen nodded furiously at Alex’s dismissal of the pains. “Right! Of course, just a cramp. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

The young employee didn’t know much about pregnancy and birth, but she’d seen enough media about it to know that Alex closely resembled that of a woman in labor: the characteristically low, dropped belly, the consistent cramps, the restlessness. But…. that’d be impossible, right? There was no way she’d had the misfortune to be trapped in a lift with her boss of all people, and especially not an Alex in labor. That was not an encounter Colleen particularly wanted to be around.

She reassured herself. Even if those cramps coursing through Alex’s obviously overdue belly were labor pains, labor could take days, right? They couldn’t be stuck in here for more than thirty minutes, someone would absolutely notice Alex’s absence if not Colleen’s. She was too important to the company. Then, Colleen could get back to her emails and Alex could be sped off to the hospital or wherever she preferred to drop that kid.

These hopes wavered when Alex kicked off her shoes, pacing in her stockings. Colleen’s eyes widened. This was a ridiculously unprofessional move for Alex, she knew that for sure.

Without her black patent heels Alex shifted anxiously on flat swollen feet around the confined space, gradually feeling the temperature rise and the air thicken. There was no circulation in the small box, no air conditioning or fresh air coming through any gaps or vents. She could feel sweat start to dampen the back of her neck, her curled hair sticking to the tacky skin. She ran her fingers through her hair, arms stretching up and belly sticking out, picking up the ringlets from the back of her head and lifting them off her neck allowing some air to cool her overheated skin.

The Exec huffed an exhausted sigh. “How long do you reckon we’ve been in here?” Alex asked breathlessly to her subordinate.

She had given up on pacing and resorted to standing at the back of the lift and next to the metal railing that ran across the width of the back wall. Her hips swayed side to side, she breathed slow and deep, and occasionally would place a subtle hand on the railing for support.

The persistent braxton hicks were grating, chipping away at her resolve. It was probably just the confinement and heat, being stuck inside this metal box, but it felt like the intensity of the cramps were getting worse. She caught herself moaning under her breath when they struck, she tried to swallow the noise but it was never quick enough to remain totally silent. She wasn’t in the mood to field questions or concern from Colleen so she had to get those moans under control. Unfortunately for Alex, when the next contraction appeared it came on so suddenly she didn’t have time to prepare. The pain lanced across her stomach and Alex doubled over gasping, hands flying out and gripping the railing tight, an unusual groan rumbled from her throat.

Having watched her superior endure what were undeniably contractions at this point, Colleen’s concern had only multiplied. If she hadn’t been certain when Alex kicked off her heels (swollen, aching feet weren’t exactly uncommon in pregnancy, right?) or when sweat began to bead on her forehead in contrast to her usual inclement coolness (well, it is hot in here with no air conditioner, and she must be dying carrying around all that belly in such cramped quarters), there was not a doubt in Colleen’s mind when Alex clutched at the railing and moaned, low in her throat. It sounded so unlike Alex’s clipped, sharp tone. Almost animalistic, like something natural, a sudden instinct to vocalise as her belly contracted.

“Er—ma’am?” Colleen kept her distance, eyeing Alex’s heaving swell. “Are the, um, cramps getting stronger? They seem—well, they seem like they’re closer together too. Almost like—”

She didn’t dare say the word. Alex, she knew, didn’t like contradictions to what she said.

Instead she answered her boss’s previous question. “It’s probably been, oh I don’t know, maybe an hour or so?”

At the other woman’s panicked questions Alex managed to grit through her teeth a dismissive “… I’m fine!… mnghhh!” Alex tried to straighten up, to preserve appearances, and found she couldn’t - not while her muscles were still seizing. Instead another groan slipped from her mouth before she could clamp it shut.

“I-I think- they might be more than just cramps…” Alex panted as the worse seemed to fade away. “I think these m-might be… hoooo practice labour pains.” The Exec admitted hesitantly to her employee, removing one hand from the railing to circle around the heavy weight of her hanging bump.

She had a reputation to maintain, appearances to uphold, and Alex didn’t want to show any kind of weakness to anyone with an employee ID card. But as the waves continued she was forced to admit to her one companion she was indeed suffering from Braxton Hicks contractions. But that was fine, Colleen was only one person and after today she would be going on maternity leave and wouldn’t have to see anyone for months.

But this baby better quit practising for the main event soon. The false pains were aggressive and forceful, the weight of the baby’s head pressing so hard against her pelvis it felt like it was about to drop out any second. She hoped by the time they were rescued the baby and her body would have settled down. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“They better get us out of here soon…” Alex breathed heavily and quietly. Then realising her company added “I’ve got a meeting at 4pm with the CEO.”

Colleen tried to keep her face neutral, even as her boss doubled over groaning, her belly tight around her middle. Alex’s thighs were wide in her pencil skirt and Colleen could tell by their restless shifting and the slight bending of Alex’s knees that she was feeling the urge to spread them even more, not quite a squat yet but unable to stand with any poise anymore. Inwardly, though, her thoughts were racing. Braxton Hicks weren’t powerful like this, were they? After all, if they had forced a woman like Alex into a panting dishevelled mess, they must be pretty strong.

‘Should I tell her it sounds like she’s having contractions?’ Colleen deliberated. By the minute, she could tell Alex was progressing into her labour. Even as she struggled to maintain her image her body was getting her ready for birth, and Colleen knew that even her boss’s willpower wouldn’t halt such a natural, primal process. Then again, if Alex wanted to be in denial, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. They still had to wait in this lift until rescuers showed up—Colleen might as well not lose her job on top of it.

Instead, she nodded again. “Yes, ma’am. Of course, practise pains. I’m sure they’ll subside before long. They’re supposed to be quite irregular.”

“Exactly… hoooo… I just need to ride them out. It’s fine. Hoooo…” Alex’s usually assertive voice sounded somewhat unsure. She didn’t like it.

Both hands returning to the railing, facing the wall, Alex found her weight shifting from hip to hip. Her stance was wide - when did that happen?- and her blouse was damp with sweat. The boss was grateful there was not a mirror in this lift, dreading to think what she looked like.

The false pains didn’t seem to be fading anymore, staying at a constant ache in her womb with agonising peaks shooting across her back and down her thighs. She prided herself on her ability to handle any challenge, but for the first time in her life she doubted her willpower to make it through. If this was practice labour she did not want to experience the real thing. Perhaps she should organise a c-section when she gets out of here.

The pressure in her pelvis was getting almost unbearable, and combined with the false contractions that continued to strike, she felt herself losing control of her autonomy. Her body was shifting and moving of its own accord and ghastly noises were coming from her mouth. Her hips were on fire, a weight pressing and splitting them apart. She bent over gripping the railing, flat back and hips shifting backwards. Her legs tried to stand further apart but were stopped by the tight fitting pencil skirt around her thighs. The groan that left her mouth was unrecognisable, like she was possessed. As the pressure built and built, she could feel an urgency sinking lower and lower. Before she knew it the sounds from her mouth had deepened, her heavy breathing ending with an animalistic grunt.

Colleen continued to observe as Alex made noises that she couldn’t even reconcile with the aloof, in-control Alex that she knew. Wide-eyed, she couldn’t stop staring as the laboring woman paced the tiny space. Her grunts, the way she hissed through her teeth, with every sound she appeared closer and closer to giving birth. Her waddle was pronounced, almost bowlegged as though there was a deep weight between her legs, forcing them apart and pulling her closer to a grounded position. ‘Holy shit,’ Colleen thought. ‘She’s about to drop her baby!’ She didn’t know a thing about midwifery or delivering a child. Much less delivering for a mother who refused to even admit she was in labor.

Colleen tried to track Alex’s contractions in her mind as they ramped up in both frequency and intensity, but found it hard without a watch or a way to tell time. Eventually she gave up, reassuring herself that the next stage of labor wasn’t yet upon them, and that unless Alex broke her waters the baby would remain inside her womb until they could call some paramedics. Still, she didn’t like the fact that Alex appeared to be losing her calm, composed self. Drenched in sweat, grunting and groaning through contractions, her body was obviously telling her it was time, and Colleen wondered if she’d even let her help if it came down to her pushing her kid out into her pantyhose or exposing her heavily pregnant self to a random colleague.

Alex’s grip on the railing tightened as she felt her legs start to tremble. Pressing her forehead against the cool metal wall, she released a shaky exhale. She couldn’t think… hell she could barely stand. Every part of her entire being was consumed and overwhelmed by the pressure and pain between her legs.

In some buried corner of her mind an instinct was telling her to get lower to the ground, to remove her skirt and tights, to open up her legs and hips. Alex fought against the idea, she’d already lost enough dignity trapped in this lift with some entry-level employee, she was not going to make it any worse. But when the next contraction struck, any fighting spirit she had seemed to evaporate.

“Ohhhh god!!!! Mnnnghhhh!” She groaned, long and deep, rocking herself forwards and backwards and clinging on to the only thing keeping her on two legs. “The pressure….. hoooooo…. There’s so much -mngh!- pressure!!! Mnngghhhhh!!!”

Her body sank back deep into her hips, knees dipping slightly in her tight pencil skirt and belly hanging to the ground, her backside swaying in the centre of the confined space. She could feel her muscles squeezing with the force of contraction, trying to do something. The baby dropped even lower and smashed through her cervix. She felt so full, the mass in her pelvis so heavy, and her body screamed at her to bear down.

“No…..” Alex cried aloud against nature's call. “No… don’t…” but her instincts took over and suddenly the mother-to-be was pushing.

“Ma’am!” Colleen cried, startled by such a stark display of utter abandonment from her boss. Her waters hadn’t yet broken. She couldn’t be pushing, could she?! Yet Alex was squat-standing and clutching the railing, the backs of her thighs trembling with an immense groaning effort. It sounded more forceful than just enduring the pains in her belly. It sounded as though Alex was actively doing something, putting in a hard, straining effort. Working with her body without a thought in her mind except birthing her baby. Between her spread thighs, Colleen could see the underside of her stomach, hanging low, uterus clenching her belly into a hard, tight ball. The way she bent her knees periodically, grunting uncontrollably each time… it was as though she was trying to force something low and heavy through her bottom. Everything about Alex seemed heavy, gravid.

She groaned again, and Colleen gasped, “Ma’am, are you pushing?! You can’t push, not yet!”

Tentatively, she placed her palm against Alex’s swaying lower back, curving with the weight of her belly. She began to rub and massage the tense muscles, not knowing what else she could do to help. The way Alex seemed consumed with birthing, Colleen didn’t think she even noticed her.

“Unnhhh- I’m not pushing! I’m not- ohhhhhhh- I’m not in labour damn it!!!” Alex’s staccato breaths carried her continued denial of what was happening to her body.

She gasped, breath holding in her lungs, and her body pushed again without instruction. Alex ignored the faint relief that was gained with the push, the satisfaction of the productive contraction, the moving of the baby as it neared its exit. But then the urgency faded, the contraction eventually dimmed, and Alex could think again. She had control again.

It was then she noticed the hands that were rubbing her lower back. Startled Alex abruptly stood upright and glared at the presumptuous woman beside her. “What on earth are you doing?” Alex sniped, waving an arm and shooing her away.

The nervous employee recoiled back and Alex shifted around the space again, both hands holding the large belly about to burst out the sweat-dampened blouse. “I am not in labour.” Alex repeated firmly, forcing the confidence as if willing it to be true. “I am not having this baby, and I don’t need your help.”

Colleen barely managed not to gape. Here Alex was, belly gleaming with sweat under her soaked blouse, contractions ramming her incessantly, curly hair damp and mussed in the heat of the lift. Her cheeks were splotchy and red with exertion and her chest was heaving, from the release of the contraction or from the force of her obvious pushing, Colleen couldn’t tell. All she did know was that her boss was actively bearing down, that much was clear. She would have thought anyone else was joking, but she didn’t think Alex had a sense of humor. She had to be in denial, Colleen concluded. To squat down and push like an animal like that, then brush off help like it was nothing—if nothing else, Alex certainly had willpower.

Of course, modesty and willpower goes out the window when you have a baby coming out of you, and from the noises and pushing grunts Alex had been making, it couldn’t be long now.

“I-I’m sorry,” Colleen stuttered. “Those…. practice cramps seemed so intense. You seemed like—well, like you were—“

Under Alex’s exhausted glare, Colleen faltered and trailed off.

“Uhh, I told you… I am not in labour- hoooo- I am fine!” Alex swallowed a moan before it slipped out her mouth. “When are they gonna bloody get us -mnnnnh!- outta here!” Standing by the lift doors Alex stared at the vertical line where the two sides of the sliding panels met, glaring at it willing them to open.

The weight of the baby’s head had started to press against her opening, Alex’s legs forced even wider apart with the sensitivity. Buried under layers of denial and facade, the unconscious sense of urgency had been joined by desperation and it was making its way to the surface.

Her fingers pulled at her blouse, freeing the thin satin from her skirt and letting it drape down from the significant curve of her belly. The pressure between her legs was beginning to return, Alex could feel it coming. Her arms lifted, hands palming the lift doors, and before she knew it she was banging on the metal to try and get the attention of someone outside this tin can.

The banging didn’t last long before Alex was stopped by the sheer force of the next contraction. Her fingers slowly slid down the lift door as her body crumpled in half over her tight, rock-solid belly. Double over she braced herself against the lift door, thighs widening and knees buckling in a semi-squat, and her body bore down with everything it had. Whether she wanted to or not every muscle was tense and squeezing, pushing the large round shape down down and out of her body. A rumbled grunt echoed from her lungs as she strained and pushed and contracted, and the heaviness between her legs started to burn.

Colleen was hyperventilating, barely able to register her own thoughts over the din of Alex’s furious pushing, grunts and groans erupting from her throat without pause or respite. The baby had to be coming soon, with how forcefully and urgently Alex was bearing down. Colleen’s mind swirled. As Alex pushed she took up the mantle of alerting any outsider to their situation, cupping her hands to her mouth and shouting over Alex’s uncontained moans.

“Help! Help us! We’re trapped in the lift and there’s a pregnant woman in here! She needs help, FAST!”

Alex’s voice rose to a deep bellow, trembling as though she was fighting an exhaustive battle against the baby inside her, bending her knees and opening her hips as wide as they could go in an attempt to drive it down and out. As her voice took on a higher, strained quality, Colleen began to suspect that something astonishing was taking place under her pencil skirt, that with all the pushing she’d been doing, the baby couldn��t possibly be very far from its only way out of her.

“Alex,” Colleen cried desperately. “What should I do?! I don’t know what to do!”

“You- mngh- don’t need to do anything cos mngh- I am not having this baby!” Alex grunted out, palms flat on the metal door, legs bent and wide beneath her skirt. “I am not in labour- hooo- I am not in labour…”

The exec panted the mantra over and over, fighting against her body’s urges to bear down. This baby was not being born in an elevator. She just had to breathe through the pains and she would be in the comfort and safety of a hospital soon, having a c-section damnit. That is what would be happening, not whatever the hell this woman was panicking about. Alex was in control, she always was in control, and the birth of her baby would be no different. She pushed herself off the doors and tried to move, to breathe through it, but the second she turned around her body doubled over and she gripped the railing to keep herself on two legs.

And then the burning got worse - the weight pressing lower, stretching apart her lips. The instinctual need to bear down was no longer a strong suggestion but a screaming demand. Alex was barely aware of her body’s actions anymore, she just wanted it all to stop. All she could do was gasp for air in between the bursts while her body forced the baby lower and lower - the head spreading her most intimate part around its giant surface. I will not have my baby here I will not have my baby here she chanted with every uncontrollable push.

Her thighs pulled the skirt as wide as it would go trying to make room, her whole body weight thrown forward as she leant over gripping the railing, arms locked and knees bent. But her hips weren’t wide enough, her body was too restricted by clothes, yet Alex was frozen to the spot as she grunted and roared with every wave. Soon the growling noise from deep in her throat turned into a pained whimper when the baby’s head pushed right through and fully crowned into her thong and stockings.

Colleen watched in horror as fluid suddenly spurted from between Alex’s thighs, soaking the floor of the elevator, filling the contained space with a musky, almost fertile scent. Alex shivered, lifting onto her toes as she gripped the railing. She looked as though her entire body was being pulled downward with the force of her descending baby. Her stockings were drenched—Colleen could scarcely believe the amount of fluid Alex’s body had let out, and it was still dripping and leaking from inside her skirt. She felt nauseous looking at the spreading puddle beneath Alex’s feet, and thought to herself, no doubt about it, there’s her waters. The release didn’t diminish Alex’s groaning efforts, though; if anything, the sudden breaking seemed to only renew her utter need to birth, nothing impeding or delaying its progress any more.

Except, of course—

Colleen gasped. “Ma’am—Alex—your skirt!”

Alex’s thighs trembled and quivered, spread so far that Colleen could see the hem of her skirt cutting into the flesh of her legs. She was trying to instinctively widen them, Colleen realized. She needed more space, even with them spread so far already, and Colleen could barely imagine the sheer size of the baby coming out of her boss. Then she didn’t have to imagine. As she watched, Alex’s skirt began to tent out slightly, tight against her backside as she doubled over, back flat. Whenever Alex grunted loudly, bending her legs and clutching the railing, the bulge in her skirt grew. That’s the head, Colleen thought, her own head spinning. My god, it’s enormous. It was a miracle they hadn’t been found yet from the noises Alex was making, letting loose guttural groans and roars that echoed in the enclosed space. Her entire face was twisted with effort, teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut. All her strength was going into giving birth to her massive baby, but still, it didn’t seem to be enough, not with her skirt keeping her legs too narrow, her hips too closed. Alex’s skirt lifted and tented more and more, until it seemed to reach a peak. Alex’s voice slipped into a whimper and Colleen blinked, never having thought she’d hear Alex make such a vulnerable, sensitive sound. Then, Alex dropped into another hard push. The tent in the fabric stayed put.

“Your skirt,” Colleen said again, and hurriedly bent to pinch Alex’s skirt up. “Your skirt’s—“

From this angle she could finally see the crown, and drew in a breath. Her boss’s most intimate region was stretched and distended beyond recognition, lips taut around the huge head making its way out of her from behind her thong. The narrow strip of black fabric just contained the head’s huge circumference, cupping it tightly, barely allowing any more space for it to progress. Without room, Alex was stuck with a full crown between her legs, unable to push it out into her stockings.

With her boss barely able to speak anymore, Colleen made an executive decision. “I’m sorry, but we have to get this skirt off. Your baby’s coming, Alex. I can see the head! It’s coming out of you, and you need to let it, okay?! Come on, please listen to me.”

“No….unghhhh!” Alex mewled “I’m not having this baby… not here- ohhhhhhhh!”

The Exec had completely lost all semblance of control; doubled over, hanging onto the railing, legs wide and dipped as much as they could go. Alex couldn’t move. She hissed through her teeth, panting as her labia stretched thin, the baby sitting between her folds. But the baby couldn’t come now! It just can’t. She was at work for fucks sake! And worse, she was trapped in the lift. Real labour takes hours, days, there was no way she was pushing a baby out right now…

Her body argued against her thoughts as everything tightened and contracted once more. Gasping for air Alex tried to fight the muscles bearing down against the ridiculously large mass in her vagina, but panting through the pain didn’t do anything to stop the automatic pushing. Primal and animalistic noises left her mouth as her body pushed, her deep lowing reverberated off the walls.

Grunting at the end of each push, Alex tensed and strained, the instinct desperate to expel the child from her womb. But it wasn’t moving, slipping only the tiniest millimetre into her underwear. Heart racing Alex felt panicked - fighting hard against this birth and yet simultaneously trapped as the baby was stuck, held in by her tight stockings.

“Oh god!!!! Get it out- get it OUT!!!” She cried.

It was all too much; the burning, the fullness, the weight, the pressure. Alex collapsed under it all. She let go of the railing, legs shaking, and she clawed at the hem of her skirt trying to pull it higher, to give her hips more room. It was so tight, and her legs were so wide, her nails scraped across the surface of her stocking covered thighs as she gripped and pulled the black fabric of her skirt up towards her hips. But another wave crested and with it she was consumed by the need to bear down once more. Abandoning her skirt she held fast to the metal railing, her knees buckling trying to pull her down into a squat, but the pencil skirt creaked as the fabric stretched to its limits and she could only dip down slightly and push the baby against the strained clothing.

“I-it’s stuck!” Colleen stuttered. “The head is—” she raised her voice, tried to get through to Alex, but could barely even hear her own words over the almost-inhuman noises escaping from Alex’s throat as she fought desperately against the elastic of her thong, caught between the need to birth and the unyielding fabric of her stockings and the black fabric containing the massive head tightly in her vagina, shoving forward with powerful muscles as it wedged back inside her with just as much force.

She couldn’t open her legs any wider, Colleen saw. They shook violently as she threw back her head and let loose another deafening moan. From Alex’s furious face it was obvious that Colleen didn’t even register as a presence anymore, that the only thing in the world that Alex was thinking about in this moment was the head lodged between her tensed, opened lips.

Only when Alex started screaming that she needed it OUT, right now, was Colleen galvanised into action. She lowered from her crouch until she was kneeling between Alex’s legs. For a brief second, Colleen was in awe of the sight before her; the woman she’d known as a fearsome presence, a powerful executive, had been reduced to a groaning, sobbing mess, birthing into her skirt. Yet, this was her transformation into motherhood, and there was something powerful in that too.

“Alex,” Colleen said. “Alex, you have to stop pushing. I need to get your skirt down.”

She doubted Alex even heard her, but nonetheless she grappled with the clasp of Alex’s pencil skirt. The waistband was held taut by Alex’s widened legs as she tried to allow the baby to pass through, and Colleen was unable to undo the clasp.

“Shi-it,” she licked her teeth and then grabbed both ends of the waistband, pulling hard. The clasp tore off, and immediately the skirt loosened and sagged around Alex’s hips.

“Oohhhhhh… get-it-off-GET-IT-OFF!!” Alex yelled, feeling the tightness of the skirt loosen around her middle.

She had to push, she had to get this baby out now - location and present company be damned - the torturous stretching and excruciating pain had to stop. And Alex knew there was only way in which it would.

Her employee, whateverhernameis, was pulling the skirt over her widened hips and Alex squirmed and shifted with the fullness and desperation to bear down. When the skirt hit the floor Alex immediately stepped out of it and dropped down fully into a deep squat, roaring with the effort of another push. The woman was behind her, she thinks, but she barely notices… Alex’s arms stretch upwards, hands still gripping the railing, her body hanging off the support and almost swinging in her squat.

Her underwear and stockings were still covering her lower body but the freedom of being able to fully open her legs meant the baby could move further out. Alex pulled in a deep breath and bore down with everything she had. Silent in her efforts as all her focus went inward.

Part of her wanted to feel, to know how much of the baby was born and how much there was left to go, but she daren’t release her vice-like grip for fear of collapsing and losing her pushing position. She gasped, her throat scratched and raw, and clamped her teeth together and growled another push. The baby was coming, she could feel it slipping out and this time it wasn’t retreating. Harder and harder she leant into the push and finally the head popped out into her stockings. Alex sobbed with relief and collapsed back into her member of staff.

Colleen cried out in surprise as Alex fell back into her arms, leaning her entire body weight into them as though she had used up all of her strength, drained from pushing the huge head through her overstressed opening, and beneath her more fluid flooded the floor of the lift from the sudden release. Colleen gingerly caught her by the armpits, and Alex’s knees jackknifed apart, jutting upward as she lowered her bottom and hips beneath her, the head dangling between the apex of her thighs. She moaned, breathless, closing her eyes. Tear trails marked their way down her cheeks. Damp and shivering, with a baby hanging out of her, Alex was totally vulnerable to Colleen, hardly seeming to even notice her exposure or dependence on her.

Colleen couldn’t help but smile down at her superior as she swayed and panted in her arms. An hour ago, Colleen might have received a harsh glance for even brushing her fingers as she handed her a coffee. Now, she was holding her up while she prepared to push her baby into the world.

“Go on,” Colleen urged. “Feel the head. It’s out now. You’re almost there.”

“What? Hoooo… it-it’s out… the head?” Alex could barely catch her breath to form words, her full breasts heaving up and down on her belly as she gasped for air.

Somehow the mother-to-be was still upright in her squat but no longer holding the rail, somewhere in her mind she knew the other woman was quite literally holding her up to birth but Alex couldn’t bring herself to pay it any mind. Her only focus was her child emerging between her legs. With a trembling hand she placed a hand downwards and felt, through the sheer stockings, her baby’s head.

“Oh my god… hoooo… I’m having the baby…”

Through all the denial Alex’s brain struggled to compute what was happening. She had fought against it so fiercely, so vehemently, and yet very clearly beneath her fingertips was a baby’s head.

“My-my tights… I’m still wearing my tights?! Oh no… the baby…the tights are over his head… have to get them off!” Alex shifted awkwardly, unsteady in her movements but seemingly desperate to free her emerging child from the confines of her stockings.

“Hoooo…. Ohhhh no….” Alex suddenly whimpered. “Ohhhhhhh I n-need to p-push again…. No… need-tights-off…Don’t push… mnnghhhh…”

“Hold on,” Colleen muttered, working out the logistics of removing Alex’s stockings with her squatting and crowning a baby into them. She heard Alex’s hushed voice, articulating her primal urge to bear down once again.

“Just a moment,” Colleen said, crouching lower while supporting Alex’s labouring body, wrapping her thumbs around Alex’s waistline.

She was close enough to smell the subtle aroma of Alex’s deodorant and the natural odors of birth on her, and see the sweat beaded on her neck. She saw every one of Alex’s muscles tense, her tendons standing clear. Alex moaned, already in the forceful grips of another contraction. Her moan tightened and deepened, and Colleen had listened through enough of her contractions to know that she’d begun to push against her will.

“Alex! No pushing, just hold on a few more seconds,” Colleen said, frantically tugging the stockings down her waist and glutes. Unfortunately, Alex didn’t seem to have any more seconds in her.

“Ohhhh GOD,” she bellowed. “Oh, I’m PUSHINGGGG!” She bore down relentlessly, and Colleen saw the head give a surge against the tight fabric.

Colleen cursed again. Between the baby being squeezed into the stretching fabric and Alex’s parted thighs and widespread knees, there was no way Colleen could even slide the stockings past her crotch. Which meant she couldn’t access Alex’s underwear either. The tent grew and shoved down toward the floor impossibly as Alex sank into her push.

Hopefully, she won’t be too mad about this, Colleen thought, then she seized fistfuls of fabric and tore, ripping a seam large enough for the head. Then she looped her finger around the thong and quickly pulled it to the side.

‘Okay! Okay, I think it’s free!” Colleen announced.

“Ohhhh fuck!!!! It’s coming outtt!!!” Alex cried, gasping a desperate breath in between her body’s involuntary pushing and she felt the burning ring return.

A deep and gravelled roar rattled her throat as the shoulders stretched her sore and sensitive lips. Her baby… it was coming out… in the elevator at work! She couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Gripping her knees she fully leant into the contraction, using every bit of it as her hips sank towards the floor and her muscles pushed.

Suddenly she yelped and jolted in Colleen’s arms as one shoulder slipped free and Alex quickly and instinctively let go of her knees to put both hands between her spread thighs. The baby’s head and neck were in her uncertain hands and she grunted, low and long, desperately calling on every ounce of strength she had left to get the infant out.

With a roar-turned-wail Alex cried out as the baby slipped from her body and shot into her waiting hands.

Up. She had to bring him up, had to hold him. In a fraction of a heartbeat Alex had pulled the baby from between her legs and held the slippery newborn against her chest.

“Y-you’re h-here… oh baby… you’re here…” Alex sobbed, wiping the blood and fluids from his face. It was scrunched and red, eyes not yet open, his body curled up tight. Then his fists pushed against her breast, legs kicking and discovering new sensations, and the little bundle let out a high-pitch cry as he opened his eyes.

Colleen let Alex slip from her arms to the elevator floor, cupping her baby gently in her arms and murmuring softly. She rocked slightly, and even in the enclosed space it seemed to Colleen as though Alex was in her own world, far away from anyone or anything else. She backed away, allowing Alex her moment to meet the child she’d worked so hard to carry and birth. She didn’t think she’d be able to see Alex as she had before, the untouchable executive. Instead, she’d witnessed Alex’s most intimate, vulnerable moment, even helped her through it. She smiled to herself and Alex cooed, her face close to the baby at her breast.

The quiet peace of the lift was disrupted by a banging on the metal ceiling.

“Hey—! Is someone in here? And, is that a baby crying?!”

Colleen met eyes with Alex, and laughed weakly. “I don’t suppose this qualifies for a promotion, does it?”

[innerfare]

Zoro NSFW // Smut Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Zoro smut from my multi character posts (Kisses, Going Down On You, Sex Toys, Threesome Headcanons, Blowjobs, Playing With Your Nipples, Mirror Sex).

Genre: Pure Smut

CW: NSFW // grumpy dom Zoro, Daddy Zoro, oral (receiving and giving), threesomes with Law, Perona, and Sanji, toys

———

Kisses: 

His kisses are a bit lazy, but deep. Also lots of tongue, to the point he’s used tongue when kissing you on the cheek without even realizing. Takes kissing you very seriously, gets grumpy if you two haven’t made out a little bit during the day, expects to make out with you at bedtime. If you try pulling away before he’s had his fill, he’ll tell you to stop and put a big, calloused hand on your cheek to pull your lips back to his. His eyes actually roll into the back of his head when you kiss his chest and shoulders. 

Going Down On You: 

When he’s hungry, he won’t ask. He’ll just pry your legs apart and go to town as casually as making a cup of tea, though he does it with such fervor you think he must be an addict. 

He usually drags you on top of him and makes you sit on his face so he can lap at your folds at his leisure. He prefers to sit with his hands behind his back while he does it, as if he’s a king and you’re servicing him by letting him tongue your poor, aching cunt (you are), but if you’re being naughty, he’ll wrap those massive hands around your thighs and hold you in place. He also gets super annoyed if you squeal or squirm. 

“Quiet, woman,” he’ll tell you, furrowing his brows. “You’re distracting me.” 

He likes to spread your lips apart and take a good look at you first. He’ll bury his face in your folds and inhale as deeply as he can several times, taking his sweet time before he begins poking and prodding. He’ll mutter to himself as he does it. 

“Mmm, that’s good. Yeah, just like that. That’s a sweet pussy. So sensitive. I bet I can make it cream.” 

He’ll stop in the middle of what he’s doing to place some warm, lingering kisses on your folds before ramming his tongue back inside you. Really loves spitting in your hole and pushing it in deeper with his fingers. Will literally drool in your cunt because he enjoys seeing it spill out. 

His Favorite Place: 

The crow’s nest is by far Zoro’s favorite place to fuck you. He actually prefers it to your bed. When he finishes his workout, he likes to sit back and have you ride him before he takes his afternoon nap, working the tension out of his muscles. It’s gross and sticky, and you both end up in the shower together afterwards. Whether the shower leads to a round two depends on how sore he is from his workout because he’ll basically only have shower sex if he’s holding you up against the wall. 

Threesome Headcanons 1: 

You getting drunk and asking an equally inebriated Zoro and Law to join you, fully expecting the swordsman to agree but the captain of the Heart Pirates to scoff. And Law does scoff, before promptly joining both you and Zoro in bed. These two seem so domineering but you’ll actually be able to call the shots if you say, “pretty please,” and pout; they’ll roll their eyes but do whatever you want, so long as you let them between your legs. Jerking Law off while you ride Zoro, sucking Zoro off while Law fucks you from behind, riding Zoro again while Law fucks you in the ass. Hot and heavy, but pretty chill vibe. Will definitely happen again. 

Threesome Headcanons 2: 

Zoro hushing Perona as he brings her naked pussy down on his face, yours already quivering around his aching cock. Zoro breathing a sigh of relief as he finally gets a sense of control over the pink haired pirate, you already on your best behavior like he taught you. Zoro letting Perona lick your pussy after he cums in you, but only if she promises to stop laughing at him when he gets lost around the castle. Zoro fucking Perona while she eats you out, then fucking you again for good measure. 

Threesome Headcanons 3: 

A threesome with Zoro and Sanji would be absolutely exhausting. These two have a nasty habit of turning everything into a competition. Sanji makes you cum once? Zoro has to make you cum twice. Sanji finishes in your mouth? Zoro has to finish in your mouth and cunt. You’ll have to jerk them both off simultaneously when you start to avoid hurting any feelings. Sanji prefers fucking your throat and Zoro prefers your pussy (or your ass), so it does work out in the end. They’ll definitely fight over who gets to hold you in their arms afterward. 

Sex Toys: 

Initially opposed to the idea of toys, doesn’t really understand the point when you have two perfectly good hands. He doesn’t even really like the idea of you using a vibrator on your own (“What, do I not get you off enough?”). He eventually warms up to it, especially once he realizes he can have you hold it to your clit while you ride him or while he fucks you from behind. Ends up having so much fun with this. Always uses a vibrator on your clit if he puts his cock up your ass. Gets pretty into butt plugs, really enjoys seeing the girly pink one that’s shaped like a heart inside your ass while he fucks you from behind. If you propose nipple clamps, he'll happily pull on the chain between. 

Blowjobs: 

Lays back with his hands behind his head and his legs sprawled out, ready to watch you go down on him. So smug, smirks and goads you into taking more of him into your mouth until you’re choking on his length, then pokes fun at you for taking on more than you can handle. "What's wrong? Is daddy's cock too much for your princess mouth? You said you could handle it." You taking more of him into your mouth than you can handle and choking a little is definitely his favorite part. When he’s not teasing you, he’s watching you like a hawk, pushing his hips up a little to get himself deeper down your throat. Is actually really good at holding back his orgasm, which is good because he wants you to go down on him for a while but he also wants to cum inside you, so once your jaw is locked and cramping, he’ll pin you beneath him and fuck his cum into you. 

Playing With Your Nipples: 

Very casual in the way he goes about it. Often lets his intrusive thoughts win when it comes to your tits. If you’re wearing a low-cut shirt or he can see your nipples through the sports bra you’re wearing while the two of you work out together, he’ll reach down your shirt or pull down your bra and play with your nipples. If he sees you in the shower, he will be reaching in to squeeze your tits and pinch your nipples a few times. But he doesn’t often escalate in these scenarios; that’s on you. Really likes having you on top during sex so he can reach up and lazily play with your nipples. 

Mirror Sex: 

Franky put a mirror in the crow’s nest for him so he has it while he works out, and the idea pops into his head one day when you’re up there and bend over to pick something up. It’s not long before he’s pulling his thick cock out and telling you, “be good for daddy.” He puts you on all fours and pushes your head down as he slips into you. Fucking you from behind in front of the mirror gives him the perfect view of your ass, round and jiggling as he ruts into you. And when he tangles his hand in your hair and pulls your head up, he can see the way your eyes roll into the back of your head when he smacks your ass. For your part, you can see the way the muscles in his abdomen ripple as he thrusts his hips, can see how big his hands look on your body, can marvel at his thick biceps while you’re getting railed from behind. Daddy Zoro isn’t one to cum quickly, but he does when he’s fucking you in front of the mirror. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[holylulusworld]

Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear

Summary: He doesn’t want to have company.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, spanking, orgasm denial, possessive Ari, a hint of dark/grey Ari?

Rating: Explicit

Square filled for @julybreakbingo: Square filled: "Park"

Square filled for @eclipsingbingo: Held down

This story is part of my Lumberjack Tales masterlist

Solitude. No people. No stress. No noises. That’s how he likes it, and he wouldn’t want to change it for anything.

He chose this life. After selling his company for more money than he could ever spend, Ari bought a forest to build a huge, luxurious cabin for himself alone. He’s got everything he needs. And what he doesn’t get, he can make with his strong hands.

Some people may call him crazy. A former CEO and successful businessman turning into a lumberjack building his furniture on free terms. Ari doesn’t care. He gives a shit on other people’s opinion.

Today is one of the rare days he must drive to the only town near his private forest. Ari hates leaving his solitude and meeting people. After a bad divorce, he’s not the most social person.

But – a man gotta eat even if he’s got a beautiful garden behind his cabin and a lake filled with fish. He needs more to fill his pantry. Beer, toilet paper, and batteries do not grow on trees.

“Mr. Levinson,” Susie, the clerk from the grocery store chirps when Ari walks toward the checkout. “Is that all?” She glances at the two shopping carts filled with everything he’ll need over the next weeks. Maybe even a month, or two. “Plastic or paper?”

“Paper,” he grumbles under his breath. “Plastic is bad for the environment.” Ari shakes his head at his words. Years ago, he would’ve given a shit on the environment or nature. He was obsessed with making money, a pretty woman, and fast cars.

“Sure,” she gives him a tight smile but says nothing. “Just a minute.” She snaps her fingers at the new bag boy. “Sean, get over here. We have a customer.”

Ari would like to roll his eyes as the boy groans loudly. He was on his phone, undoubtedly making a TikTok video to share with his two followers instead of doing his job.

“SEAN!” She grunts when he doesn’t move an inch. “If you don’t come here in a second, you are fired.”

“Man, if I made my first million with my video, I’ll quit,” Sean grumbles while reluctantly starting to pack Ari’s groceries into paper bags. “You will see. I’ll get out of this shitty town in no time.”

Ari holds back a comment. He learned that it’s better to shut your mouth and not get involved with the town’s folk. Unlike the cheery clerk at the grocery store, most people in this sleepy little town do not like him.

Especially because he stopped them from clearing the forest he bought. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” Ari swipes his card over the device. “Have a good day.”

Before Sean can grab the bags to carry them outside, Ari wraps his arms around the paper bags to carry them out of the store.

“Idiot!” Susie mutters. “You had to piss him off. Now he won’t come back anytime soon.”

Sean harrumphs. “This is the only store in town. Your love interest will be back. This doesn’t mean he wants to take you out…”

Back in his cabin Ari busies himself putting the groceries and toiletries away. Only to make a list for more. Soon it will be winter, and he needs more supplies. Ari hates driving to town during winter. He tries to leave his cabin less during the cold times.

His dog lies on the carpet in front of the fireplace in the living room, yawning loudly as his owner tells him they’ll need more wood.

“Come, buddy. We go for one last round for tonight,” Ari clicks his tongue, causing his dog to jump up and follow him toward the door. The Estrela Mountain Dog walks next to Ari as he steps out of the cabin.

Ari closes his eyes and inhales the air deeply. He can already smell the approaching thunderstorm. “We need to hurry, buddy. I know how much you hate getting your fur wet.”

He flashes his dog a smile before buttoning up his red-black checkered plaid. “Let’s go, Bear. We don’t wanna miss dinner.”

“HEY! STOP! This is private property!”

You are already out of breath when the man and his dog chase after you. All you wanted was to go for a swim in the lake. How should you have known that the forest is private property? You camped in forests all your life without getting into trouble.

Now this big guy is chasing after you like a madman. “STOP! You cannot come to my property and steal…”

“Bear. Get them!” The man calls for his dog. The giant beast speeds up to outrun you. It jumps at you. Pushing against your back so you land on the ground, face first in the mud. Rain is pouring down on you, soaking your shorts and shirt. “Good job!”

The dog sits down on your back, making you groan loudly. “Get off me you beast.”

“Hold them down,” the man approaches you and the dog. He crouches down next to you to rip your baseball cap off your head. “What are you doing on my property?"

“I wanted to go for a swim, dude! I camp not far away from the lake. I didn’t know this was private property! Who buys a fucking forest!! That’s just wrong.”

“Dude?” He laughs. “Bear, we caught an angry wood nymph, not an intruder.” The man clicks his tongue, and the beast finally gets off your back. “There are warning signs, lady.”

“I told you,” You struggle to get on your knees, groaning as your back hurts from the dog’s attack, “I didn’t see a sign. I camp wherever I want to.”

“Not on my property,” he snaps at you as he gets back up. “Come on, the thunderstorm will only get worse.” He holds out his hand as you struggle to get back on your feet. The dog got you good. “I’ll show you the way back to the road.”

“Fucker,” you slap his hand away and get back up on your feet without his help. “You can’t let your dog attack people.”

“You are an intruder, and he tried to defend my property.”

“Dude, do I look like a danger to you, your dog, or your property?” You size the man up. He quirks a brow. “That’s what I thought.” While you try to rub the dirt from your knees and shin, the man huffs.

“You walk around my property with your little backpack and believe you get away with it? Lady, this is not a park. You can’t just come here and waltz around my property like you own it.”

“I got it, okay. This is your forest, and you hate people,” you wrinkle your nose as the rain runs down your face. “If you’d excuse me now. I’ll find my way out of your forest and into the next to put up my tent somewhere else.”

“In the middle of a thunderstorm?” He asks. “You’re not only a criminal but crazy too. You’ll get yourself killed.”

“Well, good thing that I’m not your problem, Mr. Property,” you turn around to walk opposite the way you came from. “Have a nice life.”

“Lady, that’s crazy,” despite his former behavior, he follows you. “The rain is going to get worse. You’re going to catch a cold or worse.”

“Anything is better than being around you,” you side-eye the man. If he gets too close, you’ll get your pepper spray out and show him what happens when he messes with you.

“Wait…wait up,” he grabs your arm to stop you from running off.

“Don’t touch me,” you try to wiggle out of his grasp. “I’m warning you! I got the black belt!”

He releases you but blocks your path. “I won’t hurt you, lady. My name is Ari, this is Bear.” Ari points at his dog. “He didn’t want to hurt you. If Bear wanted to hurt you, you’d be dog food.”

“You have a way with words, huh?” You look him up and down. “So…where is this street?”

“We can’t walk through the forest now,” he sighs and points toward something in the distance. “If you don’t want to walk through a forest in the middle of one of the worst thunderstorms this area ever experienced, you should come with me to my cabin.”

“Right,” you curl your upper lip. “I’ll go with you to your cabin so you can make a filet out of my ass. I won’t go anywhere with you.”

Ari snorts. He starts laughing as you watch him. “I don’t want to eat you, lady,” he grins. “I mean, I love to eat a lady out.” His eyes drop to your soaked shorts, “but only if she begs me.”

You look down at your soaked clothes. Your backpack gets heavier per minute and Ari is right, the rain is mercilessly pouring down on you. “I’ll take a picture and send it to my friend with our position and your name.”

“Be my guest,” Ari poses for you. He grins into the camera when you snap a few pictures to send them to your friend. “What about Bear?”

“Fine,” you snap a few pictures of the dog to send them to your friend too. “If you kill me now, you’ll get hunted down by my friends.”

“I won’t take the risk,” Ari winks at you. “Come on. I want to get out of my wet clothes and have some coffee.”

You begrudgingly follow Ari, hoping he’s not a psycho killer or looking for a basement wife…

“See, I’m not a killer,” Ari hands you another cup of tea. “After the storm calmed, I’ll drive you to town. You shouldn’t camp in the only other forest around here.”

“Why?” you take a sip before looking at him. You cannot deny that he’s not as bad as you believed he was. Ari offered sweatpants and one of his plaids to you. He shared his dinner with you and brewed tea for you.

“Let’s say the men around here a rather…hmm…how do I put it…”

“Assholes?”

“I think that sums it up,” Ari sits on the other side of the couch to give you space. After the first minutes he knew, you’re not a bad person and now he tries to make you see, that he’s not a bad guy either.

“Hmm…crap,” you sigh deeply. “I wanted to do something reckless for once and now, my friend will laugh about me.”

“You never camped before, right?” He watches you drop your gaze. “Why did you lie?”

“My friends bragged about their adventure trips, and I only ever soaked in the sun or visited museums during holidays. I bought a tent and…you know the rest.”

Ari snorts. “You’re the worst camper I ever met.”

“Fair,” you shrug and giggle as his eyes drop to your legs. He subconsciously licks his lips and shifts in his seat. “So…” you scoot a little closer to Ari, “how long are you living here…alone?”

“Hmm…?” He lifts his eyes from your legs to meet your eyes. “A few years.” Ari murmurs. “I left my old life behind to live here, on my own.”

“Must’ve been a good life,” you scoot even closer to look Ari in the eyes. “This is not a normal cabin. It’s rather…luxurious.”

Ari drops his eyes to your lips, licking his own. “I was a businessman before becoming a lumberjack.”

“Lumberjack,” you purr the word. “You mean the big guys wearing plaids and cutting wood.” This time, you lick your lips. “You must be very strong if you cut wood all day.”

“Not all day, sweetness,” Ari scoots a little closer, his thigh brushing yours. “Only if I need wood for my fireplace.”

“Hmm…” you get bold and move your hand to his bicep, squeezing hard. “Very strong.”

“Strong enough to throw you around if you come to my property and try to swim in my lake,” he moves his hand to your thigh, toying with the sweatpants you’re wearing. “I can spank you too, to make sure you’ll never break into anyone’s property again.”

Your eyelashes flutter, and your lips part. “You think I’d let you spank me for breaking into your property?”

His cheeks dimple. Ari dips his head as his hand creeps higher until he can press it flat against your mound. “I think you’d let me do anything I want to do to you.”

“Look at you,” he purrs in your ear. “Such a good girl, kneeling for me. I bet,” Ari circles you to watch you kneel in front of his couch. He pushes against your shoulders, forcing you to bend your upper half over the couch. “Hmm…what a nice ass you have.”

Ari cups the back of your neck to hold you down on the couch. He’s not too rough but makes sure you can feel his strength.

“I’d love to just fuck you, but you’d only cum all over my cock. I need you to feel the consequences of your actions in your bones.” Ari runs his free hand over your ass, humming as you start to whimper. He grips one cheek roughly, testing your reaction. “I’ll use this body to my liking, and you won’t deny me.”

You choke out a moan when the first smack hits your ass. “Yes…”

“Count, little tramp,” his features harden, and he smacks your cheek a little harder this time.

“One.”

“Again,” he slaps your other cheek, making it sting. “Again!”

“Two.”

“How many can you take?” It’s not a question. Ari told you he’ll give you ten, and you’ll take ten with pleasure if you get his glorious cock in return. You’re already soaking wet and cannot deny that the next smack pushes you closer to the edge.

“All you have to give, sir,” you whimper. “Three…”

“Good girl,” he soothingly runs his hand over your stinging cheeks. “Seven more and you’ll get something nice.”

The next smacks come faster and harder. “Four, five, six, seven,” at eight you’re out of breath and cry out in pleasured pain.

“Eight, nine,” he slaps your ass with both hands. “And lastly,” he slams his hand between your legs, hitting your clit. Your legs tremble and you soak his hand with your cum.

“Oh God…” You can’t come down from your unexpected high. Ari grabs you by the back of your neck to push you onto the couch.

You end up underneath him, whimpering as he moves one hand to your crotch to lift your butt to help him sink into you. He pokes your entrance, impatiently pushing the first inches into your weeping hole.

“Fuck, that’s a wet cunt,” he groans in your ear while conquering your cunt with one hard thrust. “Yeah, you’re a good girl.”

Pressed into the furniture by his hard body you can’t do anything but lie there and let him slowly fuck into you. Your juices soak his cock, and his balls with every deep thrust.

Ari is by all means not gentle. He fucks you for punishment, to make sure your body knows you did a bad thing. “Oh, baby. I lied,” he whispers in your ear after a particularly deep thrust. “I’m going to keep you here for my pleasure.” He thrusts three, or four more times, always avoiding hitting your G-spot.

Ari purrs your name and fills your cunt seconds later. “Aw, don’t whine, baby,” he sinks his teeth in your neck to leave another mark on your body. “This was punishment. You’ll cum when I allow you to cum.”

He groans against your neck, teeth grazing over one of the marks he left. Ari is a man possessed. After he filled you for the first time, he took his time to rub cream into your ass. He toyed with you, fingers and tongue bringing you to the edge, only to not let you cum again.

With your hands restrained to the bedpost, you can only watch him move on top of you. Your hands itch to touch him, but you haven’t earned it yet. You’ve been a bad girl, and he won’t allow you to get more than he’s willing to give.

Ari slowly thrusts into you, thick cock rubbing against your walls. “I want you to cum for me. Come on, little tramp, soak my cock. I want to fill this slutty hole up.”

“Please—” you eagerly meet his thrusts. “I need…please…Sir…A-R-I…” You shudder through your high. Your whole body sizes up and for a moment, you fear you died and ended up in heaven. This is the most intense orgasm you ever experienced, and it takes your breath away.

“Good…” Ari thrusts one last time and stills his hips. His warmth fills you again, and you wonder how many times he already fucked you before he let you come. “Good girl. So, fucking good for me.”

He collapses on top of you, exhausted and satisfied. “Fuck…” you breathe out. “Fuck…fuck…that was…”

“Damn, this cunt feels so good. I’m glad you’re a criminal wanting to break into my property. I didn’t have such a good fuck in years…”

“Well…I got two more weeks off so…” you wiggle your hips, making Ari groan. “I could just invade your property for a little longer and you can punish me again.”

Ari lifts his head to look at you underneath him. He smirks, liking your idea. While you look up at him, mirroring his smirk Ari plans to keep you forever…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[honeylations]

KIM MINJEONG X FEM!READER

Prompt: With you dating nerdy + med student, Kim Minjeong, people think you are in control. But they don’t know your girlfriend’s true self behind closed doors.

Warnings/Notes: g!p Minjeong, secretly dom Minjeong, shy in the streets sexy in the sheets, sub reader, femme reader, shy Minjeong in public

A/N: sorry I disappeared for a month or so, I was swamped with other commitments T^T

“Hey Y/n” Aeri appears in front of your table in the cafeteria, holding her own tray of lunch.

“Hey Aeri, how was class?”

She sat down in a tired manner and even added a dramatic sigh. You smiled at her.

“I don’t even want to talk about it”

“That bad huh?”

“Bad? It was so boring! I knew I should’ve bought a Red Bull beforehand. Anyways, how about your classes?”

You placed your chopsticks down and shrugged. “Could say the same but I’m getting by smoothly thanks to Minjeong. She helps me once she finishes her stuff”

“I forget you’re dating that nerd sometimes” Aeri rolled her eyes.

“Hey don’t call her that! She’s adorable”

“Hi girlies! Hope you don’t mind us joining” Jimin and Yizhou appear and took their seats.

“What are you guys talking about?” Yizhou asked, looking between you and Aeri.

“About Y/n’s nerdy loser girlfriend”

“I said don’t call her that Aeri!” You whined, whacking your chopsticks at her knuckles.

“Ow hey! It’s basically true!”

You looked at the other two girls for help but by the look of their timid faces, you could tell they were on Aeri’s side. “You don’t know her like I do”

The 3 girls turn their heads to look at where Minjeong was sitting alone. She was munching on an onigiri while flipping through her fat text book, pausing for a second just to push her thick glasses up her nose.

“I’m not against you dating her, Y/n. We’re just surprised that you two even clicked” Jimin simply said, going back to eating her own food.

“I assume you top in the relationship” Yizhou winked, making your face go red.

“Um…yeah. Totally” You smiled awkwardly because they definitely didn’t know what goes down when you and Minjeong are alone.

“A-Ah! Minjeong-ah!” You gasped out a moan when your girlfriend pulled your hair back while blowing your back out.

“Mmm so good, Princess”

It took her a couple more thrusts before she flipped you on your back, letting your head fall onto the pillow, giving you a view of your girlfriend in her white tank top, messy hair, and black framed glasses.

This was the Minjeong you didn’t want the girls to know about which is why you played along with their nerd stereotypes on your girlfriend.

Minjeong was introverted in public, even when you’re by her side holding her hand. Your friends like to believe that you’re in control of the relationship but if they were to walk into your sex moments with Minjeong, they’ll realise that everything they have claimed was actually the other way around.

During sex, Minjeong was a whole different person and you loved her just as much as when she’s shy in public. She will not stop until you’re a drooling mess.

Minjeong leaned down to softly kiss the marks she had left all over your skin before finishing with a soft peck to your lips. She held your legs up by the ankles and proceeded to push her 8.5 inch inside your abused slick covered hole. Your back arched as you fisted the sheets again.

“O-Oh fuck Minjeong baby”

“I wonder what your friends will say when they see you like this, Princess” Minjeong asked rhetorically, enjoying the way you looked at her with hooded eyes and swollen lips.

She leaned down until her lips hovered yours. “I’m in control baby. Your friends can make fun of me as much as they want but when it’s just us, you’re following my orders”

You nodded pathetically, letting her words arouse you even more. “Yes you’re in control, Minjeong-ah”

“Can’t get enough of my cock, can you?”

You shook your head in tears, feeling Minjeong thrust faster that you were slapping against her pelvis. “M-Minjeong ah!”

“Fuck I love you so much, baby. So fucking good for my cock” the taller grunted as she fucked you harder than ever.

You continued to cry her name which made Minjeong wrap your legs around her waist so she could lean down and capture your quivering lips. She was nice enough to slow her thrusts to let your cunt breathe.

“My poor baby. Crying from how good my cock is. You think you deserve to have my cum?” She asked in a baby tone.

You nodded desperately, running your hands underneath the back of her tank top so you could feel her soft skin. “Please Minjeongie. I’ve been good all day”

“You have, haven’t you? Always a good girl for daddy” she kissed your forehead before removing her glasses, and began thrusting again like a maniac.

You clawed onto her back for dear life, feeling so full and destroyed from her monstrous shaft that you could never get tired of. “Fuck yes daddy, fuck me like that!”

“Mmm Y/n-ie” she whimpered in your ear breathlessly.

“Cum in me please daddy, I want it all”

Minjeong grunted in response, biting deep into your shoulder as she rocked herself inside you and releasing an insane amount of cum. The thick liquid triggered your own orgasm, mixing your load with Minjeong’s and feeling it ooze out of you.

You were panting hard as your girlfriend continued to move but at a slower pace, helping her ride out the mind blowing orgasm.

She softly laid on top of you. “Thank you, baby” she mumbled cutely into your shoulder.

The mood change baffles you every time, mostly leaving you in a fit of giggles and hugging your girlfriend closer. “You’re welcome, Minjeongie. Feel better?”

You were talking about her pent up frustrations earlier which had led to the steamy sex. Your poor girl was forced to tutor two other students in her class when all she wanted to spend time with you.

“Yes so much better. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I? Researchers stated that harsh vaginal penetration can lead to life threatening bleeding”

It wasn’t so bad having an impressively smart girlfriend. But it’s bad when your girlfriend is also a big overthinker. “You’re saying that while still being inside me”

Minjeong looked down and realised you were right. “Oh sorry, baby”

You released a soft sigh as she pulled out her slick covered dick, lowkey admiring the mess you both had made on the sheets. Your girlfriend quickly wore her glasses just to get a better view and you rolled your eyes at her little grin. “You’re proud aren’t you?”

“Did you know sperm can be preserved for decades when the semen is frozen?”

“Ugh shut up and sleep with me. I need my cuddles”

Minjeong was quick to obey. “Did you know that during cuddles with someone you love, your body releases oxytocin that calms you and makes you more likely to deal better with stress?”

“Hey baby, did you know that if you say one more fact, the chances of me chopping your dick off are highly likely?” You fired back.

Minjeong took off her glasses and placed them on the side table before spooning you tightly. “Sorry baby. Goodnight. I love you”

“I love you too, baby”

“….did you know—“

“Minjeong!”

“Sorry!”

A/N: don’t @ me for them random faxts, I just got them from Google😭

[thatlittlered]

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

 How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comforter and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

next part

[gunnerfc]

Ours | Jenni Hermoso x Reader x Alexia Putellas (18+) [Tuesday]

Summary: Your girlfriends don’t like how comfortable guys are when it comes to flirting with you but you use it to your advantage to make them jealous

Warnings: bottom reader, top jenni and alexia, strap use (r receiving), strap sucking/throat fucking (& gagging), oral (jenni receiving), jealousy, r being called “good girl,”  “bebita,” “whore”, r calling jenni “mommy” and alexia “daddy”, alexia spits in reader’s mouth lol, hair pulling, some drinking, spanking

WC: 2.6k

AN: I didn’t specify which teammates in this fic so this could either be while out with the Spain team or it could be when Jenni played for Barça!

Night After Night masterlist

You giggled as you leaned against the bar, your breathing labored from the dancing. You were out with the team celebrating a big win and you haven’t left the dance floor since you stepped foot in the club. The loud music blared around the packed club, bodies pressed tightly against each other as they danced. It was nice to let go for an evening before jumping back into football.

You signaled for the bartender, quickly ordering your drink before turning to rest your back against the bar. Your eyes landed on the small group of your teammates still sitting down, your focus landing on your girlfriends immediately. You, Jenni, and Alexia have been together for a few years now after the three of you hooked up during a break. You loved being with both of them and couldn’t see yourself with anyone else.

You were pulled from your thoughts when your drink was placed next to you and you quickly turned to thank the bartender. You hummed when you took a sip, the alcohol burning slightly as it went down your throat. You didn’t drink often but you figured why not after the win. You sat your drink down after finishing it just as the space next to you became occupied. 

“You come here often,” a male voice shouted over the loud music catching you by surprise. He wasn’t unattractive but given that he wasn’t either of your girlfriends, he wasn’t your type.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the generic line and offered a polite smile, “Yeah,” you yelled back, trying to keep the conversation quick. But you quickly realized it wasn’t going to be when he slid closer to you, as he leaned his side against the bar. 

“Damn, I can’t believe I never saw you before. I definitely would have remembered you,” he smirked in a way he thought was attractive but actually wasn’t. You took a deep sigh but before you could respond, the stranger was speaking again.

“You here with anyone? Wanna dance,” he tried to flirt, but his inability to see you were visibly uninterested made you groan to yourself.

“Actually, I am,” you politely smiled once more, your eyes drifting back to where your girlfriends were sitting. Your eyes widened slightly when you found them both glaring at your current interaction. They never were ones to hide their jealousy. 

An idea popped into your head when you remembered how they both turned down sex to focus on the big game, leaving you high and dry to pleasure yourself. You smirked as you turned back to the man at the bar, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“But, I don’t think they’ll mind if we have one dance,” you tried to flirt back but it didn’t sound flirtatious at all, not that the stranger could tell the difference. He shared your smirk before offering you a hand, pulling you to the dance floor just as the music changed to something more sensual.

Jenni and Alexia sat with their jaws clenched and arms crossed as your back became flushed with the man’s front, swaying to the beat of the music. They knew you were doing it on purpose as they watched you throw glances their way every so often.

“Y/n looks like she’s having fun,” they heard from the table, though they were too focused on you to care who said it. Alexia’s fists clenched under the table when the man leaned his mouth to your neck, seemingly leaving kisses on your skin.

Alexia was the first to break as she stood up, cursing as she did so. Jenni was quick to follow the midfielder, her angry levels rising with each step they took toward you. Alexia reached her hand out to pull you away from the man you were dancing with, surprising both of you in the process.

“Woah, what’s your problem,” the man, whose name you still didn’t know, growled. Neither Alexia nor Jenni responded, instead sending him a harsh glare as they pulled you to the exit. 

He didn’t bother chasing after you, deciding he could find someone else to dance with. You tried your best to hide your smile as your girlfriends pushed you toward the car. Jenni was silent as she opened the back door, her focus on anything but you as Alexia put you in the backseat. Normally, two of you would sit in the back while the third drove, but tonight they left you in the backseat by yourself. 

You squeezed your legs together to offer some relief to the growing need between your thighs. The car ride was deadly silent, the car filled with tension that you knew would result in them having their way with you. You swallowed lightly when you arrived back at your shared apartment and your girlfriends pulled you from the car. 

The silence was starting to get to you as neither of them spoke the entire elevator ride up. Your breathing picked up when the doors opened to your floor and the three of you made your way down the long hallway. Jenni took her time unlocking the front door, purposely drawing things out to have you squirming.

Jenni pushed the door open before you were pushed inside, Alexia’s hand hitting your ass to move you. You bit back a moan at the feeling of her large hands on your body but quickly entered the apartment, your desire growing rapidly. You shoved your shoes off to make things easier but groaned softly when both Alexia and Jenni took their time removing their shoes and jackets. 

“Bedroom, now,” was the first thing Alexia said since you left the club, her jaw locked as she nodded her head in the direction of the bedroom. “And your clothes off by the time we get there,” Jenni finished, her voice more commanding than Alexia’s.

You quickly nodded your head and took off to the bedroom, stripping your clothes the second you were through the door. You threw them to the floor aimlessly and sat on the edge of the bed as you waited for the two of them to join you. You could feel how wet you were as your thighs flexed impatiently. Alexia joined you first, hands carrying bottles of water for you later.

Her eyes shamelessly raked over your body as she sat the bottles down on the dresser in front of the bed. You looked up at her with arousal clouding your vision as you waited for her to touch you. The midfielder raised a hand to move your hair behind your ear before moving to grip your jaw. Your chest moved a bit faster than normal at her touch, your legs tensing ever harder as you grew even wetter.

“You’ve been bad tonight, bebita,” her low voice sent shivers down your spine as she let go of your jaw with a harsh shove. 

Jenni joined you just as Alexia took a step back, her eyes doing the same as Alexia’s. They were back to giving you the silent treatment as they shed their clothes, throwing them to join yours on the floor. Your eyes flicked back and forth between them as you checked them out, licking your lips as you took in their muscles. You watched as they made a beeline to the nightstand to pull out two of the bigger straps they had. Your body jerked subconsciously at the thought of them fucking you with them.

“Hands and knees, whore,” Jenni ordered, “your head facing the end of the bed,” she pointed with a raised eyebrow. 

You listened to her words as you rushed into the position they wanted you in. Your hands rested right on the edge of the bed as you waited for them to do anything to make you cum. You tried your best to watch them harness the toy around them from the angle you were in but it was no use. Your breath hitched when you were face to face with the large strap on attached to Alexia’s hips. 

You felt the bed dip behind you as Jenni joined you, her hands running along your back before stopping on your hips. “You’re already so wet and we haven't even touched you. It’s not from him is it, bebita,” Jenni mocked from behind you when she ran the tip of the strap on through your folds. 

You moaned at the feeling before shaking your head. “Answer her properly,” Alexia fumed as she grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

You gulped softly before a small “No Mommy” fell from your lips. Jenni smirked at the lowness of your voice, knowing you were already regretting dancing with the stranger. Without warning, the forward pushed the toy attached to her hips into you until her body was flush with yours. You gasped loudly at the feeling, your hips pushing back against her as best as they could.

Jenni’s tight grip on your hips kept you from moving how you wanted and she stayed buried deep in you without moving for a moment. You whined softly when she refused to move but your whining was cut short when Alexia’s strap was pushed into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you breathed out from your nose that was practically touching Alexia’s abdomen. 

Neither of them moved to give you a moment to adjust to the sizes, they might been upset with you but they wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You moved your head back slightly to suck on the toy in your mouth to show you were good, a small gagging noise escaping you. 

They both took that as a sign to start moving. Jenni pulled out of you slightly before roughly pushing back in, her hips hitting your body with a small slap. Her grip on your hips tightened as her speed picked up, the strap on that was buried within you hitting deep. 

Alexia pulled out of your throat slightly before thrusting it back in, causing you to gag around the toy. Your eyes watered slightly at the feeling but you took it in stride as you held on tightly to the cover beneath your hands. The midfielder's tight hold on your hair kept you where she wanted as she thrust her hips forward. 

Being fucked from both ends like this had your head spinning as they both roughly thrust into you. Jenni's strap on roughly hit that familiar spot inside you, earning what sounded like a moan, though with Alexia's strap in your mouth, it sounded muffled. The sounds of your gagging mixed with the lewd sounds of Jenni fucking you echoed around the room making both of them fuck you harder. 

You could feel yourself closer to letting go as Jenni railed into you from behind and she knew it based on the way you were pushing against her. “Do you wanna cum, bebita,” Alexia sarcastically chuckled above you as her hips snapped forward. You did your best to nod, another muffled moan fell from your mouth. 

Alexia’s strap was roughly pulled from your mouth, earning a small cough as she tilted your head up. You had tears threatening to spill from your eyes and saliva coating your lips when your eyes met hers, earning a big smirk from the midfielder. “I said, do you wanna cum,” she mocked with a raised eyebrow.

“Y-yes, daddy! Wanna cum so bad, please,” you cried as Jenni’s hips snapped against yours. A loud moan fell freely from your mouth this time as your head hung and your arms wobbled. 

“You’re such whore,” Alexia laughed sarcastically as she lifted your head with the grip she had on your hair. She ran her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing the digit into your mouth for you to suck. Before you could really comply, she pulled her thumb from your mouth but forced your mouth open. 

She leaned down some before spitting in your mouth, “swallow,” she ordered and you quickly listened. She smirked to herself at how well you listened before her lips were on yours, easily winning dominance over you. You did your best to maintain the kiss but with Jenni roughly fucking you, it was hard to not moan.

“Be a good girl and cum,” Jenni demanded from behind you as her hips stuttered slightly as she watched you make out with Alexia. It didn’t take long before you pulled out of the kiss and a loud whiny moan fell from your lips as you came on her strap. Jenni’s hips didn’t stop as she fucked you through your orgasm, pulling you closer to a second before pulling out.

You whined at the loss of contact from both of them and you were pulled to sit up on your knees. Jenni turned your head to lock lips with you, her tongue entering your mouth to explore as her hands ran up the front of your body. You moaned into the kiss when her hands groped your breasts, pulling at your hardened nipples before she broke the kiss.

Jenni quickly unharnessed the toy around her waist that was now covered in your cum and threw it to the floor. She made herself comfortable against the pillows at the head of the bed as her legs spread. “Be a good little whore and make mommy cum,” she said with a shaky breath, fucking you brought her close to an orgasm. 

You listened as you turned to lay between her thighs, your hands hooking around them as you licked slowly up her dripping folds. The forward’s head fell back as she tangled her hands in your hair, her hips rolling against your face as you kept your mouth on her. You felt Alexia’s large hands grab your hips, pulling your lower half up to rest on your knees as she ran a finger through your still soaked cunt. 

You moaned into Jenni, sending vibrations coursing through her body and earning a low groan from her. You moaned again when you felt Alexia thrust her strap into you until she bottomed out. She didn’t waste any time before her hips were snapping against yours, once again hitting that familiar spot. You sucked harshly on Jenni’s sensitive clit as Alexia’s hand slapped your ass, the sound of her hand hitting your skin filling the room.

You kept your movements steady as Alexia fucked you and occasionally spanking you, the room feeling hotter than ever. Jenni’s hips rolled up and faltered as she was close to letting go, your mouth and chin soaked with her cum. You toppled over the edge when Alexia landed a particularly rough spank to your ass and you moaned loudly into Jenni’s core, bringing her over the edge with you. 

Alexia pulled her strap from you before she took it off and threw it to join Jenni’s on the floor. Jenni let go of your hair as she stared up at the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath. You were once again pulled up to rest on your weak knees as Alexia’s lips were on yours once again. The midfielder moaned at the taste of Jenni on your lips before she pulled back to reach for one of the bottles of water behind her.

“Drink up, bebita. We aren't done with you, yet,” she smirked as she handed you the bottle.

You took a few sips before handing it back to her and let your girlfriends guide you into whatever position they wanted you in. You might have regretted dancing with the guy at the club at first but as your girlfriends made you cum multiple times that night, you were glad you did it. Even if it meant you were sore and could hardly walk the next morning.

[bangaveragewhitewine]

crazy-mad for you

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, frenemies to lovers)  - Happy Hours series

Chicago, 1991. When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break.

A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

This is 18+. If you’re not 18 please hit the back button and read something else.

Word count: 16.7 K

Contents/Warnings: Frenemies to lovers. Misogynistic comments; objectification, men being men. Some violence; Eddie gets in a fight. This is an 18+ fic. Smoking, alcohol consumption & drug use. Oral (reader receiving). P in V sex. Excessive use of pet names. Eddie & Reader are mid to late twenties. Reader is written as AFAB and uses female pronouns.

Author’s Note: One minute you’re daydreaming about cherry margaritas and Eddie Munson, and the next you’re writing 36 pages of how you fall in love with him... Just girly things? This is my first attempt at writing Eddie ❤️

I do hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for beta reading / being my hype woman.

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not repost my work to other sites.

Dividers by me ✌️

The cold fizz of vodka soda lime prickles your throat with a pleasant burn. 

It’s August and it’s warm, too warm to be crammed in this little dive bar with too many bodies and not enough of them wearing antiperspirant. Way too warm to be working, slinging cheap drinks to the thirsty Friday night crowd crushed into Jackie’s. They can be stingy with their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ but the tips are good at least (thanks to the pulled-low hem of your tank top showing just enough and the hug of denim on your hips). 

Jackie’s was a popular little dive you had visited during your first week in Chicago; a drink with your new roommate and some friends ended with you charming the owner Frank and promising to return for a trial shift the following evening. That was almost a year ago and you had settled in well, stepping up to be a supervisor after six months. 

Now, bone tired and wishing just a little bit that you worked a nine to five, you long for a cool shower and something fried and crispy and maybe cheesy (not particularly in that order). You’re here until close, two a.m last call followed by another hour of cleaning. Then you’re home free. Until tomorrow night anyway.

You tip back the last of your drink and crunch the ice between your teeth. Those last few minutes of your break are dwindling and soon you will haul yourself back, to fill beers and shake-up cocktails, all tits and teeth and aching feet. The music from the bar is loud as you perch on your stool at the back door, but you hear him over it hum-singing something way more Billboard Hot 100 than his usual taste. It makes your lips curve into a smirk, your head leaning back against the cool brick wall. 

“Don't you know, hmmhnn change. Things'll go your way. Hmmm hmm Hold On for -”

“Hey, hotshot.”

The small startle that shakes Eddie’s black-clothed body makes you laugh more than it should, particularly when he attempts to brush it off and play cool. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, I should’ve known you’d be here.” His voice is a groan, head tipped back with hammed-up exasperation. 

“Careful, Ed. They’ll revoke your metalhead licence if they hear you’re singing Wilson Phillips these days.” Your voice is a conspiratorial stage whisper as you cross your legs, stacking one over the other. His usual leather jacket has been swapped out for the hot summer nights, black denim over his usual tight black t-shirt and Dickies. 

He rolls and flicks his lighter to set the cigarette between his lips aflame as he meanders toward you. You can hear the crackle of burning tobacco as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you. “Not shaking your tits for tips, sugar?”

“Aw, been thinking about me while you’re asking cute girls what their star sign is?” you snark, missing the shadow of something that passes over Eddie’s face as your eyes roll. 

You switch your focus to the night sky above as Eddie comes to loom by you. The smoke swirls around him as he offers the cigarette out to you. Before taking it, you reach back and leave your empty glass on the sill behind you and swap a chilled bottle of Budweiser for the smoking cig. 

It’s not an olive branch, just part of your usual ritual; trading acidic barbs, mean words, shared smokes and free drinks whenever you’re scheduled on the same shifts (which is most nights). 

Eddie uses his keys to uncap the bottle and takes a long pull, head tipped back to show off his pale throat. A sliver of silver glints around his neck. The beer is almost half gone when he rips a truly boyish burp. Gross. 

You take a drag, sighing the smoke into the warm air. 

“What’s the sigh about, princess? Did someone not say please when they asked for their Cosmo? Your little apron tied too tight?” Eddie plucks at the wrap of black fabric around your waist. The way it hugs the curve and flair of your hips is certainly not lost on him.

You blow your second drag of smoke directly at him for that one. “Well if you could make sure we’re not packing the place out and breaching health and safety, that would be fuckin’ fantastic.” 

“Simmer down, princess. I’ve got it handled. You just pour your little drinks and wink at the boys and we’ll get through tonight just fine, ‘kay? Leave the crowd control to me.” Eddie tilts his head, dripping condescension like the total asshole he is. He’s way closer than you even realised and you can smell the spicy Fahrenheit behind the smoke. There’s heavy silence as you both glare at each other in the back alley.

The heat and hectic night make your banter especially snarky but Eddie’s the first to break, nudging you with a little smile. You barely catch his gaze dropping to your lips as you take another drag from his cigarette.

“No one giving you any trouble tonight?” he asks. 

“No more than usual. Just absolutely slammed in there. Just got done changing kegs again - they’re drinking us dry and it’s only Friday.” You roll your neck, sighing again when it cracks. 

“Tips good?” He seems almost genuine until his mean little smirk returns,  “Your tits are probably doing the real heavy liftin’ but..” 

“Listen dickh-”

Just as you’re about to cuss him out, there’s a burst of music and crowd noise as one of the other bartenders comes to find you. Michelle looks between you and Eddie before rolling her eyes. “C’mon, you’re really pushin’ that ten-minute break tonight. Sorry to break up whatever this was,” she flaps her hand between you and Eddie (who’s grinning like a wolf as he finishes his beer), “but we have a bachelorette party in line and it’s already crazy in there.” 

“Bachelorettes?” Eddie pushes off the wall and steals the smoke back from your fingers, “Sounds like I should probably get back to work. Ladies.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you almost simmering with something like anger until Michelle scoffs and drags you back inside. 

“The sooner you two just bang and get it out of your system, the better,” Michelle tuts. 

“Ew. Pass.” You scoff and pause at the dingy mirror to fix your hair and pat the sweat away with a rip of trusty blue roll, scooping your breasts up in their cups and adjusting your top before scurrying after Michelle again. If you’re going to be busy, you may as well make it worthwhile and rake in the tips. 

The bar is louder than loud but you’re energised from your vodka soda and little sparring session with Eddie and easily fall back into step with the other bar staff, working together like a well-oiled machine - despite the annoying rusty hinge manning the door.  

Eddie rejoined the staff with his buddy Jeff in tow after they had spent some time on tour with their band. You had barely contained your eye rolls when the loud metalhead had waltzed into one of Frank’s staff meetings (conducted over pizza and pitchers of beers) unannounced and kicked his feet up on a table like he owned the place. Everyone was happy to see him (adding a round of shots to toast his glorious return) but you stayed wary of the flirty metalhead with a silver tongue and big brown Bambi eyes. Yeah, you felt warm all over when he looked you up and down and smiled like a wolf but you knew his type - total flirt, make a girl feel special and then move on to the next one. You didn’t move your entire life to a whole new state to get fucked over again, so you and Eddie settled into trading catty comments while you watch out for each other, allowing the occasional flirtation for balance. Getting under each other’s skin in whatever way seemed most annoying and fun? It worked, made the slow nights bearable, the busy ones more fun. Whatever it was. 

An hour later the small of your back is nearly soaked with perspiration. The bachelorettes are in full flight, meaning you have been pouring shots and mixing cocktails non-stop. They’re sweet at least, good with their excited ‘thank you!’s for all the fruity drinks you made them - cherry margaritas, blue lagoons and strawberry daiquiris going down an absolute treat. 

You’re shaking another batch of lemon drop shots for a girl's night group when you become hyper-aware of two yuppie finance bros with their gaze firmly fixed on your chest, trading little smirks and comments with each other behind their glasses. You’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of ick. 

It’s nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore sometimes - even when you’re up-the-walls busy and the kegs need to be changed. You refocus and fix your gaze on the glowing EXIT sign, thinking about how many more cocktails you will make before close. Your eye is caught instead by Eddie standing by the door, already looking at you while he’s supposed to be making sure none of the patrons are being too dickish. 

When your eyes meet he tilts his chin in a nod. Eddie smirks as he shimmies his chest at you, to which you mouth a very easily recognisable ‘FUCK YOU’ with a cheeky wink for good measure. 

He shakes his head and you pour the line of shots, earning yourself a nice big tip and a rake of compliments from the drunk girls who make you promise to do a shot with them later. Not a promise you can definitely keep, but their enthusiasm is a balm for your soul.

As they shuffle away to give each other pep talks in the bathroom (gosh, you love them), one of the men who had been eyeing you up steps into their place. You don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over their bodies before his snake-like stare is fixed on you. You have already made plenty on tips so you dial back the smile, giving him a barely polite brow raise in place of a ‘What’ll it be?’

“Two whiskeys, top shelf. Whatever’s expensive in this dump,” he says, speaking to your chest rather than your face. You can smell the sour of his breath across the counter. 

You square your jaw and suppress an eye roll that would surely render you sightless for the rest of your days. “If you don’t like it, the doors over there. Ice?”

He grunts affirmative and you pour the drinks from the barely touched bottle, slamming the glasses down just hard enough to startle him before you give him his total.

“There’s an extra fifty in it if you give me a smile,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar with the crisp note in hand. “You been given’ out a lot more for a lot less all night. One little smile for me?” The man nods to your cleavage, and you refuse to feel self-conscious. 

You can’t summon the effort to even fuck with him, come up with a comeback that his Neanderthal brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. You give him his total again along with your best deadpan glare. “You’re holding up the line. Pay up or am I going to need to cut you off, buddy?”

His face turns sour, acidic anger bubbling up. “You’re a hard little bitch, aren’t ya?”

You smirk at that, plucking the fifty from between his thin fingers to cash up before dropping his change back on the counter. “I am, thank you so much for noticing.” Your voice is nearly saccharine, and you play up the airhead facade for a moment before turning to the customer next to him. “Next please!”

His curses blend into the background as Michelle hip-checks you with a grin and wink, which you return while beginning to pour beers for your next order. If you let every slimeball get to you, you would have given up a long time ago. 

On such a busy night, it was easy to be distracted and forget all about him, but the sharp brown eyes standing by the door saw everything - and he wasn’t so forgiving. 

Almost another hour passes; another keg change, more cocktails to shake, another few visits from your favourite group of girls (who you take a shot of tequila with when they bat their lashes at you - you’re a sucker when it comes to girls who give you compliments and smell like vanilla).  

The crowd thins a bit and you take a turn collecting empties, happy to have an excuse to get out from behind the bar and stretch your legs again, even if it is to balance too many glasses on a too-small tray. The ever-changing obstacle course of the floor on a Friday night is one you’re well practised at, dodging stray elbows and dipping in between patrons to take their spent glasses from the sticky tables, maybe chat a little if it’s not too loud or busy. 

Paradise City is pouring through the speakers as your arms begin to protest the load they are carrying. You know your limit and pick up two more stacked pint glasses, catching Eddie’s eye as he bids goodnight to some regulars. His boot is already halfway out the door after them when you see his face change into something you can’t fully comprehend. Not because you can’t read him - you absolutely can - but your body is careening forward and down toward the floor before you can catch yourself. Your foot had caught on something that hadn’t been there before you met Eddie’s stare, sending you flying forward. 

There’s a thud, crash, smash as you hit the deck alongside every single glass you had expertly balanced. The sound feels huge, ringing in your ears and it’s like the air is sucked out of the room, your body is winded by the unexpected impact. The music cuts and everything hurts - part ego, part ‘that’ll bruise tomorrow’ pain. 

You wish for the sticky floor to just swallow you up as patrons form a little circle around you, crunching broken glass under their feet. A familiar pair of boots stops right by your head. Eddie. He crouches to kneel by you with one hand heavy on your shoulder and floods your already overwhelmed senses with his smoke and leather and spice. 

He says your name, edged with panic until you open your squeezed-shut eyes. You manage to push yourself up with a small wince, hauling yourself with his help to sit on a quickly-vacated low stool. His hands feel huge as they cup your face, you hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were (unfair) or the freckles dusted across his nose. 

“M’okay, Ed. Jus’ need a minute,” your murmur, head ducked to hide your hot cheeks and embarrassment. He stands and puts his arm around you, without thinking you rest your head against his hip but miss his slight intake of breath as your coworkers calm the crowd and start sweeping and gathering the glass, and thankfully turn the music back on. 

Eddie bends a little to speak to you, low and quiet, “Just sit there a sec, okay? ‘Chelle is going to bring you to the staff room.”  

You nod and take a few breaths before taking his hand to stand and be passed safely into Michelle’s care.

“I’ll be back to you in a sec. Don’t go gettin’ in any more trouble, ‘kay?” Eddie’s softness has an edge now, his eyes zeroing in on the man who had given you shit at the bar earlier. The one Eddie had been glaring at ever since; he had seen him stick his foot out to trip you. 

You’re just about to push through to the back hallway when you hear raised voices. Eddie’s voice is louder than the others. You turn and see him squaring up to the slimeball who asked you for a smile earlier, not looking as clever or slick now that Eddie’s up in his face.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Michelle murmurs, pausing behind you to watch. 

“I saw you fuckin’ trip her man. Get the fuck out.” Eddie is incensed. “Been givin’ her shit all night.”

Trip her? Oh. He means you.

“I wouldn’t touch’er. That bitch? Fuck off man, get out of my face.”

There’s a scuffle, another broken glass. More shouting before it really kicks off, fists swinging. Through the horrified crowd, you see knuckles connecting with Eddie’s pretty face. It hurts when you yell out his name, adding to the noise as Jeff rushes in to get the men under control. 

Eddie lands his own punch, rings slamming into the man's jaw, raising a collective ‘ooof’ from the gathered crowd. Despite the blood on his face and hands, Eddie manages to haul him out into the street with Jeff, some beefy regular marching the second man out by the scruff of his neck. 

“What the fuck…” you breathe, realising that you were holding on to Michelle’s arm way too tight. You apologise and she steers you back to the staff room in a daze of pain and confusion (more from the fight than your fall). The room is little more than a box with a wall of beat-up lockers, a sink and counter, a table with cracked Formica and creaky chairs and a squishy old two-seater. It’s cramped but it can be a haven on a busy night. 

As you ease yourself into the corner of the squishy sofa, Michelle pours you a big measure of whiskey for the shock. She kneels in front of you, looking you over for any cuts or scrapes from the glass, and checks your pupils for good measure. You’re just shaken up and feeling the impact of the fall. 

“You dizzy or anything?” she asks, squeezing your knee. “You’re gonna have a big fuckin’ bruise, babe. Remember when I spilled that pitcher, slipped and fell on my ass back before Christmas? Black and blue well into New Year.” She squeezes your knee and encourages you to take a sip of your drink. 

The whiskey burns but you barely feel it. 

“Why did Eddie hit that guy? Did.. did he trip me? The floor was clear, I just… I didn’t see... My foot caught something but..” Your voice shakes from the adrenaline, the shock of the last few minutes. 

She shrugs with a little smile. “I didn’t see either. You’ll need to ask Ed yourself.” A little frown etches between her brows. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t get pissed like that for no reason. He’s a good guy, babe. He looks out for everyone, staff and the drunks. He wouldn’t do that without a good reason. I know you get up each other’s ass but..-” 

As you take another sip, the door swings open. 

Eddie. Eddie with a bloody nose, lip swollen. Eddie with his jacket off, draped over his arm as he flexes his bloody knuckles around a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pint glass of ice in the other hand.

“Hey, you okay?”

His brown eyes are wide, but he’s trying to play cool despite the adrenaline coursing through him too. Eddie feels like his entire body is buzzing, not in a good way like when he plays a gig or when he gets you riled up at him, when you roll your eyes and give him that smirk - bad like when he used to get in fights in school, when a teacher would assume he was the troublemaker and send him to detention or the principal’s office. 

You look at Eddie and he looks right back at you. You can’t look away from each other. It’s like your fall and his punches caused something to shift; you can’t name it but it weighs on you, both of you. 

Michelle squeezes your hand. “I’ll leave you two to patch yourselves up. Be good.” A kiss is dropped to your head and she squeezes Eddie’s arm as she passes him by. 

It’s just you now. You and Eddie, both hurting. 

“Ed…”

He takes a long pull from the bottle of Jack and drops into the seat next to you. 

“Eddie, what the hell was that?” Your voice is quiet and your eyes shine when you look at him. He is a ball of frenetic energy, knee bouncing. You take in the black ink on his arms, see the veins and muscles twitch beneath. His nose and mouth are stained bloody, knuckles and rings too. 

He looks over you, sees how you’re holding yourself carefully after your fall. “He tripped you.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, not something you hear often. He’s loud and he’s brash, hear-him-before-you-see-him kinda guy. 

“Oh.”

“Oh? He’d been giving you shit all night, you could’ve called me. Or Jeff.” He sips the whiskey again and tops up your glass without another word.   

“Yeah, he was a creep. Nothing new there. If I come crying to you and Jeff every time someone gets fresh with me I’d never be behind the bar. People are assholes. I can handle myself, Ed.” 

“And how’d that go for you tonight? You could’ve been really fuckin’ hurt.” His eyes blaze, nostrils flare. 

Your jaw drops, “You’re blaming me?” 

“No. No, fuck,” he growls in frustration. “I know you can handle yourself. That’s why you’re fuckin’ great at your job. If I had just taken him out when he gave you shit at the bar then maybe -” 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie I don’t need you to save me or protect me! Shit happens! This was shit. It happened. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to... I want to..”

The air between you is charged and heavy. 

I want to. What does that mean? 

Eddie covers himself quickly. 

“It’s my job. I want to make sure you, everyone here, can do their job without some fuckin’ guy with halitosis making it worse for you, waving his cash in your face like that.” Eddie nudges you gently, “I just want to do somethin’ right. I like working with you, even when you’re a pain in my ass.” 

You scrunch your nose up, “Sap.” It’s easy to both fit back into your normal routine, ignoring the lingering something more that had just become quite clear to both of you. 

“I might like working with you too. Don’t let it get to your head, I’m not sure your ego needs to get any bigger, Munson.”

He smiles, but the throb of his nose makes him wince and swear.

Eddie has made no attempt to put that glass of ice to good use so you ease yourself up to grab two clean bar towels, tipping the ice into one before wrapping it up. You pass it back to him before filling the empty glass with water.

“Thanks, princess.” Eddie flexes his fingers as the ice soothes the burning with cool unpleasantness. 

You ease yourself back into your seat, facing Eddie now. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.” 

He pauses, looking at you from the side of his big brown eyes before turning to face you. “It’s not broken. Just a little blood. You should see the other guy..” Eddie grins when you roll your eyes. 

“My hero,” you deadpan, though you do kind of mean it. 

With the damp corner of the rag, you gently begin to wipe the blood from Eddie’s face, sitting closer than you have ever really been to him. It’s silent between you, the quietest you have ever seen him. He’s too busy watching you, your focused face and how seriously you are taking your task. 

“Very gentle,” he murmurs. 

“Mm, don’t try me, Munson.” You’re quiet again, concentrating on wiping the blood and not looking into his eyes. “Not your first bloody nose after a fight then?”

“M’nope. High school… Mosh pits. Few angry drunks. The usual.” He doesn’t mention his father’s temper, his first bloody nose from a beer-soaked backhand. The whiskey tastes sour in his mouth at the memory.

You lean back a bit, assessing your work before wetting another edge of the towel. Eddie crosses his eyes, looking down his nose. “Am I pretty again?” He gives an extra cheesy grin for emphasis, making you laugh. It makes his heart soar; that sound, how you duck your head. But he sees your pained wince, bringing him right back to earth. 

“Shit, sorry.” “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

You bring your hand back to his face and wipe the last of the blood-stained around his mouth, taking one last slow swipe over his too-plump-to-be-decent lower lip. That was more for you than for him, though the spark of fire in his eyes said otherwise; it was the same spark lit low in your belly since you had first laid eyes on him and started your incessant teasing of each other. 

“All done.” Your voice is just above a whisper, neither of you making any move backwards. 

“Thank you, nurse.” You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. “Hey, can you... wear one of those little white dresses next time?” 

He’s grinning again when you shove at his shoulder to put some space between you, the skin beneath almost burning hot under your hand even through the black cotton of his t-shirt.

“No next time. You hear me? Your groupies will come for me if that pretty face gets all bashed up.” There’s that smirk of yours that sets the embers burning low in his stomach alight. 

He rolls his eyes at you, stealing your move. “You heading home?” he asked, watching you again as you drained the last of the whiskey in your glass. 

“Mm, soon. I’ll check if I can help close and clean, then I’ll go.” You lean your head against the back of the battered sofa and close your eyes briefly. You think you might just sleep here until your stomach growls like something from the seventh circle of hell.

Eddie’s big brown eyes shine with mirth, astounded at the inhuman noise that just came from your curled-up body. 

“Shut up. I’ll make cereal or something when I get home.”

“Nuh-uh. You like fries?”

“Who doesn’t like fries?” you peek one eye open to look at him.

“Let’s get some and I’ll make sure you get home safe.” Eddie checks his knuckles and swipes some of the blood from his rings, acting far more nonchalant than he felt. 

“You don’t need to.” Fries and a shake did sound amazing. Walking home while I felt like a human embodiment bruise? Not so much. 

“I know. But I’m going anyway, and you need to eat. So let me.” 

He pokes your arm as he speaks; you think fleetingly that you might let Eddie Munson do anything if he asked you nicely, spoke to you with that hushed husky voice. You think that you definitely must have hit your head when you start thinking about his eyes…

But he can’t know that, so you settle for an eye roll. “Ugh, fine.” 

With far too much energy, Eddie pushes himself up and empties the ice into the sink along with the red-tinged water. He potters around the little staff room, chucking rags into the bag for the laundry and rinsing glasses. You watch him, curious and a little confused until you realise you are staring and don’t want to be caught. 

You sit up and unlock your tiny locker, taking off and balling up your apron to throw in your bag, spraying deodorant under your arms before shutting and locking it again. Eddie’s got his jacket back on and you carry your own too-big denim jacket over your arm. You give him a nod, ready to go, and head out to the bar to check with Michelle that it’s okay for you to call it a night 

The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers who were almost ready to call it a night. Jeff has the door under control and the bar staff are already cleaning tables and glasses. You promise Michelle you will call her tomorrow, that you will stay in bed if you hurt too much, and accept her gentle hug after she passes you your tips for the night. 

“Get home safe. No more getting into trouble,” she says, eyeing you and Eddie together with interest (and some smugness). 

“No promises. See ya tomorrow ‘Chelle,” Eddie says with a wink before you both head out toward the black ‘86 Dodge Daytona parked a little down the street. It’s still humid and warm outside and you walk in silence until you see him unlock the nice car, opening the door for you. Your stomach flip-flops when he gives you a slight bow. He’s only being nice because you made an ass of yourself at work, you tell yourself. 

“Jesus, being a rockstar really pays off,” you tease and throw your bag into the passenger footwell before easing yourself in. “Or did you steal this?” 

You knew he had worked in a garage before moving to the city, and you force the thought of Eddie in a grease-marked tank top out of your head.

“Nah, my days of grand theft auto are long behind me.” Eddie winks and closes the door before rounding the shiny bonnet to sit in the driver’s seat. His keys jangle before he turns the ignition. 

The radio blares Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast so loud that you just about hear Eddie’s swearing over it until he gets the volume down. “Oops.”

“Dude, mind your fuckin’ ears. You’ll be deaf by thirty.” Your own ears are ringing after the onslaught of noise. 

“Huh?” He holds his hand up to his ear and smirks stupidly before revving the engine. 

You sink back into the low seat and shake your head; your own smile reflects at you in the window as he peels away from the curb. “You better not murder me, Munson. I’ll haunt the fuck out of you if you do.” 

“Once again babe, kidnap and human sacrifice are also long behind me.” 

He drives a little fast, but you don’t hate how you feel sitting in the passenger side of his car. He has a faded Black Ice Little Tree hanging from the rearview mirror alongside a skull keychain that cackles and glows red when you push a button on the back. The cramped back seat camouflages balled-up band shirts, a pair of beat-up Chucks, amp leads and guitar strings - a random accumulation that gives you a glimpse of who Eddie is outside of work. It’s easy for your mind to wander; Eddie, a back seat, what kind of girls he usually brings for a ride in his baby. Instead, you wonder about all you don’t know about the guy you spend a good part of your week with, the man currently driving you to get diner food at 2 a.m. after he punched a guy who was mean to you.

“Feelin’ okay?” he checks, flexing his knuckles on the steering wheel as he takes a left.

“Yeah.” You roll your head to look over at him. “Tell me something.”

Eddie glances across at you, brow raised under his bangs. “What?”

“Something, anything. A secret, a story. You always have something to say, so tell me something.” 

“Mmm. You gonna laugh at me?”

“Probably.”

“Shit okay. Um... Okay. I almost got kicked out of my high school graduation. My friends were disruptively loud, like obnoxious motherfuckers - love them to death. And I flipped the Principal off instead of shaking his sweaty little hand.”

It does make you laugh, just a little - more of a really amused smile. “That’s fuckin’ cool, Munson. Were they your little Dungeons and Dorks friends?”

“Rude.” He pauses. “Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Nerd. You’re from where, like Ballsack, Indiana?”

“Close. Hawkins - just north of Ballsack actually.”

“Can’t say I know it. Home of the Metalheads or..?”

“No. Definitely not. S’why I left.”

Your lower lip juts out just a little at the loaded confession.

“Your turn. One secret, please. Dirtier the better.”

“Perv.”

“Witch.”

You smirk, leaning your head back. “Been called worse tonight.” 

You don’t see Eddie’s knuckles twitch while you think of a secret. Hearing that guy call you a bitch reminded him of all the times he had heard his poor mother called the same by the deadbeat he called Dad. 

“Okay, you’re going to piss your pants at me. I used to work at this kinda fancy cocktail place before I moved here,” you say. “Totally lied about my experience before starting. Think… wannabe jazz lounge for yuppies. The menu was like this leather folder thing. Anyway, my first week and this like.. rich lookin’ guy comes in and asks for a Roman Coke.”

You see Eddie glance at you as he indicates and swerves the car smoothly to park opposite a little diner not far from where you live. 

“I’m a few days in, super eager to get it all right. I’m like, ‘Yes, of course, coming right up’ and can I remember what the hell is in a Roman Coke? Fuck no. It’s not on the menu so I think ‘Hey this guy must know better than dumb little me’. I’m flipping through the recipe cards, everyone else is busy and kinda mean anyway so I stare at the liquors for like two minutes before I go back and ask him ‘What’s in that again?’.” 

Eddie’s biting his lip. He knows where this is going. He sees how you light up when you tell your story, begs the butterflies to calm their swooping and swirling behind his ribs as you deliver the punchline. 

“Rum. And Coke.”

His head falls forward, rests on the top of the steering wheel. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Eddie. He was the owner.” 

He cackles. That throaty yell of a laugh you hear ringing through the bar or from the staff room when he’s goofing around instead of working. 

“Oh no..” He’s wiping tears from his eyes as you cringe in his passenger seat. “Oh princess, that’s fuckin’ terrible.” 

You sit together in his parked car until you settle, faces hurting from smiling until your stomach growls again.

“Jesus, the woman needs fries - stat.”

“And a Coke?”

“And a Coke.” 

Eddie is out of the car and opening your door before you even have your seatbelt off. He offers you his hand to help you out of the car, careful of your sore body after the fall. 

“Feeling okay?” he asks, still holding your hand. 

“A bit achy. I’ll have a hot shower and take something before bed.” You lift his hand to check his knuckles. “Sore?” 

“I’ve had worse.”

He squeezes your hand gently before you let go and cross the street to the hole-in-the-wall place glowing with neon Coca-Cola signs. 

“You get in a lot of fights then?” you ask as he holds the door. 

“Not anymore.” Eddie shrugs and leads you to a little table, nodding politely to the waitress filling coffees at the counter. She says hi to him by name and you think about Eddie coming in here alone, or not, after his shifts.

The backs of your thighs catch on the red vinyl and you know you will need to peel yourself up later.

Eddie sits opposite you, looking immediately at home as he relaxes back in the booth. In the bright diner lights you can see where his lip is still swollen and sore, the lingering specs of blood in his nostril despite your careful clean-up.

The waitress, an older woman with thinly drawn brows, comes over and pinches Eddie’s cheek with motherly affection. “Hi hon, you two know what you’re havin’?”

Eddie scrunches his nose like a bunny. “Hi, Marie. Usual for me, and a big basket of fries and a Coke?” He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod. “Please and thank you.”

She eyes you up with a little smile as she writes the order. “I was wonderin’ when Eddie was going to bring a nice girl for me to meet. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

By the time you both open your mouths to set Marie straight, she’s already gone. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, but he shrugs it off. “Hate to have to break her heart and tell her you’re not a nice girl.”

You gasp in mock offence and put your hand to your heart. “I am so nice.” You can’t even keep a straight face as you say it. “Slandering my good name, Munson. I thought you were all about protecting my honour.”

Your close-to-the-bone teasing keeps the rosy tint on his cheeks. 

“I never told you, your face when you fell? Fuckin’ hilarious. Should’ve taken a picture to put behind the bar.”

The jab puts you even again, not that either of you keeps score but it’s all about balance. Can’t be too nice, don’t want to be too mean. 

You rest your head against the back of the booth and close your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from a busy and unpredictable night wash over you. 

Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you for a moment; even under the too-bright lights of the diner, he thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Tell me something else,” you say before opening your eyes. When you do, you catch a fleeting dreamy look on Eddie’s face and lean forward to rest your chin on your hand as Marie drops over your drinks and food; fries for you, a burger with oozing American cheese and crisp bacon for Eddie. 

“So nosy,” he teases, shoving a straw into his fizzing Coca-Cola. 

You shrug, feeling a burn in your stomach; maybe you were overstepping. “You don’t have to. You can sit and stare at me if you prefer,” You take a long sip through your own gently placed straw and raise your brows at him. 

He can’t and won’t argue with that one and stirs the ice as he thinks, takes a sip. 

“One of the first gigs I played out of our hometown, we had like thirty people instead of the usual five drunks in the Hideout. I tried to crowd surf, thinkin’ I was hot shit. Broke my wrist.” 

Your eyes blow wide as you eat the best fry of your life - it’s perfectly crisp and fluffy, salted just right - but the punchline of Eddie’s latest confession had you wanting to know more.

“You want half?” Eddie asks, nodding to his burger. 

“No, I'm good, thanks. Hold on, reverse to the breaking your wrist after thinking you were Iggy fucking Pop.” 

He’s already a bite in but holds his wrist up before he flips you off. “See? Good as new,” he says, pausing his chew. 

The fries are too good to waste so you push down the urge to throw one at him. 

“I was eighteen. Stupid kid. S’the reason I didn’t graduate that year.” He sips his Coke again and watches your reaction from beneath his lashes. 

“That’s shitty.” You feel the frown deepen between your brows, angry on his behalf about something he was long over. “No wonder you flipped the principal off.” 

You share your fries with Eddie and eat until your stomach feels warm and full. You share another secret too, tell him about the time you got so scared in a haunted house that you punched some guy dressed as a zombie and got kicked out. He almost choked on a fry at that and laughed so loud that Marie looked over and shook her head fondly at her favourite customer. 

It’s easy to drop the charade that you and Eddie don’t get along. A diner at fuck o’clock in the morning exists a world away from the little bar that pays your rent and bills. When you see him get excited telling you a story, letting you see Eddie beyond the bar, you know you got him wrong - he’s funny as fuck, sweet too. 

Midway through a story about how his friend Robin had dragged him to do (very) drunk karaoke last week, Eddie catches you staring and scrunches his face a little. “Am I rambling? Fuck, sorry.”

“No. Well, a little, but I like it.” You sip the dregs of your refilled Coke and smile a little. 

He smiles back, ducking his head just a little and he catches the time on his watch. His Bambi brown eyes blow wide when he realises. “Jesus, I oughta get you home. The sun will be up soon.” 

You didn’t realise either, but you also don’t care. You’re still tired, still aching, but you feel lighter than you have in months, like a long-dead spark might just be coming back. The warm glow is dampened just a bit when Eddie gulps down the last of his drink. 

He pulls his jacket back on and insists that he helps you put yours on when you wince. He settles the bill, kisses the back of Marie’s hand and promises to come see her soon. Neither of you let her down when she says she hopes to see you again sometime. 

It’s cooler outside now, but the warmth in Eddie’s car and his gentle singing along to the radio rocks you into a light doze as he drives the few blocks to the address you gave him. It kills him to wake you once he’s parked outside. 

The small frown lines on your forehead tell him you’re still in some pain after the tumble you took. The ache in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the twisting anger in his gut when he saw that prick’s foot shove out into your path and you watched as you fell in slow motion.

He gives it a minute, tries not to stare like a creep, before reaching over to shake your knee gently. 

“Hey.” He says your name so softly, so gently, and taps his fingers against your knee. 

You startle slightly and realise where you are. “Sorry, Thanks for the ride, Eddie,” you say quietly. “And the fries. And everything.” 

He smiles again, a gentle curve upward of his lips as his fingers rest on your knee. “Any time. We’re like two or three blocks from each other.” 

Neither of you wants to burst the already waning bubble you have been in since you left the bar. For a moment, you just look at each other until the air becomes too thick, too heady to breathe easy. You’re not entirely convinced that you didn’t hit your head, that this whole night hasn’t been just some dream of yours. The heat of his hand on your leg tells you it’s real. This is something real. 

And still, you make the first move. Pop the bubble. Too much. Too scary. 

Your seatbelt clicks open and you grab your bag as Eddie does the same, coming to open your door and offering you a hand to get out. 

Neither of you let go of the other’s hand, eking out the last of whatever this was before you have to go your separate ways and think about what it could turn into if you only had the bravery. You’re both standing so close and you watch the shadow of his stupid-long lashes under the street light. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever. At work.” You want to slap yourself for stuttering. 

“Only if you feel up to it. Don’t be a hero, princess.”

“That’s your job, Ed. I’ll see you at work. Thank you, again..”

You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.

You walk to your door and Eddie rounds the car again to the driver's side. He raises a hand to salute you as you turn to give him one little wave before closing the door. 

“Fuck,” you sigh with your back pressed to the wood of the door.  “Fuck.” Eddie growls as his head drops against the roof of the car. 

You both take a minute. Need a minute before you can move on. 

You drag yourself up the stairs and let yourself in, quiet enough to not wake your flatmate. Eddie waits to see your light come on before starting the car and driving the two blocks to his place. 

After popping some painkillers you crawl into bed. Even your racing mind and pounding heart can’t keep you from falling into the deepest sleep you have had in months. Your dreams echo with Eddie’s happy throaty laugh, the gasp from the bar when he threw the first punch, the sound you made when you saw a fist crash into his pretty face.

You sleep late through the Saturday morning city sounds as they turn to afternoon and float through your cracked open window. You sleep until your flatmate knocks to check you made it home and are still breathing, then doze off again while she makes brunch for you both. 

Over eggs and bacon, toast and fresh fruit, coffee and Advil, you tell her everything from last night and show her your bruises. She runs to CVS to get arnica cream and more painkillers while you strip your bed, shower and do laundry, keep busy to keep the recurring thoughts of Eddie from your head. 

While you are folding clean clothes from earlier in the week back into your drawers, you come across a guitar pick Eddie had left on the bar one time before your shift started; once lost from his pocket, found again amongst the collection of shirts and shorts and jeans you wore to work. You had meant to give it back, then he had called you a brat for something stupid. Maybe he had burped too loud in your direction, and so you didn’t bother. As you run your thumb over the smooth curve of it, you think maybe he’s been at the back of your mind for a longer time than you even realised.

You’re sore all over but you call Michelle and let her know you will be in for your shift. You don’t tell her that you stayed out extra late with Eddie talking about stupid shit and laughing until your face hurt - you're not sure you could handle her sweet smugness over the phone. 

After a long bath to soak your muscles and a huge plate of pasta for dinner, you get ready for work. Denim shorts, a tight black t-shirt tucked in, and your trusty Dr Martens (despite the heat). You add some jewellery, spritz your perfume, and fix your hair up off the back of your neck to keep cool. You swipe some Raisin Rage on your lips before wiping it off in favour of a slick of cherry flavour Chapstick. At the last minute, the lipstick makes its way into your bag - just in case. 

It’s just after six when you step back into Jackie’s to help cut wedges of lime and lemon for drinks, make sure the barrels and kegs are hooked up properly, the mixers ready to go. It’s almost time to open up and you haven’t seen (or heard) Eddie yet. You chase your disappointment with a quick smoke break with one of the summer hires before Frank pulls you aside, making sure you’re okay after last night (and that you’re not thinking of suing the bar or anything).

“My wages wouldn’t cover a lawyer, Frank. Even with the tips,” you smirk before stepping from his office out into the hall, running straight into black denim and spicy cologne. 

“Woah, easy there.” Eddie’s hands steady you, two wide palms on your arms that squeeze gently when you look up into his smiling face. “You’re a fuckin’ liability, honey.”

Your cheeks feel hot but you shove his chest gently. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. It was so peaceful and quiet, what a shame.” 

Back to normal. Except Eddie’s hands are still on your arms, his thumb circling on the round of your shoulder. “Feelin’ okay?” he checks, speaking quietly just for you. 

You nod and lift your hand, taking his chin between your finger and thumb, feeling brave alongside the little intake of breath Eddie just about hides. “No bruises. Good.” 

There’s a beat where you and Eddie aren’t quite sure what you mean, what to say next. You’re glad that Frank calls for Eddie from his office, wanting to have the same chat with him as he had with you. It gives you both a good excuse to let go of each other, figure out what the fuck that was before your shift starts.

He squeezes your shoulders and gives you a little smile before letting you go. “Be good. Don’t get in trouble.” 

“I’ll try, hot shot,” you say quietly, giving him a wink before going to join Michelle and the other bartenders for a quick pre-open meeting - but not before you dip into your locker to pat a layer of lipstick on. 

The crowd begins to trickle in, slow and steady until it’s packed full and the music blares just loud enough. They’re a fun crowd tonight, and everyone is in good spirits now that it’s not quite so oppressively hot outside. You don’t have time to think about much else in between chatting to customers and mixing drinks; shaking cocktails is a bit more laborious when your body aches but you don’t complain. 

It’s almost eleven before you take your break. You take another Advil before slipping past the Staff Only door. The air is tinged with smoke as Eddie leans against the brick, waiting. 

His face lights up when he sees you and the two glasses you’re carrying. “Double fisting?” he asks, taking another drag. 

“One for you, one for me. Mines the water.” You extend out the dark fizzing highball glass to him, which he eyes suspiciously. He passes you the nearly burnt-out smoke as a trade-off. 

“What’s this?” he asks, “The witch's potion? I knew you’d take me out by poisoning me.”

You prop yourself on your stool and sip your ice water, smirking into your glass. “It’s a Roman Coke.” 

Eddie’s laugh rings through the alley and he holds up the glass. “You fuckin’... Wow. What an honour.” His free hand covers his heart, silver rings glinting in the light. It would be easy to think he’s being condescending or playing around, it’s what you do. But Eddie is genuinely a little bit touched and a whole lot smitten. He can feel his heart beating faster under his palm. 

You pass him a paper-wrapped straw before watching as he takes a curious sip of your special mix. You take a drag of his cigarette and watch his eyes blow wide as he computes the flavours. 

“D’you hate it?” you ask carefully.

“What is in this? It’s insane! I really like it,” Eddie says, grinning. 

His smile makes your tummy flutter. 

“It’s rum - but like, a coffee-infused rum - and Coca-Cola, with Sambuca,” you list off the ingredients that had been turning over in your head all evening. 

Eddie nods as he takes another sip, letting the flavours wash over his tongue. “Mm, I like it. You’re a real little alchemist, huh? Get it on the menu.”

You laugh and pass him back his smoke. “Nah. That’s an Eddie special. Just to say thanks..” 

Eddie looks at you, watching your teeth sink into your stained-dark lip as you wait for him to respond. He’s a shade softer than the usual tough-but-fun guy who works the door, softer than when you’re usually tearing strips off of each other for fun on your breaks. 

“Careful,” he says, voice quiet. He looks almost bashful. 

You frown a little. Your gut twists uncomfortably. Had you read it all wrong? 

“I don’t know what to do with myself when pretty girls are sweet to me,” he says, sipping his drink pointedly. 

The knot in your stomach swoops. He thinks you’re pretty. Eddie thinks you’re pretty. Eddie who flirts with dolled-up girls all night while he’s checking IDs.

You look back at him, see how the light and shadows play on the slope of his nose and those long lashes. “You have plenty of practice, Ed,” you say, so quiet. “You always know what to say.”

He smiles just a little and shakes his head. “Not with you. S’why I say stupid shit. Anyway, no one’s as pretty or sweet as you,” he says. “Even when you’re mean. Especially when you’re mean - so fuckin’ pretty then.”

Your laugh is almost involuntary, cheeks feeling warm. “That was smooth, Eddie,” you say, teasing him again; that was comfortable, less scary. 

“It was? Oh good. I’m fighting for my life here.” He laughs and leans against the wall beside you. 

He’s taller than you as you sit on your stool, tuning your body sideways to look up at him. “Putting the moves on me, Munson?” 

“Is it working?” Eddie raises his brows, pushing them up under his choppy fringe. There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, hopeful and yet apprehensive. 

“Yeah, I think it might be,” you whisper, biting your lip again. He wants to bite it for you, soothe the pinch of his sharp teeth with his silver tongue. 

You reach a hand out, sliding your fingertips up over the back of his hand and wrist until they slip under the cuff of his sleeve. You bring his hand down onto your thigh, warm and bare in the summer evening heat. 

You’re feeling brave. Eddie is too. 

He leaves his drink on the sill next to your water and steps closer, his hand huge on your legs as he feels the smoothness of your skin and the frayed hem of your denim shorts. Eddie crowds closer, smelling the sweetness of your perfume as his leg slots between your knees. His eyes flick from looking at your lips to searching your gaze for any hesitation or hint that you’re just fucking with him. He finds none and feels braver than ever. 

He dips down, brushing his nose against your cheek and hears your intake of breath, that little gasp he wants to swallow and consume. His lips press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, begging sweetly without a word. 

You turn your head just a fraction to close the minute gap, bringing your lips together. With your hand on his neck, you feel his pulse race in time with your own beneath the stroke of your thumb, sliding down the strong tendon to where it meets his shoulder. 

Eddie’s lips press and slot with yours, plush and gentle and tasting sweet like Coca-Cola. He kisses you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips on his. You pull him as close as you can, your warm breaths mingling as he sneaks a look to make sure you’re real. 

He is gentle behind the bawdy jokes and leather and silver rings. He’s softer than anyone can see. But you can feel that sweet softness in the way he cups your face before kissing you again. Eddie strokes his tongue against your lower lip to ask for permission he doesn’t need. It makes you shiver as that smooth-talking tongue slides with yours, making you gasp. 

Before it can build pressure and turn any steamier, he slows it back down and kisses you in slow pecks again before leaning his forehead against yours. He can’t stop himself from smiling and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not elated when he feels your shy smile too. 

Behind that smile, you’re aching for more. You want to run your fingers up through his curls and tug, be kissed breathless by him. You want a hundred more soft kisses, feel his smile on your mouth. You want to feel him everywhere. 

“You okay?” he whispers, and can’t resist pushing another kiss against your cheek before moving back to look at you again. 

“More than okay.” You bring your thumb to swipe the lipstick transferred over from your lips to his. You want to see every shade you own smeared around his mouth. 

Eddie kisses your thumb, before pretending to nip it to make you laugh. “Are you going to be able to go back to the bar?” 

You shake your head, smiling before sighing over-dramatically and fixing a pout on your face. It drives him mad in the best way. “Mm, maybe give me one more for luck?” you whisper. 

He puts you out of your misery with one more long lingering kiss. “I’m not done kissing you. At all.” Another peck, because he cannot simply stop himself. “I’ll wait for you after work.” 

Your smile is too big to hide, rendered speechless by his confession. So you nod, giving his lower lip one last swipe to remove the evidence before patting his cheek. 

Eddie reluctantly backs off for his own good. He had thought about pressing you against the bricks and kissing you stupid too many times to be decent. He still will - it’s at the top of his bucket list - but just not now.

He grabs his drink, downs it, and gives you a wink. “Don’t go sharing that recipe, okay? That’s for me only, sugar.” 

“Cross my heart,” you tease, sitting on your hands so you don’t drag him back against you. You think he might just be okay with it if you did. 

“Later…” As if he can read your mind, he backs away with absolute mischief in his eyes. 

“Later.” You wiggle your fingers at him and laugh when he almost walks ass-first into the stacked crates of empty bottles. He swears at them and flips them off before throwing one last wink your way. 

Once you’re sure Eddie has turned the corner of the building you cover your face with your hands and smile into them, murmuring ‘What the fuck, what the fuck’ as your cheeks heat up your palms. 

When you have just about gathered yourself, you head back inside and fix your smudged lipstick. You tap Michelle’s hip when you get back, signalling for her to go take her break. 

She looks you over, suspicious of where exactly that coy little smile came from. As she throws one last look over her shoulder, she sees Eddie at the open door, looking just as dreamy and pleased with himself.  

The rest of your shift passes without incident, which is a miracle because all you have been thinking of is Eddie Eddie Eddie. Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hands. Eddie’s strong inked arms and his sturdy thighs. His lips (again). 

You caught each other’s eye a few times during the night, and it made you feel hot all over. Especially when he was being a total gentleman to some pretty girls, telling them to get home safe. You had felt his dark–chocolate stare on you as you laughed with customers, and shook up cocktails while he watched the strength of your arms and the subtle bounce of your breasts. Knowing Eddie was watching, thinking about how he might kiss you again later, made you slick with desire and excitement. 

You ring the bell for last call at 2 a.m. as your feet burn, and arms ache. There’s a flurry of orders while Jeff and Eddie close the doors and stand inside shooting the shit together, bidding customers good night as they leave in pairs and groups. By three it’s kicking out time and the few reluctant stragglers take recommendations for pizza joints and all-night diners to soak up the alcohol. While the bouncers do one last sweep of the place, you work through your checklist with a singular motivator; kissing Eddie Munson. 

With anticipation buzzing in your chest, you wipe spills behind the bar, refrigerate the mixers and hand-wash the muddlers and stirrers from the cocktails. The younger guys fill the dishwasher with glasses and barware. You thank your stars that it’s not your night on bathroom duty, refilling the straws instead and making a note for Frank of what’s running low before he does his full inventory and stocktake. It’s a well-oiled machine and your duties are finished in record time... 

Eddie made himself useful, staying out of your way (but watching closely, in absolute awe of you) in favour of picking up a broom and keeping the music going to keep morale up. He leans on the clean bar, chin on his hand as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, tilting his head toward the back door. 

You nod, “Gimme two.” You restrain yourself from running to your locker (a quick walk is sufficient and unsuspicious). You fix your hair, blot your shiny face and spray deodorant and perfume again before opting for cherry flavour Chapstick. Extra lipstick this late? Far too eager. 

After a quick round of goodbyes, you notice Eddie and Michelle have both already gone and you rush around to meet him by the door. One taste and you are hooked, needing another kiss like your next breath. When you can’t see him, it’s like your lungs shrink. There’s no lingering scent of his cologne or swirling smoke, no glowing cherry or loud laugh in the back alley… 

Breathe. In, out. Calm the anxious flutters. Is he already at his car? 

Just as you’re about to round the building, the back door opens and an almost frantic-eyed Eddie nearly catches you with the door... “Hi,” he breathes. Relief. A sigh you both share before the smile, the relief. 

“Shit, did I get you?” He puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezes when you shake your head. His hands skate down your arms to squeeze your hands. “Sorry, got distracted inside. Can I... Can I drive you home?” 

Your nod is far too eager and you squeeze back, your rings tapping against Eddie’s. You drop each other’s hands but stay close to each other. This is new and unnamed and you don’t want the work crowd throwing questions at you before you have even figured it out yourself. 

Your hands and arms bump as you round the building together and for once neither of you know what to say. When you look up, Eddie is already sneaking a glance at you; he smiles when you catch him and you both dissolve into laughter. 

“What the fuck, you’re literally never this quiet,” you tease, elbowing him gently. “Say something.” 

Eddie takes your hand again, swinging his arm with yours. “You looked hot tonight. Like, hotter than usual.” Eddie licks his lower lip and it makes your stomach flip. 

“You think so? It must be the drink I made you. Pretty strong…” 

“Maybe. Maybe it’s ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you kiss.” He’s so smooth and it makes you feel warm all over. 

Close to his car now, you slow your stroll and lean against the passenger side. “Yeah? Maybe you should kiss me some more then, seeing as you can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna.” He grins and crowds you against the shiny black metal, bracing one hand on the roof as the other loops around your middle to press your body close. 

It’s like stars bursting behind your eyes when you feel Eddie’s lips on yours again. This kiss is eager and almost needy after hours of trying and failing to not eye-fuck each other. The hand lying low on your back slips lower and Eddie uses the leverage to step his thigh between yours with a delicious press of pressure. When you gasp he takes the opportunity to dominate the kiss a little more, licks his tongue against yours in a dirty slide.

You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, all tongue and pulling soft gasps from each other. It has been even longer since you have been heckled while you’re kissing someone; Michelle breaks that streak as she wolf-whistles at you from across the street as she walks to her own car. 

“Get a room!” You don’t see her grin and salute as you laugh into Eddie’s chest, hugging your arms around him beneath his jacket. He kisses your forehead and holds you after flipping Michelle off with a rosy-cheeked smirk.

“She made me late, by the way. Gave me the talk in the office.” 

You rest your chin on his chest, pulling your eyebrows together. “The birds and the bees? Where do babies come from?” You laugh when he pokes your ribs and holds your squirming body closer still.

“Ha ha, jokes on you. That’s next week.” 

You muffle your laugh against his black t-shirt. 

“No, just that I better treat you good and not fuck around. Don’t want work to be awkward, blah blah.” Eddie squeezes your hips. “She also said ‘It’s about damn time’.”

You nod slowly, remembering her quips over the last few months about how you two should just shut up and get over yourselves, bang it out or something. It seemed like it was obvious to everyone but you and Eddie just what was going on behind your little frenemy routine. 

“Well then…” you say quietly. 

“Well then indeed…” Eddie echoes. 

There’s a lot for you to figure out. You can’t just kiss your co-worker and expect everything to stay the same, but inside you think that maybe you don’t want that and Eddie doesn’t either. That’s something you both need to figure out, but right now you just might die if you don’t kiss him again soon. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can I come to your place?” you ask quietly. 

Eddie nods, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to? We don’t have to...”

You rock up on your toes to kiss him again. “I want to. Let’s just... See where it goes?”

A little breathless, Eddie nods and roots for his car keys to unlock the door. He pecks your lips again before you both get into the car. This time he keeps his hand on your knee while he drives through the dark streets, only moving it to change gears. You keep it there, smoothing over the rings he wears with your fingers. 

You recognise Eddie’s street - there’s the bagel place you go to, the camera store where you get film developed. You can’t believe he’s been this near all along. 

He swings the car into a little parking garage under the building and takes the spot reserved for apartment 8. You twist in your seat to face him and see he looks a little lost in thought. “I can go home if you prefer?” you say. 

“No no. Please, don’t. I’m just.. thinkin’ about how messy my room might be.” He twists one of his rings and you cover his hand again to stop the anxious little movement you recognised from your own fidgeting.

“I don’t mind. Being nocturnal can be pretty shitty for keeping your place clean,” you say. 

Eddie nods, shoulders deflating now that he’s less worried you’re going to think he’s a total animal.

You pull his hand back over to your lap, fingers intertwined. “Anyway, I’m not here to snoop at your stuff, Eddie.” You shrug a little, hiding your smile as he thumps his head against the seat. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, I know it.” 

“You should be so lucky.” 

Your lips meet again halfway across the centre console, smiling mouths and ringed fingers grasping at each other, wherever you can reach. A rogue elbow hits the horn, making both of you jump - Eddie yelps - then dissolve into a fit of giggles which Eddie gladly smothers with one more kiss. 

“Lemme get your door, princess,” he says, lips brushing your chin and cheek one more time before freeing you from his hold to hop out and round the bonnet. You could get used to this… 

There are more kisses in the small shaky elevator, crowded to the mirrored wall as Eddie’s lips get acquainted with your jaw and neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you moan his name quietly, tug him closer by his belt loops. 

You drive him crazy in the best way, he makes you feel wanted - perhaps craved is more apt - as his hands run over the flare of your hips and dip to your behind.

The elevator stops, dings, and you drag Eddie’s mouth to your own again to taste his tongue before he takes your hand and does his best not to drag you to the door marked with a brassy 8. 

“Shit,” he mutters, fighting with his keys to find the right one as you slip a hand up the side of his t-shirt, feeling the trail of hair below his navel to scratch through. 

“You’re a demon. An actual devil woman,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the door as he lets you distract him for a second. Before you can tease him anymore, Eddie turns and takes your face gently in one hand. “You actually want to come in or am I going to need to put you over my shoulder and bring you back to the car?” 

His eyes are burning with want, lips pink and puffy from your kisses. He watches your pupils blow wide and sees the gulp in your throat. 

“You gonna behave?” 

All you can do is nod, brain static with want, accept a kiss on the pout he’s placed on your lips, and try not to swoon or combust on the spot while he wins his battle with lock and key. 

Eddie flicks the light on inside and throws his keys in a saucer sitting on a little table inside the door. There’s a short hallway with a fairly full junk closet before you step into the apartment proper. You told him you weren’t here to snoop, but the urge to look around and soak in all you can about Eddie Munson is too good to pass. 

A typical boy's apartment really - an open plan kitchen/living room with a second-hand sofa and mismatched chair, a coffee table cluttered with an empty mug and a full ashtray, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a forgotten Coke can. There are some amps stacked in a corner, framed posters yet to be hung as they prop against the wall. It’s kind of exactly what you expected. 

Eddie twists a piece of hair around his finger, watching you look around. “Can I get you a water…?” he suggests, “Hungry?” 

“Mind if I use your phone? I want to leave a message on my voicemail so my flatmate doesn’t think I died or got in another bar fight.” Sense prevails over your desire to get your fingers back under his shirt, find out what other ink he has hidden beneath. 

“Sure, good idea.” Eddie points to the phone on the wall by the little breakfast bar. You notice a Garfield mug which makes you smile a little. “Back in a sec.”

While you’re leaving a message on your answer phone, Eddie stuffs dirty and clean laundry into some approximation of where they should be. He fixes the blanket and duvet on his bed - thankfully freshly changed - and strums his Sweetheart before hearing you hang up the phone. He takes a peek in the mirror after removing his jacket, shakes out his curls and gives his arms a quick flex before telling himself he’s an idiot - being friends with Steve Harrington has definitely altered his brain chemistry in some sort of way. 

Meanwhile, you have already given your own armpit a sniff and fixed your hair in the reflection of Eddie’s microwave before you hear his boots on the wood floor again. 

“Did you get prettier while I was..?” he looks between you and his left-ajar door glowing with the bedside lamp he had left on. 

You roll your eyes at him before following him to sit on the sofa, leaving your bag and jacket on the well-worn cushion of the armchair next to it. He flicks some music on low and relaxes back into the cushions, watching you decide where to put yourself. 

“Any time you want to go, just say. I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly. You can feel the warmth of his arm where it stretches across the back of the sofa.

Scooting closer, you turn your body to face him a little more. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ed. Promise.”

He nods and welcomes you back under his arm, pressing his lips to your head while one big hand squeezes the top of your arm. “You smoke?” he asks, nodding to a little box like the lockbox you have for petty cash at work. When he flicks it open, you see some pre-rolled joints, papers and a bag of green. 

“Oh shit, you’ve been holding out on me, Munson,” you tease, poking his ribs before he sits back next to you with a joint and his Bic lighter. 

Eddie flashes his brows upward as he sticks it between his lips to light up. “Something something… Not mixing business and pleasure?” he says, muffled by the joint. He takes a hit before offering it to you, fingers brushing as you raise your brows in turn. 

“Oh yeah? I think we’re doing plenty of that tonight.” You take a drag with a smiling mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken and flash mischief again. 

“Yeah, think so. Been thinking about it a lot longer than I’ll ever admit though,” he says, watching how your breath catches and you cough a little. He tuts playfully, “Am I going to need to show you how, or are you pretending so I’ll shotgun you?” 

You fan your hand in front of your face to give yourself some air before flipping him off. “Be nice, s’been a while.” You tap your fingers against his knee. “Wait, go back. How long have you been pining over me?” You’re more careful when you take your next hit, raising your brows expectantly at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes as he takes the joint back; after another hit, he taps the ash off the end. “Not your business.”

“Absolutely my business. Go on. Was it when I wore that little dress to the Christmas party? Oh no, I bet it was when I spilt that pitcher of beer on my stupid white shirt… Fuck, I forgot that.” 

Eddie remembers both vividly (especially the little dress) but no, it was way before either of those incidents. “You going to keep annoying me ‘til I tell you?” 

“Yep.” You grin and watch him take a long slow hit. His lips wrap around the end and his cheeks hollow, showing off those sharp cheekbones. “Tell me,” you sing. 

He holds the smoke in before sighing it out with his head back against the sofa to look at the ceiling. His head turns to look at you instead. “Maybe like… the first shift we worked together? Maybe the second, either way, you were shaking up spicy margaritas or somethin’, had this little smirk on your face. Then later you asked me for a cigarette and the rest is history…” 

Your cheeks heat at his confession and Eddie’s do the same. He’s embarrassed and you feel like an idiot for letting your hang-ups get in the way of really seeing Eddie and giving him a chance. 

“Jesus, Ed.” You squeeze his arm, just below the flurry of bats tattooed there. 

His arm sizzles where you touch him - well, that’s how it feels to Eddie anyway. “We got a good thing going though, I mean I really do enjoy it. Making you huff at me and roll your eyes. Fuck.” His smile is cheeky, a little dirty as he licks his lower lip. 

You laugh together and let him bring the joint to your mouth. Your eyes slip closed as you inhale before opening again to see Eddie watching you. It reignites the spark low in your gut as you begin to feel nice and fuzzy around the edges. 

Eddie takes one last hit before saving the rest, stubbing the joint in the ashtray on the arm of the sofa. His eyes don’t stray from yours as you crawl into his lap. 

You twist one of his curls around your fingers; his hair is soft and the curls springy. “Guess it was like…perverse flirting or really long foreplay?”

“Mm, hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “I’m good with both of those. That is if you let me take you out. A real date.”

You pretend to consider it, though you are already in his lap, in his home, ready to give him anything he asks for. “Yeah, I’d like that. Last night was real nice, just talking with you. Just… get me some flowers instead of punching a guy next time?” 

He copies your faux-consideration and nods, “Deal.”

Said deal is sealed with a kiss; this one is sweet and warm, soft even. You both know you are skipping ahead of your date, but as you smile against each other’s mouths, Eddie thinks he might just keep you in his lap forever if you let him. 

Your lips press and slide, tongues tangle and tease as the intensity simmers to a boil again. His hands roam up your thighs and around to grasp two handfuls of you, pulling you close as you press yourself against him. You can feel the hot breaths through his nose against your cheek, and Eddie wants to groan at the feeling of your breasts pushed up against him. Your bravery builds in tandem with how much you want and need him and you start up a slow roll of your hips. 

Eddie swears against your mouth, “Shit, you feel good.” He squeezes his hands and pushes his own hips up, letting you feel how thick and hard he is for you. 

Your whimper makes him crazy-mad with lust, Eddie’s lips feeling the vibration as he kisses your throat and finds that spot on your neck again. He wants to mark it, hear what noise that would pull from your pretty, kiss-bitten mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter of your lashes, the way your mouth drops open. He thinks you are so pretty and it makes the ache in his chest pulse like a bruise. 

You direct him back to your lips with a gentle tug, opening your eyes before you press a kiss to his lower lip before leaning back enough to untuck and pull off your t-shirt. Eddie’s jaw twitches as he feasts his eyes on the black lace cups you fill out so perfectly, the glint of your necklace beneath the hollow of your throat. 

He moves both hands back to your waist where the denim cuts in, fingertips skating the bare skin above. “Can I?” he asks, looking up to your eyes. 

Instead of answering, you cover both hands with your much smaller ones, guiding them upward until you feel the warmth of his hands cover and cup the weight. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, looking at your face again as his thumbs seek and stroke the pebbled nipples beneath. 

Eddie had never been subtle when he checked you out at work; he made playful and bawdy comments his cover story to get away with letting his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. You let him away with it every time, knowing you would get him riled up another way later that shift or on the next one. 

When you look down, the sight and feel of his guitar-scarred hands on your chest make you bite your lip hard. Your palms skate over the gooseflesh of Eddie’s arms, over the bulk of his biceps and shoulders as he learns how to make you keen for him with just his hands on your breasts. You pull him in for another filthy kiss and blindly glide your fingers down his chest to the top of his trousers. You have already felt how hard he is under the roll and grind of your hips, but it’s not enough. Eddie deserves to be touched and tasted after all this time, pining over you. Not because you pity him, you want to make up for lost time. 

His hips press upward, seeking out your touch; you adjust yourself to straddle one of his thighs and flip the hem of his t-shirt up to get at the button and zip. Your eyes are fixed on the hard line of him pushing up against the fabric; your fingers brush over it before undoing the fastenings, making his breath catch in his throat. 

“I want you so bad,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw again. That makes you pulse right between your legs; you relish the firmness of his thigh pressing against you there as he kisses his way back to your lips. You pull away only to push the black work pants and tartan cotton boxers down enough to get at him, to see him. 

Eddie watches your eyes flash when you see the thick length of him, brushing your fingertips up and down to watch it kick with arousal. You nuzzle against his cheek as you take him in your hand, telling him how big and pretty his dick is before beginning to stroke him. In your mind, you’re thinking about how he will feel inside you and in your mouth, but you try to focus on kissing his neck and learning how he likes to be touched. He’s rock hard and weeping at the tip, it makes your mouth water.

“You think about me when you do this for yourself?” you ask, pausing to lick your hand before grasping him again. The tinge of salt on your tongue makes you want more. 

Eddie nods, eyebrows pinching together. “Fuck, I do. Tried not to, but I can’t help it.” 

That makes you feel hot all over and you rock yourself against his thigh to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “M’here now, don’t need to pretend anymore, Eddie.” Your lips brush his jaw and the way he moans, the way he pulses with arousal in your hand, it makes you giggle. 

“You’re literally gonna kill me,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I’m not. Promise. Just want you to feel good,” you say, and kiss him again when your hand picks up the pace. 

Eddie’s hips rock upward into your fist. His hand stills your arm and he has to take a few breaths before looking at you - his chocolate-button eyes are consumed by dilated pupils. “This’ll be over real fast if you keep that up, baby. You’ll never let me live that down.”

His head dips to kiss across the tops of your breasts before running his nose up along your throat. His head tilts toward his room. “Can we? Been thinking about you in my bed.” 

You nod, keep cool even though the butterflies in your stomach are back with a flurry of vengeance. Eddie grins, which sets you off too, and you tuck him back into his boxers before moving to let him stand. 

He offers you a hand and twirls you once. “Hold on. Let me just..” 

Eddie pauses, looks you up and down and you know he’s up to no good. Before you can figure him out he has you over his shoulder with a surprising show of strength. You squeal-laugh, slapping your hand on the back of his thigh. “EDDIE!” 

His laugh is throaty and rough - like an honest-to-god gremlin - and he just about manages to keep his pants up as he carries you to his room. “You seemed to like the idea of that earlier, what you complainin’ about, baby?” 

You can only laugh in response until you’re deposited onto his bed with more care and gentleness than anticipated. You lay back to catch your breath, cheeks warm and aching as you grin up at Eddie. You’re certainly not unimpressed by his ability to fireman-lift and carry you. He kneels to untie your boot-laces, then his own. You sit up and pop the button on your shorts before Eddie takes over, removing them along with your shoes to leave you in your only slightly mismatched underwear and bra - they’re both black, and Eddie doesn’t notice or care. All he sees is you, in his bed.

His t-shirt and pants are left in a heap with your clothes and in a moment he is with you, laying you back to kiss you everywhere. His hands and lips map your body, kissing freckles and stretchmarks, nuzzling the red mark your bra left around your middle when it’s removed and lost to the floor. He notes the ticklish spots on your ribs, saves them for later, and lavishes kisses on your bare breasts. 

As Eddie lays his body between your spread legs, you wish you had longer to see the new ink revealed to you but take the chance to stroke his hair like you have been wanting to. He practically purrs and chases the relaxing motion, leaning against your hand when he breaks his trail of kisses to the band of your underwear. The light is too dim to see how soaked they are, a darker shade of black between your legs caused by him, but Eddie knows it’s there and teases his fingers over the damp heat. He smiles when your hips jump up at the friction. 

His chin rests on your hip bone while he looks up. “This okay?” he checks, dipping his fingertips up past the elastic around the top of your thigh. He goes no further until you nod, breathe out ‘yes, please’.

You get the feeling that if Eddie was still wearing pants, your undies would go right in his back pocket. The thought of that alone makes you throb as Eddie looks at the feast in front of his eyes. 

“Oh she’s pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “And so wet f’me…” 

You gasp when he finally touches you, stroking his finger down the seam of you. He swears and shifts his hips against the bed when he feels your wetness and watches his finger come away shiny. 

He pushes one kiss below your belly button before getting comfy, manoeuvring one leg over his shoulder with his arm around for good measure. His curls tickle against your leg but all you can focus on is how his tongue strokes and licks, how his lips suck and press. 

His name bounces off the poster-clad walls, your voice gaspy and ragged when his tongue circles your clit before pushing its way inside you to seek out your soak. 

“So sweet, I knew you would be.” His voice is a murmur against your cunt, there and gone again as he seals his lips around your clit. 

“Fuhhh- Eddie.” 

One hand balled in the duvet, the other a crown atop his dark curls as you shift your hips and help him find the angle that is just right. He is rewarded with a scalp-burning tug and a guttural moan you can’t even begin to be embarrassed by as he feasts on you like a starved man. 

His fingers squish your doughy thigh before he slows to a pause - it’s brief and yet you whine in complaint. You feel his breathy laugh against your folds, his murmured ‘easy, baby’. Eddie stopped only to remove the rings on his right hand so that he could push one, then two, deep inside seeking out your g-spot before you can comprehend that his rings are on your fingers for safekeeping. 

His eyes are fixed on you; your heaving chest and breasts, the blissed-out expression on your face. He knows when he has found it, feeling you gush in time with a wet, wobbly moan of his name and the pained-by-pleasure look that graces your pretty face. 

“That’s it, huh? Good girl,” he murmurs. He earns another loud moan as you arch your back to chase absolute bliss. 

Eddie’s hips roll against the mattress - if you had the brain capacity to notice you would surely die on the spot. Your heart already feels like it is about to leap from your chest, blood pounding in your ears as he keeps up the pace and pressure. He can hear and feel how close you are as your voice gets higher, begging brokenly ‘yes, yes! Eddieeee!’ when you free fall over the edge. 

Your body goes tense and then boneless as he works you through it, not letting up until you nudge his head with your thigh. “Too mm-much,” you slur, hips twitching. Eddie presses gentle kisses and murmurs words of praise against your sensitive sex; he leans into how you stroke his head while you come back to the land of the living. 

“Y’okay?” he asks, smiling up at you with shiny lips. He eases his fingers out, marvels at just how soaked they are in the golden glow of the bedside light before kneeling up and licking them clean. “Knew you’d be sweet, sugar.” He winks and you curl in on yourself as you shake with laughter. 

“You’re a menace, Munson. Remind me how you've been single all this time when you can do that?”

You take his hand, pulling him down so he is lying on top of you. He’s hard against your hip, but isn’t pushy with getting you to do something about it as he lies with you, holding you as you bask in the afterglow. 

“Guess I had this really big weird crush on a pretty girl, got me in a dry spell,” he teased. He smacks a smooch to your cheek and makes a pleased little noise when you pull him in for a proper kiss, taking your cheek in his ring-less hand. 

You let yourself feel a little smug as you drag your fingertips up his back, swirling and stroking until they brush the band of his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” you whisper against his lips, hoping that the dry spell won't ruin your plans.

Eddie nods and peels himself away to kneel up and reach over to his messy bedside table, digging an almost full box from the top drawer. He squints at the date and takes one from the packet with a pleased grin, “We’re in luck.”

You reach out to palm him through the straining cotton, feeling the growing damp spot and smiling up at him as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. You sit up, pushing his boxers down with both hands. They join the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor while you get your hands back on Eddie’s body. You see more ink usually hidden beneath his clothes; you want to look at each tattoo, study it and ask him what it means, listen to him tell you more stories and secrets. But there’s plenty of time for that. 

Eddie smiles against your mouth when you wrap your fingers around him again, chancing a glance to watch your hand - your hand heavy with his rings - stroking him. His hips jerk almost of their own volition; his brain has most certainly gone static. “Jesus, fuck,” he murmurs. 

You catch on a moment later and giggle against his shoulder. “That got you going, huh? Me wearing your rings…”

“You get me going. That’s just extra hot.” His voice catches when you squeeze him again, and he calls you a devil woman one more time. You’re getting used to it, kinda like it. 

The foil packet crinkles under Eddie’s knee. You push his chest gently, sending him to sit up against the headboard so you can make his lap your throne again. Without hesitation, you tear the foil and roll the latex down over the diamond-hard length that’s weeping for you to sit on it. He steadies your hips as you hold the base of him, sinking down through the stretch and pinch eased only by how soaked you still are. 

It’s intense, the burn and the closeness. Eddie’s forehead against yours as you watch him watching you take him inside. The lingering tendrils of the weed you smoked together make it all so deliciously fuzzy and warm. Neither of you makes a move, settling into the tight heat and fullness of Eddie inside you. 

His fingers stroke your hips while yours twirl the ends of his hair, touch his silver chain and brush up his neck so that you can cup his jaw and kiss him again. You hold on to each other tighter as you begin to raise and roll your hips, savouring the stretch until your body tells you to move faster, harder. 

“Look how pretty you are,” Eddie murmurs, taking in the bounce of your breasts and the way your jaw hangs open as you move in his lap. “Yeah, that’s my girl. Are you my girl, baby?” 

You whimper, holding him tighter and closer as you nod. “I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.” Your voice wobbles but not because you’re unsure, you’re just feeling so good, so full. 

Eddie groans deep in his throat, squeezing your hips and ass tighter as he helps you to bounce. You pause, focusing on rolling rather than rising to ease the burn in your wobbly thighs; it makes you whimper against his neck. It’s so much but not enough; so good, it’s frustrating.

“Shhh, I got you. You’re just feelin’ too good, huh?” he murmurs, nodding with you when you give a small ‘uh huh’. “Yeah, good girl.”

Your brows crease as you keep rutting your hips. “You feel so big. Fuck, Ed…” 

“You gonna let me do the hard work, hmm? You just lay back and look pretty for me, princess.” His voice is like hot honey, making you drip in his lap. He feels you pulsing, making his hold on your hip tight enough to leave a bruise as he gathers his composure. He’s wanted this so bad for so long, refuses to let himself (and you) down by busting early like a teenager. 

You nod, blissed out as he runs his hands over your warm body. Eddie is careful, so gentle, as he helps you to move up and off of him. He guides you to lay back, comfy on the pillows that smell just like him. You can’t resist nuzzling into them as he makes his way back between your legs. 

“Comfy?” he asks, palming your thigh as you hook your legs over his hips. He watches your eyes, sees that you are a little more with it now, with him. He can’t wait to see you dreamy-eyed and blissed out beneath him. 

You nod and squeeze his hips. “Very comfy.” He sees how your lips pout, asking for a kiss without words.

As if he could say no, refuse you the very thing he himself is craving. 

Eddie leans forward, arms braced on either side of your head and presses his lips to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He laughs quietly when you scowl all mean before you soften at the brushed blessing of his lips against yours.

He reaches down and takes himself in hand, stroking a few times before rubbing the tip against your cunt. He imagines how this would feel without the condom, feels the hot winding pull in his abdomen at the thought before your voice brings him back. He smiles and nudges his nose against yours, mirroring the rub down below.

“Please,” you whisper, lips catching Eddie’s. “Fuck me.”

The eye contact is almost too much, a burning intensity, but you feel hypnotised to keep your eyes on him as he pushes inside. 

You squeeze your lips together, feeling that stretch again, and watch how Eddie’s brows pinch. 

“You feel unreal, baby.”

He rolls his hips and pushes the rest of the way in. Lashes flutter and your jaw drops open. He feels so deep, it’s like he’s all the way in your chest. 

After a moment he begins to thrust slowly, dragging himself halfway out before pushing all the way in again and again and again. Eddie drinks in the little whines and moans that spill from your lips. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. When his hips rock again you feel him press against that spot that makes you see stars and there is no way you can keep quiet. 

“There we go, is that it?” Eddie asks, repeating the motion. Your back arches and he hikes your leg higher, almost folding you in half as his thrusts get harder, faster.

You can feel tears pricking your eyes, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Through the sting, you see Eddie’s clenched jaw, the meaty cord in his neck straining and the rosy glow on his cheeks. 

“Eddie, m’so close,” you whimper, almost tearful as you squeeze his forearm.  

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Fuck.” He huffs through his nose when you flutter around him and he leans over you more, spreading you wider still as he begins to pound his hips into you. He is barely holding on, feeling hot all over as he fucks you, wishes it could last longer but you’re both so tightly wound.

There’s a perfect press and drag against your clit that winds that cord of pleasure inside you tighter and tighter. Your mouths press together; barely a kiss, more a shared moan. One particularly hard thrust brings you to your climax with a broken moan against Eddie’s chin. Your nails press into his rear and pull him in to rut against that spot, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life as he meets his own peak with a husky throaty groan.

You feel like you're floating, fallen over the edge in each other's arms.

The weight of Eddie on you brings you slowly back to earth, breath huffing against your neck as you stroke up his back and up into his curls. You take a deep breath in; when you exhale it's shaky and wobbly almost like a quiet sob. 

Eddie summons the strength to press up and look at you, seeing your dazed smile and warm wet cheeks. “Hey,” he wipes the tears gently, “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, panic spiking the glowy daze. 

You shake your head, almost giggling when you speak. “No, no. Fuckin’... amazing.” You pull Eddie back down and wrap yourself around him, holding each other as you come back to earth. A few more tears escape and Eddie wipes them away with such reverence. You stay quiet until you can string a sentence together. “That was incredible.” 

He smiles, cupping your face, and kisses you before carefully rolling you onto your sides to face each other to run your fingers over each other's warm bodies and share more kisses. Once he is sure you’re actually okay, he excuses himself to throw the condom away and returns with water and a damp flannel. He spends a moment cleaning you up as you gulp the water down, then finishes the rest and fills it again before closing his bedroom door. 

“You want a t-shirt?” he asks, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before throwing his hair into a low bun.

Despite the blanket, you feel a little shivery and accept the offer. 

He helps you into a well-loved Dio t-shirt before pulling the duvet over you both. Your legs are tangled together as you lie together, as close as you can. Outside, past the closed curtains, the sun is already starting to peek on the horizon.

You hum tiredly against Eddie’s shoulder when you remember the weighty silver on your hand and tap his hip gently. “Hey, Romeo. Your rings.” Your hand comes up in front of his face, wiggling your fingers. 

Eddie smiles, a lazy curl of his lips, and kisses the tips of your fingers before taking them off for you. He reaches back to drop them on his bedside table.

You want to stay awake, stay in the bubble of bliss, but the pull of exhaustion is too strong. 

“Sleepy?” Eddie brushes a kiss on your forehead and flicks the lamp off when you nod. 

“Eddie? Tonight was amazing,” you whisper against his chest.

He smiles in the dark, squeezes your hip. “Yeah, it was. I’ll make tomorrow amazing too if you’ll let me, but you gotta sleep first. Bet you’re really grumpy when you’re tired.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in the pillow. In the dark, you can just see the outlines of each other, shapes and shadows. “Lemme sleep and you can take me for breakfast. Like a date or somethin’.” 

He hides his grin poorly, you can see his teeth flash even with your eyes almost closed. “Nah, breakfast is part of the package. Lemme plan something for our date.” He gives you one last kiss, “Sleep now, sugar.” 

You feel warm, so happy and safe in his arms as you fall asleep. If Eddie asked, you would never leave his arms, leave his bed. And Eddie? Eddie lingers on the precipice of sleep, ready to drift once he knows you’re sleeping soundly. He kisses your forehead one last time before closing his eyes, both holding each other in an utterly blissful sleep. 

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

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Chapter 31 - Rookie of the Year

Last regular chapter! We have the Drive to Survive episode and then the prologue left! I'm not going to say many words because my farewell to this story will come after DTS drops which will be tomorrow night around 8:30 pm CT

The end of To Do is To Dare is scheduled for this Saturday, 11:30 am CT.

I love you all!

“Kid, are those shorts?” 

You looked up the phone in your hand up to Max, who was sitting in front of you in the limo. Your eyes flitted back down to your lap, where your dress had ridden up to reveal the basketball shorts that were supposed to be hidden. 

You shot him a sheepish grin. 

“Quite possibly.” 

Max rolled his eyes. “And why are you wearing shorts underneath a 7 thousand dollar dress?” 

“If Zendaya can do it, so can I. And besides, I’m taking them off when we get close. I just didn’t want to cross my legs in the car.” 

A snort came from Arthur, who sat to your right. To his opposite sat Charles. The four of you were all decked out in clothing that could definitely pay for a high end sports car. The Armani suits were tailored to the two Monegasques. Max’s suit and your dress were from the newest Dior line, thanks to your own ambassadorship with the luxury brand. The heels on your feet costs thousands as well. You didn’t even want to think about how much the jewelry that adorned your wrists, neck, and ears cost. 

Arthur leaned over, hand on your thigh. “Well you might want to take them off because we’re about 5 minutes away.” 

A pout grew on your lips, but you appropriately slid the basketball shorts off your smooth legs. You definitely didn’t miss the ogling eyes of your boyfriend. You gave him an innocent smile, which made him glare at you. 

“You think I’ll get rookie of the year?” 

The question made the men groan. 

You gawked at them. “What? I don’t know if they’ll do it since I was the only rookie. That’s like giving a first place trophy to the only alone person in a competition. Useless.” 

Charles gave you a smile. “What previous awards have you won or records you have broken?” 

Your eyes flickered to the ceiling in thought. 

“Ok, so I was the youngest European Karting Division Champion in 2010, the youngest Italian Karting Division Champion in 2012, youngest F4 race winner and champion in 2018, youngest F3 race winner and champion in 2019, youngest F2 race winner in 2020. That year I was also Rookie of the Year and got the Jules Bianchi award. And then I was the youngest F2 champion in 2023. This year I was the youngest pole sitter in F1, I had the most points for a rookie year with 333 points, and then the most podiums for a rookie with 15 podium finishes. I equaled Lewis’s record of four wins in a rookie season. And I think that’s it…Why are you three staring at me like that?” 

A blush formed on your face as the three men just stared. Max shook his head in disbelief. 

“You’re more decorated than I am.” 

A roll of your eyes had him arguing. With the jerk of the car, the two of you silenced. Through the heavily tinted windows, you could see the flashes of cameras. You inhaled sharply which caught Arthur’s attention. 

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time ok?” 

A nod of your head let him know that you’d be fine with that. The moment the door opened, the noise was deafening. People were screaming your name, along with Max, Charles, and Arthur. You flashed the best smile you could as you walked to the building. But a certain car caught your eyes. The familiar navy was beaconing you to go over. You let your hand slip from Arthur as you got closer to your season car. 

“Hey buddy,” you whispered as you ran your hand along the carbon fiber body. You could still hear the flashes of the cameras but it didn’t matter to you anymore. You were back with your car that carried you so well during the races.

You leaned closer as if to tell a secret. “I’m still going to buy you so you can come rest with my other cars back home. I’m going to miss you Forum.” 

The name was a simple call back to the Formula cars. But, in your mind, you couldn’t just call him Formula, because that would be weird. Max only smiled when you told him the name earlier in the season. 

Apparently, the Red Bull cars were men. 

You smiled over your shoulder at Arthur who had waited for you. Internally, you were trying to waste time so you didn’t have to sit through long boring speeches. But, the look of mild panic of being late in Arthur’s eyes got you to start moving. 

Once inside, you welcomed the air conditioning. Arthur’s fingers found the open slot of your dress on your side. The comfort of the skin to skin contact was very appreciated. 

Thankfully, they had decided to put the top three at the same table. Since you and Max were on the same team, and Charles got along with the two of you quite well, they didn’t see a problem with you all sitting together. It definitely made the night less boring. 

When Max got up to say his acceptance speech, some tears rolled down your face. It was especially when he got to talking about you. 

The Dutchman smiled down at the table, or well, at you. 

“I don’t normally do this, but I also have to thank my teammate, Y/n. 

“When I heard that she was going to replace Sergio at the beginning of 2024, I was a bit hesitant. I am used to being in a comfortable spot in life, but the world decided to throw a 20-year-old at me and said ‘here you go, have fun’.” 

The crowd chuckled at his words, but you tried to laugh through the tears. Max continued.

“The first few races were great. I had to go find her after she borrowed a car, we played football on the Miami beach, and I got to really connect with drivers that I didn’t know I could be close to.” 

You saw a bigger smile grow on Charles’s face. You personally knew that the Ferrari driver was more than thankful for Max’s close friendship. It made the season go so much better than in 2022. 

“It was in Suzuka that I noticed that my teammate had become part of my family when I was so…scared to lose her. I know I wasn’t the only one that said I wouldn’t have continued to race if she had…” 

Max didn’t finish the sentence as he wiped his eyes. Arthur’s hand gripped yours a bit tightly at the reference to your DNF at Suzuka. 

The Champion inhaled before he spoke again. 

“But what matters is that she was able to finish the season with me in third place. We were able to take home the constructor’s championship with her fastest lap. 

“Y/n has meant so much more to me than a regular teammate. And I am thankful that we get to have more years of competitiveness together. I am 100 percent confident when I say that she will be a World Champion.

“Thank you.” 

Max walked off stage as the crowds roared at the completion of his speech. You were up next, so you stood from the table and walked over to meet him. He brought you into a big hug and didn’t let go for a bit. You felt him kiss the top of your head before he let you go. 

You shakily inhaled as you stood on the edge of the stage. 

“And now, please welcome the Rookie of the Year and third place winner of the Driver’s Championship, Y/n L/n!” 

Once you heard the clapping, you made your way to the middle of the stage. The man handed you two trophies that were a lot heavier than you thought. You awkwardly grinned as you stood still for pictures. 

One the man gave you the signal to start, you bent down slightly to put the trophies down. When you rose back up, you took a deep breath. You gave the crowd a smile before you started to speak. 

“First off, I’d like to thank everyone here today. It would be weird to be speaking to an empty room, so the audience is appreciated.” 

Laughter came from the crowd, which let you know that you were doing great. 

“Next, I’d like to thank my personal team. I wouldn’t be here without my physio, even if I continued to beg her to eat ice cream all the time. To my trainer, I don’t think I’d be able to even turn my steering wheel without him. And then to Vito, my manager. When I say that he is truly the only person who has stayed by myself through the years, it’s him. He didn’t have to stay, but he did. I’d be lost without him and probably driving an uber around cities to make money.” 

Your voice gave a little crack at the end, but a chuckle covered it up. You saw Vito smile at you and hold his thumb up. 

“Then there’s my found family. I’d like to thank the Leclercs for truly putting time and effort into my career. I can’t count the amount of times on my hand that Pascale sent me some extra food whenever she visited Arthur. I know she’s not here tonight, but she deserves all of my thanks. She truly treated me like her own, even if I wasn’t. She’s been the mother that I never got to have growing up.” 

“To Charlie, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to race and compete against my childhood hero. But here we are, with you looking at my backside throughout the season.” 

You heard a “hey!” from Charles that made the crowd laugh even louder. 

“But, we both know you came out on top despite some difficulties. Thank you for being so kind to me. And thank you for signing all three pairs of my Lightning McQueen Crocs.” 

Charles blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch. 

“Last and not least of my Leclerc entourage, Arthur. I cannot begin anywhere to ever tell you how thankful I was to be your teammate in Formula 2. You saw a frightened and anxiety-ridden girl, who thought that the 2023 season would be the end of her driving career. But, you took me to dinner after our first meeting, and in the process might have taken my heart as well. I’m glad that it only took me crashing my car in Japan for you to finally confess.” 

Once again, you choked a bit. But, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room did as well. You sniffed as you wiped your eyes. 

“But I wouldn’t have it anyway.” 

At the table, there wasn’t a dry eye at all. Arthur was wiping at his eyes harshly in frustration. The tears would not stop falling. Even Max was crying and you hadn’t even said anything in his direction. The Dutchman knew that he would be a gonner the moment you said his name. 

“To the Red Bull team. Like I’ve said all night, there aren’t any words that could sum up my gratitude. I remember hearing the news that Max was signed at 17 and I only thought, gosh they had balls.” 

More laughter from the crowd. 

“Charles might be driving for Ferrari, but I have always wanted to drive for the energy drink team. Their famous saying, Red Bull gives you wings, has been entirely true for this season. You took a chance on me and gave me my wings to fly and soar. Thank you Christian for treating me like the dad I never had. I’m excited to be driving for you for many years.” 

You changed your card and looked down at the wobbly words due to tears. You looked up, and at that moment, you realized that your eye makeup must have been running. Oh well, who cares. 

“And finally, but maybe the most important person of all in this room, other than me of course.” 

Soft laughs could be heard despite the sobering moment to come. Everyone had been waiting to see what you would say about Max. 

“If there was an award for best teammate, I would give Max the trophy over and over again. I was so nervous to meet him. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, because you don’t just become a three-time world champion’s teammate without doing something right in life. But that happened to me. Almost immediately, I could tell that Max would be a good one.

“The night we met, he took me out to get ice cream and showed me pictures of his cats for hours. At Christmas, he knew that I didn’t have any family to spend it with and all but dragged me back to his home in Monaco. He made sure I knew that I was welcomed and loved. 

“Because that is what I admire about Max. Not his career, not his driving, and definitely not his cooking skills. I admire him for his ability to be kind and to love easy. I never had the best childhood, and Max knew nothing about it, but he treated me with such preciosity. He made me feel wanted for maybe the second time in my life. 

“My childhood was filled with moments of unwantedness. I was a female going against the best boys and men in the motorsport leagues. I was treated unfairly sometimes, but I was never treated like that with Max. 

“So, Maximillian, I can’t thank you enough for making a little girl’s dream come true. I might have won all of these awards tonight, but I only feel like a winner because I am walking away with a group that no family could beat. 

“So thank you from the bottom of my heart.” 

The amount of applause could not be contained in the room. Even the security guards outside the door could hear the cheers and claps coming from the different personnel in the room. It wasn’t long before everyone was standing for you as you walked down. 

However, Max seemed to stand the straightest in pride for you. If it wasn’t for the tear stains on his cheeks, you wouldn’t even know that he had been crying. There was a genuine smile on his face. His arms opened for a hug when you got to the table. You put yourself there as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head rested gently on his shoulder. You felt his lips touch your forehead.

Once the hug was over, you felt another person wrap their hands around. You knew who is was once his lips touched your own. You melted a bit before Arthur leaned back.

“I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you mon bebe.” 

A groan left his lips. 

“You know what it does when you speak my language.” 

A smirk grew on your lips. “Oh I know.” 

Arthur only rolled his eyes. 

“My rookie of the year.” 

Max’s hands landed on your shoulder and Arthur’s. To be honest, you forgot that the rest of the word even existed. Oops. 

“Not rookie anymore. Time for the sophomore year!” Max’s voice sounded above the crowd. 

You looked up at the Dutchman. 

“I’m going to win the championship this year.” 

“No you aren’t.” 

“You are both wrong. I will be the world champion.” 

“Sure Charles, sure.” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 wow, I didn't expect to be walking home with three trophies tonight 😚 all jokes aside, thank you to the FIA for naming me Rookie of the Year (even if I was the only one) and then for granting me the first ever Woman of the Year in Motorsports. I'm hoping that in the next few years, others will be able to be bestowed this award like I have been. Thank you everyone! See you in a few months for testing 💙 - rookie out

liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n.nation, and 6,204,957 others

y/n.nation if you look in the back of the fourth picture, you can see me drowning on my tears

arthur_leclerc I am totally fine being the trophy husband

y/n.89 awwww I'm glad that I can have you as the trophy husband

y/nxarthur HUSBAND?

maxverstappen1 HUSBAND??

charles_leclerc HUSBAND?????

y/n.89 I said what I said - haters gonna hate 🤭

box_box_express I cannot WAIT for preseason testing, why do I miss this already?

y/n&co I'm just waiting for the DTS episode, it's going to be so good

y/n4ever her speech tonight, I'm kind of worried for the episode...

lestappenlove oh gosh, Charles and Max looked like such proud older brothers (I don't think I've ever seen either of them cry before)

maxverstappen1 couldn't have done anything without you kid! even if you continue to call me Maximilian in front of thousands and thousands of people

y/n.89 I don't care - you'll always be my maximillian 😆

sophomore_y/n the trophies are so pretty 🥹

formula1_edits I can see all the videos and edits on tik tok forming now - maybe something Harry Styles 🤔

author everything is going to be all right - just like it always is

y/n.89 thank you for making this happen!

author anything for you kid...anything

charles_leclerc CAN I BE WORLD CHAMPION PLEASE?????

formulala_delulu WHY IS IT ENDING??? 😭

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

[queenie-ofthe-void]

“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.

Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 

Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.

Long story short, he’s not a fan.

But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 

“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”

And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.

Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 

“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.

The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 

Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.

“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–

All of my love, all of my love

all of my love to you, oh

“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”

Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 

“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.

The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again

One voice is clear above the din

“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.

"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.

“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.

All of my love, all of my love, yes

All of my love to you

Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”

He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  

“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 

“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 

All of my love, all of my love, to you now

“A love song just for you, from both of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.

[nervoussagittarius]

NSFW ALPHABET

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: nsfw, y’all control the content you consume

★ aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

matt is such a sweetheart in everyday life, him being an absolute slut during sex doesn’t change that. he’s cleaning you up and dressing you. he’s offering food and water and cuddles

★ body part (their favorite of yours and theirs)

his favorite body part of yours is your eyes. he loves they way to look at him when you’re giving him head. he loves how they roll back when he’s giving you head. and he loves how pouty they get when he doesn’t give you what you want

his favorite body part on himself is his arms. they’re doing what they need to do. and you enjoy having them wrapped around your neck

★ cum (their favorite place to cum)

kid will simply cum anywhere and everywhere. your face. you back. you legs. your stomach. but he does love being able to cum inside of you. there’s something sensual about it to him

he’s not called matt the munch for no reason. he loves when you cum in his mouth

★ dirty secret (something they’ve always wanted to do but are hiding it)

matt has always wanted to fuck you on every surface in his house so no matter what room he walks into he can be reminded of how good you made each other feel there.

★ experience (how many bodies before you, what they had done)

matt has maybe 3 bodies before you. he doesn’t like meeting new people very much so he didn’t care about going out and hooking up with girls. he was pretty inexperienced when it came to different kinks and positions but you were able to teach him

★ favorite position (pretty self explanatory)

he pretty much only knew missionary and doggy before you came around. that being said he loves when you ride him and he loves when you’re in cowgirl but he’s pounding into you. such dom energy

★ goofy (how serious they are during the act)

matthew doesn’t come to play. he’s getting into it no questions asked. he’s pretty serious about sex but is always willing to crack a joke to break up any tension

★ hair (how well maintained it is)

he has a little bit of a happy trail but all in all keeps everything pretty neat and trimmed

he could not give two fucks on how you look down there. he’s going down either way.

★ intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment)

matt’s a very romantic person having sex or not. he loves just being close to you and holding you.

★ jerk off (how often they masterbate)

he doesn’t really feel like he has a need to masterbate. he knows that all he’s has to do is ask and you’ll almost always be down for sex with him. if he’s in a different state for a few weeks or on tour without you he might do it once or twice but it’s not the same to him.

★ kinks (favorite kinks)

big on praise type of guy. he loves telling you how good you’re doing and he loves being told how good he’s doing. he likes seeing you with his hand around your neck but only if you’re down

★ location (where they’ll have sex)

like i said he doesn’t really like to leave his house so his personal spaces are the places you have sex the most. his bed. his desk. his shower. the backseat of his car… but on the occasion you guys are out with his friends or brothers he’s not opposed to bending you over a bathroom sink somewhere

★ motivation (turn ons)

LOVES neck kisses. you could be giving him the most innocent neck kiss ever and he’ll instantly be bricked

★ no (something they won’t do)

matt HATES being called daddy and he will never call you mommy. no kinks for that here. he feels like there’s such a stigma around the word that it just gives him an ick hearing them.

★ oral (preference and skill)

again he’s matt the munch he’s gonna go down on you anywhere anytime. he loves making you feel good especially with his mouth. he’s so good at it too. you just get to sit back and watch

he likes getting head but it’s not a priority for him. if you enjoy giving head then he’s down but if you don’t care then he doesn’t either

★ pace (how fast or slow they go on the regular)

it depends on his mood honestly. if he’s feeling really flirty and romantic then he’s taking his time and going slow. if he’s feeling stressed or angry he’s pounding into you so fast

★ quickie (are they down and if so how often)

he’s not really into quickies but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. if there’s time crunch and one of you is in desperate need then a quickie will have to do

★ risk (are they down to experiment)

matt’s open to doing a lot. like stated before he hadn’t experienced much before you so he’s always open to try something new

★ stamina (how long they can go for)

he’s got good stamina. he can go for at least two hours lasting multiple rounds. you’ll both be whimpering overstimulated messes by the end but neither of you care enough to stop

★ toys (do they have any)

he personally doesn’t have any toys for himself. he might have a vibrator or something for you but he lowkey feels like if he has to use a toy to get you off it means he’s doing something wrong. we don’t want to hurt his ego

★ unfair (how much they’ll tease)

this man is a HUGE tease. it’s the rings and the slutty waist and the instagram pictures. he knows how to get you worked up and he won’t stop until you’re begging him to fuck you

★ volume (are they vocal)

king of dirty talk. can flip the switch from whispering sweet nothings in your ear to moaning about how good you suck his dick in seconds. there’s constant groans and screams when y’all fuck. he’s not scared of noise complaints

★ wild card (random headcannon)

he’s not afraid of nick and chris walking in on you guys. if they can hear you two it means he’s probably doing something right and that just boosts his ego

★ x ray (details on how big they are)

he’s packing a good 7 inches and has a decent width to him. but it really is about if you know how you use it and not about the size and this man has both

★ yearning (how high their sex drive is)

he’s always down to have sex but he’s usually not gonna be begging to fuck you. he’s more just interested in making sure you feel good even if that means his dick is never touched #selfless

★ Zzzs (how fast they fall asleep after)

he will always make sure you’re asleep first. he’s not one to over exert himself so he’s not fighting to keep his eyes open. he’s taught himself how to keep his energy up during and after sex

[justmeinadaze]

What about a girl who on the surface seems to be happy. She's the one that is always there for people no matter what. Yet no one is there for her when she really needs someone. In a dark day where she thinks if she leaves the world no ones life would really change because she never really meant anything to other people. But Eddie finds her in a really bad state and somehow talks to her down and slowly overtime helps her feel wanted and loved. Shows her she's not alone.

A/N: I pushing this request and another someone gave me together because they were very similar. I get this to the core of my being and please never forget you aren't alone <3. You matter and the world is 100 time better because you're in it.

Warnings: Heavy material, mentions of emotional pain and depression especially feeling like no one cares and feeling like a burden. Enter with caution. I imagine a lot of us here have felt this at least at one point in our life.

Word Count: 2476

Everything is loud. 

Especially that voice that tells you no one cares.  Yeah you have your friends but they have their partners and their families. Yeah you have work but that’s all it is…work. The people you help are there for just that. As soon as you leave their peripherals it’s like you no longer exist. You have your family but it always feels like they are looking for number one…themselves. You’ve done everything for so many people and yet it feels like no one would do the same for you. 

It's not like you expect anyone to. You do things for people because you genuinely want to. Sometimes, however, it would just to be nice to feel like you were someone else’s first choice… 

Someone who woke up and was excited because they knew they were going to get to spend their day with you. Someone who while out in the world saw something random and their first thought was to call you to tell you. Someone who when you needed something whether it be to laugh or shoulder to cry on wouldn’t hesitate to be there. Someone who asked about your day because they were genuinely curious and not because they needed something. Someone who loved you unconditionally because you’re you.

It was a slow build up to tonight.

It starts with the little voice throughout your day telling you that no one would care. They’ll all move on after you’re gone. How long would it even take for someone to notice? No one calls unless they need something and you’re always the one to text first. You initiate meet ups with your friends and even then it’s hard to get everyone together. You fade in the background at work unless your boss needs someone to belittle. 

You haven’t seen your family face to face in so long. They always say their busy or their schedules are tight. Sometimes you call just to talk to your parents and no one answers. 

You had tried dating but most people you met up with just wanted sex. Anytime you tried finding a genuine connection, it was met with an innuendo that made your eyes roll. 

Today was particularly hard. Your account was overdrawn and you didn’t know how you were going to make it to the next check. Your boss said you seemed distracted and that you need to get your numbers to a better place or else you’d get a write up that could lead to a termination. You called your sister during your break but she didn’t answer instead posting online a selfie with her and her friends at lunch. You messaged a friend with a joke hoping to start a conversation about your worries without coming off like a bother. 

“I’m so exhausted. I wish I could meet a millionaire so I don’t have to work anymore lol”

She responded with a simple laughing emoji. 

You laid in bed scrolling through your phone at all the happy photos of people with their partners, other friends, and or children. They all seemed genuinely happy…why couldn’t you? You were really good at playing content but it took every ounce of energy you had. You didn’t want to pretend anymore. 

You wanted to place the weight of everything down for even just one day of relief while someone took you in their arms and told you that you were safe. 

The voice was practically screaming now in your head that you would never get that relief. The only way to end the pain is to remove yourself entirely from the equation. 

Your logic brain knew it didn’t want that but you didn’t know how to turn it off. 

Opening your front door, you ran outside in the rain in no particular direction hoping that you would end up wherever you were meant to be. You don’t know how long you were on your feet but suddenly you were swept off them as you fell forward into the mud beneath you. 

You heard a faint voice but it was hard to understand under the wind and thunder that shook the sky. A leather jacket covered your arms before you were lifted by your biceps and carried into a home nearby. 

“Jesus, sweetheart. Are you insane? You’re going to get yourself killed walking out there in this weather.”, the boy scolded as he shook his hair like a dog and took off the shirt he was wearing without any hesitation. “Fuck. Here let me take that here.” Grabbing his jacket, he rung it out in the kitchen and hung it on the counter. 

You watched him with wide eyes as he moved around what you realized was a trailer with purpose. 

“Alright, here’s a towel. Do you need to use my phone to call someone or—” The towel he handed you promptly feel to the floor when you didn’t reach out to take it from him, giving him pause as you both stared at it on the ground. 

His bare feet scooted against the rug as he placed himself in front of you and bent down to grab the towel again. You could feel his eyes scanning over you and when you glanced up to meet them you noticed they know reflected concern. 

“You know what? I’m being rude. I haven’t even introduced myself and I just pulled you into my humble abode.” With a big tooth filled grin, he extended his arms out wide and bowed. “My name is Eddie Munson and you are…?” He waits but when you don’t respond, he nonchalantly shakes his head as he stands to his full height again. “No worries. You can tell me when you’re ready. Um, I don’t think a towel will be enough and since it’s still storming you are more than welcome to use our shower. I have some fresh clothes you can change into and we can wash the mud off your outfit. If you want, of course. No pressure.”

“O-Ok.”

One of his eyebrows quirks at the sound of your voice before he flashes you another soft smile.

“Ok? Cool.”

***

When you step out of the shower, you can’t help but feel more relaxed under the steam that filled the bathroom. Eddie’s cigarette smelling clothes added an extra layer of comfort as they hung off your small frame. Glancing at the items on the sink, you smiled at the aftershave and hair product that lingered. Picking up his cologne, your smile grew as you inhale the smell that could best be described as home. You could get lost in that smell…

Continuing to dry your hair as you headed towards his room, you found the metalhead shoveling arms full of clothes that were on his floor into the closet. 

“Oh, uh, hey. Sorry. Yeah…my room isn’t usually this messy but…”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

His face visibly scrunched in confusion as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. 

“What makes you think you ruined my night?”

“I just…kind of…appeared.”

“Nice, pretty girl like you shows up on my doorstep. Introverts dream right there, honey.”, he chuckles as you blush. “Naw, you didn’t ruin my night. I was just going to lay here, smoke some weed and listen to some music. Would, um, would you like to join me?”

You think for a moment as your eyes take him in. Eddie had changed out of his wet clothes and put on a long sleeve shirt with some shorts that reached past his knees. His hair had begun to dry and frizz in an adorable manner that had butterflies flutter in your tummy. 

“Ok.”

“Yeah? Cool.”

“Y/N.” As he slides down to the floor, his head tilts when he hears you speak. “That’s my name.”

Grinning, he reaches under his bedside table and pulls out a little box with a couple of joints pre rolled within. 

“That’s very beautiful. So Y/N, is there a particular genre I should stay away from or are you openminded with music?”

“I’d like to think I’m pretty open minded.”

Eddie lights the end of the paper between his lips and his chest moves with every inhale and exhale before passing it to you. The effects are immediate as you feel calmness wash over you, handing it to him before laying on your back beside him. 

While you continue to listen to the music that plays neither of you says a word as you pass the joint freely between each other. The most recent song ends and a guitar rift begins to play that you feel like you’ve heard before. When you turn to look his way, your eyes lock with his earnest ones as if he’s waiting for you to recognize it. 

When the singer begins to sing the lyrics, your eyes close as you grab your stomach and laugh harder than you felt like you ever had before. Watching the way your personality unfolded has Eddie cackling with you until you were finally able to catch your breath. 

“Is that a fucking rock version of Lil Wayne’s ‘Lollipop’?! Oh my god it sounds amazing.”

“I have this weird fascination with rap songs turned into metal covers. It just tickles my funny bone the right way.”

“I love it.”

“And I love your laugh. It’s infectious.”

Glancing his way, you softly smile as you pass him the last of the bud in your hand for him to finish. 

“Thank you.”

“It’s nice to see you smile. You seemed a bit sad when you came in.”

“Yeah…we don’t have to talk about it though.”

“Do you not WANT to talk about it?”

“No, I just…you don’t wanna hear all that heavy stuff.”, you sigh as you sit up and lean against his dresser. 

“I mean I want to hear more about you, Y/N, and if that ‘heavy stuff’ is a part of you than I wanna hear it.”, he responds as he sits up as well. 

“You don’t know me, Eddie.”

“I’m trying to, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to know? Like I said you don’t know me. Why do you care?”

“I care because I want to know why a gorgeous, seemingly kind woman like you was walking out alone at night during a thunderstorm. Whatever caused her to do that must be really hurting her and I know how much that sucks. I want to help…if I can.”

Your eyes take him in as he pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them to hold them in place. It was so odd to feel safe with someone you didn’t know. You weren’t sure if it was his smooth voice, the intense yet soft hues of his own eyes, or the protective concerned energy that surrounded him but you decided to take a leap and let go.

“When I get lonely…sometimes the voices in my head…get too loud. Not like you know voices, voices but just like that little voice…that makes the world…seem hopeless.”

“Like…no one cares about you to put you first and maybe the world would somehow be better without you in it?” When your gaze shifts his way, you find his have moved to the void in the floor in front him. “Yeah, I know how that feels especially when you hear it being reiterated with that voice.”

“It’s like an extra weight is pushing down on me and I can’t breathe.”

“You just want someone to take off some of that slack and tell you everything is going to be ok. And not because they want something or because they feel like they have to but because they genuinely want to.”

As you nod, you hastily try to dry the tears that fall before he notices.

“Y/N? I promise everything is going to be ok.” When Eddie slid closer to you, you couldn’t stop yourself as you climbed into his lap and curled into his broad chest as his arms circled around you. “You’re safe and the world is 1000 times better because you’re here.”

He continued to coo softly that everything was ok, rocking you gently in his arms as you continued to cry. 

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Six Months Later

You beam as you hold Eddie’s hand at the table with your friend and her date as you wait for your food to served. 

“Hey, you know what would be fun? Maybe after we eat, we can head over to Scoops and try that new peanut flavor they have.”

“Oh, yeah!”, your friend exclaims with bright eyes. “I heard it’s so delicious.”

“I mean ice cream sounds great but Y/N can’t have that flavor. She’s allergic remember?”, your boyfriend replies nonchalantly as he quietly thanks the waiter as he places plates down in front of everybody. Without skipping a beat, Eddie opens your burger and steals your pickles he knows you give him every time before wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he eats with his free hand. 

Since that first night you met him, everything came almost easy with Eddie. For the first time, you felt heard and understood. Those first couple of months, you half expected him to disappear but every day he showed up with the same enthusiasm that made your heart want to explode. 

The first time you two fought, he realized it was because you were afraid to be open. 

“Sweetheart, how am I supposed to know it bothers you if you don’t tell me?”

“I just…I don’t want to lose you. I like you a lot, Eddie, and I’m afraid—”

“To be yourself? Baby, I like you a lot to. YOU… not some image of you. Don’t make yourself unhappy to make me happy. I don’t want that.”

From that moment on, you did everything you could to express how you felt and every time he tried to meet you in the middle. Every bad day, you were there for each other no questions asked. Every good day, you relished especially the small moments where you two would just lay on the floor and listen to music enjoying each other’s company without feeling like he’d rather be somewhere else. 

You were his first choice and he was yours. 

“How about we go to the arcade? They have that ice cream shop next door and then we can play some pool.”, you suggest knowing Eddie can smoke while you guys play as the music you both like plays. 

“That sounds like fun.”, your friend grins. “I’m not good with pool but I know Adam likes to show off.”

“So does Ed.”, you giggle. 

“Pfft, like you don’t like watching me bend over the table when I shoot my shot.”, he teases as he throws a wink your way before kissing your forehead.

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Eddie Asks/ Donate to me :)

Just in case y'all wanted to hear the song :P